Blood of Time: Book 18 of the Witch Fairy Series

by Bonnie Lamer

  Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I catch a distinct smirk on my husband’s gorgeous face. But when I turn to face him, he’s casually eating his soup with a serene expression. Uh huh. I’m not buying it. The twinkle in his eye is a dead giveaway that he knows I bit back my remarks, and he’s now trying to bite back a laugh.

  With a huff, I decide to ignore him and enjoy the delicious food in front of me. My soup filled spoon is halfway to my mouth when anguished screams shred the quiet calm in the kitchen. Startled, the spoon flies from my hand. I jump off my stool and am so focused on moving in the direction of the cry that I don’t even know which direction my spoon flew when it left my hand. Even the ‘oof’ from somewhere behind me as it hits someone doesn’t slow me down. I only care about moving in the direction of the blood-curdling scream. Because whatever is hurting its owner is a lot worse than a tossed spoon.

  The only problem is that the scream seems to come from all directions. Like it’s broadcasted through stadium speakers and surround sound. It’s as if the screamer is right next to my ears and in every room of the house. I can’t pinpoint the source. I try to focus my auditory perception in a desperate attempt to narrow it down, but it’s impossible. I tear through the house, turning this way and that as I come upon corridors and stairs in my quest to find the source.

  I’m not the only one at a loss. Loud footsteps pound off in different directions around me as each floor, every corner of the house, is searched. With each passing moment, the pain in my breaking heart grows for the one emitting such cries. Even though I can’t find the source, the voice itself is all too familiar.

  What the hell could make an Angel of Death scream as if her own soul is being torn to shreds? My brain refuses to form the answer that my heart already suspects. Because I know what would make me cry like that.

  Chapter 17

  Sharp pinches on my back don’t slow me down as I rush from room to room. The large white wings simply fold themselves away from sudden door jambs appearing in their path without me having to think about it. But after a few minutes, I realize my wings are vibrating and trying to pull me in a certain direction. Since they only appear when they have a purpose, I guess I should listen to them.

  Pulling up short in the library on the second floor, I’m almost bulldozed by Zyla who enters through a door on the other side of the room. “Did you find her?” my daughter demands breathlessly as she skids to a halt just inches from me.

  I begin to shake my head in a negative response when I spy gleaming blonde hair out of the corner of my eye. I whip around in that direction. Finally! But I don’t find who I’m looking for. Instead, I find an unfamiliar blonde-haired form doubled over at the waist in anguish, her body trembling, her beautiful wings drooping to the floor. The tips of the white feathers are curling and frizzing as they’re bathed in a flood of her salty tears. Unable to bear the weight of her harrowing mental burden any longer, she stumbles and falls to her knees. Immediately, she falls forward and her hands plant themselves on the floor, palms flat against the boards. She struggles for breath between her ear-piercing cries. I want to help her, but I don’t know how. It’s as if the screams are being wrenched from her by an external force, and it’s not satisfied stopping there. It is also ripping the air from her lungs in great handfuls. I fear it will go for her very life force next.

  I move toward her with tears in my own eyes. To see someone in such distress leaves my own body hurting and my mind drowning in anguish. I want to comfort her. I want to heal her. But I don’t know how. I open my mouth to shout over her cries, to ask who she is, when another form appears to my left. Then one to my right. In front of me, behind me. Everywhere. The library is suddenly filled with blonde Angels. And they all seem…broken. Both in spirit and in body.

  I step backwards, my hands searching behind me for my daughter. When I finally feel her arm, I grasp it tightly. Glancing over my shoulder, I find her eyes wide and her mouth frozen open mid-word. I can’t decide if I’m surprised or not that she is not able to follow me into Angel time.

  Turning my attention back to the Angels, I keep my voice steady as I shout over their cries, “Where is Adriel?”

  Not one set of blue eyes moves in my direction. I try again. “I need to help her.” When I still get no response, I add, “If I help her, it will hopefully help you.” Nothing.

  Until a blood curdling roar has me fearing that the very fabric of the universe is about to shatter with the noise. Never has a sound drilled its way so deep into my soul. The reverberations have me reaching out to find something to keep me from face planting on the hardwood floor. I’ll apologize to Zyla later if my tight grip on her frozen form leaves a mark. Just the thought of that has my Mom guilt flowing, but I suspect being face down on the floor when whatever is roaring shows up would not be a good thing. Not if I want to keep my daughter safe. Harder to protect her from down there.

  On second thought, I wouldn’t mind not being able to see at the moment. Is it too late to fall flat and bury my eyes behind my hands? I could take Zyla with me and protect her down there. Seriously, is it too late? Probably.

  So, I face what’s coming toward me. I force myself to stand as tall and confident as I can, despite being pummeled by sound waves of supernatural strength. I keep my shoulders squared and my feet firmly planted. I spread my wings and use them to steady me. They also make a great shield to hide Zyla behind. I push my fear to the back of my mind and face the danger before me with courage and as much grace as I can muster. After all, the demonic beast approaching at a slow, steady pace once told me that the granddaughter of Lailah bows to no one. Not even to her.

  Chapter 18

  Obsidian eyes take in the broken Angels of Death scattered around the room. Scaly black lips curl up around canines so long, a saber-toothed tiger would feel inadequate. Black wings beat angrily at the air molecules in the room. So hard that tiny flames burst to life and burn out quickly as the oxygen molecules fight for life before succumbing to the inevitable fiery death.

  Claws with long talons grasp someone close to the creature’s chest. Long black arms are wrapped gently around the sobbing Angel, careful not to bend a single feather on her pristine white wings with those talons. In my heart, I know the blood that soaks the Angel’s clothes was not drawn by this creature. The tenderness she shows the Angel in her arms is in stark contrast to everything else about her, but she is not the one who harmed her. Around the room, the sobs of the other Angels of Death begin to quiet until they are weeping silently. Now, if only the roaring would stop. Maybe then my ears will still have a chance to heal themselves instead of being permanently damaged.

  I do get my wish. Abruptly, the creature’s mouth closes as much as it can over her long canines. I find the sudden silence is almost as deafening as the noise was. It takes a long moment for my ears and equilibrium to adjust. If I didn’t have my wings, I’m quite sure I would stumble a bit as my eardrums stop vibrating and my sense of balance shifts.

  In front of me, those scaly arms shift the silently sobbing Angel in her arms to make her more comfortable. Then her eyes focus on me. “Since you came into existence, you seem to always be at the heart of what threatens the Universe.”

  That’s not fair. It’s not like I asked to be born with power, and I don’t go out looking for trouble. Most of the time. So, I open my mouth to argue against her admonition. When her obsidian eyes pulse with anger, I press my lips together with a mental threat to superglue them closed if they dare let a single word slip by them. Permanently closed. For once, they obey.

  Careful not to disturb any of the Angels still weeping for their sister, Rashnu winds her way across the room and lays Adriel on the settee near the window. She brushes the Angel’s blonde hair from her brow. “You are safe for now,” she says softly. “As is your babe.”

  I’m not sure if Adriel is even capable of hearing at the moment. She is so deep in her grief that I doubt anything could pull her out. But I heard what Rashnu said. “H
er babe?” I ask. Dread fills me as I mentally prepare for her response.

  Rashnu’s eyes stay on Adriel as she draws herself up to her full height again. As she is in her demonic creature form, that’s pretty darn tall. Good thing the library has lofty ceilings. “She is with child. But you already knew that.”

  “Yes,” I acknowledge, relieved that the even with so much blood there hasn’t been a miscarriage. “But then what did you mean when you said her babe is safe?”

  Rashnu swings her obsidian eyes in my direction. It’s like staring into a fathomless pool. Freaky. “They meant to strip the growing life from existence.”

  My traitorous lips let the word slip before I can stop it. “Who?” What a stupid question. I already know who.

  Fortunately, Rashnu doesn’t dwell on my stupidity. “They took her heart. They cannot have her mind and soul.”

  A slash of pain cuts through my own heart. “What have they done with Raziel?” My words are barely audible, even though the library is shrouded in silence. The Angels of Death are still weeping, but their tears are no longer accompanied by sound. Somehow, it’s even more heart wrenching this way.

  Rashnu takes a moment to transform herself before she responds. Her body loses its demonic shape, her long canines retract, and her obsidian eyes once again shine bright blue. Her golden blonde hair glints in the afternoon sun streaming through the window. Yet, she is still scary as hell. The pure, unadulterated fury that emanates from her can’t be masked by a pretty shell.

  “He is no more,” she says simply. Rashnu doesn’t believe in breaking the news gently or sugar coating it.

  My mind can’t wrap itself around the concept. “But, he’s an Archangel.” There I go being less than brilliant again. When Rashnu just quirks a brow at my stupid comment, I ask, “Is there no limit to their power?”

  Rashnu doesn’t answer me right away. Instead, she lets her eyes wander around the large library. She sets her sights on a particular shelf and makes her way to it through the sea of blonde Angels. When she is finally next to it, she fingers several different books idly, pulling one at a time forward briefly before pushing it back into place. She doesn’t even look at the titles or flip through the pages. It’s more like she wanted something to do with her hands than looking for a specific book as I first thought. With each one she pulls out and pushes back in, my patience slips a little bit more. Why won’t she answer me?

  For once, my common sense beats out my impatience. I somehow manage to hold it together and not demand she leave the books alone and answer me. Finally, the last dregs of my patience are rewarded when the Angel of Judgement begins to speak again. “What I do not understand is how an omniscient being was caught so unaware.” Her penetrating blue eyes stare at me over her shoulder. “He claimed to know what the end would bring for all of us. Himself included. He told me once what that would like for him, for even he could not bear such a burden alone.” Her eyes narrow. “This is not the tale he wove. Yet, here we are.”

  Abruptly, she spins toward Adriel and points a finger that is slightly longer than it should be. A tiny talon still clings to its end. “He lived this mortal life safe in the knowledge that he had eons ahead of him. He loved her, filled her with promises of a future that would bring them joy,” she pauses and her eyes narrow in my direction again before adding, “Despite what trouble you managed to find along the way, he even chose with her to bring a new life into this universe. Why would he do such things, this omniscient being, if this was how it would all end? Why would he live as if time would not pass?”

  Sensing that she doesn’t want me to speak, I keep my lips pressed together. I even bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep any recklessly thought words from slipping out. A tiny bit of blood trickles between my teeth, but I keep them firmly in place.

  Done fiddling with the books, Rashnu makes her way back across the library to Adriel. As she moves, she touches each Angel of Death she passes with a gentle brush of her hand. The Angels who came to share in their sister’s grief start to disappear one by one. Sent back to their posts to wait for the souls of the dead. Damn. I pity anyone who dies in the near future. The depths of empathy these Angels feel for their sister, their anger that such a cruel fate befell Adriel, makes them even scarier than they were before. I doubt any of these Angels are going to be gentle when stripping souls right now.

  When the only Angel of Death left in the room is Adriel, Rashnu speaks again. Her words are somber, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s a touch of fear in them. “None of us can live as if time stands still. No being is immune to the passing of time, regardless of desire. We will all feel its consequences eventually. I stood against those I’ve forever fought side by side with today.” Her blue eyes darken as she thinks upon her actions. I expect the obsidian orbs to reappear, but the blue holds steady. “Mortals do not understand what true loyalty is. Their lives are so short. A mere spec of time in the grand scheme of the universe. So, how can they? They will never know how even a mere thousand years can change who one is right down to their very core. They will never know what it costs to remain loyal even when centuries of infighting rock the basic structure of shared beliefs and principles.”

  A mere thousand years? Major changes can occur a lot sooner than that, so I can see her point. I think about how much my life has changed in half a decade. I’m not the person I was in those mountains in Colorado where I grew up. I’m not even the person I was when I first came to the Fae realm. So, I can’t begin to fathom what I would be like in a thousand years. I’m sure I wouldn’t recognize myself if I could somehow take a peek at a thousand years from now. And to think, that’s just a drop in the bucket of time to Rashnu. Another concept that is way, way beyond my comprehension. So, I stand here with my mouth clamped shut, literally because my teeth are still buried in my bottom lip, and listen to the Angel of Judgement as she shares her feelings on the subject. Something I suspect happens rarely.

  “Yet, when they came for her today, they were not my comrades. They were not those I’ve fought with, passed judgement with, swore to die for. They had changed somehow.” Rashnu’s brow creases, and she stares out the window as she tries to puzzle out what caused the change.

  Time would be my guess. These comrades of hers probably came from the future. Wow, Liza was right. This does sound like a bad Hollywood movie.

  Rashnu’s eyes snap in my direction once again. “Tell me, Granddaughter of Lailah, carrier of the blood of three, mortal yet not mortal, tell me what has caused this change. What has struck such fear into the hearts of my sisters and brothers, my comrades in arms? What would cause them to come for the one being who could tell me what the future holds and if this fight is worth the cost? For as powerful as you are, Xandra Illuminata, I do not believe it is you alone that has brought them to this point.”

  As much as I want to protect my family, I bite back my fear and force myself to respond honestly to her query. “It’s not me,” I agree. “It’s my children. And my nephew,” I add reluctantly. I don’t want to throw Keelan into her path without Alita and Kegan’s permission, but I know in my heart that the wrong thing to do in this moment is to hold any information back. The kids said Rashnu is on our side in the future. I suspect that this is the moment when she decides where her loyalties will lie going forward. The more information she’s given to help her reach that conclusion, the better.

  Chapter 19

  Now that I’ve finally released my teeth from the perforation slots they created in my bottom lip, all the words I’ve been holding back spill out. I tell Rashnu that Adriel isn’t the only one who is pregnant. I tell her about the kids showing up this morning. Was it really just this morning? This is by far the longest day of my life. I go on to tell her about our trip to the Cowan realm to prove that they’re really our children because even Raziel didn’t believe it. That he believed that Kallen and I would never have children. I leave out the details about Liza and the actual DNA tests only because I suspect
those are inconsequential details that Rashnu doesn’t care about. The day to day functioning of mortals holds little interest for Angels in general.

  When I finish telling her those things, I find Rashnu staring at me expectantly. She knows that I haven’t told her about the most important parts yet. Gathering my thoughts, I take a moment to put them in order. How I speak of these things must show the kids in the best possible light. It seems a bad idea to just blurt out, ‘They took away Raziel’s omniscience when it comes to them, and they can open up all the portals in the Universe at once.’ I doubt either of those things will build sympathy for our cause. She needs perspective, context, a broad view of why she should care.

  “Your hesitation is trying my patience,” Rashnu warns. “I will not suffer it any longer.”

  Okay, just blurting it out then because I don’t know how to frame it in a positive light. So, here goes. Placing a protective hand on my lower abdomen, I explain, “Even in the womb, my children are exhibiting a great deal of power. When they are born and introduced to their cousin, they’ll discover that when the three of them maintain physical contact, their power will be amplified to such magnitude that they can do just about anything they set their minds to…and a few things they don’t mean to do. Apparently when they are very young, they will take away Raziel’s ability to ‘see’ them. They felt he was tattling on them too much. But it didn’t just take away his ability to ‘see’ them going forward, he didn’t even know they were going to be born anymore.”