Growling, Orren turned and stalked out of the room while Ridhor chuckled.
“See. Too easy.”
40
MELAS
There’s something inside everyone hardwired to sense danger. That part of Melas had been exhausted and worn for so long it was balking against the reprieve. She stood on the patio of a luxurious house built into a hill.
It was boxy, clean lines and too much glass.
Everything seemed still, the buzz of cicadas in the air foreboding. The endless hum reminding her this calm was an abnormality, one that wouldn’t last.
In the back of her mind where her shadows lurked, she felt something trying to push its way forward. Wading through the thick tar, trying to escape the endless pitch of black. It nagged at her, making her mind feel heavy and unclear.
This was America. It felt realms away from the peace of Iceland where the stillness bored her. Here, that same quiet felt like a threat. A blade to her throat, pressed so firmly against her flesh a single hard swallow would sink the blade into her skin.
Dread thickened the humidity around them, causing Melas to wonder if coming here was a step in the right direction or the last step she would take before she lost her footing and began freefalling into her destruction.
Time slowed and for a moment it was just her, alone on the patio looking out towards the ocean. Her ears could hear the waves against the shore as though she were there on the beach, loud and wild. The wind picked up, lifting heavy coils of her hair into her face as the skin on the back of her neck pebbled.
Change was in the air, she could feel the way it wrapped hungry hands around her, trying to pull her into its embrace.
Something else called to her too, pulling at the centre of her chest and igniting a fire in her belly that heated every inch of her. Tears burned the back of her eyes, the sensation so familiar even though she couldn’t place it.
“Can we go swimming, mama?” Zura’s voice pulled her back, the world once again moving around her as her daughter danced across the massive patio, pointing to the pool running the full length of it.
“Swimming sounds fun.” Andrei ran up behind Zura, shoving his bare foot in the water and kicking it towards her.
She raised her hands giggling, trying to avoid the splash of water.
Melas felt so detached from the moment, goosebumps running along her flesh as she looked out at the scenery. The scent of pine surrounded her as comforting heat pressed into her back. “Where are you right now?” Ridhor’s voice was low, only loud enough to reach her ears.
“There’s something…” She let the words drift away on the warm breeze, trying to figure out how to explain the feeling inside her. The pull of something begging to be seen, dancing around in front of blind eyes. “— I’m not sure.” She admitted.
His arm wrapped around her waist, closing the small space between them as he pressed her to his chest. He didn’t say anything, just stood there supporting her.
Taking in a deep breath, she felt the way the hot air coated her lungs. It was stifling. “Is this Andrei’s place?” She asked finally.
“Why do you think this would be my place?” Andrei appeared beside them, his shirt slightly damp.
Melas turned, her eyes moving back over the house. “It’s sleek, elegant, and dripping money. I imagine a place like this would impress most people. The pool is a nice touch, easily seen from inside the house, you could keep an eye on your conquests. Set high enough for privacy but built up above the trees so people could still look up on the hill and be envious.”
He smiled. “You’re saying it’s arrogant.”
“A little bit.” She teased him, some of the sinister feelings ebbing away.
Throwing his head back, he laughed. “Do you hear that, brother? Melas thinks your choice of home is arrogant.”
Hiding the surprise from her face, her eyes landed on Orren. If it wasn’t Andrei’s house, it would have to be his. There wasn’t enough ruggedness to it for it to belong to Ridhor.
Orren frowned. “I bought it for the privacy, not for entertaining. If I’m recalling correctly, weren’t you behind most of the design?”
Thinking about it for a moment, Andrei scowled. “It’s still not mine.”
“It might as well be.” Orren’s arms were full of inflatable pool toys.
Melas listened to them bicker, her eyes on Zura as she sat around a shaded table with her Nightmares chatting.
The whisper of change was still in the air and Melas knew deep in her bones it wasn’t the change of their move threatening her. This change was malevolent and it would come sooner rather than later.
41
MELAS
When beings are created, there’s something imprinted on their soul. A whisper of what they are supposed to be. The paths taken are their own, the choices made determine that path, but from the moment they breathe their first breath, it’s there. Calling, pushing them in the direction someone, maybe Fate, she didn’t know, wanted them to go.
Towards what they were created for.
As lost as her mind was, there was something on her soul. Tattooed there, its ink seeping into the very core of her being. With time and circumstance, she adapted. Changed.
Once, she knew what she was created for. It fuelled her to move through existence with a purpose unrivalled. Now, she was fuelled by something else. Whatever she’d been at one point replaced by this warrior, unparalleled. She knew this even if she didn’t know anything else.
The hot sun kissed her flesh, warming her in a way that relaxed her against her will.
Andrei laughed, Zura bouncing on his shoulder, giggling as he hopped around the busy streets of Hollywood. This was a tourist town, the sidewalks heavy with foot traffic forced to split and move around people who paused to take photos. Everyone wanted to capture their moment here, hold onto whatever happiness this city brought them.
She understood the need to capture happiness in your hands and hold onto it for as long as you could. Even if it was just looking back at a photograph when the misery of the world came crashing down around her. It made her wonder if she should be following suit, if she should be snapping photos left and right, trying to hold onto this calm the warrior within told her couldn’t last.
The street of Hollywood Boulevard was lined with lights coming from the countless shops and attractions. Everywhere you looked there were signs and pictures. The streets themselves lined with palm trees stretching up to sit around the same level as most of the signs. If she looked over the sea of people moving about, she could see the hills silhouetted against the bright sky.
It was beautiful here. Not in the same way Iceland had been, but in a way that pulsed like the heavy bass of a song.
This city felt alive. A living, breathing thing.
The small town in Iceland was someone sitting on a bench, watching the sunset as they inhaled deep and cleansing breaths. Hollywood was someone dancing in a crowd, pausing to snap photos as the humidity slicked their skin, making their breath laboured and their heart race.
It was a different world out here.
Orren held a handful of bags in one hand. Zura wormed into his heart, digging in so deep he couldn’t do anything but fall to his knees at her every whim. Every time she paused to admire something he was bolting into the store, buying her things she would never need.
Things they couldn’t take with them when all this went to hell.
And it would. It always did.
Ridhor’s long hair was braided back in two Dutch braids against his scalp to protect it from the humidity before behind pulled into a high bun. He kept his beard trimmed, knowing how humid it would be here in comparison to Iceland. His dark green tank was open under the arms, giving anyone who wanted a look at the muscular sculpting of his sides and pecks.
He and Andrei fought over Zura in the playful way they always did. Zura eventually caved to Andrei’s puppy dog eyes and climbed onto his shoulders after Andrei complained about Ridhor al
ways hogging her affections.
All three men were dressed similarly, as though they coordinated their attire. As different as they were, she noticed they all dressed very much the same. Andrei’s tank was a deep burgundy and Orren’s was grey. They all wore identical black shorts and running shoes.
“If you keep bouncing her around like that, Andrei, you’re going to be wearing her lunch,” Orren said flatly.
Zura giggled. “I’m so full.” She agreed.
Andrei evened out his steps, heeding the warning. “Better play it safe.” He turned his head slightly to look up at Zura who met his stare and smiled.
“Smart.” She nodded wearing a goofy grin Melas rarely saw but was seeing more and more lately.
Ridhor chuckled under his breath. “It would be fun to see, though. You shouldn’t have warned him, Zura.”
She laughed. “But then my tummy would hurt.”
His eyes bore into hers losing a bit of their humour. He had a tight bond with Zura. Watching them often made Melas think about who her father could be. If he would ever look at her with the same love and adoration Ridhor always had in his eyes. It was a look all three men shared. It often made her wish she wasn’t the person she was, whoever that may be. That they weren’t always running and these three men could be a constant in her daughter’s life.
Zura deserved to be looked at like that.
“Better to make sure you’re stomach isn’t upset.” Ridhor smiled.
The guys were going out of their way to make sure the pair of them felt part of their group. No decisions were made without the two of them in mind. She wondered if it had something to do with their belief Melas was, in some way, mated to them.
Being mated to someone was not set in stone. She had to accept them and there was some kind of ceremony or ritual that would solidify it. Once it was there, that bond would be unbreakable. Andrei explained it to her, so had Cricket.
Even if she would admit to herself she was growing dangerously close to the three of them, she could never mate with any of them. There was too much in her life she didn’t know or understand. She would be condemning them to whatever hell she knew always awaited her. She would be permanently tying them to someone who constantly danced with Reapers. It was only a matter of time before the song ended and she was walked off the dance floor.
Exhaling, she blew a curl from her face that escaped her Dutch braids. Ones Ridhor had done for both of them so they wouldn’t be fighting unmanageable manes all day.
She needed to get this memory thing under control. Then, she would understand why she was always filled with this sense of impending doom. It was all in her head, wrapped up in a fog she couldn’t seem to push through.
The hairs on her arm stood on end and her brow furrowed.
The sounds of the city surrounded her. Laughter and constant chatting. The mechanical clicks of cameras, the mix of footsteps on the paved sidewalk, the wind gently blowing through the leaves of the palms that did nothing to cool them in the dead of the afternoon.
Ignoring the playful banter going on in the group, she looked up. Her black eyes meeting the glistening green of Zura’s.
Their eyes locked, Zura’s eyes heating to amber as a knowing look passing between them.
Time stopped.
Her heart lurched in her throat before sinking back into its place, the warrior in her waking up, calming her hitched breath, soothing her erratic heart. Without hesitating, she reached up, snatching Zura off Andrei’s shoulders and curling her body around her as she ducked into an alcove of a store.
Time seemed to catch up with her, surprise transforming all three guy’s faces as the dart flew through the air. Andrei’s speed coming into play as he raised his hand and caught the silver dart that would have sunk into Zura’s back between his fingers.
The easy demeanour of the guys completely disappeared, replaced with anger as they turned, their eyes scanning the crowd.
Ridhor moved first, quickly closing the space between them so he could put his body in the alcove, blocking them from whatever was happening on the street.
Screams erased the other sounds of the street. People around them dropping to the floor or flung through the air. Orren’s arms shot out, most of the people surrounding them on the street disappearing.
Melas’ eyes scanned everything around her.
Running her hand slowly down Zura’s face, she cupped her chin in her hands. “The guys will protect you but you have to protect yourself. Do you understand?”
Zura’s small fist pulled a blade from the belt Ridhor made her. “They can’t catch you if they can’t find you.” A look of understanding passed between them.
Chaos surrounded them.
Orren cleared the street of most people but there were still some rushing towards the storefronts. Trying to get inside, off the street as orbs of fire hit cars, setting off their alarms and scorching the leaves of the palms overhead.
A thick navy orb stretched over the city above them. She wasn’t sure if it would keep them in, but she knew it had been put there to keep enemies out. She wasn’t sure what Orren’s wards would do against people using portals.
Clasping the top of Zura’s arms, she held her gaze.
This was the perfect time to tell Zura she loved her. To say all the things they sometimes forgot were important to share. She wouldn’t though, speaking those words out loud would be like saying goodbye. She would never stop breathing so long as Zura was here.
Never. There would be no goodbyes, no heartfelt promises. Not for them.
A portal appeared at Ridhor’s side. He reached inside pulling out an array of weapons. He tossed a broad sword to Andrei, a katana to Orren and pulled out two axes for himself. “What do you need?” He asked Melas, knowing full well there was no way she would stand on the sidelines.
She had her knife but she didn’t want to put enough space between her and Zura to use it. “A bow.” Did she even know how to use a bow? The question flickered in her mind for a moment before he pulled two from the portal. The bows were hand-carved, the wood smelling like Ridhor as he handed it to her. Her fingers traced the intricate carvings covering them. The massive bow almost as long as she was tall.
A quiver was handed to her, the same symbols carved into the leather.
“It will just be a bow for you.” She wasn’t sure what that meant. “Aim for the centre of mass. Mortal weapons may be better. A gun, but I do not keep those,” he told her.
A gun would be better. Anyone could pick up a gun, point and shoot.
Her eyes searched the chaos.
Cars were on their sides, lifeless bodies leaning against them. Anything people were holding when the attack began was scattered over the streets; shopping bags, ice cream cones, other confections offered by vendors, even shoes peppered the sidewalks and street.
Her eyes landed on a car maybe forty-five metres from where she crouched in the doorway. The lights on the top flashed red and blue. Two lifeless officers were lying on the ground next to it.
They would have guns.
Taking in a deep breath, she looked back at Zura. “Stay low, stay hidden. Do you understand?”
Zura nodded.
“Nothing will get to Zura. On my life,” Ridhor said plainly, the portal closing beside him.
She closed her eyes for a moment. Every inch of her pulsed with something she couldn’t quite understand. It set fire to the warrior inside her, urging her forward. No one attacked her or her child and lived to tell about it. When she let out the breath she was holding and stepped out from behind Ridhor, time slowed.
Pulling an arrow from the quiver she threw onto her back, she anchored the arrow and drew back on the string. The fletching of the bow brushed against her cheekbone as her eyes scanned the scene around her. Her footsteps were slow, moving towards the police car with purpose.
Orren had his sword in one hand, lifted above him in mid-swing. His second hand was held open at his side, a navy blue orb in his palm tha
t sparked with a lightning storm inside.
Andrei had his katana deep in the chest of a man with dark purple skin and long orange hair. His fingernails on his other hand elongated as they sunk into the throat of what Melas was sure was some kind of Goblin. It was large standing over Andrei, causing him to reach up. His mouth a gnarly slash across his face with teeth that shot out from his protruding jaw. His eyes were large, his skin a sickly green and thin black hair on the top of his head. His massive hands closed around Andrei’s arms, a snarl on his lips as deep green blood ran from where Andrei held him.
Hordes of magical beings ran down the street towards them. Beings with every colour of skin she thought were from the Seelie Realm; different types of Elves, more Goblins, and what she knew just by looking at them were Ghouls. It was odd to see so many different beings working together to attack them. From what she learned, she thought they mostly stuck to their kind and her guys were the exception.
The mass parted at the end of the street. Four large beings stood there, watching.
Her eyes scanned over them, taking them in. They were massive.
Muscular legs covered in thick brown hair and tapered down to massive hooves stood on the end. The expanse of his human-looking chest made Ridhor look tiny in comparison. A massive bull’s head sat on his shoulders, his horns sprouting from his temples and curving outwards a metre above his head. The golden ring in his nose swung as steam blew from his nostrils. His thick arms crossing his chest as his red eyes locked onto her. A Minotaur.
To the right of him was something she was sure summoned nightmares, not the cute kind Zura played with. Its frame was nearly skeletal, greying flesh stretched across limbs that were far too long and gangly. Long, talon-like nails spread from its fingers, its frame slightly hunched over. All its bones were evident, its flesh darkening slightly where the flesh dipped between its ribs. Standing tall, it towered even the Minotaur beside it. Its large antlers stretching up above its head, pieces of bleeding flesh hanging from them. Its face was sunken in and mostly cast in shadow, but the eerie grin showed her rows of sharp teeth, stained with blood.
Hidden In Darkness (A Seven Realms Book Book 1) Page 33