The four looming spectators could have levelled the playing field between them, their power enough to leave a scent in the air rich with duplicitous sin and mayhem. Her warrior charged in anticipation, frothing at the mouth at the challenge only to be left unfulfilled.
She couldn’t make sense of their plan. Even if the dart struck Zura, they still wouldn’t have been able to take her without confrontation. She wondered if they would have skulked away, leaving an unconscious Zura behind.
Melas leaned her forearms against the railing looking down at the wooded area below the house. The winds still whispering change as they gently breezed by.
Orren assured her the wards surrounding the property left them in an impenetrable safe haven, but she couldn’t help feel vulnerable.
If she fought the four looming figures yesterday, she would feel better. The Wendigo toyed with her, but she knew it barely showed them a glimpse of its strength and power.
None of them had.
Annoyance ate away at her, the hair standing up on her arms. Frowning, she pushed away from the railing and walked down the steps.
Zura giggled, running around with Nyx, Nox, and a little boy whose name she didn’t know yet. The sound of their little feet slapping off the terrace should have her smiling, it was soothing in a way nothing else was but it offered no distraction from the chaos of her mind.
The stairs had glass sides with cool steel banisters in theme with the contemporary look of the house. The lower level still upholding the architectural design but hidden by the trees. It was darker down here, out of the reach of the sun, cooler too. She felt instant relief from the heat as she walked away from the house and into the trees.
The sun peeked through the canopy, casting rays of sunshine towards the ground. It felt like a painting as she walked through the natural spotlights, so surreal. It would calm her on another day, today her nerves were pulled tight.
Something was here.
Her body readied itself. Her hand grabbing the knife from where it was sheathed on her hip. The lightweight blade in her hand made her smile, memories of when Ridhor gave them to her floating to the forefront of her mind as she stalked the woods.
Eyes followed her like handprints on her flesh. Invasive and unwanted.
Flipping the blade through her fingers, she evened her breath.
One. Alone. Big, heavy.
Her mind painted a picture, urging her forward. She wasn’t some damsel waiting to be rescued. She wasn’t someone to turn and run when there was a threat. If she ran, the threat would always be there, somewhere behind her. Any threat needed to be kept in front, where she could keep an eye on it. Where she could stalk and eliminate it.
She would eliminate it, she had to.
A towering figure emerged from behind a tree, his red flesh deep. He looked drenched in blood, the black markings covering him only making him all the more ominous. He radiated death and destruction, breathing chaos and laughing misery. He was a daunting figure. The slow smile stretching across his face one dripping with malice as his charcoal eyes roamed from top to toe.
Melas watched him in return, calm and collected.
He was in Hollywood. She piqued his interest enough to force him here. Like a beacon, calling to him. Powerless to do anything else. Power always sought out power, monsters called to other monsters.
Who she was still evaded her. That darkness hiding her memories as much a part of her as anything else. The way the cold darkness seeped into her, ridding her of any emotions, fuelling her to move forward, to destroy. Of course, the Demon would be the one to follow her here. They were likely woven from the same shadows, crafted in the same heat of anger and destruction.
Fire and brimstone filled her nostrils, the rancid stench of sulphur clinging to him like cologne.
He exuded confidence, walking a slow circle around her. His eyes endless black voids. “I had my reservations when we were tasked to find and follow you. Your packaging, though attractive, seems fragile and unimpressive,” he huffed.
Melas let the blades dance around her fingers, refusing to turn her head to follow him with her gaze as he moved behind her, continuing his slow circle. He was a predator who had the ill-conceived notion she was prey. She was meant to cower, to be overtaken by fear as he moved. All she felt was calm.
Heat moved over her skin, kissing every inch of her. A caress so familiar she wanted to burrow into it, let it overtake her completely as she waited for him to make his move.
She had time. She could wait.
“The way your face transformed, such small almost missable changes to your features when you sensed me here. It’s impressive. You’ve great power hidden inside you, down in the depth hidden by this rather delicate figure.” He stopped in front of her, the whites of his teeth seemed out of place against the deep red of his flesh. “How Thiriel came across you, I’ve no idea. Someone like you, a goddess amongst livestock and peons.”
She cocked a brow.
“You’re wasted here. I think you’d be wasted with Thiriel. He hasn’t the power to reign you in. Control you.”
She threw her head back, letting out a dramatic laugh. “Control me? You think you can?”
Squaring his feet, he opened his hand. An orb of fire flickered to life in his palm. “I’ve no doubt I could keep you underfoot.”
The forests in California were dry. The heat seemed to sap all water from the soils and leaves making it perfect kindling for a hungry flame. It didn’t help the place was victim to constant droughts. The flame in his hand may not be something she was afraid of, but it could quickly set these woods ablaze.
Zura was not far, the thought of greedy flames eating up the woods around Orren’s posh home while her daughter was still inside made her eye the Demon warily. She couldn’t risk him setting his fires loose here.
Grabbing hold of her blade, she flipped it between her fingers before tossing it toward him. The knife flew through the air, sinking into his wrist.
A growl bubbled up his throat as the orb of fire disappeared, smoke rising from the skin of his palms. His grimace quickly turned to a simper as he looked at her. “Don’t want to play with fire?”
Reaching out, she grabbed a brittle branch from a tree, snapping it in her hands. “Not here.”
His eyes moved around the trees, a slight nod of understanding bobbing his head. “Have a soft spot for the Mortal Realm, do you? All of this is nothing more than wasteland. Once blissful, destroyed at the hands of senseless beings who have no idea what to do with a paradise. This is their third chance, still, this realm is on the brink of eradication. Why these useless beings keep getting chances is beyond me.” He rolled his eyes. “What’s one more fire?”
One thing she was learning was very few beings seemed to like humans. This Demon was no different. She had no doubt he would set this whole world on fire and not lose a wink of sleep.
His gaze was heavy and ravenous.
Zura and the Nightmares giggled above her. She decided she didn’t care why he was here. Didn’t care why he was looking at her the way he was now. All she cared about was getting rid of him. Putting as much space between him and Zura as possible.
Closing the space between them, she pulled her second blade from its sheath and slashed forward, slicing through the thick skin on his bare chest. Her hand closed over the blade in his wrist, pulling it free as she spun the blade and sunk it into his thigh.
He stumbled back. “You’re quite magnificent, Melas.”
It annoyed her hearing her name on his lips. It felt vile in his deep voice, like a throat ragged from screaming, breathy and raspy. Harsh on her ears.
“You’re being rude. You’re supposed to introduce yourself to someone before a battle. No matter.” He pressed a hand to his chest, running his fingers through the flesh she just opened. His touch was slow, teasing. “Kiren.”
She didn’t care what his name was.
Reaching over his shoulder, Kiren pulled a blade from some unseen p
lace on his back. The edges were heavily serrated in a flame-like design. It wasn’t overly long, it wouldn’t take much strength or effort to swing it around quickly.
Rotating her head, she cracked her neck easing it of some of its tightness.
Lunging forward, sparks flew as her blades connected with his. She pressed her weight into his and his heels dug into the earth. The dirt rose behind his feet as he dug in, using his strength to push against her and keep his footing.
Kiren’s eyes flickered in surprise, a small crease dotting his brow before a wide smile took over his face. He was pleased with the challenge, happy she had strength enough to compete with him on a level footing.
He was a warrior, she could sense it in him. He lived for the fight, for the challenge. She would give it to him.
The sound of blades connecting sang through the woods, sparks flying as they grit their teeth. Her arms moved in a quick flurry, her muscles pushing each thrust and swing of her blades.
Kiren took a step back, snarling.
She could beat him, she knew without hesitation.
Warmth bloomed in her belly and she let herself swim in it. It moved up her arms, stretching over the length of her fingers. The blades in her hand lit for a moment, illuminated runes dancing over the sleek metal before, just as with the guns, they transformed.
The blades curved, turning into sickles. The leather-wrapped handles extending to press against her forearms. The symbols were familiar, her eyes tracing them a mere moment before she swung hard. The sickles cut through the demon’s blade.
His chest heaving, he kept the smile on his face as he looked at her, then down at the broken weapon. “You’re just full of surprises.”
“Mama!” Zura’s voice was suddenly behind her.
Her heart leapt in her throat, her head whipping to the side. Zura’s small figure appeared at the bottom of the steps. Pain sliced through her as the broken blade moved through her forearm, parallel to the handle of her blade.
“Until next time,” he whispered.
Then, he was gone leaving the smell of sulphur thick in the air.
Annoyance shook her. Lifting her arm, she looked down at the damage. Nothing a few more stitches couldn’t fix. Sighing, she let her eyes wander the space around her.
A scorch mark where he opened a portal was all he left behind.
Turning, she made her way back towards Zura. “Zura, baby. You can’t go wandering off. No matter where you go, you need to have one of us with you. Even if it’s to look for me, do you understand?”
She nodded, looking down at Melas’ arm. “He cut you.”
Scooping Zura up in her arms, she quickly went up the stairs. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’m fine.”
“Why was he here?”
Because she was a beacon for trouble and sooner or later it was all going to catch up with her.
“Orren, Andrei, and Ridhor are not going to be happy about this.” Zura scowled.
“I’m sure they won’t.”
“Maybe you should make sure you’re always with someone too.”
As independent as she was, she didn’t completely hate the suggestion. It was becoming clear to her whatever plans Thiriel had, he was setting them into motion. It wouldn’t be long now until whatever he planned came at them in full force.
* * *
There’s something so all-consuming about being a mother. It’s reaching into your chest, pulling your heart out of your body and giving it to this little person to carry around. It’s empowering, lighting this primal fire in you that dares anyone to try to get close enough to what’s yours, to harm them in the smallest fraction.
It’s vulnerable. It saps everything from you, leaving you so entirely spent when the day is done.
In the heat of battle, her life was meaningless. She would take the heads of a thousand arrows, the slashes of countless knives and bleed every drop of blood that flowed through her veins if that were the cost of Zura’s safety. When it came to that, she would always pay whatever price with a smile on her face.
That’s what it was to be a mother.
All those other moms, the selfish ones who put their wants and needs above their child, the ones who blamed their kids for their poor decisions, who didn’t ache for them, breathe for them, those weren’t mothers. Not really.
She wondered what some of the cursed beings would do for those neglected children. How much they’d sacrifice for them. It was something to consider. All those unloved kids in the Mortal Realm, victims of their circumstances and a system that isn’t designed to keep them safe. They’d be welcome in the other realms. Cherished. Wanted.
Her heart ached for them. Just as it beat for Zura.
Her thoughts were on nothing else during the whole battle. She was constantly aware of her, one eye making sure Ridhor was keeping her safe and protected. Preparing to dart over.
As calm as she was, there was a pulse of anxiety surging through her. Her skin buzzing like she touched a live wire as her mind pushed her. Urging her to keep Zura always at the forefront of her mind.
Now it was over, she felt her throat tighten uncomfortably. Her eyes burning as tears threatened to make an appearance. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly all of a sudden. First the fight on Hollywood Boulevard, then the appearance of Kiren just outside these walls.
Any misstep could cost her everything. It could cost her Zura.
She was overwhelmed with the relief she felt, looking into the bedroom Zura claimed as her own. The dim glow of the nightlight showing her Zura’s sleepy face. The duvet pulled up over her chest, one arm thrown over her head. Sunk into hair that somehow seemed twice the mass it was when she was awake. Her mouth was slightly gaping, her thick lashes curling over her cheek. The day wore her out. She willingly jumped into the warm sands of the Sandman.
Melas felt his pull even now, but she couldn’t bring herself to step away from the door. Her eyes glued to the slow rise and fall of Zura’s chest.
Warm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into a chest that smelled of spice with a hint of that metallic edge.
Andrei.
She leaned into him, letting him support her weight. “You should let Ridhor patch you up.” His voice was husky, filled with emotion as he burrowed his face into the side of her neck. His grip tightening.
Melas didn’t move away from the door, her eyes still on Zura as she felt his emotions seeping into her. He was worried and relieved. Relieved they were all here, pretty much unscathed. Worried about how close Kiren had gotten to Orren’s wards. Worried about what would come next. There was something else, a weighted emotion that felt like a stone pressing into her chest.
That was what kept her in his arms, erasing the urge to step away.
“The thought of losing you two—” His words fell away, swallowed by the heavy thickness of his emotions. “It was reckless of you to wander off on your own, so soon after everything.”
She wanted to be annoyed with him but he was right. So much happened. She knew she was at risk but she still put herself in a position where they could get to her. She hadn’t just wandered off the terrace, she wandered outside the wards.
There was a reason Kiren stood in the woods. Helpless to do anything else, the house inside the wards completely out of his reach. Those wards only worked if they stayed inside them.
She would be upset if any of the guys did what she had. The battle left her feeling emotionally raw.
The three of them fought well. She’d been aware of them even while preoccupied. She could see the flurry of Andrei’s movements, cutting through the horde so quickly and effortlessly. His eyes black, lined with red and a snarl on his face.
Orren wasn’t slow, even compared to the inhuman speed of Andrei. Elegant and graceful, every swipe of his blade powerful choreography.
Ridhor was brute force. As impressive as the other two were, they paled in comparison to Ridhor who fought off the horde as though he were batting away flies wh
ile also fighting off the beast that pulled at him. Using his emotions to convince him to surrender to its calling. She hadn’t known if he would be able to ignore his beast, keep control. Especially with those four ominous figures just watching, playing with them.
They won the battle but she wasn’t naive. She knew this was the start of whatever war Thiriel planned. One she could’ve been a part of before meeting the guys, but she had no way of knowing that now.
Tapping her hand lightly against Andrei’s, she turned her face slightly, keeping her eyes on Zura. “We’re alive and we always will be. I’ll make sure of that.” She didn’t doubt that for a moment.
“Come.” He took a gentle step back, even though he held her firmly in his arm. He knew there was nothing he could do to pull her from her spot if that was where she wanted to be. He could only hope to convince her to step with him. “The others are waiting in your room to patch you up and yell at you. Orren is in a bit of a mood, Ridhor seems more concerned with the amount of blood you’ve lost.”
“And you?”
Andrei inhaled sharply, his nostrils no doubt taking in the scent of blood she was wrapped in. When she looked into his eyes, they were rimmed with red and heat. “I’m a healthy mix of both angry and worried.”
“Worried? About me?” She pulled her blade from its sheath and spun it around between her fingers. “I’d think by now you all knew better.” Worrying about someone wasn’t logical, she knew that. They cared about her now, which meant they would worry about her regardless of her strengths.
She knew that too.
Her worry for the guys was something she actively pushed aside. They were centuries old, they survived long before she came along and would continue to survive long after. That didn’t stop that seed of worry from being planted in her gut when she sensed danger.
Caring about other people was tiring and frustrating.
Hidden In Darkness (A Seven Realms Book Book 1) Page 36