Unborn

by Natusch, Amber Lynn

  “All I know is he’s still a raging asshole.”

  “Agreed,” Pierson chimed in, his expression still severe.

  I could not help but see the humor in Kierson’s response.

  The abrupt opening of the front door jarred the three of us to attention. Our momentary distraction had let us all forget what was headed our way. Thankfully, all that found us in that second was Drew.

  “Casey back yet?” he asked as he walked into the living room. “I’ve been trying to reach him.”

  “If he is looking for the gargoyles, he will most likely be in the sewers. I can’t imagine that the service there is at all foolproof.”

  “Good point,” Drew replied, but something in his eyes said that he wasn’t fully convinced of the veracity of Pierson’s claim. “I just can’t imagine it’s taken him this long to hunt them down.”

  “Well, if they did sell him out, I highly doubt they would hide in their normal places,” Kierson offered. “I mean, do you want a pissed-off Casey hunting your ass down?”

  Drew’s look of skepticism disappeared with Kierson’s observation.

  “Better point still,” he said with a smile. “He beat you to that one, Pierson.”

  “That’s because he has copious experience pissing Casey off and hiding from him.”

  Kierson, appearing bested, did nothing to defend himself from Pierson’s allegation.

  He would not have had a chance to, even if he had sought one. Seconds later, Casey stormed through the front door, slamming it violently in his wake.

  “Azriel’s dead,” he blurted out before entering the room.

  “So, I guess you decided he did sell us out then?” Drew asked cautiously.

  “No. I mean I’ve been looking for him for hours, but it’s hard to find a gargoyle during the day, especially when he’s already dead.”

  “Already dead? You didn’t kill him?”

  “Didn’t need to,” Casey growled. “I’m not sure which pisses me off more: not getting answers or not getting to kill him myself.”

  “That can’t mean anything good,” Kierson noted, tightening his grip on the dagger that hung at his waist.

  “No shit,” Casey snarled in response. “I knew he was holding out on me, but I guess I won’t know why now.”

  “Someone is cleaning up their loose ends,” Pierson stated matter-of-factly. “There is no possibility that this is a coincidence. Azriel has lived too many lifetimes to fall easily.”

  “Yeah, well, if you’d seen what was left of his corpse, you wouldn’t think that. He was so mangled I hardly recognized him as a once-living being. It was only after I rooted around in his virtually liquefied remains that I found his lower jaw. His one canine never did look right. It was nearly twice the size of the others.”

  “And he was alone? You didn’t see any of the others?” Drew pressed, trying to piece together what little information he could to better grasp the meaning of what Casey had found.

  “There was no sign of any other gargoyles to be found in all of the greater Detroit area. That’s the main reason I’ve been gone so long. After locating what was left of Azriel, I’ve been trying to find a single one of them,” Casey explained, his typical demeanor traded in momentarily for one of confusion. “It’s like they just vanished.”

  “Jesus Christ . . .” Drew uttered in disbelief.

  “You called?” Oz shouted from the foyer of the Victorian, punctuating his remark with a slam of the front door. He strode in, looking every bit his arrogant self, but it belied a tension that I could not ignore. I did not know why I sensed this, but I did. The second his eyes met mine, I was certain. “Never mind with the pleasantries, boys. Our little situation has been upgraded to a big fucking catastrophe.”

  “What did you find out?” Drew demanded, striding across the room to meet Oz.

  “I found out that there are more Stealers than you could possibly imagine. I found out that they aren’t working alone—that other supernaturals are working alongside them. And, most importantly,” he started, hazarding a glance at me, “I found out who’s behind their uprising.”

  “Who?” Drew pressed, anxiously awaiting his response. Oz, however, looked uneasy, not wanting to divulge his secret.

  With a heavy breath, he finally did.

  “Deimos. He’s one of the—”

  “We are well aware of who he is, Oz,” Drew snapped, cutting him off. A brief silence then filled the room just before chaos overtook it. “But what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense.” He looked to me for confirmation. “Khara said herself that if Deimos were aware of her whereabouts, he would just come for her.”

  “I must agree with Drew. Your information is false. If Deimos were here, I would know it,” I said calmly, though the mere mention of his name sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Oh, really?” Oz retorted, his condescension plain. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because he plagued my time in the Underworld since I was a child,” I reminded them, my words more heated than I expected them to be. “He views me as a long sought-after prize, and if Deimos were here I no longer would be. He would have stolen me right out from under your noses and taken me back to the Underworld to resume his demented form of courtship without giving a second thought about it. He is not an elaborate schemer, Oz. He is a taker. And when he wants something badly enough, that is precisely what he does.”

  Oz’s eyes narrowed harshly at me.

  “You are his?” he asked, unable to disguise the disgust in his voice.

  “I am no one’s.” I stared back at him, my eyes devoid of the emotion that brewed within me. It was strange and inexplicable. “And you are wrong. Deimos is not behind this.”

  His eyes widened with rage momentarily before he contained it.

  “Who told you about Deimos?” Drew asked, still standing between Oz and me.

  “That’s not really important now, is it?” Oz snarled. “What’s important is that we figure something out, and really fucking quick, because I don’t know about you but I don’t know how to kill that bastard. So, unless you want to wait until he shows up on your doorstep to r d%" align=try a few things out, we need to move. Now.”

  But the brothers did not. In complete contradiction to the night at the Tenth Circle, when they whisked me away from perceived danger on Oz’s command, they stood defiantly, unwilling to take him at his word. Something was amiss, and I was in the dark as to what.

  Clearly seeing their lack of cooperation, Oz’s anger rose to a level that even his well-manufactured façade could not contain.

  “Of all the times you could question my judgment, you choose now?” he roared. “Listen to the words coming out of my mouth: Deimos is here. He is coming for her with an army of soulless bastards. You need to get her out of here now!”

  “Maybe that’s exactly what you want us to do,” Drew shrewdly observed. “You know more than you’re saying, and until I know what that is, we’re not going anywhere.”

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?” Oz shouted.

  “I don’t think I have,” Drew replied, maintaining an eerie level of calm. It was a complete contradiction of Oz’s fury.

  “Drew,” Kierson piped up from behind us. “If he’s right, then we need to go. I don’t know what you think is going on but—”

  “It’s not what I think, Kierson; it’s what I know,” he said, addressing his brother with a glance over his shoulder. Then he pinned hateful eyes back on Oz. “What do you think I’ve been doing all day? Khara may have thought you were to be trusted, Oz, but I didn’t. There were too many red flags to be ignored.” Oz’s body twitched with anger. “So I followed you. Your arrogance clouded your focus, thinking that you had once again wriggled off the hook. But you hadn’t.”

  “What happened?” Kierson asked, his voice a ghost of a whisper.

  “Do you want to tell them, or should I?” Drew posed the question to Oz, but received no answer. “Fine. I’ll do it.” He turn
ed to address the rest of us, his eyes fierce and sharp. “I followed him down to the old shipping district on the outskirts of the city. He never faltered once, as though he had always known where they were—like he’d been there before.” He paused dramatically, allowing the implication to settle fully in our minds before continuing. “I looked on as he entered the building without hesitation, even though there were guards at the door. They never made a move to stop him.”

  “And why would they?” Oz snapped, no longer able to contain his rage. “They knew instantly who and what I am. They knew I slaughtered a hundred of their own last night without even breaking a sweat. Do you think they wanted to die?”

  “Last night, in the street,” I started, recalling our battle. “The one that tried to take me called you by name.” I looked at Oz curiously. “He knew you.”

  “Of course he did,” Oz snapped. “I’m what legends are made of. Do you think there are many supernaturals in this world who don’t know me by name?”

  “That’s a convenient excuse,” Drew retorted, his eyes burning with distrust.

  “The truth usually is, Drew. But, please, feel free to continue wasting time. Time that we don’t have.”

  Ignoring both Oz’s attempt to defend himself and his warning, Drew continued his incrimination.

  “I sat outside that building for an hour or two, waiting for any sign of distress or sound of a fight, but there were none,” Drew explained, continuing to ignore Oz. “Eventually, you walked out just as easily as you went in. No problems at all. I wonder why that ider sts?”

  “You asked me to find them, and I did. You asked me to get the information you wanted, and I did. And now you’re fucking around about semantics when you need to get her the fuck out of Dodge, Drew,” Oz shouted. “Put your petty shit aside for right now. You can be pissed at me later—when she’s safe from Deimos!”

  “You’re really pushing hard for us to leave here, Oz. I can’t help but wonder why you want us to flee from the one place she is most safe,” Drew pondered aloud, baiting Oz with every word. “She’s protected here, not only by us but also the wards. Leaving here would remove the latter obstacle for the enemy. It also removes Sean from the equation, too, because he’s due to show up any time now, but you know that already, don’t you? And who else would better know the warring abilities of Sean than you, who has been on the receiving end of them before?” Oz silently scowled, allowing Drew to arrive at his conclusion, which everyone—including myself—could now see coming. “You are hardly a novice in the art of war, Ozereus. You are as cunning and shrewd as any I have ever fought beside, and you of all people would know that the simplest way to take a target out is to drive it away from its optimal place of defense.”

  “True,” replied Oz, clipping that single word so short it was barely audible.

  “Drew,” Pierson called, directing attention away from Oz. “Where is all of this coming from? I agree that it is no coincidence that Oz so easily tracked the Stealers down, but it is quite a leap from questioning Oz’s previous knowledge of the Stealers to purposely trying to put Khara in harm’s way.” Pierson assessed Drew’s expression for a moment, reading something in it that I could not see. “Your argument, though logical in a sense, seems largely unfounded. You have never doubted Oz’s judgment in battle before. Why now? What has changed your mind?”

  “Because I saw something in Oz the night that Khara was attacked that I have never seen in him before—guilt.” His eyes wandered back to Oz. “And, at the time, I could not place what you would have to feel guilty about. At first, I thought that maybe you felt badly that one of your own was attacked because of what she was and that you could not change that for her, but then, really, if you lack that power, is it really your fault? You can do no more for her in that regard than the rest of us. And you, more than anyone I know, would not feel guilty about something you could not control. So I knew that could not be the reason.”

  Drew strode slowly toward Oz, who maintained his remarkable silence, despite being slandered.

  “The more I thought about it, the more I realized that your behavior had not made sense. Your reaction at the club when she exposed herself, your call to us in the Heidelberg Project, and your insistence to track down the Stealers alone today,” he continued, pressing closer and closer to Oz, blade drawn. “I wonder how you can stand here and face us after lying and scheming the way you have. You may have felt guilt for what you’ve done, but it has done nothing to stifle your deceitful ways, has it? You’re setting Khara up, and I want to know why. What price was high enough to make you willing to send her to slaughter with little more than a pang of guilt?”

  “She’s going to be taken if we stay here,” Oz countered, maintaining his original story.

  “Oh, yes . . . because Deimos is coming for her,” Drew replied sardonically. “You might have tried to find a better reason than that, since even Khara does not believe your lie.” Oz looked to me, a rare pain in his expression that could not be ignored. “See!” Drew shouted. “That itedn. “I ws what I saw the other night. Deny that what I’m saying is true, Oz.”

  Those pain-filled eyes stayed fixed on mine as Oz addressed me and me alone.

  “We have to go, Khara. They are coming for you,” he said softly. “You believed I was not a liar only hours ago. Believe that still. I never lied to you, and I am not lying about this.”

  “You betrayed us,” Drew spat, cutting off Oz’s line of sight. “You betrayed us all.”

  “No!” Oz shouted, cracking under the pressure of Drew’s words. “I betrayed you and your brothers.” He thrust his finger into Drew’s chest, shoving him backward. “You want to know why I knew what I knew and did what I did? Because the Stealers have been paying me off, that’s why. They’ve been back for longer than you’ll care to know, and my job was to make sure you didn’t know about it.” His face contorted into a smug smile as he turned to address the brothers. “Seems like I’m better at my job than you are at yours.”

  “You motherfucker,” Kierson snarled.

  “Helloooo . . . fallen, remember?” Oz mocked, sweeping his arms wide in a grand gesture. “I never claimed to be loyal. And I certainly don’t have the unlimited financial resources that the PC has. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. You can hardly fault me for that.”

  “Wanna bet?” Casey growled, launching himself across the room at Oz. I stepped before him just as he raised his blade to slice down upon his intended victim. He looked at me curiously through fiery eyes. I was certain that I had only further solidified his thoughts about me being a “crazy bitch.”

  “Let him finish,” I said softly, holding Casey back weakly with my outstretched arm. When I knew he would not advance, I turned to face Oz, my expression remaining impassive.

  “I betrayed them, that much is true. But I have never betrayed you.” Again his sad eyes found mine and held them captive. “I went to the Stealers today to try and find a way to stop this by offering them something else in trade, but there was no deal to be had. Deimos was behind the Heidelberg fight, and, I assure you, he is coming for you now. I don’t know when he came into the picture or what he wants. They weren’t overly forthcoming with that information, and I didn’t want to waste any more time to try and force it out of them. Khara, we can’t protect you from Deimos. The only way to escape is to run. You need to do this,” he pressured, quickly looking off to the west through the walls of the house. “There’s no more time.”

  Not awaiting a response, he grabbed my hand and started up the stairs, dragging me behind him. Just as we crested the landing of the second floor, Pierson let out a shrill cry that stopped me cold. Yanking my hand out of Oz’s grasp, I descended the steps as quickly as I could until I saw Pierson lying on the ground, his hands clamped violently around his skull. Kierson was by his side, trying to determine what was attacking his twin. Helplessness overtook him, and he looked up to me for some shred of an answer.

  At that very moment, I realized that I
had one for him, though it was not one that I wanted to share. The familiar tremors that I felt whenever Deimos was present started up my spine before I could stifle them. He was near. Oz had not lied.

  Pierson grabbed Kierson’s wrist while he continued to writhe on the floor. The second they touched, Kierson joined his brother, fighting the unseen alongside him. Oz came down to join me, observing the twins to assess what was causing their identical behavior.

  “The wards,” he finally said franticallaidme, y, rushing past me to Drew. “How does Pierson feed them?”

  “I don’t know,” Drew replied tightly, running over to Pierson. “Is it the wards? Are they falling?” His words were a plea. I could hear the desperation in them, begging for Oz to be wrong.

  “Can’t . . . hold them,” Pierson panted before his and Kierson’s pain ended, the two laboring to catch their breath.

  “Incoming!” Casey shouted, looking out the back windows. From where I stood, I could not see what he did, nor was I permitted the chance. Grabbing my hand again, Oz rushed me up the stairs and down the hall. He ran with purpose, whispering the same words he had the night we fought the Stealers in the street.

  “Khara,” he called over his shoulder once he had completed his chant. “We may be too late.” The look on his face was one I had seen before, though not on him. His expression was coated with the same fear my father wore when I was taken from the Underworld, though the danger that advanced upon us now was far greater than a single Dark One. It was far greater than I, or any of my brothers, had expected. Oz, however, had not underestimated it.

  He had a plan.

  Whipping me up the final set of stairs to his room, he dragged me through the door, then paused for a moment to look at me. His jaw worked furiously, doing its best to contain the thoughts he was struggling with. I stood steadfast, awaiting his directive, though none ever came. Instead, he shoved me toward the spiraling staircase, forcing me up the steps and through the window that led onto the third-floor rooftop. He followed close behind. I wasn’t certain how being on an exposed rooftop was an improvement to our situation, but I trusted that his plan had accounted for this risk.