Summon (Rae Wilder)

by Penelope Fletcher

  She recoiled, hurt. “What?”

  Donning the voice I used for war, I turned wintry eyes on her. “I cannot concentrate with you near.”

  Unblinking, she stared. “Why.”

  Scrutinising my face, Malice smiled at the discovery he made. “Because he loves you.”

  Daphne’s quick intake of breath cut short. She lowered and leaned her torso forward preparing to attack.

  Uneasy, I motioned strongly for her to remain still.

  Malice jumped onto his hunches. He swiped an arm over his face smearing red across his cheek. “If I told you I fight for amusement, that I am done here and will leave the fight as a gesture of peace would you believe me?”

  “No,” we replied.

  Standing, he clucked. “Too bad.” Malice bunched his arms together then flung out his hands.

  Fire spewed from his palms.

  Daphne screamed my name and launched herself at me. Not her. Grabbing her around the waist, I spun, forced her down and curled my shoulders. I pushed my magics around us in a shield. A shimmer of bluish energy raced over my skin then lifted, appearing as if a finely spun web. It extended just past my skin before fringes of heat scorched my flesh.

  I roared as the blistering flames rolled over me. I’m burning. Malice’s laughter echoed in my ears.

  Daphne screamed and struggled in my arms.

  The world went black.

  My flattened cheek pressed something cold and firm. Grainy. Signals of pain transmitted by my raw nerves consumed my prone form in undulations of biting sensation.

  Sucking air through my teeth, I groaned. Singed tissue on my back healed, and the breadth of skin tingled distractingly.

  Unconsciousness tugged on my awareness of the world as the healing progressed. My rational mind understood this. My reserves depleted, and I needed rest yet fear crushed my chest.

  My heart aches.

  The zealous desire to protect someone brought sweat to my brow.

  Strangely, I thought of Rae. Reached to a memory of her as I would the Source for strength. She’d be able to protect what she loved. No matter how tired, Rae would keep going. I witnessed her face impossible odds and emerge victorious.

  ‘I can’t reach you. Get up and fight, Lochlann.’

  Rae’s disembodied voice heralded a gushing surge of energy.

  I gasped.

  Each lash weighted by fatigue, my eyelids fought, and won, to flutter open.

  This looks wrong. The dilapidated ceiling looked like the floor. What is that blur? Hazy figures danced. I cursed. The Warrior in me dispelled the quaint misinterpretation. Your woman and enemy are not dancing.

  Daphne sparred with Malice. Clothes ripped, movement sluggish, she favoured a leg. An arm hung limp at her side.

  Malice hooted when she rushed him. He sidestepped and shoved her into the wall.

  Clamping a hand around her slender neck, he lifted her off the ground and took hold of her good arm, roughly twisting it. “Give up now. I’m not evil. I….” He trailed off. Leaned in to nose her neck. “You smell sweet. Agree to spend a night with me. I’ll let you live.”

  Wide eyes mirroring her panic, Daphne clawed at his face like a wildcat. Kneed him in the side with her good leg. She snarled and snapped when Malice didn’t flinch.

  His hand tightened.

  Daphne’s eyes rolled into the back of her head.

  Slapping a hand on the ground, I levered onto one leg. Not her. Ululating a battle cry, I darted across the room. My forearms clamped over his head either side, and my hands locked behind his head, trapping him against my chest. I had him. Concentration fierce, I lurched back dragging him with me.

  Malice let Daphne go to wheel his arms. He swung back to get a hold on me. I ignored the fingernails glancing my face, scratching deeply to draw blood.

  My magics blazed in a vibrant aura of blue and green. I held nothing back. I sucked as much power from the Source as I’d ever held and still drew more.

  Malice expended his power trying to break free. His purple magics hammered against the force field I confined us within. Crashed against it in immense blows that made my ears ring and my eyes water.

  It won’t hold.

  “Daphne!”

  Coughing, Daphne clasped her throat. Pushing with her knees, she slid up the wall, using it as a prop to help her stand. Her gaze skimmed Malice’s front. She tensed. Leapt. Sleekly muscled legs wrapped tightly around the godling’s waist. Her weaker right arm hooked around his thick neck. The left jabbed forward, and she punched him in the nose.

  Fisting the plaits at the nape of Malice’s neck, Daphne yanked back his head back exposing his throat.

  Grunting, he grabbed her hair and pulled. His strength lessened defending against my magical attack, but he managed to hold her in place.

  Daphne glanced at me over Malice’s shoulder.

  Strained, I flashed a predatory grin. “Don’t be afraid. Do it.”

  The whites of her eyes blotted as darkness spread from her pupils. The whites of her eyes became puddles of black ink. Face twisting as she snarled, her sharp fangs descended into deadlier spikes before she struck.

  Malice bellowed, his body thrashing.

  The muscles in my thighs quivered. My arms bulged obscenely shooting excruciating pain through my nerves. This bodily hurt is fleeting. Nothing compared to the agony I’ll suffer if I falter. I held steady as the vampire drained the godling.

  Malice ceased flailing and gripped Daphne’s arms. Bright light poured from his palms onto her skin.

  I gagged.

  Her flesh burned. Cooking meat.

  Daphne’s body seized. Her eyes scrunched as bloody tears streamed down her cheeks, but she clung on, and continued to suck. Her cheeks rhythmically hollowed with the spurting gulps.

  Ripples of mottled light pulsed from Malice’s vertically supine form. Cracks appeared in the godling’s immortal armour. “You love her,” he rasped. His reddened eyeballs strained to look at me. “And she loves you.” Tears slipped past the thick rimming of his ebony lashes. “Then pray Bondye honours the gift I give.”

  Something hot gripped my insides and squeezed.

  Daphne arched, crying out around the mouthful of throat she suckled.

  Laughing hysterically, Malice stiffened. His eyes rounded with terror, but he chortled. Bellowing guffaws until hoarse.

  The sinister light intensified and poured in shafts of brilliance from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth.

  The world turned white and silent.

  Death is so still.

  Daphne exploded into ash.

  I shut my eyes. “Be waiting for me.” Fire blasted through me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Rae

  Intuition lifted my chin rather than dropping it when the ground trembled. My eyes closed momentarily as I sought the origin. The grave disturbance creating the peculiar wrongness that sapped the strength from my limbs made the earth quake.

  Steadily forging a path to me through the endless throng of zombies, Breandan brought a vampire to her knees. He roughly grasped her shoulder and chin ready to tear her head off.

  He stiffened mid pull.

  Agony etched his face. He hunched over and covered his chest with both arms rocking side to side.

  Currents of energy belonging to Lochlann and Daphne snapped leaving a vast ache. The warning scarcely prepared me as their voices ripped through my mind. Parts of me shattered, pieces of soul I’d never get back.

  Shoving Maeve away, Marinette clutched her chest. Bloodied fingers clawed at her heart. “Ti Malis.”

  My eyes pinged between the uneven skylines either side of the river then narrowed in pain as light exploded from the upper storey of a high rise and a plume of dust blanketed the landscape.

  Stumbling to her feet and away from Breandan, Gwendolyn grasped her fortune and ran.

  Yelling a word of power, the zombie Ana faced exploded into a pile of mush. Her eyes narrowed with deadly promise as the vam
pire Queen whooshed past.

  Maeve crawled towards me.

  I grabbed her outstretched hand to jerk her closer. Her warm palm clasping mine was bittersweet.

  Swinging round, she shuffled on her side. Tremors wracked her frame, but she pressed her lips together to hold back a whimper and shoved hair from her sweaty cheek.

  Marinette stitched her composure back together, eyes glacial with hatred. She screamed. The ears of the zombies bled. The werewolves fell to the ground whining.

  Throwing her whole body into the motion, she punched the air.

  Lightning shot in every direction. Again and again the godling swung, battering her enemies and her acolytes. She raged until her ire honed on the energy shield I used to protect my allies. She rained blows upon us. On the fringes of my barrier those not sheltered became airborne.

  Clerics, shifters, Knights, and goblins clustered deeper into the protection of the shield or fled into the foggy streets of the city.

  I chanced an anxious look at my life mate. I was too far to protect him in his grief, and Marinette was an unpredictable danger between us.

  Throaty roars amped the intensity of my panic into a freefall. Baako, Amelia and Kalcifer charged Marinette from separate directions.

  “Amelia,” Ana screamed. “Don’t!”

  The godling held up a palm. Baako slammed into an invisible wall, knocking himself unconscious. Spry, Marinette dodged Amelia’s leap and slashed her snowy underbelly with a knife. The werelynx yowled and landed awkwardly on her head. Snap. I flinched at sound of her neck breaking. Her lax bulk skidded across the slushy ground leaving a smear of blood. Marinette twisted, and with a skilled flick of the wrist loosed the bloodied knife. It embedded between Kalcifer’s eyes. The Alpha collapsed. His dead weight sank into the mud, and his furred sides deflated with his last breath. His twitching paws stilled.

  Threads of energy tied to me vanished.

  A wail of denial ripped from Ana. The grief-stricken sobs inflicted shallow cuts to my heart until the distressed organ seized.

  The werewolves threw back their heads and howled. The melancholy sound rose and fell and the werecats added their caterwauls to the baying.

  Marinette struck the largest beast across its muzzle. “Silence. You made your choice.”

  Tears overflowed and dribbled from my chin as I stared at the Alpha. I managed a fleeting look at the gutted werelynx sprawled in a growing puddle of blood.

  Face hot, I rubbed my chest with the heel of my palm. The magnitude of sorrow entombing my senses caused the bleakest terror to overwhelm me. I worked so hard to have a plan. This isn’t the future I fought for. Too many die. And it hurts. The collective anguish affected me in a physical way. Turning my body to lead and my resolve to mush.

  “Hai!”

  My tear-swollen eyes wheeled to the source of the rallying salute.

  Emerging from the river to scramble up the waterlogged bank was a fairy Knight. His dark hair plastered to his rugged face, and his armoured trousers were dented or altogether missing in odd spots. Patchy bruises and slashes crisscrossed his chest.

  Kian swayed at the summit of the incline then straightened to stand tall and proud.

  Stormy clouds rumbled and rolled low at his back.

  Angling his sword towards me, hope burned in his eyes. “Don’t give up.”

  The muscles defining his physique tensed in readiness. Exhaustion bled from his features and his expression transformed into the fiercest of scowls.

  Kian sounded a battle cry and barrelled forward. His rage amplified the resonant ululation torn from his lips.

  Marinette didn’t blink.

  She grabbed the sword he swung at her neck and yanked it from his grip. Her hand wrapped around his throat, and she squeezed until his legs buckled.

  Maeve made a strangled noise.

  “Enough.” My voice was a whisper. I can’t watch another die. I knew Kian. I desperately wanted him to live a long life. I felt his faith in me, and needed to be worthy of it. I lifted off my hands onto my knees. “Marinette. Stop.”

  “It hurts doesn’t it?” She loomed in the centre of her creatures. “When an acolyte dies it burns. Drains you of strength and will. I’ve lost thousands of worshipers. Now you know how it feels to hear their cries and be unable to wield your fury to avenge them.”

  Marinette dragged Kian’s sword across his throat.

  For a precious moment, it appeared she spared him. His flesh was whole, and his eyes round with astonishment.

  The fairy Knights fighting their way to the river cried out in a jumbled fusion of alarm and shock.

  I sagged in relief.

  A suspended heartbeat later, Kian’s gaze locked with mine. My breathing hitched. I saw past his bewilderment to the truth.

  Those lovely eyes dimmed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Rae

  Kian’s throat peeled apart and gaped wide. Red drenched his chest.

  Starbursts of pain exploded throughout my body. Slumping, I stifled a moan. I scrubbed my chest harder as a heavy ache besieged me.

  Marinette’s breathing deepened. “I want you to feel his devotion leech from your veins. Feel it.” Hot blood flowed. Her hands were slippery with it. “Choke on it.” She licked her lips, then a fingertip, which she extended to me. “Taste it.” Marinette discarded Kian’s remains. She grinned at the demons gathering around us. “Does another hero seeking to end me?” She wriggled her fingers at the sprawled body. “I mean to make this corpse the base of a mountain. Come. Amuse me with your bravery and I’ll make it swift.”

  Do something. Any moment her mad whims could fix on the heart of my power, Breandan, who stared into the distance mumbling. I didn’t want to draw needless attention to him, but I couldn’t watch her freely take life. Do something.

  The truth locked me to immobility.

  Marinette was too strong.

  Then become stronger.

  I tried to remember alternate outcomes where Marinette died, and I survived our struggle. No matter what I recalled the answer remained constant.

  I need Breandan.

  Having the strength to defeat evil single-handed was the dream of many warriors. I didn’t aspire to be an untouchable hero. The bravery Kalcifer, Amelia and Kian showed humbled me, but I felt no shame needing my antithesis, the male to my female, death to my life to feel whole and able to vanquish my enemy.

  Inhale. Blink. Exhale.

  Life mattered. Preserving it at all costs was a worthy cause, but I defended it for love.

  Do something.

  “I remember the first time I saw you.” Maeve lay next to me curled on her side. She looked oddly calm. “I thought I was going to die. Then I heard a noise and saw you, golden eyes peering through the leaves. You looked so frightened.” Her face creased. “I was meant to die. I didn’t. As they tortured me I knew you’d find me. Fate took me, so you brought me back. Saved me again and gave me a gift.” Her fingers grazed the amulets nestled on her chest. Her lip wobbled. “I’m on borrowed time.”

  Overwrought, I shook my head to clear the haze. I wanted to say something kind to give her courage. I know what it’s like to face your own death. “Eve–”

  “I am the issue of a Warrior. My brothers are War Lords. My mother was a Battle Maiden blessed with a glorious death protecting her Tribe. I will do this.” She gave me a stern look. “Understand I was hard on you because I love you, sister. Take care of Breandan. Watch over Alec.”

  Maeve staggered up and unhooked the bow from around her back. She tossed it. Unbuckling the leather strap across her chest with shaky hands, her arrow quiver followed. She took a step then spun. She searched the shifters on her side of the bank before her gaze skipped across the river.

  Alec prowled on the other side.

  Tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

  Snarling, Alec jumped into the churning water.

  I scanned the mêlée for my Familiar. I just about wept in r
elief to spot the tenacious shifter shuffling in my direction. “Baako.” I stabbed a finger at Alec who paddled doggedly against the current. “Get him out of here.”

  He hesitated, and I scorched the ground beneath his paws forcing him to hobble towards the water.

  Baako used his hefty mass to corral a wet and exhausted Alec towards the restless werecats gathered down the bank.

  Their Alpha’s suffering pulled the shifters to the heart of the conflict.

  Marinette eyed the advancing fairy with unrestrained glee. She waved aside her wolven guard. “Few escape my grasp. None return to face me once they have.”

  As Maeve passed Kian’s body, she knelt and stroked closed his staring eyes. Lifting her chin, she stood with cool regal and gilded on. “You’re not the first to underestimate me, so before I lose my nerve….”

  Maeve hauled back and slapped her across the face. The smack was full-bodied, her whole palm making contact.

  The godling’s head cracked to the side with an ear-splitting thwack.

  Patting her scarlet cheek, Marinette cackled. “Such a fiery temper. They took you lightly? I’m surprised they dared condescend.”

  Maeve shook out her hand, lips thinned to a waxen slash of victor’s determination. “I will overlook my usual vexation if you do one thing.”

  “A final wish?” Marinette grinned nastily. “I feel gracious. My prey seldom lives long enough to beg such a request.”

  Maeve grabbed the godling and wrapped around her. Thrusting her face into Marinette’s, she hissed. “Feel it.”

  The amulets burned white-hot between them then exploded in a blinding curve of light.

  Screaming, Breandan tore at his face.

  A mangled clump of dull metal sank into the mud.

  Dazed and staggering a circle, Marinette’s hands failed to cover the fist-sized hole where her heart should beat.

  She toppled over and landed face first on the dirty bank.

  The riled shifters pounced on the werewolves and tore them to pieces.