Hunted (The Guardian Legacy, #3)

by Ednah Walters

  Solange wasn’t going anywhere. The trick was to find her before Raphael found me.

  Remember, don’t let them inside your heads, Grampa’s voice rang in my head, but I knew he was reminding all Guardians to have reruns of their happiest moments. It also meant minimal telepathic communication. The archangels could use the link to get inside heads.

  Heart pounding, I tried to find Grampa. The archangels had a glow around them, which helped pinpoint their locations. Bran and the other flyers were in the air, battling several of them. I counted at least a dozen more hacking down demons and Guardians like they were weeds, not caring who they killed.

  Screams of death filled the air, the demons’ burning bodies mixing with flashes of light as Guardians died. How many would ascend? Or were they doomed to end up in Tartarus because they had gone against the archangels?

  I spied Solange drifting toward the ballroom. I teleported after her, delaying my reappearance until I saw her aura. She wasn’t alone.

  There’s a secret passage behind this wall, she telepathed her partner. We can use it to avoid the archangels’ shield.

  Are sure you have the right dagger? someone asked.

  I recognized the voice of the old man who’d begged me to help my father.

  Yes. See? The pure energy of the Kris Dagger appeared as Solange pulled it out of the bag with demonic writings. I locked on it and willed it to fly to my hand as I rematerialized.

  Solange and her friend whipped around, but the dagger was already bonding with me, the writings appearing like slithering snakes on the blade. In the darkness, my skin glowed, the writing coiling and gliding. I didn’t have to look in the mirror to know my eyes were glowing too.

  “I told you, the dagger belongs to me,” I snarled in a voice I didn’t recognize.

  “Lilith, your father—”

  The old man didn’t finish his words. A thud came from behind me and I whipped around. Raphael. He couldn’t even give me a moment to savor outsmarting my evil sister. Big sparkly wings outstretched, cold eyes narrowed, he sauntered toward us like he knew he had already won.

  Mewling sounds came from behind me. I turned to find Solange and the older demon on their knees, gripping their heads. Then they dropped like sacks of potatoes. Call for backup, the irrational part of my brain screamed, but telepathy wasn’t an option. Besides, I had trained to take this bastard down.

  Instead of panic, an eerie calmness settled on me. I assumed a fighting stance and waved the dagger. Compared to his sword, which he hadn’t bothered to draw, my weapon was puny, but it glowed with the brilliance of stars.

  “So, how do you want to play this?” I said, going for cocky and liking how calm and confident I sounded. “My head on the guillotine?”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes. “That would be nice, but since we don’t have one, why not just come with me?”

  I laughed. “Right. Like, I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

  He scowled. “I’m trying to avoid fighting you, Lilith.”

  “Why? Scared?”

  “If you give up, my warriors will stop killing yours.”

  I considered the offer for about a second. “Sorry, but if I die, and that is a big if, I want to go down like a Cardinal Guardian. Fighting.”

  “Silly girl.” He pulled out his sword. It was huge, light bouncing off its blade like stars. He moved closer. I shuffled backward, searching for an opportunity.

  “Do you think you stand a chance against me?”

  “Hmm, let me think. Me and my dagger against your sword and those deadly wings, I think we are about even.”

  He moved so fast, the sword arcing toward my neck before I raised my dagger. I barely managed to teleport out of the way.

  “Do you know how many battles I’ve waged this millennium alone?” he asked.

  “If you feel you have to brag…”

  He rushed me again, moving so fast he was blurry, but I was ready. I pointed the dagger and blasted him. The force propelled him backwards, the look of utter disbelief on his face comical.

  I grinned. “You thought you neutralized the only weapon that can send you back home.”

  Lightning bolts shot from somewhere near him and singed the air as they raced toward me. I battled bolts with bolts, causing the room to light up like fireworks. Temporarily blinded, I felt rather than saw him move and teleported. Slowing down, I watched him move around in circles, searching for me. It wouldn’t be long before he sensed my energy.

  I rematerialized behind him and brought the dagger down on his back, aiming for the base of his right wing. The dagger cut deep. Instead of blood, light poured out of the wound, blinding me.

  Next thing I knew, his other wing slammed into me like a ton of bricks and sent me flying across the room. I hit the table, pain radiating up my side. I scrambled to my feet and searched for my dagger.

  “You dared to cut my wing?” he bellowed.

  Where was my dagger?

  He closed in on me. I zapped him with bolts of lightning but they bounced off him like ping-pong balls off a table. He had a shield protecting him. Now, Goddess. If I’m meant to be your vessel, use me now.

  Instead of the Goddess, Remy appeared beside me and shoved a sword into my hand.

  “Find Grampa,” I told him.

  “No, I’m not leaving you with him.”

  Raphael swung his sword wide arc and brought it down fast. Remy blocked and turned, but the archangel had already disengaged his blade and attacked again. I came at him from the other side, but he was fast and a better fighter than both of us put together. Nothing we did seemed to slow him down. In fact, I had a feeling he was toying with us.

  Remy swore. “Damn, he moves like…,”

  “A dancer,” I griped.

  “Like his sword is a freaking extension of his arm,” Remy said.

  “Starting the party without me?” Sykes asked, appearing behind the archangel.

  Raphael smiled without looking his way. It was a cold smile. Cruel. Mean. “No, waiting so I can to dispatch all of you to Tartarus with one blow.”

  “We don’t go to Tartarus, bonehead,” Sykes said.

  While Remy kept him busy, his sword changing shape every few seconds, I slammed the archangel’s right side with lightning bolts while Sykes pelted him from the other side with energy balls. The bolts and energy balls didn’t hurt him, and I realized why. His wings were wrapped tight around him and acted like a shield. They were protecting him.

  Remy noticed too and upped the ante of the attack, hoping to give me an opening, but he miscalculated. Raphael turned, his injured wing slanting at a weird angle. The tips caught Remy across the chest and he went down, bleeding.

  Remy! I yelled, becoming distracted. I felt rather than saw the wing move toward me. It caught me across my arm before I teleported out of the way, leaving behind a nasty wound.

  Pissed, I telekinetically lifted Remy’s sword and mine and continued to attack Raphael. At the same time, I tried to zap him again. He redirected my lightning bolt toward Sykes. The force threw Sykes across the room, where he hit the wall and came crashing down with a sickening thud. If the fall hadn’t kill him, I was afraid that the burn from the light had.

  “If you killed them…,” I warned, lifting my hands.

  “It will be your fault,” Raphael said. “I gave you an offer, which you turned down. Now, it’s just you and me. No more of your friends to distract me.”

  “That’s where you are wrong, Raphael,” Grampa said from the doorway and he wasn’t alone. Bran was beside him. Both of them had bruises on their faces and torn coats. “It’s over. Stand down.”

  “I have my orders,” Raphael said.

  “We’re summoning the Tribunal. You and your warriors must stand down.”

  “Until I receive different orders…”

  Grampa and Bran teleported at the same time. They reappeared behind Raphael, each of them grabbing a wing. Raphael tried to shake them off, his wings whipping up and
down, left and right, but his injured wing slowed him down.

  “Now, Lil,” Grampa yelled.

  I willed all my power, mine and the Kris Dagger’s, from deep inside me. Heat rose and suffused my body. My body tingled and started to glow. Not just my arms. My whole body. I raised my arms, redirecting the powers. Above the glow, my eyes met Raphael’s. He couldn’t protect himself with his wings trapped. Fury distorted his flawless face as a flood of bright light shot out of my hand and hit him square in the chest.

  “You are going to wish you agreed to our deal, young Guardian,” the archangel bellowed just before he exploded.

  The force flung me across the room. Disoriented, my ears ringing, I just lay there, waiting for my breathing to slow down, wondering how many bones I’d broken. My body felt like I’d been stepped on by an elephant.

  Slowly, the pain ebbed. Were Grampa and Bran okay?

  I turned my head and saw Bran getting up, his back feathers singed and reduced to stubs. Grampa, already standing, offered him a hand, and the two walked toward me. The lights were back on, the broken bulbs repaired. Way to go, Earth Guardians.

  I sat up and grinned. It was over. We had won.

  “Stop whining. You’ll both be fine,” Cardinal Hsia’s voice reached me and I turned.

  She held a hand over Remy, sparks leaping from her palm to his chest, and the other over Sykes. Remy was busy grimacing at the gaping wound on his chest, but Sykes smirked when our gazes connected. I looked at his chest and my stomach roiled. His entire upper torso had deep burns. It was hard to tell where his singed clothes ended and his charred skin began. Still, I was relieved they were okay. I looked at my arm. The wound inflicted by the archangel’s wing was already healed.

  How many Guardians had survived?

  “They’re not going anywhere,” Izzy said, and once again I turned and sighed with relief. Her face and hair were a mess, but she didn’t appear injured. Then again, as a healer, she self-healed faster than most Guardians. She and Solaris were setting crystals around Solange and her minion. “You can interrogate them now.”

  “Are you okay?” Grampa asked.

  I stood and hugged him tight, tears stinging my eyes. Bran gripped my hand, his emerald eyes searching my face for visible signs of pain or maybe he was worried about the archangel’s threat. Raphael’s words still rang in my ears, but I didn’t want to think about them. We’d won, and that was all that mattered.

  “Are we really going to summon the Tribunal?” I asked.

  Grampa stepped back and patted my cheek. “We have to, because Raphael will keep this up until he accomplishes his mission.”

  “Which means he’ll bring back more archangels,” I said, feeling tired just thinking about fighting him again. We had barely managed to send him and his tribe home.

  Grampa nodded. “And we’ll keep fighting them. You did great tonight, but you should have contacted us as soon as Raphael cornered you. We were searching for you when we heard his bellow.” Grampa shook his head and chuckled. “You nearly chopped off one of his wings.”

  Nearly wasn’t good enough. “What happened to his warriors?”

  “We clipped a few wings, injured some.”

  “How many did we lose? Will they ascend?”

  Grampa’s expression grew sober. “Quite a few, mostly SGs, a few Cardinals. And yes, they will ascend, but we are more united now than we’ve ever been. Guardians. Demons. Neutrals. All fighting to protect you. When the archangels come back, we’ll be ready for them. In the meantime, help your friends, then join us. We must start the summoning. Solaris, we’ll get all the information from those two later.” Grampa teleported.

  Left with Bran, I studied the bruises on his face, his wings. I reached up and touched the cut on his forehead. The bruised skin disappeared.

  “Your wings,” I mumbled, touching a stubby feather. It slowly filled out.

  He gripped my hand, then placed it on his cheek, his gaze on my face. “My wings will be okay. Why didn’t you telepath me when he attacked?”

  “You were busy and I didn’t want you distracted.”

  “Come on, Lil,” Cardinal Hsia called out. “We are only four healers and there are many Guardians with more serious injuries than Bran. Finish with these two. Izzy, come with me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “We just sent an archangel and his warriors home,” I whispered. “You’d think we’d have a hero’s moment.”

  Bran laughed, cupped my face and gave me a sweet, but oh so brief kiss. “We’ll have our moment after this. What deal was Raphael talking about?” he asked as we walked toward the others.

  “He’d asked me to surrender and his warriors would spare the Guardians. Maybe I should have.”

  “You heard your grandfather; they’ll ascend, and we are more united than before. Tonight we fought as Nephilim against a common enemy. The Brotherhood, Dante and his nature-bender friends, Lottius and her demons were all united because of you.”

  And so many were dead too, because of me. “But when the archangels come back—”

  “We will fight them again. No one is surrendering. Where’s your dagger?”

  I looked around. “It’s in here somewhere, but it’s only active when I touch it.”

  “I’ll find it.” Bran ran his knuckles along my jaw. “Don’t ever think of surrendering. You wouldn’t want to leave me behind, would you?”

  No, I wouldn’t. I turned and hurried to Remy and Sykes’s side.

  “What deal is Bran talking about?” Remy asked.

  I explained Raphael’s offer.

  “Self-righteous prick,” Sykes muttered. “Doesn’t he know our motto?”

  “We have a motto?” I asked, placing my hands on their wounds.

  “Yeah. ‘Live, Love, and Die in Glory’, meaning live and love like it’s your last time and if you’re going down, take as many douchebags with you as possible. And I’m not talking about demons. Archangels just replaced demons at the top of the ‘douchebags’ list.”

  Remy chuckled. “That’s a good one.”

  They bumped fists. Remy’s wound had already closed up. His torn shirt and coat repaired themselves and the blood that had caked them floated away. Sykes’ burns had disappeared too, leaving behind his singed shirt.

  “Want me to fix that?” Remy asked.

  “Nah, this is a collector’s item.” Sykes hopped to his feet. “I’ll donate it to the Xenithian museum. The title will read,” he pretended to read a headline, “‘Superior Cardinal Energy Guardian Triumphs Over Inferior Angelic Fire’.”

  “Mouthy,” Bran said. He had found my dagger.

  “Works for me, bro. You could even sell a few of your stubby feathers. Do you guys realize we just made history? We can even rewrite the Guardian history. Does anyone know how the seniors found us?” Sykes asked

  “Lucien,” Izzy answered, having reappeared beside us without our knowledge. “He went straight to Master Haziel after dropping off the Specials,” she said impatiently. “The summoning has started and the seniors want you guys center stage. Lil, Master Haziel wants to see you first.”

  “He’s here?”

  “Of course. Come on.” She grabbed my arm just as a murmur filled the air. “Tribunal…tribunal…tribunal…”

  We hurried toward the hall as the chant rose and increased in intensity. Hundreds of voices raised, demanding to be heard. “Tribunal…tribunal… tribunal…”

  Then there was silence.

  I stepped over broken furniture and shards of glass. Scorch marks spotted the carpet and walls, telltale signs of energy balls and dead demons. Guardians and demons stood on opposite sides of the room. I followed their gazes and frowned. There was nothing up there. Where was the Tribunal?

  “This way,” Izzy said, dragging me away from the gathering and toward the area under the stairs.

  “But the Tribunal…?” My voice trailed off when I noticed Dante. He stood apart from everyone, his expression furious. He wasn’t staring up. “Dante?”
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  He looked at me as though he didn’t recognize me. A bad feeling washed over me. “Where’s Kael?”

  “He’s gone.” Dante’s voice was rough.

  “Gone where…no,” I shook my head, tears rushing to my eyes. “Not Kael.”

  “He died with honor, fighting for what he believed in—you,” Dante said harshly.

  I saw through his harshness to the pain. It was so deep and vast, so heart-wrenching. I closed the gap between us. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  It was. Every life lost tonight was on me. Dante stiffened when I touched his arm, and I wasn’t sure whether he feared I might burn him again or he just didn’t want my touch. Demons weren’t big on hugs, but it didn’t matter. I wrapped my arms around him, pressed my cheek against his broad chest and squeezed. He stood there stiff as a board, his pain increasing instead of lessening.

  “I’m so sorry. I wish I could bring him back for you,” I whispered.

  He didn’t relax, but he patted my back. “Enough with that. Go. The Guardians need you.”

  I stepped back, my hands dropping to my side, and searched his face. There was so much pain and rage. “I don’t want you to be alone, Dante. Join us. I mean, come live with us. You don’t even have to be a Guardian. You can be Neutral or whatever.”

  The look he gave me was unreadable. “I can’t do that, Lilith. I must avenge his death.”

  Of course. “Which archangel killed him? Raphael? I will fight with you and together we will clip his wings.”

  “No. He was betrayed by one of us.”

  Guardian or demon? “Who?”

  He shook his head. “You’ll have enough to deal with in the coming months and don’t need to worry about this. This vengeance will be mine.”

  “But will I see you again?”

  “We will meet again, Lilith. This is just the beginning.” He bowed and pressed a fist to his left chest, then teleported.

  The beginning of what? My suffering. No matter what anybody said, the archangels had come for me, not the others. Yet I was still alive and they were gone. Kael would end up in Tartarus, where the other demons would probably get high on torturing him because of me. If Raphael’s offer was still open when he came back, I was taking it and stopping these endless sacrifices.