by D. N. Hoxa
And then my feet touched ground again.
My whole body shook as I finally drew in air. My legs threatened to give out, but I refused to let go. I kept my head down for a couple of minutes until I no longer felt like the world was spinning fast around me.
When the shaking stopped and I could breath close to normal again, I stood straight, still a bit dizzy.
“So silly of me not to tell you to keep your eyes closed and hold your breath. I am very sorry,” Kyahen said a second later. I would’ve strangled him with my bare hands if he were anybody else. Instead, I smiled, because there was nothing else I could do.
“Apology accepted. Don't worry about it, Kyahen. I’ve been through worse, and I’m still standing.” His smile faltered, but he composed himself quickly.
With a raised brow, he looked around us at Aaron, his father, and Arturo. All three of them were still on the ground, trying to recover from the aftermath of the transportation. The three nymphs stood there looking passively at them, as tall and as beautiful as ever.
“Our work here is done,” Kyahen said. “Star,” he slightly bowed his head to me, “until next time.”
“Until next time,” I said, and before the words had even left my lips, he disappeared together with his fairies.
As the guys recovered, I looked at where Kyahen had dropped us, though the complete darkness didn’t let me see any details. We were in some sort of a yard. There was grass beneath our feet and a couple of trees here and there inside a wooden fence that went all around what looked like a giant, three-story house in front of us.
I started forward to the house immediately. Time was not on our side, and I needed to get my hands on Illyon before whoever it was that was going to relocate it, arrived.
“Where are we?”Arturo asked. Good to know they’d finally recovered.
“No idea.” But we would figure it out soon enough.
We walked for a couple of minutes as I stretched my senses far and beyond to look for some supernatural energy.
Finally, I saw the end of the fence. We were in what looked like an inn. The name on the front said Rosewood. There was a security guard at the entrance, who almost shat himself when he saw us coming out. His hand was on his holster, but I doubted he had a gun. More like pepper spray, probably.
“May I help you?” The guy said with a heavy Spanish accent when we approached him.
“Maybe,” I said. “We’re tourists, looking for Cathedral Basilico?”
“I didn't see you come in here,” the guard said as he analyzed the three guys behind me.
“That’s ‘cause we came in early. You weren’t here. Can you help us or not?” I didn’t care if he believed me or not. We really needed to be on our way.
“Why would you want to go to the Cathedral at this time of the night?” he said, raising his brow. My impatience was growing very thin.
“Because we’re leaving in the morning and our friends said that we shouldn't leave without seeing it,” Aaron cut in from behind me.
The guard took his damn sweet time. I analyzed his face and tried to decide if knocking him unconscious right then and there would save us time or waste it. We did need to know which way to take…
“You shouldn’t. It is a very beautiful Cathedral.” There. No need to knock anyone unconscious. The guard finally smiled. “Follow me. I’ll show you the way.” When we reached the main street right outside the iron gates of the inn, the guard pointed left. “Go straight this way, and then take a right. The Cathedral de Basilico will be right in front of you.”
He also was kind enough to warn us that the streets were dangerous at that time of the night, and he suggested we be careful, especially with our wallets. But, we did manage to be on our way eventually.
“We’re going in a church?” Aaron asked. He sounded a bit panicked, too.
“Cathedral,” I said. “Why?”
For the first time in…ever, fear flashed in Aaron’s eyes. That was weird. Aaron was never scared.
Or maybe it was the night playing tricks on me.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, then turned to look at his father, who also had his eyes on him.
I couldn't even begin to imagine what the hell that was or why Aaron would freak out because we were going to a Cathedral. Good thing I didn’t need to, because soon enough, I started to get the unusual feeling. My skin was being pierced with small needles all over and fast, and my senses sharpened.
Supernaturals—other than us—were in the area.
“We’re almost there,” I told the others, “and the place looks packed.”
There seemed to be at least half a dozen sups in the building, according to my senses. Just like Eleanor said. I pushed the worry away. Thinking negatively wasn’t going to get me anywhere, but it was damn hard to store hope in my chest when we reached the Cathedral.
It was breathtakingly beautiful. Huge, too, and the stone cross on top of it made it look like the building had come straight out of a horror movie. Didn’t help the situation at all, so I told them the plan instead of panicking.
“I will take the main entrance. The doors are probably open. I need them to think that I am alone. So while I make my way inside, I want you three to go around and take the back entrance. It’s important that you be very silent and careful and step in only after the fighting starts—not a second earlier. We need the element of surprise.”
Thomas and Arturo nodded. Aaron didn’t.
“I can't go in there.”
I must’ve been hearing things, so I turned to look at him, my brows narrowed in question. Aaron looked like he wanted to get out of his own skin.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, I can't go in there.” Oh, my God, I’d been right. Aaron was scared!
“What do you mean, you can't go in there? You can't or you won’t?” He was looking everywhere but at me.
“I can’t,” he mumbled, with a disgusted look on his face. “I can't step in there.”
I analyzed his face again. He no longer looked scared; he looked exasperated. What could possibly stop a shifter from going into a Cathedral?
“What are you, a fairy or something?” I mumbled, a dumbfounded smile on my face. Because if that were the case, he could’ve just asked for us to invite him. But Aaron shook his head.
“You know I’m not.” I would’ve probably felt him if he were.
Curiosity was killing me, but the clock was ticking. I promised myself a talk with him after all of this was over, and I swore I would not let him get away without telling me what he was, other than a shifter. For that moment, I let it go.
“Keep watch in the front,” I said, and suddenly, Aaron looked like he wanted to actually cry. I turned to Arturo and Thomas. “I don't have to tell you how important it is that we get that book. It could help us win this, even without a war.” We didn’t know for sure, but it was a possibility.
For the first time since I’d met him, Thomas looked at me without fear or hatred in his eyes. He looked at me like I was his equal—a Red Rebel. His partner in a fight. And that’s exactly who I was.
“Be careful in there,” I whispered, and I wanted to say something more—anything more—but I didn’t know what. I wasn’t used to going into a fight with other people. So I just turned around and made for the entrance to the Cathedral’s front yard. Aaron would be alone, but I wasn’t worried about him. There would be no fighting on the outside.
I inhaled deeply, became one with the shadows and cautiously headed for the building’s double doors. My whole being became ears, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing. I had to rely solely on my senses, which told me that there were seven supernaturals inside. They weren’t even trying to hide their powers. They probably didn’t think they needed to, which only meant they weren’t expecting company. Good for us.
I held my breath and went for the iron handle. The door opened with a small cracking sound, and I froze in place for a second. I’d never gone in a building like that before. I felt co
mpletely blinded without the blueprint memorized in detail in my mind. But I had to take what I could get. So I exhaled silently, and I stepped inside.
The place was dark. The dim light coming from the colorful windows barely exposed a long room with a very high ceiling. Wooden pews on both sides took up half the space. What looked like flags of different colors hung from the triangle-shaped ceiling to the middle of the room.
“Finally.”
The voice reached my ears in an echo. Whoever had spoken, he was far away from me. Probably on the other side.
I held my breath and didn't move a single muscle.
Then, one after the other, small lamps around the walls came to life and bathed the giant space of the inside in light. At the very end of the room, the wooden wall was filled with paintings of Saints. In the middle of the room, there was what looked like a stone fountain, and I could sense water in it. Then, there was another set of pews that ended in a wooden pulpit two stairs up.
Sitting there was Elijah Jespersen.
The guy was a Council member. I'd never seen him outside the fifth dimension before. He was an Unseelie Fey. Very powerful. He had dark eyes and hair, colorless skin, and the glow that normally emanated from it was gone—hidden by his glamour.
“Long time no see, Raven.” In his voice, I could hear the sick smile he always had on his face.
In front of the first pews across from Jespersen stood six Royal Guards, three on each side in front of him. I knew only two of them. The others were probably new.
“Surprised to find you here, Jespersen.” It wasn’t even a lie. Who would have thought? The Council’s very own member out there in the mortal realm to meet me? I felt special already.
“I'm sure you are.” He stood up. “I believe you’re here for this,” he said and pointed at the table next to him. My heart skipped a long beat at the sight of it.
Illyon. It was right there!
To my surprise, it looked exactly like a book, but it gave off energy like it was a living, breathing thing—like it was a supernatural, the strongest, most confusing one I’d ever felt. Its brown leather cover glistened under the light. It was right there, just waiting for me.
Jespersen’s loud laugh invited my eyes to him again.
“Did you really believe that you were going to get your hands on Illyon tonight? Or ever?”
His laughter rang uncomfortably in my ears. I started to take slow steps towards them and contemplated the best course of action.
The two Royals I knew were strong, but my will was stronger. As was my motivation. I had to get the book. I would die before I would let it escape from me after being in the same room with it. I had Bob in one hand and a katana in the other. The water from the fountain gave me some reassurance, too, as I stopped ten feet away from the Royals and Jespersen.
“Feeling brave tonight, aren't we?” the fairy mocked with another laugh. He looked like he couldn't contain his joy. His dark eyes glowed with it.
“Give me the book, Jespersen,” I said only because, if someone asked tomorrow, I could swear that I asked nicely at first.
Jespersen erupted into yet another, louder laughter. I smiled my evil smile at him.
He dropped into his chair again. “No.”
After that, I had only a second to prepare. Two of the new Royals came at me at the same time. One was a werewolf and the other a Nephil—both the same height, possibly younger than thirty. I jumped with one foot on the pew to my right and landed behind their backs so fast, they didn't have time to realize what had happened before my katana made a clean cut right through their necks.
They dropped to the ground, headless.
I heard the other four Royals behind me before I even turned. I dropped down on my knees and swung my katana behind me. I cut little. Blood red pain began in the middle of my back as someone kicked the hell out of me. I turned and sliced an arm with Bob, then kicked a Royal in the gut with my foot, and dodged a knife aiming for my throat. Someone hit me in the chest before I could completely stand straight again. I felt the skin on my left arm give in to the tip of a sharp knife before I put Bob into the Royal’s throat.
Adrenaline made the blood rush faster and faster in my veins. My heart was beating loud and fast with excitement. I caught details as the vision in front of me slowed, and I could see everything as if it were happening in slow motion. My best weapon yet—though I never really knew how I had it.
I hit one Royal in the face with my elbow as I pulled Bob back from the other’s throat, and I pushed my katana in his gut.
Pain echoed through my entire body from the back of my neck, making my teeth chatter. Only one of the remaining Royals was down so far. The adrenaline eased the pain I’d no doubt feel when all of this was over—if I was still alive by then. But for that second, I counted on it to erase the pain of the giant fist on my face.
I was hit and kicked constantly, but I returned all their favors. I grabbed a warlock by his collarbone and gripped it tightly, paralyzing the left side of the body. The next second, my feet were no longer touching the ground. The energy that was coming from the Royal in front of me covered my arms in goose bumps. He was levitating me. His energy was strong enough to float my whole body—which was much harder to do than it sounded, or so I’d been told. His lips moved only slightly as he chanted the spell that unleashed his magic, and he watched me like I was the center of his universe.
Another Royal caught me by the ankle and nearly froze my whole leg. Good thing, too, since he broke the warlock’s concentration. I fell, and my frozen leg gave. It almost broke, too, right at the knee. But the warlock had me by the hair so he unknowingly saved me a whole lot of pain, right before I put Bob through his heart. Sorry.
I caught a glimpse of Jespersen getting up from his chair, and would you look at that? He didn't look like he wanted to laugh anymore. But he was making his way toward me, and that wasn't good. If he fought me together with the remaining Royals, my chances were going to slim down considerably. Shit. The spicy sense of fear stung in my gut, but I pushed the thought away immediately. I couldn't afford to lose faith, even though Jespersen was only four feet away now. And he had a katana in his hand.
I concentrated on the two Royals in front of me before I could start to lose it. One sup at a time.
I sliced one guard’s hand until Bob’s tip touched bone, and I pushed my elbow up, catching the other’s chin. His head flew up for a split second, long enough to give me an opening to his gut. My katana slid in it easily, and then I realized what he was.
Damn Nephilim. They didn't die easy.
The other Royal— this one a shifter—had his fist ready and aiming for my jaw, but I dodged in the last second and caught him with my foot on his chin instead.
That pissed him off. Majorly. Why else would a shifter as young as he was—as inexperienced as he was—decide to willingly lose control of his body and actually shift?
Shifters didn’t do it often. They never let out their animals, and there was a reason for that. A strong one: a very small number of them could actually control their animal’s mind and body.
The wolf that now stood in front of me on all fours growled. Shit. This was not good. He wasn’t completely formed, either. I bent my knees and waited for him to jump me, but…he never did.
Instead, he cried out as something dragged him from behind. Thomas. And Arturo was right next to him, fighting the only other remaining Royal, who was also a Nephil.
I didn’t even have time to feel relieved that they’d made it—and perfect timing, too—because sharp iron sliced a clean line right below my breasts. Jespersen’s smiling face was right in front of me. The pain almost made me double over. The cut had been deep, but I resisted my body’s urge and met Jespersen’s katana with mine just a couple inches before his went through my neck.
He grabbed my wrist, and I grabbed his. Raw cold washed over me, and he smiled, his face right in front of mine, our noses almost touching. Pain forgotten as I saw my refl
ection in his pitch black eyes, I smiled my evil smile—this one just for him.
Let’s dance, filthy fairy.
And we did.
I was cut in more places than I had ever been before, and every single cell in my body screamed in pain. The things I’d been through in Lyndor though, all the pain and the tortures, had apparently not gone to waste because though it was hard, I managed to ignore my own body, just as I had back then.
We moved and jumped on the pews every now and then, and Bob’s blade tasted Jespersen’s blood and flesh more than once. He was definitely not laughing anymore, but neither was I.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the others fighting in the background, but I couldn’t spare a proper look to confirm that they were okay. Jespersen jumped back, and I followed, never taking my eyes off him. I sliced his thigh with my katana and got a breathtaking blow on the stomach as payback. We fought for what felt like hours, and I had to admit that he was the most worthy opponent I had ever had the pleasure of fighting in all my life. He moved just as fast as I did, and his hits were very precise. His perfect face of pure evil made him look like a freaking death angel that threatened to send running whoever was the subject of his attention. Good thing evil leaked through my own pores, too. And I never gave up—not just because I’d learned that in Lyndor.
I caught him with my foot in his chest, and I put all of my weight behind it. His katana slipped from his fingers, and he jumped at least three steps on air. He landed on the table, breaking it to pieces with his body. Illyon fell on the floor.
“Now we’re talking!” Jespersen shouted like a lunatic when he jumped to his feet again. And when he ran as fast as lightning at me, I was ready. I jumped up, and I caught him in the face with another kick before I spun around. But his foot was on my ass before I could land on my feet. I flew forward and hit the floor a couple of feet away on my stomach. I jumped up immediately, ignoring the stabs of pain yet again. If I got out of there alive, which, as much as I hated to admit it, was a possibility that shrunk by the second, I’d have more than enough time for it.