Sacred Light (Armor of Magic Book 1)

by Simone Pond

  Julian and I stood back-to-back, swinging at any creature foolish enough to get too close to us.

  “Anything else this suit does?” Julian yelled over the clamor.

  “Not that I know of,” I shouted, glancing over my shoulder.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed the black case still perched on the baby grand—something was glowing inside it. Whatever it was had a similar glow to our Armor; something that belonged to the Light and not Cagliostro. Pulling Julian with me, I edged closer to the case to get a better look.

  As I had thought, inside the case sat one of the Sacred Scrolls. I’d recognize that luminescent tube anywhere; I had seen it my dream so many times, the one my mother held as she staggered across the barren desert toward the angel. The one my parents had been protecting before Cagliostro ambushed the angel. But why was there only one? I was told two had gone missing.

  “What is it?” Julian asked.

  “One of the Scrolls,” I whispered, fearing Cagliostro would hear me before I had time to reach over and snatch up the case.

  Fortunately, he didn’t. But retrieving the Scroll meant I’d have to release my shield, because I wasn’t about to drop my sword. I let it go and grabbed the case, slamming the lid and clutching it under my arm next to my breastplate. Just then, a blast of scalding hot fire pummeled against my back and penetrated my skin like lava. The pain ripped through my nerves with such acid intensity that I dropped to the ground, howling in agony. I looked up just as Cagliostro was whirling another ball of liquid fire toward us. I yanked Julian’s leg, and he knelt down holding his shield over us. His hand turned fiery orange from the heat, causing him to release the shield; we were exposed to every single demon, shifter and evil son-of-a-hellhound.

  I grabbed Julian’s hand, and we dashed across the court and positioned ourselves behind Cagliostro.

  “Stop this now!” I ordered.

  My voice reached decibels I had never thought possible, breaking sound barriers and reverberating throughout the entire hotel and beyond.

  “Didn’t know about that little trick,” Julian said, rubbing his ear.

  I had forgotten about it myself—something I had done at the warehouse. Another thing I’d have to add to the list of questions for Ezra.

  Cagliostro held up his hand, instructing the factions to stop attacking. He turned toward me, still holding poor Charlotte by the neck. His fingers dug into her skin, causing streams of blood to trickle down her throat. I wanted to take my sword and lob off his head, but I held my composure for Charlotte’s sake.

  “Looks like we both have something the other wants,” Cagliostro said.

  I remained silent because he had me by the proverbial balls. If I didn’t give him the Scroll, he’d kill Charlotte, and if I gave him the Scroll, he’d be able to keep and further unlock its powers. I’d be failing my job as a Protector of Light. I couldn’t fathom a shittier choice to have to make.

  “How about I sweeten the deal?” he said.

  “You might as well let her go. You can’t win this one.” The asshole could’ve easily won, but I needed to stall for time.

  “Let’s say you hand over the Scroll in exchange for Charlotte and your parents’ freedom, with the promise that neither me nor the Shadow Order will ever bother you again.”

  His glowing eyes were transfixing, and I had to admit it started to sound like a pretty sweet deal—saving my best friend, getting my parents back, and never having to deal with the Shadow Order ever again. We could go back to the good old days when we’d sit around on Sunday morning reading our sections of the newspaper and sipping coffee. I could invite them over to my partially-remodeled house for dinners once a week. Life could be blissfully normal, without any more supernatural distractions. Didn’t I want a normal life?

  Wait. What the…?

  No.

  I handed the case to Julian and slowly approached Cagliostro. “I might be rash enough to show up at a blood sacrifice with me on the menu, but I don’t make deals with demonic mages!” Something stirred inside me. Maybe it was adrenaline or an inkling of honor for being a Protector of Light; either way, I continued with my corny speech. “This isn’t about me. It’s about my responsibility. The Scroll doesn’t belong to you or me! My job is to protect it. So, basically, what I’m trying to say, Cagliostro, is fuck off!”

  “Smart girl. I was going kill you all anyway.” His eyes blazed like fire and he shifted and grew into a giant demonic-looking thing made out of pure darkness. His wings reminded me of a dragon and the only discernible feature were his glowing eyes. Though his face was a perfectly dark shadow, I somehow got the impression that he looked really pissed-off.

  “Run!” I yelled at Julian, and beelined directly for Cagliostro, aiming to stab the son-of-a-bitch right in the throat.

  He flicked the sword away from me like it was a plastic rattle in a baby’s hand and grabbed me by the throat. With all the will I could muster, I covered both Charlotte and me with the magical force field, but he didn’t release his grip. The force field just seemed to stop him from squeezing our heads from our bodies—at least for the time being.

  “You, a feeble amateur, wielding Armor against me?” His voice had changed and it sounded like it was coming from what I imagined were the bowels of Hell, or off one of those death metal albums. “I have seen Seraphim fall by my blade at the Battle of Evermore … throughout time, Warrior Angels a thousand times more powerful than you have perished by my hand.”

  He squeezed more tightly on my neck and brought me face to face with him. His glowing eyes began to mesmerize me: I saw millennia worth of the fire and blood of dark violence. I saw my dream—in it, my mother losing the Scroll and an angel perishing by the blade of a shadowy demon. Cagliostro. Dread, like a bunch of spiders, crawled up my entire being, and I could feel the integrity of the protective shield covering Charlotte and me starting to crack.

  At the moment I assumed to be my last breath, his grip abruptly released and Charlotte and I fell to the floor. Cagliostro shifted back into his human form and his eyes were seized with a look of shock and curiosity.

  Lilith stood behind him.

  He turned around to face her and I saw it: Lilith had plunged the very dagger meant for me into his back.

  “You bitch!” He lurched forward at her, and she side-stepped him, grabbing Charlotte by the hand. The two of them blinked out of the Palace Hotel.

  I expected the asshole to splinter into a billion fragments, but he only stumbled forward. Apparently that dagger could kill angels, but not demonic mages. Good to know.

  I stood there, surrounded by a crew of Cagliostro’s minions.

  “Get her!” he ordered.

  Reinvigorated by the fact that I hadn’t died, I reclaimed my sword and recovered the protection of the shield as I sprinted among the demons, warlocks, shifters, and witches, slicing away at them with berserker rage. Things were looking pretty good until one of the lizard shifters blindsided me and clawed off my right hand, the one I was holding my sword with. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much blood. Probably because of the magic the Armor had imbued me with.

  I grabbed my hand, sans sword, from the floor, held back a wave of puke, and tucked it into my belt. Backing up, I ducked safely behind my shield. The creatures—no longer in their dazzling glamorous attire—salivated greedily as they backed me into a corner. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold off the army; my Armor seemed to be losing power from where my right hand had been severed. I pressed against the wall and called out to something—I wasn’t sure what—for a little help, please.

  From overhead, a ball of familiar blue light twinkled, and behind it trailed a rainbow of other faeries and magical creatures—the ones I had helped escape from the warehouse. I’d never been so happy to see a faerie. They began attacking the Shadow Order with their magic. It looked so surreal, seeing the beautiful creatures going to battle with such despicable wretches, but it was nice to have a moment to collect myself.
r />   “Looking good, Fiona.”

  I whipped around to find Asher. Still gorgeous. And alive.

  “You’re not dead!” I wanted to hug him, but I couldn’t release my shield.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “I’d give you my hand, but it’s gone.”

  He winced at the sight of my mangled wrist, then wrapped his arms around my waist and glimmered us out of the Palace Hotel.

  thirty-eight

  Asher and I glimmered into my busted-up living room and collapsed to the floor. He looked at my wrist and ran around looking for a towel, but only came back with a dirty rag. I tossed it across the room toward a pile of wood.

  “Hmm … I’d rather not risk infection. Besides, I think I’ll regenerate.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  Asher’s deep blue eyes held a sea of worry. I was so happy that they were open again and staring into mine that I had forgotten the pain coursing through my body. I had even forgotten that he had lied to me about being a bounty hunter. He leaned toward me and planted a kiss on my lips. Not just a sympathy kiss; it was one of those kisses that made my skin tingle to life. The warmth that spread through my limbs masked the pain. He embraced me and held my head, rocking me gently. I felt safe in his arms. My angel gone rogue.

  A glister of violet light filled the living room, and Ezra stood over us, frowning.

  “Seriously? Now?” I spoke without thinking, giving Ezra the green light to enter my thoughts.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked, keeping the conversation outside of my head so Asher could hear.

  “What’s it look like?”

  “The Monarchy will never approve of this relationship.”

  “The Monarchy can kiss my—”

  “Easy, Fiona,” Asher stroked my shoulder and stood up, helping me to my feet.

  I swayed, dizzy from exhaustion and my recent amputation. “Hey, Ez. You think you can fix this?” I held up my right arm.

  “That’s why I’m here. I need to take you to my dimension for some serious healing. Julian’s there now. Told me what happened.”

  “So you know about the Scroll? There was only one. Cags didn’t have the other one.”

  “We traced it to New York,” Ezra said.

  “What’s it doing there?”

  “Still trying to figure that part out. I need to take you with me. We have more work ahead of us.”

  “I love how you say ‘we’ like you actually do anything. You kinda left me hanging. If it weren’t for Laila and Asher, I would’ve been eaten alive by lizards and demons.”

  “That’s why I need you to come with me. You need more training. Clearly, you weren’t ready to go up against Cagliostro yet.”

  “What about my job at Lifting the Fog? And what about….” I paused, staring at Asher for a very long and awkward moment. “What about my house? I’m in the middle of a big remodel here.”

  “You can call your boss, tell her you’ve decided the job isn’t for you,” Ezra said.

  “What? No way. I love my job. I’m not quitting.”

  Ezra closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, frustrated. I did feel a tiny bit sorry for him. Asher wasn’t the only one in the room who had gone rogue. From the second Ezra showed up in the bathroom at that club on my twenty-first birthday, I had been trying to run the show. I’d been doing things my way. Maybe it was time to start listening a little more. Perhaps he wasn’t a bad Guide…. How would I know? I hadn’t given him much of a chance.

  I closed my eyes and communicated with Ezra in my head. “I’m sorry, Ezra. I know I’ve been a nightmare. I have a one-track mind, I guess.”

  His words filled my thoughts. “That’s the thing, Fiona. You don’t have a one-track mind. You have a brilliant mind. It’s your will that keeps tripping you up. I want to help you, I want to be your Guide, but you have to meet me halfway.”

  “We sound like a freaking Lifetime movie.”

  He laughed out loud.

  “Did you guys kiss and make up?” Asher asked, smiling.

  The energy in the room had shifted to something less daunting. The three of us laughed for a minute, until a throbbing pain ripped up my arm.

  “We’re gonna need to tend to this soon,” I said. “But first let me make a call.”

  I stepped out on the front porch and called Somer Barrett, forgetting to look at the time.

  “Fiona? It’s two o’clock in the morning. Are you okay?” Somer was breathing heavily, but it didn’t sound like she had been sleeping. I was glad one of us was celebrating our big win of exposing Stone and his human trafficking operation.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m fine. It’s just … I don’t know how to say this, but—”

  “Tell me, Fiona. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out.”

  “I need to quit.”

  Silence. Then the rustling of sheets and Somer’s footsteps on the floor. “Is this because I didn’t let you headline the story?” she asked.

  “No,” I said a little too fast.

  “What is it then?”

  “I have to go away for a little while. Get some things figured out.”

  “Sure. I get it. You just broke a huge story. You saw the horrific underbelly of life. That can be incredibly unsettling. You take all the time you need.”

  I stared off to the foggy sky, the damp chill coated my body, sending a shiver through me. For the first time in my very organized and planned out life, I had no idea what was coming next. My neat and tidy life had been demolished, and much like my grandmother’s house, the rooms in my heart were in disarray. How long would I be gone? What would happen with Asher? My body illuminated and looked bright in the darkness, but my future was as cloudy as the fog blanketing over the city.

  I knew Ezra wanted me to quit so I could focus my time and energy on my Protector responsibilities. It was the right thing to do, but so was staying at Lifting the Fog and working to expose the wickedness happening in the world. Weren’t both jobs two sides of the same coin?

  “You know what would be extremely helpful?” I asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’d like to work for you on a freelance basis,” I said.

  Somer was quiet while she considered my offer. She let out a sigh. “Okay. I’d rather have you part-time than lose you for good. You just promise me you’ll contact me first when you get back? Not the competition?”

  I laughed, relieved. “Is there any competition? Right now, nobody can touch you.”

  “And that’s how I want to keep it. So, you call me when you’re back, got that, Fiona Farrow?”

  “Yep.”

  “And, Fiona,” she paused. “I’m really proud of you. You’re at the beginning of your career and you’ve come out the gates guns blazing. Your parents would be proud.”

  “Thanks, Somer.”

  Yes, my parents would indeed be proud.

  Back in the living room, Ezra and Asher were in a heated discussion. They shut up when I entered. The two seemed to know something I didn’t, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know—but the investigative journalist in me had to know.

  “Do you two already know each other? You’re way too comfortable being shitty to each other.”

  “It’s a long story,” Asher said.

  “One I can share with you while you’re healing that wrist,” Ezra added.

  “Boys and their secrets,” I teased.

  “How’d the call go?” Ezra asked.

  I decided I’d keep a few of my own secrets. “Fine. She took it well. She’s a professional.” Then I quickly changed the subject. “So if Julian is in your dimension, where are Charlotte and Lilith?”

  “No idea,” Ezra said.

  My stomach lurched. “What do you mean? They blinked out of the hotel; I saw them.”

  “I’m guessing she’s skipped town with her sister to get as far away from Cagliostro as possible. She did stab him in the back,” Ezra said.

  “Literally. And it w
as a thing of beauty. That succubus inadvertently saved my ass. But what about Charlotte? If she’s in danger, it’s my fault; I made her go tonight.”

  “And you’ll have to live with that,” Ezra said, raising his brows.

  No arguing from me. He was right. “Well, I’m not going anywhere with you until I know she’s safe.”

  Ezra glanced at my wrist. “If you don’t come, you won’t live. But it’s your choice. I trust you’ll make the right one.”

  “You’re super annoying. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  Ezra nodded. “Your mom. On a few occasions.”

  “That reminds me…. What about my parents? I saved the Scroll, so shouldn’t they come back now? Or is the Monarchy dead set on me dying a lonely spinster?”

  “The Monarchy didn’t lock your parents away, Cagliostro did that.”

  “Whatever. I’m guessing they have more power than a demon mage.”

  “It’s not the way things work, Fiona.”

  I wondered what would happen if the demon mage died before I found my parents. Would they be trapped forever? This question would be the thorn in my side until I had a solid answer, but those weren’t easy to come by—not when you’re dealing with supernatural messes to clean up left and right. I stood next to Asher and held his hand with the one I still had. “So, you’re serious about us? Can’t the Monarchy let this one slide?”

  “He’s a rogue one. Like I said, the Monarchy doesn’t approve.”

  “But he redeemed himself. He saved a Protector. Doesn’t that count for something? I mean, we all make mistakes. Can he just get a fresh start? He’s not a bad guy. He even helped you from getting attacked.”

  Asher put his finger over my lips, quieting me. He cupped my face and leaned down, pressing his lips softly against mine. I memorized the moment, not knowing if or when there’d be another one in our future. “Fiona,” he whispered. “Things have a way of working themselves out.”