Savior of Midnight: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Chronicles of Midnight Book 5)

by Debbie Cassidy

  “And for the rest of us who don’t speak science?” Ryker asked.

  “It means they can reduce nephs and winged to goop,” Bane said.

  Trying to imagine that was just ... Fuck. “We need to grab Gregory and his unit and get the heck out of here.”

  “Schematics!” Rivers scanned the monitor quickly. “I have the other exit.”

  Death peered over his shoulder. “I see it. It’s not far. We just need to get—”

  The screen above the one with the schematics flipped to live video footage of Gregory and his Lupin. They were in some kind of dining room with Formica chairs and tables. This must be where the scientists hung out, their chill place? The screen next to the one showing us Gregory came to life. This one showed us five Messiahs heading down a corridor.

  The schematic blipped with red dots and two bunches of blue dots. “The red are the Lupin and the blue are the Messiahs,” Rivers explained. “Shit, the Messiahs are headed right for Gregory. They have the Lupin pinned in.”

  “We need to get to them right now.” I headed for the door.

  “You need to get above ground,” Death said. “Those things have taken down too many neph already. With your temporary immunity, you could do some damage.”

  “We’re not leaving Gregory and his unit to die.”

  “Those Messiahs will be on them in less than two minutes. They’re already dead.”

  But I was already out the door and running down the corridor, the schematic burning a hole in my mind and my daggers snug in my hands. Gregory had come to our aid when we’d needed him. There was no way I’d be leaving the Lupin to fend for themselves.

  The whirr of machines grew louder as we got closer to the Messiahs, and then there they were—glorious and dangerous as they burst into the dining area ahead of us. Gregory’s roar was a primal thing, and then one of the Lupin let out a blood-curdling cry. Everyone froze for a split second, long enough to take in the mass of bio matter spattered across the floor. The bio matter which, until a moment ago, had been a Lupin. And then all hell broke loose.

  My daggers cut a neat path through the nearest Messiah’s leg, and the thing stumbled and went down. Bane was on it in a second, smashing its head repeatedly with the hilt of his massive sword. In that moment, his face was pure Bane, feral and hungry and fucking awesome. I severed the Messiah’s spinal column and it stopped trying to get up, then it was on to the next one. The guys and I worked like a well-oiled machine. We were connected, able to anticipate where the other would strike and what position they would be in. It was fucking weird and bloody amazing all at the same time. There was Ryker to my left about to bring down his axe. Better slide out of the way to avoid getting brained, but make sure to move left, not right, because Rivers was there, swiping with his sword to bring a Messiah to its knees in time for me to slice off its head. We were in tune. In sync, we were the weapon. The power that coursed through me ran through their veins too, making their every movement and every reflex that much faster. The Messiah, this AI killing unit, didn’t stand a chance against us.

  Death, and the rapid disintegration of their pack member, had warned the Lupin to keep a distance, allowing my unit to do their thing. Five down, five to go, except this five were retreating—turning tail and running.

  “They’re headed topside!” Orin yelled.

  We surged after them, through the network of corridors. The prey was suddenly the predator, and man, did it feel good.

  “Get topside and warn the others!” Bane yelled at Death.

  Death winked out mid-run.

  The corridor we were in sloped upward. “We’re approaching the second exit. The fucking Messiahs were fast when they wanted to be, and by the time we reached the exit, they were through and the damn thing was closed again.

  “Maybe if I go back to the safe room, I can find a way to open it up,” Rivers said.

  “Wait, maybe this door isn’t as thick. Move back.” I plunged the daggers into the metal and began to slice through it. It was thick but nowhere near as thick as the door in the shelter. Still, it wasn’t as easy as it looked to get through the damn thing; it took several long seconds of effort before rancid air came filtering through the gaps I’d made. A moment later, we were looking through a mini door, out into what looked like an old, unused sewer pipe. I climbed through first. From out here the hinges were visible, and it took less than a second to slice those off and bring the whole door down. Boots clanging against metal, we ran full-pelt down the pipe and into the fresh night air, straight into a battle out of a nightmare.

  Chapter 18

  The only shades in this war zone were ones without hosts. They attacked like lethal shadows, cutting and bruising and bringing down the neph they made contact with. They cocooned the Messiahs in darkness, making it almost impossible for us to attack. The Messiahs didn’t turn on them, though. Why? Maybe because the shades didn’t have tangible DNA to decimate? The conclusion made sense; Asher must have discovered the genesis bunker and used his hostless shades to scope it out. It was why there were no shades with hosts on the battlefield. Those would have been at risk, but these ... these were safe.

  For a moment, the guys and I were suspended in the heat of things, slipping and sliding across the remains of the winged and neph who’d been struck down by the awful machines created by a madman.

  “Serenity,” Ambrosius called out. “Asher is on the knell, east of here. He has Adamah. We need to strike now while he’s unprotected.”

  “We’re with you,” Bane said. His biceps bulged and rippled as he cleared a path through the shades and the Messiahs, allowing me to make a run for the knell. There was no time to thank him, no time to look back or wonder if they’d be okay. Our goal was seconds away and that had to be my only focus.

  Ambrosius took me the long way, around the back of the knell in a sneak attack on Asher, who was indeed alone, but surrounded by a bubble of magic tinged green and blue. An unconscious Adamah floated inside the bubble with him.

  “The magic wasn’t visible from a distance,” Ambrosius said. “I won’t be able to get to him.” His voice was saturated with regret.

  But regret wasn’t on the agenda for us, not today, not ever again. “I can get you in.” I slipped into aether-sight and focused on him. “Are you sure you want to do this, Ambrosius? You could lose yourself. You could die. There’s still time to change your mind.”

  “I know the risks, but everything, every mote of grass, every creature, has its own unique purpose, and this ... this is mine. Succeed or fail, I must try.”

  My throat tightened and my arms ached to give him a hug.

  He smiled knowingly. “I love you too, Serenity. I would have been proud to call you my daughter.”

  My eyes pricked, and I nodded dumbly.

  “Let’s do this while we can.”

  “Okay. On the count of three. Stay with me.” My daggers appeared in my hands.

  He nodded, his gaze flicking to my blades as comprehension dawned.

  “One. Two. Three.” I made a run for Asher, my feet practically flying across the ground. By the time he registered my presence, it was too late, I was on him, my blade slicing through his magical shield. And Ambrosius was through, brushing against me, for just a moment, communicating his hopes and dreams—the world, he’d wanted to see the world, feel the sun on his face, taste a strawberry, and smell a rose. He’d wanted so much and then he was gone.

  Asher’s eyes widened in horror. His hands flailed and then he fell to the ground, his body a knot of spasms.

  Ambrosius. Come on, you can do this.

  Asher’s body convulsed on the ground, his back arched and his teeth gritted. Ambrosius was definitely having an effect. Nails biting into my palm, I watched, impotent to help, as Ambrosius tried to wrest control of Merlin’s body from Asher. Beside me, Adamah’s body began to lose altitude. It dropped several inches until it was level with my hip. Shit. I needed to wake him up. Maybe he could help?

  “Adam
ah!” I shook him.

  Nothing.

  Fuck it. I slapped him hard once around the face.

  No effect.

  Yeah, if only a spell could be broken that easily.

  “Serenity ...” Ambrosius looked at me through Merlin’s eyes.

  “You did it.” I crouched by Merlin. “You killed him.”

  Ambrosius pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Too late ... can’t hold him off much longer ... You need to—”

  His hand shot out to grab my wrist.

  “Run!” Ambrosius screamed, and then Merlin’s eyes belonged to Asher once more and the grip on my wrist tightened.

  I twisted my arm, trying to get free. “Get off!”

  Asher smiled. And if Asher was smiling, if he was looking at me through Merlin’s eyes, that meant Ambrosius was ... Oh, God ...

  “I think I’ll take these,” Asher said.

  Heat lanced up my arms, intense and sudden and, shit, he was burning me. My inner forearms began to sizzle and a scream replaced the sob in my throat. He was taking them. He was extracting the fucking daggers. No. Mine. They were mine. My daimon rose up, her darkness clamping down on my wrists to try and smother the enchanted flames that licked at my skin. But we weren’t strong enough, not against Merlin. Not against his magic, because he had it all now, and he would be unstoppable. My scream was raw and primal, scraping at the inside of my throat and deafening me, and then with a clink the daggers landed on the ground. I should take them, should pick them up, but my body was immobile, held in Merlin’s arcane grip. Even when he released me, my body wasn’t my own.

  He slowly picked up the daggers and turned them over in his hand. The whirr of machinery drowned out his triumphant laugh.

  I cocked my head, injecting as much bravado and mockery into my tone as possible. “You do realize you sound like a fucking cliché villain, right?”

  His laughter cut off as a Messiah approached us. That same green bubble of energy wrapped itself around Asher. The Messiah faltered and came to a standstill, unable to detect Asher.

  “No, Serenity Harker, you’re the cliché,” Asher said. “The self-important heroine who believes that she’s invincible,” he mocked. “But look at you now? Your friend is dead, your daggers are mine, and your immunity to the Messiah is wearing out.” He canted his head. “Death awaits you.”

  The Messiah’s horrific metal head turned toward me, its eyes flaring crimson as it registered my presence.

  Oh, fuck.

  Asher glanced at the machine and his face hardened. “Oh, no. Your death won’t be quick. There will be no easy oblivion for you. I want you to feel pain. I want you to feel the bite of the very blades that you’ve used to maim my men.”

  The blades ... he was going to kill me with the blades.

  “Harker!” Bane’s voice drifted on the wind, up the rise toward me.

  Asher gripped the blades with purpose. The bond between me and the guys tightened and thrummed with energy. They were headed toward me, and hope, the stupid little bird it was, gave a flutter before reality stamped on its head. There was no hope. Not for me, and if I didn’t act fast there’d be none for the guys either. They needed to get out of here, they needed to run, because if the coating agent had run its course on me then they too would be vulnerable and the Messiah would turn on them at any moment. They needed to live to fight another day.

  “Harker!”

  Bane’s bellow was closer, only seconds away. If he saw me alive, he’d try and save me and then the Messiah and Asher would have him and the guys surrounded. But if I was already dead ... My heart sank and my limbs went cold.

  I tilted my chin and stared into Asher’s eyes. “You know what I think? I think you’re a coward. You get the shades to do all the dirty work because you’re too much of a pussy to get your hands dirty.”

  More Messiahs were heading our way, attracted by my power. It was probably a fucking beacon to them now that I was no longer masked.

  “Do it!” I narrowed my eyes. “I fucking dare you.”

  Asher’s eyes flashed as he raised the daggers and brought them down in an arc toward me. There was no time to contemplate the bite of the blades, only time to squeeze my eyes shut and visualize the faces of the men I loved or whisper a thank you to fate for bringing us together and allowing me to find a place to belong.

  No time for goodbye.

  Something slammed into me, throwing me backward onto the ground—something hard and warm and familiar.

  “No!” Asher’s bellow was pure rage.

  And then Rivers’s scent hit me. Rivers ... No. His scent mingled with the coppery tang of blood as I tried to staunch the bleeding to his abdomen. Asher lunged again but Rivers blocked him with his body, taking a stab to the shoulder. No, dammit. He had me pinned, shielding me with his body while an enraged Asher did his best to get to me. Blood everywhere, slick and thick, and sobs, my sobs. Please, no. He was too strong. Too determined. Too ... our eyes locked for a brief moment in that fucked-up scuffle, and the Mind Reaper looked back at me. And then he twisted away, bringing his arm up to block Asher’s next attack. I screamed, expecting Asher to take Reaper’s limb, but the trajectory of the stab was off, and the dagger bit into Reaper’s cuff, slicing through and glancing off.

  “Cover your ears,” Reaper said.

  It took a split second to realize what he was about to do, and then I slapped my hands over my ears just in time to avoid the full blast of Rivers’s siren scream. The force of it sent Asher flying backward, up into the sky. It propelled him all the way to the other side of the battlefield until he was no longer visible. It pushed back the Messiah moving toward us, buying us some time.

  Reaper fell back, his chest heaving. He coughed up blood. Blood everywhere. He was slick and soaked with it. How many wounds? How many? I scrambled up and pulled him against me, supporting his back with my chest.

  “What did you do?”

  He raised a hand to touch my cheek lightly. “What needed to be done.”

  “Harker! Rivers!” Bane slid to a crouch beside us.

  Ryker, Orin, and Xavier joined us on the ground. Rivers was dying. The thread binding him to me was fading. I needed to stop it, to pull him back, but when I slipped into aether-sight the air around him was purple, red, and orange. It pulsed and stung me when I tried to make contact.

  Rivers groaned. “Stop ... Serenity. You can’t fix this.”

  My eyes stung with the threat of hot tears, but I needed to focus, to keep it together. There had to be something. But in the end, there was only my plea. “Please, don’t die.” I held him tighter as if that would be enough to keep him tethered to me.

  Machinery clanked and whirred as the Messiahs took their position around us. It was over. There was no escaping them. Our time was up. The guys shifted closer to me, forming a wall around me and Rivers. Together. We’d go out together.

  Rivers coughed again, hawked up blood, and then let out a raspy chuckle. “Fuck that,” he said. “Death can go fuck itself.” He made a grab for Bane’s arm, using it to haul himself up. “Take care of her.” He glared at the rest of the guys. “All of you. You fucking take care of her.”

  “Rivers, man ...” Orin’s words were cut off with a sob.

  “Rivers isn’t here right now,” Reaper said. “But he approves.”

  He locked gazes with me and for a moment both Rivers and Reaper looked back at me, finally united in a singular purpose. My heart squeezed painfully for everything that would be left unsaid between us, at the unfairness of it all.

  “Cover your ears,” Reaper said.

  And then he opened his mouth and screamed for the last time.

  Chapter 19

  Rivers’s siren scream blasted out in a wide radius. Every Messiah caught in it convulsed and whirred to a standstill.

  “EMP,” Ryker said. “Rivers’s siren call acted like an EMP.”

  The sound of metal hitting the earth was a symphony to my grief, because Rivers was gone
. The thread binding us was gone, and he lay limp and silent in my arms.

  Orin sobbed softly, but my sorrow wouldn’t be so uncomplicated. Instead it grew and morphed, twisting into a monstrous beast of vengeance. Pressing a hard kiss to Rivers’s forehead, I carefully laid him on the ground and pulled myself up. The guys rose with me, and as if sensing my need and my intention, the power inside us swelled and roared down the connections, pushing through the anchor to fill me with an inferno. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more, because Asher was coming back, racing across the field of dead machinery and battling neph and shades to finish what he’d started. Except it was me that would be finishing things, because I knew where to get the power I needed.

  My hands cupped Adamah’s face. “It’s time to wake up.” It was a command accompanied by the release of my sorrow, which seeped into him through my palms. His body bucked, his eyes snapped open, and then he hit the earth. He stared at me blankly from his crumpled position on the ground for a moment, and then his beautiful face contorted in rage.

  “Asher,” he said.

  “Yes. We need to kill him.”

  Adamah stood. “He’s coming.” He looked down on me. This will take everything we have. This will take all our grace. He said the words in my head.

  Yes.

  His brow furrowed. It will undo us.

  It no longer mattered, because I was numb with anger. “I’m ready.”

  The guys flanked us as Adamah slid his hand into mine, unaware of what I was about to do. There was no time to warn them, because, like Ambrosius, this had been my purpose all along—a weapon of destruction. Asher was a streak of green as he came flying at us. The power inside me coiled itself and rushed down my arm to settle in the hand linked to Adamah’s.

  “Are you ready?” Adamah asked.

  “Yes.”

  And then my power was rushing out of me, into Adamah. He was siphoning from me. Rapid and unyielding. Wait. What? No.