“What’s this circle?” I asked.
He searched a bag and a coat he found draped over a desk. “Summoning Omi.”
My throat went dry. “What? So he did it? Brock called Omi?”
He showed me a car key in his hand. “Our way out.”
I recognized the keychain. Morgan had found Victor’s car key. “About the circle, Morgan.”
He finally looked at the circle. “I can’t tell. If we’re lucky, we interrupted the summoning. Otherwise, we’re wasting time talking. Omi could arrive at any minute.”
After a quick peek out the door to make sure drooling demons were absent, Morgan and I sneaked to the staircase.
Halfway to the staircase, I heard a caw and froze. What? Slowly, I turned toward a classroom with a half-opened door from where the sound came.
“What are you doing?” Morgan asked.
I opened the door the rest of the way and gasped.
Right in the center of the classroom, Micah was seated on a chair. He was bound by thick ropes around his bare torso, his ankles, and behind him, his wrists. His head hung low and he had several bleeding wounds spread across his body. And the raven, the one with the scar over an eye, sat on his shoulder.
Morgan shoved me aside and ran to him. “By the Everlast! We’ll get you out of here, my Lord.”
Micah grunted in response.
My heart squeezed. Among us, he had always been the strongest, the one who stood the tallest, the proudest. In truth, he was a god. Theoretically, an evil one. And now here he was, tied and hurt, small and weak.
Morgan tried to shoo the bird.
“Don’t,” Micah said. “He’s mine.”
Oh my. Swallowing my anger, I approached them and knelt beside Micah. This wasn’t the time to be mad at him for sending the bird after me, or for being the immoral god of death.
“I’m … sorry,” he croaked, tilting his head to me. He looked terrible with pale skin and dark circles under his eyes. “For not being able to … defend you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Gently, I cupped his face and held his head up. A cold jolt passed between us and he inhaled deeply. Glad I was still able to heal him from his internal pains, I continued, “There were too many.”
Startling me, the raven took off and hovered in circles above us.
From his waist, Morgan pulled the Crimson Blade out and cut the ropes. Micah started slipping to the ground, but Morgan and I held him. We put his arms around our shoulders and lifted him. Even weak, Micah stood and took most of his weight with him.
Morgan nodded toward the door. “We have to keep going.”
Midway down the last flight of stairs, something jumped out at us. Morgan fell forward and rolled down the rest of the steps—Brock on his back.
With Micah hanging from my shoulder, I sprinted down to the wrestling men. Morgan stumbled up, kicked Brock’s face, and ran to the nearest door, pulling Micah and I behind him. He shoved the door open. All we saw were demons. Dozens of them. And they had seen us.
The taste of bile built up in the back of my throat. My heart pumped so hard my ribs hurt.
“Leave me here and go,” Micah whispered.
“As if I would leave you behind, my Lord,” Morgan said.
Brock caught up with us. “Lord, you say?”
Damn it, now he would deduce Micah was one of the gods.
The raven dove toward Brock and, broken and hurt, Morgan punched the other priest in the face, then threw me the car keys. “Go,” he yelled. I stared at the keys in my hands, frozen. “Run, Nadine. Go! Take him out of here.”
I wanted to help him, I wanted to knock Brock down and carry Morgan to the car with me, even though Micah already weighed a ton alone. I wanted to be able to rewind. I wanted to go back in time with a note that said don’t trust Cheryl and start the last year over. If I could do that, I wouldn’t be watching a friend being punched to death while demons hunted and salivated for us.
But I couldn’t rewind and I couldn’t forget. I had to flee. I had to live. I had to take Micah out of here and deliver him to safety. My family needed me to live. I needed to live. But I couldn’t leave Morgan.
“Nadine—they want you both, not me. I’ll be fine. Go!”
Morgan was right—if I stayed, I’d die and Micah would be recaptured. If I ran, Micah and I just might live.
But Morgan was going with us.
In my pocket, I found the vial. I slipped Micah’s arm from my shoulder and helped him lean against a wall. While both priests wrestled, I let some drops from the vials drip over Brock’s back. In my mind, I saw Brock frozen as an ice sculpture for a long, long time.
“What the …?” Morgan retreated a step from Brock’s still hands and nodded a thanks at me.
Micah stumbled forward, took the dagger from Morgan, and without any ceremonies, stabbed Brock’s heart. The priest’s eyes widened and two seconds later, the ice melted and he fell on the floor.
My hand over my mouth, I gasped. “You killed him.”
Micah stumbled again, clearly dizzy, and Morgan caught hold of him.
He fixed his black eyes on mine. “If we get out of here and don’t kill him, he’ll tell the other gods who we are, who you are, and they will come for you. For your family.”
A shiver rolled down my spine.
He was right.
Still, I didn’t like killing.
The blood oozed from the wound, and I swallowed the bile building in my throat, and the shock.
“We need to move,” Morgan said.
Nodding, I walked to them and put Micah’s arm over my shoulders again. We rushed back inside the building and down the hallway to the exit at the other end, the raven following us. Outside, we saw Victor’s Audi parked about thirty feet from the exit. We darted to the car.
And that was when demons appeared from the corner of the building, running and flying toward us. I ducked, but a claw ripped at my already injured shoulder. I kept running. Escaping. Living.
Near the car, I pressed the button on the keychain. The lock popped up as I grabbed the handle. We slid Micah onto the backseat and the raven flew in. Then, I jumped inside as Morgan entered through the passenger door. With wobbly hands, I locked the doors and turned the car on. The demons bumped against the car. One broke a window. I yelled and stepped on the gas. Ahead, down the dry and dusty road, was a blinking traffic light—the interstate.
“Faster,” Morgan coaxed, gripping my seat and leaning forward.
The wingless demons ran after the car until they couldn’t keep up with the speed anymore, but the flying ones continued the pursuit. A bat scratched the car from front to back.
“Victor will kill me,” I muttered, then shook my head.
What would Victor care? He was a powerful god. He’d never need a car again.
God, I was so stupid!
I pushed thoughts of Victor away. When I reached the interstate, I let out a short, puffed breath. I had no idea which interstate this was or which direction to go, but I hit the brakes and yanked the wheel to the right. The car fishtailed before the tires caught the pavement. I hit the gas, hoping the road would take me away from the demons. To safety.
I slammed my foot down and drove as fast as the car allowed. Now only a few bats flew with us. I kept an eye on them, turning the wheel and zigzagging away from their claws.
But they kept coming. A mass of bats zoomed down on us, flanking the car on both sides. I couldn’t get us out of their reach.
“Morgan, I have an idea.” I gave him the vial with the miracle liquid. “Splash that on us, on the car too, and let’s imagine we’re driving on another road, far from here.”
A few bats landed on the car and starting scratching the metal, probably looking for a way to peel it open.
He eyed the liquid. “Ok, let’s try.”
“Know any safe road?”
“How about I-95 near Jacksonville?”
“Sounds good.”
Morgan opened the vial,
tipped it sideways so his hand was full with the liquid, and sprayed it around. A few drops caressed my skin as my mind shifted to a safe, calm road in Florida.
Under my hands, the wheel of the car became soft, as if it were weightless. I closed my eyes, hoping we would arrive at our imagined destination rather than drive off the road and into the bats’ claws.
When I opened my eyes, expecting to see an empty and safe road, I saw them. Three figures stood right in the middle of I-95.
I stepped on the brakes with all I had. The tires squealed, and the car came to a stop inches away from the Fates.
Chapter Twenty Eight
The three eerie women looked like they had been gardening in their yard, not standing in the path of a fast car. Their calm faces held hints of smiles and their gray eyes never left mine.
The liquid had worked its magic. I was on I-95, inside Victor’s car, with Micah and his bird, but without Morgan. Where the hell was Morgan?
I glanced back and found Micah struggling to sit up. “What’s happening?”
One of the Fates gestured with her white hand. She wanted us to come to them.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I had just escaped from Brock and his demons. I didn’t want to be trapped again. Besides, as far as I knew, the Fates owned me now. I had no idea what they would want with me.
She gestured again.
Micah held on to my seat and looked ahead. “What do they want now?”
I gulped down my fear and exited the car. With the little strength I had, I helped Micah, putting his heavy arm around my shoulders. The raven flew out, but hovered close.
“Where’s Morgan?” I asked as we neared them.
“Safe somewhere else,” the one on the right said.
“What now?”
“Now, you’re both safe,” the one on the left said.
I grimaced. Safe from demons, but not from them. Fates were the women who spun the wheel of destiny, which didn’t let me know if they were evil or good. I decided to be on the defensive, just in case.
“What will you do with me?” I asked.
“We were thinking about leaving this place before we need to interfere more,” the one in the center said. She extended her hand to me, and I squinted at it. “Nadine, your life is ours. If we wish to hurt you, we won’t ask for permission.”
She pushed her hand forward.
As I reached to take it, Micah held my arm. “What are your plans for her?”
“We’re not obligated to answer your question, Mitrus,” the one in the center said. “But rest assured we have no plans of hurting her. For now.”
I looked up to Micah and nodded.
He shrugged and I took the Fate’s hand.
The world around us revolved. I felt as if I were having one of those revealing visions again.
That sudden thought saddened me. I would never have another vision. Ceris had taken the gift from me. Yes, I had fought them at the beginning. After all, I’d thought I was hallucinating. That I was crazy. Insane. There were times I’d wished I didn’t have visions, but now that they had been taken from me, I missed them.
The scenery settled. We stood on a tiny island with white sand and rocky shores that fought against angry black waves that crashed and bellowed. The wind whipped my hair, and I turned my face. A simple cottage that looked a lot like the one the Fates had in the woods stood before us.
I gawked at the view. It was so peaceful, so comforting. “Where are we?”
“On a Croatian island,” one of the Fates answered.
I watched as the raven flew away. “Why did you bring us here?”
“To rest,” the one closest to me said, smiling shyly. “You two will stay here for a week or two.”
“What? Why?” I asked. “And my family? Raisa and Olivia will wonder where I am. I need to go back. And my job at Langone? It’s supposed to start tomorrow.” Wait. I forced my mind to slow down. I was sure the job at Langone had been arranged by Ceris. I didn’t want anything to do with it.
“You deserve it, Nadine,” the same one said. The others stood behind her and didn’t seem to pay attention to our conversation. “You deserve the job at Langone. Ceris found out about the position and told you. You got it on your own. If you had failed to get it, she would have intervened, but it wasn’t necessary.”
Well, that was a relief. I needed that job. I needed it to get into med school and to move forward with my life. “Then I need to go back.”
“The wheel of destiny has spun,” she continued. “Your job at Langone will start in ten days. Raisa and Olivia have been told you are on vacation. And your other friends and family are safe.”
Was this some kind of punishment? “What did I do to deserve this? I thought I had accomplished all Ceris wanted of me.”
“Yes, you did.” Her smile widened. “And this is not a punishment. This is vacation.”
She started walking away.
“Wait,” I called out. Since arriving, I’d wanted to ask them more about Victor, where he was and what would happen now, but had held on to my curiosity.
The Fate faced me. “Yes?”
Instead, I asked, “What about Morgan?”
“Morgan’s destiny is set.” She turned away. “Rest, child.” Her words were carried out by the wind. “We’ll be back soon.”
The Fates walked toward the darkness at the back of the island until they disappeared.
Even hurt and bleeding, Micah looked down at me, a grin on his pale face. “Alone at last.”
***
The wind blew strong and cold, and I shivered. I kept my gaze glued to the spot where I had last seen the Fates until Micah shuddered against me.
“Let’s get you inside.” I helped him turn around and we slowly inched to the cottage.
Like the Fates’ house in the woods, this one was small and simple, with almost no furniture and no electronics. In the living room, the fireplace was lit. It would have been nice to stand there and warm up, but I had to drop Micah somewhere first.
Past a narrow doorway, we found a short corridor with four doors, two closed and two opened.
I pointed toward the door closest to us. “This one.”
Slowly, we made it inside the bedroom and I helped him lay on the bed. He was pale and some of the wounds had stopped bleeding, but now he was covered in dried blood and dirty. I took a few towels from the common bathroom off the corridor, wet some, then went back to the bedroom and sat beside him.
“I feel loved,” he joked with eyes closed, but smiling.
I dabbed the wet towel over his wounds, trying to focus on them and not on the muscles underneath them. “Shut up.”
For some reason, it hadn’t dawned on me that he was a god yet. After all we lived through, it was hard picturing him coming up with evil plans, helping Imha, and running around killing people. Wasn’t that what the god of death did? I shuddered.
Trying to lighten the mood, I said, “So, the raven is yours. Did you have to send it to scare the hell out of me?”
He chuckled, coughed, and then grunted in pain.
Not the answer I expected. “Sorry, don’t answer it.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I knew you were special … because of your aura. So I sent it to watch over you … in case something happened.”
Understandable, but still a little creepy. If I had known it was his bird, I would have been flattered, not scared all of those times.
“Did you know you were special?” I asked before I could think and I felt heat on my cheeks when the corner of his lip tugged up. “I meant, did you know you were a …?” I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud. I swallowed and tried again with a different word. “Did you know you were Mitrus?”
He pursed his lips. “No. I mean, I knew something wasn’t right. I knew I was different, but I had no idea this shit went this far.” He tsked. “It all makes sense now. After I killed those men in Israel, I accessed some part of my past, of my true soul, and some of my power s
eeped in. That’s why I could repel bats, why I liked the dark, and how I could see auras.”
“Yes, it makes sense,” I repeated, trying to absorb all the info. There were a million more questions I wanted to ask him, but I had no idea how to phrase them.
When I passed the towel over the cut on his eyebrow, he held my hand and opened his eyes to look at me. “Thank you.” He turned my palm over and kissed my wrist. A shiver started where his lips touched my skin, and ran up my arms. My heart lurched.
Quickly, I pulled my arm away. “You’re too weak. You need to eat something.”
“I don’t … think I can eat anything right now.” He closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply. “I just want to sleep.”
Trying to make no sound to disturb him, I tiptoed out of the bedroom and closed the door. In the bathroom I found a first aid kit. I picked it up and sat on the beaten loveseat in the living room with intentions to clean my wounds, take some Tylenol, and then find something to eat.
However, my eyelids felt too heavy. I gave in and closed my eyes for a second, relaxing my back on the loveseat and willing the sleep away.
***
I woke up on a squeaky twin bed. Confused, I looked around.
The simple bedroom was inundated by the sunlight streaming from the curtain-less window behind me, and I saw a bag beside the bed with what looked like some of my clothes inside. My shoulder was bandaged and most of my cuts were cleaned.
The memories of the previous day assaulted me, but I refused to be brought down by all that had happened. I just had to get through whatever test the Fates had prepared for me and then go back to my life. I would not think of Victor or Ceris. I would not.
I slid out of bed and peeked out the door. Across the corridor, the bed was made in the other bedroom, which meant Micah was up. I glanced down at me and my torn clothes. Better to take a quick shower and change before showing up like a beggar before a god.
Holy shit, I said it as if it were normal, but it wasn’t. My mind still couldn’t wrap around the fact that Micah was a god. The god of death, actually. Wasn’t he supposed to be evil? Didn’t he plot with Imha to destroy the world?
Destiny Gift Page 22