Betrayal (The Divine, Book Two)

by Forbes, M. R.

  I could have agonized over what I had done wrong in watching out for her, and helping to raise her. Too much ‘ninja training’? Not enough attention? Not enough affection? I knew it was none of those things. She was a real diuscrucis, and like it or not evil was in her nature. So was good, which meant there was still hope. Just as much as I was sure she was helping Rebecca, I was just as sure that the new Demon Queen had manipulated her into doing it. Maybe all it had taken was to put her in front of Gervais with the opportunity to get even.

  Still, I longed for a minute to breath, to try to relax and close my eyes, to get back to Josette so we could work our way through everything together. I’d even welcome Ulnyx at this point, to lend me his demonic perspective. There had to be some benefit to having his soul mixed with mine beyond an enhanced sense of smell and the ability to shift into a huge smelly monster. I had a feeling minutes to breath would get harder to come by, not easier.

  “Where are we going?” I asked Zeek, breaking the silence at last. I could see the guilt and pain written on the man’s giant face. I could smell the intensity of his emotions.

  “I’m taking you to m’lady,” he replied. “Two hours to the airport, another two to Zurich. We’ll be there before dawn.”

  Back the way I had come. We’d likely be flying over Gervais’ chateau, where Izak and Lylyx were waiting. “I need to make a phone call,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my cell.

  It rang twice before Lylyx picked it up. “Lylyx, it’s Landon. You’ve got to get Izak, and you’ve got to get out of the chateau. Tell him to take you somewhere safe, I’m sure he knows where.”

  “Landon, are you okay?” Lylyx asked. Her concern was sincere.

  “I’ve been better, but I’ll survive,” I replied. “I want you to survive too. Where’s Izak?”

  “He’s still down in the basement with Gervais, but at least the screaming stopped a while ago. I came upstairs. I can be evil, and I can be cruel, and I can kill anything that tries to stop me from getting what I want, but this was something else. What’s going on?”

  I couldn’t imagine anything that would rattle a Great Were. It made my skin crawl. “I don’t have time to explain. Just get him and get out. I’m pretty sure there are some nasty demons headed your way, and I don’t think even Izak can take them all. I’ll call you again when I have more time.”

  “Okay,” Lylyx said. “Stay safe.”

  I looked over at Zeek. Something told me that was going to be a hard request to grant. “You too,” I said. I hung up.

  “Lylyx is working for them,” Zeek said.

  “Not anymore,” I replied. “That’s why I need to get her someplace safe. Once Rebecca finds out I took over the pack, she’s going to be out for blood.” Not to mention, she had been surprised that Izak was still alive. There was no way she wasn’t going to try to rectify that miscalculation.

  He raised his eyebrow. “You took over the pack?”

  “I absorbed the soul of their former alpha, a Great Were named Ulnyx. He told me about some loophole that let me challenge for position.”

  Zeek’s laughter boomed and echoed in the van. “M’lady is going to love that one,” he said. His mirth spent, he returned to glowering. “You said Ulnyx?” he asked after another breath. “I knew a were once who went by that name. It was a long time ago.” His small eyes rotated towards me. “Ulnyx is a pretty uncommon name, even for a demon. Maybe he knows me? I went under a different name back then. They called me Tobias the Grand.”

  I felt Ulnyx kick, hard. Zeek smiled, a friendly but malevolent smile. The demon’s power surged in me, and I sensed the memory flooding forward, overwhelming my defenses, and dropping me towards darkness. Zeek’s smile faded, his brow furrowing. I heard him say my name, but then he vanished in the present.

  “Uncle, look!”

  Rolix is excited when he sees the red flag raised high in the center of the village, a signal to the outlying properties that the King’s Fair is in town. I look over at the pup and smile, the fair always means good hunting.

  “Do you think they’ll have acrobats, like the fair back home?” he asks.

  At nearly sixteen, Rolix is barely a pup any longer, the time for his first hunt upon him. It’s the reason we’ve travelled so far, from the familiar humidity of the Delta to the coldness of the west. Along the way I have taught him all that I know about survival, and some of what I know about thriving in our world. It’s rare for the alpha to embark on a First Hunt with any of the brood, but Rolix is his father’s son, and his father is the only one in the pack I can trust. This is the depth of our bond, forged in the blood of our enemies and strengthened by domination. Rolix is also the closest I’ll ever come to offspring of my own.

  “You are a pup still, Rolix,” I say. “But come nightfall you will have outgrown acrobats and magicians. If you haven’t, you won’t survive for long.” It’s a cold reality, one that all of the pack must be prepared for if they’re to survive.

  Rolix growls and nods in agreement. “I know that Uncle. Since it is my last day to enjoy it; I want to savor it one final time, before I cast it from my mind forever.”

  I fear for the length of his life, the way he clings to his childhood. My own First Hunt came when I was only seven, when I demanded the right to kill for myself. I know he’ll never be an alpha, and that he’ll never take a mate. It’s better this way, I tell myself. I will never have to defend myself from him. I will never have to kill him.

  “Fine,” I say. His fate is not my fate. “Let’s see if there are acrobats.”

  The fair is crowded with peasantry, all centered on a simple wooden stage that has been constructed in the center of the town. Spread around it are hastily constructed booths of all kinds, the mortals selling their hot pies, streamers, baskets, and any other random trinkets they have the limited skills to create. We push our way through the crowds. At first getting looks for our foreign appearance, but I’ve learned the simplest ways to manipulate the fear of the sheep, and within a few steps we are strange no longer. I take a deep breath, ignoring the stench of the grime that covers the skin and clothes and picking out the warm blood beneath it. A feast tonight. It makes being here to watch the fools dance bearable.

  “Uncle, this is incredible,” Rolix says, his eyes wide to take in the bustle and energy of the crowds. He points up at the stage, where a monster of a man has made his appearance. Dressed in a long blue velvet robe hanging open at the waist, with a bare chest and simple leather pants, he is easily the largest human I have ever seen, not just in height but in sheer mass, with enormous muscled arms and a wide barrel chest. Not just a human, I can taste it in the air. Divine. I see his eyes dance our way, and I give him only a slight nod of understanding. I know what he is, and I’m not afraid.

  The man doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. His eyes work their way across the crowd as though he had seen nothing he wasn’t expecting. The meat still moves around me, unaware of the newcomer. Until he speaks.

  “Ladies and lords.” His voice booms across the crowd, stopping all of the conversation, all of the motion. They are like rabbits frozen by an oncoming fox, still and attentive in their surprise.

  “Ladies and lords,” he says again, more quietly. “It is my humble honor to be here before you today. My name is Tobias the Grand, master illusionist and strongest of the strong, and I’d like to tell you a tale.”

  “Let’s get to the front,” Rolix exclaims, pushing his way through the crowd towards the front of the stage. I’d rather keep my distance from this Divine, but I won’t let the pup too far from my sight. I too approach the stage.

  “This is a tale of good and evil, of the world above, and the world below.”

  He moves his hands, and flames puff out in the air in front of him. Another motion and wisps of clouds twirl around him like a cobra. The crowd ‘oohs’ and claps, and I see they are regaining their minds, shifting themselves for a better view of this Tobias.

  “There are mo
nsters that walk Britannia my friends,” he says, his voice grand and overemphasized. “Monsters that would eat your soul and burp up dung.”

  His illusions follow his speech - casting a shadow of a were, and having it double over to expel something from its mouth. This gets a laugh from the gathering, but I don’t react. There is no mistake he looks at me before beginning his next sentence, and I see the challenge for what it is. Not here, not now. Tonight. There will be no dining on sheep until the shepherd has been dealt with.

  “He is a fool,” I say to Rolix. The pup is enamored with the show. He seems unable to understand how the hulk on stage is mocking us.

  “His tricks are amazing,” he replies.

  Tobias continues his show. He brings out puppets, a man and a wolf. The man tricks the wolf and destroys it, much to the amusement of the crowd. He laughs along with them, taking the wolf puppet and throwing it in my direction. Rolix catches it, laughing, oblivious. I’ve had enough. I grab the pup by the neck and pull him from the crowd. I can hear the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ behind us as we retreat away from the gathering, reaching a small alley between a smithy and an apothecary.

  “Do you understand nothing?” I ask, ripping the wolf puppet from Rolix’s hands. “Do you not see what this Tobias is?”

  Rolix backs away, his head down in submission. “He is Divine,” he says.

  “What kind of Divine?” I growl, throwing the wolf puppet out of the alley and into the small thoroughfare.

  He looks up at me with dumb eyes. “I do not know Uncle.”

  I’m tempted to cut his throat right there, to spare his father the embarrassment of this imbecile. I had thought I could bring the pup to his senses, but I had been wrong. I snarl and raise my hand, changing it to a sharp set of claws. Rolix’s eyes widen, and he drops to his knees.

  “Please uncle,” he says. “I don’t understand.”

  I want to do it, but I pause. I can’t return to the Delta alone. A fool the pup may be, but he may still have use. I lower my claws and reach out with my hand. “Come,” I say to him. “Put your childhood aside Rolix. Tonight we hunt.”

  “Today you die,” the voice says from the mouth of the alley. I recognize the sound, and I recognize the scent.

  “Rolix, stay behind me,” I say, pushing him away from Tobias and turning to face the man. I don’t say anything. Instead, I shift, feeling the strength pour into my body, my face elongating into a muzzle filled with sharp fangs, my body sprouting fur, my hands and feet growing a complete set of claws. I growl softly.

  Tobias smiles and reaches under his velvet cloak, dropping it to the ground. A single strap rests across his chest, and he reaches behind for a short handled, double-bladed axe that had been strapped to his back. When he brings it forward, I see the eye tattooed to his wrist.

  “Templar,” I hiss, crouching down, preparing for the fight. “Have sense and flee. I am no petty were, but Ulnyx, alpha of the Mekong Delta.”

  “You’re all the same to me,” he says, charging.

  He comes at me, and his strength is overwhelming. I slip away from his blade, twisting past the forehand and the backhand, which lead me right into his fist. The force of it sends me sprawling backwards, and I kick up dirt and stone scrambling to maintain my feet. Tobias wastes no time, his massive frame propelling him towards me, his axe coming down from above. I slip aside, digging into the dirt with my feet and kicking dirt up into his face. He groans and stumbles, but rolls away before my claws can find his flesh.

  “You’re quick for your size,” I say, returning to a fighting posture while he rises to his feet. The first effort is a draw.

  “You’re ugly, even for your kind,” he replies, spitting onto the ground between us.

  I snarl and charge, leaping towards him, twisting to avoid his axe and catching his wrist on my forearm. The force shatters my bones, but it shatters his as well, and the axe falls from his hand. I try to scratch his face, but his arms are too long, and his other hand grabs my face and pushes me to the ground. I manage to roll over, but as soon as I do a monstrous boot presses me to the dirt.

  “Stay still,” he says, pressing down harder when I struggle. “I’ll make it swift.”

  He bends over, reaching for the axe. When he does, Rolix leaps from the shadows, landing on the Templar’s back, raking him with his claws. He lets out a short grunt, and then throws himself backwards against the wall of the smithy, sandwiching Rolix between his muscle and the stone. A low cry is all I hear, and when Tobias steps forward again I see Rolix tumble to the ground, broken.

  “No,” I roar, moving to regain my feet. The pup will heal, but only if he has time. As for the Templar, his face is pale, the demon poison beginning to spread through his veins.

  That doesn’t stop him from putting his boot on my neck and forcing me back down. That doesn’t stop him from picking up his axe and turning to Rolix.

  “You care for this one?” he asks, right before he plants the blade in Rolix’s chest.

  The blessed runes flare, and his chest begins to smoke, small whimpers the only indication that he feels the pain of his demise.

  My hands scramble against the foot on my neck, but a layer of chain hides beneath the cloth and I can’t break through. The pain is clear on Tobias’ face when he looks at me, his face twisted in anger.

  “Next time,” he says, removing his foot from my neck, his axe from Rolix, and running out of the alley. I assume he seeks holy water, and I hope he dies before he finds some.

  The van was still moving when the memory faded, but I was slumped over, my forehead pressed against the dashboard. Zeek was on the phone, talking to somebody. Whoever ‘m’lady’ was, I supposed.

  “Hey, he’s awake. I’ll see you soon. Of course, m’lady.” He disconnected and tossed his own cell onto the dash. “Sorry, Landon,” he said. “I didn’t know that would happen.”

  I lifted my head and leaned back. “Me neither,” I replied. I studied him for a minute, remembering the anger that guided the axe into the young were. “Why did you do it?” I ask. Ulnyx’s pain, his shame in failing to protect the boy was still resonating through my emotion.

  “My wife was named Katherine,” he said, sadness filtering into his voice. “She was the sun that I revolved around, a perfect beauty, and a friend without equal.” He paused, remembering her. “She was killed by a demon the year before. Even though I destroyed the creature, I carried the pain and anger of her loss with me still. When I saw the were, when I saw his arrogance, I wanted to kill him. Then, when I saw how he cared for the boy, I wanted him to suffer, the way I was suffering. It never should have happened. For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  He was being honest, but it wasn’t worth anything to me. Ulnyx was silent, so I could only guess he didn’t care either. “I thought the Templars were supposed to be looking out for Heaven’s best interests? Never mind the reasons, why would you be sorry to have killed a demon?”

  His eyes found the road again. “I’ll let m’lady explain,” he said. “The short version is because the story goes a lot deeper than you know right now. You haven’t been around that long, not for a Divine. This is pretty new to you. There’s an awful lot of others who find it all a part of ancient history.”

  I put my eyes on the road, trying to decide if I should push the conversation or not. A lot of questions were circling in the maelstrom of my mind. The one that wasn’t present was the identity of ‘m’lady’. If I pieced everything together, it all started to make a very convoluted sort of sense.

  “There’s a mattress in the back of the van, if you want to catch a few,” Zeek said, motioning towards the rear. “But you probably don’t sleep.”

  I slipped out of the seat and crept to the back.

  “No, but I’m working on my zen,” I replied.

  The back of the van was barren save for the small mattress and a couple of boxes of junk food. If Zeek was a Templar, that meant he had drank from the Grail and gained an immortal life span as
one of his new talents. Even so, he was still mortal, and still needed to eat. I guess it didn’t matter what.

  I dropped over onto the mattress and closed my eyes, not trying to fall asleep, but trying to shake the last vestiges of Ulnyx’s memory from my soul. I was surprised by the level of emotion the Were had exhibited towards the boy; while his primary concern was the embarrassment of losing his charge and failing to kill Zeek, that he felt anything at all towards Rolix showed me that even with access to his past I had misjudged him as nothing but a monster. That didn’t make him a good guy by any stretch, but it did show a semblance of humanity that I hadn’t believed he possessed.

  The key to being in tune with Josette and Ulnyx was letting myself relax and somehow easing off on my nascent defenses, so I laid there completely still and focused on my breathing, trying to let go of the state of alarm I had been in since Mr. Ross had dropped me on the Statue of Liberty. Five years, and I was only beginning to see the true depth of what I had become, and more importantly what I was losing. No wonder I suddenly felt so overmatched again.

  I’m not sure how much time passed. It couldn’t have been too long, because we weren’t that far from the airfield. I lay on the mattress for some time before a single thought, a single word passed up and resonated in my soul as no more than a whisper.

  “Landon,” Josette said.

  I didn’t open my eyes, but tried to stay calm and centered. I could sense a single fine thread snaking behind the blackness behind my eyes. I reached out for it, taking a gentle hold on the end.

  “Josette,” I said. My voice echoed in the dark hollow, but the thread vibrated in response.

  “I hear you,” she replied. “It is faint, but I hear you.”

  “Sarah,” I said. My hold was tenuous, and it seemed too much effort would blow it away like smoke.

  “She is diuscrucis. She can be saved.” Her confidence was unwavering. It gave me comfort.

  “She may need to die,” a new voice interrupted.