Chosen (The Chosen Few Trilogy #1)

by Leadbeater, David

  I rubbed her back softly, then slipped my hands under her t-shirt and started to graze my nails gently across her skin. She shuddered, pressed herself against me. The heat of her body made my heart race. She locked her hands behind my neck and kissed me on the mouth.

  I hesitated for only a second and then kissed her back, hard. Her mouth was cool and slightly sweet. I put a hand behind her head and let her hair fall between my fingers. She lifted my t-shirt up and I felt her nails on my back. We were both breathing heavily.

  She unzipped my jeans and pushed them below my hips. I said, “Wait.” and shuffled back a little.

  “New party trick,” I said.

  And, feeling a little foolish standing there in the puddle of my jeans, I concentrated my power and motioned for Belinda to move back towards the window. The night pressed into the glass behind her, occasionally shot by a riot of white as the outside lights flashed on and off.

  In a moment I had tousled her beautiful blonde hair, raised her t-shirt, and started to inch down the zipper on her pants. Belinda stared at me with a mixture of mischief and disbelief. I focused on the silver zipper, slipping it down a centimetre at a time until it came to a stop.

  Belinda put her hands on her hips and pouted. “Now whatcha gonna do?”

  With an effort that popped out droplets of sweat across my forehead I snicked open the button that held her pants together. Now the two halves fell apart.

  “Sweet,” I said.

  Belinda wriggled until the trousers slid down to her ankles. “I can be, but not tonight, Logan.”

  I pressed her up against the glass. Our passion, restrained, yet deep and meaningful, fired my adrenalin and brought my heart to life again.

  For a while the Yawning Cave retreated, and all the dark things gnashed their teeth and crawled away from a new light.

  Oh, Christ, I thought later. I’ve gone and fallen again.

  How ironic. On the night before we all went down to Miami to start a confrontation none of us might survive.

  I woke in the dead of night, staring up at the ceiling where violent shadows flickered in harmony with the swaying trees outside the window. For a moment I blinked in confusion, not recognizing my room. I sensed the weight of someone beside me, something I hadn’t known for years, and was transported back to the past, to where Raychel and the dark things that kept her memory lived.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, battling the memories away. I sat up in bed and gazed down at Belinda. She was a vision, a well-turned corner, a light in the dark. In sleep, her face smoothed out and took on an innocent, sheltered look that I guessed not many people had ever seen. A curl of blonde hair had fallen across her brow. I reached out to tuck it away, making her stir gently, and a faint smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

  I slid out of bed, wrapped a dressing gown around me and walked over to the window. The night outside was windswept and violent and black. I glanced back towards the bed, seeing the alternative.

  I heard noises in the corridor outside my room. A footfall. A whisper.

  I paused for a second to cover Belinda’s naked form with the duvet, then cracked open the door and peered through the gap.

  “I want it!” Hushed, furious tones. A girl’s tones.

  Lucy.

  My heartbeat suddenly tripled. I stepped out into the hallway. Three doors down stood Lucy, clad in her nightie, facing an open door. Her hair was wild and her face was scrunched with anger. Her body language was confrontational.

  “No,” I heard Ceriden’s squeaky voice say. “The answer is no, my dear. Or rather- not yet.”

  “The answer to what?” I asked, my voice cutting through the atmosphere of tension and anger that filled the corridor.

  Lucy jumped and turned towards me. Someone stepped out of the room and, surprisingly, it was not Ceriden, but a black-haired, blue-eyed woman with a lithe body and the most striking way of staring at you that I had ever seen. One look and I couldn’t look away.

  “Hello,” she said. “I am Eliza. I have just arrived.”

  Eliza was steel and silk, leather and lace. She was all things sweet and all things wicked and every temptation under the sun. But for us, I sensed, for the people of Aegis, she was a welcome light in the dark.

  I struggled to find my voice. “What’s going on here?”

  “Nothing,” Lucy said quickly. “Absolutely nothing.”

  I walked forward. “I said- what the hell is going on here?”

  Eliza came out into the corridor to face me. Her black bodysuit absorbed all the light in the corridor and gleamed like polished obsidian. She said, “Your daughter needs you, Mr. Logan. That is all. You would do well to focus on that.”

  “What do you mean? What have you bastards been doing with her?”

  Eliza appeared to come to a decision. She walked towards me, blocking my view of Lucy. This woman’s presence, right next to me, inspired a sense of awe. It also blunted my anger. I noticed her full lips were redder than they should be, probably coated with a sheen of fresh blood. She moved until our bodies touched, and her lips were right next to my ear.

  She murmured, “Lucy came to us tonight. She wants the life of a Shade. She begged us, Logan. But, for you, we refused. You have only one chance left now. Don’t fail her again.”

  My stomach turned to acid. I locked eyes with my daughter as Eliza turned away and walked back into Ceriden’s room and closed the door. Lucy stared at me, haunted, lost, alone.

  What could I do? I was a man who had lost everything.

  “Lucy?” I said, and my daughter crumbled, collapsing in a heap right there in the corridor, not reaching for me but hugging herself, curling up fetus-like, almost as if she was trying to disappear by sinking right through the floorboards.

  “Lucy?”

  My daughter looked up at me through tumbles of dark hair, her eyes glistening and red. “It’s her, dad. It’s mum. I can’t let her go. The only way I can make her go away is to become something else. A Shade. They don’t feel. What did I do that made her leave us? What?”

  Tears rolled down my face as I sprinted to her side. I put my forehead against her own, staring straight into her haunted eyes.

  My mouth opened but nothing came out. What could I say that hadn’t been said already?

  45

  MIAMI, US.A.

  The one and only meeting of Gorgoroth’s Destroyers took place in Coconut Grove, in an old gargoyle-encrusted building that used to be a bank but was now a Starbucks. Loki ordered muffins and Caramel Macchiato’s all round, and they could have been five ordinary friends gathered for a weekly natter at the coffee shop. All they needed, Loki reflected, was the arrival of Jennifer Anniston.

  That would give him ultimate proof that there was a God. Didn’t happen, of course.

  Whatever, he thought. That was a great American word wasn’t it?

  I killed your mom last night. Whatever…I fucked your wife, your sister, your secretary, and your dog…whateverrrr…

  We’re gonna end the world tomorrow…whatever, man, whatever…

  Loki studied his companions. Ashka, with her hard European features and startlingly red eyes. Earlier, a Barista had sauntered over, wiping his hands on his fetching green pinny and asked her to put out her cigarette. Ashka had leaned back and smiled. The Barista’s eyes had bugged, and then he’d gone down faster than a two-dollar crack-whore with busted knees, banging his head on the table as he went.

  “Whatever,” Ashka said as his colleagues dragged him away. “Must have really hurt his head.” Her smile was like deep, biting winter.

  Jondal was virtually a skeleton covered in thin, almost translucent, flesh. Loki thought he appeared on the verge of croaking, and watched him closely just in case. Though entertaining, Jondal’s expiration now would hurt their cause. Mena Gaines, on the other hand, was a fighter, and looked the part. Everything about her caused a stir in Loki’s blood- from the way she sipped her drink to the way she studied him with unabashed confidence. />
  An hour wasted with Mena, he thought, would not be wasted at all.

  Finally his gaze lit upon Emily Crowe. Rockstar.

  “Everything ready?” Loki sipped his drink.

  “Buckets filled with blood,” Gaines flicked her tongue across her lower lip in search of caramel. “Tarpaulins filled with freshly severed human limbs. Burning pikes topped with heads. It’s all in place. They have no idea that the mall is nothing but a diversion.”

  “The authorities have not interfered?” Loki pressed.

  “Recent losses were not acceptable, it seems. These last few days they have withdrawn further.” Gaines shrugged.

  “The world has been informed of Ubers,” Jondal hissed. Even his voice sounded fragile. “Miami is on alert. Army, Navy, Air Force, Special Forces. They’re all here.”

  “Good,” Loki clacked his teeth together. “They’ll make a fine feast for our Master.”

  “His first beach barbecue,” Gaines grinned.

  “Doom of the world,” Jondal whispered.

  “Miami Beach then,” Loki said, mainly for Jondal’s benefit. “Opposite the Shore Club, at dusk tomorrow. We will teach this sorry world the meaning of misery.”

  He looked at the three women.

  “Right,” he said. “I’ve reserved a hotel room for us.”

  45

  MIAMI, U.S.A

  Kinkade was an eager sixth attendant at the Destroyers’ meeting. The knowledge he gave us, the final revelations of Loki’s plan, would give us the thinnest of edges. It also concluded his part in proceedings.

  Cheyne relayed a transcript of the meeting and Kinkade’s final message via Wi-Fi.

  One day after the saving of the world, I will claim my reward.

  Cheyne looked up at us all, her crooked witch’s nose twitching. “Well, at least he’s confident.”

  I was standing close to her. I cleared my throat. “Do we know the Gargoyles …umm…final decision?” Lucy had commanded me to ask.

  Cheyne’s mouth quirked up in half a smile. “Was it ever in any doubt?”

  Ceriden, to my left, said, “Has to be Nicole.”

  “I’ll tell you after we win.”

  A few hours ago we had landed at Miami International, then taken over a hotel on South Beach. Ceriden had arranged it all, evicting staff and guests alike, using his lofty connections and his inexhaustible wad of greenbacks.

  Now, we were gathered together in the hotel’s biggest conference room. How many did we number? I don’t know. But count everyone from York- and I mean everyone, even Ceriden‘s Head Chef, the hulking vampire called Milo- Eliza and the dozen or so clans under her control; Felicia and maybe thirty Lycan packs; Marian Cleaver- the man I’d heard so much about and who Lysette mischievously nicknamed ‘OMFG’ much to Giles’ chagrin- leading members of SWAT, the FBI, and other acronyms I didn’t even recognize, police chiefs from all over Florida, army personnel, marine commanders, navy SEALS, air-force fly-boys, a bevy of Witches, more Elves than anyone had ever seen together in one place, and Vampires?- well, let’s just say that the cold emanating from their collective bodies was enough to air-condition the entire room.

  To my annoyance I hadn’t had time to talk to Belinda or Lucy since we left York. There had been a glorious waking moment when Belinda lay next to me, her golden body painted by a stroke of dawn, and then a few more glorious moments in the shower, but since then she had kept herself aloof, always involved in something. I remembered how she didn’t want anyone to cry or care for her. I guessed this was how she kept herself focused.

  And Lucy tolerated me, for now. I was still seeking inspiration.

  On a raised dais, before us were Giles, Ceriden, Eldritch, and several official- looking humans. Cheyne sat near them, tapping away at her laptop, relaying proceedings to the Library of Aegis and passing replies on.

  Surprisingly, or perhaps commendably, there wasn’t a hint of disbelief in the room.

  I noted others I knew scattered about the room. Mai stood close to Eliza, the two conversing quietly. Jade sat in one of the few seats, her green-tipped hair marking her amongst the crowd. Cheyne’s personal witch coven filed in at one point, and found a spot behind her, their metal talismans gleaming around their necks. They didn’t remove their deep, black hoods though. I felt uncomfortable; it was as if they were watching me, these faceless, nameless beings of great power. Maybe Cheyne was using them to intimidate the armed forces and senators present.

  Over the course of a few hours two separate groups were assigned: one for the beach defence and one to assault the mall. Names were named. Some of the people I cared about were with me, others were not. It made my heart sink. Reality dug in hard. Training was over. The endgame had arrived, and not everyone was going to make it.

  I squeezed Lucy’s hand. “Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll stick together.”

  Her vague smile made me realise the hopelessness of my words. I was the supposed vanguard, for Christ’s sake. How could I keep an eye on my daughter and save the world?

  “I’m not a kid,” I heard, but the traditional refrain was weak, and lacked her usual gusto. There wasn’t even an old man to top it off and when I turned I saw the sadness in her eyes.

  “My mother’s a bitch,” she spat the last word out.

  And suddenly, in that crowd of hundreds, it was just the two of us.

  Lucy’s lips trembled.

  I laughed. “Oh, yeah,” I drawled. “What a bitch!”

  “Bitch of the century!” Lucy choked back a laugh, or a sob.

  “Miss Bitch, USA!” I laughed out loud.

  “Uber Bitch!” Lucy cracked and laughed and wiped away tears. “The Vampire Bitch From Hell!”

  I hugged her and winced over her shoulder at Eliza. “No offence intended.”

  I framed my daughter’s head with both my hands and smiled into her stormy eyes.

  “After tomorrow,” I said. “We start again.” And I meant it with every single ounce of will that lived in my body.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Ignoring the world-shaping events occurring around us I closed my eyes and hugged my daughter. Sometime later I looked up. People were filing out, chatting, and forming rows in the aisles. I saw Tanya Jordan standing patiently to Lucy’s left.

  “Hi,” I smiled.

  “Hey,” her American drawl was somehow comforting. I liked this woman. She had that lived-in look, enhanced by her glorious blonde hair with its streaks of grey that she never tried to hide, and by the crows-feet around her eyes that crinkled when she smiled. When you saw Tanya Jordan, your day got better.

  “I’m part of the beach-crew too,” she smiled. “Whattya say we stick together, we three? Hmm? And when you’re needed,” she winked at me. “I’ll take care of the munchkin here.”

  Lucy gazed at her happily. So did I.

  “Munchkin?” Lucy said, after a minute.

  46

  NEW BABYLON, U.S.A .- THE MALL

  Marian Cleaver returned to Coconut Grove just after sunset. He had never seen the streets of Miami this deserted. The evening skies hung heavy and low, brooding, pregnant with the promise of disaster. Cleaver found it ironic that the human trash who spent their worthless lives buying the streets one life at a time had already blown town, leaving their so-called territories in the hands of the law officers they despised. The Haitian gangbangers, the Columbian drug runners, the Spics, the Blacks, where were they now? Why weren’t they standing side-by-side with the cops, determined to defend Miami?

  Not likely, Cleaver thought. They’d probably slithered away along the gutters like the pieces of shit they were. He stared out the window as the mall came into view, criss-crossed by fire and shadow. Dark palm trees swayed in a stifling breeze. When Cleaver exited the car his nostrils caught the stench of burning. The mall was still ablaze, its façade a fiery spectacle.

  The command post was buzzing when he got there. No helicopters, because of the missile threat. Cleaver paused on the sidewalk as Chey
ne and Ceriden walked by, then followed Felicia. Now there was one wolf he would like to get howling. Cleaver blinked when a guy who looked like a Californian surfer blocked his path.

  “Cleaver, right?” the man held out a hand, and pumped wildly when Cleaver took it. “Or maybe Cleave? I’m Ken Hamilton. Good to meet you, man.”

  “Ah. So you’re one of the Eight? Surfer Boy, I presume.”

  “I guess you’ve been talking to Lysette.”

  “She's an engaging woman. It appears that you are the only one of the chosen sent to the mall.”

  “Yeah,” Ken said. “Surfer Boy is expendable, it seems.”

  Cleaver hadn’t agreed with the separation of forces either. “I guess they know what they’re doing.”

  “Aegis?” Ken looked incredulous. “Been living with them for over a week, dude. They haven’t got a clue.”

  “Let’s not cast aspersions, Ken.”

  “Who’s casting? The only reason Giles can find his own ass is because he keeps landing on it.”

  “That’s good to know,” Cleaver turned as the noise level ramped up a notch. “Looks like they’re ready.”

  Ken also turned, his blonde locks flying, and faced the mall. “Time to start the assault.”

  Cleaver walked over to Cheyne, who was conversing with members of her coven in the parking lot. It was the first time Cleaver had seen them without their cloaks. Witchcraft, he decided, agreed with the fairer sex. Save the odd crooked nose there wasn’t an ogre among them.

  “What do you want me to do, Cheyne?”

  Cheyne gave him a wanton smile. He noticed how her nose stayed pointing towards the mall when she turned. “Aside from the obvious?” she said after a moment of eye contact. “Kill anything that moves.”

  “So you’re sure this is just a diversion?”

  “My amulet is tingling, Cleaver. What do you think that means?”

  Cleaver shrugged. “You’re attracted to me?”

  “My amulet. I said my amulet,” Cheyne looked around at members of her coven “I did say my amulet, didn’t I?”