The Shadow City (The Demon-Born Trilogy Book 2)

by L. C. Hibbett

  Niamh glanced at Aza and stood back to let her second-in-command access the keyboard attached to the table. Aza moved her fingers quickly across the board, and the images on the screen changed to a combination of CCTV footage and graphs. Aza crossed the room and pointed at one of the data collections of images. “According to our source on the ground, the body count appears to be made up of sixty percent half-blood victims, but almost forty percent of the bodies are of Angelic descent. Two Human bodies complete the body count. There were no Demon-Born found among the dead.”

  Lizzie’s eyes scanned the screens in front of her and her fingers worried at the hem of her shirt. “How do you know it isn’t just some trick? Maybe they put Guardians uniforms on some of the captives to make them appear as though they were Angels.”

  “I can assure you, there has been no error in our deduction.” Niamh tapped sharply on a live stream video image of the garden, where Niamh’s team of Demons were packing up their equipment with such speed and precision that it gave an effect of the video being fast forwarded. “Each member of the team has doctorate level forensic skills, and all of our ground team have been trained by Aza. The information is accurate.”

  The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Aza’s mouth, but it was replaced by a firm grimace when her eyes returned to the wall of screens. “The area shows very little sign of struggle, and none of the bodies display defensive wounds. Identical causes of death have been established for each individual, a single fatal cut to the throat and all its arteries. In the case of several of the smaller bodies, the intensity of the slashing motion severed the heads from their bodies.”

  A strangled cry escaped from my lips. Lizzie pulled one of the chairs out from under the table and offered it to me, but I shook my head and waited for Aza to continue with her report. When she started to speak again, her voice seemed softer than before. “Examination of the skeletal position at the time of death indicates that almost all of the victims were under some form of sedation. However, there are no traces of sedative toxins in the body, which would show the unresponsive state may have been magically induced.”

  Lizzie sat down slowly on the seat she had offered me and pressed her face into her hands for a moment before drawing in a deep breath and facing her sister. “Fine. You win. Tell me what you think is happening.”

  “I don’t believe this is the work of the Council. I suspect this is the work of the Spirit Eaters, the Brothers, as Gabriel called them.” Niamh’s tone was clinical, but her hands were bunched together tightly against her waist.

  Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest. “Makes no sense. If this was one Silent Home, possibly it could be the Spirit Eaters, but the Council ordered the other Silent Homes emptied. It’s too much of a coincidence.” All trace of color drained from Lizzie’s sun-kissed cheeks. “This is our fault; the Council thinks it’s only the Shadow Children who are freeing the captives. They don’t believe the Spirit Eaters exist. This is the Council’s way of punishing us. They would rather see every Halfblood child dead than risk us setting them free.”

  “Then where are the Demon-Born? The rumor of their existence has troubled the Angelic Council more than any other Halfblood or traitor to the Veil.” Niamh snapped open a hidden compartment in the wall revealing rows and rows of leather bound journals. She plucked a dark green book from the top shelf and shut the door to the concealed library with a flick of her wrist. “According to our information, that particular Silent Home should have housed three Demon-Born children; a fourteen-year-old boy, and two five-year-old twin girls. They are not among the dead.”

  Aza grunted in affirmation. I walked to the opposite wall and leaned my back against it for support. “Okay, let’s say this is the work of the Spirit Eaters. They took the Demon-Born for their vile harvest, and they used the rest of the prisoners and the Angels to feed their disgusting Spirit Demon pets. I can believe that. But why cut their throats? If they were feeding the Spirit Demons, then why cut the throats?”

  “To place suspicion at your feet, Grace. They want you, and all the other Demon-Born that the Shadow Children are harboring, and now they’ve made it appear as if the Shadow Children have declared war on the Angelic community. I believe the Spirit Eaters want the Council to do their job for them. They want the Guardians to hunt you down and flush every Demon-Born the Shadow Children are hiding into the open.”

  Niamh’s eyes burned a hole in my skull as she spoke. I opened my mouth to reply and snapped shut again without a word. It made perfect sense. The Shadow Children had been a thorn in the Angelic Council’s side for two thousand years, but this act would catapult them to the status of full-scale terrorists. A potential modern-day assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.

  The look in Lizzie’s eyes mirrored my own creeping dread. She sprang out of the chair and started to pace the floor. “Doesn’t explain how they got the other prisoners moved. Those orders had to have come from the Angelic Council or a senior Guardian.”

  “And you think there is no corruption within the Angelic Council? Who has been hiding those Demon children in the Guardian’s prisons and their homes, ha? If you believe that every Angel is as pure as the fairy tales make them out to be, then you are crazier than your sister.” Aza cocked her chin in the air and looked at Lizzie down her nose. “But you don’t look crazy, and I know Gabriel can see truth. You ask him what he thinks. You’ll see.”

  It was the most I had ever heard Aza say in one go, and I was struck again by the ferocity of her beauty. Warrior. The word echoed in my head. I met Lizzie’s stare, and we both looked at Niamh. “I am more cautious in my judgment than Aza, but there is no denying that there must be a certain level of complicity on the part of the Angels. I have an ear within the High Council, and he is trying to unearth any information regarding this as we speak. So far, he can find no official documentation that orders the clearance or relocation of British Silent Homes today.”

  Niamh held a finger aloft in response to Lizzie’s open mouth. “I am not saying that I believe the Angelic Council endorse the actions of the Spirit Eaters. I trust my source, and I have met with the Head of the Council to discuss the increase in the Spirit Demon attacks many times in recent years, and I believe he was sincere when he told me he didn’t believe there were Demon-Born children. But somebody knows they exist. Somebody has been housing them in Silent Homes for decades. Somebody has been testing them. Someone with power.”

  “You think these Spirit Eaters have high-level Angels on their payroll?” I tugged at my simple, gold bracelet as I waited for Niamh to answer.

  She twitched her right shoulder. “Perhaps. It appears they had two of my own Demons on their payroll, so I can hardly deny the possibility of that being true within the Council also.”

  “Fergus and Lara.” Aza spat the names of the traitorous Demons out with a downturned mouth.

  The air in the room suddenly felt oppressively warm, and I pulled at the collar of my shirt. My lips craved a gulp of the cool, salty air outside. “Then we’re screwed, aren’t we? We can’t beat the Spirit Eaters—they’re always one step ahead of us, and now they have framed us, so the rest of the Angels will believe that we are murdering beasts with Angelic blood on our hands. We might as well paint targets on our backs.”

  Lizzie laid a hand gently on my wrist, but I shook her off. “Stop, Lizzie. What do we do now? Give up and go deeper into hiding? Leave the other Demon-Born and Halflings to rot? It won’t stop the Spirit Eaters coming, they want something, we know they do! We can’t just run away, so what the hell do we do?”

  I spun to face Niamh. “What do you want from us? If you have all the answers, what do you want us to do?”<
br />
  “I want you to go to the Angelic High Council.” Niamh’s voice was cold enough to freeze my blood.

  Lizzie grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her. Her fingers squeezed around my ring finger with three determined pulses. A silent signal—get us out of here. She glowered at her sister. “What did you say, Niamh?”

  I forced myself to keep breathing, drawing the air into my lungs through my teeth and releasing it slowly as I thrust my energy beyond myself, beyond the barely recognizable cottage, and across space.

  Niamh’s voice echoed at the edges of consciousness. “You need to present yourselves to the High Council. The Shadow Children cannot fight this battle alone. If you approach the Angelic Council first and try to make a case, perhaps they will believe you are not responsible for slaughtering those Guardians. I am going to the Angelical Council today to report my findings. You can tell the Shadow Children they have one hour to decide—come to the Shadow City as my guest and open a dialogue with the Angelic High Council on what can be done or be taken as prisoners. One way or another, I will change what has been foretold, Elizabeth.”

  In a blaze of energy, I connected with my target and the sweet taste of relief flooded through my veins. I wrapped my fingers around Lizzie’s hand as Sam’s power enveloped me. Niamh stared calmly into my face as Lizzie and I were yanked from the room and across the ocean. Her final words echoed in my ears. “Nicely done, Seeker. Tell the Reaper I said hello.”

  Chapter Ten

  Cat slammed the small backpack onto my bed in a frustrated attempt to crush another set of clothes inside. Dawn pressed my pillow against her mouth to hide her grin, and I stifled a snicker with the back of my hand.

  Cat blew a stray lock of silky, copper hair out of her face and shot me a black look. My smirk faded. “You don’t need to pack my bag, Cat. We aren’t going to be staying anyway. We’re meeting the Angelic Council, and then Lizzie’s sister is going to get us straight back.”

  “Straight back.” Cat snatched the backpack away from my reaching fingers and marched over to my dressing table. “The London Demons got you straight back the last time, alright. Straight into the mouths of a pack of Spirit Demons, more like.”

  I massaged my temples. “Cat, stop it. That was over a year ago, and I wasn’t even badly hurt. Gabriel always said somebody was watching over me anyway, I was never in danger of—”

  “Gabriel! Don’t talk to me about bloody Gabriel!” Cat wielded a bottle of moisturizer like it was a weapon. “I can’t believe he voted to meet with the High Council. After everything he promised us, he volunteers to waddle himself into the jaws of hell with all of you following him like little ducklings.”

  I scrunched my nose at the ludicrous suggestion that Gabriel would waddle anywhere. Cat crushed the little bottle of lotion into the front pocket of the bag and swiped it shut.  “Emmanuel should never have agreed to let you go. You didn’t see any of the other Master’s offering themselves to the mission, did you? No, no. Victoria will be far too busy pruning her roses and eating cucumber sandwiches, or whatever other bull they get up to in London. And God only knows what that little rat-faced master from Germany is planning, he was furious that the Shadow Children would even consider approaching the Council.”

  I snorted. “Rat face. That’s brilliant. I had been going with a weasel face, but you’re totally right—he is a bona fide rat face. All the beautiful German men and we get a rodent.”

  Cat met my eye for a second and I wiggled my eyebrows, but instead of returning my smile her face crumpled, and she twisted away from me to stare at the wall. I crawled across the bed and wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder. Cat pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not funny, Grace. Nothing about this is funny.”

  “I have to go, Cat. The Angelic Council has only agreed to grant us safe passage through the Shadow City if they get to meet a Demon-Born child. I’m the obvious choice—you and Cain need to stay with Dawn, Pryia is injured—I have to go.” I gave her a forced smile as I raised one shoulder.

  Cat wiped her hand over her face. “I don’t see why anyone has to go. The High Council are liars, we are doing okay—”

  “No, we aren’t, Cat. We aren’t. They’re closing in on us. If something doesn’t change soon, the Spirit Eaters are going to catch us all in their net. If this could save my family, I have a right to try.” I directed my words at the ground.

  Cat contorted her body so that she could see my face. “Sam is going, isn’t that enough? He won’t be alone, Grace. Emmanuel, Lizzie, and Gabriel have already volunteered to go. There’s no reason for you, Brandon, and Megan to go with them. At least Jasmine has the sense to stay here.”

  “Jasmine’s only staying because she wouldn’t leave Elijah behind on his own.” I cringed at the surly sound in my voice and bit down on my lip. “Please don’t be angry with me, Cat.”

  “I’m not mad at you, I just don’t want to see you follow Sam into a trap.” I pursed my lips and tried to pull away from Cat, but her small hands gripped my shoulders with surprising strength. “I love Sam, but he’s a troubled boy, Grace. He’s getting worse. Cain said he withdrew entirely when their half of the cell was sent to Russia, and he refuses to discuss what happened on that mission in Moscow—who knows how he will react once the news that Lydia and Frank are actually gone sinks in. I understand that you’ve feelings for him, and sometimes when we are attracted to somebody physically—”

  Cat was distracted by the sound of a small body shuffling closer to us, and she stared at her daughter as if suddenly remembering that she was in the room. “Dawn, will you please run down to my bedroom and grab my perfume?”

  Dawn squinted at her mother. “Why would Grace need perfume in the Shadow City?”

  “To spray on beautiful little girls who don’t do what their mom asks them to do.” Cat narrowed her eyes and tipped her head in the direction of the door. Dawn slid off the bed and out the door with a smile playing on her lips. I said a silent prayer that she’d leave the door into the corridor open so that Cat couldn't continue her lecture, but I was out of luck.

  “Sometimes, when we have physical feelings for somebody, it clouds our judgment—”

  “Oh my God, I’m begging you to stop this conversation. And stop using the words physical attraction, please! This is hideous. You don’t need to worry about it anyway, Sam is finished with me. I was going to break it off anyway, except he wouldn’t answer my messages. It’s a stupid time to be thinking about relationships, I just want to focus on my training and fighting the Spirit Eaters.” My voice was a slightly higher pitch than normal. I scrubbed at a fleck of dirt on my shirt.

  Cat stroked my hair away from my face. “Oh, Gracie, I’m sorry, but I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t relieved. I worry for you. Sam, the missions, your power—if Eve were here she would never let you risk yourself like this.”

  “Yeah, well, she isn’t here, is she?” I snatched the backpack with one hand and shoved myself away from the bed. The door swung open revealing Dawn and a bottle of Cat’s perfume. I stepped past Dawn onto the corridor and ruffled her hair. “I don’t need that perfume, after all, kiddo. You should keep it and spray it on your mother every time she bosses anyone around. That should keep her smelling like roses twenty-four hours a day.”

  Dawn opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Emmanuel’s arrival. Megan and Lucas were with him. Cat emerged from my bedroom and stood at my shoulder. She tapped Lucas’s bag. “I see we have another hero.”

  Cat’s tone was playful, but tightness around her mouth gave away her true feelings. Lucas wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear. Cat pressed her face into his shoulder before pulling away from him. I ran a curious eye over both of their faces.

  Emmanuel led the
way down to open staircase and out into the garden. Sam, Brandon, and Gabriel were already standing beside an open slip. Lizzie stood a few feet from them, locked in an embrace with Mathas. I averted my eyes from the public display of affection. Even though Mathas was physically as beautiful and youthful as Lizzie, there was something about the way he kissed her that always reminded me of a lion devouring its prey—like he might swallow her whole.

  Jasmine appeared around the side of the building and stopped a few meters short of our motley crew. I made my way over to her. She yanked at the straining buckle on my bag. “You planning on leaving us for good?”

  I patted my shoulder strap. “Cat channeled her frustration into packing my stuff. Training gear, cosmetics, a wholly unnecessary chastity belt.”

  “Chastity belt?” Jasmine grinned, and for a second she looked like the girl that I remembered, instead of a gray shadow of herself. Her eyes slid over my shoulder and locked on Sam’s back. Her smile melted away. “I always said Cat had brains.”

  I chewed on the side of my thumb and silence fell between us like a glass wall. Lizzie broke away from her partner and strode onto the viewing bay. “Mathas made contact with Niamh. She’s going to meet us in the Shadow City, the High Council have granted us an audience and a forty-eight hour stay of goodwill.”

  “Meaning that they won’t kill us for at least two days, right?” Brandon asked Lizzie. She returned his lopsided grin, and he gave her a thumbs-up. “Good. I have experiments to finish, new skills to master, data to collect—dying this week would be über inconvenient.”

  Lucas stared down at his feet, and Megan pulled closer to him, pressing his shoulder roughly the way she did with her younger brother, Mark. Brandon flinched at his own insensitivity and shot me a pleading glance. I tucked my thumbs under the shoulder straps of my backpack and faced Emmanuel and Lizzie. “We should probably hit the road, Aza isn’t the kind of woman I want to keep waiting. I’m pretty confident she could kick my ass.”