Savior of Midnight_an Urban Fantasy Novel

by Debbie Cassidy

  What the heck were they talking about? “Rewind please. What is this Genesis?”

  “Fanatics,” Abigor drawled. “Insane scientists who believed that winged were merely a mutation in human evolution. They believed that we existed in hiding. That we were a subgroup of humanity. The founder, Zachary Kelter, was a neph. Outside Midnight, the humans are unaware of neph and winged existence and Zachary took advantage of this. He wanted to be winged. He believed that he deserved to be more than a half blood, that being winged was somehow his right. He captured and murdered two winged to gain the genetic data.”

  “Wait. How long ago was this? Did they even have that kind of technology then?”

  The Black Wings exchanged glances, but it was Malphas that answered. “The outside world is very different to Arcadia, Serenity.”

  More advanced, it seemed. “Did he manage to isolate the strands of DNA he needed?”

  Abigor replied, “Our blood degrades rapidly once outside of our bodies, so probably not, but we couldn’t take any chances. Other nephs were beginning to take notice of his work, and if he somehow succeeded, then more would try to replicate his results, maybe even band with him, and we couldn’t have that. Being winged isn’t something you choose, it’s something you are. So we stopped him.”

  “Then why does Abbadon look like he’s about to pass out?”

  Abbadon shot me a flat look. “Because we thought we’d found all his facilities. We believed we’d wiped his memory and taken away his desire to become one of us. We were certain we’d eliminated the threat. But if this is one of his facilities, if Asher has a hold of it, then goodness only knows what he’s found to use against us.”

  Shit.

  “Cassie?” Bane asked. “Any thoughts?”

  He was asking her if her banshee instincts were telling her anything, and all eyes were suddenly on her.

  “Aside from a horrible feeling of dread?” Cassie asked with a wry smile and a shrug. “Recently, I always have a feeling of dread. We’re surrounded by scenarios of danger, and it’s impossible to pinpoint where the worst of it will strike.”

  Bane nodded slowly.

  “We need to send in one small team to scope the place out,” Xavier said, getting us back on track. “They can get a lay of the land and then call in reinforcements as they see fit. The rest can be stationed strategically above the bunker.”

  It was a good plan. “Mental maps are my thing. I’ll go in.”

  “I have a drone we can use,” Rivers said. “It’s silent and small, the size of a small insect. It can scope ahead.”

  “We’ll come with you,” Bane said.

  There was no need to ask who he meant by we. The guys and I were a unit, had been even before the anchoring, except now it just felt official. The silver threads linking us pulsed as if in agreement.

  “I can come too,” Ambrosius said.

  “No,” Xavier said. “He’ll sense you. You need to hold off until the last minute. When our troops go in, when Asher is overwhelmed, that’s when you need to make your move.”

  “We’ll come with you,” Gregory said. “The scoping will be faster with two small units. And if Rivers has two of those machines?”

  “I do,” Rivers said.

  “Then it’s a plan.”

  “We go in, smoke them out, and take them down,” Bane said.

  Oleander entered the lounge carrying a large, rolled-up piece of paper. “If you’re going to plan your attack, you’re going to need a map of the area.”

  Chapter 17

  The old water mill had been constructed forty years ago to try and harness the power of the ocean. The venture hadn’t proven very lucrative and so the endeavor had been abandoned after barely a year of operation, but the building remained. It sat in its tiny inlet like a somber shadow reflecting on its glory days and wondering what went wrong. Honestly, I had no idea, and frankly didn’t care. But the bleak atmosphere sent a chill of foreboding washing over me. It seeped into my skin and penetrated my bones. Bad shit was about to go down, and we were going to be in the center of it.

  We fanned out, searching for any access to the underground bunker Adam had seen in the neph’s memories. Ryker and Bane were with me as we circled the decrepit building, mindful of the rubble left behind by the unenthusiastic clean-up crew of long past. An old weather shelter greeted us behind the mill, one of its heavy doors flung open to showcase the inky darkness beyond. Come in if you dare, that darkness taunted. Okay, so there was no taunting, but it sure felt as if there should be.

  “This looks promising,” Ryker said.

  Bane took the lead, diving into the pitch black. His Black Wing preternatural senses probably adjusted immediately to the serious lack of light. “It’s empty,” he called up. “Just a few old supplies and plenty of dust.”

  Ryker went down next. “Watch the third step, it’s weak,” he warned me.

  I skipped the dodgy step and landed lightly on the ground. It was dry and oddly warm in the shelter. My night vision adjusted to the varying shades of black, and I slowly made out my surroundings. Rolled-up sleeping bags, an old oil lamp, a crate containing what looked to be tinned food, and a small stack of battered board games.

  “Whose shelter is this?”

  “An employee shelter, no doubt,” Bane supplied. “The mill was manned around the clock by skeleton staff back in the day.”

  The image of actual skeletons popped into my head, but I pushed it away and cursed my brain’s need to get literal right at this moment.

  “This was a bust.” Ryker headed back to the steps.

  I turned to follow, but my gaze snagged on something out of place. A hook. A lone hook with nothing on it. Maybe it was meant for a coat, maybe for a bag, but my gut walked me toward it anyway. It made me reach up, grip it, and pull. With a shudder and a sigh, the wall swung open to reveal a short corridor and a metal door marked with the word Genesis. The corridor was tinged green from the strange glowing algae that clung to the wall. Gross.

  “Motherfucker,” Bane cursed softly.

  “Well, I think we found our bunker,” Ryker said.

  Yep, we certainly had.

  ***

  Our mini army was in place above ground ready to charge in, to block, to intercept and do whatever it took to win this thing. The aim was to keep casualties to a minimum—both the shades’ and ours. The fact that only I could actually kill the shades meant that this was an exercise in disrupting Asher’s forces and manipulating them into spreading themselves too thin. This whole exercise was an elaborate distraction for our real goal—getting Ambrosius into Asher for the kill. And Adamah? Well, I’d just have to convince him to back down and forget about saving Asher, something I’d have to wing. Once this was over, we needed to bring the shades left without a leader onto our side, we needed to be able to build bridges, and minimizing casualties would be a mark in our favor when talking peace.

  Ambrosius was on the other end of a radio with Cassie. Our job was to smoke out the hive and drive the shades above ground, making sure that Asher stayed below, trapped, where Ambrosius could get to him. Bane would give the attack order as soon as we were ready.

  It was showtime.

  Bane slid the rectangular chip into the slot by the door. There was a low hiss, and then the snakes untwined and the door opened with a click. The metal was several inches thick, and Bane had to push hard to open it fully. The scrape of metal on cement grated but we were granted admission. The air beyond drifted out to tickle my nostrils. It smelled musty and old. My scalp prickled with a new awareness.

  “Something’s off,” Orin said.

  Ryker snorted softly. “Yeah, we’re headed into an underground bunker which used to be owned by a fanatical group of scientists.”

  “Quiet,” Bane said softly. “We talk only when absolutely necessary.”

  We stepped into the corridor beyond, and it lit up with tube lights fixed high up on the smooth walls. There was a rumble and then cool, fresh air replaced
the musty stuff. It teased the hairs on the nape of my neck.

  Our presence had been registered.

  There was no hiding now ... except ... surely if this bunker was in use then the lights and the air-conditioning would have already been on? A horrific realization dawned, and I turned and pushed past Ryker to lunge for the door, but it was already sliding shut.

  The click and hiss were like a death knell.

  Gregory cursed under his breath.

  “Shit!” Bane ran a hand over his head.

  Xavier pressed his hand against the metal then pulled back and slammed his fist against it.

  The guys exchanged glances. They’d all come to the same conclusion as me. The bunker was a fucking trap. Asher wasn’t here. The memories Adam had seen must have been planted there somehow. Shit, shit, shit.

  “He played us.” Xavier confirmed my thoughts. “He sent those nephs to attack Respite knowing we’d counter. I doubt those nephs even knew he was using them as cannon fodder.”

  “But what about the memories?” Gregory asked. “Adam read the neph’s memories, he saw this place.”

  Xavier shook his head. “I don’t know. Asher has Merlin’s power now. He could have planted those memories in the nephs’ minds in the hope we’d capture one, interrogate him, and end up here.”

  We’d captured his shades before. He’d been banking on us doing it again, but why? “Why send us to an empty bunker?”

  “What if it isn’t empty,” Rivers said ominously.

  “But the lights and the air just came on,” Ryker countered.

  “Yes. Us entering activated the life support systems,” Rivers said. “But what if it also activated something else?”

  Gregory lifted his head and inhaled deeply. “I can smell no warm-blooded creature.”

  “I didn’t say it was warm-blooded.”

  Something that didn’t require life support? I glanced at Bane to see the same thought flit across his face.

  Rivers held his hand out to Bane. “Where’s the chip? We need to get out of here. If this is a trap, then the others above ground are sitting ducks.”

  “Fuck,” Xavier exclaimed. “Asher probably had his scouts watching us while we traipsed about. He’s probably closing in right now.”

  He’d gotten rid of some of the main players by locking us down here, and now he was ready to pick off the rest; after all, we were all that was standing between him and his goal of Arcadia domination.

  Bane handed Rivers the key but there was nowhere to insert it. This side of the door was smooth, no panel, no handles. Nothing. It looked like this was an entrance only.

  How thick was the door? I shoved a dagger into the metal; it slid in easily, but the metal was too thick to cut a hole out. “My daggers won’t work. The damned thing is way too thick.”

  Ryker fiddled with his radio, trying to get a signal, but the thing was dead, not even static. Shit. How reinforced was this place?

  “The others will wonder why they can’t get hold of us. They’ll figure out something is wrong. They’ll send someone to look for us,” Xavier said.

  “Yeah, but they won’t be able to get in without the damned chip.” Rivers held up the offensive piece of tech.

  It was too late. “No one is coming. They’ll have their hands full sooner rather than later. We’re on our own with whatever is down here.”

  “If there’s a way in, then there’s a way out,” Orin said. “We’re just going to have to find it.”

  God, I hoped he was right.

  Rivers reached into his pocket and extracted the drone, which looked like a beetle. He launched it into the air and it sprouted wings and hovered silently above us. Next, he pulled out a tiny flat-screen device and flicked it on. The monitor lit up and a picture of the corridor, courtesy of the flying beetle, appeared. The beetle flew off, and we followed.

  We walked in silent vigilance. The corridor was barren. No doors, no exits, no marks, and then the beetle came to a stop at an intersection.

  “We’ll head this way,” Gregory said, pointing right. “You got another drone?”

  Rivers activated a second drone and handed Gregory a second monitor. “You see something bad, you holler.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry, we’ll howl.” Gregory grinned, showcasing his lethal Lupin teeth, and then he and his pack of five loped off to the right, their powerful, naked, hairy bodies vanishing round a bend. Rivers led us left. His broad back rippled beneath the tight black Protectorate shirt he was wearing. The lights grew dimmer here, and the drone switched to night vision view to accommodate for the lack of illumination. Rivers kept his gaze on the monitor, the soft light radiating from it illuminating his cutthroat face. Wait, was this Rivers or Reaper? And did it even matter?

  “There’s a door up ahead,” Rivers said. “Restricted.”

  That was never good.

  We reached the door, and Bane used the chip to gain entry to the room beyond. The chamber was bathed in a crimson glow, but it was clear from the equipment that it was some kind of laboratory, and smack bang in the center were rows of metal monsters carefully hooked and hung onto racks. Huge, at least seven feet tall, the machines looked humanoid but their sinews were thick metal rods and silver piping.

  “What the fuck are these?” Bane asked. He stepped closer to one of the machines. “Messiah,” he read. “What the fuck was Zachary up to with these?”

  There were ten machines in the lab, but there should have been more, because there were ten empty slots. “There are some missing.”

  “Or maybe crazy Zach just never got round to building any more?” Orin suggested hopefully.

  Rivers was by the dead monitors lining the wall to our left. “Maybe if we switch these on then we can figure out what we’re dealing with.”

  “Or maybe we should just get the hell out of here,” Ryker suggested. “Find an exit and get topside.”

  “Ryker’s right,” Bane said. “These things aren’t our concern.” He patted the silent machine. “We need to join the others above ground. They’re probably under attack right now.”

  The air shimmered in front of me and Death appeared, his face tight with the burden of carrying bad news. “It’s a trap, we’re surrounded,” he said. His gaze slipped past me to the machines snug in their little alcoves. “Oh, fuck.” He took a step back. “You need to get out of here. Now!”

  His panic was like a contagion. It rippled through the room, evident in the tightening of muscles and the acceleration of breath.

  “Help us find an exit,” Bane instructed.

  We followed Death across the lab to another door marked Exit.

  “We need to get Gregory too,” Xavier pointed out.

  “Once we find an exit, I will lead Gregory and his Lupin to it,” Death said, but his tone wasn’t convincing and alarm bells were going off in my head.

  I reached for his arm. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  Ignoring me, Death reached out to press the big red button to release the lock on the doors, but before he could make contact, the monitors to our left flared to life and the whirr of machinery filled the room.

  Death slammed his hand onto the red button. “Move. Now.” There was no questioning that tone.

  We rushed through the door and it slammed shut behind us, shuddering with the impact of one of the machines as it slammed into the thick metal. Through the reinforced glass, I caught a glimpse of its face, perfectly androgynous and serene, and then it pulled back its fist and smashed it into the glass. The whole panel splintered. Death grabbed my hand and we ran.

  “What the fuck is that thing?” Bane asked.

  “Killing machines,” Death said as we hurtled down a curving corridor. “The scientist guy must have used the DNA he collected to build a machine to decimate the winged.”

  “But he wanted to be winged,” Orin said.

  “Maybe this was his back-up plan in case he failed,” Rivers huffed.

  The clank of metal scraping on tile grew cl
oser as the machines gained on us. Fuck, we needed an exit, right now. Doors appeared in the corridor on either side of us, and Bane shouldered his way into the nearest one. We piled in after him, and he slammed it shut, engaging the lock. It wouldn’t hold the machines for long, but it gave us a moment to catch our breath. The air hissed and then we were blasted with some kind of chemical. It dried quickly, leaving me feeling clinically clean. This was another tech lab and Rivers was already tapping away at the keyboards. The drone ...

  “Where’s the drone?”

  Rivers chucked the tiny monitor at me. I caught it easily. The drone was outside the door, and fucking hell, so were the machines, five of them ... Where were the other five?

  “What’s the status out there, Serenity?” Rivers asked.

  The machines had come to a standstill outside our door. They remained stationary for a long beat, and then one of them, the larger one, with a blue band on its shoulder, tilted its chin. Its eyes blazed pure white, and then it set off down the corridor. The others clicked and clacked into motion and followed.

  “I don’t get it ... they just left.”

  “I do,” Rivers said. “That shit that just coated us is a biochemical masking agent. This room seems to be a safe room just in case there’s a fault with the Messiah. According to these records, there are several more rooms dotted around the facility. The masking agent should last a couple of hours.”

  “So, they can’t detect us?”

  “It would seem so.” He pulled up another screen with data and words, so many words, but the neph was a fast reader, his eyes scanning the squiggles at super speed. This was definitely my Rivers, not the Reaper. “The Messiah is programmed to attack any creature with winged DNA.”

  “So, basically any neph?” Bane said.

  “Yes. They carry a fast-acting virus that can break down the winged DNA code. It essentially unravels them, reducing them to nothing. No DNA means no RNA. It means that no polypeptides, proteins, or enzymes will be produced, and cells can’t function like that. This virus speeds everything up, and in a matter of seconds, it’s all over.”