Anger, frustration, fury all spliced through his body. More than that though, he was afraid. Because he knew Laura would never risk hurting Erebus if the Wicked could kill him in turn. She would never allow him to give up his life for hers.
He twisted his head to the side in time to see Laura dragged backwards into the red swirling portal, a look of fear and sadness on her face. Her eyes were locked on his, and he saw the tears streaming from them. She reached out a hand, and his heart broke.
There was a thump from above, and suddenly Grace was there, driving her sword into one of the Wicked’s chest. Logan emerged too, taking out the other. Drew scrambled to his feet, taking off at a sprint, pushing himself to run faster and faster, his own hand reaching out to grasp Laura’s. But Laura disappeared into the portal before he could grasp her fingers. The red of the portal closed up a second later, and he dove straight through the air, missing it completely.
Laura was gone. Erebus had taken her, just like that.
Chapter Eighteen
Heartbreaking Decisions
Laura thrashed against the constraints and a scream tore from her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and dug deep within herself, searching for her power, desperate to draw it to the surface and use it against Erebus.
‘Now, now,’ Erebus drawled calmly.
Laura bit back another scream, that final memory of Drew struggling to free himself from the Wicked still stuck in her mind. She forced her eyes open, seeing the room around her. She was bound to a stone bench, iron cuffs around her arms and legs. Erebus stood at her side, and the walls around her were made of dirt and stone. She was underground. Again.
A door behind Erebus opened, and she saw him turn, allowing her to watch the dark skinned Witch that entered. Something flickered in her eye at the sight of Laura, and a sinister smile grew large on her lips.
Not a Witch, Laura realised. A sorcerer.
‘How?’ Erebus asked for her, registering the shock on Laura’s face as she paused momentarily in her flaying.
‘The Wicked located her for me. It seems she is rather loyal to my cause,’ he explained. Then, to the Sorcerer: ‘Come in Theresa. Please, we have no time to waste.’
The Sorcerer nodded and shut the door behind her, coming to stand beside the two of them. She had the mark, she must have. Why else would Erebus waste time bringing her there?
Laura again dug deep within herself, searching desperately for her powers. The moment Erebus’s had dragged her through the portal, she’d lost a grip on her gift, and it had disappeared deep down within. She’d used much of it up in the battle, and so what was left until it restored itself was so small and well-hidden that Laura couldn’t grasp it with her mind and drag it up to save herself.
‘Dear girl. Don’t be frightened. I promise, I will take great care of your power,’ Erebus said, his dark eyes boring down into hers.
Laura was afraid. She was truly afraid. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She couldn’t use her power to free herself and escape. If Erebus’s soul was placed in her body, it would push hers out. She would no longer… be. It couldn’t end like that. It just couldn’t! The God’s had all said she had much yet to do. That her story was not over. Surely they didn’t mean she would help Erebus succeed?
She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
Laura started screaming and wrestling against her bounds again, forcing the iron cuffs to strain against her movements. She threw her body about so hard that she knew she’d have bruises. But she didn’t care. She would go down fighting if it was the last thing she did.
‘Stop it,’ Erebus growled at her.
Laura only fought harder.
‘Stop!’
Laura didn’t.
‘Bring him in,’ Erebus barked to someone.
The door opened and closed again, and suddenly someone appeared at the end of the stone bed. He was skin and bone, his hair and beard long and unkempt, his face bruised and battered, his lips dry, his eyes dull, his clothes rags.
Kane looked defeated as he stared at her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he wept, tears trailing down through the grime on his cheeks.
A Wicked materialized, pressing a gun to his temple, and Laura stilled. Kane was terrified, Laura could see that. He’d done all he could. He’d been the one to help save Cara, and thus Laura’s life. He’d been the one to track down Sorcerers, informants, God’s, Angels, anyone and everyone he could in order to bring Laura into the world. He’d risked his life time and time again, refusing to allow Erebus take Laura’s power. He’d poisoned himself in attempt to end his life so Erebus couldn’t use him. And clearly, he’d suffered months of torture, refusing to grant Erebus his desire – Laura’s gift. So Laura calmed herself, knowing she couldn’t, she wouldn’t allow him anymore pain. She would never be angry with Kane. He’d done so much; too much, already. He deserved his freedom.
‘Ah. Good girl,’ Erebus crooned.
Laura wanted to yell, to shout, to cry.
‘Now, while she’s agreeable,’ Erebus spat out, and the Sorcerer stepped towards her.
Laura scooted as far away as she could but the cuffs on her wrists and ankles held her in place. A sob escaped her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
The Sorcerer placed a hand on her upper arm and began speaking in a low voice. Laura kept her eyes shut, refusing to look, to see. She didn’t want to watch it happen. Instead, she delved deep within, drawing up a memory. Her mother, smiling as Laura danced through the field, chasing after the butterflies. Her father laughing as she attempted to catch one and fell on her face. Both her parents picking her up and brushing her off and then helping her chase the butterflies.
Something prickled against her skin, and a flash of light could be seen against the lids of her eyes.
She forced herself further, recalling her time with Drew, as he sat down with her and allowed her to talk of her fears, her thoughts. She remembered his kindness as he read her book with her.
Then more memories passed by, talking with Gemma about the possibility of still having a family; laughing with Grace and Logan as the three of them trained together; grinning at Caspian as he attempted to replicate her trick of sticking a spoon to her nose; Stella and Leo sitting with her, telling her all about the Spirit World and teaching her of their history.
She felt a pain stab her in the heart, spear through her so hard that she cried out. But no sound emerged. She tried again, and again. She tried to open her eyes. She tried to move. Nothing happened. All she knew was blackness and pain.
Then, her eyes did open, but not at her own order. The Sorcerer was peering down into her face.
‘Erebus?’ She asked.
Laura tried to answer, but, nothing.
Then, a word left her lips, in her voice. A word that was dark and grating against her vocal cords.
‘Yes.’
The cuffs were released, and Laura’s body sat up. She wanted to scream. She knew what was happening. Erebus’s soul was inside her body. But so was hers.
It didn’t make sense. How could she still be in her own body?
You’re part angel. A little voice whispered to her.
Part angel. It hit her, the reason she was still there. Angels were made to possess those on the brink of death, helping them to survive. Her body wasn’t on the brink of death, she knew that, but it must have had something to do with the fact that she had part of an Angel’s soul within hers that was allowing her to stay.
Erebus flexed her hands, her arms, her wrists. She felt every movement, was conscious of every step. It was a sickening feeling, having him in control while she floated in some limbo in her own mind.
‘How do you feel?’ The Sorcerer asked.
Erebus turned Laura’s head and looked at the Sorcerer. Laura saw then that Robin’s body had been left, discarded on the ground. As if it were nothing. As if it had never been anything to Erebus but something to use.
Laura felt sick, but not it the same kind of way she
usually would. It was a feeling within her mind, or whatever state she was in. A sickness that could be felt in her soul, not in her stomach.
Erebus again met the Sorcerer’s gaze, who still stared at him, awaiting his response. Erebus clenched and unclenched Laura’s fist.
‘How do I use this power?’ He asked, ignoring her question all together.
The Sorcerer’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Erebus sighed.
‘I… I’ve never encountered anyone with her power. I don’t know how you access it or wield it. I’m sorry.’
Laura was relieved. She’d known that anyway, but hearing it meant something to her. It meant that even though he had her power, he would never completely know how to use it. Unless he found out about Megan and the other Casters… Laura quickly shut that line of thought down. She didn’t know if Erebus knew she was still there. Could he hear her thoughts? She had to be careful.
Erebus stalked across the cave, and Laura realised he was heading towards Kane.
The Wizard was blubbering and crying, barely able to hold himself upright.
‘She’s dead. It’s no use crying over it,’ the Wicked holding him snapped.
‘Don’t bother,’ said Erebus.
He reached for the gun still pressed to Kane’s head and took it. Then, to Laura’s horror, he pointed it at the space between Kane’s eyes.
Kane looked up at Erebus through his tears.
‘You won’t win,’ he croaked.
Erebus pulled the trigger.
Laura started screaming. No voice emerged from her lips, but in her mind she was screaming and screaming and screaming. She wanted to un-see it. She wanted to turn away. She wanted to close her eyes. She could do none of that. All she could do was watch as Kane slumped to the ground, his blood and brains splattered across the stone wall behind him.
‘Come. We must address what’s left of my following,’ Erebus said.
Laura wanted to cry. She couldn’t. What she could do, however, was think. And in thinking, she recognised something. She could not hear Erebus’s conscious. She could not hear the little voice inside his head that spoke and thought like she did. Which meant that if she couldn’t hear him, then he couldn’t hear her. They were in the same body, but in separate souls.
Slowly, an idea began to form in Laura’s mind. An idea to defeat Erebus once and for all.
~
Drew’s face was in his hands as he told the others of what happened. He could barely speak. Could barely think. But through the pain and loss, he knew one thing. That if Erebus had transferred his soul into Laura’s body, she would not want him to use her power.
She would rather die than allow him to hurt anyone with her gift. She had fought so hard in the war to try and stop him. She would not want them to let him succeed so close to the end.
Which meant she would want someone to kill him. To kill her. Drew knew that had to be him. It could be no one else. He would have to stop Erebus, and the only way to do that, would be if he killed them both.
Part Three:
The Angel
Not everyone can be a hero,
but the selfless come close.
Chapter Nineteen
Emerge Anew
Erebus stepped from the shadows, meeting the stare of three Wicked Guards. Their eyes widened in shock, and Erebus’s fingers ached to slap sense into them. For a moment, he almost did, but an instant later he was clenching his fist instead, holding it at his side.
‘We’ve rallied everyone nearby. Anyone else loyal to you are still fighting. It’s chaos out there on the battle fields,’ one of the Witches told him.
Erebus granted them all a sinister smile. ‘Of course it is. The Devils and Gods are at war.’
The Witch looked as though she were going to say more, but she seemed to think better of it and shut her mouth.
Erebus narrowed his gaze at her. ‘Spit it out.’
The Witches eyes darted to his then away again. She was wringing her fingers nervously in front of her and that seething rage from within Erebus’s soul simmered to the surface. He took a half step towards her and she flinched.
‘We’ve heard from a few Wicked now that there are… well, other Enchanted who seem to be able to kill without actually wielding a weapon.’
‘Like the girl,’ another Witch added quickly.
The rage was bubbling, close to uncontrollable. ‘You mean, like me. The girl no longer lives.’
The Witches eyes opened wide and she staggered a step back. ‘Of course, sorry sir. Or... um… Madam?’
Erebus struck her with his fist. Hard. The Witch cried out, hands flying to her bleeding and broken nose. Her eyes prickled with tears and blood dripped through her fingers.
‘So, you believe that there are others with such power?’ Erebus asked, ignoring the injured Witch.
‘We’re not sure. The accounts of the incidents only describe some Enchanted as having the ability to attack their opponent without having to be near them. But every time we send out inquiries we receive no response. Whoever they are, there appears to be no survivors of their attacks.’
‘And therefore no witnesses,’ the third Wicked, a middle-aged Wizard, added, speaking for the first time. He stepped forward past the still cowering Witch, who had covered her face with part of her shirt in attempt to stem the bleeding. ‘We’ve also heard that strange animals seem to be out there fighting with the Enchanted. Nothing like we’ve ever seen before, and definitely not Enchanted Animals either. There are few witness accounts for them as well.’
Erebus almost sighed. What was the point of telling him all that information if they had no real facts to back it up?
‘The Mariadies have also come out of hiding. From what we’ve heard, they have joined their old allies in battle.’
That piqued Erebus’s interest. Despite never having met them, for he’d been a mere soul in a box during their time, he still knew the stories of them. The Mariadies had once been the greatest warriors the Enchanted had ever seen. Due to their separate beliefs and customs, though, the Enchanted were never quite able to accept them, and so had shunned them. Then, one night, a group of Wicked had snuck up on them and had managed to slaughter over half of their tribe before they’d awoken and engaged in battle. There had been no warning from the Enchanted, despite the fact that they had known a Wicked Group were lurking nearby the Mariadies camp.
That had cut the ties between the two for good. Since then, the Mariadies had retreated to the Mountains, as he himself often did. He’d heard whispers of them over the years, brief mentions of them in the messages passed through to him, however he had never quite believed that they still lived. He’d assumed that they had died off, the last few of their kind keeping to themselves in the mountains. It appeared as though he had been wrong.
How the Enchanted had convinced them to fight for their kind again, Erebus was curious about.
‘Sir?’ The Wizard asked again, and Erebus raised his eyes.
‘What?’ He snapped.
‘There’s, ah… one other thing.’
Erebus crossed his arms. Her arms. It was hard attempting to grow used to being in a female body.
‘There… um… there seem to be more and more Wicked changing sides,’ the Wizard told him, the two Witches stepping a little further behind him at the news.
Erebus dug his nails into his arms, forcing the anger in.
‘What do you mean? For what reason? Do they not see the benefits I can give them?’
The Wizard was clearly afraid of answering him, and Erebus dropped his arms, stepping towards him, a look of menace on his face. That rage was there again, flooding his veins, taking over his rational mind.
‘They… they claim that because you’ve never been on the battle field with them… well, they think you’re leaving them to do your dirty work. They’ve been convinced by that stupid boy that the world you plan to create won’t be better for them. They think they have more of a chance at peace i
f they fight with the Enchanted and convince them they aren’t… well… bad.’
Erebus sucked in a long, harsh breath, and curled his fingers into fists. He wanted to hurt the Wizard. Break his nose too. Instead, he pushed past him and the two Witches, heading for the few Wicked who were waiting to see him – to hear from him. He paused at the entrance to the room where they mingled about, taking a moment to suck in another deep breath.
The air filled his lungs, something he was completely unfamiliar with. He wasn’t use to the requirement of breathe, the ability to express feelings through a sigh or snort or breath. It was a strange and new experience. One he wasn’t sure he liked. It was yet another dangerous means of killing him.
Erebus shifted to reach for his blade, then felt the unfamiliar hilt of a sword beneath his fingers. He glanced down, spotting the girls blade still attached to his hip. He reached to un-belt it. He didn’t need the weakling’s weapon.
No. This blade is fitted for this body. A voice whispered in the back of his mind.
Erebus faltered, then dropped his hands. He was right. The sword was designed for a Westmill body. It was the right size, shape, and had a comfortable grip for his hands. He was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He understood and appreciated the connection between a weapon and its master.
Shouts of anger shot up through the room and Erebus’s gaze darted to the stone doorway. He stepped through to see… he paused. The room was almost empty, save for twenty or so Wicked yelling amongst themselves.
Erebus turned back to the Wizard and two Witches.
‘This is it?’ He spat.
The Wizard was wringing his hands. ‘Just here. There are still more across the world.’
‘How many?’ Erebus asked, his voice deathly quiet.
The Wizard glanced at the two Witches, then back to Erebus. The Witch still held her shirt to her nose and avoided all of their looks.
‘M-m-maybe a fifth.’
The Angel Page 29