Raven's Fall (World on Fire Book 2)

by Lincoln Cole

  “I was just up in my room reading.”

  “You should have exercised,” Dominick said.

  “It is exercise,” Haatim said. “For the mind.”

  Dominick chuckled. “Working out your mind won’t make your abs any tougher. Where you headed?”

  “Back to the city,” Haatim said. “I need to talk to my mom.”

  “Oh? What’s she need?”

  “No clue,” Haatim said. “She seemed particularly vague tonight.”

  “Mothers,” Dominick said, laughing and shaking his head. “Need a lift?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “I’ve seen you drive on snow. You shouldn’t be behind the wheel.”

  “You don’t have anything else to do?”

  “Nah, I’m in the clear. Savin was the last to arrive. The trial starts tomorrow.”

  “Wow,” Haatim said.

  It had taken such a long time to start Abigail’s trial that he found it hard to believe it had only taken a few weeks to commence this one against Frieda.

  “I’ll drive you in,” Dominick said. “I need to refuel the helicopter and get it ready before I start flying people out. It’s supposed to storm all night, so I’d rather get this stuff done sooner instead of later.”

  “All right,” Haatim said.

  He followed Dominick out of the building. Though windy, no snow fell yet. The days grew shorter, but they’d almost reached the solstice and would start lengthening soon. Haatim looked forward to having more than a couple of good hours of sunlight each day.

  It took ten minutes of waiting for the gate crew to clear them this time. A lot of faces, Haatim didn’t recognize, but once the pair got on their way, they made good time. Dominick drove up the roads with practiced ease, and Haatim had to hand it to him for how well he could control vehicles. A natural.

  “I’m worried for Frieda,” Dominick said, as they drove. “I didn’t think it would come to this. I thought they would drop the charges against her before calling in a full trial.”

  “Neither did I,” Haatim said.

  “Your father has never been Frieda’s biggest fan. After she let Abigail escape, he must have decided he would push this to the final conclusion.”

  “Maybe,” Haatim said. “But I don’t think things will go too poorly for Frieda in this trial.”

  “What do you mean? Did you speak to him about it?”

  “I did. When I left you the other day, they wouldn’t let me in to talk with Frieda, but I went to my father and confronted him. I’m sorry I brushed you off. I just didn’t want you to get involved in family stuff.”

  “No, I get it. I’m not mad or anything. I felt a bit hurt at first, but I’m over it. How’d that meeting with your father go?”

  “Still finding out, for the most part,” Haatim said. “I’ll let you know how things went after the dust settles. I did talk to him about Frieda.”

  “Oh?”

  “I told him I disagreed with his opinion, and that Frieda doesn’t deserve treatment like this.”

  “How’d he take that?”

  “He said he’ll stop pushing so hard and that he’ll try probation and re-evaluation after a few years without her having control of the Hunters.”

  “So she won’t be in charge of us anymore, but she’ll still be on the Council?”

  “Essentially,” Haatim said.

  “That seems reasonable, I suppose. In my opinion, they should just free her and admit this was all a stupid error of judgment, but I guess that’s why I’m not in charge. After all, failing to stop Abigail from escaping isn’t the same thing as freeing her.”

  “She did let Abi go,” Haatim said.

  “They don’t know that,” Dominick said, giving him a look. “Besides, the alternative meant allowing them to finish murdering Abigail, and we don’t want that.”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  “Then, that means Aram won’t even push for her execution anymore. He doesn’t even want her removed from the Council? But just wants them to strip her of the Hunters and give them to someone else to command?”

  “Himself,” Haatim said. “I’m sure he’s next in line.”

  “Bingo,” Dominick said. “I talked to a bunch of Hunters out in the field, and they won’t be too happy with any regime changes. Aside from a few bad apples, Frieda has complete control. Even if Aram gets control for a couple of years, he won’t manage to do much before the Council reinstates Frieda.”

  The words reassured Haatim. He’d met a few of the Council members, and they all seemed intelligent and forthright people, and not quick to react or make snap decisions. The one obvious thing was that they all had a healthy respect for, or fear of, Frieda Gotlieb and her family name.

  The name had come up many times while Haatim read the history books. Two of her ancestors stood among the original founding members. He’d seen mention of divinity and angels in the earliest stories, which meant that the original four remained highly revered.

  Frieda made for the last living relative of that blood line, and from everything that Haatim had garnered, she didn’t have any children or a husband, which meant the line would probably die out with her. He’d hoped to ask her about that before the Council put the ban in place to keep him away from her.

  They reached the apartments his mother occupied, and Dominick drove up to the lobby entrance.

  “Need me to stick around and wait?” he asked.

  “No,” Haatim said. “I have no idea what she needs, so this could take hours.”

  “Just call me when you’re ready to head back,” Dominick said. “I’ll be at the airport.”

  Haatim climbed out and went into the complex. Dominick disappeared down the road, heading east.

  While Dominick’s words had reassured Haatim, they also worried him. Right now, the Council sat divided and looking inward, but as soon as the trial finished, they would turn their attention outward again.

  Their first target would be hunting down Abigail.

  Worse, his father would be in charge of the Hunters. He had no doubt that Abigail could take care of herself, but he’d also seen how ruthlessly efficient some of the other Hunters were. Surviving against all of them …

  That seemed like something else entirely.

  He would need to act fast if he were to find Abigail first. He had no doubt that his father would hold up his word and let Haatim go after her first, but too many unsuccessful attempts and his father would revert to his original plan.

  Would Abigail even trust him? Things hadn’t ended well, so if he did reach out and try to find her, would she steer clear? How could he convince her of his intentions to try and keep her safe?

  Moreover, if he did bring her in, would it be to face another trial and execution? To leave her out would mean they would hunt her down and kill her, but bringing her in might end up getting her killed regardless.

  He didn’t know what to do but would need to figure it out soon. The trial would be over shortly, and his father would take charge.

  Haatim reached his mother’s hotel room on the third floor and tapped on the door.

  “It’s open,” she called from within.

  He turned the knob and stepped into the room. She stood in the center of the seating area. His father stood next to her.

  Haatim tensed up. Had she discovered their secret? Did she plan to confront them? Or, was this just an innocent get together that she’d organized to try and have a family dinner—something they hadn’t had in a while?

  “Dad? What’s up?” he asked.

  Aram frowned and glanced at the floor, clearly uncomfortable. “Haatim …”

  “Is everything all right?” He turned to his mother. “What’s going on?”

  His voice trailed off when he saw a third person step out of the bedroom, gun in hand. Nausea overwhelmed him when he recognized her. The room spun in his vision.

  A tall woman in her early twenties, wearing traditional garb from his hometown, stood there.
She looked as beautiful and sweet as he remembered. They’d grown up together.

  “Nida,” he breathed.

  His sister smiled. “Hello, Haatim,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

  Chapter 17

  The trip back to Lausanne passed uneventfully for Abigail. She kept expecting to see Colton, Anong, and Jack coming after her, but during her two days on the road and flying in, she never came across them.

  Maybe they had given up. Or, more likely, they had gotten called back to help protect the Council with Frieda’s upcoming trial. It seemed insane to imagine so many Council members gathered together in one place; a risk she felt was completely out of hand.

  She’d heard nothing more about the upcoming trial since leaving Mitchell behind, and the closer she got to turning herself in, the more nervous she became. It meant her death because no way would Aram forgive her for everything that had happened.

  Abigail could make no other decision, though. Dangerous and out of control, everything he had said about her, as well as all of the other people who had hated her throughout her lifetime, had proven true. She was a monster and couldn’t be trusted.

  She didn’t even trust herself.

  Abigail drove to the small airport inside the city where Dominick kept his helicopter. Spinner, an apt yet preposterous name. Though an old monstrosity that barely stayed up in the air, he loved it like a father loves his child.

  Hopefully, he wouldn’t be here. Abigail stood a fairly good chance of finding him somewhere out in the air yard, probably gabbing with a mechanic or working on his baby. It would be easier to leave the sword with him if she found him, and she didn’t want just to leave it and hope no one else stumbled across the old weapon.

  On the other hand, she didn’t necessarily want to talk to Dominick. Though the sword would be safe with him, if he talked to her, she felt afraid that he would try to talk her out of her decision. Right now, she just didn’t want to deal with that.

  However, she couldn’t take the sword with her. The Council would confiscate the weapon and lock it up somewhere. Arthur’s legacy didn’t deserve to be forgotten like that. Better to leave the sword with Dominick so that at least one good thing would survive this mess.

  She found his ugly little helicopter resting on a pad on the eastern side of the yard. The cockpit door hung open, and music spilled out.

  Jazz. Of course. He usually played Coltrane or listened to Marvin Gaye. The music meant he must be here, and no way could Abigail slip the sword in without him noticing. She would have to face him.

  Just outside the launch pad, she hesitated, attempting to muster up the courage to approach. With a deep and steadying breath, she edged toward the cockpit.

  ***

  Dominick leaned back in his seat, one leg stuck out and holding the door of his cockpit open. A best of Coltrane record played, and he hummed to himself, glancing down at his watch every couple of minutes and frowning.

  He had expected Haatim to call him by now to come pick him up from his mother’s hotel room. Dominick had spent the last two hours checking over the engine on his little bird, and then occupied himself by cleaning out old wrappers and trash.

  He could do only so much cleaning, however, and he grew more worried about Haatim. He doubted anything serious had happened with his mother, or the man would have called.

  Maybe dealing with whatever his mother had called about had him too occupied. Worrisome, all the same. Dominick hadn’t called yet to enquire, but he would if no word came in the next couple of minutes.

  “Hey, Dominick.”

  The voice came from behind him, inside the back of the chopper. He let out a little yelp and nearly fell out of the cockpit, completely caught off-guard.

  He steadied himself on the doorframe and glanced over his shoulder to see Abigail sitting there. She wore a bemused expression.

  “Dammit, Abi,” he said, composing himself. “Don’t do that.”

  “Your door was open.”

  “To let in air. Not ninjas. How are you always so quiet?”

  She shrugged.

  He glanced down. A long blade rested across her knees. He recognized it instantly.

  “Arthur’s sword. You found it?”

  Abigail nodded and held it up to him. Gingerly, he took the hilt and held up the weapon, sliding out the blade partway. It looked beautiful and pristine.

  “Frieda told me where to find it.”

  “I haven’t seen this thing in years. Not since …”

  He glanced back at Abigail, who frowned but didn’t say anything. He handed the blade back to her.

  “What are you doing here?” Dominick asked, wanting to change the subject. “I thought you were hiding like Frieda told you to do.”

  “I came back to turn myself in,” she said. “And I’m leaving the sword with you.”

  “What?” he asked, shocked. He spun in the seat to face her more completely. “What are you talking about?”

  “They’re going to execute Frieda instead of me,” she said. “I won’t allow it.”

  “They won’t execute Frieda,” Dominick said, shaking his head. “There’s no way. She’s too important, and Haatim said his father already took that possibility off the table.”

  “It isn’t worth the risk,” Abigail said. “I won’t let her get punished because of me.”

  “Frieda made her choice. Do you think it will help anything if you don’t honor the decision she made?”

  “I don’t care,” Abigail said, looking down at the sword in her lap. “She can’t be at risk because of me. Not after …” The words died in her throat.

  Dominick hesitated, and then said, “After what?”

  She looked up at him. “I’m a monster,” she said. “They were right about me. All of them. They should have killed me when Arthur pulled me out of that cult.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true,” she said, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “They should have murdered me instead of letting Arthur protect me. If it wasn’t for me, he might … he would be alive. He would never have been put in that prison or killed those people.”

  “Don’t say that, Abi,” Dominick said softly. “You helped put him in the prison, but it was all the years of battling evil that corrupted him. He just couldn’t handle it anymore and snapped.”

  “No,” Abigail said, wiping away a tear. “Fighting evil didn’t corrupt Arthur. I did.”

  ***

  A cool breeze whipped through the cockpit and ruffled Dominick’s hair. A long moment passed while he tried to digest what Abigail had said. “What do you mean? You did what?”

  “I can’t get into it right now,” she said. “All you need to know is that Arthur gave up everything for me. More than I ever imagined. Frieda too. She’s all I have left, and I can’t let her die because of me. Not for me.”

  “I can’t let you turn yourself in,” Dominick said. “We can figure this out.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out,” she said. “My mind is made up, and if you try to stop me, then I will consider you an enemy.”

  The finality in her voice came out undercut with something that made the hairs on Dominick’s neck stand on end. Just a touch of a boiling rage laced her tone, most of which she held back.

  Dominick hesitated, trying to decide his best course of action. If he did try to stop her physically, he had no doubt that she would make good on her threat. Could he handle Abigail in a fight? However, if she intended on killing him, then he would have no choice but to try and kill her as well. No way could he beat her with kid gloves on.

  If he let her go, then she would get locked up in a cell until after Frieda’s trial and the Council could decide what to do with her. At the very least, if Abigail did turn herself in, then they might find some way out of her execution once they freed Frieda and she became better able to help.

  Better to live and fight another day.

  The decision definitely not because she scared the crap out of
him.

  “Do you want me to fly you in?” he asked. “The weather is supposed to turn bad in a couple of hours, but I think I can get you there before it hits us.”

  She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I just wanted to bring Arthur’s sword to you and thank you for helping me all these years. You’ve been a true friend, even though I never deserved one.”

  “Come on,” he said. “Don’t get so melodramatic on me. This isn’t the last time I’ll see you. I’ll head back to the Council in a while after I run some errands, so I’ll see you when I get there.”

  “I’ll probably be dead already,” she said.

  “Don’t say that,” he said. “Frieda will never let that happen.”

  Abigail bowed her head and let out a long sigh. “I should go.”

  “Chin up, Abi,” he said. “This isn’t goodbye. It’s just ‘see you later.’”

  She looked up at him, a frown on her face. Then, carefully, she handed him the sword once more, and then climbed from the helicopter and onto the tarmac.

  A few steps away, she glanced back at him. “Goodbye,” she said.

  And then Abigail had gone.

  Dominick watched her disappear around one of the old storage buildings.

  “Dammit, Abi,” he mumbled, slipping his phone out. He needed to get back to the Council before anything happened to make sure that Abigail would be okay. He wouldn’t put it past Aram to try and execute her as soon as she arrived. “Always have to get the last word in, don’t you?”

  He dialed Haatim’s number. They needed to get back to the Council building post haste to make sure that Abigail didn’t do anything stupid. The line rang straight through to his voicemail, though.

  Dominick growled in frustration and climbed out of the cockpit, heading toward his car. He didn’t care how important Haatim’s conversation with his mother might be; this meant life or death. He would drag Haatim out of there if he had to.

  Chapter 18

  “But you’re … you’re …”

  “Dead?” Nida grinned. “I was, but I am no longer.”

  “How?” Haatim asked. “How is this possible?”