by Lizzy Ford
Sofia rose and retreated to her room. During her day, she’d found quite a few treasures, to include a dusty backpack, a flashlight, and Jake’s wallet, which happened to have a credit card she used to book a flight from Tucson to Virginia.
“I want to go out,” she said.
“Great,” Jake said, rising from his seat in the library with more enthusiasm than she’d seen all day.
“To the airport.”
His smile faded.
“That’s a no-go, Sofi.”
She pulled out a set of keys and walked down the hall to the front door.
“Sofia,” Jake called, trailing.
“You’re not allowed to touch me,” she reminded him.
“D is.”
“D’s in town. Remember?”
He frowned but followed her into the cool evening towards the garage. Damian had a lot of cars, and she found the black BMW whose lights flashed when she clicked the keyfob. Jake slid into the passenger seat beside her, pulling out his cell as he did.
He dialed and spoke in a different language to the man on the other end. Her grip tightened on the wheel, and she assumed he spoke to Damian. He didn’t appear out of thin air to stop her, and she made it to the airport terminal, where she stopped in front of the Delta sign and handed Jake the keys.
If she failed to make it on the plane, she didn’t doubt D would drag her back. She was pretty sure he would find her no matter where she tried to go.
Damn them all.
She strode into the airport and checked in, very careful not to brush up against anyone for fear of the jarring visions. She didn’t relax until her plane was in the air, and only then was she able to relax only when she sat pressed against the window to prevent her elbow from touching the man beside her.
Several hours later, just as dawn was breaking, she entered the disaster that was her apartment. Sofia dropped her backpack onto the kitchen counter, taking in the damage.
“Hello, Sofia.”
She froze at the familiar voice.
“I was worried when you didn’t show for your appointment.”
She turned, startled to find the man in front her of the same make and mold as Damian’s men. The doctor’s eyes were the color of cold steel, his face stoic and large form tense. His hair was silvered.
“Dr. Czerno?” she managed. “You’re not a doctor, are you?”
“No, Sofia.”
She stared at him and edged around the kitchen island. Sofia darted for the door, but he snatched her arm. His visions were more than just his death; they were the first person experience of torturing and killing of many, many others, as if she were mutilating others. She staggered under the weight of them, dropping to her knees.
He released her.
“I think you see what I am about,” he said.
Tears streamed down her face as screams echoed in her mind.
“I can carry you or you can walk out.”
“Walk,” she managed, shuddering at the lingering visions that left an acrid taste in her mouth.
“Let’s go.”
She pushed herself off the floor and rose. The kind of creature that could do such things to other men left her no doubt he’d do the same to her if she didn’t obey. She shivered and hugged herself as they emerged into the cold Virginia dawn.
A chauffer opened the door to a town car as they neared the street.
Run! Run!
As if hearing her thoughts, Czerno gripped her arm again. Sofia sagged, crippled by the burning visions. He shoved her into the car, and she crawled as far from him as she could.
They merged into traffic. Czerno raised the privacy glass with the push of a button.
“Tell me, love, just how powerful are you?”
She shook her head.
“Still transforming, I see.”
And he smiled, a cold smile that did not reach the death in his eyes.
* * *
Damian turned the cell back on and emerged from the Marriott’s conference room, the random place chosen by his spy chief for this week’s intelligence briefing. The situation in Europe plagued him, as did the declining number of Guardians. This would be the first year he’d gone into the negative in a thousand of years. He was losing established Guardians – mostly in Europe – and an entire class of new recruits.
Dusty’s suggestion of bringing in every regional commander and station chief for interrogation was sounding better. As a former assassin and interrogator, Dusty didn’t much care for people to begin with. Dusty’s skills were legendary, but Damian had held off on what he considered a reign of terror for his regional commanders. Dusty’s interviewees rarely lived through the ordeal, and he wasn’t yet ready for that step.
His cell rang before it could upload the number of voicemails and texts.
“I’m done, Han. What’s up?”
“This message is from Dusty. He wants to know what the fuck you were doing that you couldn’t answer your phone.”
“I’ll call him,” he promised.
“We have a serious issue,” Han said in a flat voice. “You need to get to NOVA now.”
“Consider me there.”
Han had never led him astray in the thousands of years as his XO. He waited until he was out of sight of the hotel’s cameras before blinking.
“’bout time,” Dusty said.
Damian accepted his hand in greeting, looking around. The room was as still as a graveyard despite the dozen Guardians there. Dusty had called in the entire sector. If he were personally involved in the operation, something was very, very wrong.
“I think this is yours,” Dusty said and handed him a few surveillance pictures taken of one of Czerno’s safe houses in northern Virginia and an apartment building.
Damian froze as he saw the photo of Czerno dragging Sofia to a car.
“How the fuck did she get to Virginia?!” he roared.
“She flew,” Dusty said, leveling a look on Jake, who stood in a corner with his head bowed.
Furious his order had been disobeyed, Damian started for the young Guardian. Dusty planted a hand in his chest.
“D, we need to get to her now. We know what he’s planning,” he said quietly, calmly. “You hear me? We know where he’s taking her.”
Damian met Dusty’s clear blue eyes, blood boiling.
“C’mon, bro. If he finishes with her before we get there … “
They were fucked. Damian forced himself to calm down, though he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around the newbie’s neck. The thought of Sofia in Czerno’s hands did worse than anger him – he felt fear for the first time in millennia.
“You know where she is,” he said.
“Yes.”
“We’ll do this your way, Dusty. We raze the place. No survivors.”
“We’ll drop you in first,” Dusty said. “Whatever you don’t destroy, we will. I called in the DC Sector for support as well.”
“He’s going with me,” Damian said, indicating Jake.
“Agreed. Jake, prep yourself. You’ve got half an hour.”
It was a death sentence, and Damian saw the realization in Jake’s eyes before the newbie left for the weapons room. The other Guardians filed out in silence befitting a funeral.
“He’s the only one at station who can Transport,” Dusty reminded him.
“I don’t give a damn. If we can’t un-fuck what he did, Czerno will destroy humanity overnight.”
And Sofia.
“I’ll put out a recruitment requirement for a new Transporter,” Dusty said and begin handing him weapons.
Damian pulled off his sweater to reveal a black t-shirt and tucked weapons into his cargo pants, boots and pockets. They were silent, aware this would be one of the most crucial battles they’d encountered in ages.
“Is she like the oracles in your father’s court?” Dusty asked. “Does she understand how important her gift is?”
“Not yet,” Damian admitted. “She’s this sexy little t
hing with beautiful eyes. Lots of spunk and stubborn as an ox. Nice rack, killer legs. So sweet and innocent. Were we ever innocent?”
“Nope. We were damaged goods when we were dropped onto this planet.”
He felt Dusty’s thoughtful gaze on him and looked up from strapping a gun to his ankle.
“Watsup?” he asked, straightening.
Dusty shook his head, though Damian saw his faint smile.
“Bro, watsup?”
“Either you need a woman real bad or there’s something special about this one.”
“Hey now, don’t insult my oracle,” Damian warned. “Assuming she survives tonight.”
He ignored Dusty’s intent look, aware his BFF knew when he was avoiding answering his question. Dusty was right on both accounts: he needed a woman, and she was special. He didn’t dare mess with an oracle, though. It was common sense: never piss off the woman who could see the future, lest she alter it and make your life hell. Thousands of years hadn’t given him much insight into a woman’s way of thinking, but this he knew without a doubt.
“As if the European front wasn’t enough,” Dusty muttered.
“Tell me about it. After this is over, I’ll tell you about the Guardian recruitment stats.”
“Gods.”
“Yeah.”
Hang in there, Sofia.
CHAPTER SIX
They drove west, away from DC. She watched the scenery turn from urban to rural and recognized the roads leading up to Skyline Drive, the scenic route running through the mountains of northern Virginia. The town car moved at a quick pace, bringing them to a mansion atop one of the private, gated drives tucked away from sight along Skyline Drive.
Czerno motioned her out of the car as it stopped in front of the Georgian-style manor house. It was full daylight, and she was already in pain despite the heavily tinted windows.
The daylight almost dropped her to her knees. She staggered against the car, cringing away from Czerno as he snatched her arms and dragged her to the house. He released her and tossed his coat to a waiting maid before motioning her to follow.
She followed, heart racing. She passed several men with guns hidden in the alcoves of doors as she walked. Upon passing the first, she realized they weren’t men at all. No human’s eyes glowed red, and their inhuman growls as she passed resembled those of animals. They watched her like they intended to make her their dinner. She hurried to follow Czerno, silently praying Jake ratted her out to Damian.
There were two other men in the study Czerno led her to. The door closed behind her, and he pointed to a chair. She sat, taking in the Goth décor that made the study as welcoming as a graveyard. The other two men gazed at her. One was of medium height and slender, an older man with sharp green eyes the color of forest moss who seemed out of place in the middle of the room. The second was closer to Han’s age with midnight hair and eyes.
Neither looked friendly. She stayed the urge to curl up in her chair, jumping when a shadow with lopsided shoulders emerged from the corner dressed like an executioner in black hood and gloves.
“Jilian, check her,” Czerno ordered. “Two, prep the room.”
The man in the black hood left while the man with midnight hair and eyes approached. She blinked, shocked when he walked through the man with the green eyes, as if he weren’t there. Jilian wrenched her up. Visions slammed into her, each one as vivid as the next, the sights, smells, sounds. He was Czerno’s personal hitman, an executioner with no heart or soul.
“Unbound,” Jilian said, releasing her.
She dropped into her chair, shaking.
“I’m impressed,” Czerno said. “Bylun’s gone soft.”
“If he didn’t act, there’s a reason,” Jilian observed.
“If he didn’t act, I will,” Czerno responded. “Prep her, quickly. Damian’s not gonna sit around for this one.”
Jilian grabbed her again, and she grated her teeth against the visions, staggering as she tried to keep upright. He led her down the stairs into a basement that looked more like a dungeon. One well-lit room gleamed with stainless steel. Until she saw the blood on the walls and ceiling, she thought it was a surgical room.
The torture room from her visions. Panic gripped her, and she tried to bolt. Jilian snatched her and slammed her onto the table, pinning her in place as he strapped her wrists and ankles in.
“Please don’t - “ she cried, yanking at her arms and legs.
“Shut up. The more noise you make, the worse I make it for you.”
She shut up, breathing raggedly. He retrieved a jar from the small refrigerator and laid it next to a surgical knife, a large rubber tube, and a huge syringe.
Oh, god, oh god, oh, god!! Sofia pulled again at her bindings and closed her eyes against the blood splatters on the ceiling.
“What are you going to do?” she whispered.
“You’re the oracle.”
“I only see other people’s fates, not mine.”
“You see mine?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“You die.”
Horribly. At Damian’s hands. That Damian was capable of the same level of violence as these men reminded her that this world was nothing like hers.
Jilian laughed.
“Guess they forgot to tell you I’m immortal,” he said. “Only Czerno or Damian can kill me.”
I’m sorry, Jake. I’m sorry, Damian.
“I’m going to drain your blood,” he said conversationally. “You should be grateful. Czerno wants this done his way, not mine.”
From her visions, neither of them was capable of any measure of kindness. Tears trickled down her face, tickling her ears.
“Then we’ll bind you to him.”
“What does that mean?” she forced herself to ask to keep hysterics from claiming her.
“An oracle must be blood bound to her master to be of any use and keep you from dying from the Transformation. We’ll bind you to Czerno, and you’ll serve him for all eternity.”
His words were too extraordinary for her to understand fully, but she knew serving men like these for eternity was equivalent to living with the devil in hell. Her breathing stilled, and she strained against the bindings.
“Hold still. If I miss, I’ll paralyze you for eternity.”
He held up the long syringe. By the glimmer in his eye, he wanted her to move. Sofia closed her eyes. He injected the gel into her arm, and warmth spread through her. Sweat soon covered her, and her chest began to tighten.
“We have to kill you first,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. A slow, cold smile spread across his face. “I didn’t use the cocktail mix. This might hurt a little.”
Fire formed in her stomach, racing through her. The man in the corner of her mind spoke to her then.
My name is Darian.
Sofia began to scream as her nerve endings sizzled from the inside out. She strained and bucked against the bindings, her body seizing. Darkness lingered at the edges of her mind but refused to take her. Instead, the agony grew, tearing her apart, cell by cell, while Jilian’s laughter echoed in her mind.
The alarm sounded the second he materialized into the compound. He expected it to; he sensed Czerno as well as the Black God sensed him. He snatched Jake as a knife sliced through the air where the newbie materialized and whirled, whipping out the sword at his back. He sliced through two vamps before shooting the other two in the small courtyard. Bullets rained down on them.
He dragged Jake against the building and loosed part of his power to locate Czerno’s position in the compound.
“C’mon!”
Jake shot off a burst of rounds as several vamps raced across the courtyard, their red eyes glowing and growls loud.
“You ok?” Dusty’s voice came across his earpiece.
“Great,” Damian grunted. “You got the schematics on this place?”
“Here,” Jake said, whipping out a PDA. He ducked into a doorway whi
le Damian shot two more vamps and reappeared, the blueprints on the screen.
“Guide me in,” Damian ordered.
“Tell me when you’re ready for us,” Dusty said.
“Will do. D out.”
Jake led him into the Gregorian mansion, whose stone walls resembled an old school fortress. Czerno’s affinity for castles meant they couldn’t simply blow the place up and hope she survived an avalanche of stone. He had to find her fast.
Damian located the enemy ahead of them, shooting intersections clear as they reached them. Jake led him into a dark wine cellar, and they paused to reload.
Czerno was moving.
“There’s another basement,” Damian said, pacing the room in search of a door.
“It’s not on the schematics,” Jake confirmed. “You see a door?”
They heard a sound that made them freeze and look at each other. It was the scream of a soul dying.
“Sofia!” Jake breathed, guilt and anger crossing his face.
“Stand back,” Damian ordered. “Cover the door.”
He tracked Czerno then placed his hands on the back wall. The stone exploded into pebbles and dust. Light from the hidden hall filled the wine cellar. Sofia’s anguished scream was still muffled.
“Sofia!” Jake shouted.
“D, watch out for Jilian. Czerno brought in fifty of his goons. Jilian’s - “ Dusty called.
“Jake!” Damian shouted as the transporter disappeared. “Fuck!”
He saw Jilian’s blow cleave the transporter apart the moment he materialized down the hall. Jake dropped silently. Damian charged Jilian, Czerno’s longtime executioner. Jilian met his sword with his own, barking orders to his vamps.
The screams stopped, and Damian’s heart quickened. The period between when an oracle could be bound and when she permanently died was brief. Jilien’s men pounded down the hall. Damian gritted his teeth, unable to unleash the blow that could destroy them all in a blink without taking out Sofia as well.
“D!”
“Busy!”
He whipped out the vamp killing hand cannons and shot the first two of Jilian’s men. Several rounds drove him back, and he ducked a blow aimed at his neck by Jilian.