by T. G. Ayer
My frustration built, strong and hard and I raised my head and let out a distinctly feline roar. The sound—confined with me within my coffin—echoed in my ears, over and over again, and I fell back, hitting my skull hard on the concrete behind me.
It was hopeless.
I was finally admitting that to myself.
I exhaled slowly, my eyes stinging with tears of frustration. I didn’t want to admit it, but there was a possibility that I would die here, without anyone ever knowing what had happened to me.
I thought about my parents and brother. An Alpha walker family, facing dangerous odds with the Walker High Council applying rules that would cast us out of a centuries-old alphahood. They’d already succeeded in tearing my parents apart, putting a strain on their already pain-filled marriage.
I wanted to believe they’d pull through after my death, but we’d lost my sister Greer so recently that I wasn’t sure my parents would hold up under a repetition of such loss. Especially not when they would never know what had happened to me.
Iain, with his solemnity and silence, was a hard person to understand, and I hoped Darcy—a MindMelder mage who had entered our fold not too long ago—would help him come out of his shell. But with the Walker Council decreeing that walker-nonwalker relationships were illegal, where did that leave him? To be again ripped from a woman he loves would hurt him deeply and I wondered if he would ever recover. Add to the mix the loss of his remaining sister, and there was no telling what he would do.
After all, it was the quiet ones you had to keep a second set of eyes on.
That made me think of Logan, the man I loved despite the law decreeing our relationship being taboo. He was still unconscious, still lying in my childhood bedroom, mostly unmoving. He’d shifted his hand and fingers a few times, but not enough that Darcy or Dad would consider it significant progress.
Logan’s DragonFyr—because no, he was not the fire mage we’d all thought him to be—was building within him slowly, his mind unable to control it while he remained unconscious. I knew he was aware of what was going on around him, though. Nerina, my DeathTalker friend, helped me to communicate with Logan every few days, just to ensure he was doing fine.
Darcy was working with him slowly, attempting to unravel the wipe she'd done on his mind all those years ago. And Sienna—Logan's twin sister—was at his side almost twenty-four-seven, pulling the latent fire out of his body, giving him some form of relief, however little.
So many people who would be affected by one disappearance. I wasn’t thinking in terms of how much I’d be missed, but more in that such a disappearance, seemingly with no answers, could shift their attentions toward finding out my truth, rather than keeping to their own paths.
Paths just as, if not more important, than mine. Darcy was searching for a way to make up for the damage she’d done, not only to Logan but to all the other people she’d erased, people whose memories she’d tampered with while Omega had blackmailed her into their service.
I could have told her that she’d never be able to make it up, that all she had to do was be the amazing person she was, and use her talents for good. Would grief sway her from her path too? Would it damage the foundation of the love she shared with my brother?
And Lily? Her path was so convoluted, now intertwined with Dad’s and mine as if we belonged to the same bloodline. Would she survive a failure in her treatment? Should it fail, could she live her days out unable to shift, and still be happy and whole?
I laughed and let out another roar, feeling my panther shifting, my bones melting and reforming as she clawed desperately for release.
But I pushed her down. No sense in giving her freedom only to allow her to be trapped again.
I let out one last feline roar and was about to hit my head again—frustration and anxiety now warring for space within me—when the lid of the coffin moved all by itself.
I stiffened waiting to be sure I’d heard right.
And then the lid shifted again, as if someone was trying to pull the entire concrete box to the side. I considered trying to help, pushing the lid away from me and aiding my savior.
But I held my breath, wondering if these were my captors coming back to end me once and for all. I had been making a hell of a racket, so I wouldn’t have blamed them.
The shifting stopped, and the lid of the coffin was slid off in one swift movement.
Chapter 3
The moment the lid of the coffin shifted I blinked, wincing against the light stabbing at my eyes. Though faded and hazy, my panther sight had remained and the brightness was sharp enough to hurt. I was spurred into motion, driven by adrenaline that hit me, the shock of the light coupled with the movement of the person opening the coffin.
I ought to have considered that whoever had opened the lid was there to save me, but I didn’t give myself the chance to think. As energy spiked through me, I boosted out of the coffin and slammed into the tall person who had been bending over me.
I impacted hard against him—or rather her, considering the curves I slammed into. The woman let out a soft oomph and backpedaled two steps. Then a low whirring echoed through the space around me, the sound of a dove’s wings fluttering in the air.
I ignored the noise as I hit the ground and rolled. With one extended deadly-sharp claw, I sliced the ropes off my ankles and spun, trying to assess the room around me, before lunging for my attacker. The fading light reflected around me, bringing stone walls and a curved ceiling into sight. The air around me shifted, a cold breeze buffeting my cheeks, and everything seemed to have a hard, hollow echo. My attacker seemed to loom over me, and as my heart thudded I let out a soft roar and swiped at her.
The sound reverberated around us, the rough vibrations hurled back at me over and over again. Disoriented, I felt a rush of fear. I shook my head and forced myself to focus. Whoever this woman was, she’d have to kill me first before she took me.
My time inside the coffin seemed to have fueled me with a strange fury. Each lunge boosted me to strike again and again, but the woman deflected the blow and feinted and dodged, keeping just out of harm’s way, and frustrating me even more.
The woman moved with such grace, such fluidity in her limbs that she appeared almost ethereal, and I had to wonder if perhaps she was fae. But her speed made it hard to focus on her long enough to get a good look at her. What I did get was a sense of height, and a cloak that seemed to swirl around her, almost as though it were alive.
A flash of something white filled my vision, and I blinked against it, confused, but refusing to be distracted by whatever my attacker was using to take my attention away from the fight.
But as I fought, delivering blow after blow, feeling the impact of my fists on her body, I began to doubt myself. Again, a flash of white in my peripheral vision caught my attention—this time appearing to be wings—and I faltered.
Her blow caught me in my abdomen, boosting me off the ground and flinging me across the floor and away from her. My panther’s growl echoed around the walls making me more aware that we were battling within the narrow confines of a tunnel, uneven hand-hewn walls and ceiling making it clear as to where I was.
Of course.
Coffins and catacombs would go together in Rome.
The blow sent me rolling across the stone floor, only stopping as my back slammed into the wall. Struggling to breathe, I sprang to my feet, refusing to be caught off guard again, but my attacker stood away, retreating across the wide tunnel, watching me with large blue eyes.
Midnight black hair framed her face, and the sight at her back brought me to my feet and to a standstill. A pair of great white wings flared then shimmered as she folded them behind her, tips glinting silver in the shallow light.
I’ve just been saved by an angel. Literally.
I swallowed hard, unsure how to react now that I’d just about punched the lights out of a living, breathing angel.
Don’t kid yourself, Kai. You were nowhere near punching her lights
out.
The Angel stepped forward, her smile particularly pleasant for just having been involved in defending herself against a furious, frantic panther.
“I mean you no harm,” she said softly, although from her tone I suspected her unsaid words were, “Unless you mean to harm me.”
I closed my mouth and nodded at her, eyes still focused on her wings. I’d never come this close to an Angel before. I had, of course, met other Immortals. Jacinta Carnarvon was a Titan, Storm—or rather Ares—was a God, and Darian was an Ancient.
Still, I was in awe as I stared at her.
She stepped closer, her hand outstretched. “My name is Evangeline. You can call me Evie.” Her brilliant blue eyes shimmered as she smiled again. “Are you okay?”
I blinked. “You’re an angel.”
Wow, lost your manners much, Kai?
Evangeline tilted her head to the side, studying my face for a moment before shaking her head. “Not an angel.”
Frowning, I straightened. Not an angel. “If you’re not an angel then you must be a…”
“Nephilim,” she said, her cheek dimpling as mischief shone in her eyes. She managed to be badass and angelic all in one go.
“Nephilim?” I shook my head. “But Nephilim…they don’t exist.”
Again, she grinned. “My mirror tells me otherwise.”
I opened my mouth to respond then realized that for a seemingly intelligent woman I was certainly behaving like the village idiot.
“I’m sorry. I’m a little…shocked.”
Yup, that certainly helps the attempt to not look stupid.
The angel nodded slowly. “Completely understandable. Nephilim are not meant to exist at all. I’m what you can call an anomaly. I’ve done a pretty good job of hiding from those who would seek to harm me.” She sighed and rolled her shoulders, and I had to wonder if those wings wore her down at all. “There is an entire world of which many supernaturals are still ignorant. So…your surprise is justified.”
I nodded and straightened, retracting my claws and making sure my panther was well and truly hidden. I’d fought out of instinct, my feline self roaring to life unchecked, and yet the nephilim before me appeared as unruffled as if she’d just been attacked by a kitten.
I was single-handedly going to ruin my reputation.
I cleared my throat, then glanced around the tunnels. “Why did you abduct me?” My voice echoed, and I flinched, feeling for some reason that being loud within the catacombs was somehow disrespectful.
The nephilim shook her head. “I’m afraid you have the wrong…gal. It wasn’t me who stuck you in that box.”
I frowned again. “So you were saving me?” I asked, still hesitant to believe her. I had no idea who had knocked me out and left me in that box to wither away and die. For all I knew, she was a Nephilim gone rogue, so I remained wary.
On the other hand, if she was only guilty of trying to save me, then I was going to look worse than an ignorant.
I gave a stiff nod, feeling the throbbing in my face begin to strengthen what with my sudden rush of activity. I touched my bruises, my fingers careful as I checked for broken bones. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I just lashed out.”
“That’s understandable considering it was dark, and you’d been locked up in there for Lord knows how long.”
I cleared my throat. “I think it may have been a couple hours at best.” I squinted at my watch in the bleak light. “Yep. I was up top on a stakeout before they got me. That was around one in the morning.”
“How did you end up in that thing anyway?” the nephilim asked, studying the lid of the coffin, her expression confused. “That’s Ailuros, god of protection and vengeance. Seems like your attackers picked the wrong cat.”
I snorted. Another one with the cat quips? The angel reminded me of Tara, my fae friend who had a penchant for finding something smartass and feline to hit me with every time we met.
“Actually, Ailuros is quite appropriate given what I am. She’s a most benevolent goddess.”
“Feline skinwalker, I take it?” Evie asked, her blue eyes almost aglow with curiosity.
I nodded, careful not to jar my throbbing head. “And as to how I ended up prematurely buried? No clue at all. I just woke up stuck inside there. Couldn’t figure out a way out, was running out of air, so things got a little urgent…hence the rocking and the rolling.”
“A smart move. Had you not rocked the coffin I’d have not heard you.”
I studied the nephilim’s face, noting too her long cloak, leather pants, and white shirt, and hands covered in brown leather gloves. I didn’t miss the sword and short dagger at her waist either. “What were you doing down here?” As soon as the question fell from my lips, I realized it was really none of my business. I ought to just be grateful she’d been in the right place at the right time.
Then I stiffened. It only made sense to be wary. What if she was the mastermind after all? Not that I had even the slightest clue as to why she would want to abduct me. But who knew? People often had their reasons to go a little psycho every now and then.
The nephilim must have seen the doubt in my eyes, but she didn’t seem offended. Instead, she smiled and inclined her head, and we spent a moment staring at each other.
I couldn’t help staring at her wings again. “Wings, huh.” I grinned. “Cool.”
A smile bloomed across her face, and her dimple deepened. “Shifter huh?” She nodded. “Cool.”
We both laughed then, and I relaxed a little. She didn’t feel like a threat, and I was beginning to believe that I currently owed her my life.
Besides, Evie appeared to be an ally, so I had to take advantage of that. Still, I did need to be careful.
Finally, I clapped my hands together lightly and straightened. “I think it’s time to let my team know I’m still alive. I need to check on my partner as well. She was with me when I was taken, but I think they may have left her behind.”
Evie nodded. “I’ll see what I can do to get you there as fast as possible.”
I frowned. “How-” I looked up at her then grinned. “Oh. Wings. Right.”
As I turned to leave, the nephilim wrapped her arms around me and lifted me off the ground.
“Don’t make a sound,” she said, her lips against my ear.
Chapter 4
Evie had grabbed me suddenly from behind, and had flown us to the nearest cross-tunnel, lifting me high up against the ceiling.
Her words had stilled my blood, and for a second instinct bade me struggle as I wondered if she was, after all, a danger to my life.
Then she tightened her grip. “Someone is coming.” Her tone was urgent, raw with concern, and I clamped my jaw shut and relaxed within her hold as we hovered in the shadows near the ceiling.
The experience was surreal, but I barely had time to enjoy it as footsteps echoed hollowly on the stone as two men neared the tunnel in which I’d been left to die.
“Do we really need to come all the way back here?” the first man said, his whiny, high-pitched voice echoing along the tunnel.
“You heard what the boss said,” his companion replied. The second man’s tone was hard, almost angry as he snapped his response.
“Yeah, I did.” Disappointment filled the whining man’s voice, and I could almost picture him pouting. “We get to take her out of the box and make her dead.”
As the pair passed directly below us, the second man grunted. “He’s happy with the torture but needs to know the deed is done.”
“So we can put her back after she’s dead?” The first man sounded gleeful now, strangely appeased by the thought of sticking a dead body in a coffin.
Weirdo.
Evie’s hold on me tightened, and I shifted my panther senses to get a feel for her emotions. Her heart raced, and perspiration skimmed her skin. Only her elevated emotion smelled less like fear and stress and more like anger.
Evie shifted and placed her lips near my ear. “I’m going to be very h
appy to help you get away from those two douchebags.”
I grinned. I hadn’t expected to hear a nephilim using such a word, and I made a mental note to find out more about this intriguing woman.
The two men were intent on hurrying down the passage toward the discarded coffin and were paying no attention to us whatsoever. They’d not given a single thought to look up, to check on their environment for dangers, which smacked of incompetence.
Evie lowered us to the ground silently, and we tiptoed after them. Up ahead they came to a sudden halt in front of the half-open coffin.
“What the fuck?” said the first man, his tone leaning toward a whine again.
“Shit! We are so screwed,” his partner growled.
“I ain’t going down for this, Bruno.”
“Can you just shut up for one second and let me think. She couldn’t have lifted that lid off the coffin herself. You know how hard it was for both of us to move it.”
“So what are you trying to say? She got magical powers?”
Bruno’s voice was cutting as he replied, “No, you asshole. She got help.”
“Yeah, asshole. She got help,” said Evie as she stepped forward and clocked the second guy, Bruno, on the side of the head so hard that the sound of knuckles hitting skull reverberated around the tunnel.
Bruno sank to the ground, dead weight now.
His whiny friend squealed and turned, heading back the way they had come. Only to come face to face with me.
“You,” he sputtered. “Where…?”
I allowed the feline claw on my forefinger to lengthen and shimmer in the weak lighting inside the tunnel. “Please keep your voice down, or I’ll be forced to relieve you of your vocal chords.” I was surprised at the sound of my voice. I’d pulled off the bad-guy routine pretty well, so well, in fact, that I’d sounded scary even to my own ears.
Yeah, it was the panther growl that did it, not scary Kai.