DAIMON (Nerys Newblood Series Book 1)

by Lucy Smoke

  “How?”

  “You know how,” he says. Maybe I do. I start to ignore his hands on my skin and instead I sink further into myself, feeling the raging heat, accepting it. Welcoming it. “Good. Now this.”

  He presses large fingers to my temples, guiding me into his own mind, to the knowledge that I will need to access my senses. I need to get back and I need to hurry. Booker is likely cursing himself for trusting the alchemist. We knew nothing good would come from him. We were warned. We didn’t listen. I have to hope I won’t be too late.

  Chapter 15: The Deal

  “You bastard!” There’s yelling and things breaking as a struggle hovers in my periphery. I follow the sounds until I can feel myself entering a place just on the other side of awareness. I can feel my limbs, hear the sound around me. But, I have no control.

  I have never wished for the sun so much as I do now. I am frozen in my body with chaos shattering the world around me. There are yells, cries of pain, the anger of my friends. Chills dance down my arms and clouds of smoke filter over my face. The fire, is it still burning? Light feels like a figment of my imagination with all of the darkness creeping in. I can’t even open my eyes. There are more voices than the guys and the alchemist. Hard voices. Angry voices. Threatening voices. King Matric! He has found us.

  Through the shadows, we walk hand in hand with spirits and are once again reborn. Do not fear the darkness, Nerys. Obidian’s voice is crystal clear. Ringing with infused confidence of a warrior. He’s certainly built like one.

  I need to see them, I beg. To make sure they are okay. His mind ghosts through my own until I can feel everything he feels, see everything he sees, and hear everything he thinks. One thought brushes up against me and I wrap a mental hand around it holding it close when I read what it says. Can you do it? I ask. He doesn’t want to, I can feel that. It would mean invading their minds and it won’t be able to be reversed unless the pathway is broken. I don’t care. Do it, I demand. There is a sigh from him, one of frustration. Please, I amend.

  You would take away their choice? I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to guilt me into changing my mind. Perhaps, if I weren’t so desperate for some light, for a chance to see them. Some of the yells are theirs. I need to know they are okay. It will bind you until necrosis. An odd way of saying “‘til death do you part” but I don’t care if that is what it will take.

  It may not be reversible and they have to be near you, within a certain distance, or it may not work. Only your potentials will accept the bond. They are the directions of your center, North, South, East, West. It will be very painful. But only for you. That’s good. My insides clench at the thought of causing them pain.

  Directions? I reply. There’s more than four of them. How can they––

  Only a human or a descendent of one can be a potential, Nerys.

  He mean’s Luca. Luca won’t be able to accept the bond. A thunderous noise in my head spins out of control, consuming my thoughts. Is there anyway…? It feels important not to leave him out. It feels wrong to even consider doing so.

  Obidian replies in a voice that’s quieter with contemplation and concern. It’s possible since he’s connected to one of the potentials with a similar bond. I won’t know until we try it. You must be sure.

  Booker, of course. Luca is connected through Booker. I hope their bond is strong enough to connect all of us. The choice is heavy and terrifying. What if they hate what I’ve done when it’s too late? What if connecting them to me will have adverse side effects? As more yells erupt from outside my body and swords clash, guns exploding, I shake off everything else and reach out with mental hands, holding onto Obidian. My spirit guide. My new mentor. My...friend.

  Please, I say. Do it.

  In the next second, a volcano bursts under my skin, boiling lava spilling into my veins. I’m screaming. I have to be. The pain is too great for me not to be. I can’t feel my gaping mouth or hear the blood curdling sound, but it must be there. Fiery lashes whip across my soul, leaving behind welts that drip with poison seeping into the wounds and suffocating the lava as it curdles in my body.

  Not much longer, Obidian promises. Has it been long? It feels like it’s been years. Only a few moments have passed, he says. That can’t be true, though. All I know is the intense heat, the boiling of my skin that melts off of my bones and leaves me rotting. The pricks of fire swords stabbing into my abdomen over and over have always been there.

  The moment I think this, though, is the moment that the darkness in front of me eases and begins to clear, fading into a smokey gray cloud circling my vision until clarity slams into my head with the force of a bullet train. Suddenly, I can see. Not only that, but I can move. I am moving. I’m spinning, ducking, yelling–my voice is deep. A panic in my soul is covered by calm and collection.

  Booker? The body I can feel stumbles forward into an oncoming attack, a king’s soldier holds a gun up, eyes devoid of emotion and pulls the trigger. A shock wave hits his shoulder and he rolls with it, rolls with the pain I feel under the surface of the membrane separating us by mere threads. Booker jumps to his feet, towering over the smaller man. He grabs the soldier’s neck with both hands and snaps the delicate column of his throat.

  Booker! The body freezes at my shout. His head tilts to the side before turning slowly to face something. To face someone, I realize a short moment later. Me. I’m sprawled on the ground, pale and broken looking. All color has drained from my face until my cheeks are ashen and a sallow gray. A pang reverberates in Booker’s chest at the image. Does he think I’m dead? I’m not dead! I scream. I don’t want him to think that. I’m not dead!

  I’m catapulted out of Booker and I slam into the next form that draws near to my body. By the golden hair shaking in front of my eyes, it’s Titus. I feel a trickle of liquid seeping from a cut on my arm, drawing a path downward to my wrist. It’s hanging awkwardly a sharp throbbing emanating from the obviously broken limb. Helpless, I watch as Titus turns to Booker and shoves him out of the way of an oncoming strike. It’s too small of a place for the soldiers to use guns. The soldier that Booker killed was obviously one of the few with the priceless weapon and one of the stupidest because it seems those who refuse to draw their guns are faring the best against the guys.

  “What are you doing?” The low tone barks from Titus’ chest in a mixture of fear, anger, and deep gut-wrenching sorrow.

  “I thought I heard her…” Booker trails off looking over his shoulder at me. Now that I’m no longer inside his mind, I can’t tell what he’s thinking. His brows are drawn down low and his lips are pinched. I’ve never seen him appear so out of depth, so sad. I’m not really dead, am I? I can’t be if I’m here in their minds. I need to get their attention.

  Titus! The image in front of me disappears and for a split second I panic, thinking I’ve broken the connection, but then Titus’s eyelids slide up and I realize he only closed his eyes for a moment. Can you hear me? Please hear me.

  “You thought you heard her?” Titus isn’t asking Booker, though. He hears me. I know it. “I think I…” He turns to my body as well and they both stare at the ghostly pale skin that houses my soul. Or at least it used to. I wonder if I’m soul traveling right now? Is that even a thing? Using your soul to jump into other bodies. It’s a surreal experience.

  Titus. I muster up as much calm as I can. If you can hear me. I’m not dead. I need to know that you can hear me. Please hear me...

  “I can hear you.” He says it out loud and Booker jerks a hard look up to Titus, green eyes flashing before they narrow.

  “Is she…?” Booker doesn’t know how to finish. He stands in front of Titus, arms tight all the way down to his clenched fists and hopefully stares at Titus, willing him to answer.

  “She is.” Titus nods.

  In here. Talk to me in here! It’s hard to tell myself to remain calm.

  Nerys? His warm vibrato makes me want to cry. I’m so relieved I squeeze as much of my emotions into my ne
xt words.

  Yes. I’m alive!

  How are you in my head? Is this? Gods, please tell me I’m not going crazy. Booker thought he heard you.

  He did, I assure him. But, when you got close, I kinda accidentally slipped over here. More like something body slammed me out of Booker and into Titus, but I’m less worried about that right now and more concerned about how I can help them. Titus chuckles.

  Leave it to you to be difficult even in death.

  Hey! I protest. I’m not–duck! I see the sword and scream before I even realize that Titus has already noticed. Blood gushes across the golden tan skin of his hand as he shoves a fist into his attacker’s nose. The man falls down, gasping and sucking in mouthfuls of his own blood.

  I decide to stop wasting time and I tell him exactly what I need. Can you get the others over to me? I ask.

  Do they need to be near you to hear you?

  Just initially, I say. After that, I think the connection stays. I can hear some of Booker’s thoughts behind Titus’s, like he’s there if I need him. I have to focus hard for those to be understood though. Titus raises a sword I don’t recognize with a leather hilt and an arched point. It must be from one of dozens of soldiers crawling through the library. There’s blood everywhere, books have been tossing aside like trash as they attempt to bring down my guys.

  You think? Titus asks.

  I’ve never done this before, I say. I thought that would have been obvious. Please, just get them closer to me.

  Alright, I will. Should I tell Booker the same?

  No, I’ll do it. Just focus on not getting killed. He swings and brings down yet another attacker. I can just picture the confidence smirk on his face. Intense like him.

  You don’t need to worry about that. I focus on Booker, drawing his thoughts back to me until I can hear him.

  Booker! His whole body jerks as I slide back into his mind, seeing through his eyes.

  “Gods.” He gasps with a curse. I suppose it’s a curse for him anyway.

  Can you hear me? I ask

  Yes. You’re...Nerys, please tell me you’re real.

  I am, I assure him. And I need a favor.

  Anything. He says it with such conviction that my insides melt. He doesn’t even ask how it’s possible for me to be talking to him, just accepts and agrees. I love him in this moment.

  I need you to get the rest of the guys closer to my body. I can’t hear or talk to them until they do. Titus can hear me, but I need the rest.

  Done. He moves away, fighting his way across the bottom level of the library they’ve apparently taken me to for the ceremony.

  Obidian?

  Yes, Nerys?

  What now? I’ve gotten Titus and Booker and I know I will eventually have the rest of the guys. But, I’m still immobile. I need to unbind us somehow.

  If they can get the alchemist to complete the ceremony, we will be released. It seems so simple but as I move between Titus and Booker’s vision, I don’t see the slimy traitor anywhere.

  “Hey! What are you doing?!” Holden yells as Titus drags him across the floor, towards my body. The moment he reaches whatever invisible lines determining the right amount of closeness, I slip into his mind.

  I’m here, I say. I’m sorry for the roughness. But I needed you close to me.

  “Nerys?” He says my name aloud, face furrowing in confusion.

  Shhhh. Yes. It’s me. Do you know where the alchemist is?

  His eyes jerk up and glance around, searching. He spots the sniveling little cockroach hiding away in the corner behind two of King Matric’s soldiers as he attempts to escape.

  Don’t let him go! I yell, panicked. If he finishes the ceremony, then I can wake up!

  You’re not dead? He clarifies.

  No, Holden. I’m not dead. Obidian is unbound too. But, the alchemist did something to me. I can’t move. Hurry. I urge him with as much vehemence as I can.

  On it, he promises. Luca is next, shoved over by Booker. It’s no difficulty to slide into his mind and explain the situation. The only one who I can’t hear is Coen. I look for him through the others’ eyes.

  There is a soldier larger than the rest, body army shinier and thicker on the other side of the room. As far from my as possible. Coen fights him with sweat sliding over his eyes and down his chin. Before I can ask someone to grab him, a cold hand on my feet jerks me back to my body. Just outside of the circle, Holden shoves the alchemist, covered in the blood of his protectors, dripping down his face, in my direction.

  “Finish it,” he commands. “Or I will end you.” Holden raises his weapon, a sword like Titus’s, threateningly.

  Even shaking in his boots and cloak, the alchemist looks up at Holden haughtily. “If you kill me, she’ll be bound forever.”

  Holden leans in close, until their breaths mix. Slowly, Holden smiles. “Then I won’t kill you. I’ll keep you alive for as long as possible. I can make you wish for death, beg for it until your throat is raw and you can’t speak to do that much.” Whatever the alchemist sees in Holden’s face makes him shrink back, beady little bullet eyes of his widening in fright. “Or,” Holden continues. “You can continue the fucking ceremony and I’ll let you live, maybe.”

  The alchemist quickly gets to work and I flash back to Titus, who is getting closer to Coen. There are so many soldiers and bodies littering the floor, it’s a shock that the room hasn’t filled to the brim already. There’s still an ocean of space between Coen and the rest of my guys and I silently urge them to hurry.

  “Enough!” The big armored soldier fighting Coen roars, throwing off his helmet and holding his sword out to my best friend. I gasp. It’s the King himself. King Matric is slicked down with his sweat, dark peppered hair pressed against his face and forehead. “All I require is the daimon! If you choose to give it to me then I will release the rest of you.”

  “Never!” Holden calls across the room, echoing with his fierceness. Through Titus’s eyes, though, I see the wheels turning in Coen’s mind. Before I can voice a protest to anyone, he speaks.

  “If we give you the Daimon, you will leave the rest be?” he clarifies. I can tell he’s hurting, body tiring. No! I want to scream. I know what he’s thinking. I’ve known him my entire life and he’s always protected me. I don’t want him to now. I would rather die or be captured than have him do what he’s thinking of doing.

  “I swear to you, that is my will,” the King answers sharply. Why the rest of the guys are silent, I don’t know. Maybe because there are so many soldiers, but they have all frozen at the King’s declaration.

  “I am the daimon.” Titus’s eyes slide closed as he blinks cutting off my vision for a brief moment. The quiet in the room is deafening.

  “The girl?” the king gestures to my prone body.

  Yes! I scream in relief. Titus flinches and I quickly apologize. But I’m not sorry for my relief or the King’s intellect. It only makes sense that he would see the rest of them protecting me and make the right conclusion.

  Nerys, Titus says. The weight of my name tells me he wants to let Coen continue with his obvious plan. But, the King will see through the lies, I’m sure of it.

  “She is a sacrifice,” Coen lies smoothly. “I need her life to unbind my guide. But, these men are my friends.” He turns to the rest of us. Eyes sliding over Titus before Booker and Luca and Holden as he stands over me before he settles on my pale, quiet, useless body. I scream in frustration in my own mind.

  “They will be freed if you simply come with me,” the King says. “That is my deal.”

  Coen glares at the King and I am so proud of him even if I want to throttle him. His stance is of a warrior. We are subjects no more. From that, at least, we are free. “I agree.”

  Before I can think of an escape, a way to stop them, of anything but the shock of this turn of events, Coen’s sword is flung away and soldiers converge on him. I hear the alchemist whispering enchanted words and I scream once more as I’m launched into a new voi
d of darkness. I scream for Obidian even as my vision is eclipsed and I slide away from my guys, away from Coen.

  Epilogue Part One: Nerys Unbound

  Where are you, Nerys? Booker’s angry voice ricochets through my head, the mind link we had established days before strengthened by not only the nearness, but also his heightened emotion. He so rarely cursed before. In light of the past few days, however, he’s taken to saying as many curse words as possible. A part of me thinks that he’s making up for lost time, another part of me thinks he’s just had enough of the bullshit piling on top of us.

  I ignore his question and continue forward with my hood pulled up to cover my pale features. I’m serious, Nerys. Get back to the rendezvous point immediately!

  His determination only serves to speed up my steps. I turn a corner and slam, face first, into a rock solid wall. I jerk my head up and meet familiar gray eyes. I gasp and reach for the face that I know so well when his hands grip my wrists and yank me behind him, pulling me into a darkened doorway among the crowds gathering.

  I’ve got her. Luca’s voice slides through my mind as he speaks across me to Booker. He has a soothing aura, different from Bookers. I realize it’s not Coen with me, but Luca. My heart breaks as I release the hopeful breath in my chest and when Luca turns back to me, I slap him. Hard. My chest rises and falls when his face turns back to me and his body shifts, becoming taller, but less bulky. He starts to look like how he normally does. Booker’s face, which has become Luca’s stares back at me. There’s still a red mark on his cheek.

  Luca’s face is drawn, but he’s not upset by my outburst. Instead, he simply ushers me further into the darkened doorway as people pass us by. My eyes catch on the girls, most of them around my age as they skip and hop alongside each other, talking about boys and treats and normal things. Their hair dances with fire sparks, the glittering flames tickling their napes. They must be phoenixes. A part of me wishes I were them, wishes that I could be so carefree. Even though they aren’t human, they at least have a normalcy-filled life.