Lacrimosa (Requiem Series)

by Fonseca, Christine

  Kill them

  —No.

  Do it now

  —Stop.

  My hand rips across Cass’s back. Her scream floods my ears as her torment flows through my senses, feeding me.

  More.

  I need more.

  A voice, not my own, floods my thoughts...Stop. This isn’t who you are...It isn’t too late...Please. For Nesy...The words tumble through the recesses of my mind, tugging on something deep.

  Stop

  —Keep attacking.

  Let them go

  —Kill them now.

  Agony explodes up my spine, setting my blood on fire. My need coils around my torment, suffocating me.

  “Zane. Do something.” Cass pleads. The gash on her back sizzles.

  “I am. It isn’t working.” Zane dodges my blade.

  I corner them against the stone walls of the cathedral.

  Must.

  Kill.

  Now.

  The stones reflect the crimson glow emanating from my marks.

  “Cass, you try. Go into his heart. Try to—”

  I strike Zane, ending his words and sending him to his knees.

  You’re mine.

  Something—someone—floods my heart. Cassiel. She showers me with memories best forgotten.

  Love for an angel

  —Nesy.

  Mercy for a human

  —Lori

  “Get out,” I yell through gritted teeth. I pin her with my glare, stealing her air. The color drains from her face. She grabs at her throat, unable to breathe. Her eyes widen with fright. I shove her against the stone wall, and tear her from my heart. Her eyes roll back into her head as she collapses to the ground.

  “Aydan. The marks aren’t complete. You can fight your way back.”

  Zane’s words mean nothing to me. I raise my sword to strike.

  My thoughts blur.

  My mind goes blank.

  My hand opens against my will, sending my sword crashing to the ground as my thoughts explode in a burst of emotion. Hunger. Guilt. Torment. Love.

  Each feeling is a distraction. The Beast screams as the feelings attach themselves to every part of me. I scarcely notice the ground shaking. Or the Sentinals pouring into the courtyard. They close in around me. And chaos descends.

  Demon against Guardian.

  UnHoly against Sentinal.

  Fear, despair, and death rage as the battle drones on. It feeds me, focusing my efforts. Making me strong.

  Zane dives for me, his fingers wrapped around his meager dagger. I strip his weapon from him with a flick of my hand, sending him hurtling to the ground.

  The Sentinals descend on me. “I knew I should have finished this before,” the leader says.

  Zaapiel. His name is Zaapiel.

  How do I know this?

  I engage the Sentinal. We spar, the sound of our blades lost amidst the battle sounds circulating around us. We circle and strike, a fatal dance to the death. Zaapiel’s rage fills the air and coats my tongue.

  I want more. I hook his dagger and slice through his arm.

  Got you now, little warrior.

  Zaapiel counters, thrusting his sword into my flesh. My mind swirls as I stare at the sword protruding from my chest and stumble. I’m hurt, but not dead.

  Not by a long shot.

  Grabbing the hilt with both hands, I yank it free with a feral scream.

  “You will pay for that Sentinal,” I snarl, my words sounding more like a growl.

  I lunge forward, digging my claws into Zaapiel’s throat. His flesh sizzles. He slides to the ground next to Cass and Zane, blood oozing from his wound. His pain feeds me. His torment fills the empty spaces inside.

  I lift the Sentinal by the throat. His eyes are cold. Hard. He tries to speak. Garbled sounds replace his words.

  Cass and Zane rise.

  They slam into my mind. Take over my heart.

  Emotions ebb and flow for a moment. Until I block the intrusion and throw them from me.

  “That won’t work, little angels. Not anymore.” I bring Zaapiel within inches of my face.

  Time to feed.

  I bring my lips to the Sentinal’s mouth as a familiar voice screams in my head.

  Killing me.

  Chapter 43 - Libera Me

  Nesy

  “No,” I scream, watching Aydan across the courtyard.

  He will destroy all of you, Azza taunts, his voice resonating deep within my thoughts.

  “He’s not yours yet.” I push through the throng of dark creatures. “Stop, Aydan,” I yell at the Beast before me. “This isn’t you.”

  The sound of breaking stone and metal pulls my attention to the statue of Mikayel. Pieces of stone fall away as the sculpture comes to life, turning into my master. “Go,” he says. “Tend to your friends. I will find Azzaziel.”

  I run for Aydan, desperate to stop him. His death-lust radiates through me.

  “Aydan! No!” I scream as his lips cover Zaapiel’s mouth. “Remember who you are.”

  I barrel into Aydan, slamming him into the stone wall and pinning him with Zaapiel’s sword. He’s stronger now, so much stronger. I shove the sword against his throat, staring into his lifeless face. “Zane, Cass. Get Zaap out of here. Now!”

  “But—” Cass moves to help me.

  “Do it now!” My voice booms off the stones as I push the sword harder against my love.

  Zane grabs Cass. They take Zaapiel and disappear through a portal, their actions only a blur. I stare into Aydan’s hard face as he growls at me. His beautiful amber eyes are gone, replaced by the empty black orbs of the Beast.

  Just like Azza’s

  “You’re too late, Sentinal. Your Aydan is gone.”

  His voice fills me with fear. Gone are the musical notes that filled me with love yesterday, replaced by something so sinister it rattles my core.

  My gaze travels down his face and neck, counting the angry tangles of lines that crisscross and knot across his flesh. One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four.

  Five…

  Only five completed patterns.

  There’s still hope.

  “You’re not lost, Aydan. You’re still here, trapped somewhere inside of yourself. I can feel it.”

  Chaos swirls around us as the sounds of battle increase. Screams mix with metal and the swoosh of portals and gateways opening. Aydan wrestles against my sword. Wrapping a hand around the blade, he shoves hard, slicing a large gash. He continues to push, slamming the blade into my chest. The blow rolls off my breastplate as I spin away. “Aydan. It’s me.”

  I parry and block his onslaught of blows, unable to counter. “Stop this. You aren’t lost. I can still feel your heart. I know you’re in there. Our love still lives in you.”

  I step back and duck, his blade a mere inch overhead. “Please, Aydan. Stop.”

  He growls and attacks again. Blow after blow. Thrust after thrust. Relentless.

  I block every attack, retreating into the shadows. He advances, nothing but desperation in his black eyes.

  “I love you Aydan,” I say, pleading. “Still.”

  He refuses to abate the onslaught of his hits. Every parry I make, every counter I strike, seals our fate.

  Maybe I am too late.

  Please, I scream into his thoughts. You aren’t like him. You have a choice. Don’t do this.

  He waivers. His hungry expression turns to anguish. “Come back to me, Aydan. Love me.”

  He stops and I knock the sword from his hand. His eyes widen with recognition. The black orbs begin to change, lighten, as amber irises fleck through the dark circles.

  Every jagged line of color brings me hope. “Aydan?” His name scrapes across my lips as my heart clenches.

  “Nesy.” He chokes. “Wh—?”

  His knees buckle. He lowers his head and I watch the color drain from his face.

  “Sshh,” I say as I grab his arms. “Don’t try to talk.
You’re weak.” I bear his weight and steady him.

  I feel him melt into my arms. A silhouette forms in the darkness, accompanied by the unwanted stench of death.

  “He is far from weak, little Sentinal.” Azza emerges from the shadows, armed with a Sentinal’s sword.

  Releasing Aydan, I raise my sword. Azzaziel is not claiming Aydan now, not while I’m still alive.

  Azza raises the Sentinal’s sword to Aydan’s neck. The blade drips with the same black liquid oozing from the Dark One’s wounds. Our eyes lock.

  “I won’t let you finish that mark,” I say as I circle towards him.

  “And Aydan won’t let you prevent it.” He counters. “He knows what will happen to you if he doesn’t complete the sacrament.”

  “Don’t listen, Aydan. You don’t have to do this.” I edge forward, glancing between the sword at Aydan’s neck and his eyes. I love you, I whisper into his thoughts.

  Nodding imperceptibly to Aydan, I swing a large arc over his head, slicing into Azza’s flesh.

  The move catches him off guard. He stumbles back and drops the sword. Aydan reaches for my arm and smiles. His eyes lighten even further.

  “Let’s end this,” I say.

  Together.

  The UnHoly swarm around Aydan and me, weapons swinging in every direction. We slash through them together and push the mob back into the shadows.

  Azza retreats from our blows. I dive for him, carving new gashes into his skin.

  He parries. Attacks. Slashing into my armor, he batters me. His blows are strong—but not as strong as they once were.

  Azza and I circle and lunge with deliberate precision. The force of each blow rattles the ground, sending tiny tremors up my arm. I advance, steering Azza away from Aydan and back to the broken statue of Mikayel. New gashes appear on his thighs, his shoulders, his chest.

  He counters every blow, searing his own trail of lacerations along my flesh. But every blow costs him a little.

  He’s growing weaker.

  I double my efforts, ignoring the pain and fatigue coating my cells. I can think of nothing but Azza and the vengeance I crave.

  “You won’t win.” He attacks, colliding with my breastplate. “You won’t save Aydan.”

  “I already have.” I swing, landing a hard blow across his heart. Every moment of torment, every ounce of vengeance is poured into that blow. Azza crumbles, falling to his knees at my feet. His weapon falls from his hands as confusion paints his expression.

  I kick the weapon far from his reach. I don’t care that I can’t kill him, don’t care about anything other than unleashing the fury I’ve felt for so long. Gripping my sword with two hands I stand over him, the blade positioned over his heart. I stare into his cold lifeless eyes. Vengeance is mine at last.

  “This is for Aydan,” I whisper, plunging the sword deep into Azza’s chest and pinning him to the ground.

  His screams echo through the courtyard. Thick, black blood scorches the pavement as Azza falls back, his empty eyes still open.

  Chapter 44 - Ruin

  Aydan

  I charge into the UnHoly descending on me, striking at everything in my path. My mind is sharp, determined. My own.

  The marks on my neck flare to life and scorch my soul. I drink my anguish, allowing it to sharpen my senses.

  Nesy screams in the distance, locked in battle with my master. Their swords clash, each stroke filling me with dread. He will not let this pass. He will kill her.

  Unless I kill him first.

  A loud scream fills the courtyard, burning into the Beast. Pain rips through the marks seared on my neck and for a moment I can’t breathe, consumed with the same agony I felt earlier this night. Nesy has pinned my master. He is immobile.

  For now.

  Good.

  I expect to feel relief. Hope. Satisfaction. Anything but the fear suffocating me as the UnHoly horde pulls back. A large gateway opens in front of me, lined with Sentinals. Fifty. Maybe more.

  My death has arrived.

  Finally.

  The Sentinals pour in around me, swords drawn. I back away, blocking the initial attack. Blades roll off my shoulders, slicing the air around me.

  There are too many. I can’t fend them off.

  I don’t want to.

  They rip open every wound, every scar, slicing new gashes over my body. The marks on my neck burn with crimson heat. I taste death in the air. My death. It floods my senses and nourishes my soul. It strengthens me.

  The Sentinals continue their attack. Their blades lodge deeply into my flesh. Black liquid oozes from every wound, scorching the ground as it pours from me. I counter and block the attacks out of instinct.

  I need to hold on. Make certain Nesy is safe. My hunger flares to life, the scent of my own blood, my death, urging the Beast inside.

  Fight back

  —I will not kill.

  Feed from them

  —I will not nourish you.

  A feral scream rips through me as I push the Beast aside.

  For now.

  I parry the relentless volley of blows, refusing to counter. I will not submit to Azza. I will not be the Beast. The brands eclipse every thought, searing my hope.

  Feed on them

  —no.

  Fulfill your destiny

  —never.

  Obey.

  The Beast growls as my body lunges forward. I counter the raging attack of the Sentinals.

  Yes.

  Thrust into the angels before me.

  Good.

  No.

  Nesy, think of Nesy.

  Blades whirl around me. For a moment time stops and my mind clears, illuminating what I must do—the only choice left to make. Inhaling a deep breath, I open my arms, allowing my sword to drop to the ground. The Sentinals thrust forward, piercing my shoulders, my arms, my chest. I sink to my knees, embracing my death.

  My one chance.

  The earth begins to shake.

  “Stop!” Mikayel steps from a vortex opening next to me. His voice booms over the battle, stopping the attack.

  Yes yes yes.

  Shadows mix with the fog cowering along the ground. It grows, darkening everything in its path. The UnHoly run toward the smoke and darkness.

  “Go after the UnHoly. Don’t let them escape.” Mikayel’s order rings throughout the ranks. They swarm the shadows. Screams bounce off the mist and gloom.

  I look up at Mikayel. End this, please. End me. “You need to kill me. It’s the only way.”

  “I know,” he says.

  “Thank you.”

  Mikayel raises the Sword of Truth and mouths a silent prayer.

  Chapter 45 – My Kyrie

  Nesy

  The Sentinals chase the dark creatures into the encroaching fog. I watch as they lose them in the black emptiness, listening to their cries of frustration. My sword remains planted in Azza’s chest. I call Mikayel, but my voice dies around me.

  Not good.

  I will always love you, Nesy. Remember me… The words replay in an endless loop through my mind. I feel Aydan’s love. His pain.

  His resolve.

  No!

  A small sound floats from Azza’s mouth. “You still lose, Sentinal,” he spits. “You still lose.” A malicious smile flashes across his face as he chokes on his own laughter.

  I drive my blade deeper into his chest. Black liquid trickles from his mouth. His face drains of color. Rotting flesh falls from his bones.

  That ought to shut him up.

  Again Aydan’s voice finds my heart.

  Where are you?

  I step over Azza, ignoring the breathless laughter emanating from his nearly dead mouth.

  I’m coming, Aydan. Wait.

  I search through the murky fog surrounding me. A valley of mist clears in front of me revealing my own personal horror—Aydan on his knees; Mikayel pointing the Sword of Truth at his chest.

  “No!” I yell across the expanse. “Stop.” My legs refus
e to respond, pinning me where I stand.

  Stand down, Sentinal. Mikayel’s words slam into me, mixing with Azza’s incessant laughter.

  I can’t do this.

  I take one more step forward as the weight of Aydan’s torment crashes over me, mixing with my own. My gaze meets his, tears trickling down our cheeks.

  “Goodbye,” he silently mouths.

  Run…it’s too late.

  Stop him…Aydan wants this.

  Mikayel will do what I can’t. And Aydan will finally find peace.

  I stare at Mikayel and nod. His eyes widen, sadness replaced with a feral rage.

  Aydan opens his mouth, clamoring to his feet.

  Blinding pain explodes through my body, my stomach, my chest.

  My heart.

  I look down as a sea of nausea envelops me. Hot sticky wetness mats against my skin, coating my armor. A dagger lodges under my breastplate. Blood fills my throat, covering my tongue and lips.

  Azza stands beside me, his eyes locked with Aydan. He yanks the blade through my flesh.

  A fresh wave of agony overtakes me. I fall, my body convulsing, flashes of my life streaming around me. Moments with Adam. With Aydan.