Deadly Storm

by Skye Knizley

  He wiped blood from his mouth and stood. “I will not be caught unawares again.”

  Again he charged, and their blades were joined in a blur of silvered steel and sparks. When they parted, Raven had a fresh cut on her belly, one that would have killed her had she not been wearing armor. She winced as it began to heal and hefted her sword.

  “Is that the best you got, old man?”

  Strohm chuckled. “Raven, I’m playing with you. Surrender and your faerie will live.”

  Raven glanced at Aspen, who was still dueling with the dark haired witch, and doing well, by the looks of things.

  She almost didn’t see Strohm’s attack. He moved in a blur, feinting for her face then spinning into a side lunge that almost took her head off. She blocked and backpedaled, again putting distance between herself and larger man.

  “Wynter is going to pick your faerie apart, Raven,” Strohm said.

  Raven shook her head. She’d fallen for it once, not again.

  ‘You good, Asp?’ she sent.

  ‘One down, Ray, but I lost track of Rupe. Do you see him?’ Aspen replied.

  Strohm’s sword came crashing down and she blocked, then punched him in the face, pulping his nose and giving herself some room. She stepped into the opening and spun a kick at his face, then brought her sword crashing down in a blow he barely deflected. In that instant, Raven glanced around the chamber. Levac was no longer lying beneath the altar, he was crawling slowly, painfully toward the spell engine atop the arch.

  ‘Rupe? What the hell are you doing?’ she sent.

  ‘It has to be stopped, Ray. The spell is destroying the city,’ Levac replied.

  ‘Fine, tell me how,’ Raven said, dodging another attack by Strohm and backing toward the ramp.

  She could see Levac’s head shake. ‘You can’t do it, Raven. The city needs you.’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about? I need you. Your wife and new baby need you, don’t do anything stupid, Rupert,’ Raven said.

  Levac didn’t reply, he climbed to his feet and began walking, continuing the climb toward the glittering orb. Raven followed, retreating in front of Strohm, who pressed his advantage. Their swords clashed again and she had no choice but to stop and defend herself. Strohm was too good with a blade to be given an inch. After several moments they came body to body, with Raven bending backward over the abyss, her arms and legs straining against Strohm’s greater strength and weight.

  “Your familiar will be too late, Raven. When the clock strikes three, the spell will be complete and Chicago will be plunged into permanent snowy darkness. My vampires will rule and your mother’s reign will end,” he said. “Its over, don’t make me kill you.”

  “Strohm, someday someone is going to kill me, but it won’t be you and it won’t be today,” Raven replied.

  She focused all her pain, all her rage and summoned her father’s bloodline. He was the greatest warrior who ever lived, and his power filled her veins. She kneed Strohm in the groin and pushed him away, then spun into another series of kicks that drove him back. When he was far enough away, she turned and ran toward Levac, who had reached the top of the arch. Her legs pounded beneath her, she pushed harder, desperate to reach him before it was too late, but she knew she wouldn’t make it. He was there and she wasn’t.

  ‘Rupe, please don’t. Whatever you’re going to do, we’ll find another way,’ she sent.

  Levac looked at her, his fingers inches from the edge of the spell. “There is no other way, Raven, it has to be the blood of a Tempeste. We have only minutes until this frozen hell becomes Chicago. I’m not letting my daughter grow up in this, I won’t.”

  “Then let me,” Raven said.

  Levac smiled. “Not this time, boss. You still have to save the city.”

  He pressed his hand into the spell, then stepped inside. Raven watched helplessly as the magik tore at his body, ripping welts in his flesh, tearing it away and spreading his blood across the stone altar. Later, when it was over, she would remember he never screamed. Not even once. He’d just looked at her and said, “Tell my wife I love her and take care of my baby, Ray.”

  Then he was gone. Tears stung Raven’s eyes and she screamed in the worst pain she’d ever felt. It was as if a corner of her soul had been torn off and tossed into a blender. She fell to her knees and screamed again, it felt like she would never stop. How could he? He was needed!

  No. How could she? She’d failed him. He’d stood by her side and never let her down, and she’d been too late. Too late to do anything but watch her dearest friend die.

  She roared in anguish and turned, watching Strohm advance, his smile a rictus of pride and hate.

  “He’s gone, Raven, and the city will still be mine. All of your friends, your family will die by my hand if you do not surrender,” he said.

  “Never,” Raven said. “Not one more.”

  She rose to her feet and charged, driven by fury and pain. She brought Excalibur down and fought harder than she ever had. Her blade was a blur of righteous wrath that Strohm could barely stand against. Again and again sparks flew as their blades clashed, and he fell back step by step toward the ledge.

  “Not. One. More,” Raven said through gritted teeth. She slashed, cutting Strohm’s arm at the wrist and sending his blade spinning into the ether.

  “No!” Strohm yelled, clutching his stump. “I will not yield!”

  Raven grabbed him by the collar and raised him to eye level. “No one asked you to, you sick fuck.”

  She ran him through with Excalibur and kicked his body over the ledge, retrieving the sword as he fell. She watched until his body vanished into the depths, then fell to her knees.

  Below, the witch Strohm had called Wynter vanished, leaving Aspen standing in a cloud of ice and snow.

  It was over. But things would never be the same.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  343 Wolf Point, Chicago, 6:43 a.m., December 25th

  Raven stood at the window watching the sun rise over the city. It had done its work the previous day. Once Levac broke the spell, the clouds parted and the sun cast its healing rays on the city. Strohm’s vampires, joined in pitched battles with Section Thirteen and House Tempeste, were destroyed by the light. Both the FBI and the House had taken heavy casualties, but they’d won the battle. Any Renegades that survived had returned to the shadows. Valentina and Section Thirteen had, for the moment, agreed to work together until the Renegades were destroyed and the city was safe.

  Raven didn’t care. Her mind was on Sloan and the baby she’d named Kenzie. Sloan had taken Levac’s death badly, she’d blamed Raven for his death, and rightfully so.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to her reflection.

  “It wasn’t your choice, Ray, it was mine,” Levac said.

  Raven shook her head and looked at his reflection, standing beside her in the glass. “I should have protected you, Rupe. It was my duty. You’re my familiar, my family.”

  Levac smiled and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his tattered old coat. “It was my turn to protect you, Ray, the only way I could. To protect my family, not just Kenzie and Sloan, but you and Asp.”

  He stepped closer. “You don’t always get to be the hero.”

  “I’m no hero, Rupe.”

  “You are to me,” Levac replied.

  Raven turned to tell him he was out of his damn mind, but there was no one there.

  “Who were you talking to?” Aspen asked, entering with two cups of cocoa.

  “Myself. Or a hallucination. Take your pick,” Raven said.

  She sank down next to the tree and hugged her knees. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  Aspen knelt beside her and offered a steaming cup. “Me, either, Ray. It will take time. And don’t even think on what Sloan said last night. She’s hurt, she lost her husband and her new
born’s father. She’ll come around. She’s family.”

  Raven took the cup and sipped at the warm chocolate. “She doesn’t owe me anything. I killed her husband.”

  “No, you didn’t. Strohm and those crazy witches did, not you. You did everything you could to save him,” Aspen said. “You bailed on Section Thirteen and the House to save him, you put him first. Nobody could ask more.”

  “It should have been me.”

  “And if it had been, Strohm would have killed Rupert anyway. He and the witch would have killed me, and there would be no one to stop him,” Aspen said.

  Raven looked at her. “There had to be another way.”

  “Sometimes there isn’t another way,” Aspen said. “Life isn’t fair, Ray. You know that. You’ve died saving the world yourself. Rupert died protecting the people he loved. You don’t get to cheapen that with self recriminations.”

  She was right. Why was Aspen always right? But Raven didn’t want her to be. It wasn’t fair, Rupert had a family, everything to live for.

  “And something to die for,” she said softly.

  She heard Levac’s voice say, “Now you’re getting it, boss.”

  “Did you hear that?” she asked.

  Aspen smiled. “Carolers outside. It sounds like ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’.”

  Raven could hear them, somewhere down the hall. But that wasn’t what she meant.

  “No, I mean…oh never mind.”

  She stood and took Aspen’s hand. “Come on, let’s go listen.”

  “We still have to find Murphy’s killer,” Aspen said, trailing behind.

  “I know,” Raven said, opening the door. “But not today.”

  The End.

  EPILOGUE

  Sisters of Mercy, Chicago, IL, 8:00 a.m. Dec 25th

  Sloan Levac held her baby close and watched the sun rise over the city. It was almost as beautiful as her daughter, who had a full head of golden hair and the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen.

  “I wish you were here, Rupert,” she said, looking at the baby, whose name was Kenzie. “Why did you have to be a damn hero?”

  She could almost feel him by her side, smell the chocolate in his pockets and hear his voice. “It was my turn. You have to apologize to Raven, it wasn’t her fault. She’s the Godmother, after all.”

  “It wasn’t your turn, you stupid, stupid man,” Sloan whispered.

  She shook her head and looked back at the rising sun. He was gone, and she had to accept that. But her imagination had been right about one thing. It wasn’t Raven’s fault. She knew if Raven could have saved him, traded her own life, she would have without a second thought.

  Kenzie gurgled in her arms and she smiled at her. “I’ll call Auntie Ray later and wish her a Happy Christmas. For now, why don’t you get back to sleep, Mommy has some cards to write and you’re in for a growth spurt any time now.”

  She stood and placed the baby in the crib that Rupert had made himself, after much damage to his fingers. It was beautiful, and fitting for the baby.

  Kenzie smiled when Sloan pulled the blanket up to her chin, and gurgled at something only she could hear.

  Raven Storm will Return in Stormcry

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you to my editor Elizabeth. Your epic patience, kind words and constant faith keep me writing.

  Thank you to my publisher Sarah, who cut me some serious slack on deadlines and made this book possible.

  Bex at Dreams2Media, you are the best, woman!

  My publicists Jen and Linda. Thank you for getting the word out.

  My stylist Kelly, thank you for making me look so damn good.

  The Chicago History Museum, thank you for helping me keep it straight.

  Plaza Jaguar, for letting me play with an F-Pace.

  And my readers. Thank you for your faith, patience and kind words. You rock.

  Skye Knizley

  November, 2017