In the Dark

by Jen Colly

  “The demon attempted to kill Soren, and when it failed, it tried to kill Soren’s woman as we took it from his home.” She thought the Guardian had finished, but he spoke once more. “We had no other choice but to bleed the demon. It had no intention of leaving without taking a life.”

  An odd vocal mix rose from the people around them. Some whispered, putting their heads together, while others shouted out their opinions.

  Navarre faced the creature, and his voice rang through the arena. “Demon, you and your kind are not permitted to enter Balinese or any vampire city. Yet here you stand. Not only did you break our law, you attempted murder. Twice. Have you anything to say?”

  The demon only smiled, his fangs glinting as they caught the light.

  “Entering our cities will not be tolerated, and attempted murder is punishable by death. You have broken two sacred laws. This is my city. Live by my laws or die.” The arena fell silent as Navarre paused. No one moved, no one breathed. “You, demon, have chosen death.”

  The door to her right opened, and wild cheering rose in a roar around her. Bareth stepped into the arena wielding a large broadsword. Navarre’s words ricocheted through her mind at the sight of the polished metal.

  “Is he...is Bareth going to kill him?”

  “He is,” Soren said evenly.

  Bareth approached the condemned man cautiously, though he remained shackled. The demon scanned the arena with his red eyes, then fixed them on Bareth. Tipping his chin up, the demon braced for death.

  Bareth drove his blade through the demon’s chest, straight through the heart. For a moment, the demon stood and stared. Then his lips moved as if he spoke to Bareth, who with a short jerk, pulled the sword out. The demon’s body crumpled. The thirsty sand drank in the fresh blood.

  It was done.

  Faith turned away, pressed her cheek against Soren’s chest. The violence and the slicing jab of Bareth’s sword had been hard to watch, but she’d needed the closure. As the tension ebbed from his shoulders, Soren’s hold on her became less crushing. He’d needed this, too.

  “Soren...” Navarre leaned forward, studying the scene before him.

  On the sands below, Bareth stood absolutely still, the kind of stillness that suspended time. He stared at the black blood on the end of his blade, then slowly looked up to Navarre. Bareth turned away, heading for the door. He took only a handful of steps, then peered over his shoulder at the fallen demon.

  Soren stood at her side. Something was wrong.

  “Captain, Soren, go to Bareth. Now,” Navarre ordered. Captain Savard had already sprung into motion, vanishing down the stairwell.

  Soren hesitated, still holding her hand.

  “She’s safe with me. Go,” Navarre commanded. Soren squeezed her hand, then darted after the captain.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.

  “I don’t know,” he answered her, but without turning his head or physically acknowledging the man’s presence called, “Sampson?”

  “Yes, my lord?” the man said, remaining hidden, probably in the folds of the thick curtains.

  She remembered Sampson. He’d been the only Guardian to knock Soren on his ass. A skilled man like him hidden at his lord’s side eased her mind.

  “I want Nero and Steffen here.” Navarre searched the slowly dispersing crowd.

  Sampson spoke again, but not to Navarre. Faith couldn’t make out the words.

  “Steffen is...” Sampson had paused, or maybe his voice had faltered. “Nero and Flynn are on their way.”

  Not more than a minute later, a man she recognized appeared from the stairway, then another familiar man followed on his heels.

  “My lord?” the first man asked.

  “Nero, Flynn, this is Faith,” Navarre introduced them. “She is Soren’s woman. Guard her with your lives.”

  Both men nodded and immediately flanked her.

  “I don’t like this at all,” she whispered.

  “Neither do I.” Navarre’s focus had already been relocated to the door through which Bareth had exited.

  What would worry the lord of Balinese to this extent? She couldn’t see it. The crowd talked happily among themselves as they shuffled into the aisles, on their way home. Unaware.

  * * * *

  “Bareth?” Captain Savard asked, cautiously approaching his High Justice so as not to startle him.

  Bareth remained silent, staring at the floor, a hand covering his mouth.

  “What happened?” Soren asked calmly, stepping into his line of sight.

  “We made a mistake. We made a terrible mistake.” Bareth shook his head as if still trying to sort things out.

  Captain Savard stopped short. “Should we not have killed the demon?”

  “Oh, no, it had to die.” Bareth fell silent for a long moment, then returned his focus to Soren. “We were right. They’re looking for our cities.”

  The captain cursed, the sound echoing off the tunnel wall. Soren walked right up to Bareth. “How do you know?”

  Bareth reached out and gripped his shoulders. “With my sword buried deep in its chest, it said, ‘It begins with me. Now watch your people die.’”

  “A dying man wanting the last word.” Captain Savard shook his head.

  “No,” Bareth whispered, a haunted look in his eyes. “I have seen many deaths, heard many last words and prayers. This was different. It had no fear in its eyes, only absolute certainty. Like it knew when and how we would be defeated. Like its death was a signal.”

  Chapter 15

  Soren had rescued her from Nero and Flynn and sent the Guardians where they would be put to better use. Now she walked between him and Gustav, her arm looped around his, and once again guarded by two men.

  He had plenty of reasons to worry about her safety. Gustav agreed, and planned on staying in Balinese to watch over Faith for the next few nights while Soren helped the captain. Having the alert and wary Stalker in his home would be a relief.

  “Is Bareth all right? What happened?” Faith asked.

  Soren took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He’d waited for this question. “He’s fine. The demon gave a prophecy before Bareth killed it.”

  “What kind of prophecy?”

  “It foretold the end of the vampire race. It takes a great deal to shake Bareth, and Navarre is taking every precaution,” Soren said.

  “Does what the demon said really matter if he’s dead?”

  “Navarre won’t take any chances. Captain Savard and I have started organizing Guardians for a possible attack. I don’t know if it will help. I feel more worn out than prepared.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles.

  “And I’m so happy to help, by the way.” Gustav sent Soren an irritated smirk. “I can’t believe I’m stuck here.”

  “Navarre asked you to stay for a couple days. You’re the one who said yes.” Sympathy was unneeded. Gustav’s sarcastic comments veiled a genuine concern.

  Faith giggled. “At least you’ll have a great sleep. Even a couch would be better than your bed. I’ve slept on that thing, and...”

  He and Gustav held up their hands to silence her and she shut her mouth and held still.

  The door to his home had been left wide open. Without a word, Gustav pulled his sword free, and disappeared through the open door alone. Soren pulled Faith to his side, gun in hand, and waited for Gustav to return.

  The deafening silence worked his nerves, tumbling possibilities through his mind.

  Gustav reappeared and shook his head slowly. “Go have a look.”

  “Did someone break in?” she whispered to Gustav.

  “Not exactly,” he said, and stood rigid, gazed glued on the doorway. Not a good sign.

  “Stay here,” Soren said low, and left her with Gustav.

  The demon blo
od the Guardians had spilled last night had been removed from the carpet. He’d asked the servants to eliminate any trace of the demon, and after they’d finished, made a point of verifying that it was ready for Faith to come home. The room had been spotless before someone made this mess.

  A lamp had been knocked over, and a vase from the dresser had shattered on the floor. Strange.

  One of her small silver hoop earrings had fallen onto the floor, which he picked up. No damage. No theft. Things at arm level had been tossed around, scattered like someone had left in anger. His empty home had made someone extremely disappointed.

  He didn’t want Faith anywhere near this place. Stepping over the lamp, he reached for the silent alarm on the wall.

  Before he could touch it, the city’s alarm sounded. The siren rang through his home and the hallways, as it would throughout Balinese.

  * * * *

  Soren ran out the door, gun in one hand and his sword in the other. Something was seriously wrong. She’d jumped when the alarm blared, and Gustav had cursed repeatedly. But Soren? He’d emerged unruffled, almost as if he’d switched into Guardian mode.

  “And that noise is?” Gustav yelled above the blaring alarm.

  “It can only be set off by a Guardian. We’re under attack.” Soren checked his gun, then handed it to Gustav. “Take her to the arena.”

  “No! I want to stay with you,” she cried.

  “Navarre is the heart of this city. If he dies, the city is lost. I have to protect him.” Soren kissed her soundly, then pushed her toward Gustav. “Take her. Go.”

  Gustav hooked his arm around her and forced her to move. He’d taken her away from Soren so fast, she hadn’t seen which way he’d gone. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t follow him. Gustav had a fierce hold on her.

  Together they wove through the vampires, somehow always moving against them. Gustav sheltered her from the panicked people flooding the hallways.

  “What’s in the arena?” she asked, her voice barely audible above the alarm.

  “Protection,” Gustav said, never slowing.

  They turned the next corner sharply, and she lost her footing. Gustav righted her, bumping into another man in the process. They kept moving.

  More men darted past them, leaving only a few in the corridor. If the arena equaled safety, then why weren’t more people here?

  At her side, Gustav constantly searched the faces of those surrounding them. He’d noticed it, too.

  “Move faster,” he snapped.

  She ran. Fear of the unknown kept her moving. The alarm vibrated through her, interfered with the pounding rhythm of her heart. They were almost there. The arena doors were just ahead.

  “Run,” Gustav yelled. Then suddenly he released her, shoved her forward.

  Her body slammed hard against the arena door, jolting her teeth. The air left her lungs in a huff, and she let the door support her as she caught her breath.

  She spun around to find Gustav. He lay facedown on the ground, Soren’s gun several feet from his hand, and a red-eyed man stood over him. The demon pried its sword from Gustav’s back, blood coating the blade.

  Faith screamed. A stupid and thoughtless action, but she couldn’t stop. Gustav’s lifeless eyes still stared in her direction. Tears fell freely, blurring her vision. Gustav shouldn’t be dead. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

  Those red eyes turned on her, and she screamed again. Not daring to turn her back on the creature, she pounded the door behind her with the side of her fist.

  The demon stalked her with a sinister smile, unconcerned with his surroundings. Blade lowered, he focused on her, his prey.

  “Hello, human.” The demon licked his lips, making a show of baring his fangs.

  An icy chill surrounded her for only a moment, then she felt the solid length of a man at her back, and his thick arm encircled her. The demon stopped his advance and raised his blade. Who had her, she didn’t know, but he must be vampire.

  “This one’s not for you, Red,” the man behind her said.

  The demon charged them. The solid objects around her became hazy. Her head spun, and she couldn’t tell up from down. Her stomach churned and muscles quivered like jelly, but it only lasted for a moment.

  “Faith,” the man said, bowing his head slightly. “I trust your short travel in Spirit wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

  Her balance faltered in the arena sand, and he caught her, made certain she was steady before he released her again.

  “Titus?” she asked, and he gave her a lopsided grin, confirming his identity.

  Dyre came to her side, and guided her away from the doors into the center of the arena. They slipped through a ring of Guardians, and then a circle of men. In the center, a multitude of women looked as frightened as she felt. Even so, they stood their ground, swords held awkwardly before them.

  The cool hilt of a sword landed in her hand, and she opened her mouth to protest, but Dyre hadn’t placed it there. He’d already gone. Elin stood at her side, gripping a narrow blade expertly.

  “What do we do?” Faith scrubbed the lingering tears from her face and tightened both fists around the sword hilt. Like the other women, lifting the heavy sword was a challenge.

  “We make sure no demon touches the children,” Elin whispered, gaze fixed on the double doors.

  Faith spun around. There, in the heart of the circle, children huddled together. They held hands, not making a peep. Sand shifted as the constantly vigilant Guardians moved around the men and women.

  No longer was there a question whether they might be attacked. It was a matter of when. She would have been more scared, but for the fact she wasn’t alone. Behind her, innocent children depended on her for safety. Women stood alongside her, setting aside differences to join together and protect the children. Men and Guardians defended the lot of them. She wasn’t an outsider here anymore, but part of them, one of them. She was home. And to save these people, she would do anything.

  Faith prayed for Soren’s safety. She missed him, wanted him by her side, craved the sense of security she’d come to rely on from him. Now she could only wonder, had he found Navarre? Was he safe? Or had he been killed as easily as Gustav?

  A sob threatened to escape, and she choked it down. Soren would want her to be strong, and she planned to make him proud.

  Chapter 16

  Soren warily eyed the twenty plus demons stalking toward them in the narrow corridor. He didn’t like this, not their smiles nor their slow pace. His skin itched with apprehension. “Where’s Navarre?”

  “Headed to the council room, last I saw,” Bareth answered, twisting his sword in his hand, impatient to split a demon in two.

  “What?” Captain Savard snapped, grabbing Bareth’s shirtsleeve in his fist. “I left him in the arena. Was Sampson with him?”

  “No.” Bareth shook his head slowly, then his jaw dropped, as if he’d just realized what his words meant.

  “He’ll be trapped,” Captain Savard whispered. The demons were no longer important. “Nero, Soren, Flynn. Come with me. Bareth, take command.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bareth smiled with eager anticipation.

  “Guardians!” Captain Savard’s voice echoed down the halls. “Follow Bareth. He will bring justice this day.”

  The Guardians roared their acceptance even as Captain Savard moved through his men with the chosen three on his heels.

  “For Balinese!” Bareth yelled.

  “Balinese!” the Guardians behind him roared in response.

  Once they’d cleared the Guardians, Soren and the three men with him vanished, took their Spirit forms and raced through walls and earth. This was the shortest route to the council room. One corridor, one waiting room, a short hallway and they would be there.

  Captain Savard released his Spirit in the waiting room, and ran.

 
; “Captain?” Steffen’s voice came over the captain’s radio.

  Captain Savard cursed as he answered the call, running with a sword in one hand and now a radio in the other. Soren and the other Guardians ran behind him, their footfalls heavy, determined.

  “I’m a little busy,” the captain replied, nearly growling.

  “I see red eyes. Demons are in the woods,” Steffen said.

  “How many?”

  “Ten. Fifteen, maybe.” The radio crackled, but between the static Steffen said one clear word: “Coming.”

  “Hold your ground!” Captain Savard shouted into the radio as they rounded the corner. They were mere feet from the council room. “Do you hear me, Steffen? Hold your ground! Don’t let those vermin through our gates!”

  “I thought they’d already breeched the gates,” Soren said, dread curling in his stomach.

  The radio went dead.

  Captain Savard threw open the doors to the council room and they charged inside. Empty. It was empty.

  “Damn. Find him!” their captain yelled as he ran back out the door.

  “How?” Nero called after him.

  “We try his rooms.” Captain Savard surged forward, racing far ahead of his men.

  Soren had never seen the captain so angry, or push himself so hard. He’d always been the levelheaded one, the crisis control, the solid ground. They needed their captain composed right now, as Guardians, and as men who had families somewhere in the city.

  Not many had ever witnessed raw emotion from Captain Savard. Had the attack brought it out, or Navarre’s disappearance?

  They finally reached the secluded wing belonging to the lord of Balinese. It was quiet, still. Soren feared they were too late.

  “Navarre!” Captain Savard yelled, bursting into Navarre’s home.

  No answer, or any sound at all. Soren searched the adjoining rooms. Nothing.

  “Oh, no. No!” Flynn’s aggrieved cry tore through them. Soren’s heart lurched. They ran to him, each step seeming sluggishly surreal.

  Sampson lay on the floor, discarded, several gaping holes in his chest. In death, his fingers still clenched his bloodied sword. That he was not Navarre didn’t make it any easier.