Athena's Jewel: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Aya Harris Collection Book 2)

by Lacy Andersen

  Three trim figures stood in the middle of my rug. They were dressed from head to toe in black, with ski masks that covered most of their faces. Elegant black wings draped from their backs, reaching to the heels of their combat boots. Each figure stared at me, two pairs of brown eyes and one startlingly blue. They had wicked sharp talons that extended from their fingernails, curving into the palms of their hands.

  It took me a millisecond to figure out who they were. Harpies. The Harpy Quorum. Somehow, my vision had been wrong. They’d skipped grabbing me at work and were here, about to take me from my bed. I should’ve seen it coming.

  Before I could scream, a bag was thrown over my head and tied around my neck. Yelling for help was no use. The bag was enchanted to muffle my cries, no matter how loud I shouted. Someone violently twisted my arms behind my back and zip-tied them in place. At that angle, my talons were useless. The only weapon I had left were my wings, safety folded in the intricate tattoo across my back.

  With a whooshing sound, my wings unfurled across the bedroom. I squirmed and flapped them as hard as I could, twisting away from my captors. A head came in contact with my shoulder, snapping backwards when I flapped my wings again. I heard one of my kidnappers cry out and drop to the floor after the impact. Good. One down, two to go.

  A second pair of hands clutched at my ankles and dug their talons deep into my skin. Hot warm liquid ran down my foot from the wounds. A silent scream burst from my throat as I stomped down on the owner of the talons. The heel of my foot made contact with a nose - muffled cries followed the kick.

  There was only one harpy left.

  I considered running for help. Johnny was staying at Stephen's apartment, so no luck there. If I could run to the hall and wake someone up, I might not even have to fight the last one off. With that thought in mind, I scrambled for the door.

  A mental map of the apartment appeared in my brain. The bedroom door was four steps away. The apartment door would be another six steps to the left. With my hands tied behind my back, it'd be difficult to open the door, but not impossible.

  I made a run for it, taking two giant leaps toward the door before a force hit me between the shoulder blades and sent me tumbling to the ground. These harpies had magic on their side. If I didn't get out of here quick, they'd have no trouble bagging me.

  My feet found the floor again and I made another flying leap at the door. With as much effort as I could muster, I landed and sprinted through the living room. The apartment door was within reach. If I turned around and grabbed the doorknob, I'd be out of here in no time.

  Another blast of power hit me. Instead of throwing me to my knees, this one froze me in place. No matter how hard I fought, I couldn't move. My hands were inches from the doorknob. Another second and I would've been free.

  Light footsteps approached. I tensed my body, waiting for the final blow. After all the trouble I'd caused, I wouldn't be surprised if they just offed me right here and now. At least, it'd be better than starving slowly to death, wasting away for a month, watching my hair fall out and my ribs protrude from my chest. If I was going to die, I'd rather go down fighting. This was much better.

  Instead of a killing blow, soft hands proceeded to fold my wings against my back and tie them down. The same hands closed around my left elbow, as two other pairs grabbed my right arm. No words were exchanged. Instead, there was a swirling of movement as magic flowed around us and picked us off the ground.

  The blackness of the hood disoriented me. It felt like I was descending in a runaway elevator, my stomach flying up into my throat. My feet landed hard on solid ground once again, nearly depositing me on my rear end. The kidnappers steadied me, keeping me upright.

  Instantly, I was struck by the rumblings of a crowded room. There had to be at least a dozen people talking all at once. They quieted down as soon as my hood was untied and yanked off my head.

  It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the blinding fluorescent lights above me. The room was stark white and well lit, although none of it was natural light. In front of me was a padded reclining chair, like the kind they had at the dentist`s office. A computer screen and office chair stood next to it, with all manners of cords coming out of the computer.

  About twenty women of various ages stood in a crowd in front of me. Nothing was peculiar about them, except for the beautiful black wings that draped off their backs, hanging nearly to the floor.

  Harpies.

  I was in major trouble now. The room was much too small to accommodate all of them, so they packed in, shoulder to shoulder. A tall woman with black hair and a severe A-line cut stood in front of the pack. Her matching black eyes drilled through my skull, never blinking.

  I didn't have much time to take it all in. The woman to my left shoved me into the reclining chair. Her face was a bloody mess, her nose swollen and red. She must've been the one that got a kick to the face.

  Blue eyes rimmed in blonde lashes blinked at me from above the swollen nose. She had to be younger than me. Maybe eighteen. For a tiny moment, I felt bad for her. That nose wasn`t pretty. But then I remembered where I was and all my pity drained away.

  She held up her right hand and revealed a pocket knife with a silver blade. My heart skipped a beat. Were they going to torture me here? With everyone watching? I guess I shouldn`t be surprised.

  With a swift movement, she bent down and cut through the zip tie around my wrists, releasing my hands. I rubbed my wrists along the red marks they left behind, thankful that the knife had disappeared in the pocket of her black pants. I guess they didn`t expect me to fight back anymore - not when I was outnumbered twenty to one. Even I wasn't that crazy.

  The tall woman with the black hair stepped forward. "Aya Harris, my name is Ruth Andris. You've been summoned by the Harpy Quorum. You shall submit to a series of tests during which we will gauge your abilities." She cocked her head at me, as if daring me to argue with her.

  "Wait, what?"

  So… they weren't going to kill me? They wanted to test me? That didn't make any sense.

  "Why?"

  "You are a harpy. It is your duty to join our ranks," Ruth replied, waving an arm at the women standing behind her.

  Many of them nodded along and smiled.

  "You were not ready several years ago, but now you must take your place among your sisters."

  "You're not going to kill me?"

  Several of the women chuckled in response to my question. A few whispered back and forth.

  "No, not today," she replied with a humorous sigh.

  I looked down at my swollen wrists. The way they'd come into my apartment tonight, I was sure this was the end.

  "So, let me get this straight." I sat a little higher in the chair. "You tore me out of my home - out of my bed - in the middle of the night, to test my abilities and ask me to join the HQ? Did you ever think about sending a simple invitation first?"

  There was a sudden buzz of whispers throughout the room. What had once been a welcoming environment turned cold in an instant.

  Ruth flashed me a smile and shrugged. "I suppose it could've been handled more delicately. But, you ran the last time we approached you. We had to be sure that episode was not repeated. Once we knew you’d had a vision of our plan to find you, we changed it so that you couldn’t avoid us.”

  She had a point. Either way, I would've turned tail and ran as far as I could from the HQ. I'd done it before. And that explained why my vision had been wrong about the way they would kidnap me. It made sense that harpies could work around a psychic vision.

  "What if I refuse the testing?" I asked, my voice coming out bolder than I felt.

  My questions did me no favors. The women behind Ruth were beginning to glare at me. I ignored them and kept my eyes glued to Ruth's perfectly tanned skin. She had a mole above her left eye and the subtle beginnings of crow's feet. I would’ve guessed she had to be around fifty years old, but there wasn't a streak of gray in her hair.

  She blinked at
me. "Your mother didn't refuse the testing. She was proud to join our ranks. Is that really what you want?"

  I sucked in a quick breath. “You knew my mom?”

  When my mother was alive, I hardly ever met her sisters-in-arms at the HQ. It was a secret society. Too secret for an eleven-year-old girl. After she died, they didn’t exactly come around much. Only once - to attend her funeral. That was the last time I saw a harpy before they attacked me the night of Nicky’s first murder.

  “Yes, I knew her well. She would want you here,” Ruth replied.

  For my mother, the HQ was everything. It was her daily life. She lived and breathed the mission of the Harpy Quorum, to bring evil to justice and make the world a safer place for their children.

  Ruth was probably right; my mother would want me here. She’d want me to take up the role of protector. I just wasn’t sure that’s what I wanted. I had a museum to run. I had friends. My life had taken a different route. I didn’t know if I could just abandon it.

  When I didn’t say anything, Ruth sat at the extra chair and pulled it up to the computer. She touched the screen a few times, opening up programs and readying the machine. I wanted to tell her not to bother, that I wouldn't be joining their cult. But, I couldn’t find my voice.

  “This test will stretch your psychic vision powers,” Ruth began. “You will drink a potion and we will observe the effects through the computer. I must warn you, it can be a little jarring.”

  I nodded, although I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to do. I already had the psychic visions. Why did they need to observe them?

  The blonde with the broken nose brought out a small shot glass full of black liquid. It was as thick as Pepto-Bismol, but had a sweet sugary smell. I stared at it distrustfully.

  Potions could really mess a person up, if brewed incorrectly. Angel had tried to mix one for an energy boost last year. A magical energy drink, she’d called it. Instead of energy, she ended up in a coma for a day. It scared the crap out of me. Luckily, she came out of it after some help from a local wizard. But still, I didn’t like the idea of downing some mysterious potion.

  “Drink,” Ruth commanded.

  She handed me the shot glass and began hooking little sticky pads to me, with wires attached to them. A few went on my forehead, a few others attached to my chest.

  It felt like I was watching myself on a TV screen – like I was in some weird spy movie. Without much thought, I obeyed and gulped down the black liquid. It tasted sweet with a sharp aftertaste that lingered at the back of my tongue. The thick liquid slid down my throat and eventually landed hard in the pit of my stomach.

  The room was silent, waiting for a change. I could feel the impatience in the harpies closest to me. Several minutes went by, without anything happening. Even I began to get impatient.

  “How long does this stuff take…?”

  All of a sudden, the visions hit me like a two-ton semi-truck. The bright room dissolved in a flash and was replaced by a dark apartment. In the corner of the living room, a young child cowered, his face dirty and his jeans worn. A woman and a man stood in the middle of the room. Their mouths stretched wide open in screams, each of them red in the face with anger.

  I wanted to run across the room and hold the little boy, tell him everything would be okay. But my feet were glued to the threadbare carpet. My throat wouldn’t make a sound. I watched in silence as the man pulled a silver handgun from the waistband of his pants and pointed it at the woman. He screamed again before sinking three bullets into her skull.

  Her body dropped to the floor, her face lifeless and still like a morbid Barbie doll. The little boy just crouched next to the couch and stared. I yelled at him to look away, but he didn’t hear me.

  In a heartbeat, the apartment was swept away, and in its place was a dusty and hilly field. I didn’t recognize the location. It could be anywhere in the world, but it certainly wasn’t Arcana.

  Two men with dark and weathered skin stepped into view. They had fabric wrapped around their heads and long scraggly beards. Deep in conversation, they didn’t even look up as they passed me. I reached out a hand to touch the man closest to me, but my arm passed right through his shoulder. It was like I was a ghost.

  The men stopped a few paces past me and looked around. I didn’t see anything, but I could hear a rumbling in the distance. Suddenly, a team of five horses appeared at the top of the next hill. The horses pranced and bucked as their riders reined them in while observing the two men on foot.

  It didn’t take long for the riders to kick their horses into a gallop. They chased the men, screaming words in a language I didn’t recognize. Helplessly, I watched the men on horseback pull out guns from their sides and shoot down the men, nearly trampling them as they fell.

  Blood pooled in large brown circles on the ground. Shouts of victory deafened me as the riders jumped off their horses and turned their victims over. Even from my vantage point, I could tell one of the men was still alive. His chest heaved with the effort it took to breathe with two bullets in the back. I got up on my feet, desperate to move. If I didn’t stop them, he was going to die.

  A portly man with a missing index finger pulled out his gun and strode toward him. He pointed his gun without ceremony and shot. With a last jerk of the body, the man on the ground was dead, his final breath leaving his body.

  I gasped and felt the world tilt again. Scenes flashed before my eyes like film through a projector. Men slaughtering men. Women being beaten. Children locked up in tiny spaces. Blood and guts and tears. Each image sucked the breath out of me like a hard punch to the gut.

  I saw knives and guns and bats and bare fists. So many ways to kill a man - each of them as effective as the last. With all of the violence, a small thought in the back of my head worked its way to the front. If this potion didn’t end soon, I was going to die in this tilt-o-whirl of death. My head couldn’t take any more.

  Chapter Four

  Just when I thought I was going to pass out, my vision dumped me in a thick forest, the night sky inky black through the leaves above my head. My stomach reeled, threatening to come up my throat. There was so much death in the world. Who knew when these visions would stop? That potion could last for hours.

  I’d be dead by then.

  A young couple appeared in front of me. Dinky flashlights hung loosely in their hands, which did a poor job of lighting up a path in front of them. This was the clearest vision yet. I could even make out their features. The girl was brunette with green eyes and freckles. Her companion was athletic with a small gap in his front teeth. They held hands as they walked, staying close together.

  “Don’t you dare run off,” the girl scolded with an accent I couldn’t place. Maybe somewhere in the U.K. “I don’t care what Andy wants to do. You are not leaving me with those girls.”

  The boy laughed. “Come on, Candy. They’re not that bad. You said you liked Brittney.”

  “I said I could possibly like her. That doesn’t mean I want you guys to abandon us tonight for some stupid prank. You know someone will figure out it’s you guys and then you’ll get expelled. Do you really want to miss the season’s last match?”

  There was a rustling in the trees to their right. The couple stopped and turned, pointing their useless flashlights into the brush.

  “What was that?” Candy asked.

  The boy shrugged, moving aside the leaves for a better look. “Andy, if that’s you, give it up. We’re not afraid.”

  I had a bad feeling about these woods. They were the kind of woods you’d avoid late at night. The trees were thick and all animal noises had suspiciously disappeared. Someone could get lost in here for days and never find their way out.

  A small girl in a white dress appeared in front of the couple, causing all three of us to scream and jump back in fright. The young girl stood there, cocking her head to the side. Her big dark eyes watched the couple without blinking. Long auburn hair framed her pale face, with the top half pulled back into
a cute white bow. From the looks of her lacy knee-length dress, she belonged to a different century.

  “Please…” the young girl whispered.

  Her thin voice sent shivers down my spine.

  The couple stood frozen to the ground. It took a moment for Candy to come to her senses, but when she did, she took a timid step forward.

  “Do you need help?” Candy asked.

  Her boyfriend shot her a crazy look that must’ve mirrored the expression on my own face.

  “Do you need help crossing over?” she continued.

  With a groan, her boyfriend pulled her back. “Crossing over? Are you crazy?”

  My sentiments exactly.

  “Yeah. I used to watch Ghost Whisperer all the time with my mum,” Candy answered, as if that settled it.

  The little girl looked back and forth between the couple, a grin growing on her face. It didn’t match her sweet appearance. Her lips curled up at the sides revealing sharpened teeth and a deep black hole where the inside of her mouth should’ve been. A sudden chill permeated the forest, leaving a thin layer of frost on the leaves.

  “What the…?” The boy pulled Candy back, protecting her with his arm.

  “Please... I need you,” the little girl squeaked.

  Gone was the creepy grin. In its place was a demonic scowl that bared her sharp teeth. The little girl lunged at the couple, grabbing the boy by his sleeve. I closed my eyes just as she was lowering her mouth to his jugular, but that didn’t block out the sound of his scream which cut off in an awful gurgle. Candy didn’t get too far. The demon child chased after her and repeated the procedure, claiming two victims in a matter of minutes.

  Nausea filled my stomach. I doubled over, again threatening to vomit up the last bit of Ben & Jerry’s I’d stuffed in my mouth during a late rerun of Seinfeld. I knew if I opened my eyes, blood would be everywhere. Even now, I could smell it.

  I’d never had a vision this clear before. The chill in the air, the soft breeze through the forest, the scent of the blood. It was as if I was actually standing there beside the two bodies. I wanted out. I needed to get out now.