Daughters of Eve Collection (Books 1, 2 & 3)

by Bourdon, Danielle

  But she was between them, straining for release against her binds. He could hear her muffle his name into the rag in her mouth. Begging.

  This was ridiculous. He could even smell the faint musk that he knew was her scent, one matched to no other woman. It was Evelyn, not a ruse or a disguise. And yet it couldn't be.

  Rhett stalked forward, sheathing his sword. He pulled the dagger free and stepped behind her, slicing through the binds. The rough rope fell away and she cried out against the gag when her arms came down. She yanked the rag out of her mouth and he pulled her to him, gripping the dagger in his fist, the other arm tight around her shoulders.

  “Oh Rhett, I thought you were going to leave me here. Hurry, get the thing and let's go,” she whispered against his armor.

  “I wouldn't ever leave you,” he said, voice ragged. Her hair smelled clean, fresh. Silky against his whiskered cheek.

  Gritting his teeth, he swung the blade around and stabbed her hard in the back of the neck. Fingers that had been gentle on his arm grew into talons, raking through the breaks in his armor near the elbow. She screamed, growing in size and breadth, becoming more than Evelyn, more than a soft woman with gentle pleas.

  Swifter than the eye could follow, she transformed from helpless victim to a broad shouldered, lean hipped, armored man with pale blonde hair and a vicious smile.

  The dagger still stuck out the back of his neck.

  Rhett was already drawing his sword by then, bracing a foot back to take a swing. They were face to face, a head on collision of mortal and immortal.

  Rhett could see the damage the holy dagger delivered, sending tremors through the Fallen so that its hands shook. The Fallen, towering at seven feet, caught the sword mid-arc and yanked Rhett to him. Blood squirted from the wound in the Fallen's nape and more dripped from the slice in his palm. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, to stop him.

  “You are not easily fooled, but you are a good actor,” the man said, grabbing Rhett's throat with his free hand.

  The instant pressure choked him and he let go of the sword to grapple with the Fallen's wrist. He felt his feet leave the ground.

  Flipping the sword by the blade, the blonde snagged it by the hilt, cocked his elbow back, and prepared to run Rhett through.

  The strength the man handled him with was unbelievable, impossible, holding him aloft like he was nothing. Running out of air, trusting the strength that was surely going to kill him, Rhett aimed a savage kick at the Fallen's hand. It connected; the sword flew out of its grasp, landing with a clank on the ground.

  At the same time, Rhett reached around to yank the dagger out of the man's nape, lifting it high with the intent of gouging out the Fallen's eyes. Level the playing field a little.

  The Fallen threw him before the strike landed. Rhett slammed against the wall and sank to the ground, stunned. Skittering across the floor, the dagger landed in front of the niche where the Seal sat. Wheezing, Rhett lurched sideways, grasping for the hilt of his sword. His fingertips grazed the polished handle but couldn't make purchase.

  A heavy boot crushed his knuckles, pinning his hand to the floor. Rhett scrambled with the other hand, hearing a hiss of steel as the Fallen withdrew its own sword from the sheath.

  Death was close. Rhett could feel it lurking in the room. His heart rate increased and he doubled his effort to reach the weapon before the Fallen could end him. What damage he'd inflicted just wasn't enough.

  In periphery, he saw the man grasp the hilt with both hands and raise the blade, tip aimed down.

  If he could just grab the damn handle. Lunging with a second effort, he scrabbled the sword closer by an inch. But he felt the plunge of the Fallen's weapon and tried to roll out of range, hand trapped under the boot.

  Face up, he saw the blade bounce off the chest armor, right over the iron cross engraved there. It didn't pierce his body, couldn't penetrate the protective layer of leather.

  Rhett was positive the runes and symbols played a big part in that. Otherwise, he'd be skewered to the ground. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs anyway, forcing a gush of air past his lips.

  Spying the hilt of a dagger strapped to the Fallen's boot, Rhett yanked it out of the sheath and stabbed it into the exposed part of the calf. Behind the shin, the armor consisted of only two straps, leaving him a good area to strike. He knew it was a minor distraction at best.

  The Fallen snarled and lifted the sword, ready to impale him again.

  This time, Rhett saw his aim shift toward his throat, where the curved armor ended. With the flat of his palm, he hit the side of the sword hard, swaying the tip away from his body. He rolled just as the Fallen recovered and stabbed the blade down, missing him by an inch.

  Rhett kept rolling right up to his feet, snaring his own sword on the way. Sweat dripped down his brow and into his eyes. He shook away the stunned buzz in his head from the impact against the wall.

  Although it felt like fifteen minutes had passed, he knew it had only been seconds. Taking a defensive stance, he brought the holy blade up to block an overhand strike, steel clanging and ringing. The Fallen, quick, strong and big, thrust against the cross the blades made, forcing him back several steps.

  Just as he swung an arc to counter the move, a flicker of motion entered his periphery. A moment later, a dagger lodged through the side of the Fallen's throat. The brute staggered, eyes bulging, one hand shooting up to try and yank the dagger out.

  Rhett changed tactics, raising his sword up over his head, the blade parallel to the ground, and pierced the Fallen through the front of his neck. It arched the tall man back, sword clanking to the stone at their feet. To assure himself a kill, he gave his sword a vicious twist, tearing an inch hole in the Fallen's flesh. Blood spurted from both wounds.

  Another dagger joined the fray, sinking into the spot under the armpit where the armor cut away.

  The Fallen convulsed and went to his knees, mouth moving over silent words that Rhett couldn't make out. He slid his sword free, breathing like he'd run a marathon, and watched as the Fallen slumped to the ground.

  Dragar, Dracht and Christian rushed over.

  “Good shot,” Rhett said. He knew Dragar had been the thrower. His father was the best of the group with daggers.

  “We couldn't figure out where you went,” Dracht said, staring down at the body. “Suddenly, you just weren't there in the tunnel.”

  “It was some kind of trick. Had to be. I lost you guys, too,” Rhett said, gulping huge draughts of air. “Glad you caught up when you did.”

  He wasn't sure how much longer he would have held on against his adversary. Sheathing his sword, he bent down to remove the daggers and hand them back to Dragar and Dracht.

  “I'm half surprised he didn't call up more of those creatures from outside,” Christian said. He stepped over to the short ledge where the page from the Book of Seals lay. With care, he picked it up, bracing the bottom with a palm.

  Rhett smeared the side of his bruised wrist across his upper lip. “He disguised himself as Evelyn. Pretended to be tied up to that post there. I almost bought into it. He would have had me—laughing all the way—if I hadn't noticed there wasn't another way into this cavern but the same tunnel I came down.”

  Dragar and Dracht snapped their attention on him.

  Rhett nodded. It had been that close of a call.

  “It looked just like her?” Christian said, frowning.

  “Fooled me for several minutes. So yeah. Exactly like her. The bastard better not have done anything to her.” An icy dread slithered along his spine at the thought the Fallen had to kill Evelyn to recreate the illusion. He glanced at the page with the disc Christian had and turned for the tunnel.

  “That wasn't something I expected them to do. We're going to have to be careful. They could do that to one of us,” Dracht said.

  Rhett grunted, sinking into the shadow of the tunnel. He was still smarting over having to kill 'Evelyn'. What if he'd been wrong? That question
wouldn't be easy to maneuver around, or forget.

  Nor the consequences if it had been her. He was sure that was part of the psychological twist, meant to haunt him long into the future.

  “Where are we going to stow the Seals? Can't have them somewhere on us--”

  “The girls. They can carry them.” Rhett stalked through the gloom. When shadows swallowed the candlelight, he pulled the sword out once more to let it cast off its vague veil of illumination.

  He wouldn't feel better until he set eyes on Evelyn. Behind him, the others followed close at his back.

  This time, they wouldn't be separated by illusion.

  †

  Evelyn hated the quiet. She wasn't fond of the thick, curling mist, either. It got to the point that she could barely see her sisters standing on the other side of the open doorway less than three feet away. The suffocating feeling made her tug at the collar of the armored shirt, even though the fit wasn't skin tight.

  It felt like there were things out in the fog watching. Waiting. She saw no pale, glowing eyes and the bats had disappeared. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of being observed.

  “The hair's standing up on the back of my neck,” Alexandra whispered.

  The mist proved to be a decent conduit for quiet conversation. Evelyn heard her with no trouble. She hoped that if anything else was out there, it didn't hear her, too.

  “Same here,” she whispered back.

  “Do you see anything out there?” Minna asked.

  “No. Not yet. The fog seems heavier though. It's hard to see further than a foot in any direction,” Evelyn replied.

  “And it's darker. Nightfall already? I've lost track of time,” Alex admitted.

  Evelyn realized she had no idea. None of them wore watches and without the sun to guide them, even in its blackened state, it was impossible to tell anything other than that night hadn't completely fallen yet.

  “Can't be nightfall. We wouldn't be able to see anything then.” Evelyn withdrew the dagger from its sheath. She felt better with some kind of weapon in hand.

  “If we keep talking, whatever's out there won't have to see to find us,” Minna pointed out.

  Evelyn clamped her lips together.

  Alexandra snorted but for once didn't argue.

  The roiling mist brushed cool and light against Evelyn's skin, a soft caress she wouldn't have minded any other time. Right now, it added to the claustrophobic sensation and she lifted her other hand to fan it away from her face.

  Where were the men? They'd been gone a long time. Probably not all that long, she argued with herself. It just felt that way. She was anxious over the knowledge the Knights were facing down an enemy that would be difficult to defeat. More Servants might have been hiding inside, or more of those creatures with the too-sharp teeth and eerie eyes.

  Maybe both.

  Movement to her right startled her and she gasped, jumping back, bringing the dagger out in front of her.

  It was Rhett, eyes a little wild, chest rising and falling like he was out of breath.

  Evelyn didn't see any blood or broken bones right off the bat.

  “Rhett?”

  He didn't answer; instead, he stepped into her, moving his sword out of the way, and hugged her to him with one arm. A fierce, poignant kind of hug that made her think he'd had a close call—or something—inside.

  “Are you all right? Where are the others?” Even as she asked, Dragar, Dracht and Christian filed out.

  “We're here and we're fine. We have the Seal. Can one of you check it to make sure it's authentic?” Christian said, handing it gingerly to Minna.

  She didn't need to touch it to know. None of them did. There was a certain sensation that resonated from the original discs that no one could ever duplicate.

  Minna nodded, examining the disc anyway. “It's real. What happened with the Fallen?”

  “Rhett had it about beat when we got there,” Dracht said, overstating things.

  “It about had me, he means, but it's dead and we have the first Seal.” Rhett spoke into Evelyn's hair.

  “I'm glad you're all right,” she said against his whiskered jaw. Evelyn wasn't sure she wanted specific details. There was something about the way he held her that was different than all the other times, as if he was reassuring himself she was okay. Except she hadn't been the one facing down the Fallen.

  “I'm glad you're all right, too. Wasn't sure what we'd find out here. Any trouble?” He drew back staring at her eyes.

  “Nothing other than the girls and I feel like we're being watched,” she admitted.

  Rhett glanced around, as did the others.

  “Could be. Let's go,” he said, speaking the last louder for the others to hear.

  “Know where we're going yet?” Dracht asked. He had his sword in his hand, searching the mist for predators.

  “It's vague. I think it'll get stronger once I get away from here,” Rhett said, unwrapping his arm from Evelyn.

  Dragar gave Rhett a nudge to the shoulder. “Lead the way. Time's wasting.”

  †

  Rhett led them back along the narrow street, through the fog, to the truck that was parked where they left it. The old city seemed as deserted as it had when they'd driven in. Evelyn wondered if more of the creatures had scared the citizens away or if it had been something else. Something the Fallen had concocted to keep a noisome public from wandering too close to the domain it claimed.

  Climbing into the back seat with Alex and Minna, she stowed her dagger in its sheath and scraped her hair back out of her face. Several strands had come loose from the band holding it back. Beside her, Alexandra eased the thick, skin-like paper in folds over the seal, giving it a little extra protection. Then she handed it to Minna for safe keeping. All the girls had pouches attached to their belts for this reason.

  Out the windows, Evelyn watched the licking tongues of fog creep over the streets and through the sandstone colored buildings, rolling into alleyways and crevices unabated.

  Rhett turned the truck around after they made sure Dragar and Christian were secure in the bed. He drove them out of the old city through the same gate they entered, picking up speed through stop signs, lights and other intersections that he paid little heed to.

  The fog didn't penetrate past the old city walls, which told Evelyn it had been the work of the Fallen. One more thing to make them uneasy and uncomfortable.

  People moved about like busy ants, darting to and fro, running back and forth while they went about their personal agendas. The streets teemed with pedestrian traffic and cars alike, especially downtown where the tallest buildings stood. Rhett jammed the brake several times to avoid hitting people who paid no attention to anything but their desire to flee.

  Evelyn wished she could tell them that no particular place was safer than another. The entire world, affected by the turmoil, suffered the same.

  Once Rhett hit the outskirts, where the road was less clogged with traffic, he picked up speed. They raced toward the airport, flying over wet pavement and the remnants of dead bugs.

  So many signs of the recent chaos remained. There was no escaping the obliterating clouds, the oppressive gloom. The terrain flattened out on each side of the long road, stretching off into acres of desert broken up by either more buildings or scrub.

  A low rumble built into a loud roar, a noise so disturbing that it startled everyone in the cab. Evelyn watched Rhett duck his head to look out the windshield and up at the sky even as the truck started to shake.

  “What is that?” Alexandra shouted, hanging on to the seat in front of her.

  “I don't know. Airplane?” Dracht wrenched a look around out the side window and up like he expected to see a commercial airliner coming in for a hard landing.

  “Would it make the truck shake like this?” Evelyn shouted over the din.

  Dragar and Christian banged on the top of the truck as if to let them know they too felt and heard it. Or maybe they wanted them to stop.

/>   “Earthquake!” Rhett stomped the brakes when a rip opened up the earth twenty feet in front of the Dodge. Carried forward by momentum, the truck lurched into the crevice. Slamming into the other side, the grill dug into the dirt, preventing a harrowing fall. They hung suspended in the air at a downward slant, the truck wedged at each end.

  Airbags deployed with a whoosh.

  Stunned, hanging on with both hands, Evelyn tried to clear the disorientation away. She didn't think she was seriously injured, only dazed. Her forehead hurt, indicating she'd smacked it against the front seat.

  “Minna, Alexandra, you all right?” A glance either direction showed neither of her sisters were bleeding or unconscious.

  “Ugh,” Alex muttered. That was her entire response.

  “Rhett?”

  “Evelyn, you all right?” Rhett asked, overlapping her own query.

  “We're fine. Dracht?”

  “Good,” Dracht replied with a gruff exhale.

  Twisting around, she saw Dragar still in the bed of the truck. Blood trickled from a cut beneath his chin but otherwise he seemed fine.

  Thrown over the top onto the hood, Christian scrabbled for a handhold. Catching the lip near the windshield, he braced his legs wide to prevent him from sliding off either side.

  Evelyn brought him into focus when she turned back around and sat forward with a gasp. “Christian!”

  Then, Christian let go.

  Evelyn's breath caught in her throat.

  Christian slid down the hood, boots making contact with the edge of the ground where the grill had burrowed into the earth. He threw himself backward, landing safely on the other side.

  The truck groaned. An ominous portent.

  “He had an easier time than we're going to,” Rhett predicted, shoving the deflated airbag out of his way.

  Out the windows, Evelyn saw a tear in the earth stretching miles in both directions. Some places the gap widened, others it narrowed. A few buildings in the distance looked cracked down the middle, others had been swallowed whole.

  A fresh rumble sent a shudder through her bones. How long before an aftershock hit? The truck, wedged as it was, wouldn't stay that way if the earth opened up even another foot.