The Order (Nightwalkers Book 8)

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The Order (Nightwalkers Book 8) Page 4

by Candace Wondrak


  “You’re no murderer.”

  A bitter smile formed. Liz must not have read the reports about John. For all I knew at the time, he was human when I pushed my rose blade through his heart. Even though he wasn’t, I was still a killer. I had the capacity to be one, even if my mother was an Angel.

  Still, I found myself saying, “I never said I was going to do it.”

  Liz was stupid to think I couldn’t walk away from being a Purifier, even stupider that she thought it was a profession other kids would die for, but she was smart enough to know what I meant. “You plan on using Crixis.”

  My silence was my answer.

  “You do know Crixis is one of the most wanted Demons for a reason. You’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

  Yes, I knew better than most what he was capable of. I’d both seen it firsthand and secondhand, in my visions. I knew his past more than she did, more than the Council did. Not saying I agreed with any of his choices, but I could understand where they came from. Losing everything was the most horrible feeling in the world.

  “He will turn on you, kill you, Kass.”

  I couldn’t deny that. It was probably true. This nice-guy persona that he wore currently was a switch from his usual temperament. But, that said, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I wasn’t going to rely on him for everything. Only Michael. Just Michael.

  Liz held her head high as she said, “I cannot endorse your decision. The Council will be notified.”

  “Then call them and tell them. While you’re waiting for instructions, I’ll take care of everything.” I didn’t wait for her to respond. Spinning on my heel, I stormed out of my room, passing a quiet Max in the hall. His head turned as I walked by, but I didn’t look at him. I didn’t even glance at Gabriel’s closed door.

  Once I made it to the first floor, I headed straight for the door and went out on the front porch, where Crixis stood, leaning against the railing overlooking our long driveway.

  “You people are always so full of drama, aren’t you?” Crixis mused with a smirk, sluggishly turning to face me. “So much angst. Doesn’t it get tiring after a while? Don’t you just want to let loose?”

  I gave him a glare. “I think your letting loose and my letting loose are two completely different things.” One involved murder and blood, while the other involved binge eating and watching Netflix. Yes, two very different things. Until recently, Gabriel was my movie buddy. Now…

  Crixis shrugged. “What can I say? I do have a certain flair.”

  In spite of it all, in spite of myself and how much I hated him, in spite of our shared history, I laughed. A certain flair? Was that what he called it? “Then you heard what was said upstairs.”

  “I did, though I also did my best not to listen to you all whining about your current predicament. If there is one thing I hate, it is whiners.” Crixis’s green eyes twinkled in the dimming daylight. “And liars.”

  It suddenly occurred to me Crixis didn’t find himself a liar. Odd, because I’d consider him one. He’d done nothing but…well, okay. Maybe he wasn’t a liar, per se. But a murderer was worse than a liar, in anyone’s book.

  When he said nothing else, I spoke, “So? Will you?”

  He feigned interest, rolling his neck and cracking his knuckles in silence. Crixis hummed as he thought, weighing his options. I wanted to punch the smug look right off his face. Finally, he said, “I do wish to hear you say it, Purifier. Ask me.”

  “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” I growled out, crossing my arms over my chest. He just wanted to hear me beg. I wasn’t going to. I’d rather search this whole town, the entire state, even the whole darn world before I begged Crixis to help me.

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that. As if I am out of my rights.”

  “You don’t deserve anything, Crixis, after everything you’ve done to me.”

  There was a moment before he muttered, “I deserve that. But, alas, I still want to hear you say it.”

  My fingers itched to get around his throat, not that they’d do much damage. I’d freaking staked him before, and he apparently walked away fine. Crixis was not a Demon I could purify using any usual means, as terrible as it was. Between thin lips, I muttered, “Will you help me?”

  “Help you with what?”

  “Help me deal with Michael?” I glared harder. “You already said you’d kill him, and I know you’re more than happy to do it, but I don’t want you to kill him. I need you to bring him here, preferably tied up and unconscious.”

  “You want the Templar alive. Why?”

  The answer to that should’ve been more than obvious. “So we can find out where their base of operations is, why he tried to kill me, and what they want with Gabriel. Why would he want him…awakened, or whatever? It doesn’t make sense. From what Liz said, they’re religious fanatics, not Devil worshippers.”

  “Sometimes, those who proclaim themselves most holy are, in fact, the most unrighteous of them all,” Crixis spoke, referencing his past that was very long, very bloody, and not what I wanted to hear about. “I was in the area when the Crusades took shape. They were bloody things.”

  “I didn’t come to you for a history lesson,” I said.

  “I know. I only find it odd the Templars are interested in your boyfriend. Why would a group of holy warriors want to unleash the Devil?”

  “For the millionth time, he’s not my boyfriend.” It felt truer now than it did before, when Gabriel was actually nice to me. Nicer, anyway. Now, he was the farthest thing from my boyfriend. He wasn’t even acting like a friend. “And I don’t know. Hence the reason why we need Michael alive—”

  A slow smile spread across his face. In the twilight, he was handsome. His dark, tan, middle-eastern skin tone was a beautiful contrast to his green eyes and black hair. If only he wasn’t so old and murderous. “Did you truly use the word hence without any sarcastic quips? My, what is this world coming to?”

  “—at least in the beginning,” I finished.

  He inhaled, far too dramatic for his own good. “How cold. I like it.”

  “Don’t get used to it. I’ve had a rough day.”

  “Very well. Let’s get started then, shall we?” He gave me a smile, and I felt like vomiting. Working with Crixis was the last thing I wanted to do, but here I was. I followed him into the house, listening to his instructions.

  We tore through everything that might’ve poisoned me. We threw out all the food in the house, all my soap and shampoo, even the toothpaste. Liz and Max watched. Liz did no helping, refusing to be in the same room as Crixis, while Max silently padded around the house and did his part to take out the trash. Gabriel, unsurprisingly, remained locked away in his room.

  That was just fine with me. I couldn’t handle dealing with his attitude right now. I had a job to do.

  Chapter Eight - Liz

  A numbness crept over me as the hours passed. I sat in the living room, feeling sick as I stared at the chest. Kass enlisted Crixis’s help, and together with Max, they went through the entire house. There were a dozen bags of garbage sitting on the front porch by the time everything was done.

  And, even then, it wasn’t quite finished. They weren’t quite done. They took themselves to the second floor, to the training room, as they whispered amongst themselves. Max didn’t go with them; it was at that time he returned to me, sitting near me.

  Max was a kind boy. Past his glasses, anyone could see through his eyes he’d witnessed a lot of horrible things. He was stationed in Cleveland, before. I didn’t know who made the call of where the Guardian/Purifier pairs were stationed, but it certainly seemed like Cleveland was the wrong place for such an unassuming Irish boy. I’d never been to Ohio, but I had heard stories.

  I held my phone tight in my hands, sweat almost causing me to drop it. I couldn’t look at Max, nor could I gaze at the chest any longer, so I drew my eyes to the wooden wall, picturing Michael getting thrown from the room like a ragdoll. Even knowin
g his secrets, a part of me still cared for him, still loved him.

  A part of me always would. He was my first love, my first steady boyfriend, way back before either of us got our positions. We trained under the Council’s watchful eye for years, learning the ins and outs of the organization. How could he have been lying all along? Who was that good of a liar?

  It hurt, knowing I fell for his lies so easily. I liked to think I was at least decent in detecting them, but apparently I knew nothing. Betrayed, upset, disappointed; I felt it all, and the feelings would not fade any time soon.

  “I am a fool,” I whispered aloud.

  Max had his hands on his knees, dragging them across his jeans as he quietly spoke, “You’re not. If you are, we all are.”

  I appreciated what Max was trying to do, but at the same time, I knew he was only saying it to make me feel better. At this point, nothing would shake the nausea of knowing I slept with the enemy.

  Michael was our enemy.

  Even if I could come to terms with it, I could never grip the fact Kass wanted to sic Crixis on him like some kind of dog. Surely Michael deserved better than…no, I corrected myself. He doesn’t. He tried to kill her. It made sense she wanted him to pay.

  I knew I should do more to stop her, but any agents of the Council were probably too far away. Crixis could scour the entire city, perhaps even the state, before backup arrived to handle Kass and lock her up. But, the strangest part of this was, I didn’t call the Council again after Kass’s argument with me. I should have. Deep down, I think I knew this was the end of everything I’d ever known.

  Kass would do whatever she wanted to do. She was a stubborn girl, not the perfect Purifier in any sense. How she had lasted this long was beyond me. She made countless rash decisions, spoke without thinking, all without paying heed to the possible consequences. In fact, she probably didn’t care about the consequences. If her little stint with Crixis resulted in Michael dead or any casualties, she wouldn’t care enough to look at the fallout.

  Before coming here with Taiton, I read every report I could get my hands on. Kass was the epitome of bad decisions. Koath clearly was slack in his tutelage of her. No good Purifier acted as she did. None.

  Her so-called resignation weighed on me, too. What did she mean, she was quitting the Council? That she wouldn’t purify a single thing after Michael and the Order were taken care of? She couldn’t just walk away. She…couldn’t.

  I read the report before sending it over. Sephira had her hands on Kass’s neck, and with great, supernatural strength, her neck snapped. There was no surviving something like that. Kass came back to life, almost by the power of magic. Did it mean she was not human, either? Could she be something else, like Gabriel? Even I wasn’t sure what to make of him. Michael and the Order believed him to be the Devil reincarnated or something? How preposterous.

  How impossible.

  I did witness how he burned her, almost naturally, without trying to. Many Demons had burner capabilities. Simply because the boy had some control over fire and heat did not necessarily mean he was the Devil. Something as all-powerful as a reincarnated Lucifer? The Council would’ve heard of it, would’ve done something to purify the boy before he grew up—and certainly they would never have let him become a Purifier himself.

  “Kass told me,” Max spoke, breaking me from my thoughts, “she quit the Purifiers.” He took his glasses off and fiddled with them on his lap, looking as uneasy as I felt.

  Exhaling, I said, “Being a Purifier is not the same thing as being on a sports team. You can’t just quit.” In my heart of hearts, I honestly believed it. I did. Maybe I was just a Council lackey after all.

  “I know, but how could you force her?” There was a beat before he asked, “How could you force any of us?”

  The second question caused me to glance at him sharply. Surely Max wasn’t also thinking of doing something as foolish as saying he wanted to quit? He was smarter than Kass, worlds more intelligent. Surely he knew that…

  “Would you have the Council send agents after us? Would we be considered rogue Purifiers?” Max met my stare, letting me know he was well aware of the Council’s practices. Rogue Purifiers were not common, but when they happened, there was always a backup plan.

  “Are you saying,” I chose to ignore his line of questions, “you want to leave as well?”

  “I’m not. I’m only asking because sometimes I’m tired.”

  “Go, rest—”

  “No. It’s a type of tired that won’t go away after eight hours of sleep. I mean, I’m tired. I feel it in my bones. I just want it to be over, sometimes.”

  “Max,” I pleaded with him, leaning over so I could put a hand on his shoulder. “You have a holy duty to protect the world from Demons. It’s hard, tiring, and sometimes impossible, but someone has to do it. You are a good Purifier, don’t ever forget that. You are stronger than you think you are.”

  He was slow to put his glasses back on. “Thank you, but you never answered my question. Would you send the Council after us?”

  I took my hand off him, sitting straight. “Is this about Claire? I know you started seeing each other, but—”

  “You know she’s a Morpher.”

  “I haven’t included her Demonic side in my reports. I can keep her out of them.”

  “But it’s no guarantee the Council will always leave her alone, is it? Claire is a good person—” I couldn’t argue with him, even though I really wanted to say she wasn’t truly a person at all. “—and she’s strong, but she couldn’t survive an onslaught of Council agents.”

  I sighed. “I cannot guarantee her safety for the rest of her life. It would be impossible.”

  Max abruptly stood, shaking his head slightly as he said, “I’m not saying I want to leave the ranks of the Purifiers. I’m just starting to realize how hard it is, and I understand why Kass is leaving.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

  I ran a hand through my hair. Losing two Purifiers was not something I could put in my reports. Kass would have to see reason, and the moment she did, Max’s doubts would disappear. I prayed it would be the case.

  Of course, as I sat there contemplating this, I couldn’t help but recall my own doubts. Claire might’ve been a Morpher, but she hadn’t shown any of the aggression supposedly dominated the race. She could even handle seeing Crixis without turning, without snapping at anyone. It was proof not all of the Council’s data on various Demons was true. Some of it had to stem from researcher bias, but how much? How much of everything that I was taught wasn’t completely true?

  I buried my face in my hands after setting my phone aside. The Council wasn’t about to call. They were hours ahead of us, in the middle of their night. If they sent anyone to survey the damage, they wouldn’t come until sometime tomorrow, and by that time, it was very likely Crixis would already have found Michael.

  Michael.

  My stomach lurched, and I felt the urge to get sick. This entire ordeal truly messed me up, hadn’t it? Quite honestly, I couldn’t even imagine seeing him again, not after what he did. Surely, he would look different, guilty, somehow. He wouldn’t look the same—he’d look like a traitor, like a scoundrel and a liar.

  I knew it wouldn’t be the case. He’d probably look as he did before: a tad on the skinny side, messy dark hair, eyes that shone of kindness behind his thin-rimmed glasses. Was everything a lie? Was our relationship just one of convenience? Did he feel for me at all?

  A new, horrid thought crept into my brain. It was very possible and quite probable Michael didn’t love me. He could’ve faked it the entire time. Every touch, every kiss, all a lie. It was an awful thing to think.

  How could I have been so stupid? To feel broken because of the mistakes and traitorous actions of a man. My parents would be so very disappointed in me, and frankly, I was disappointed with myself. I was more than willing to give Michael every single part of me. I loved him with every ounce of me. If he faked it all, if he didn’t love me bac
k, it was the worst pain of all.

  I wanted, as childish as it was, to cry.

  Chapter Nine - Crixis

  I roamed the town, having left Kass behind to ready the room. Their sparring room would make the perfect interrogation room. It may not have had metal bars, but it was a windowless, gloomy space full of training pads and wood walls, dark and dank. Just the right atmosphere to really shake anyone once they were tied up and otherwise incapacitated. I gave her little instruction, leaving most of it to her imagination. She’d probably drag a kitchen chair up to it, but what would she use for the restraints? Duct tape? Zip ties? Or maybe rope or belts? Belts made a good weapon for hitting.

  Of course, we didn’t need to torture Michael. I would be able to compel him to tell us the truth, but who was I to stop the girl’s fun? A Kass off the rails was a Kass that was very amusing. Whatever she wanted to do to him, I’d stand back and let her. I wouldn’t play the moral high ground. I hadn’t stood there for a long time.

  Once the darkness of night encased the city, I headed to the backyard, where the window had been smashed. Glass still sat in the grass, as far as eight feet away from the house. Gabriel had thrown him pretty far. I didn’t expect less, considering what he was. I was sure he could’ve thrown Michael much farther.

  I knelt on the grass, searching the glass pieces. My eyes grew accustomed to the darkness instantly, pupils expanding. Night vision was always useful, especially in situations like this. If he was thrown as hard as I pictured, it would not be so far-fetched some of these shards would have a bit of blood on them. Michael, in all odds, fell back, onto the glass on the grass. He would’ve had to roll or use his hands to get up so he could run away. Surely, at least one piece had cut into his flesh.

  My eyes scanned the glass shards, reflecting the full moon’s light. On the rightmost side of the mess, I finally spotted a jagged piece that did not reflect the silver light so fully because its clear surface was smudged with maroon.

 

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