“Don’t you use his voice!” she hissed. “Can’t you stay out of my way, now that he’s so close?” She looked down at her bloodied legs. “None of this will stop me.” Kayla took hold of the chain, untangling herself from its grip.
Asher’s face darkened. “Kayla, Tregenne is in pursuit—”
The fire at her back flared up, and she dropped her head, biting her lip to suppress a cry. When she raised her eyes, the two men were close, boxing her in, and she let the weapon in her hand cut the air with a violent snap.
Bruno was struck still, unsure of what happened until he became aware that his forearm was bloodied with a series of jagged slices. His gaze wandered dazedly to see Kerif’s stunned expression as he held his bleeding shoulder with both hands, and it was then he noticed Kayla drop the chain and begin to run again, the red marks down her legs highlighted by the blaze that surrounded her.
“That was me, you idiot,” Kerif groaned, half-heartedly attempting to kick his Captain. “At least my illusion still works on someone.”
“Kerif,” Bruno muttered, staring beyond his friend, his eyes fixed in horror, “I wish that was you now…”
The pirates watched helplessly as Evangeline pulled Kayla toward her by a handful of hair, her trench knife extinguishing a portion of the Nephil’s fire as it carved a slash through the corresponding symbol that marked Kayla’s back.
35
Kayla could feel an uncomfortable change in temperature, paired with a sharp, stinging pain beside her spine. That area was numb with cold, while the rest of her burned even more intensely. She struggled to throw off her assailant, but her movements were controlled by her attacker’s tight hold on her hair.
“Serafin leaves you with only Tregenne’s stooges for protection?” she heard Evangeline giggle. “He really did give up, didn’t he?”
Kayla thrashed as she felt her flesh being carved again by the Arch’s blade, but her enemy reined her in by her tresses, yanking her into a narrow space between two buildings. “If Asher found him, Tregenne is dead by now,” Kayla gasped, her fire erupting from behind her left shoulder, releasing the pressure built up from the channels of energy that Evangeline cut off. She reached out, her hands scraping against plaster walls and planks of wood that enclosed the cramped space. Kayla wrenched her neck back towards the pirates, but the tight entrance to the alley was now choked with fire.
“That’s right, you’re alone with me now, darlin’,” Evangeline whispered. “If Serafin won the battle, where is he now?” She clicked her tongue mockingly before mutilating another glowing sigil.
A numbing sensation washed over Kayla, all of her senses gripped by stillness. Evangeline’s taunts weren’t idle. Wasn’t it her own certainty that Asher was badly hurt and needed her help that drove her out into the streets this morning? Her body sagged. She could sense him still, only a few winding corners away from where she was now being held captive, his life slowly draining out of his body. But he wasn’t alone. Pulsating sparks of energy were pulled up her arms like stinging trails of lightning. She knew she was only able to feel Jeremy because of this cursed bond she shared with that child of the Saros. The pressure was building beneath her shoulders. After what he had done, Tregenne meant nothing. And this woman was just another Arch standing in her way.
Kayla’s waning strength suddenly surged through her, expressing itself as both a billow of fire from her fractured wings and a notched blade from her Intercessor. Her weight dropped down through her legs as she bent deeply, swiftly stepping backwards, and plunged her blade into Evangeline’s thigh. The Arch snarled, leaning forward, but Kayla smoothly grabbed the shoulder of her uniform, and then a quick twist of her body was all it took to throw her enemy to the ground. As Evangeline’s back collided with the confining wall of the alley, Kayla sprung towards her, her father’s Intercessor engaged. The Arch was dazed, but she still had enough presence of mind to drag her bracelets of bone up over her forearms, the angelic script behind her ears gleaming as she spiraled around to meet Kayla’s attack.
The Nephil’s weapon caught in her enemy’s gauntlet, and she reached for the other hilt still imbedded in flesh, yanking hard to retrieve both. There was a moment of unyielding resistance before the weapons were released suddenly, causing Kayla to stumble backward, losing her grip on her Intercessor. Evangeline’s screeching battle cry echoed through the alleyway as she threw her body over Kayla’s, pinning her to the ground and prying her father’s blade from her fingers. The Nephil jerked wildly as she was disarmed, and the hilt skidded against the pavement, out of reach. Her fire spread out over her head, curling about her shoulders, as her back was pressed hard to the concrete.
Evangeline stretched Kayla’s arms up, restraining her movement by pushing her wrists into the broken road stones. The Arch easily rode the waves of her opponent’s thrashing, dropping her weight down strategically over each rising movement beneath her. “This is all you could glean from Lord Za’in’s teachings?” she whispered huskily with a haughty shake of her head, clearing the pink-tinged hair from her eyes. “You’re nothing. I don’t know why he thinks he needs you.”
Kayla could barely breathe. She could only think of what brought her here. It was the fire that now encircled her and the unyielding serenity that had first come with it. For once, even if it was sudden and senseless, she had been truly certain about her course of action and of her ability to follow through. She had finally felt like the Nephil that was worth seeking and protecting. Where was all of that now? Without her Intercessors, she suffered her human helplessness again. And this woman, how was she not burned by the flame? Kayla stared hard at the symbol behind her ear as Evangeline shifted her weight. Its tiny glow reached out into the air, surrounding her adversary with a faint blue aura. Kayla then felt the familiar sensation of sharp tendrils inching over her hands and clamping down painfully at irregular intervals. Her body shook softly. There was no defense for this, nothing she could do to fight back. Except… She struggled to remember the impressions of Evangeline she experienced from her journey into Jeremy’s memory, in a desperate attempt to grasp some ammunition.
“Of course you don’t understand Sebastian’s plans,” she whispered breathlessly. “He always said that, among his Spheres…the Second Ophan Fiora…was still the most detestably human beneath all the Mods.” Kayla was weakened from the effort to wound her and she felt herself go limp, even as her will to resist wracked her body with little jerking motions.
Evangeline’s grip on her loosened for a moment before an increasing pressure threatened to shatter Kayla’s bones. “You think this is about you? You happen to have something Lord Za’in can use, and he’s going to take it from you before you die. That’s all. There is nothing special about your family, except that they are exceedingly easy for us to kill. Are you proud that Saros follows you? Its orders he’s following, sweetheart. From the moment you saw his face — oh, what an interesting coincidence that you ran into an Arch on your first day away from home — any shred of charm he managed to scrounge up to hide his disgust and beguile you was just a part of his job description. Lucky for him, you’re so easy. If he had to work any harder to get you in the dirt, he might not have had the stomach to go through with it. But I should thank you. I’ve been enjoying erasing that unwanted memory from his mind for many nights now!”
Kayla’s body went cold for a moment. Was nothing hers alone? Those private remembrances that Evangeline perverted and spat out were sacred. Even as she moved wrathfully towards Jeremy tonight, ready to take revenge for Asher’s wounds, those memories were a comfort. They held no hope for future happiness, but they were a reminder that broken things once had form, and that, inside her mind, she could keep what she treasured most from being tainted by decay.
The fetters tightened around her hands, and Evangeline’s voice sounded distant. A wave of pain flooded over her insides and seeped out her pores. But the suffering wasn’t hers. Before she could search for Asher’s energy through this famili
ar conduit, her limbs swelled with the last of Jeremy’s wasted vitality. Kayla was completely still, focusing on her struggle within. She couldn’t guess his motivations, and even that didn’t matter. She didn’t want to borrow his strength for any reason. Her entire form stiffened with rejection.
Kayla’s eyes opened with quavering lids, and it was the sight of Evangeline’s wicked grin that changed her mind. She would end this useless diversion now. She let the heat rise: all the hatred and pain, bliss and adoration, every glowing spark of blue and red, angelic hosts singing spirals of glory around nothing, and human limbs with bonds that allowed toil but no chance of ascension…
She pulled her hands out from beneath Evangeline’s grip, the fetters undulating and flailing like frustrated, hungry leeches. The Arch lurched forward and Kayla slid out sideways from beneath her weight. As Evangeline caught her balance and turned swiftly back towards her, Kayla drew her body up and threw herself at her opponent, fists first. The fire at her back was so intense that she could no longer feel the flesh that separated it from her insides, as she shot explosive tongues of flame against the walls of the alleyway. She dropped heavily onto Evangeline’s torso, one hand gripping the Arch’s throat, while she raised her other fist above her head. These bones, beneath their corruption, were of her own kind and she had the right to reclaim them. Kayla willed the blackened fragments to move, gathering in jagged clusters around her knuckles. The foreign force within her trembled warmly with satisfaction as she noticed the still, fearful eyes of her enemy, moments before her fist descended, shattering bone. Kayla’s tears evaporated before they fell, her spiny knuckles connecting again and again with the form that lay helpless beneath her. She was an act of nature, of sinful man, of absent God. She was divine retribution, and she was everything that tore them both apart. Blood splattered against her cheek, that sudden, familiar wetness freezing her movements with a choking force that sobered her frenzied mind.
“Asher!” she screamed, her voice thundering like millions of beating wings. Kayla rose to her feet, her gold eyes regarding the bloodied weapons she fashioned from her shackles. In disgust, she passed her hand through her wing, the fetters melting through her fingers in foul rivulets and disappearing into the cracks in the pavement. She endured a brief spasm of vague guilt, but she shook it off with the final remainders of the blackened bones. There was a loud noise from above, and Kayla didn’t realize that the fire she set caused a structure above them to collapse until she was on the ground again, a heavy beam weighing down her hips. She coughed, unsure if the ash and smoke was invading her lungs or if she was expelling it. She was no more concerned with her body than she was earlier this morning, as physical sensation took a backseat to her driving inner forces, but still a tiny pang of worry sent her digging her fingernails into the gaps in the concrete in a vain attempt to pull herself from the crush of the scrap pile. She soon gave up on that approach, her hands moving feverishly through the debris in search of something to aid in her escape.
Kayla’s fingers brushed against a gnarled and pointed object which she immediately identified by the soothing vibrations it sent through her arm. She grasped her Intercessor, and urgently engaged the weapon, breaking through the rubble that covered her with a wide arc of her arm. She reached out and stabbed the earth, using that anchor to pull her body forward. Her other hilt was now within reach, and with her father’s blade in hand, Kayla was able to emerge from the wreckage. She stood, briefly looking behind her, but the fire at her back was beginning to burn low. That woman was beneath the smoldering pile, not her…and Asher was still out there.
Kayla retracted her Intercessors with painful shivers, knowing instinctively that she needed to rejoin with her Angelic bones to bolster her strength. She issued forth from the alley, covered in blood and ash, but her stumbling steps were without hesitation. She knew exactly where to find them. Her eyes found a bright point in the distance: a tall building consumed in flame, glowing in the early morning darkness. They weren’t there now, but she was sure that was the place where something terrible happened to Asher. Let it burn. Something within told her it was Jeremy’s fire that ravaged the structure, but she tried to ignore the question of what that implied, as she made her way towards the blue glimmer that radiated out from behind the ruins, just a few blocks away. Kayla could feel her wings sputtering out in between painful bursts of explosive fire that momentarily sent her to her knees, but whether she was running or crawling, each movement forward brought her closer to them.
She held her breath as she rounded the next corner, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the cold light. From beneath her upturned palm, she could see Asher’s drawn face, gruesomely pale in the blue glare. He was lying on his side, his exposed body tethered to the spot by his own spilled blood. Kayla could feel her heart grow heavy with slow, sludgy beats until she raised her eyes, and then the only fire she felt was the insistent force of whatever pumped maddeningly through her veins. Jeremy stood over him, his frame bent at awkward angles, with more of his body devoured by the fetters than she remembered. A set of blazing sigils hovered behind his shoulders, and her fists clenched with the recognition of how similar they were to hers. The light trembled and flickered while he shuddered, coughing out a suppressed cry of pain, before he began to stoop down towards Asher.
“Don’t touch him!” Kayla growled savagely, rushing towards him and extending her right hand to release her Intercessor.
Jeremy paused before he slowly straightened, awaiting her approach, his brow knit above resigned eyes.
Just steps away from him, Kayla choked in frustration, her weapons refusing to come forth, even as she focused her depleted energy on this one action. She stood before him, powerless, her rage fueled even further by his soft, troubled stare. What he did to Asher, that she could understand. With him, that sort of viciousness was expected. But this passively pained expression on his face — adrift, disconcerted, longing? It didn’t make sense, and it was unforgivable. She brought her hand up in a last attempt to wound him, not knowing if there would be any effect at all as she slapped his face, the sharp sound of contact resonating through the empty streets.
He closed his eyes for a moment at impact, bringing his fingers up to touch the gash opened by a fragment of her hilt, the only part of her Intercessor she could manage to draw forth from her palm. Jeremy’s eyes narrowed, anger darkening his features, while Kayla’s heart leapt in nervous recognition, but that instant of familiarity died shortly after he broke the contact of their gaze. He regarded the blood on his fingers with a sound that was somewhere between a convulsing sigh and a derisive laugh, but then his countenance flattened again into that uncharacteristically vague expression, even as she could see the gouge in his cheek begin to close. Kayla’s body felt cold, but she tried to warm it with snarling righteousness. She slashed across his torso, from hip to shoulder, and drew in close to pierce his throat.
“Kayla, stop!” came a weak voice at her feet.
The world seemed to cease moving. “After what he did to you?” she murmured.
“No, he Delivered me. It was Tregenne—”
“He couldn’t! How…?” Kayla stared past Jeremy’s shoulder into the weakening blue flame. She couldn’t understand why he would save Asher, but the truly inconceivable notion was that he could act as a Nephil now. The building was still burning in the distance. She turned away quickly; his Ruiners smelled like corpses.
Kayla knelt at Asher’s side, trusting his words enough to not fear turning her back on Jeremy. She remembered what she was able to do for him in the churchyard banyan tree, but now there was so much blood and too many possible injuries. “I don’t know how to help you,” she whispered. “Last time your wound was small and I had my mother’s tree…and like everything else, it was an accident. If it’s safe, I can go get Kittie—”
“Nothing’s safe.” His eyes were closed with concentration, his breathing labored.
She took his grossly punctured hand and gent
ly pressed it to the skin above her breast. Kayla could feel viscous trails of fluid sliding down over her flesh. If it ever mattered, she had to be an Angel now. She drew the almost-extinguished fire at her back first around her spine and then into her chest before pressing the energy through her arms, but she felt sputtering sparks ending at her wrists. Kayla let out a tiny cry as she kept futilely pushing, her face contorted with effort. As her body began to sag, that foreign force invaded her again, reaching into the same points beside her backbone, and surging through her like streams of boiling water. She raised her widening eyes to see Jeremy’s wings slowly disappearing into hissing smoke, his tense, closed face turned from her. This was all they had left. Kayla let the energy pass from her hands into Asher’s as the world dissolved.
She was roused by a familiar, childlike voice yelling, “brake…brake!” below the insistent sound of an engine. The tires squealed and she raised her head, groggily watching Kittie jump out from behind the wheel of the truck, while Fec emerged beneath her, tumbling over the pedals and through the doorway. She was lifted from the ground, somehow holding on to consciousness long enough to see Asher being piled into the back seat, sometime before the forward thrust of the vehicle drove her again into darkness.
36
Jeremy’s deep breaths gently stirred the blades of grass that stroked his closed eyelids, softening the tight muscles in his cheeks. The night air cooled the grass, but the still-warm earth felt welcoming, and he allowed himself to settle into it. There was an enjoyment to lying here on his stomach. He had spent more than a week in that damn truck, and the fetters on his back didn’t allow him to lean into the seats without at least mild discomfort, and sometimes, intense pain. But that wasn’t the only thing that hurt.
Dominion of the Star (Descendants of the Fallen Book 1) Page 26