When Fate Aligns: Book One of The Mortals and Mystics Series

by A. K. Koonce

  Asher takes a small step closer to his friend, but doesn’t dare cross the veil. My heart drops with every word this disgusting man speaks.

  “We used him in our last testing. Our lab had hoped mixing the genetic DNA of the veil with a natural hybrid might yield superior results, but, sadly, just blindness occurred.” He shakes his head in disappointment.

  Rage stings my chest as I watch Gabriel stand blindly before me. An abused and pained shell of the hybrid I met weeks ago.

  The veil next to Shaw twists its head back and forth between Asher and myself, a snarling sound brushing through its razor-like teeth. The high sound breaks through the night like a beacon indicating what’s to come.

  It raises one clawed hand at us, its bone like fingers curled in anticipation of its attack. Asher pushes us back, step by step from the creature as it’s about to strike. The unnatural bend of the creature’s legs bow under its body like it’s about to pounce.

  But it never does.

  The thing cries out in pain and my eyes dart around until I see Ripper sinking his canines into the thin leg of the veil. The creature shrieks loudly into Ripper’s face. Its snout-like jaw opens, baring its jagged teeth just inches from Ripper’s body. Phlegm and fluid coat the dog’s short fur, but he never releases his hold.

  We take slow steps back, inch by inch. Asher’s hand presses me back toward the edge of the house. Our small steps go unnoticed with the distraction Ripper provides. When the side of the house comes into view, shadowed and dark, we run. My boots slide against the dirt to keep up the pace Asher is pushing me at. His arm never leaves my waist as we run. My gun is lowered, but I clutch it tightly in my hands. My mind is a mess of fear and anger and perseverance.

  The incessant growling and shrieking continue for mere moments before the sound of a gun firing echoes around us.

  I gasp and stop instantly at the realization of what Shaw might have done. My heart stumbles in my chest when Ripper whines slow and quiet.

  From the other side of the house, the dog scurries off into the night as quickly as he came. My eyes desperately seek him out in the darkness; my heart beats frantically in my chest when I’m not able to find him. I focus on steadying my harsh breathing. I’ll find him. I will. As soon as this is all over I’ll find him.

  My adamant chant is interrupted when Asher places his hand against my lower back, ushering me forward as the noise of the gunfire still echoes around us.

  The tree line is about fifteen yards ahead of us. The trees offer us obscurity, a safe haven, and a hell all at once. What if there are more of them out there?

  A veil crawls unnaturally fast on all fours in front of us, blocking our escape. Dirt and dust cloud around us as it scuttles to a stop. All four claws dig into the hard earth. Its unnaturally thin chest heaves visibly. It doesn’t stand, and it doesn’t hesitate the way the first one did.

  It sniffs the air loudly, walking slowly toward us on all fours like a horrific, disfigured animal. Its limbs bend abnormally with each step.

  The Crimson Sword cuts through the air under Asher’s strength as the creature gains more ground. It cries out as the blade tears through the flesh of its arm. Inky blood spurts from the wound, its arm almost entirely severed.

  It wastes no time retaliating and flings itself at Asher with a mess of long arms and legs clawing through the air. Asher’s sword rises effortlessly to shield himself like an extension of his arm. He brings the blade down against the chest of the creature just as it sinks its claw into his shoulder.

  The veil shudders for a breath, its signature shriek nothing more than rattled air through its thin gray lips. Asher’s face is pained, but he pushes the lifeless veil off the crystal sword. Inky blood drips down his arm and the sword, staining the dirt at his feet.

  His chest heaves, and the shredded shirt reveals his bloody shoulder. It doesn’t appear to be healing like I’ve seen in the past. My eyes assess the wound with worry. I swallow hard, trying to process how to stop the bleeding, but there’s no time.

  Asher winces, baring his teeth. The weight of the sword pulls at the torn flesh of his shoulder with every movement.

  A veil rises behind him, and my heart leaps violently in my chest at the sight of it hovering over him.

  I raise the gun without thinking, settling the heaviness of it between my palms before slowly pulling the trigger. The kick back of it pulses through my arms, but my feet stay planted as I discharge again, repeatedly.

  Asher’s eyes grow wide as the bullets pass him, one after another. My eyes are unblinking as I hit my target each time in the chest. The thin creature fumbles back under the impact. Tiny holes drip thick blood down its torso before healing and sealing the bullets within itself.

  Asher turns, whipping the blade through the air with him as he stalks toward the veil. Just as he’s about to slice open the creature, another attacks, barreling into Asher’s side. Soldiers follow a distance behind. The second veil drives Asher to the ground, its claw slicing into his cheek. Crimson blood washes over his face. The two creatures attack him in a dark, tangled mass of limbs and claws.

  Asher’s sword scatters to the dirt a few feet from him. I clench my jaw in determination, but I’m not able to get a good aim on the veil as he pushes against them, turning and punching but gaining no ground. The gun’s useless with these creatures. Panic pulses through me. My hands tremble against the heavy gun as I realize I can’t guarantee my target or its demise, but I have to deter it if at all possible.

  My breathing comes in heaves as I feel more and more inept in our current situation. And then it occurs to me that I’m just as capable of ruining Asher’s life as he is mine.

  Focusing on the widest span of the veil’s thin figure, I fire my weapon. Confidence builds in my chest as I pull the trigger again and again. But the mortal bullets do nothing but anger the creatures as they sink into their skeletal back. The most I can hope for is a distraction.

  The two creatures slowly rise off Asher, who lies in a heap of his own blood. He crawls on the ground, fumbling. My heart crashes and falls in my chest at the sight of his shredded skin and unsteady movements. The two veil look at me. I swallow the lump in my throat as I back away from them. They both screech at me, the noise high and painful in my ears.

  I lower my gun, trying to find something of use against the immortal creatures standing before me. But there’s nothing. I improvise the only way I can. I turn the gun and strike the weapon hard into the closest veil’s face. The feeling of its hard skull against the weapon painfully reverberates through my hand. The noise of bone cracking fills the air. But the action leaves little effect on the monster. If anything, the gesture just irritated the creature.

  My heart sinks as I realize my mistake. I can’t fight these things with mortal weapons. I lick my dry lips, trying to think quickly before I’m brought to my own death.

  In a flash of red, someone stands between myself and the monsters.

  Gabriel wields an entire tree in his hands. The limbs brush against the dirt as he sweeps the tree over his head, his hands releasing the thing with enough force to make the wide branches break against the ground. The trunk hits the two veil, flinging them hundreds of feet away into the darkness of the open lot.

  The bandage that’s wrapped over Gabriel’s eyes dishevels his thick red hair. It covers his sight entirely, but he moves with careful assurance.

  Gabriel quickly but unsteadily kneels at Asher’s side, tearing his own palm open with his teeth. Crimson blood spills into his palm, and then he presses his hand to the jagged claw marks on Asher’s shoulder, where the deepest wound appears to be. With all the blood, I can’t tell whether it’s healing or not, but I don’t have the time to let it worry me.

  Two of the guards run up to us, giving us no time to celebrate our small victories. Gabriel tilts his bandaged head toward them from his spot where he’s kneeling next to his friend. He appears aloof and even offers them a polite but uncomfortable smirk before running after
the veil, probably choosing to fight out of sight rather than have his chip detonate for helping the enemy.

  The guards keep their guns trained on Asher as they stop before us. I step closer to them, my finger brushing over the trigger of my gun. Asher lies on the ground looking up at them, a smile on his lips.

  “Finally something I’ve looked forward to for years,” he says, but his breaths are labored. He’s still in pain. A lot of pain.

  The guards exchange confused glances out of the corners of their eyes, their guns rising higher. Asher leaps to his feet in a flash, gripping one guard by his throat before either of them have time to process the movement. The other guard fires his gun, the bullets smoking as they sink into Asher’s back.

  Asher stops. The man hanging by his throat chokes for air as his legs kick at Asher’s shins. He pulls the trigger of his rifle without aim and with little hope. The bullets blaze into Asher’s abdomen, but he doesn’t even flinch. His shirt stains red under the bullet holes.

  The other armed man raises his gun to shoot again. This time, his aim is higher, pointed at Asher’s head. His finger pulls against the trigger, but I’m faster.

  The man falls to the ground with blood trailing out the back of his skull as I lower my weapon.

  Asher’s face falls as he realizes what I’ve done. He breaks the man’s neck instantly. The cracking sound is painful to my ears. The guard’s body thumps inertly to the ground.

  Searching my face, Asher pauses, seeming unsure of himself. He steps closer and his hand gently settles over mine, pushing my gun farther down. My shoulders are stiff under the forced movement.

  He takes my face in his hands. His hair and skin are covered in blood. I feel the stickiness of the blood on my cheek as his fingers brush against my skin.

  “Are you okay?” he asks in a whisper.

  I nod, knowing there’s no time to discuss my mental stability. I refuse to allow my mind to think any of this through. I’ll think it through when it’s over. When we’re far, far away from here. When we’re old and dying of natural causes. Then I’ll allow myself to think about everything that has happened.

  The last guard walks slowly toward us. He’s a broad man. His gait is that of someone with confidence and power. I raise my gun again, knowing I won’t hesitate. I find a calmness with that thought.

  The man raises his weapon, as well. I pull the trigger, but, instead of the echo of gunfire, I am met with a quiet clicking noise against my palms.

  The clip’s empty.

  I stuff the useless gun into its holster and take a deep breath. I’m prepared to fight or die or fight and then die. But I can’t back down. I can’t leave Asher.

  Only seconds pass. Asher turns his body toward the guard, seeing him for the first time. The man lowers his handgun and fires the weapon at me. Before I can react, pain burns into my leg and bursts into fire under my skin. I clutch to Asher’s bloody shirt to hold myself up.

  Asher’s jaw ticks as he braces me in his arms. He seethes a breath through his teeth. He turns his gaze on the guard, rage ripping over his face.

  I take quick, short breaths to breathe through the pain. Tears well in my eyes, and it’s all I can do to clench my jaw to stop them from coming.

  “I like to play with my prey before I kill it. You know what I mean?” the guard asks Asher with a smile on his smug face.

  I wince as I put pressure on my leg, standing and pushing myself off Asher. His body goes rigid from the man’s words.

  Asher’s sword still lays a few feet away, in the dirt behind the guard, but he doesn’t even look for it. He stalks up to the man without hesitation. When they’re toe to toe, something unexpected happens.

  The guard’s brains are splattered onto Asher’s face. His smug features are wiped away completely. His body slumps into Asher before hitting the ground hard.

  My mother stands a few yards behind them. Her blonde hair blows in the wind, and the smoke from her handgun wafts around her.

  I can’t help the elation that soars through me. Even in this terrible setting, even with my leg throbbing beneath me, even with the blood and brains that coat Asher’s face, she’s alright and she’s here. Fighting with me, fighting for me.

  I wobble closer to Asher. He turns to me, and a tired happiness etches his features, his feelings mirroring my own.

  Because, despite the odds, we’re still alive. Together.

  My eyes trace over the man who is washed red before me. Everything that we did to get here, everything we survived, all the odds that were against us—like the miles we put behind us—are in our past. We’ll get through this. We’ll track down Shaw and end this once and for all.

  Then time slows, almost standing still around us.

  Shaw slowly shakes his head at us, his face appearing just behind Asher. His appearance is like an ominous shadow on my thoughts. As if in slow motion, Shaw raises the Crimson Sword high in the air with both hands behind Asher’s back. Asher’s beautiful gray eyes hold affection in them as he looks at me; my own eyes reflect the terror of what’s about to happen.

  In the distance, my mother raises her gun to Shaw’s back. My heart hammers in my chest as I wait to hear the gun fire. My ears strain, waiting for her chamber to empty.

  As her finger grips the trigger, a veil rushes her. She aims at it, her arms rigid as she fires one round after another into the creature’s chest. It stumbles back from the impact, but doesn’t stop its attack as it shrieks into the night, advancing on her until she’s kicking it away, her boots flailing against its thin limbs. Its claws sink into and shred open her legs. She limps and scrambles frantically away from it.

  There’s nothing left. Fate has no more tricks up her sleeve for us. We survived nature and witches and veil only to be brought full circle to the pitiful executioner before me.

  Without thinking, I push Asher aside. His confused body fumbles beneath my determined hands. I step into Shaw’s sweeping blade like a sacrifice, my hands raised slightly to deflect the blow I know will soon come.

  My mother screams in the distance, her fearful green eyes watching me as she scrambles in the dirt toward us. The veil sinks its razor-like teeth into her leg with the help of my distraction.

  Pain explodes through my entire body and dwells in my pounding heart. It’s so loud. The noise of my pumping blood fills my ears, drowning out the world around me. I blink up at Shaw in confusion, still not processing the outcome of my actions. I touch my midsection lightly; the strange feeling of warm blood coats my palm and gushes between my fingers.

  Shaw’s beady eyes smile down at me, eating up my pained expression with darting eyes. Like he’s waited our entire lives in the compound to plunge this sword into me here, in the middle of nowhere, with everyone I love surrounding me

  I fall to the ground. My hands thrash out to hold onto Shaw’s suit jacket to keep myself standing. But I hit the ground despite my meager efforts. Asher sits behind me, cradling my head in his blood-soaked hands. His shirt is sliced in an identical place as my own, his eyes are unfocused as he looks at me, mirroring my own expression. Confusion mixed with pain. His flesh at his side is torn deeply, and blood pours from the jagged wound.

  The Crimson Sword went through me and into him. Wet tears slip down my cheeks. I shudder to breathe as pain wrecks my chest. My actions were for nothing.

  The wounds on his face are still open and fresh; blood still runs down his shoulder. How much blood is he losing?

  I push my palms flat against my ribs again, but the blood is slick against my hands, and I can’t find the pressure I know I need.

  Looking up to the man who sealed all of our fates, I see Shaw’s triumphant gaze become suddenly vacant. His trembling hand covers the blood that’s seeping from the center of his chest, staining the perfectly pressed button-down shirt. His face slackens as he turns to see my mother’s gun still pointed at him as the creature continues to claw at her on the ground.

  The Crimson Sword slips from his frail hand as h
e staggers to the ground at my feet.

  Tilting my head to the side, trying to keep my heavy eyes open, I watch my mother crawling toward me. She’s close. I want her close to me. I need her with me. I need my mother. My throat is tight and my tongue feels thick in my mouth.

  A small breath fills my lungs. “Mom,” I say, the word quiet against my dry lips.

  My mind drifts to all the times she held me as a child, pulled me close to her, held my head in her hands. Her warmth washed away all my problems. I need her. I need her to hold me again. To feel the illogical safety I know her embrace offers.

  The veil tears into her, pulling at her as she thrashes against the ground just a few feet from me. Her thin, shaking hand covers her mouth as tears stream down her pained face. I reach a bloody hand out to her. The movement painful and disorderly.

  Her small hands push against the weight of the veil, its body now encompassing hers. Its claws tear quickly through the air and shred down her chest and torso. I see the agony on her face, but I can’t hear her cries.

  The air has left my lungs entirely. A new pain soars through my chest. My heart dips and falls without any natural rhythm. Black spots cloud my vision as I watch my mother’s death unfold before my eyes.

  The veil claws repeatedly at her disfigured body. Her arms spread out at her sides unmoving. Blood and flesh are flung all around like confetti ribbon against the dirt.

  “Run, Fallon,” Asher says in my ear.

  His voice resonates in my mind. I look up at him through the hot tears in my eyes. I swallow as emotional and physical pain unfurls inside me.

  He pushes me to my feet. I stumble, hanging onto a tree behind his slumped over body.

  The veil is now feeding off of my mother, and I can’t bring myself to look at her disfigured body. I see Gabriel near the house, his movements clouded in darkness as he fights the other veil. He looks tired but unharmed.