by Anna Sanders
But before they could fully mobilize, Cris blindsided them. He thoroughly flayed the men with a push of his mighty black wings, and Keaton was there to help him, throwing aside any takers who would have come up behind the demon.
Roy, London, and Genevieve hurried past the piles of unconscious people. Winx was with them, keeping her eyes open for any advancing behind them.
One hall down, a myriad more to go.
Keaton felt alive. It was an odd emotion. But after his awful injury, being downtrodden for so long, feeling helpless, and watching his pack be torn asunder, it was nice to cause some mayhem for a change.
Fighting alongside Cris was exciting. Their fighting styles complimented one another, and working in tandem with him wasn’t a difficult thing. It was as if he had an impression of what tactics the demon wanted to try and the minute he should do them. Funny, considering they hadn’t even been properly introduced at this point.
In the back of his mind was a bloodthirsty monster. Killing Tipping hadn’t been enough. Exhilarating, desirous even, but not enough. He could still feel his claw sinking into the daevor’s head and the blood spattering over his face and arms. He could still hear the dying grunts and twitches of the bastard.
It still wasn’t enough. Every guard was Tipping in disguise. Every guard had ruined his home and killed Stori. And they wanted to do more.
He wouldn’t let them.
The fights were getting messy. Having a full-blooded demon on the loose, even one who had been starved for days, was a huge advantage. Keaton and Cris tossed the guards about like rag dolls and made way for the rest of the group.
They broke into a wide room surrounded with stained glass windows.
“You all go ahead!” Cris shouted as the alarms started to blare. “I have to find my weapons!”
“What for?” Genevieve demanded.
“I have unfinished business with theChancellor!”
“You’ll never beat him, he’s too protected!” London and the other lixyns spread their wings as the danger mounted.
“I’ve been taken straight to his lair! I’m not about to let that opportunity slip past!”
With a crash, Cris broke the stained glass with his midnight wings. The group covered their heads as the multicolored shards sprayed about them like bright, sharp rain, and the demon bounded away in search of his quarry.
The rest of the group wasted no more time. They ran out into the grounds, searching for a way out. Nobody noticed when Winx, still taking up the rear, was quickly grabbed and flown in the opposite direction.
Her first reaction was a horrendous dread. She started to scream for help before a hand clapped over her mouth in finality. With wide eyes, the daevor was swooping away from her oblivious group, who were hot-footing it into the green acres of the mansion.
But her second reaction? That was the one that steeled her. She felt a swell of anger, not only at herself for being caught, but at the idiot who’d actually picked her up. She kicked her legs back viciously, bit at the hand over her mouth, and squirmed, not thinking of how high off the ground she was. The struggle erupted her horns, and she slammed her head back into her assailant’s face.
Then he dropped her.
It was only about a five-foot fall, but it did leave her wheezy. It still wasn’t as bad as the other guy. She bounded back to her feet as the lixyn she’d been searching for landed. Blood slipped down the contours of his mouth and chin from where she’d headbutted him.
“You crazy bitch!” He healed what Winx now saw was a gouged-out eye. The puckered skin regrew quickly, but the lixyn was still livid and struggling to breathe. “You h-have evaded the law long enough.”
Since the lixyn stood in the lights coming from the mansion, Winx could take in his form. He wasn’t very tall, but he was stocky with some semblance of muscle. His face was an ethnic handsome, his skin a glowing Spanish hue. Dark hair and dark brows detailed his face. Perhaps he could be seen as good looking if it weren’t for a spark of insanity brimming beneath the surface. So like…
“Who are you?” Winx hotly demanded.
He gave her a mocking frown. “Oh, what, Deja never told you about me?”
Winx didn’t answer. If there was any chance she could actually explode from anger, this would have been the time.
“Really? She really never told you about a Dante? Just like her.” He scoffed. “So what did you think this was about the entire time?”
“I had no reason to think someone would want her dead.” Winx trembled with rage.
He was disbelieving. “Did your family really think Deja a saint?”
“What could she have possibly done to deserve what you did to her?”
“The trollop had you fooled. But I suppose that was easy. The doting sister, full of worship over the eldest in her family.”
Winx charged him. He backed away and dodged her swings.
“Yes, I had the bitch killed! I would have gotten my hands dirty myself, if it weren’t for my father’s political career! But my methods were just as effective: bring one of his lackeys in to do it for me.”
Winx stopped. She looked harder at him. The Latin looks. The accent. The facial structure.
“He had plenty to spare. He’s been brainwashing his wards for quite some time. All I had to do was coerce one of them to impose their will on a nearby gang. So simple to make Deja’s last moments on Earth a living hell. And none of the blame shot back at me.” He let out a low whistle. “But then you came in and resurfaced everything that had been covered up.”
He was still retreating. Winx followed.
“It was all over until you got those hoodlums killed. My father knew I was the one who almost compromised his rule. Now he won’t trust me with anything, and I must prove myself. Let him know that I’m loyal!”
With a horrible shout, Winx used a surge of speed to chase him down. He turned a corner and entered a room. She followed hard, bursting through the door without thinking.
She came face to face with the unthinkable. The room held the remainder of the source of her punishment.
Robin Hoggs, Arn Dunning, Matt Gretch, and Manny Ellis.
The men she’d killed.
Time had not been kind to them. Since their death and travels beyond it, they’d become more rotted bone than corpse. Their gang insignias were still visible, as if someone strived for them to be recognized.
Winx lost her breath. She staggered backwards at the four men prowled toward her. Beyond them stood Chavez’s son and a shackled daevor, recognizable as a Lighter from the dead look in its gaze.
“Let the games begin!” Dante said with a laugh.
CHAPTER 15
Keaton and the lixyns didn’t get very far. They had to stop in their path when a firing squad made up of about fifteen Lighters blocked the way. Although they were obviously still slaves, they held their weapons and leashes for the savages at their feet with a confidence that belied their dead eyes.
Firepower and the dead added together. There was nothing to be done.
“Did you really think it would be that easy?” Chavez demanded as he walked around his guard, the Goddess Edina dragged by his side. “I’ve been prepared for a breakout. Though I’m mightily disappointed to see how hard you are to kill, Iragall.”
London wasn’t fazed. “I’ve heard as much before. Hopefully, I’ll hear it plenty in the future.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“You still have the power to stop this, my old friend.”
“Mind who you’re talking to.” The calm exterior of the madman broke away easily to his ferocity. “I’ve spent years organizing this breach. You really think your miniscule group of do-gooders is enough to stop me? You don’t have what it takes, London. You may as well surrender now; that way, your death will be quick and easy.”
“Mother…” Genevieve spoke to the Goddess in an undertone. “Mother, are you all right?”
The Goddess Edina didn’t look her daughter square in the ey
es. Her features were resigned to grief, her posture regal but weightless in Esteban’s hold. She stared ahead, almost as lifeless as the Lighters around her. She didn’t look bruised or dirty, but her composure was obviously feigned.
“What? Doesn’t your mother look in the peak of health?” Esteban drew Edina closer to him, cupping her cheek. She did not respond. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll be taking care of her from now on.” He signaled to the guard. “Get them back into their cells and make sure that they stay there. And find the daevor. We seem to have lost her.”
There was a sheepish exchange of looks when the prisoners realized that Winx was gone. Keaton grimaced the hardest.
The guard advanced, hiking their weapons in the direction that they wanted the group to go. They shouted orders, but their voices held no inflection whatsoever.
“Any more grand ideas?” Keaton asked.
“Oh, not to worry, ol’ chum,” London stated. “I’m sure something will fall out of the sky.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than five blurs whooshed around the area. The guards fired, swinging in every direction to try and hit their quarry. Keaton took a bullet dead in his lower back and fell to the ground, hollering in pain.
The savages were let loose as bandits began to tear into the Lighters. Chavez shouted and spread his wings, taking the Goddess up into the air with him. But he’d barely gotten more than five feet before a body braced with black wings collided into him, knocking him sideways and to the ground in a crash.
Genevieve rushed to her mother when she was dropped like a sack. She gathered her close and covered them both with her wings as she tried to crawl out of the fray. The Goddess, however, had lost her outward calm and was back to the mewling from before. This only intensified when a savage nabbed her dress and tugged her toward his snapping jaws.
“Help!” the Goddess screamed in an unworldly pitch.
Genevieve pulled her mother away from the savage, not reacting when the skirt of the Goddess’s dress ripped high. She forced her mother behind her, as the woman was obviously not prepared to deal with such a creature, and grabbed it by the back of its head. She slammed it face down against the ground until it made a squishing noise, and then she only paused to grimace until she was sure that its brain had been damaged, making another face when its neck cracked.
More savages roamed, some of them armed, but when their minders lost control, they weren’t at much of an advantage with their tools. It was quick work for Roy to rid the area of their presence, using his superior skill to crush the creatures. The bandits, on the other hand, used their speed to attempt to snatch the firearms away from the Lighters. Some succeeded, and others were shot.
In his corner of the battle, Cris held one halberd in each hand and swung them expertly as Esteban scrambled to get out of the reach of his blade.
“Hell-born heathen!” Esteban screeched as he flew to back away from Cris. “Don’t you know who you’re dealing with?”
“Yeah. Esteban Chavez, head honcho of the Order.” He twirled his blade elaborately. “I’m sending you a message in the form of a blade through your skull.”
“Shoot this idiot!” Chavez demanded.
The guards who weren’t too engaged turned their barrels in the direction of the demon upon hearing new orders. Cris darted out of the path of a rain of bullets, using the surrounding gardens for cover, and keeping a trained eye on the direction that Esteban ran in to retreat.
The Lighters may have been armed, but they were clumsy when it came to keeping a steady hand against the bandits. When the animals crossed paths, the guards hit each other with friendly fire. It quickly diminished their numbers, to the point that there were only four male Lighters left. Realizing defeat, they stopped shooting and tried to box in the bandits. Roy flew down to take out one of the remaining guards, London beside him. Cris used the lack of bullets to dart from his hiding spot within the trees and to rush back into the mansion.
Once the Lighters were all down, everything started to make more sense. Eight bandits stopped around the gardens, out of breath, but victorious.
“Violet. You made it.” London’s relief was palpable as he spoke to what was obviously the animal in charge. “Where is the rest of the force?”
“Still back in Washington.” Violet was a tall, Amazonian bandit with dusky skin and darker eyes. “We couldn’t spare too many of our numbers. We haven’t been able to recruit in weeks.”
“No matter.” London turned to everyone else. “Let’s away. Quickly.”
Keaton made a sound of relief when he was healed. He looked up tentatively to see Roy healing him, and beside him stood...
“Sabrina? What… how…?”
“I decided to come find you.” She smiled winningly and touched his cheek. “I couldn’t let you leave the way you did. I care too much about you.” She smiled
“Winx.” Keaton jumped to his feet upon remembering the daevor’s absence. “We have to find her.”
“We have to get out of here,” Violet countered him. “Right now!”
“I’m not leaving without her!” Keaton gave them all one look, his gaze ending on Sabrina. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
He left amidst Sabrina’s protests, not looking to see if anyone followed him.
Being trapped in a room with all of the men responsible for the death of her sister was doing odd things to Winx’s head. She had no weapon to speak of, and her immediate reaction was to shrink back, unsure. But as her emotions continued to buzz inside of her, growing steadily in volume, she braced herself for whatever would come.
The savage Black Hearts gang was advancing. Their snarls were terrible, and their smells were worse. Dante smiled behind them with the anticipation of her defeat. Winx was outnumbered.
But rage kept creeping up the back of her throat, almost suffocating her.
She knew what she had to do.
With her eyes trained directly onto the daevor, she stepped forward. The gang still approached; even controlled, they still ached for her flesh.
“How does it feel to see them again?” Dante asked, smiling sinisterly. “Bo would be here. But, of course, you took care of him weeks ago.”
Winx refused to rise to his baiting. Instead, she took another step forward, which brought her face to face with Manny. His eyes were milky white with blindness, but his nostrils flared like he could smell her. Without hesitation, she brought her hands up to cup his head.
The more seasoned the corpse, the easier the kill. Winx had that on her side, if nothing else.
When she snapped his neck, Dante’s smile faded, and the rest of the gang jumped on top of Winx in the span of seconds. She was crowded to the wall, teeth and claws ripping at her skin. Wounds that had only just recently closed reopened without too much effort.
Winx screamed, but she didn’t let her gaze waver from her goal. The Lighter. Kill the Lighter.
She used her strength to push off the weaker crowd of dead. They parted an inch, and Winx used the space to spin quickly, her crimson tail coming up out of her pants like a whip. She kicked high and caught Robin in the jaw. He flew back into Matt as Winx punched the temple of a wildly-snarling Arn. They all rose again quickly thanks to Dante’s compulsion. But Winx used the time to push and kick her way to the middle of the room.
“What are you doing?” Dante yelled as Winx advanced. “She’s getting closer! Stop her now!”
The Lighter didn’t react. But her eyes shifted between each savage, mentally giving different commands.
The bandits were trying to weigh Winx to the floor in response to their orders, but they were far from successful. Every time it seemed that a bite or a tug would take Winx down, she would spring back up again.
When she tossed Arn into the wall and rushed over to kick his neck, Dante bellowed at the Lighter. “She’s killing them! Stop her! Stop her!”
Matt and Robin shuffled over to Winx. She stopped kicking the now very dead Arn to knock her elbo
w into Matt’s midsection. He toppled backwards, but even though he was regaining his footing, Robin made himself far too accessible to Winx’s determination. She brought him to the wall, and when she slammed his head into it, a part of his skull fractured and broke off, exposing his brain. Blackened blood slipped out of his cranium, splashing across Winx as she kept forcing him to the wall, her grunts accented by her actions.
That left Matt. He still came at her as if he was even a threat at this point. Winx held him at bay by his shirt, and then she stalked over to the Lighter and her master.
“You are useless!” Dante screeched at the Lighter as he backed away. “All of your training was wasted! All you had to do was kill her!”
Winx bounded over to the Lighter, still holding onto Robin as he wriggled. The slave, on the other hand, didn’t move a muscle as she awaited orders to protect herself that didn’t come.
“I want to feel sorry for you,” Winx growled. “But the last time I sympathized with one of you, someone died.”
She reached into the slave’s belt and pulled out a tactical knife. Without apology, she dragged it across the Lighter’s throat. The slave’s eyes widened, and she gurgled as she fell to the floor to die.
Dante Chavez was already thundering for the exit when Winx pulled the blade into the savage’s jaw. She shoved hard until he went still, and then, she yanked the knife out and hopped over the bodies to find Dante.
He wasn’t hard to find. He was running clumsily away, his wide wings spread, hallway after hallway provided no windows for him. Winx wasted no time in hopping on his back and tackling him to the ground.
“No!” he screamed. “Get off of me!”
Dante tried to defend himself, tossing her back, but Winx was fueled by years of rage. The two of them pushed against one another, the lixyn trying to save his skin while the daevor tried to bring her knife down. Dante grabbed her wrists to keep her clasped hands from shoving the weapon into his chest, and his arm muscles bulged with the effort.
“You… killed… Deja…” Winx panted. “So… die!”
Using a different tactic, she brought her arms away from him. His arms slipped, leaving his chest more open with the action. Winx evaded his grasp and slammed the blade down repeatedly into his chest. Dante screamed in horror and pain.