Dark Rising Trilogy

by DeAnna Browne

  The man’s dark eyes barely showed any light. For a moment Caleb thought him a Soultorn and worried the man’s threat was real. But as they moved closer, the man’s old eyes glinted white, just enough to be human. Not that it made him any less dangerous.

  “Do you have any special skills when you kill anybody? Or just another tool?” the man asked.

  Caleb lifted the bow off of his back. “I’m a pretty good shot.”

  “Really.” Doubt filled the man’s voice. “Everyone says he’s a good shot. It won’t get you more money.”

  “May I?” Caleb lifted the bow, pulled an arrow from his quiver, and took aim.

  The man nodded and reached for a small flask. He waved Caleb on while lifting it up for a drink.

  Caleb released the arrow. It sailed straight and true, rising up high to a wide tree a good hundred yards away, and buried dead center.

  The man gave a mumbled acknowledgement and turned back to the paperwork. “Names.”

  They both gave him their names, changing the last names.

  “You get a fourth of your money today, the rest after the work is done.”

  Smart, Caleb thought, since they wouldn’t have to pay most of these guys.

  “Mess hall is by the lake. Watch the gators, and sleep wherever you can find a spot. You’re responsible for your own weapons.” The man set down his pen and looked again at Caleb’s arrow. “You’re going to wish you had that tomorrow.”

  As if on cue, the arrow reversed direction out of the tree. It floated down, then turned and headed tip first towards Caleb. He glanced at Nikki, but she focused on something in the distance. His heart raced inside his chest at the thought of being at these magicians’ mercy, especially since they could control the one weapon at his disposal. As the arrow sailed towards him, he held his ground. They wouldn’t kill him. They needed him. Right? The tip stopped an inch from his face. Nikki let out a breath at his side.

  “What do we have here?” A cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows. “Someone that can actually fight?” The figure was not large, and his voice held some youth to it.

  “He can shoot at least, sir.” The aged man stood straight as he addressed the figure.

  “Better than half the losers we saw today. They all think we have an unlimited supply of bullets. Put him with my team.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man scribbled something on the paper at his desk.

  “And who are you?” Caleb had to ask. They had to have as much information as possible.

  “The man who determines whether you’ll live or die.” The bottom half of his face stuck out through the robes. It was pale and flawless like a child’s. “Report by five thirty in the morning for logistics.”

  “We will.” Caleb picked up his arrow that now lay at his feet.

  “We?” The hooded man turned back. “I only agreed on you. What can your friend offer me? I felt a bit of magic, but nothing of worth.”

  “I’m a healer,” Nikki said.

  “We work as a team,” Caleb added. “Her minor magic helps with my aim and protects us both.”

  “Work as one, get paid as one,” the man barked from the table.

  “Not so fast.” The hooded man approached Nikki.

  Nikki lifted her chin and didn’t move under inspection.

  His cloak fell from his head, revealing perfectly pale skin with a tinge of pink as if recently scrubbed clean. It stood out against his dark clothes and the falling night sky. His sharp features reminded Caleb of a mannequin, almost too perfect and unnatural. The young man’s pale blond hair was worn short and pushed to one side. He slowly licked his lips as he watched Nikki, as if deciding whether to bed her or eat her.

  “We don’t need this.” Caleb pulled Nikki’s hand, wanting to get her away from the disturbing male.

  Nikki didn’t move, and before Caleb could pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, the man spoke. “I’m Peter. And you’ll both be on my team, but not together. She has better things to do then guard your worthless hide.”

  Caleb began to protest, but Nikki squeezed his hand. “We’ll do it,” she replied.

  Peter lifted a hand and gently laid it on Nikki’s face. “I think you have more potential than you want to share. You’ll do fine.” He turned on his heel and left.

  Caleb ground his teeth together, regretting not tying Nikki to a tree somewhere safe.

  “I hope you weren’t wooed by that baby face,” Caleb whispered once Peter was out of earshot.

  She glared at him.

  He had to joke or otherwise he would throw her over his shoulder and run. He knew a predator when he saw one.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Becca ran down the hall, shoving her hands into old mittens and ignoring the looks from others. She opened the training center door next to Leon’s office. Similar to where she worked with Lance, its only difference was the back of the room opened to the sandy beach. Waves lapped in the distance, sending a blast of frigid air over the group collected there.

  Leon spoke to the group, with Andre, Jemi, and Lance at his side.

  Becca tugged discretely on Andre’s sleeve. “I need to talk to you.”

  Leon stopped talking, and everyone turned to her. The close to forty faces felt like four hundred as their attention bore down on her. Darion stepped forward, but Becca shook her head. They’d talk later; she needed Andre first.

  Becca ignored the looks and kept her voice low. “Liz had another vision.”

  Andre glanced at Jemi.

  Jemi shrugged. “Ask her.”

  “I need to talk to you alone.” Becca stood her ground, not willing to be silenced.

  “All right. I’ll give you one minute. We don’t have time to waste.” Andre walked away from the group.

  Becca followed, and they moved several feet away out of earshot. Leon continued speaking, giving instructions.

  “This better be good.” Andre turned to face her. “We’re preparing for war.”

  War. The vision was true. It had come to this. “Is Caleb all right?”

  “If you’d come to the meeting on time, you would have heard. Caleb and Nikki infiltrated the coven’s ranks. They plan to attack in the morning.”

  “So soon?” Dread coiled in her stomach. “Nikki?”

  Irritation irked his expression. “What was the vision about?”

  “Yes. The vision.” She had to focus, but everything was happening so fast. She relayed the beginning of her vision, trying to describe in detail as much as possible, hoping it would help. Then she got to the part about Andre. She swallowed, unsure how to tell someone they would die. Could they change it?

  His gaze remained focused on her. “What else, Becca?”

  There was no easy way to say it. “You die, sir. I watch you die, fighting Ryma.”

  Andre showed no response, his face chiseled stone. Even his eyes remained hard and locked onto her. When he spoke, his voice was low and serious. “If you speak a word of this to anyone, I will force you into unconsciousness until I release you or my powers are gone. Do you understand me?”

  Her voice stuck in her throat. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—be walking to his own death and expect her to not say a word. She wanted to protest, but his power washed over her and a chill traveled down her spine. It wasn’t a threat, but a promise that he would follow through. He waited for a reply.

  She found her voice after a minute. “These people need you. With you dead, there is nothing left for them, nowhere to run.”

  His eyes softened a bit. “We can’t outrun these forces. I’d rather fight them on my own turf, the waves at my back, than any other way.”

  “But we could regroup, attack again—”

  He held up his hand. “I’ve gone through every scenario hundreds of times. This was going to happen. We’ll evacuate those that can’t fight, hide them behind spells, and keep them safe. The rest will fight. Ryma won’t find those hidden, and our deaths will satiate his desire. The question is, do you want t
o fight or be unconscious, another burden for this community to bear?”

  How could Becca say no? She glanced at the group in front of Leon, gathering to fight. Did they know they were all walking towards their funerals? Ryma wouldn’t let any of them walk away. She remembered the vision, her cradling this man in his last hour. Did she even have a choice, or was it made for her? It didn’t matter.

  “I’ll fight,” she said.

  “Good. Watch your tongue around the others. I don’t make idle threats.”

  They rejoined the others, and she stood next to Darion. They were going to fight, and they may die, but hopefully they would take as many magicians with them as possible.

  When Leon finished speaking to Lance and his group, he turned to Andre. “Anything else?”

  “Stick to the plan.” His words were a direct stab at Becca. “But everyone be prepared for illusions, possibly a rain forest. Team leaders, please prepare your teams.”

  Illusions? It made sense that those large leaves and vines were an illusion, especially with the man running through a tree. How would they do that?

  Darion leaned in. “You’re with me and Leon’s team. We have to evacuate the kids and then pull up the rear in the fight. Liz will be part of the evacuated.”

  Liz. Bittersweet sorrow flooded Becca. She was grateful that she could see her sister to safety but worried at leaving her alone in this world.

  Leon dismissed everyone and gathered his ten-man team. Becca recognized most of them. Marcus, who was injured on their last mission, stood next to Leon, no sign of visible injury.

  Once the others were gone, Leon addressed the team. “If Caleb and Nikki’s information is correct, they’ll be here early tomorrow, and we will need to be evacuated before dawn. That means we have to move all these people, plus provisions to sustain them for a week, at least. I have everyone’s assignments. There is no time to waste.”

  Caleb breathed in the smell of pine from Nikki’s hair and relaxed into the warmth of her body. The sky held a deep blue of predawn, but the camp was waking. He hated to disturb her easy breathing, so he let her sleep a little longer. Pink from the cold colored her nose and cheeks. The rest of her light brown skin was hidden away under her hat and scarf. He didn’t mean to end up in this position, lying so close to her, but now, he couldn’t find the desire to move.

  Last night, he made a makeshift tent with a tarp and ropes from his pack. With the raucous laughter of drunken men drifting through the camp, Caleb didn’t want her to leave his sight. She sent a message to her father of the upcoming attack, and then they both spent some time mingling among the men. Caleb didn’t enjoy their crude comments and how they leered at Nikki, but the more he knew the men, the easier he could take them down. The noise had finally settled down, and they’d returned to their tent.

  She didn’t comment when he held on to her jacket as they lay on their makeshift dirt beds, but instead grabbed his hand, both of them quietly fighting the dread of the coming morning. Even as he slept, he kept a hand on her, the other on the knife at his side. He didn’t sleep hard. Every little sound kept him from a deep sleep. As the night wore on, somehow she ended up in his arms. For her safety, he told himself, though he knew it wasn’t only that. He didn’t want to dwell on what might have been. Not today.

  As the sky lightened, he imagined the awkward conversation between them once she woke, and he decided he better get up. He gently extracted himself from the warmth of her body. He grabbed a drink from his canteen and then headed outside their tent to take care of his human needs.

  By the time he returned, she was sitting up.

  “Morning.” He held out the canteen.

  She took it with a nod but didn’t drink, staring at the dirt.

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe this is all happening.”

  He kneeled by her. “There is still time to leave, if you want.”

  “No, there’s not. We’re more powerful where we are.” She took a drink from the canteen.

  They packed up and stashed their bags in a bush, only keeping the necessities on hand. Neither of them could stomach much for breakfast, so they headed to meet Peter and their team. The old man from the night before stood in the middle of camp and directed people to their correct teams.

  Peter’s pale blond hair stood out among the rest. He was surrounded by several large guys. Security, Caleb assumed, and on closer inspection, three of them Soultorns. Their dark eyes sickened him. If he killed them all now, it would be doing them a favor.

  “Problem?” Peter asked.

  “No.” Caleb stared him straight in the eyes, burying the desire to kill Peter and smoothing out his features. “Ready to go.”

  “We’ll be front and center. You, boy, will be in the treetop firing out ahead. Ryma, our high priest, will be joining us today and stationed in the back.” He turned to Nikki. “He has an illusionist with him, and your job is to lend him your energy if needed.”

  Caleb started to object, but Peter ignored Caleb and spoke to Nikki. “I thought with your power in healing that lending power would be second nature. Since you assist your archer here.” Peter’s impatient tone rubbed Caleb the wrong way.

  “Of course.” Nikki nodded.

  “And here he is, our Nevada.” Obvious disdain painted every one of Peter’s words.

  The thin man with short bushy hair didn’t even bother to reply. He had caramel skin, soft features that looked worn, and an emptiness in his sunken eyes.

  “Nevada and the girl will wait for Ryma and his team. The rest with me.” Peter strode off, the Soultorns and few other men falling in behind him.

  Caleb turned to Nikki, his feet leaden. He thought they would get to stay to together. Staying in the back would be safer for her, but not with Ryma. There was nothing he could do without endangering her further.

  Go, she mouthed and turned around.

  Caleb smothered his emotions and the fear threatening to ignite. They had a job to do, and he had to do it well, for her.

  Nikki hoped no one could hear her heart beating wildly in her chest. Turning away from Caleb hurt more than she’d thought it would. The idea that she would never see him again burned, bringing hot tears to press against the back of her eyes. She didn’t have a choice. If he thought she wanted to pull out, he probably would have tried, and it would have killed them both. She wasn’t going to let this be goodbye.

  “You okay, sweetheart?” Nevada leaned over to glimpse her face.

  “Fine,” she replied, blinking to clear her eyes. Doubt filled her mind. Maybe she should have forced Caleb to go back after they found the camp. Even though she was pretty sure that wasn’t an option. Her father would be furious but grateful to see her. Thankfully, the stones her father gave Caleb only worked one way, so she didn’t have to listen to her father’s anger, or worse, his goodbyes.

  She pushed aside her self-doubt. There wasn’t time for it. She turned to face Nevada. “So, we’re working together.”

  He tipped his head from side to side as if trying to read past her words. He would have been attractive if not for his hollow cheeks and tired eyes.

  “What is your particular talent, dear? You don’t feel like much of a healer. Granted, I haven’t come across a healer in years. But you do have power.”

  She shivered slightly at how much he could read off her. “Mostly defensive. But I can heal, only in more traditional ways.” Her father had trained her extensively in defensive magic, but she had more of her father’s magic in her than her father wanted to admit. With her experience, she was competent in most types of magic.

  “I’d keep that Mundane stuff to yourself,” he warned as he leaned in closer. “It’s not looked well upon here.”

  “That’s fine. The idiots can bleed to death.” She kept her voice light and sarcastic. “So you’re the illusionist.”

  “Yep. I’m not much of a fighter, more of a designer, I’d say. That’s why they’re keeping me alive anyways.” He ran a han
d through his short black hair, and it turned a sparkling shade of gold.

  She’d never met an illusionist and was amazed at his sleight of hand. Unfortunately, she knew his magic extended beyond fun party tricks.

  Power pulsed behind her as Nevada’s face fell, blank and empty. She turned to find what only could’ve been the coven leader and high priest. He approached, surrounded by Soultorns and magicians on either side. Power radiated off him. His strength was evident, easily as strong as her father. But the similarities ended there.

  A long scar marked his light skin, starting from his forehead down his jaw. His hair was buzzed short, as well as his beard. She quickly lowered her eyes before he could read more than she wanted him to. She might’ve been strong, but she needed to focus on how much she let him see.

  “Are we ready?” he addressed Nevada.

  “Peter’s just finishing up his inspirational talk.” Nevada motioned behind them where Peter addressed a large group of men.

  Ryma turned his attention to Nikki, his power pressing up against her. Instead of fighting back like most witches would, she let him in, showing him what he wanted to see—a frightened girl looking to make an extra buck.

  “Who’s this?” Ryma asked.

  “Peter found her to help me.”

  Ryma nodded, and his eyes searched for something beyond her physical appearance.

  “Better keep this one on a tight leash. If you step out of line, I’ll feed you to Kia here.” He motioned to the Soultorn that had the body of a blond Viking.

  “I won’t.”

  “Not if you want to live. Trust me, I hunt down my enemies quite well.” He had a glimmer in his eyes as if he were enjoying himself.

  She lowered her gaze and raised her guard. She believed him. So she’d have to kill him on the first try.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Seawater washed over Becca’s boots as the evacuation party made their way along the shore. Becca and Darion positioned themselves on each side of Elizabeth, helping her navigate the path.