“Do you hear that?” Keva whispers.
“It’s started,” Daniel replies, looking pale.
I repress a shiver at the distant sounds of battle. Gale’s plan has worked. Oberon’s and the cousins’ concerted attack has managed to draw out most of the Dark Sidhe that otherwise haunt the school.
“Come on,” Hadrian urges us, and we all find refuge inside Miss Linette’s ransacked herbarium.
The spacious classroom is eerily quiet. It smells of mildew and fire, the professor’s preciously-tended plants and flowers having been mercilessly put to the flame, every pot and vial destroyed. But despite the carnage, it seems there are enough traces of Fey-repellant plants and concoctions left to have kept the Dark Sidhe at bay.
“Time to split up,” Arthur says.
Keva gives me a wobbly smile. “Are you sure you’ll be fine without me?” she asks.
This is the first time we’ll be separated since getting out of Hell. She’s to go with Gale, Hadrian, Daniel and Blanchefleur down to the prison to set whoever’s left from our school free.
I let out a raspy laugh. “I’ve got the banshee with me, don’t I?” I say. “Besides, if we succeed, they’ll be cut off from their reinforcements.”
“Let’s hope Carman will get stuck on the other side too,” Keva says.
“Let’s go, Keva,” Hadrian calls out, his eyes flicking over to me, mistrust plain on his face.
“Let’s hope,” I manage to say, as Keva leaves, flicking her long braid over her shoulder.
◆◆◆
Arthur leads us straight into a passage that separates the herbarium from the library, and I gag as I take in a whiff of something that smells suspiciously like a clogged-up toilet. It seems to be coming from a dark archway to our left and, to my greatest disgust, it’s where Arthur wants us to go.
Kaede goes in first, followed by Lugh, neither of them making a sound in the dark staircase.
“Watch it,” Arthur whispers, motioning to a wet spot on the floor as I finally muster the courage to go up the stairs.
I nod, but no matter how much I wish to avoid it, the thick goo is everywhere, coating every step and the railing itself, as if a giant slug’s marked its territory in here. Soon, the sucking sounds of boots treading up the stairs are so loud, I’m afraid we’re going to be found out long before we reach the KORT room. Except we’re not.
Heart thumping, I finally reach the first-floor landing, and wait for Arthur’s signal to move into the hallway. I still keep expecting demons to pop out of one of the rooms, or perhaps Mordred, or even Carman herself. But as we pass by shredded tapestries, and door after wrecked door, without meeting another soul, my breathing slowly eases. Gale’s plan is working way better than I thought!
At last, we round another corner and the KORT room’s carved door comes into view, waiting for us at the other end of the corridor. Our footsteps grow more hurried. Already I can pick out the wooden panel’s intricate detail’s—the scales on the dragon’s body, the raised hackles on the hunting dogs’ necks.
“Stand back!” Lugh bellows from behind us.
We skid to a sudden stop as the ebony door swings open, revealing a roomful of demons, and my stomach plummets. Of course, this was too easy. I should’ve known.
“Miss me much?” a beautiful man says, his eyes the icy blue of winter lakes, blond hair so pale it looks like snow.
“Gadreel,” I whisper, stomach sinking.
“It has been a while,” Lugh says, edging his way in front of us. “In fact, it should have been a while longer still.”
“I thought you’d had your balls cut off, pretty boy,” Gad says with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Bet daddy will be happy to do it for you, though.”
A muscle twitches in Lugh’s cheek. “Balor will remain in the deepest pit of Hell,” he says, “and I will make sure you join him back there.”
Gad lets out a soft chuckle that makes my hairs stand on end. “I’d love to play with you, but I’ve got to finish the game I started with your girl first. She’s been rather naughty of late.”
Lugh lunges forward, energy crackling all around him. Gad doesn’t move, doesn’t try to dodge the attack. Then a large shadow moves between them, colliding into Lugh with the force of a hurricane. The blast hurls me backward, slamming me against the wall. Light explodes in the hallway as I land flat on the floor, the wind knocked out of me.
I twist around, use the wall to pull myself to my feet, and try to shake the loud buzzing from my ears. Lugh’s gone, a large gash cutting across the flagstones the only trace left of his presence.
“Where is he?” I ask, my voice sounding muffled to my own ears.
“Oh, don’t expect Lugh to come to your rescue any time soon,” Gad says, as more demons crowd in behind him, “Az is keeping him busy.”
I swallow hard, telling myself this is good, that we have one less demon to face, that Lugh’s strong. But so is Azazel.
“Morgan?” Arthur calls out.
“Fine,” I say, catching sight of Kaede at the end of the opposite hallway.
Gad’s grin widens. “Ready to play?” he asks.
The banshee scuttles to my side, and I play on my injury to lean into her. “You guys get the chair,” I whisper to her.
She goes very still, before I push away from her, eyes boring into the statuesque demon.
“Have you come to steal my power?” I ask him, trying to keep Gadreel’s focus on me while I inch away from the rest of my party.
“What power?” Gad asks with a smirk. “You can barely stand.”
“Funny you should say that,” I say, “cause last time I saw you, you were begging for just a taste of it. On your knees.”
The moment I see the vein at his temple throb, I know I’ve got him.
“Isn’t that why Az has to protect you from Lugh?” I continue, reaching for my power.
For a moment, I’m afraid I’ve gotten too cocky. I haven’t tried using my abilities since I’ve gotten back from Hell. What if they don’t work?
But then I feel it respond deep in the pit of my stomach, rolling over, stretching, as if waking from a long sleep. I open my hand and water erupts from my palm in a thick torrent to go crashing into the KORT room.
“Now!” I shout at the others.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Arthur and Kaede rush inside, but the banshee remains behind me. And as she growls at Gad, I find myself glad she didn’t listen.
Gad’s laugh resounds through the hallway, water dripping harmlessly down his soaked hair. “I’d take you a little more seriously if you weren’t shaking so much,” he says.
I sense his attack before I see it. I throw myself to the side, taking the banshee down with me, just as the floor explodes in a shower of dust and pebbles. With a low hiss, the banshee throws herself in front of me as Gadreel punches the air again.
There’s a thunderous crack and the banshee flies into the arched windows, her body hitting one of the stone pillars before sliding soundlessly to the floor in a pile of grey rags. My mind goes blank with rage. I kick off hard from the floor, vision narrowed down to one target only: Gadreel.
The demon flashes another smile at my approach. This is a game to him. But at the last second, I veer to the left, kicking sideways as I go. His punch connects with my booted foot in a resounding clap, sending me flying through the KORT room.
Without slowing down, I use my momentum to bounce off the back of some creature, bone crunching beneath my boots, then hurtle straight back at Gad. The demon spins around, lifting his left arm to counter me. This time, I don’t avoid the contact. I ram into Gad, flattening him against the wall. My fingers close around his neck, and I let all my rage and hatred pour out.
Gad’s smirk disappears as my power shoots straight into him, wave after burning wave, his alabaster skin turning black around the collar. The smell of burning meat is thick in my nostrils as he punches me in the sides. I feel my rubs crack, but refuse to let go. All I c
an think of is to make him pay for what he’s done to the banshee, and rid the earth of this scumbag.
Gad’s eyes grow wide with fear. “What are you?” he croaks, now desperate to pry my fingers off him.
It is my turn to smile as I bring him down to his knees. “Haven’t you heard?” I drawl, my hands never leaving his neck as his body starts twitching beneath me. “I am the devil’s daughter.”
“Enough, Morgan!”
I snarl at Arthur as he grabs me roughly by the arm to pull me away from Gad. He flinches, hazel eyes wide in shock, and I freeze.
“Misstresss!” the banshee calls out.
I blink at my raised hand, note my curled fingers poised to strike, and slowly drop it again.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, shivers running down my back. “I didn’t mean…”
My eyes fall upon Gad’s body still spasming on the floor, his torso, throat, and half of his beautiful face now a disturbing tableau of blisters and open wounds, as if he’s been cooked from the inside. Then, with a final jerk of his foot, the demon stops moving.
It’s over. Bile rises to my throat.
“Come, we need to get out of here,” Arthur says harshly.
“What about the Siege—” I start.
“Didn’t work,” Arthur says through gritted teeth.
“Over here,” Kaede says, emerging from the KORT room covered in black ichor. “Quick!”
I glance around at the sound of heavy footsteps coming from the other hallway. The banshee takes down the first intruder with a well-placed stab to the neck, but more are coming.
“Come on, Morgan!” Arthur shouts, moving after Kaede.
“Banshee!” I call out, following the others inside the KORT room.
The place is littered with corpses, the massive round table still intact despite the blood sprayed across its dark wood. And, standing innocuously beside it, is the Siege Perilous, its demon and angel carvings motionless now that Mordred’s not sitting on it.
Arthur’s waiting for me at the entrance of the once-hidden alcove that hid the scrying mirror, the long velvet drapes that covered it now shredded. The very place where I stabbed him.
“Come on,” he urges me.
But I can’t make myself move. I look back at the Siege Perilous, hating how much we’ve sacrificed for this chance to destroy it, only to fail.
“There’s gotta be a way,” I say.
“It must be activated before you can even think to destroy it.”
I jump at the soft voice and Arthur swings Excalibur around to point it at the girl making her slow way out of the alcove’s recess.
“Jennifer?” Arthur asks.
Jennifer’s rosy cheeks dimple, looking breathtakingly beautiful. I frown. There’s something off with her, more so than usual. Arthur and I both step back as she continues to advance.
“Arthur,” she says, with a slight dip of her head. “It has been a while since we last saw each other.”
“Aren’t you…I thought you were being held prisoner,” Arthur stammers.
“Things have changed since you left me, Arthur,” Jennifer says, stopping only when we bump against the round table.
There’s a rush of movement at the door and I swing my attention back to the front of the room in time to see the banshee duck beneath a troll’s fist.
I raise my hands, fire springing to life above my blackened fingers. “Perhaps you two should have your little lovers’ spat another time,” I say. “Down!” I shout to the banshee.
She drops to the floor as I send a blaze of fire sizzling over her cowl, hitting the troll in the chest. Jennifer’s laugh is a little more strident this time, unhinged. I cock an inquisitive eyebrow in her direction.
“Why are you being so mean to me, Morgan?” she asks.
Yep. Definitely off. Being held captive here must have made her lose the rest of her marbles, and she didn’t have that many to begin with.
“After everything I’ve done for you?” she continues.
I frown. “You mean after you tried to kill me?”
She waves her hand dismissively, before settling it sweetly on Arthur’s arm. “Oh, but I sent you a present so you could forgive me,” she says, trailing her finger absently on the lapel of Arthur’s jacket. “Did you not receive it?”
“Present?” I echo in confusion.
“Hmmm, I recall you getting attached to this one human up on the surface world,” Jennifer says in mock thought. “Did I get it wrong?”
“Jennifer,” Arthur says in warning.
“You know,” Jennifer continues, cruel eyes not leaving my face, “the one who gave birth right after you rescued her? Did you not see her down there?”
“What?” I say feebly. For a second, I’m back in Hell, staring at the cadavers that have poured out of the overturned cauldron.
“I’m afraid returns aren’t possible,” Jennifer coos. “But I can always get you another one. I hear her son is now with his grandpa.”
“It was you?” I ask.
“It did make it to you then,” Jennifer says with a feral smile that reminds me of Carman. “No need to thank me then. It was my pleasure.”
“Will you shut up?” Arthur shouts, slapping Jennifer across the face so hard, her lip breaks open.
Anger flashes on her beautiful face, but then her smile comes back in full force. “Oh, Arthur, darling,” she says, licking the blood from her lips. “I know Morgan’s always been your weak point. But it’s OK. I forgive you. After all, if it weren’t for you abandoning me in my time of direst need, I wouldn’t have discovered my inner strength.”
She raises her hand, red sparks trailing her delicate fingers in the air.
“You see,” she continues, “I’ve found out I’m also part Gibborim. Let me show you.”
“No!” I shout, as if from far away.
Jennifer’s hand flies towards Arthur, lightning gathered around it. I watch him lift his sword arm in defense. Too slow.
Then Kaede’s suddenly behind, deadly blades singing as she swings them down. But, to my surprise, Jennifer evades the attack gracefully, slashing her arm instead in Kaede’s direction. The knight ducks under the lightning bolt, spinning around, swords extended, forcing Jennifer away from us.
“Lady Kaede, is that really you?” Jennifer asks, evading Kaede’s relentless offensives without ever breaking a sweat.
I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from the two girls, their moves so quick I have a hard time seeing them. When did Jennifer get so good at fighting? Then I hear a slight gasp and Jennifer falls down to one knee, her long dress caught under Kaede’s boot.
“Jennifer!” Arthur calls out, making Kaede look up.
“Don’t,” I say, trying to stop him.
“But she’s one of us,” Arthur says. “She must—”
His next words are swallowed in the explosion that follows as Jennifer blasts Kaede off her, taking part of the wall with it. Arthur’s brows furrow in confusion as Jennifer slowly gets back to her feet, dusting her dress off.
I fling my hands out, ready to defend us at the slightest wrong move from her.
“What did they do to you?” Arthur asks.
Jennifer trains her cold blue eyes on him. “They didn’t do anything to me, Arthur,” she says. “Haven’t you been listening? I am a daughter of the Nephilim, just like your beloved Morgan.”
A deep chill settles in my bones. What is she saying?
My bewilderment must have shown, for Jennifer’s cheeks dimple once again.
“Oh, Morgan, you never were too bright, were you?” she says, raising every hair on my body. “Well, let me spell it out for you: I am part Fey too.”
Chapter 19
“Still doesn’t make you likeable,” I say automatically, my brain unable to compute Jennifer’s latest inane assertion.
Surely the girl must be kidding, or she must’ve been brainwashed. There’s no way the one who professed her hatred for the Fey on a daily basis, the one who tried
to kill me…also has Fey blood in her. But the way she fought Kaede, the explosion she caused, all without a single ogham on her, give credence to her words.
“Misst—”
The banshee’s cry of alarm is cut short.
“Banshee!” Arthur and I shout together as she topples over sideways.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” Mordred says, kicking the banshee’s body aside to step through the doorway.
I balk at his sight, eyes gliding back and forth between him and Jennifer, mind racing. Mordred’s hooded eyes scan the KORT room, taking in the damage we’ve caused. His woad tattoos are stark against his pale skin, that strange horn of his hanging from a long yellow silk belt at his hip. I narrow my eyes, momentarily distracted by the colorful garment.
“When you escaped from Carman’s clutches,” Mordred says, brows lowered, “I thought you’d have been smart enough to vanish for good. Instead, you make a spectacle of yourself, and get more of your precious knights killed in the process. Not that I mind this in the least.”
His words form a tight knot of fear in my chest.
“Smart isn’t part of her vocabulary,” Jennifer says with a disdainful sneer, gliding over to Mordred, and snaking her arms around his waist possessively.
I look back down at his yellow belt, comprehension dawning, and bark out a shocked laugh. “A Lady’s Favour?” I ask, still giggling uncontrollably. “You two are together, really?”
Arthur’s concerned look turns into one of horror as he takes in my brother and his ex.
But I remember the night Mordred kidnapped me, when he’d asked me about my life at Lake High, the classes, and the students. The conversation had quickly turned to Jennifer—the most beautiful girl the world had ever seen, as he’d quoted. I’d taken his curiosity to stem from the desire of someone who wanted to know as much about his enemy as possible.
But it was more than that. I guessed as much back in Hell. Mordred’s my brother, a boy whose life was stolen from him when he was little.
And now he’s stealing it back.
“Do you remember what I told you, Mordred?” I say. “About finding a better way to get what you want?”
Curse of the Fey: A Modern Arthurian Legend (Morgana Trilogy Book 3) Page 15