Enticed

by Jessica Shirvington

  While still keeping sight of the approaching engagement I cast my eyes quickly over the sleeping bodies lining the street. Why hadn"t anyone said anything to us, stopped us, when we clearly didn"t belong here, from entering into their indisputable territory? I took in one, then two, then three figures tucked into their sleeping bags, unmoving. Energy hummed through my body and a cruel worked its way up into the base of my ribs.

  I had let it once before – had allowed the energy to take over my body, forcing me to the ground, paralysing me in the pain of others. I grabbed Lincoln"s arm. He didn"t look back but I had his attention.

  „They"re all dead. They"ve kil ed them all," I said, all too aware that the exiles were moving closer by the second. Agents of death.

  „Linc, should I … you know?" I whispered shakily. He knew what I was suggesting. Just after becoming a Grigori I had found myself in the unpleasant position of being surrounded by exiles while mortally wounded. It was then that I discovered that I could do more than strip an exile"s powers or return them to the angel realm for judgement. Grigori rely on physical contact with an exile, through which they can incapacitate the exile for long enough to return them. It appeared I didn"t need that contact and in fact could extend my power to include multiple exiles at the same time.

  „No. your power"s spiking all over the place. Are you okay?" Lincoln replied quickly under his breath. They were getting closer.

  The senses were on edge but I had them under control … just.

  „I"m okay. I could try."

  „Stay focused. Stick to the plan," he whispered back. But his tone left little room for discussion.

  Great. The plan. The one that has me all dagger happy.

  Except I"m not.

  Lincoln and Griffin had insisted that I still had to enter combat the same way as all other Grigori. That is wasn"t enough for me to rely on my power to get me out of everything. In theory I agreed. But at this very moment – standing smack bang in the middle of a slaughter zone while two over-stimulated, decidedly unhinged exiles moved in on us – it seemed extreme.

  The exiles stopped in front of us, smiling. They were assessing us the way only otherworldly creatures can. A flick of the eyes, showing a defensive mechanism, and hunger at the same time. Exiles, whether light or dark, hated Grigori and loved killing us above all others. We were their greatest – their only – threat. If exiles were successful in eliminating us, there would be no hope for anyone else.

  „You are a little late," said the shorter of the two, the one with the bloodied arm, like he"d been waiting for us.

  Lincoln had already positioned himself level with him, not that I needed the heads-up that this one was more derailed of the two.

  „It"s a pity. We would have liked to have kept a few to tear apart in front of you. I prefer an audience. But we got bored." He smiled, perfectly white teeth, pink full lips. Had I not been so sure of the senses I would have sworn he was a sixteen-year-old jock. That was the thing about exiles – they all looked healthy and strong, all in their prime.

  „You knew we were coming?" Lincoln asked, twisting his body a little more, shielding me.

  The exile laughed. „I have a message for you."

  „And I thought your days as messengers were over."

  The jock-looking exile licked his lips, barely restraining himself. „The reward of getting to kil you," he glanced at me," and her, is sufficient incentive."

  „Well?" Lincoln said, showing no concern.

  The exile"s smile broadened and he spoke softly. „Nahilius said to tell you he"s coming for what"s yours."

  Lincoln stiffened. The exile cackled loudly.

  „Make your choice," Lincoln growled. There was no denying that when he went into fighter mode, he was lethal. But so were they.

  „Choice?" The jock-looking exile licked his lips, barely restraining himself. „So kind of you to offer. I think I will choose decapitation for you and something a bit more … fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants for her." He looked to me, his buddy laughing away. Then I saw it. It was gone as quickly as it had come, but it was definitely there. Recognition.

  He could sense me, could sense my power. Of course, given what he could sense and what he"d probably heard I could do to him, he should have run. Instead, true to exile form, he lunged towards me, relishing the challenge.

  Lincoln was ready, his arm out intercepting the exile, coat-hangering his forearm into his opponent"s neck, breaking his speed and redirecting his attention. That was all I had time to see before my own creepy once-was-angel started throwing punches in my direction.

  Why is it that they all know how to fight?

  Exiles seemed to come to Earth, take human forms and although none of them had great technique, they all knew how to hit. Hard. Luckily for me, thanks to many hours of training and some angelic augmentation, so did I.

  We exchanged blow for blow. I"m not short for a girl, he was tall for a man, so he had that over me. He got in a few good knocks to my face, but he really favoured his right side I just kept moving towards it, getting nice and close so he couldn"t gain any leverage against me. I was getting on top of things, a series of kicks in his legs had him shaky. I hadn"t landed one in that magic spot that would blow out his knee, but he was stumbling.

  A glow of colours lit up to my right. I knew what it was, but I looked anyway. Lincoln had the jock in a headlock and as I turned, I saw him plunge his dagger into the exile, returning him. What I failed to see was the tall exile"s fist heading straight for my ear. It was a sucker punch, but then these guys had no morals let alone fighting ethics. I was caught off-balance and could feel the warm wetness that could only be blood seeping down the side of my neck as I fell, now completely aware of the exile coming down on top of me.

  My hand went instinctively to my dagger, my fingers wrapped fiercely around the hilt.

  There was an opening I was going down, he had launched himself over me, but I had time. If I hadn"t hesitated I could have got it out, I could have returned him.

  Instead, my shoulder smashed into the gravel road and I rolled onto my back quickly in an attempt to evade him. He collided into me so hard I felt the top of my spine being ground into the road and screamed. I punched him in the face twice, but he was too close now and had taken the advantage. He drove his knee into my stomach and drew back a clenched fist for what I knew was going to hurt, a lot.

  But it didn"t. He never got his chance.

  Al I saw was Lincoln"s dagger coming through the exile"s chest, the glory of his power"s colourful mist and then, the exile was gone.

  Lincoln stood above me, strong and ready for anything. I looked into his fighter eyes and they took a moment to soften. He put his hand out and helped me up. It was warm and real, and he pulled me into him and wrapped an arm around me to help me walk.

  „I couldn"t." I wanted to explain, to give an acceptable excuse. I was letting him down by not stepping up. I wasn"t just putting myself in danger but everyone else as well.

  We walked away from the scene. The bodies of the exiles had disappeared but we were still surrounded by a killing field of homeless, dead people no one would claim and barely any would even notice gone. It had been too easy for the exiles to torture them. I felt bad walking away, like I was being disrespectful, but there was no option. We"d inform the police anonymously later. We couldn"t risk getting pulled into murder investigations we could never explain.

  „You did great. I can"t sense any more of them," he said, looking around. „Can you?" He sounded unusually anxious.

  „No," I said, looking down. „Do you know they were talking about? Who"s Nahilius?"

  Lincoln hesitated. „Just a troublemaker. No one for you to worry about."

  „Oh," I said, keeping my on him as he looked away.

  Lincoln tightened the arm he had around me, supporting me. „It"s just going to take some time. What you went through … in the desert. It"s okay that you need some time."

  „You"re upset with me, I can
see it," I said, wincing at the pain in both my ear and at the back of my neck.

  „What"s the first rule in combat Violet?" He spoke in his training voice. This time my cringe wasn"t at the pain, but at the stupidity that I was about to have to admit to.

  „Never take your eyes off your opponent."

  „Exactly." We walked on. He didn"t need to say any more. We both knew, this one was all on me.

  When we turned the corner, out into a busier street, he pulled me a little closer, protectively. I loved being tucked in his arms, wrapped in his warmth, and wished we could have our chance to explore what we were to one another.

  „We need to get you away from here so I can heal you."

  A drunk man dressed in a suit of rags slumped against the wall by the roadside and as we passed, his almost empty bottle fell from his hands, clinking into the gutter and making me look down. I stopped walking. I could feel something. Not the senses, something else. It was … stale. A lingering shadow of something …

  I reached down and picked up the bottle to hand to the derelict. But I hadn"t thought it through and as I straightened paid the price with a wicked head-spin followed by the throb of all throbs from my neck right up to my temples.

  I shut my eyes briefly and took a slow breath. Lincoln steadied me.

  „You dropped this," I said, holding the bottle out to the drifter.

  The man looked up.

  So many things happened within a split second. First, the effort of reaching out made the man lose balance and his upper half joined his lower half on the ground again. Second, I gasped. Third, Lincoln pushed me behind him and pulled out his dagger in the middle of a busy street.

  Then … Onyx burst out laughing.

  CHAPTER THREE

  „ But we all are men, in our own natures frail,

  and capable of our flesh: few are angels …"

  William Shakespeare

  „Final y! I"ve been waiting for you," he hiccupped through a series of wet chesty coughs,

  „to come kil me with your little knife!"

  He lay back on the ground, arms splayed. „Go ahead! Anywhere you like! Just make it count but not my face." He closed his eyes and laughed again while he started to sing a tuneless ditty, „Final y … final y … final y … they have come for me!"

  „Oh my God," I said, pul ing up to stand beside Lincoln.

  There are a great many things to fear out there, even when you are supernaturally strong and fast, and although the memories of what Onyx had done to me – how he had filleted me thought the back unrepentantly and smiled as he watched life drain from my body – were fresh, there was little doubt that this man was a mere shadow of what had once been a very formidable, frightening enemy.

  „What are you doing here?" Lincoln asked, not nearly as steady as usual. I realised he might be remembering his own near-death experience at the hands of Onyx. My hands flinched, instinctively wanting to comfort him, but I stopped myself. It wasn"t cool so show weakness – even less cool to expose someone else"s.

  Onyx opened his eyes into slits and wheezed some more. „Christ be damned! You haven"t come to kil me have you?"

  „No," I said.

  „I suppose you were after that lot down the road. Noisy ones. No finesse." Even through slurred words the sounds of contempt and longing were clear. „I see they had some fun with you, though," he said, looking at the blood dripping from my ear.

  „So much fun they"re no longer with us," I sniped defensively. Although I could hardly take the credit.

  „Lucky bastards."

  „You can stil sense them?" Lincoln asked.

  „In a way. Not that I needed to. Would"ve been more subtle if they"d come in with tanks. If you haven"t come to kil me – go away." He snatched the bottle that was stil dangling from my hand and shuffled back to the wall.

  I glanced at Lincoln. He looked appalled by the sight and stench of this man. I was sure his reaction was mirrored in my own face. „What are we going to do?" I asked.

  „What do you mean? We"re going to get out of here and get you healed. Come one." He motioned for us to move on, yet his eyes didn"t leave Onyx.

  „Have you, umm … seen one like this before?" I swayed a little, the pain becoming unbearable. The shock had held it off till now.

  „No," he said, hiding his concern with impatience. „You"re losing too much blood."

  I shook my head and recoiled. „I know this is going to sound crazy, but I can"t just …

  could we at least get him cleaned up a bit?" I held my breath.

  Lincoln pulled me a few paces away from where Onyx was in the process of finishing the dregs if what looked like a bottle of bourbon.

  „Violet, are you forgetting what he did?" he asked, in a hushed but frantic tone.

  „No, I just …"

  „This could be some kind of set-up. He said himself he could stil sense them, he"s probably working with them." He shook his head then looked back at Onyx again. „It"s too risky. Especially the state that you"re in."

  „We don"t have to take him anywhere private. We"re due to meet with Griffin in a minute.

  Maybe we should just take him to Hades with us?"

  Before we could talk any more, Onyx pulled himself up to stand, using the wall for balance. He looked over to us and then … spat.

  We watched as his lougie hit Lincoln"s boot and simultaneously turned back to Onyx who had started swinging the now empty bottle, making it clear that it would be the next thing headed in our direction.

  „Filthy Grigori," he slurred.

  „Right," Lincoln said, turning to me, „can we please go now?"

  We left Onyx by the side of the road with his empty bottle and little else.

  -

  It probably wasn"t the best idea going straight to a club with an open head wound, but we real y were late to meet Griffin and I"d insisted I was okay, much to Lincoln"s distress. Apart from the fact that my ear had suffered a massive trauma and was not up for the thumping bass sounds that go hand-in-hand with any good club, my face, neck and shoulder were also caked in blood. I was glad I couldn"t see the damage.

  The bouncer opened the massive swing door that had changed recently from a glossy black finish to an equally polished burnt orange. After a good look up and down, it was promising we were stopping to collect someone, that he let us in.

  Griffin was sitting at the bar. He always looked awkward in his uniform of black pants and navy shirts. He was old-fashioned in style, but I was beginning to think that might be the best thing about him. His loyalty was old-fashioned too.

  He was talking to a man we both recognised as the owner of Hades. Neither Lincoln nor I had met him before but we were aware of him and that Griffin believed he was more than human. It was obvious that whatever Griffin was saying to him had the owner looking seriously annoyed.

  „Should we give them a minute?" I asked Lincoln, as he helped me through the press of party-goers. My head was exploding.

  „What? And miss out on the fun?" He gave me a wink. I smiled and my heart fluttered as his eyes stayed on me for that moment longer than „only friends".

  Griffin saw us approach and quickly took in the state of me. „Do I need to ask?" He spoke with a fatherly tone that I"d learned not to baulk at. Griffin was technically eight-four and since everything had happened – the way I"d embraced and then faced Onyx and Joel – I"d earned his confidence.

  He rolled his eyes when I didn"t respond. „It looks like reinforcements couldn"t arrive soon enough."

  I nodded. He wasn"t going to get any argument from me. Two tutors and three students from the Grigori training centre in New York were arriving in two days and I couldn"t be happier. I was going to be able to learn from the experts and have people my own age to train with, something I really needed. I was sure with their help I would be able to get over whatever it was that had been holding me back. Not to mention the other reason their services were required: the Scripture that can decipher the identity of
all Grigori, even those who have not yet embraced and are therefore defenceless, was never far from my mind. I would not stand by and watch it fall into the hands of exiles. If they found key to destroying Grigori and gained the upper hand the slaughter would not stop until all humans knelt before them, worshipping them as gods.

  „See!" yelled the owner over the music. „This is exactly what I mean. You people can"t treat this place as some kind of drop-in centre. I"m running a business. I don"t want to be involved in this … this … I mean, Christ!" He gestured sharply in my direction. „She look"s like roadkil !"

  I looked at Lincoln.

  „You do look pretty bad." He smiled.

  „I"l go to the bathroom and clean up. I"m sorry," I said to the owner.

  „Well, shit. Don"t go into the girls" bathroom looking like that." He ground his jaw. „You can come upstairs."

  I looked at Griffin and Lincoln suddenly feeling a different type of uncomfortable.

  „Yes, yes!" he jumped in, before any of us could say anything. „You can all bloody well come." He stormed off down the long side of the bar and through an unmarked door at the end, sparing us a Hurry the hell up glance.

  We trudged up the stairs to a short corridor with three doors, Griffin filling us in as we walked. „His name is Dapper. He"s some kind of Seer. I"m stil not clear on the details, but I do know that he can see what we all are. He seems to be able to see auras that surround people. I think he can pretty much identify anything supernatural."

  „That"s handy. What"s he playing for?" Lincoln asked.

  Griffin clicked his tongue. „Wel , that"s the problem. He"s a bencher with no intention of changing status."

  „Could be worse," Lincoln said.

  „True."

  Lincoln eyed me again. „You holding up?"

  „I"m good," I said, my vision blurring.