The stubborn look on her face makes me want to scream. She doesn't get it.
“Trina, you have no idea how ruthless these people are, what they're capable of—”
“Don't I?”
Her voice is hard and flat, reminding me of the things Mare did to her not so long ago. Shit. My best friend does know what they’re capable of. I hadn't forgotten, but in this context all I want is to protect her. “Then you know how dangerous this is, and why I need you to stay here.”
“I am not staying here while you go out and fight. You could get hurt.”
“So could you! I have experience with this, and powers. I've been training. I'm not going to be all, 'I've got this, and there's nothing to worry about,' because that isn't true. I could get hurt. All of us could, but I can't be worrying about you as well while I'm out there fighting.”
“You wouldn't have to worry about me just because I’m only human.” She says ‘only human’ like it’s a bad thing.
“Dude. How could I not worry? You're my best friend.” Tears I never wanted to happen well up in my eyes and slide down my cheeks. I shake my head and try to scrub them away.
Trina looks mildly horrified. “You never cry.”
“I never used to.”
She leans against the closet doorjamb, crossing her arms tightly.
I think I'm winning. This is one battle I can't afford to lose. “Trin, please, please do this for me. I've lost too many friends already in this. Lost parts of myself with the things I've seen...and some I’ve done. I don't even know what I'd do if I lost you too.”
Emotions battle for dominance of her features. Weary resignation wins out. “Alright,” she says quietly. “I'll do this for you.”
Relief punches me in the heart and I spasm forward and grab her in a tight hug. “Thank you.”
One less thing to worry about. One less major thing to worry about.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
We break into groups of twos and threes to be more covert. A bunch of us marching down Main Street is about as subtle as a fart in a car, especially with the way we're dressed. There are limits to my concealment powers, and we have people we need to meet up with—not conducive to invisibility spells. It’s against my instincts, but I’ve got to conserve my energy.
The human world has never looked more mundane and beautiful. People are leaving work for early lunches, milling about, littering, smoking in doorways, jaywalking, talking on phones.
And I'm fighting for their lives. For their freedom. I'm not just fighting for the innocents and the cool people I like. I'm fighting for the assholes, too. Freedom isn't about making the right choices, it's about having the opportunity to make the right choice. Having the luxury of being able to do the right thing, or fail terribly. Being able to wear something ridiculous, say something offensive. Be who you are.
It’s about having the freedom to make the wrong choice and fuck up.
We’re going to fight for these people and no one will know about it. The evening news will still focus on the most horrible human stories because they're sensational and pull viewers. What we're doing won't get a mention. Some celeb entertainment will get a segment at the end of the broadcast, but no one will know what me and the Resistance are doing, will do, have done.
Maybe that's what being a hero is: Doing things when you're not in the limelight. Saving people when no one's looking.
These humans have no idea how precariously their lives are hanging in the balance.
And they never will.
It strikes me—how many times has something like this happened in humanity's short history? A threat taken down without anyone knowing about it. Being a hero isn't about parades, and accolades. It's about letting people, making people feel safe in their beds at night because guaranteed, if these people knew exactly what was going on, there would be panic in the streets, fear in the eyes and heart of every child.
What else is out there? What else have we been protected from? How many real heroes have gone unacknowledged in the night? How many have lost their lives protecting us from enemies we never knew we faced? The urge to ask Sakarias and Draven and Mom all about Fae history slams over me like an ocean wave, but I’ll have to wait to learn about our heroes and saviors.
Are we about to add to their ranks?
Misty, Kena, and I meet up with Sakarias's team at the rally point, an alley close enough to the park for easy access, far enough away to remain hidden.
I nod at him, and the tall, striking blond. She turns bluish-green eyes my way, and the sheer sexiness combined with the hair and features indicate she's Selkie-Succubus.
Her body language indicates she's interested in Sakarias.
His indicates he's clueless about it. Seriously. Clueless.
“My name's Syxx.”
She smiles and takes my hand. “Severine.”
Severine, the sexy Selkie-Succubus? Wow, that's a lot of alliteration.
She's taller than me, closer to six feet tall. Her muscles aren't as defined as mine, but she's built like a Valkyrie; big, strong, and with deadly curves. I'd be mad jealous if I didn't think she was a perfect match for Sakarias—at least from a skin deep perspective. If we all make it through this, I am so going to make sure that happens. Sakarias needs to find someone awesome to be with. Someone who is strong, sexy, and not going to be intimidated by him. Superficially, I think Severine is a good fit. Long-term, it depends on personality.
“What's the plan?” I ask Sakarias.
“You're obviously going to be team one. You will go straight into position and distract her. It could be dangerous, but you're the most powerful and best able to deal with whatever she throws at you.”
Hopefully.
“Severine, Morty, and I are team two.”
“Morty?”
A chirping comes from a few inches above my head. A slim, black squirrel clings to the bark of the tree next to me, looking for all the world like it's been listening.
“Shifter. He's going to be the go-between for us. He can climb up and see my signals, and relay them to you.”
The squirrel gives me the wink-and-the-gun pose.
I'll never look at an animal the same way again.
“We've got similar go-betweens for the other groups too.” A sparrow lands on Severine’s shoulder, and gently pecks her neck. Morse code. “The other teams are in place, Kari.”
Kari? Oh my god, she means Sakarias.
He grins and rubs his hands together. “Then we'd better get into position.” He lives for battle, and by the looks of it, so does Severine. I'd be smiling and dancing around like an asshole teasing them, if I wasn't so nervous about confronting Nakayla in the middle of a park in broad daylight.
I try to shake off my nerves. “Let's lock and load.”
Sakarias snorts. “Lock and load?”
“What?” I blush. “I heard it in a movie and thought it applied.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Shut up,” I say. “Don't you have a tree to hide behind?”
“Indeed I do. Severine.” He jerks his head, and they fade into the brush way faster than they should be able to, being that big and muscular.
“Now we wait until we get Sakarias's signal.” My heart pounds in my chest.
Kaya nods and Misty manages a wan smile. Soldier or not, Nakayla is one of her old Gods. The fact Misty's come along so readily, despite the fear that must be saturating her, really speaks to her bravery. I quickly squeeze her hand, proud of her strength.
And Kaya's too. I grab his hand as well, and we stand, connected for a moment, heads bowed against the gravity of what we're about to do.
“We can do this.”
They nod.
And we wait.
And wait.
Three minutes, five, eight, turn to thirteen. And I start to worry. Up in the tree, Morty’s still leaning out, eyes trained to Sakarias' unseen position.
Misty lets out a hiss. “Something's gone wrong. She should h
ave responded by now.”
This opportunity might never happen again. We might jeopardize things by rushing in too soon. But what if something’s gone wrong and we missed the signal, or something, and we’re standing around with our thumbs up our butts while Nakayla parades around starting a war? My heart slams inside my chest as I turn back to Morty. “Psst.”
He looks down, and scurries toward me.
“Tell him we're going in.”
Morty chirps and I can't tell if it means 'go get em,' or 'wtf are you doing, you moron?' But I continue on, having made the decision.
We crouch-run down the alley and into the park. There's a building blocking the field, giving us cover. We run around it, hugging it closely, keeping low. There are no civilians walking around, strange for Birchwood this time of day. It smells like a spell’s been worked, but I haven't heard anything, or seen anyone, and we need to keep moving instead of investigating spellwork.
I pause, worried I made the wrong decision by rushing ahead instead of waiting for the signal after all, but I trust these people to have my back. “I’m going to conceal you all with a spell. She’ll think I’m going alone—maybe that will give an advantage.”
No one argues, so I protect them, straighten my shoulders, and stride around the corner, ready to kick some ass...and see Nakayla hasn't come alone.
She stands at the ready, flanked by about fifteen Fae soldiers. At only nine, we're out-numbered and we've split up; Sakarias, and Draven's teams haven't reached us yet. We're alone in this for now. The Fae soldiers’ discipline shows in their rigid posture and absolute stillness. Except for the sharp watchfulness in their eyes, they could be statues. Shifters, Witches, a Djinn, a Selkie and a lot of hybrids, they’re all my people, but the one whose presence gets to me is a small girl, possibly part Sprite. Her green braids are pulled back from her face which only makes her dark eyes seem even larger. I’d be surprised if she’s even thirteen years old.
Child soldiers. But somehow that fact wasn’t this stark until now. How could I kill this girl?
I throw another shield over everyone, their side included, because no matter what happens, I don't want any humans to hear or see what's going on here and come to investigate at their peril. I make the shield open for any of our allies, hoping my intention is enough to keep this contained.
I stride closer, confidently, because I refuse to give Nakayla the satisfaction of seeing me skulk as though I’m afraid of her. She makes an imposing figure, standing tall in black and red leather, tactical yet fashionable in a dominatrix-y sort of way. Her black and white hair is swept up, adding a few inches to her height.
Her and Verica could have the same stylist. The bitchy thought almost makes me smile.
Nakayla smirks. “This is the best you can do? Showing up alone because your friends ran away?” She laughs. “Us against one? At least it will be a quick fight.”
“That’s not all.” Kaya’s voice comes from behind me as his team arrives.
Thank god.
Nakayla’s cruel smile freezes as Kaya breaks through my shield and walks in front of me. “Kaya? What are you doing here? I thought you were in Spain.”
“I'm not in Spain, and I'm not on your side, Nakayla.” Standing in front of me, his face isn’t visible to me. His hands are balled into fists, but his head is held high.
The Fae soldiers’ eyes widen as I release my concealment spell and my friends appear in a line behind us. No point hiding since Kaya’s here now.
“Misty?” One of the soldiers behind Nakayla takes a half step forward before stopping, realizing he was about to break formation. “You're alive.”
Misty moves forward. “Sobi! Yes, Ibor and I made it, and Janska too.”
Hope and relief shine from his eyes. “They told us you were dead. That you—”
“Silence.” Nakayla's voice rings out, and the soldier closes his mouth and looks at the ground. Nakayla strides back and stands in his space, giving him a steel glare from right up close.
I hate her. I hate her for creating an army of children who grow into adults who would kill me and everyone I love—and I’m supposed to kill them. And for what?
It looks like I'm not the only one who doesn’t want to be here—more than a few of the soldiers’ faces are tight with suppressed emotions.
Words force their way from my heart to my throat. “You don't have to do this. You don't have to listen to her anymore. You're all stronger than this, better than this and we are not who they taught you we are. They’ve done nothing but lie to you. Humans are not your enemy—we are not the enemy. We're on the same side. There doesn't have to be a fight between us today. Let Nakayla fight her own battle, but don’t jump in and fight for her. She does not deserve your loyalty.”
“Don't listen to this little girl.” Nakayla sneers, though she doesn't look much older than me. “She's trying to prevent the fight because she’s weak and knows she will lose. She's scared of you. And she should be.”
Misty steps forward, looking past Nakayla to the soldiers. “You know me. Most of us grew up together. Sobi, Elm, Belle. Nova. Jan, Jek, Stene. Shar. Raven.” She addressed them by name, reminding them of connections forged in their pasts. “I am one of you, but I'm not with her.” She flings a contemptuous hand toward Nakayla, who is doing her best to look bored by this. I know the tactic: hide your worries so you look like the strongest one in the battle. Act like the enemy isn't telling you anything new, and that you're so unconcerned that they appear powerless; inconsequential.
Misty continues. “I got out. So much of what they told us is a lie.” She points at me. “Syxx isn't weak. She's a Moondreamer and Ashria's only daughter.”
Some of the soldiers’ eyes widen, but a few still stare straight ahead as though wary of buying into this in case it comes back to bite them.
Misty takes another step forward. “Jek, Stene. There is a word for the connection you share, the same as Ibor and I share. It's called pair-bonding, and it's normal, and natural. It means you're each other's perfect match. Syxx also shares a connection like we have to a Cambion. Her mate, Draven.”
The matching expressions of shock, and cautious hope in the way they glance at each other, identify the two she was speaking to.
I nod. “It's true. It's not unnatural, or discouraged at all. Pair-bonding makes you stronger, makes you better. I don’t need to tell you. You can feel with everything in your core that it is so right that you're together.”
Misty continues. “They've taken so much from us. And for what? They've used lies to put us in cages, only taking us out when it suits them and their agendas. But they're bullshit. Haven't we all felt it, deep down, that none of it made sense? The half-answers, the abuse some of us—most of us—went through.”
A male soldier at the end of the line balls his hands into fists, but it's an emotional reaction to her words, not a confrontational motion, and I relax.
“Haven't we all wondered why our lives were not our own? Why we grew up that way, knowing there were other Fae out there who weren't brought up as we were.”
Nakayla steps forward. “As touching as all this is—”
“You let her speak.” Kaya's deep voice resounds, commanding silence, adding weight to Misty's words, for the soldiers all know Kaya and Nakayla are twins. Kaya draws his dagger, holds it at the ready.
“This isn't our fight. There isn't a fight at all,” Misty says.
Nakayla's steps forward, addressing the soldiers. “You all know what happens to traitors. Don't let this little defector try to sway you. Misery loves company.”
“And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?” Kaya’s voice shakes. “You weren't always like this. What happened?”
Nakayla’s gaze softens. “What does it matter?”
“Because I deserve the truth. Why would you do this?”
Her posture shifts, she seems smaller, more fragile. “I did it for us, Kaya,” she says, pleading with her voice. “I had to keep you safe. You wer
e too pure to do this and so I took it on for us. I became a member of the High Council for us.”
Wow, what a hero. Not.
“Kaya, don't listen to her.” Trina’s voice rings out, calm and assured.
Surprise sends an unpleasant zing through my veins. What the hell is she doing here? Trina had to have been right behind us to get in before I shielded the park. Shit. I flick my gaze in the direction her voice came from, but she’s out of my line of sight and I can't risk looking away from Nakayla. If she gets away now, we're supremely screwed. “I can’t.”
Kaya shakes his head. “But the things you've done, ‘Kayla.” His voice is fissured with emotion. “How could you ever think I'd want any of that?”
Is he seriously buying the old, 'I did this for us' bit? I know how much he wants to believe it's true. Who wouldn't want their loved one to turn to the side of good at the last minute and redeem themselves for all they've done, to see the error of their terrible ways before it’s too late. We want it, but it’s highly fucking unlikely.
Maybe I'm just cynical after Skortia's betrayal.
Misty moves a bit closer to the soldiers, keeping her hands in plain sight, weapon-free.
Where are Sakarias and Draven's teams? Why aren't they here yet?
Nakayla's focusing on Kaya, and steps closer to him. “I had to make it believable. It killed me to do, to distance myself from you and treat you the way I did, but I did it.” A tear slides down her cheek. “Yet you believed I was evil, so easily. That hurt more than anything else.”
Kaya lowers his dagger.
Not everyone sees the gleam in her eyes, but I do, which makes it harder on me when she lunges, turns Kaya’s own blade against him, and thrusts it into his body and out his back, faster than I'm able to react.
“Kaya, no!” Trina’s shout hurts my ears.
The soldiers tense and Nakayla savagely twists the sword and smiles when Kaya screams. “My god, you're so weak. How do you live with yourself, being so pathetic? Let me help you with that.”
Gunshots ring out from somewhere, again and again, drenching the air with the acrid scent of powder as I run toward Kaya. I avoid the tip of the sword poking through his back and grab his shoulders, pulling him away from Nakayla. Blood sprays into the air as the blade pulls free, and I force my shock down and focus on Nakayla to make her pay.
The Reaping (The Moondreamer Chronicles Book 2) Page 21