Prophecy Girl (The Five Orders Book 1)

by Holly Roberds

  My hands moved down to Emma’s hips where I rocked them against my own and a guttural growl ripped its way out of my throat. It was so feral, I barely recognized myself. The warmth covering my lap soon moistened, and my eyes rolled back into my head with the effort it took to stop myself from coming right then.

  Too much was out of my control. A part of me panicked at the thought. Grabbing her hips, I threw Emma off me and back onto the bed. Before she could finish her mewl of disappointment I covered her body with mine, kissing, sucking, licking, and nibbling at the flesh of her neck as she writhed against me, meeting my pace. The taste of her skin was intoxicating. Despite the generic hotel soap she’d used, I still tasted the vanilla of her skin under it.

  It reminded me of the vanilla beans I’d once had to scrape the innards out of for Master Violetta’s sacred tea. The beans smelled strong, sharp, and sweet, and begged to be tasted but I’d refrained then. Now, it felt like I was finally indulging in a sweetness long denied me, and it made me dizzy with desire.

  My hips ground rhythmically down on hers. Emma bit my neck to suppress her sensual sounds. Slowly, my hand slipped under her shirt and traveled up each rib, carefully approaching the naked flesh of her sensitive breast.

  The water turned off in the bathroom with a screech. I stopped cold, my fingers brushing the rising swell of her breast. Emma kept rubbing her body up against me, but I dismounted her in an instant.

  Propping herself up on her elbows, Emma looked up at me in confusion. Still panting, her hair tousled, her swollen lips beckoned me back. For the second time, I saw her nipples tight, straining against her shirt.

  My shoulders rose and fell in exaggerated movements as I tried to gain control over my breath and my body. I had to shut my eyes against the sight of her to do so.

  “Calan?” she started, but I held up a hand to stop her.

  As soon as the pleasure started, it froze and shattered inside me. What had I become? I was succumbing to greed, lust, and coveting Emma for myself.

  I owned nothing. Not even myself. I was turning away from the Light. How could I protect the Propheros, or Emma for that matter, if I couldn’t control my basic urges? No wonder I couldn’t wield my own magic. I was out of control.

  Opening my eyes, I saw the loss in Emma’s eyes and a new wave of guilt sliced through the first. She deserved better than me. I wasn’t whole. After this, I wondered if the gods would ever return my soul after causing pain to such an angel.

  “Calan, stop it.” Emma said clearly, after licking her lips. She sat up. “I know what you’re thinking and stop it right now.”

  Could she read my mind? No, she was just intuitive.

  “It can’t always be all about duty,” she said. “Stop beating yourself up.”

  “Emma, please.” My hands grasped at my head trying to control the barrage of conflicting thoughts and feelings. They crowded in around each other, shouting me down with demands and accusations.

  “I have to – I have to do a perimeter check.” Before she could say a word, I’d grabbed my coat and boots and was out the door, locking it behind me.

  The bite of cold air calmed my bare flesh, lowering my body temperature. I clutched the door frame, resting my forehead against the chilled wood, but it couldn’t erase what I knew was on the other side. My toes shifted against the sharp gravel. Every temptation the universe could conjure up was rolled into one beautiful girl who I could never have but could never forget the taste of now.

  I pushed off the door, threw my coat on over my bare back, pulled on my boots, then stalked away to secure the perimeter and remind myself of my duties.

  When I returned an hour later, Travis was passed out on top of the sheets, snoring like an elephant. Emma had succumbed to sleep, curled in a tight ball as if she needed to protect herself from the world even in slumber.

  She certainly needs protection against you.

  I swallowed hard and pushed the guilt down. Grabbing the mustard-colored chair by Emma’s bed, I noiselessly moved it across the room so I could easily watch both while keeping close to the door, should trouble come knocking.

  After taking off my boots, I planted my bare feet on the floor, squeezing the rough carpet under my toes to bring myself fully into the present. I held the broadsword between my legs, holding it at its hilt and straightened my back. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, deliberately.

  I didn’t dare sleep but I could use the time to rejuvenate myself with meditation.

  Here. Here.

  I silently acknowledged being here, in the present. I objectively observed my physical being. My calf still throbbed from where the piece of glass speared it yesterday. It was raw but clean since I’d showered. Tension squeezed between my shoulders and down my back. Simply observing the sensations caused my shoulders to drop several inches and the knots to unfurl a fraction.

  Thoughts interrupted each other with hows and whats and whens. How do I protect Emma and Travis? What will my Masters do with them? When will my magic return so that I could transport us to the Temple?

  A nasty thought slithered in like black tar, encircling the rest of them. What if my magic doesn’t return?

  “No,” I whispered, stopping the vile thought in its tracks. “You are Chevalier. You are granted magic so that you may defend the Light. It will return to you as easy as breath.” After that, I stepped out of the stream of my own thoughts, then watched them flow by like a river.

  Emma’s face, Emma’s touch, Emma’s taste whizzed by in the stream, each memory and thought beckoning me back into the rush, to swim in them. In tandem, the stream carried Emma’s screams, fear, and visions of her death at the hands of the soul eater, the Crib, or other dark forces. Each horror a result of my letting her down by giving in to my desire. I sat down by the river and watched it flow by, never reaching a finger out to touch the thoughts, so they continued rushing by.

  When I blinked my eyes open, resurfacing from my meditative state, the garish green numbers on the bedside clock flashed 4:06 a.m. Though I had not fallen asleep or fallen out of tune with every twitch and shift Travis and Emma made in their sleep, I arose refreshed. It was time for another walk about the perimeter, and soundlessly I slipped outside.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The clouds had rolled in, a blanket of darkness blocking all light from the waxing moon. The only sounds were of the swirling wind on the plains.

  The gravel of the motel parking lot crunched under my feet until I adjusted my stride to

  silence my steps. All the doors were shut and curtains drawn in the U-shaped block of accommodations. The only light emanated from the small office where the surly-faced owner watched a small television set with dull eyes awaiting any unlikely night-time tenants. I widened the loop around the motel into the tall brown grass. The snow had melted some during the day and frozen over again into crispy ice patches that crunched under my steps. The terrain was flat, allowing for greater field of vision. Even so, clouds darkened the land. My false parents could be hiding nearby, so I would cover every inch until I knew we were safe.

  The quiet soothed me. The cold earth smelled crisp and wild. The raging beast that pounded from the inside of my ribcage, begging for Emma, had reduced its fervor to dull thuds in my chest. I could fight this. I had returned to my center. Though I had never known such temptation before, I realized the gods were testing me. If I failed, Emma would surely be punished. I was already damned and knew I must keep her from me at all costs. The sooner I got her and Travis to my Masters, the better.

  Then maybe my Masters could better explain how a soul eater could have become flesh? How the Crib could have come to our plane? Why now?

  The Propheros.

  Master Ylang’s voice sprung to mind. As Chevalier, you must never assume. Any knowledge of consequence must be relayed to your Masters so that we may interpret and guide.

  Then I realized I had been mistaken in trying to interpret the circumstances, when it did not change my duties. I foug
ht the darkness in whatever form it presented itself. That is what Chevalier did. I was not to question the whys, I was only to act as a tool for the Light.

  Surprise leapt upon my heart as a flash of light warmed the palms of my hands. Instantly, I fell to my knees in observance of the miracle. My powers had returned. I could take us home. I closed my eyes, reveling in my return to grace. There was a sense of coming home as my powers wrapped themselves around my being once more.

  With a lighter heart now buoyed with hope, I finished my reconnaissance. Finding no sign of the agents from Temple Veritas, I began my descent from the slight rise in the land back toward the motel.

  The sky had lightened considerably, hailing the coming of dawn. As I walked to the parking lot, I spotted a family sluggishly lugging their bags to a silver mini-van. A sleepy girl about four years old rocked on her feet, eyelids drooping, as she clutched a stuffed bunny with only one button eye and a frayed ear. One of her ash-blonde pigtails was crooked. Her brother looked to be only a couple years older, with a bright green coat and limp blond hair falling into his eyes. His thumbs flew across a handheld device with a lit screen, while he leaned against the van. Their mother and father went about packing the vehicle. While I could not hear the words, their strained tones told me they were quarreling.

  My head snapped to the right as a red light drew my attention. A middle-aged, bald man leaned on the wall just outside his open motel door as he sucked on a cigarette, which lit up again before he exhaled generous smoke plumes. The dot of red light flared at the end of his cigarette. His abnormally bony limbs poked through his faded boxer shorts and tattered t-shirt. His eyes were glued to the little girl in a way that made my insides bristle with warning. Somebody called from inside the room causing his head to turn but he chose to ignore whoever it was.

  Faint smoke tendrils from the cigarette reached my sensitive nostrils with notes of tobacco and the heavy cling of intentional death. The world moved slowly for me now that I had retouched my inner powers and no detail went unnoticed. The chirp of the birds heralding dawn, the slamming of car doors, and the heavy smell of rotten eggs now hanging in the air.

  “Oh gods,” I breathed, breaking out into a run.

  The mother turned from the open trunk of the van to see me racing at her with wild eyes and my broadsword drawn. She let loose a piercing scream. It was so shrill I almost couldn’t hear the twin shriek that was not of this earth.

  “Emma, Travis,” I bellowed, knowing my shouts would resonate through the paper-thin motel walls. “Get up, get to the vehicle,”

  The four year old’s eyes had lost their heavy droop and now blinked up in awe at the cloud forming before her very eyes.

  “Run,” I yelled at her, but her little legs didn’t move.

  “Hank,” The mother cried out to her husband.

  Concern for the child narrowed my focus to only her until the door opened behind her. Emma came to stand in the doorway of our room. Her hair was disheveled from sleep but her shoes were on and her pack was slung over her shoulder. An ounce of relief swept through me.

  Smart girl.

  The dual points of focus distracted me from the third. Something hit me from the side with tremendous force. I went sliding several feet through the sharp gravel of the parking lot. The hand holding my sword was trapped at my side on the ground now. The fetid pants of morning breath puffed onto my face. The little girl’s father had tackled me to the ground.

  “Jeannie, call the police. Now,” He demanded, his bloodshot eyes fiercely fastened onto me.

  Looking back at his daughter, a strangled cry escaped my throat. The cloud’s swirling had increased with fervor.

  “Get off him,” Emma screamed.

  I tried to cry out to Emma, “The girl.” But she was running toward me.

  “Sophie?” I heard the little boy asked in a watery voice. His sister’s arms had stiffened at her sides, her eyes bugged from her head, and her mouth was open in a silent scream. The soul eater had locked onto her.

  I pushed against her father, but he slammed me back down. I was significantly stronger than this man, but he had me at a disadvantage of angle.

  “Stay down, you psychopath,” he said, spit spraying the side of my face.

  “Your daughter. I have to save her,” I insisted, wiggling my arm out from under my body.

  “Get off him,” Emma said. She grabbed the man’s hair, yanking him back. He yelped. It gave me just enough space to slide out from under him. He threw an arm out, smacking Emma back. Emma skittered back a few steps and fell back hard onto her rear with an oof.

  Before I could fully get to my feet, I knew I wouldn’t reach the girl in time. The soul eater would digest her soul, masticating it into shreds of what the victim felt to be lifetimes of endless torment until it was wholly destroyed. The agony and helplessness I felt at not being able to reach her in time nearly split me in half.

  She was going to die.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sophie was plucked from where she stood. Travis had torn out of the motel room when he’d seen the little girl entranced, grabbed her and hauled her away. He now raced in the opposite direction of her family to get her out of harm’s way.

  I heard Travis mutter a litany of emphatic, “No, no, no, no’s,” as he ran with Sophie.

  “Kid, get away from it,” I yelled to her brother. His head whipped up toward me, his green eyes wide under his limp bangs. Then he tore off, running back to his mother. She held a phone to her ear with a shaky hand. I finally allowed myself a sigh of relief when he’d gotten a good distance away.

  This time, I sensed the man before he tackled me again. I sidestepped him, sending him careening head over heels into the gravel. I couldn’t use my magic if he broke my concentration by attacking me.

  “Please, get in your vehicle and drive away with your family,” I begged.

  Several people had emerged from their rooms to see what the fuss was about. Panic welled up past my chest and into my throat.

  Hank stumbled as he tried to get up. The sharp rocks had torn the skin along the side of his face and blood now splotched the front of his plaid shirt, but it was all surface cuts. His burliness looked like it was built off fast food, but I remembered his weight had kept me down.

  With a guttural growl, Hank charged me again. His fatherly instincts to protect his daughter were all directed at me. He didn’t notice Emma sidle up, sticking her leg out tripping up his legs. Hank pitched forward, his face in the gravel once more. Emma skittered backward, her hand over her mouth.

  Grateful for a moment of concentration, I took the opportunity to whip around and fall to my knee. The sword dropped to the ground. It would do me no good against an incorporeal foe, but I knew how to fight it like this. My hands formed a triangle and I chanted quickly. Light generated between my hands.

  The soul eater fed on the attention of the growing crowd, drawing more people out into the open. Time was running out and there were too many distractions.

  The man who had been smoking the cigarette had stomped it out before striding into the parking lot where I was chanting. My palms warmed but I needed more time. Without a moonstone, I had no quick, easy way to amplify my powers and would have to draw it all from scratch. I needed to generate more power than I’d ever attempted before, and I still wasn’t sure it was going to be enough to hurt this abomination before it became solid again.

  “You want a fight, buddy?” The smoker grinned, his bald head giving him the appearance of a bare, grimacing skull. Though he was human, he seemed nearly demonic as he threw his fist down at me. I had to release my holy triangle, the heat of my energy immediately dissipating, to throw up a protective arm against the punch he aimed at my face.

  “Please,” I begged through gritted teeth. Sweat poured down my temples. Sulphur polluted the crisp morning air until it sizzled with violence. Distantly I heard the little girl sobbing and more people clomping down the stairs to help, unaware of the true danger.


  That was how the dark worked on earth. Possession and bodily entering this plane took a great amount of power which is rarely accomplished, so the Stygian primarily worked in influence and right now, it was amplifying and directing everyone’s fears at me.

  I got to my feet, punched the man in the jaw. He flopped to the ground like a rag doll. Another man rushed me, but I crouched down and let his momentum lead him straight onto my back. I bucked him off, flipping him over and slamming his body to the ground. Two more men came, and I threw punches to stave them off, putting both down.

  The bald smoker was clearly used to a hit and got back to his feet quicker than I anticipated. He came at me with a war cry. I landed another punch on his cheek, snapping his face to the side. Rather than falling, he spat out a tooth and kicked me in the gut.

  “What’s going on here?” The owner of the motel emerged, wearing a dull yellow shirt with brown slacks. He’d pulled what little hair he had around his temples back into a sparse ponytail. His face was stormy as he took in the scene around him.

  Only a few people nervously eyed the mysterious cloud hovering in the parking lot, the rest had their eyes fastened on me, mistaking me for the threat.

  “Yes,” the mother cried as she spoke into her phone. “He has a sword. A large one.”

  “You all must leave. Leave or die,” I yelled out in desperate warning. Instead of scattering, people shifted in their spots, uneasy.

  I grabbed the smoker before he could land his fist in my gut. I had to stop taking it easy on him or everyone would die because of the distraction he posed. I was afraid of hurting the civilians, but there was no more time. Spinning him around I brought his arm up behind him and with a resounding crack, I broke his arm and pulled it out of his socket in one move. It only took one kick behind his knee to get him to fall. Paralyzed by the pain, he could only groan and curse from where his face was nestled in the gravel.