Bianca De Lumière : High Suspense Urban Fantasy Romance (The Re'em Prophecy Book 1)

by Lisette Prendé

  I heard shouting, laughter—laughter I knew well. Sheena’s face floated into my mind.

  “Hey, Freak, we have a bet going. I reckon your blood is blue because you’re a freak, but Elise thinks it’s probably white like the rest of you.”

  A glimmer of light flickered from her hand as the sun caught the blade. Her wicked smile. “What do you say we find out, freak?”

  I’d felt his aura then. Not far off.

  As Elise held my arm and Sheena brought the knife towards me, I’d known he was there. Watching.

  “Please! Don’t,” I cried.

  But they’d just laughed.

  As the tip of the blade drew a tiny ball of red from my arm, he finally spoke. “That’s enough!”

  But he’d waited. Maybe to see if they’d really do it, or if I’d fight back. But perhaps to see if they were right.

  My limbs felt strong and tense. My feet stomped at the ground heavily. The whiteness that filled my eyes had faded. The image in front of me refocused: Mr. Eldritch, still pinned against the wall, the creature in front of him hissing wetly. But Eldritch’s eyes were wide, fixed on me.

  His mouth opened a fraction. “You’re a-a unicorn…I knew it,” he muttered, his bulging eyes filling with tears. “My father, his stories were real...I knew it.”

  The Skadhavar let out a guttural cry.

  Mr. Eldritch’s eyes darted back to the beast, then to me, pleading. I’m sorry, his eyes said. Please, help me.

  But I needed to hear it. I opened my mouth and released a wild whinny, stomping the floor.

  He held up his hands defensively. “Okay!” he shouted. It was hard to see who he was more afraid of; me or the snarling beast in front of him. “I’m sorry!”

  I neighed again. Louder.

  “I’m sorry I was so hard on you. That I let others pick on you. I-I thought your mother could have done better with me, okay? But she ended up with him, and then you. Such a strange child.”

  His revelation startled me. He’d had a thing for my mom? It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d known her. In a town like Pentacle, it’s almost impossible not to know everyone.

  “When I came back from boarding school in London,” he went on. “I assumed she’d let me sweep her off her feet. I was the most educated man in town. But then he came along. And you.”

  My mother had turned him down so he’d made me pay for it. What a jerk. I inhaled a tug of air and then released it quickly.

  “I am sorry. Miss—” he stopped himself. “Bianca. I am very sorry, Bianca.”

  The Skadhavar in front of him reeled back onto its hind legs, its transformation complete. It was time I took care of it.

  I threw my aura into the creature’s mind, quickly locating its hidden aura. The beast was down and flailing within seconds. I was getting the hang of this.

  I trotted toward the quivering beast, my eyes locked on Eldritch. I lifted my head, then brought it down with a thrust. There was a sticky thump as my horn plunged into the creature’s chest, finding its heart. I felt the blue of the aura that once owned this vessel. His young face floated through my mind and then went out like a light. I drew my horn out, the air cool against the hot, wet blood.

  I whipped my head in Eldritch’s direction. His face was locked in terror. For a short second I held his gaze. This is what I can do. This is who I am.

  I stood back from the dust and relaxed my body. All tension released as my limbs retracted. My hands floated from the floor and my back grew straight again. I looked down at my body, relieved to see the silver jumpsuit had reappeared; it really was magic.

  Mr. Eldritch sat pressed against the wall. Sweat poured off his forehead, and his shirt looked drenched. His bottom lip quivered. “What, what was that thing?”

  “That was a Skadhavar. And if I hadn’t been here to stop it from biting you, you’d be turning into one of them as we speak.”

  “You saved my life,” he said numbly. “I would have—”

  “You’re not so tough without your rifle are you?” I said, doing nothing to hide the sass in my tone. “What’s the point of calling yourself a hunter if you can’t even protect yourself when it counts?”

  “You stabbed it,” he went on, apparently oblivious to what I’d just said. “You stabbed it with your horn.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not for the faint of heart.” I locked my eyes on him. “Now you know what I am, Mr. Eldritch, and what I’m capable of.” I pressed my aura towards his, nudging the edges, offering images of the Skadhavar, the pain of the beings trapped within.

  He released a gasp, his eyes wide in disbelief.

  “Your father may have hunted magical creatures, but you will not,” I gave his aura a firm shove. “Is that clear?”

  He nodded vigorously, his breathing heavy and panicked.

  I turned to go.

  “Wait!” he managed. “What if there’s more of them?”

  “Oh there’s more of them, all right,” I said. “There’s probably at least fifty of those things outside right now, killing or turning the whole town.”

  “F-fifty?” he stammered.

  “I have help outside. Hopefully, they’ve managed to keep the students safe.”

  “More like you? More…”

  “Not quite like me, but yes.”

  He blinked, taking it all in.

  “I think you should get out there don’t you? As the principal.”

  He bit his lip. “Safer to stay here isn’t it?”

  “Go!” I shouted. “Help! Do your job!”

  Mr. Eldritch jumped to his feet and wandered towards the door, smoothing his crumpled toupee back onto his head.

  “And by the way,” I called to his back.

  He stopped, looking hopeful I’d let him stay inside and hide.

  “My mother never would have dated you,” I said. “You kill animals for fun. And you’re an asshole.”

  He pushed out the fire door, into the scream-filled night.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I scanned the room for any other aura but sensed none. What was she waiting for?

  “Well, here I am! Come and get me!” I called into the empty room. Streamers swung in the breeze from the air conditioning unit. The disco ball reflected tiny beads of light around the room. Outside: Screams. Cries. Screeching wails.

  I should be out there. Every second I stood there waiting could be better spent outside, killing Skadhavar. I had no idea how many Skadhavar were out there, or how many people they’d managed to turn. All I knew was that in order to save them, save the town, the state, the world from the Skadhavar, I needed to kill her. If she died, they all died. At least that’s what I was counting on.

  A presence pressed against my aura, so cold and vile the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I drew my dagger from my suit and held it in front of me. Where was she?

  A shadow flickered across the room. I looked up in time to see a dark form fly above me and land in the center of the dance floor.

  It was larger than other Skadhavar. Its flesh not rotting like the smaller beasts; a sparse dusting of dark hair peeked out from beneath a satin cloak.

  “We meet at last, Re’em!” The Master rocked back onto her hind legs, standing even taller. Large yellow teeth filled her narrow mouth. “Let me slip into something more comfortable.”

  The cloak fell to the floor as the Master stretched her arms upward. Her flesh fell away. Her limbs melted into long vine-like tendrils, wrapping and twisting. Bone and sinew took shape. Breasts, ribs, a human face, long dark hair. A woman-like figure stood before me. Naked. Shining like wet tar under the prom lights. A dark, soulless aura hung around her like smog.

  Her mouth stretched wide in a wicked smile. “Now you see me Re’em,” she said, her lips forming the words this time. Her voice was oddly human. Ri
ch and feminine. “And now I see you.” She snorted. “Is this it? The great one who is meant to save the world. The unicorn who would be queen?” She threw her head back and laughed. “This is merely a child who has spent too long in this meek and simple world. Practically a human! That oracle mustn’t have polished her crystal!” she said, locking eyes on me. “There is no way you will even survive the night, let alone destroy me.”

  She lifted a hand.

  Pain ripped through my head, pressing against my temples. Cold. Nothingness. Despair. I held my face rigid, trying to fight against the pain. I wouldn’t let her win.

  She smiled, then closed her hand into a fist.

  I let out a cry as the cold cut through my aura. Black wisps danced across my eyes. Dark fingers of nothingness clawed into my light. I tightened my hand around my dagger as I tried to fight the chilly darkness. I took a breath, summoning the strength to throw my aura into hers.

  Images tracked through my mind as the cold continued to bear down on me: Caleb’s handsome face, smiling widely. The image flickered and changed. His face now pallid, eyes bloodshot. Black venom dripped from his mouth.

  “No!” I screamed.

  A green field. Sunder galloped towards me. In a blink, the green field had grown dark with decay. In Sunder’s place, a Skadhavar.

  “Stop!” I called out.

  A loud cackle filled my ears. “You give up so soon, Re’em?”

  Focus, Bianca. Steady your mind.

  Another image jumped into the frame. Even more lucid.

  My father stood looking straight towards me. He was tall and lean like me. His face set in a large grin. In his arms, he clutched a blanketed bundle. A tiny pale baby. He looked down at the baby and shook his head. The smile faded from his face. “No,” he said. “I never wanted this.” He placed the baby on the ground. The blankets slipped off as the tiny child kicked its pale legs and started to cry.

  My throat felt like ice. Pick her up!

  But he had already started to walk away, leaving the baby alone in the forest.

  I fell to the floor, gulping in air as tears dripped from my chin. It wasn’t real. My father had not left me. Not like that. I knew that now. But for many years that’s what I’d thought; that he’d left because of me. Every time my mom’s aura filled with sadness and longing, I’d felt responsible.

  “This is going to be even easier than I thought.” The master laughed.

  I got to my feet, wiping tears from my face. “That wasn’t real.”

  She smirked. “It felt real though, did it not?”

  “I’m going to kill you, Skadhavar!” I spat.

  “I prefer the term Master. Or Your Majesty, or better yet, Dark Queen Ebonine.”

  This time I laughed. Her aura grew rigid as I threw my head back and chuckled. “Please! You can call yourself anything you like, but when it comes down to it, you’re just a disgusting monster.” I smiled callously. “Ever heard the saying You can’t polish a turd? Well, you’re the turd.”

  A cold slice of pain cut through my mind and I was back on the floor, shuddering.

  “That’s better,” she cooed. “Bow to your queen. When I kill you and drink your silver,” she began, pacing in front of me, “I will become the most powerful witch in all of the realms. I will have enough strength to regain my true form. I will conquer this world and then all of the others.”

  “Why?” I gasped, still recovering from the icy blow she’d dealt to my aura.

  “Why? Because I can. Because they all doubted me. The oracle said I was wicked and should be banished to the dark realm. She said I was a worthless witch. That a light one would be queen. Not me, not little Ebonine!”

  She held out a dark, bony finger. “‘Not strong enough!’ she said.” Her voice was shrill, mocking. “‘Not enough magic in her aura!’” She was shaking, rage spilling out of her. “Ha! Well, I showed her! Look at me now! I have my own army! I’ve penetrated the human realm! She didn’t predict that did she?” She chuckled. “But here I am, Re’em. Here to end you. The one who would be queen, you with your centaur lover to whom you are betrothed. What a joke. There is no destiny but what we make ourselves!”

  My centaur lover? Betrothed? Who was this oracle? Questions burned inside me.

  I pushed them aside, getting to my feet once again, my dagger still clutched in my hand. It seemed ridiculous; such a small weapon in the face of the Master. Doubt filled my heart. Could I really do this? Could I actually defeat her and end this?

  I stood tall, grounding myself. I drew a breath and pushed it out and upward, feeling it flow above my head into my horn. My skin prickled with energy, but I willed myself to remain human; I needed all of the power in my aura to penetrate hers.

  With a deep thrust, I threw my aura out. It hit with a thud against hers, bouncing backward.

  “Nice try, Re’em!” the Master smirked.

  Her sickly, hollow aura was armored in a dark silky shell, like a cockroach—or a dung beetle. I took a breath and pushed out again with more force. My eyes burned white, my body hummed with energy. The sound of resonating crystal filled my head. She pushed against me, her aura resisting my force. But slowly her shell gave way, my light burning through it.

  “No, no, no,” she muttered.

  But I was already inside her aura, flying through her black, cloudy mind.

  I landed with a thud on an old cobbled street. Small children dressed in rags lined the sides of the road. Horses pulled carts through the crossroads ahead. The smell of sewage and decay filled my senses. I got to my feet. A cold heaviness pressed down on my shoulders. Where was this place? My eyes darted to a sign above the shabby brick building behind the children: Jean Cotter’s Home for Orphaned Children.

  I pushed through a rickety doorway into a room filled with even more children. A young girl with jet black hair sat on a messy bed, her face so stern it caught my eye. She stared at a girl across the room with long blonde pigtails.

  Pigtails stood dead still, her face expressionless. She held out a fist, then brought it quickly to her face. Again and again, she punched herself while the dark-haired girl looked on wearing a gleeful sneer.

  “Ebonine!” came a loud bellow. A large woman sidled into the room. “You cut that out this instant, you hear me?”

  “I wasn’t doing nothing.”

  “She did it again, Miss Cotter!” Pigtails cried, broken from her trance. Her face red and swollen where the blows had landed. “She’s wicked, she is.”

  “Liar!” Ebonine screamed.

  “That’s it, Ebonine,” Miss Cotter replied, cocking a hip. “You done it now! You’re in the dark room!”

  “No, Miss!”

  “One night should sort you out. Go on, get ya pillow.”

  “But there are things in there. Bugs, spiders.”

  “Well, you shoulda thought about that, aye?” She crossed her arms. “Before you decided to curse someone.”

  Ebonine released a guttural growl. The room around us melted away. A fierce breeze blew in, ripping the stale sheets from the beds. They flew through the air, then up and away, above the trees that now towered overhead.

  Below the leafy branches, Ebonine sat. Alone. Her back against a tree trunk. Tear tracks lined her face, her arms smeared with dirt and blood. I could feel the chill in the air, the pain in her heart. Her aura clung to her shoulders, trying to comfort her with its bright purple wisps. But she was all alone in this dark and brooding wood.

  “Ebonine,” came a hissing murmur from the nearby brook. “We can help you, Ebonine.”

  She wiped her eyes and looked down the brook. It trailed into the heart of the woods. Into the dark part, where only dead things dwelt. She’d been told never to go there.

  “You’re all alone, Ebonine,” it cooed. “They cast you out. But we are here. Come to us.”

  She
got to her feet and paced toward the sound.

  “No!” I called to her. “Don’t go.” But she didn’t respond.

  Her aura clung to the tree behind her, pulling, willing her back. Stay, it begged her. But she shook it off.

  She walked further, following the thick and murky water.

  “You will do great things,” the voice went on. “Wicked. But great.”

  Slowly, Ebonine disappeared into the trees, her tiny frame swallowed by the darkness.

  I steadied my heart, willing it to stay strong in the face of such misery. The pain of an unloved, unwanted child. Different. Outcast by her own kind. I could relate to her sadness. But I could not let that stop me. Breathe, I told myself. Just breathe.

  Across the brook, an image appeared. Ebonine, older now. Her face narrow, angular. Dark hair trailed down her back. She stood tall over a large cauldron, reciting an incantation in an unfamiliar language.

  “Carpe lucem. Carpe anima mea. Fac quod exercitum ex pura malum.”

  She held her hands high as her voice grew louder, her face crumpled in pain. Dark blood trailed down her arms.

  Carpe lucem! Carpe anima mea! Fac quod exercitum ex pura malum!

  Between her hands, her vibrant purple aura bloomed.

  “CARPE LUCEM! CARPE ANIMA MEA! FAC QUOD EXERCITUM EX PURA MALUM!

  She released a scream as she threw her aura into the cauldron. It hissed and wailed in pain as the soul was extracted. Flames rose up. Figures leaped from the fire. The smoky forms of Skadhavar bounded across the brook. A sticky cloud of dull, indigo smoke inched its way out of the cauldron and returned to its owner; a dark, soulless version of itself.

  The wail of Ebonine’s aura still filled my ears. It crooned in pitch so sad that tears prickled my eyes.

  I inhaled deeply, absorbing all the pain of the indigo aura. I filled my belly with fire, hot and tense. Energy rose from my head, from my palms. Then I pushed. I pushed it all towards her. The wailing in my ears grew louder as I fired hundreds of years of agony toward her in one instant.