Billow (39 page)

Blood greedily pushed its way in. Veins rose against pale skin. It wriggled, burrowing its way up his cheeks, his eyes. It crawled through his arms to the tips of his fingers.

It ate away his mortal blood. Consumed it like a black mudslide destroying a town as if it never existed in the first place.

His eyes remained locked on mine, an endless scream reflected in their depths.

They begged me to do something. Help him. Save him.

Boyish features alternated with another I used to know. Grey eyes shifted to smoky grey eyes lit up with humor.

Ryder. Nick. Images and memories layered, tumbling without restraint.

My mother. Marcella. Gabe. Chloe.

One on top of the other.

My mind fissured. The past, the present, pain, fear, grief, hate all blending into a dark fog that swallowed me.

Always too late…

Numbness expanded. The fog consumed.

Eyelids fluttered.

"You can't handle this much power, can you?" Callan's voice crept through. "This much beauty. You're not as strong as you think,
sondaleur
."

No
.

I wasn't going to look away. I would remember.

It was all I could do.

And so I forced myself.

Watched as the horror continued. As the black blood made its way through his entire body. As his eyes went from terror to blankness.

Twined tentacles finally pulled out of his neck and the discolored sheen of the newly made Origin mark glistened against his skin.

Pulsating with satiation, the blood wound its way back into the Aquidae's palm. The cut sizzled and skin knitted together.

Nick's eyes were closed. He looked the same on the outside. But he wasn't. Now he was something that had to be killed.

I'd failed again.

The darkness devoured me whole.

Callan wiped the blade on his shirt and returned it to the altar.

"He's free, now. Your little friend there will wake up in a bit. To an entirely new life. A better one."

He stepped in front of me and lowered his face.

"You just witnessed a glorious, beautiful thing." Mouth contorted into a snarl. "You should feel lucky."

A thirteen-year-old boy scared out of his mind. A human who wasn't even a part of this war.

How could I be the
sondaleur
when I couldn't stop it?

Eyes wandered, wanting to look anywhere except the still body on the altar.

There was only pain and death. No matter where I turned. No matter what I did.

I focused on the cage.

Marcella's students. Haverleau's children.

They'd seen all of it. And soon, they'd be changed too.

Like Nick. Like that girl, Gina, back at the warehouse last spring.

I'd have to kill all of them.

And it'd never be enough. Because the Shadow would find more to turn. More children, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters I'd have to kill.

Gabe was right.

I was the monster. I was the abnormality.

The crying children huddled near the back. I was no longer sure who they were afraid of. The Aquidae or me.

One girl didn't hide or cower like the rest. She came forward and gripped the bars with small hands.

Messy curls of mahogany hair framed her face. Light blue eyes were wide, but not with fear.

She stared at me.

And like the faintest of memories, I remembered something.

A flash of lime-green and spark of dark blue. The delicate petal of an iris blossom and the endless depth of dark eyes.

It was tentative and slow at first.

It spread across her mouth, lifted her cheeks, and reached into her eyes.

My breath caught.

The smile shone pure and radiant.

In the middle of blood and death, a seven-year-old did something shocking.

And it jolted through me with the same power as Jourdain's magic.

You're so much more than that.

Against the monstrous act Callan called beautiful, it was a reminder.

Of what was true. What was real.

The fog in my mind thinned.

Like the darkness I'd clawed through in my dream, there was a weakness. A point where I could reach beyond it.

I drank in that smile. Everything it said and hoped and dreamed and wanted.

Sank into it the same way I allowed water to envelop me in its embrace and carry me to Jourdain.

And the further I pulled it in, the more I pushed through the cloud.

It was about a great-grandmother raising a boy with a Virtue because she understood when others could not. A mother who lost two sons and did everything to bring one back. A little girl carefully putting Band-Aids on the painful scrapes of a little boy.

Not get them. Marcella asked me to get them
back
.

Not inflict horror. Bring them back from horror.

Not revenge. Protect.

An energy sparked, quivering and building in resonance from a place I thought I didn't have any more.

A part that still remained free, undefined by a prophecy. The tiniest fractured part of myself that wasn't touched by anything else than who I was.

I couldn't save everyone.

But maybe I could still protect what was contained in that smile.

A warm filament of energy weaved through me.

My mouth curved.

"What's this?" Callan taunted. "Have we finally broken the darling
sondaleur
?"

Diabolic laughter cut like talons. But my eyes remained on her.

More threads joined, lacing into the composition at my essence.

"Have we finally…" He abruptly stopped. "Your aura."

The rich flow of magic sang through every cell in my body.

I turned away from the children. Calm clarity sharpened everything.

Jangle of keys from the Aquidae's pocket.

Rusted texture against my back. Cold metal shackles rubbing my wrist.

Glint of my dagger on the floor five feet away. The two feet that separated me from Callan.

The Aquidae definitely didn't underestimate me.

But they'd underestimated my friends.

THIRTY-ONE

An explosion of sound rocketed through the factory. Gardinels and chevaliers stormed in on a tidal wave of energy and carnage flared to life.

Sharp focus constrained the power of my Virtue. Selkies were everywhere.

Fingers wrapped around the chain above my shackles. I pulled my legs up. Abdomen crunched.

Feet struck Callan's chest in a swift front kick and he flew off the stage into the sea of battling Aquidae.

Another came from the left, but I was already in motion.

Body swung. Right leg ricocheted up and smashed its cheekbone.

Staggering, it landed in the waiting arms of Julian.

"Got yourself in a little bind there, sweet iris." He slashed under its jaw and pulled back its head. "Gives me a few new fantasies."

Only he could find sexiness in the situation. "Just shut up and help, LeVeq."

Kouperet
blazed golden and he staked the Origin with perfect precision. He grabbed the keys from its pocket and tossed them to me.

I leaped and snatched them out of the air. "Behind you."

He snapped around. Foot arced in a solid roundhouse kick that caught the barreling Aquidae in the stomach.

"Under the altar." I worked on freeing my hand. "We need to secure that blade."

The Aquidae's fist flew. Julian ducked and rolled across the floor. With one fluid movement, he snagged the ceremonial dagger and whipped away from the foot coming down on his ribs.

He continued to engage and disappeared into the pandemonium.

Come on.

Left hand freed.

Bulky form hurtled from the right.

I sprang up the machinery behind me on light feet.

Vaulting off the surface, momentum drove my free hand and leg forward. Fist impacted against skull and foot hammered its thigh. A passing chevalier staked it.

I freed my other hand and landed. Wrists were raw and bloody. Shoulders throbbed.

But only one thing was on my mind.

A flash of gaping demonic mouth. Body spiraled in reverse. Heel lashed out in a high back kick against its face. Rotating, I reached and grabbed my dagger off the floor.

Silver blade brightened with Essence. In one smooth motion, I circled.

Arm slanted up, razor edge carving into its throat. I transferred the dagger to my other hand and pierced its Origin.

It dropped, blood splashing my feet.

Walls shook with the screams and howls of battle. Bodies flew, crashing against metal and concrete. The stench of sweat and blood saturated the air.

Gardinels and chevaliers contained the Aquidae in the center of the floor and blocked off every exit. A ring of five gardinels protected the two chevaliers breaking open the children's cage.

A roar tore through the havoc. It was a sound of fury. Of power.

The cry of battle.

Garreth stood in the middle of the factory with no
kouperet
. The dark amethyst of his
pedaillon
shone like a flaming jewel. Chest and arm muscles rippled and he looked every bit like his family name.

Pure animal rage carved into every line of him. An Aquidae charged. With a twist of his hands, Garreth decapitated it in a surge of primal power. He moved on to another. Each time he used his body to end those who'd taken his brother.

Several selkies set up a perimeter and let their Chief Gardinel mourn.

Eyes fell on Nick and I slowly walked over to him. His face was calm. Peaceful.

I knew what I had to do. Everything else faded.

Eyelids quivered. I waited.

Grey eyes opened and met mine. For one moment, I thought it was him.

But then a cold violence hardened his face and lips peeled back in a snarl.

My dagger slid into the newly made Origin before he could utter a sound.

I wanted him to stay there as if he were still sleeping. Ignorant of the nightmare, unknowing of what he'd become.

"I'm sorry," I whispered and I wasn't sure who I was saying it to.

Ryder. Nick. His mother. Marcella. Maybe to myself.

I took a deep breath and everything snapped back.

Sounds. Sights. Smells.

Northeast corner.

Two chevaliers valiantly tried to hold off Callan and four Aquidae in front of an iron door.

Feet pounded and I leaped off the stage.

Callan bent one of the chevaliers in an unnatural position over a steel pipe. Spinal bone snapped.

Another Aquidae grabbed the other and tossed him as if he weighed nothing. The chevalier hit a pillar several feet away.

He didn't get back up.

Callan and his team went through the door.

Virtue latched on to those five empty voids. Mind flipped through factory blueprints. Behind it was a set of access stairs that bypassed the other two floors and went straight to the basement.

No windows or other exits. No escape.

I tore past strewn bodies and slid across blood-smeared floor. Through the door and down two flights of stairs.

Voids suddenly blinked out. Light coming from the bottom of the stairwell disappeared.

I froze.

They were using nix blood to hide. And turning off the power made it more difficult to search.

Eyes narrowed and I remained on the landing above the darkened entrance. The jarring clank of shut valves was louder here.

I blocked out the grating sound and concentrated. The basement was an expansive area, about half the size of the auction floor. Main power switch was located on the eastern wall furthest from the door.

No windows meant no moonlight. If I went in there, the only illumination would come from this stairwell. I'd have to get to the power switch before I could find them.

Callan and his team knew how to remain undetected. No wonder they were the Shadow's elite group.

My hands tightened. It was a chance I had to take.

A sudden movement came from behind. I whirled, dagger ready.

Tristan stood a few steps above the landing. His
kouperet
glowed, white shirt stained black.

He assessed the blood covering me and relief flickered across his face. "What are you doing here?"

I nodded toward the entrance. "Callan and a few others are hiding. They used nix blood so I can't sense them."

"We found the rest of the kidnapped victims on the second level." His posture was alert, poised. "We have to get you out."

"No."

He moved down a step. "Valves are shut. Pressure's building. You have to go."

"I'm staying. Go and get the others. You might get hurt with my Virtue."

He stepped on to the landing.

"You fulfilled your part of the plan. Why are you fighting?"

The question was more than just this.

More than an ondine wanting to become a chevalier. More than taking out as many Aquidae as possible. More than surviving to fulfill a prophecy.

The question was about me. And I now knew the answer to why.

"For the same reason you're here even though you're no longer gardinel." My tone was steady. "The same reason I'd be here even if I wasn't the
sondaleur
."

He stepped closer.

Disheveled silky hair was wild. A lock hung forward, brushing against his cheekbone. Spatters of dried blood sharply contrasted with golden skin.

Fierce and beautiful, he was every inch the Warrior Prince.

The atmosphere shifted and his power wrapped around me like a live wire.

"You and I don't get to choose the value of our names or titles," I began.

There was the slightest hurt. The tiniest vulnerability with that statement.

I tilted my chin, voice strengthening. "But we choose their worth."

His eyes darkened, igniting with something I thought I'd never see again. It was those eyes that always brought me back. Even as we stood, stained and surrounded by violence.