Entasy (Prophecies of The Nine) (4 page)
"I do trust you, Kylah, and I don’t have anyone following you." He walked around the bar and grabbed a hold of my shoulders. "What does this person look like, and when did you first see him?"
My anger quickly melted into fear. "You really didn’t send anyone, Dillon?" I searched my mind for more details and a shiver ran through me. "Oh God, he was in the elevator this morning when I left for work."
Confusion overwhelmed me; I wondered how long this man had been following me. How long had I been oblivious to my surroundings? I looked into Dillon’s eyes. "He knows where we live. He could find me anytime, couldn’t he?" My resolve was shattering. "I don’t want to be home unless you’re there."
Dillon calmly asked Adaira to hand him a pencil and a legal pad from under the bar. When Dillon handed it to me, he grinned wide. "Show me what he looked like. Remind me why I spent all that money on art classes."
"Smartass." I thanked Adaira for the pencil and began to sketch the man’s shaved head, his chiseled features, and his unforgettable eyes. The tattoos that covered his face and neck were made up of symbols and intricate swirls. They connected to one another as if they were telling a story. When I finished the sketch, I slid the tablet over to Dillon. He glanced at Adaira.
"Have Syd meet me in my office." Dillon grabbed my bag and took my hand to help me off the barstool.
"I’m taking you upstairs to the office, Kylah; you can rest there until it’s time to go home, and I want you to call in sick to work. You have a virulent case of the flu and you won’t be in for a few days."
The look Dillon gave me spoke volumes. I could protest, but it would have only ended in a battle of wills. Besides, I was too afraid to be alone right now, so I didn’t bother doing anything but agree. "Any chance you’ve heard from Ty and Vivi about when they’re getting home?"
"Ty called and said that he and Vivi are going to visit some friends and then spend their last night at Nana’s." He looked up with a smile. "Come on now, you had to know Nana would be expecting a visit from them since they were in Ireland."
I smiled and rifled through my bag, trying to find my phone. "This is true. I wish I could see Nana. I know with everything I’ve been going through lately I could really use her comfort right now."
"What are you not telling me, Kylah?"
My words came out in a stuttering mess. "I…I have been having some bad dreams, Dillon. It’s no big deal. I just need to get some rest is all."
The elevator ride to the third floor was a quiet one after my last comment. I knew I teased him a lot about how overprotective he always was, but in times like these, I was grateful he made sure we all stayed together. I reached over and grabbed my brother’s hand and smiled when he squeezed mine in response.
"Everything is going to be fine, Kylah. I won’t let anything happen to you."
"I know, Dillon…I know."
I flipped through the contact list on my cell and hastily sent a text to my boss about my sudden case of the flu. The doors of the elevator opened to the office, and Dillon quickly stepped out. He headed straight for his desk, intent on finding something. He slammed the drawer shut and slid something into the back of his pants.
Dillon glared at me. "We’ll talk about this later. Right now I have to take care of the man who is following you, but this conversation is not over." He grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and motioned for me to come lay down. "I want you to rest, Kylah. I won’t be gone long, and you are safe here. You know no one but family may enter this floor. "Besides," he said with a wink, "I would like to see anyone get past Adaira. You know her temper."
As Dillon shut the door behind him, I knew he was right. I would be safe here until he returned.
Needing a cup of chamomile tea, I headed for the bistro kitchen and smiled as I passed by the chalkboard wall that still had the dirty joke Ty had written before he and Vivi left for Ireland. I missed them both so much, and wished they were coming home as scheduled. I was close to both of my brothers, but Tynan and I always seemed to be closer for some unknown reason.
The tea kettle began to whistle as I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie out of the cookie jar. I poured the boiling water into the cup and couldn’t help but think of Mom. This had been her nightly ritual: a warm cup of tea and a good book. Tonight though, I was only going to partake in the tea; I was way too tired for the book. I settled onto the couch and pulled the blanket to my chin as sleep began to claim me. Hopefully tonight my dreams would be peaceful for once.
The last time I set foot in New York City, Theodore Roosevelt had just returned from a fifteen month tour abroad, and Frank Woolworth had just begun construction on his new skyscraper. The skyline was much different these days and there were way too many people in this city for my taste. I preferred my secluded home in Donegal, Ireland, where it was quiet and tranquil. Lately though, the tranquil times were few and far between. Nowadays, I spent most of my nights fighting to save our race.
We were back in New York for an extended stay. A new threat had surfaced that had turned Morrigan’s normal dialogue into daily revenge filled tirades. Since we arrived last night, she had been barking unusual commands to her maidens. No one would ever dare blame the goddess or correct her without fear of reprisal. She had suffered much since the tragic death of her daughter, Caolainn, and her granddaughter, Aednat. The loss of the girls left the goddess temperamental, and her anger had yet to subside after all this time. She sought retribution and had refused to give in to the notion that this was all part of the life cycle. We were immortal; we were to live forever, but the leader of the Sluagh had found a way to destroy all that. The plan, however, had one major flaw. He had pissed off a war goddess, and she would not rest until she enacted her revenge.
I served Morrigan, the Goddess of war, and Brighid, the Goddess of Fire. They were not only my goddesses, but also my creators. I was not born, but made with the sole purpose of handling any threat the goddesses chose not to dirty their hands with. I was known by many names, but enforcer was my actual title. When the goddesses commanded it, I was compelled to follow. I used to fight because I was bound to do so, but now I fought to sate my lust for revenge. The one I wanted most in this world was taken from me centuries ago. Her life extinguished by the Sluagh. Now all had to pay for the deeds of a few rogue demons that believed they could capture a goddess and live to tell the tale.
I nodded to the barkeep at McSorley's to pour another round as I felt the phone Obsydian had forced on me begin to vibrate. The text read, "The ninth has arrived. Meet at the penthouse at midnight."
A millennium ago, the goddesses organized an elite group of warriors called the Naio. The nine were made up of various supernatural forces–each one with a specific skill-set that made us the perfect fighters. It wasn’t often we were organized together like this; we each had our own faction of fighters that kept watch over unsuspecting humans.
Slipping the phone back into my jacket, I looked into the mirror above the bar and spotted a beautiful woman with long black hair sitting at a table, drinking with her friends. She brushed the hair off her neck and laughed as she took another sip of her cocktail. The female must have noticed me staring at her because she returned the glance. Her jade green eyes sent a jolt of lust straight through me, causing my jeans to tighten. For a brief moment, I had a flash of my beloved as the woman tipped her glass in my direction. I took the last pull on my ale and paid the bar tab. When I strolled past the table, I winked at the raven-haired beauty, which sent the rest of the women with her into a giggle fest. It had been a long time since I had taken a female to my bed, and if duty wasn’t calling, it might have been nice to take her into the back room to sate both our desires. But truth be told, there was only one woman that would ever be able to sate my needs, and she was long gone into the fade.
I shook off the stroll down memory lane and headed out of the bar and into the night. I needed to focus on the days ahead. As dusk began to settle in, I walked down the crowded streets, taking in the city. Maybe I would get in a few kills before having to check in with the Naio. Obsydian and Calina had been here for the past few weeks tracking the fledgling Sluagh, following their habits and patterns. It seemed as though Liam, the leader of these soul devourers, had given an order to increase their numbers here because the city was now overrun with them.
Even in the daylight, I could spot these creatures roaming around, waiting in the shadows for someone to die so they could feed. The sun began to fall behind the buildings as I made my way out of the east village, grinning wickedly as I awaited my first unsuspecting newcomer. The Sluagh did not usually attempt to feed in broad daylight. They shared their affection for the dark with their vampire counterparts. Vampires at least gave their victims knowledge of their intent through sexual desire, but the Sluagh were like hyenas feeding off what others discarded.
I faded into the alley and saw a woman standing there shaking, her bakery box of cupcakes splattered on the ground in front of her. There was something unique about this woman, because in order to see the Sluagh, you must have supernatural blood coursing through your veins. I remained cloaked as I watched her looking towards the back of the alley in horror as the Sluagh mangled a fresh corpse. To the people ambling by, they would have seen a woman frustrated over spilled bakery items, but as an immortal, I could see it all. The horror before her was unimaginable, but for us it was an everyday battle the coven of Naoi fought to control.
The Sluagh preferred to feed off the souls of the innocent, but they also devoured the souls of the wicked. The carnage from this mugging would feed the entire pack. The two human males who had silenced the man by slicing his throat would also become a part of this tragedy. The other fledgling Sluagh had gone to track them down while three devourers moved in to greedily feed as the young man’s life force left his body. The Sluagh never wasted any time claiming an innocent soul.
Depending on who the Sluagh consumed, they would get a different high. The malevolent souls would give them a slight jolt, but the souls of the innocents were their perfect conquest. The chaste souls allowed the Sluagh to become corporeal for short periods of time: enough time for them to find their next victim. Enough time to wreak havoc on unsuspecting humans. As the red-haired female watched, it was obvious she could not process what was happening. It was as though she had never seen anything magical; her fear had her locked in place, unable to move.
In her reality, humans didn’t "feed" off of other humans, but the Sluagh were not human. They were demons and ghosts that haunt and invade. They were your darkest fears. The nightmarish creatures were a part of folklore passed down from generation to generation. The Sluagh were in essence rejected by heaven and hell, existing in the human realm only to consume souls. Humans were blinded by the magic that existed in the world. They assumed fairytales were just someone’s wild imagination, creative tales told to delight and frighten children. It was this lack of acknowledgement that made humans the perfect prey for these outcasts.
In their ghost forms, they were a hideous ash grey with claw-like fingers and beady eyes. They were shifters that could change form constantly to be whatever suited their needs. They were half-man, half-winged creatures with talons and crimson colored eyes. They came in all shapes and sizes, but the one trait they all had in common was the single focus of consuming souls for their own purposes.
As the woman looked on, silently frozen in shock, she made a move to back away, but the shale-colored male noticed the movement and stopped, grinning as if he had just found the dessert to his entree. The elder of the group grabbed the grey male and spoke to him in broken Gaelic. He explained that they needed to take this one back for their father or they would be punished for taking too many souls. I could only assume they were speaking of Liam.
Liam had always been a ruthless battle lord, even before he became the leader of the Sluagh. We were uncertain as to why Liam had recently relocated his legion here to New York City. All we knew for sure was that he had sent his finest warriors here to organize the new recruits.
The woman screamed as she turned to run away, but out of the misty haze the three males become solid, surrounding her, scratching and clawing at her almost immediately to subdue her. Appearing in front of her, I blocked the next lash from the ashen male and grinned, knowing that victory was mine. "You really should play with someone your own size, you know."