by T. G. Ayer
Mayhem.
That was the only word I could use to describe our living room over the next hour. The Elite team had arrived to deliver Raulfir, only to hear the gunshot and come rushing inside.
A part of me registered they’d broken through the magical wards—that shouldn’t have happened.
When excruciating pain bloomed in my side, I looked down stunned as I watched blood stain my shirt. I’d been hit but I didn’t care.
I’d been so wrong about Erik.
“Erik is the one who tortured me,” Silvanya had whispered in my ear, “I was too afraid of him to tell you.”
Had he been innocent, he wouldn’t have understood the reason for my shocked expression. Nor would he have decided to shoot us in response.
“I’m so fucking over being betrayed.”
I flinched as my words rang around the silent bedroom. I glanced at Steph snoring softly on the bed beside me. She’d insisted on keeping me company just in case and I wondered who needed the comfort more— her or me.
Raulfir and Silvanya had taken their leave. Erik’s body had been taken away. And a crime scene cleanup tech had taken care of the bloodstains on mom’s old carpet.
Carter had come by to check up on me, and Steph had called to give Natasha an update.
Now the room echoed with silence.
Accusatory silence.
Chapter 40
Inhaling harshly, I slid from the bed careful not to wake Steph. I tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, going through the motions of making tea.
Boil water, pour, steep, milk, sugar.
When I finally sipped it, I discovered I’d forgotten the teabag altogether.
I set the mug of milky water on the table and studied my phone. No call from Saleem.
Which reminded me I’d had no success with Samuel. And I had to tell Darius what had happened.
I grabbed my phone and placed a call to the ancient, giving him a brief update on everything that had happened including Erik’s betrayal. I didn’t talk about a certain god who’d laughed as he’d trampled our hearts.
Darius studied me for a moment, his eyes flicking to my arm. “Have the wards functioned in protecting you until the spirit is removed?”
I nodded and gave him a reassuring smile, but my voice would have clearly revealed my uncertainty. “It’s been better. But I suspect I’d need time to recover so I’m strong enough.”
“Have you tried to look for Samuel again?”
I shook my head. “There’s been a lot going on, and my power for such an extensive tracking isn’t strong enough. Not yet.”
He nodded, his expression serious and worried. “I hope you don’t do anything rash.”
I frowned. “Regarding what?” I asked, already suspecting we’d moved on to another sore topic.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He nodded, his expression inscrutable now. “Do not act without thinking it over first. Often such actions come back to haunt you.”
I nodded and smiled, hiding the hurt in my eyes.
How had he sensed where my mind had been? He knew already that I’d planned on seeking out Storm again. I hadn’t obtained the explanation I needed from him.
Darius laughed. “I can tell a lie when I see one, young lady.”
I gave him an apologetic smile.
He leaned closer until his face filled the screen. “There is much that you will come to learn over time. You will need strength to face the adversity that will befall the DarkWorld. But you will not be alone.”
I frowned and shook my head. “What-”
He lifted a hand to silence me. “Under your pillow, you will find a message. Read it with care, and treat the information with even more care.” Then his image shrank as he moved away. “And now I must leave you. Know that I am always here for you, should you need me.”
I’d barely given a nod in response when the screen went blank. Off balance, I straightened, frowning and wishing he’d be a little less cryptic.
Then I stiffened.
Under my pillow?
I hurried upstairs and tossed my pillow on the floor, revealing a brown paper envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of yellowed paper, a few paragraphs of scrawled cursive majestically occupying the center of the paper.
I used my cellphone torchlight to read the words.
In the Dark World, when the night is black,
When darkness looms, to swallow you whole,
A quintet of courage will bring forth hope,
And reach across the planes to save heart and soul
She who shreds the Veils and she who hunts the Demons,
She who mends Minds and she who speaks beyond the Grave,
And she who bears the face of all - these five shall be as one.
For they are the saviors of the DarkWorld, they are the Ni’amh...
What in the world did that mean?
I reread the words, frowning as I tried to identify the people the poem mention.
The one who shreds Veils was most likely me. The demon hunter could well be Kai. A mender of minds had to be a MindMelder and the only one of impressive power that I knew of was Darcy Graham.
The DeathTalker could be Nerina, but I couldn’t be sure. The soft-spoken girl had never seemed much of a fighter to me.
And the wearer of faces? Probably a ShapeChanger like Cassandra Monteith.
What did it all mean?
And why us? What was so important about us that we’d be summoned together to form this group called the Ni’amh?
Whatever it was, there was no doubt we’d eventually find out. But for now, I had other things to think about.
Ari and Samuel were still lost to me. Both Drake and Saleem were gone, and I had no idea if they’d return.
And Storm, my mentor and guardian for so many years, had betrayed me.
Erik, the victim, had been the perpetrator, wanting to abduct Silvanya in order to keep the diamond production going after he took over his mother’s business. Elise Garner had been right after all—her son was really after the family business.
And a witch doctor awaited me in New Orleans.
My heart needed healing, but who knew if I’d ever have time to fully recover.
Especially with a future that looked filled with dire predictions.
Whatever came my way, there was one thing I was damned sure about.
I didn’t plan on taking anything lying down.
~TO BE CONTINUED~
Mel’s Adventures continue in Demon Soul.
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BLOOD CURSE
A SOULTRACKER NOVEL BOOK 3
Copyright © 2017 by T.G. Ayer
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Eduardo Priego
Cover art © T.G. Ayer. All rights reserved.
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About the Author
I have been a writer from the time I was old enough to recognize that reading was a doorway into my imagination. Poetry was my first foray into the art of the written word. Books were my best friends, my escape, my haven. I am essentially a recluse but this part of my personality is impossible to practice given I have two teenage daughters, who are actually my friends, my tea-makers, my confidantes… I am blessed with a husband who has left me for golf. It’s a fair trade as I have left him for writing. We are both passionate supporters of each other's loves – it works wonderfully…
My heart is currently broken in two. One half resides in South Africa where my old roots still remain, and my heart still longs for the endless beaches and the smell of moist soil after a summer downpour. My love for Ma Afrika will never fade. The other half of me has been transplanted to the Land of the Long White Cloud. The land of the Taniwha, beautiful Maraes, and volcanoes. The land of green, pure beauty that truly inspires. And because I am so torn between these two lands – I shall forever remain cross-eyed.
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