by J J Marshall
“Milosh,” she whispered, moving closer to him. He was a good foot taller than her, towering over her. Milosh turned, tearing his attention from the sirens, and looked at his leaders, his dark eyes switching from their hard demeanor to a softer one.
“Yes, Chancellor?”
“We need to get to safety. Whatever is coming will likely destroy us. Have you located my son?” She needed to get to Orian, convince him to join her side. That much she knew for sure. Silently, Milosh shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Chancellor, tailing your son has been Jake’s job,” he replied in a thick Russian accent.
“Jake,” she called out, watching as the man she had once trusted her life to, turn around. His eyes narrowed, watching her. He met her gaze as she flinched. It was cold, harsh. But why?
“I heard, Milosh, the satellites have been tracking Orian since he arrived, my queen,” he growled. “All I have to do is activate the tracker I beat… I mean, placed on him during our training sessions back in the Midland, and we will find him.” His words were simple. Activate the tracker and her son would be found.
“Very well,” she whispered, shaking her head slightly. Taking a knee, Kyrina pulled the backpack from her shoulders and set it on the ground. Ruffling through the food and water bottles, she pulled out a small hand-held monitor. Button and knobs cluttered the surface with a small screen. A twist here, and push there and the lights began to glow eerily green. Beeping sounded from the screen as she powered it up, clicking and twisting buttons and knobs in a repetitive nature when the screen roared to life. “Jake,” she whispered again.
“Yes?”
“You know better than I how to use this machine. Can you take it?” Silently, Jake nodded and approached Kyrina, grasping her hands as she transferred the locater into his. She shut her eyes, letting out a brief, quiet sigh.
“Found him,” Jake replied a second later. Kyrina froze, her breaths coming in ragged as her heart thrummed against her chest. This was it. She would see her son after fifteen long years. Orian was two when she left, such a sweet young boy and Karsten, three. But she did what was necessary for her survival, no matter how selfish it was at the time.
“How far? Where?” she whispered as screams echoed through the air around them. The odd scent of sulfur filled the air, prickling at Kyrina’s senses. Choking the air from her lungs, she nearly gagged, covering her nose with the sleeve of her blouse.
Demons.
“We need to go. Come on!” She whispered back, slinging the bookbag back over her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Jake’s reassuring hand and gave it a quick squeeze. Jake looked as her and silently nodded, as if he understood her thoughts. Kyrina picked up the pace; her feet crashed hard against the pavement with footsteps echoing behind hers.
Soon. I’ll see you soon, Orian.
*
The sun dipped below the horizon as Kyrina slowed. Her lungs burned for air, but her heart yearned for her son. A small suburban street with matching houses stood before them as the street lights flickered, zapping bugs that circled them. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but figures littered the streets, screeching and clawing at one another. Sulfur greeted her nostrils as she lowered her bag to the ground. Slowly, she rolled her neck from side to side, welcoming the familiar pops and clenched her fists. Quietly, she looked to her left and right at Milosh and Jake.
“We disable, not kill. We get my son and get out. Once we are back at the headquarters, we will attack this epidemic head on.” Closing her eyes, Kyrina called to her light, smiling as the familiar prickle crept up her spine. Sparks sprang from her fingers, dancing their way up her arms. Opening her hooded lids, she peered over to Jake, watching his red sparks dance around him like flames. To her left, Milosh smirked, retrieving a lighter from his pocket, he lit his weapons ablaze.
“Let’s kick it,” Milosh laughed with his hearty accent. Kyrina smirked and nodded as she strode forward towards the house her son was in.
*
Hands dripping in blackened blood, Kyrina fought the urge to throw up. Screams shattered the silent night as she plunged her hand through the chest of another infected human, wrapping her fingers around it’s beating heart.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, ripping the beating organ from the sick’s chest, throwing it onto the asphalt below. Her words rang in her ears, We disable, not kill, but these creatures had come at them in full fury and all Kyrina could do was destroy. The woman gurgled as black blood poured from her chest, ripping and clawing at the hole. Her knees buckled as Kyrina caught her by the shoulders, gently laying her down. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she knelt over the lifeless body, closing the creature’s open eyes.
“Be still and know I was with you until the end,” she whispered as she moved away.
******
Twenty-Five
Karsten
Anger and hatred boiled beneath the surface, lapping at Karsten as he stood in the Throne Room. His heart pounded against his chest as he fought to breathe. He shut his eyes, feeling the world spin around him as his lungs burned, aching for air. He was frozen…by hate. Henry was dead. Killed by his own hand, forced by the king. Vomit threatened its way up his throat as he forced it back down. Silent tears fell from his dark, murky irises, pricking at his cheeks.
“Join the Fallen,” something within him sang. “Join us and kill the king. He forced you to kill a part of yourself. Now is the time for revenge. Payback is a bitch, now make him yours.”
Join the Fallen? He had never considered becoming that dark, that…evil. But something in him broke as his sword came down severing Henry’s head from his shoulders. His eyes gazed down, taking in the hot sticky fluid that covered his hands.
Blood.
His ears rang as the sounds of cheers echoed the Throne Room. Monsters, the lot of them! Forcing the tears back, Karsten looked up at his father. The king smiled wickedly back at him.
“Find my son,” he demanded, leering down at Karsten. Dark shadows crept into Karsten’s view as he stared back into his father’s empty eyes. I’ll find your beloved son. And when I do, I’ll kill you both…for Henry. For what you made me do to him. “And when you find him, bring him back alive. His death is mine.”
Karsten barely registered his father’s words as he shut his eyes, searching for the darkness within. Little voice? I will join the Fallen Ranks. I will give everything to you. In return for the king’s head.
*
The castle had not changed much, but Karsten felt as if he was living in another lifetime. Sure, he had never spoken much of his feelings for the general, he preferred showing his true form in other ways, but now Henry was dead and he had only told him his feelings once. He was numb. Numb to everything except the hate that threatened to overflow from him whenever someone appeared at his chamber door. Three days had passed since he had been forced to kill, and the Midland went on as if nothing had happened, as if their general had simply gone on vacation, though that was far from the case.
The slow burn of amber liquid seared Karsten’s throat as he stared into the freshly lit fire, devising a way to bring down his father. Soon enough he would have to find Orian. And soon enough, Orian and his father would pay for what they had done. Thoughts of their decapitations brought a slim smile to his lips as he swirled his glass around, watching as the light from the fire illuminated within. A small short breath of air seized Karsten’s thoughts as the flames flickered slightly. He wasn’t alone, he could feel it.
“Leave. Now,” he growled as he swigged the rest of his drink back and pushed himself to his feet.
“I’d watch your tone, little Keeper,” a low, husky voice murmured back. Karsten turned, he knew that voice. The same voice that spoke to him in the Throne Room.
“You,” he whispered as he took in the sight of the voice’s owner.
“I’m surprised to see you sulking. If I recall you wanted to join my ranks, kill the king, and take his head as your trophy. Big ambitio
ns for someone sitting around his chambers drinking his sorrows away,” the voice spoke.
“Shut the fuck up,” Karsten barked, stumbling over his words. The voice knew nothing of his sorrows. How dare you speak of him. You know nothing!
“I’d watch your tongue, little prince. You know to with whom you speak.”
“Then do me a favor and enlighten me,” Karsten hissed out. Dark, feathered wings unfurled, revealing the source of the speaker. Karsten’s cock twinged as he took in the sight of the Fallen angel. He was beautiful, but all Angels were, at least that’s what his studies had told him. He stood before Karsten dressed in a dark suit and tie. His hair was dark, the same shade of black his wings were as his black eyes flashed towards Karsten’s nether regions. A smile flickered across his face and he moved towards the prince until there was no space between them. Karsten could feel his breath hitch as the Fallen tilted his head back looking directly into his eyes.
“Lucifer,” Karsten gasped.
“Oh, so formal of you. But call me Lucius. Indulge yourself. Relish the evil within. Seize your hatred and let it penetrate you,” he whispered, bringing his lips down upon Karsten’s. Fire roared inside Karsten’s body as he tried to pull away. His body burned, screamed in agony as the Fallen angel held him in place. He wanted to twist and scream in pain, but he couldn’t. His body was being burned alive and he could only stand there and take it. But as fast as the pain came, it left. The Fallen pulled back and moved his hand down, grasping Karsten’s balls. Karsten froze, as his vision ebbed away, going black. His cocked flicked again, aching for a release.
“You belong to me. If I say kill, you kill. If I desire your flesh, present yourself, and if I say die, you die. Your thoughts belong to me. Your body belongs to my ranks. Your freedom no longer exists. Cross me and I will punish you. Understood?” his hot breath whispered against Karsten’s ear. Karsten nodded, forcing down the lump that formed into his throat. “Speak,” the Fallen demanded.
“U-understood,” Karsten forced out.
“Good,” the angel purred as he slipped his hand into Karsten’s pants. “Undress yourself. You are free to see,” he said. The black veil that shielded Karsten’s vision lifted, revealing the angel, as his hand slid up and down Karsten’s member. Karsten shuddered, concentrating on the pleasure and trying not to bust. He nodded and he slipped his pants down below his knees, stepping out of them. The Fallen smiled and slipped to his knees. Karsten could feel his feathers pulse against his legs as the angel licked and slipped his penis into his mouth, sucking hard without warning. Karsten found his release, moaning, as his body stiffened. He watched as the angel licked his lips and wiped his mouth with his hand.
“Good, you released yourself to me as I will do to you,” he crooned slicing his own trousers away. Karsten’s eyes widened. “I've never been taken,” he whispered.
“Ah,” Lucius laughed. “Then there’s a first for everything. Turn around and present yourself to me,” he stated. Fear pulsed through Karsten’s veins as he nodded, scared of punishment that would be cast upon him, and presented himself. Pain seared in his ass as the Fallen slammed into him, repeatedly until he found his release. Karsten moaned as another shudder ran through him and he filled with the Fallen’s essence. He felt his body changing, his light dimming. His mark changing from black to red, as it webbed itself in knots around his arms, spreading up to his back. His eyes felt different as well, his vision sharpening. He felt stronger, faster, craving lust. The Fallen King pulled back flipping Karsten around to stare into his eyes.
“Mine,” he croaked as the room darkened and once more, Karsten was alone in his chamber.
******
Twenty-Six
Hanna
Everything was coming in blurs as Hanna woke. She squinted as thin rays of light found their way through her thick, dark lashes. Her head ached, pounding against her skull. She moaned, clutching her head with weak, unsteady hands. Her tongue was dry, aching for water as thirst gripped at its sandpaper feel. Memories began to flood back to her. She remembered the shaggy-haired blond boy by her side, though everything felt like a dream. He was glowing, and then her ribs ached, burning like someone had thrown boiling water at her…or worse…and that’s when the darkness descended onto her. She rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hands, blinking, once, twice, as stars floated through her clouded vision. She followed them briefly with her fingers before blinking to clear them away. Her breaths came in short and shallow as she looked about the room. Screams echoed outside the unfamiliar building, what she could only hope was an abandoned new home. The faint scent of fresh paint filtered through her nostrils as Hanna pushed herself up. Her body stiffened as if on cue. The daylight was quickly fading, casting shadows across the room as a dark figure stood in the window. It turned towards her, causing a gasp to escape Hanna’s parted lips, his bright blue eyes peering directly at her.
“Glad to see you’re awake,” the figure’s husky voice said. Hanna moved her hand towards her side, taking in the bruising that had started to develop, wincing as her fingers grazed over top the blacked spots of her ribs. The dull pang of pain bit at her as she moved her hand away, though she still had no idea what had happened, or how. “Your body heals so quickly. It’s remarkable really, I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve heard stories sure, but—” he rambled on. Hanna noted his slight accent, sounding British in origin, yet different. Beautiful, melodic.
“You talk a lot,” She growled, wishing for silence, wishing to hear what was happening outside, wishing for…Adrian. “Can’t a girl get some quiet?” With an audible sigh the boy moved closer to her and sat down, grasping her hands between both of his. They were warm and inviting. Hanna bit at her lip, fighting the beckoning urge to pull away from the beautiful boy, but didn’t.
“My name is Orian. Hanna, we’ve been through this. I’m your guardian,” he droned, sounding slightly annoyed that she didn’t recognize him or remember his name. Setting her jaw, the muscles in her cheek tightened as Hanna’s own irritation grew. She didn’t care of his issues, or nonsensical talk, her only concern was finding help, and a way out. If this pretty boy couldn’t help her, well then, she didn’t need him. She leaned forward, resting her palms against the cool wood floor below. Her knees wobbled as she pushed herself up, biting into her lip as the pain in her side, threatened to bring her back down.
“And stop rolling your eyes at me. Yes, I can see them, and you, very clearly,” Orian finished, his tone clipped, angry.
Good. Fuck you for getting us into this situation, fuck me for being out here while my baby brother is alone. Fuck this entire world and its damn chaos.
“Can we move? Where’s my brother?” Her legs wobbled beneath her as she stood in place, her head swimming, filling as she swayed. Orian’s figure blurred, moving faster than any normal human, but then again, Orian had stated that he wasn’t human. His arm wrapped around her midriff, holding her as her knees buckled, his bright sapphire eyes, peering into hers. Heat rushed to Hanna’s cheeks as she looked away, righting herself, she cleared her throat.
“My brother?” she asked again, trying not to cough. Praying that the moment would end and she could get the information she desperately sought.
“Adrian is safe. And when the noise outside stops we will get you to safety, to your family,” Orian reassured her. Something about him eased her angst. He felt familiar, but she knew they had never met, not in person, until now. Guardian or not, this boy was still a stranger. Another bout of screams echoed outside, somewhere in the distance as a faint, small knock pounded from the front door.
Definitely a house.
Orian moved, slow and easy, making sure to make no sound as he neared the peep hole, peeking outside.
“Who is it?” Hanna whispered. Orian’s sharp gaze met her, cutting the words from her tongue. He moved a single finger to his lips, issuing her to silence. His body stiffened as he peeked out again. Must be the sick. Though, I hope not.
“Do. Not. Move,” he whispered to Hanna. “Move behind the bedroom door. Stay silent. There are two men and one woman. They don’t to be appear sick, but I need you to stay hidden. I need you safe Hanna. Please nod if you understand. Obey.”
Obey? Who the fuck does this boy think he is?
The faint snap of the deadbolt registered into the next room as voices sounded. Gruff, strong, wrong…
Hanna pushed her sore body closer to the doorway, flattening herself against the wall, as if trying to become part of it. She was hidden, yes, but still enough space for her to peak around the corner. She watched as a woman, clad in dark curls and fancy clothing entered the abandoned home, flocked by two men.
Guards.
The woman spoke first, her voice even, soft. “She is a Forsaken. The Embassy will protect her, protect you. Surely, you know your betrayal will be met with death from the king.”
“I don’t care. Fuck the king and you. We aren’t going anywhere,” Orian hissed, taking a step in the woman’s direction. The guard next to her tensed, as the woman stepped forward as well. A pissing match.
“You will come with me, Orian, by choice or by force. But I am not leaving without the girl. The choice is yours,” she stated, flicking her hand to her guards, each moved closer to her side.
“Piss off.” The woman pursed her lips as she looked to Orian in disdain.
“Sad,” she muttered. “I thought you would be smart enough to choose the easy way. As you are a smart boy, my son. But nevertheless, you choose to fight this. And my sweet, innocent, stupid boy, you have chosen wrong. Jake, Milosh,” she gestured to her guards. “Subdue him.” Both men nodded, closing in on Orian. Hanna leaned back, resting her head against the wall as sounds of the scuffle came from the room before her. Fear lapped under her skin. I need you safe, Orian’s words echoed in her brain. Why me? Why risk everything for me? She shut her eyes only for a moment, but knew she was not alone, not anymore. Dark eyes, rimmed in the darkest scarlet, peered back at Hanna where she stood.
