That morning, however, it was not a nightmare that drew Emma from her sleep. Her body shook, and a loud rumbling jerked her upright. Darkness still lingered on the other side of her drawn curtains; the clock on her side table read two in the morning.
The bed shook again, and Emma heard the doors vibrating in their frames. The entire mansion swayed, making her dizzy. Screams filled the hall just as Blaze burst through her door, his dark hair mussed with sleep.
“An earthquake?” she asked, throwing off the blanket and getting to her feet.
Blaze didn’t answer—he grabbed her arm and sprinted for the door. Emma glanced down at her short sleep shorts and thin tank top and willed them into a sweater and jeans. The material covered her body like a second skin as Blaze rushed with her into the hall. People ran for the front doors, clearly not understanding proper earthquake procedure.
Another violent tremor rocked the house, and the stairs beneath Emma felt like they’d been pulled out from under her.
Screams grew into a crescendo. Bodies tumbled and rolled on the hard, cool marble. Everywhere, people clutched those around them. Blaze’s arms wrapped around Emma, crushing her to him. Plaster and dust showered them, the ceiling groaning, threatening to collapse.
“Hold on!” a woman shouted, and Emma distantly recognized it as Taryn.
Bursts of color lit the foyer better than the few scones on the walls. More joined in, the Spellcasters’ magic repairing the damage even while the rumbling grew.
Nausea rolled through Emma, and she gripped a marble column with both hands to steady herself.
A loud crack sounded.
Then the stairs she and Blaze occupied began to move.
A voice shouted, “The staircase is splitting, everyone stay back!”
Emma tried to crane her neck to look, but Blaze’s hold was an iron vice. Several people shrieked, and then the trembling stopped.
Between the stone rungs, she tried to spy Breanna and Isaac, but it was no use. Too many people were moving again. They’re okay, Emma told herself. Dominic will make sure they’re okay.
“Come on,” Blaze demanded, pulling her to her feet. She swayed and stumbled as he helped her down the last few stairs. When she turned her head to look back at the wreckage, her stomach tightened, and her vision swam.
The beautiful, shining marble staircase was torn in half, the giant slabs cracked and caved into the closet beneath it. Emma swallowed down her sick, trying to regain her composure.
Gertie and Sergei brushed past them, glowing palms raised. A moment later she spied Taryn and several other Spellcasters she’d never seen before. They all worked to stitch the staircase back together, but Blaze continued to lead her through the crush of bodies.
In the room where all their meetings were held, he finally released his tight grip. Many of the elders were already waiting there, dressed they had been when the earthquake woke them, their faces stricken.
“Get me eyes on Seattle and contact all of your bases,” Blaze growled, storming to the head of the table where a laptop sat. Dominic and several other elders entered the room, shutting the door behind them.
One of the men—Donovan, she recalled—grabbed the computer, and began hammering away at the keys.
Everyone except Emma and Silas took out their phones, typing furiously. Someone dropped their phone with a loud clatter. One of the leaders fell into a nearby chair.
“Holy…” Donovan trailed off. His skin went white, and his hands shook as he turned the screen toward Blaze.
Emma’s heart had only begun to return to a semi-normal pace when it kicked back into gear at the way Blaze’s eyes went vacant. The hard set of his jaw slackened, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“What is it?” Silas demanded.
Blaze shut his eyes for a moment. Emma didn’t move. Didn’t breathe, waiting for him to respond.
When his eyes opened again, there was violence in his gaze. He looked around at each of his fellow soldiers. His fellow leaders.
“How many?” Blaze’s voice was low.
“All of them,” Donovan whispered. His eyes snapped up to Emma.“All five of them.”
The room spun, but not from another earthquake.
Blaze gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white. “This is it, everyone.” Then his eyes met Emma’s. They shared an intense look, communicating his meaning before the words left his lips.“The princes of Sheol have arrived.”
The room went from utter chaos to poring over maps, marking each prince’s arrival point, cataloguing the damage across the globe. Blaze had ordered Silas and Dominic to calm everyone down and send them back to sleep. He didn’t want anyone knowing just yet.
The earthquake they felt had nearly leveled the mansion… yet the prince that had surfaced was in the middle of Kansas.
“It was likely the combined shock of all five surfacing at once, and of course Seattle is right on a fault line, that’s why we felt it so strongly,” Donovan told the room when Blaze asked about the state of the rest of the country.
Which meant other states like California were likely completely toppled. Emma tried not to think about the death toll while staring down at the map before her. Red X’s marked where the princes surfaced: Europe, South America, China, and Africa. Smaller black X’s surrounded each point like swarming insects. Those marked the blackouts—no electricity, no contact.
Black zones. Did anyone within those areas survive?
Around her, the men shouted back and forth, their words far from her ears. Emma watched Blaze pointing at another paper, several men leaning around him, countering his statements loudly.
They were nowhere near having a plan formed.
Emma backed slowly toward the open door, but no one looked up. Even after she was out of the room, her footsteps were light, hurrying through the foyer. The midmorning glow illuminated the large space. She passed Breanna’s closed door and faltered for a split second before carrying on. It was best if no one knew what she was about to do, but she loathed not to say goodbye.
Emma marveled at the smooth staircase. How only hours ago it had been split in half, yet now looked as glossy and perfect as it had before the earthquake.
In her room she grabbed her backpack and upturned the contents onto her bed. Racing around, she tossed clothes and some toiletries into the bag. Enough for a week—any more would be too much for her to carry. After strapping her dagger to her waist and putting on her thickest, warmest jacket, she looked around the room, feeling the familiar weight of loneliness settling in her chest.
She swallowed hard then headed for the door. She paused in the doorway, gripping the handle tightly. Her palms heated and she blinked away the moisture that sprung to her eyes. Then she shut the door, striding down the hall.
Emma held her breath until the front door closed, then released it in a torrent. The biting winter wind blasted against her face, and she pulled up her scarf past her nose to shield it. Snow crunched beneath the boots she’d changed her Converse to. Down the stairs she went, over the snow-dusted gravel, past the cluster of tents erected for one of the covens. Their soft chatter along with the crackling of fire helped to muffle Emma’s steps all the way to the gate.
She strained to hear any sounds of alarm at her departure, but none came. Not even birds chirped nearby. Only the wind rustling through the labyrinth of rose bushes could be heard once she was far enough. Never before had silence sounded so much like death.
The Giborim guarding the gate still hadn’t noticed her. They spoke to each other in hushed tones. She kept out of their periphery, ducking low to the ground and veering far left. When she reached the gate, she laid her hands on the locking mechanisms and closed her eyes, imagining what she wanted.
The bolts disintegrated into sand that poured through her fingers and onto the crisp, snowy grass. The gate gave a subtle groan before swinging in an inch or two. Both guards on the other side fell silent, whirling to see what had caused the gate to move.<
br />
Emma yanked the gate open, slipping through when their eyes found her. One began shouting into his headset, but she whirled, spinning a kick that connected with his helmet. The other guard charged at her, a look of hatred stamped across the parts of his face that were visible. She sidestepped then wrapped her arm around his throat, and squeezed. He flailed with the strength of an angry bear, but Emma held firm until his body went limp. She released him gently into the snow and whirled for the other guard, only to spin in a circle. He wasn’t there. Boot prints led back to the mansion, making her gut clench.
She’d have even less time to escape Blaze’s fury now. The thought made her heart pound before she kicked into a sprint down the slippery, rocky mountainside.
Her only companion was the sound of her footfalls cracking the icy layer coating the ground. Wending her way through the trees, the groan of their weighted limbs chased her. Air whistled above in the treetops. More than once she thought she heard the snap of a twig or an extra set of footfalls over her thumping heart, but she didn’t slow. Twice she glanced over her shoulder, but hidden in the forest was nothing but shadows. When they seemed to shift Emma told herself that it could be anything—an animal, or snow falling from a branch.
A chilled burst of air caressed the side of her face and she ground to a halt, digging her heels into the loose rocks. She stumbled forward, sliding over ice. Her hands flew out just in time to catch herself, the bite of cold stinging her palms and soaking into her jeans.
A harsh breath sounded in front of her, and her head snapped up.
Blaze stood in front of her, eyes churning like storm clouds. He had a sword in each hand, their tips mere inches from the ground. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths that Emma figured had more to do with the palpable anger rolling off him.
“What in the blasted skies did you think you were doing?” His voice was gravelly.
Emma got to her knees, the weight of her backpack pulling her shoulders back. She lifted her chin.“None of you were even remotely close to coming up with a plan. Besides, I’m the only one that can kill them.” She brushed the snow from her knees, but it was no use—she was soaked through. She willed a fresh pair of jeans in place of the wet ones, and it warmed her instantly.
Blaze watched, his anger not dissipating in the slightest. He stepped forward, sword brushing a mound of white powder.“You can’t just run headfirst into your father’s grasp, that’s what he wants. As much as it might irritate you”—he took another step forward, quickly eating up the distance between them—“you need a plan. Foolish, rash decisions will get you killed.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he sheathed his swords without looking. “Would you allow your mother’s death to be in vain? Getting yourself killed because you couldn’t wait is doing just that.”
She bristled.“Don’t you dare use my mother’s death against me. It’s a long way to Kansas; I’d have plenty of time to come up with a plan.”
Blaze took the last step between them. His heat and earthy scent washed over her, and she fought against the urge to lean into him. It was soothing in a way that few things were.
Though his voice was hard, making it easier to resist his nearness. “By now, the Shediem will be crawling everywhere, killing and kidnapping anyone they find. Where would you sleep? How would you keep warm? You’re not safe on your own.”
Emma’s shoulders drooped. She hadn’t thought about that. “I can’t just sit and wait.”
Blaze’s eyes glinted like metal.“Trust me, I’m anxious to find my sister and see these princes exterminated, but the number one thing I’ve learned in my century and a half of seeking revenge is that you need to be calculated.”
She could see it in his eyes: the pain, the anger. They burned hotter than any flame.
In the distance, the rumbling of a vehicle’s engine carried through the trees. Emma glanced in the direction of the sound when it didn’t pass, then back at Blaze, whose lips tilted up in half smile.“Since I can’t convince you to come back, we’ll come with you.”
“We?” Emma asked, brows creased.
“Sergei, Gertie, and myself.”
She swallowed hard.“I don’t want them to get hurt.”
Blaze took her hand in his, the heat of it near searing.“They know the risks. This is everyone’s fight. We all want the world to be safe from the Shediem.”
She let out a long breath, seeing it curl through the frigid air. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He raised her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles before tugging her closer and pressing his lips to hers. He was so warm. His arms around her waist felt safe despite the fact that she was anything but.
30
Emma
They raced for the Washington border, Blaze expertly weaving through abandoned cars and wreckage. For the first thirty minutes or so, they all sat in silence, until
Sergei cleared his throat.
“So what’s the plan?”
“Get as close to the prince as possible and kill him,” Emma
answered without hesitation. Gertie spoke next.“And how do you plan on getting close to such a powerful Shediem? There may be tens of thousands of Shediem protecting him.”
“We need to get the lay of the land first,” Blaze offered, not taking his eyes from the dangerous road ahead.
Sergei leaned forward to squeeze Emma’s shoulder, and she gave him a small smile in return.“The route we’re taking is going to lead us through Colorado, part of the blackout zone. From there, we’ll get a pretty good idea what we’re dealing with.”
“How long will it take us to drive?” Emma asked, biting into her thumbnail while she stared out at the I-90. It looked like a plague had spread over it, killing all living things.
“With no stops, nineteen hours, but we’ll have to find somewhere to get fuel and possibly switch drivers so we can all get enough rest. We could have flown but I think it’ll be wise to keep to the ground for now. Assess the damage and see how bad the Shediem infestation is,” Blaze answered. “So settle in, everyone—it’s going to be a long trip.”
They made it to La Grande without incident, stopping only to find an abandoned gas station that Gertie could use her magic on. Then Sergei took the wheel while Emma tried to get some sleep in the back next to Blaze. Their legs bumped together in a soothing rhythm, and the next thing she knew, she was blinking her eyes to adjust to the bright light in front of her. Blaze held a flashlight as he leaned forward, speaking quietly with the others. He pointed at a map held by Gertie, who hummed in disapproval.
“What’s wrong? Where are we?” Emma asked. “Utah,” Blaze said distractedly.“There should be another fuel station in Ogden.”
“Will we make it that far?” Sergei asked, looking down at the fuel gauge.
Blaze tilted his head side to side in contemplation. “I have an emergency fuel can in the back to get us to Salt Lake City if need be. It’s out of our way, but it’s guaranteed that there will be petrol there.”
Gertie sighed as she folded up the map. “I’ll take the next shift as well. I’m well rested.”
“I can do it, Gertie, it’s not—”
“Hush, young man. No arguments.You barely slept a wink.” She glanced back at Emma.“You looked like you had a good rest though. Seven or so hours.”
Emma’s eyes bugged out of her head.“I slept that long?”
Blaze sent her a wry grin. “It was clearly needed, and not one nightmare.”
Gertie’s face fell.“You’re still having those?”
Even Sergei’s eyes lifted to the rearview mirror. Though she could barely make them out in the dim lighting, she could still see the concern that flashed in them.
Emma nodded, not bothering to hide the truth.
“You know, I can make you a sleeping draught,” Sergei said. “I made them for your mother. She had nightmares too.”
She shook her head, unable to speak against the tightening of her throat. Her mother no longer had nightmares—she d
idn’t have dreams of any kind. They fell into a heavy silence, each of them keeping watch outside the windows.
The vehicle turned down an exit, winding through several abandoned cars. When they approached a small town, only the outlines of buildings could be seen in the dark. Not a single light indicated life within.
Perhaps the Shediem had already gotten to all of them. Emma shivered at the idea.
They slowed in the streets, the tension in the car suffocating. Sergei spotted a gas station on the edge of town and rolled to a stop. For a moment, they didn’t move, searching for signs of movement—Shediem or human.
When it seemed like the coast was clear, Sergei unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door. Blaze followed suit, casting Emma a sidelong glance just before she reached for her door.
“Stay inside the car,” Blaze commanded.
“Not gonna happen,” she replied before she jumped down, the sound of her shoes slapping the cracked pavement loud in the echoing silence. Gertie was the last to get out, and she sighed her disapproval.
Sergei lifted the pump and inserted the nozzle. Gertie raised her hands and a soft yellow glow danced from her palms to the pump, and at once, fuel audibly flowed into the tank. Emma let out a breath of relief, feeling her shoulder sag slightly.
Less than a second later, a growl rumbled behind her.
Blaze was in motion before she could react, blades drawn, the cold-soldier mask slipping into place. She whirled around, taking in the sight of the Nybbas as it raised its long spindly arms, its dark, soulless eyes locked on her.
The sound of blade severing bone and tendon filled her ears, followed by a shrill screech that no doubt summoned more of its kind. The oily spray of thick, black fluid coated her torso and the side of her face.
Already she felt the stir of her power rising through her—a welcome sensation.
More growls and hisses filled the darkness behind the tall creature. She leapt past it, dodging its amputated limbs to charge the approaching Shediem. It was difficult to make out the ranks of beasts with only the moonlight to show her enemies, but she sensed them. Whether it was a residual effect from the mark or her powers growing stronger, she didn’t know, or care. She counted them under her breath.
The Throne of Broken Bones (Weapon of Fire and Ash Book 3) Page 24
