Did I mention I don’t like this guy? I don’t.
With the opening chatter over, Walker launches into the mission review. Walker, Myla and I will go to her arena match this morning. It’s important to keep with official ghoul government responsibilities for as long as possible. If Myla skips out, that will cause both alarm bells and trouble. Meanwhile, Camilla, Cissy, Zeke and Tim will go to a desert bunker and await our arrival. After Myla’s match, we’ll meet up in the bunker until the angels can arrive and take Myla to a safe house.
It’s a good plan.
I still don’t like Tim’s involvement in it. What can I say? After years of leading all my own demon patrols—and even a few demonic wars—I have strong opinions. A few times, I open my mouth, ready to question Walker. But the glare I get from my best friend tells me to stay silent.
And perhaps he’s right. Part of being a good leader is knowing when to hang back.
“I believe that covers everything,” states Walker at length. “Any questions?”
Myla shifts her weight. Clearly, she’s uncomfortable. And I don’t blame her. The arena was her life. Now, she’s stepping into an entirely new existence.
Walker clears his throat. “Myla?”
Myla’s head snaps up. “Yeah?” She has the distinct look of someone waking up from a long sleep. “I mean, what was the question again?”
“Are we ready to go?” asks Camilla.
My mind takes a snapshot of the moment. Myla’s experiencing I what I call the vise. It’s the jaws of power snapping in around her. I remember the moment I realized the vise had me. It happened on demon patrol. My unit was tracking a pack of humanoid maggot monsters called vermis. All the thrax warriors had their blades out, ready to taken down the vermis before they struck a Siberian village. But no one moved to strike. Then I realized all eyes were on me. Stiffening my spine, I called out one word, ‘attack!’ All the warriors went into action.
I was nine years old.
Power presses in around you with metal jaws. From now on, Myla will be expected to give her guidance on everything. I was raised to this responsibility. Myla wasn’t. I’m torn between feeling this is isn’t fair … and relief that if nothing else, Myla has me. I can help her adjust.
For her part, Myla takes the change in stride. She slaps on a convincing smile. “Yes, absolutely. Let’s go. Cissy, Zeke, Tim, and Mom open the bunker. Walker, Lincoln, and I go the arena. Then Walker takes me to the bunker. Yeah.”
For a first speech, it was a solid effort. Still, Myla nibbles her thumbnail in an anxious rhythm. I lace my fingers with hers. “Together, we can do anything,” I say softly.
She takes in a shaky breath. Myla doesn’t believe that yet.
That’s fine, I have enough faith for both of us. We can beat this. That said, I wish I knew more about what this day holds. Between Armageddon and the Tithe, I can’t shake the feeling that more surprises are definitely coming our way.
37
With the briefing over, Tim portals Camilla, Cissy and Zeke off to the bunker. After that, Walker opens a portal of his own. Destination: the arena. Soon Walker, Myla and I stand in one of the arena’s darkened archways. The place is familiar; it’s the same blocked off corridor I’ve used before. There’s no one here but us three.
For weeks, I’ve wanted to get more information from Walker about his true relationship to Myla. Who knows what could help in protecting her today? Before, I kept waiting for the right time.
That moment is now.
I round on Walker. “Before we go further, I want to thank you for taking such good care of Myla and her mother. I only asked you to deliver a few messages…” I let that phrase hang out there. Walker knows what I’m really saying. I promised to pretend that Walker was only a delivery boy.
Now I’m not so happy about that arrangement.
To be absolutely clear, I add an extra verbal kick. “And you’ve gone above and beyond.”
Above my head.
Beyond my knowledge.
Meaning: you better talk, brother.
If Myla catches my sarcasm, she doesn’t show it. Instead, my girl approaches Walker and kisses him. It’s only on the cheek, but my reaction is both immediate and overwhelming. I’ve heard about ‘seeing red,’ but I’ve never had it happen to me. Yet right now, Walker’s entire visage is painted in shades of crimson.
If he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him.
“I can’t believe it,” Myla says to Walker. “This could be our last arena match together.” She glances to the ceiling, her lips whispering silent calculations. “The first time you snuck me in here was, what, eight years ago?”
My red mood instantly turns dark. Walker’s known Myla since she was a child? How have I not known this? It’s been a long time since I wondered Walker’s real motivations here. In fact, I’d dropped the whole idea of him wanting anything but her safety. But seeing that kiss? Hearing their history? It sets off an avalanche of jealousy inside me.
She kissed him.
Kissed.
Him.
I glare at Walker with all the malice I can conjure. It takes all my years of training not to punch my so-called friend in the neck. Myla glances between us for us time. Then her eyes widen.
“I forgot, you know each other too. How did that happen?” She asks.
How did that happen indeed? I keep glaring at Walker. I
Walker turns to Myla. “You remember how my great-grandmother was an archangel?” he asks.
My girl nods. “Mom told me about it ages ago.”
“She’s the archangel Aquila,” explains Walker. “She also founded the House of Rixa. Lincoln and I are both members of the Aquilinea, a society for the descendants of Aquila.”
Myla chuckles. “I should start a society for the descendants of Xavier. It’ll give me something to do when I’m alone.” She glances between me and Walker some more. Finally, her gaze lands on Walker with a silent entreaty. What?
Walker exhales a long suffering sigh. “Your mother forbade me to mention my personal history, so I’ve respected her wishes. Now, however, it’s time you knew about the Aquilinea.”
“Thanks,” replies my future queen.
Did I mention my possible bride has no business kissing Walker? I’m still stuck on that part.
“That explains why Octavia and Lincoln trusted you with their messages,” continues Myla.
All this time, I haven’t broken my stare at Walker. “That explains you and me,” I say. “How about you and Myla?”
Myla’s mouth contracts into an ‘o’. “You didn’t know that Walker knew me?”
“Not beyond the few messages I gave him.” Not officially, anyway.
“I’m under an unbreakable oath,” explains Walker. “Myla’s mother must approve anything I say about her.”
“How about I act as proxy for my mother?” Myla twiddles her fingers in Walker’s direction. “I release thee from thy oath.”
“That should work.” I lower my voice and keep right on glaring at Walker. “Speak.”
Walker shrugs. “Xavier was my instructor ages ago, in the Citadel. He became like a father to me. When he left Purgatory, he asked me to watch over Camilla. I took an unbreakable oath. When Myla was born, I watched over her, too.”
This isn’t helping. I now have a pretty good idea who my girl is to Walker now. “So, Myla’s the mystery girl you’ve been visiting all these years?”
How many times does Walker sneak off for his mystery girl? Countless.
How often have I assumed they were romantically entangled? Contently.
My hands ball into fists. I just want to punch Walker once. Couldn’t he have found some sneaky way to give the heartsick prince a heads-up here? The whole time, he’s been blocking me and Myla … and it’s all for his own purposes.
Walker lifts his chin. “Yes.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Myla make her ‘o’ face once more. I’d soak in the full sight of her but that would mean no
more glaring at Walker.
In this moment, that’s not an option.
Myla moves to stand before me. She cups my face in her hands, forcing me to meet her gaze straight on. “It’s not like that between us. Walker’s basically my brother.”
You’d think that would stop my jealous rage. It doesn’t. “So, you two never?”
“Sha!” Myla rolls her eyes. “I appreciate the jealousy, but we’re burning up valuable goodbye kiss time.”
And with that, my anger cools to something else. Grinning, I lean in and kiss her, hard. Our mouths move in a intense dance. It’s my way of saying, this can’t be our last kiss. I won’t allow that to happen.
I presses my forehead against hers. “Be safe.”
Myla’s tail musses my hair. “I will,” she says. And she brushes her lips against mine again. Turning to Walker, Myla pulls her body armor mask over her face. “Let’s do this.”
Walker nods, then twists to face me. He sets his fist on his chest, the appropriate farewell for an Aquilinean. “Goodbye, Shield Brother.”
I exhale, regroup, and do the same motion. “Until we meet again.” Walker winks. He knows he totally got out of a face-punch that time.
Myla and Walker stride out onto the arena floor. Some part of my heart goes with them.
Please, let this work out. Keep my loved ones safe.
38
There are moments that sear into visual postcards for your mind. Right now is one of those for me. It’s the vision of Myla and Walker stepping away as they cross the arena floor. It’s the kind of image that I’ll go back to later on, thinking one of two things:
Here was the golden moment before we triumphed, or …
Right after this, everything fell apart.
I lean against the corridor wall, my gaze locked on their departure. Myla steps over to a group of quasi warriors. Walker waits near Myla’s side. Up in the stands, angels and demons take their seats. Now, I’m no expert in arena battles. In fact, when I came here it was mainly to watch Myla, not everyone else. That said, Myla knows her stuff. As she scans the arena, her brows draw together until there’s a small furrow between them.
Something is wrong.
I inspect the stadium once more, even more closely this time. Verus has extra guards today. Even I can tell that’s a change. Adrenaline kicks through my bloodstream. Extra guards means the Queen of the Angels expects trouble.
The emcee thumps his staff. “Angels, ghouls, and demons, I bring you–”
From his balcony perch, Armageddon cries out. “I request the presence of the Scala and Scala Heir.” The King of Hell stares dagger at the four ghouls who rule both Purgatory and the Dark Lands. The Oligarchy. “Do you agree?”
The Oligarchy speak in unison. “Call the bearers.”
Anxious energy streams through my limbs. Verus called my people here to protect Maxon Bane. The Great Scala has no business on the arena floor. It’s far too exposed. And bringing along the Scala Heir here as well? They must mean Adair, and I can only hope the lady of Acca has the sense to ignore the summons.
Within a few minutes, a large portal opens. Out of it steps six ghouls carrying a stretcher. Maxon Bane lies atop, deep in sleep. Next Adair walks out in her white robes. She lifts her chin, scanning the crowd with the same look she wears before launching into one of her mead hall songs. Not helpful.
Adair raises her hand. “I’d like to say something, if I may?”
The emcee bows. “Of course, oh, Scala Heir.”
“I was so touched when this random ghoul visited me and asked if I could join you people today. It really shows you’ve come to revere me. Thank you. Really.”
From across the arena floor, Myla’s gaze locks with mine. I look between Myla and Adair; then shake my head. My intent is obvious; Adair should not be here.
Myla nods and half-rolls her eyes. Her meaning is also clear; No shit.
The emcee pounds his staff onto the stadium floor. “Now we shall–”
Armageddon raises his voice again. “I was not finished.”
Alarm courses through my nervous system. It’s the same adrenaline kick I get when a fight is about to begin.
The emcee stammers. “Ye…Yes?”
Rising, Armageddon lifts his arms. “ATTACK!”
A quick inventory speeds through my head. It’s all part of my training. Never run into a fight before thinking through the three W’s.
Who is there.
What threat they represent.
Where is your objective.
Who. I count quasi warriors, angels, demons, Verus, the Oligarchy, ghoul workers, Walker, Adair, Maxon Bane, and the Great Scala’s Guard.
What threat. The demons and Armageddon are the enemy.
Where is my objective. The way I see things, most people here can fend for themselves. Verus is a warrior. Maxon Bane and Adair can exit with their ghoul guards. That leaves one goal for this mission. Get Myla, get Walker, and get out.
I race out of the stone hallway, heading toward Myla. The arena floor becomes overrun with manus demons, their bulky forms block my path. These are the thugs of Hell; massive furry creatures who literally pound their enemies into the dirt. I dodge them and run on.
I’m not here for a battle; I’m after Myla.
Above me, Verus takes to the skies, along with her angelic warriors. The Oligarchy open portals for themselves and disappear. The manus head for the exits. They punch through anyone blocking their path.
Clearly, this is an invading army. I’ll deal with that later. For now, only question matters.
What happened to Myla?
Pulling out my baculum, I ignite them into a long sword and keep heading for where I last saw my girl. My senses sharpen. I catch the trace of her. Cinnamon and sunshine. I’m getting closer. I dodge more manus demons. One decides to attack, so I slice it straight through from shoulder to hip. Another comes for me, I take off its head.
I roar with rage as the black demonic blood spatters my body armor.
“Myla, where are you?”
Overhead, more angels and demons swoop and dive through the air. Demons bite and claw. Angels cut and dodge. A murena demon swoops in toward me, ready to attack. This is a long eel-like monster with wings, long fangs, and venom galore. As the monster flies toward my head, I raise my sword. My blade bites into the creature’s belly. I brace my legs, keeping my stance steady as my fiery blade cuts through the murena’s long body. The monster glides past me and crashes onto the arena floor, dead.
At last, I reach the spot where Myla had been. There’s no sign of her. Walker swore to Camilla that he would always keep Myla safe. Did my friend speed her to safety already? I can only hope my girl is healthy and well.
Manus demons race across the grounds, taking down angels, quasis, and ghouls.
Wait, ghouls?
Ghoul-kind should portal away from this battle. Something must be wrong with Group Think. Or perhaps a block spell has been cast. At this point, it’s too hard to tell. Only one thing is for certain. The Oligarchy took off, but no other ghouls are leaving. Apart from Walker, most ghouls are easy to kill. This is becoming a massacre.
A groan echoes through the air. It’s a familiar voice, and it’s close.
Walker.
A manus demon leaps toward me. I kneel, brace my stance, and point my blade at the creature’s heart. The trick with a manus is to use their weight and momentum against them. The monster plunges at me, a massive humanoid with long arms and deadly intent. My blade pierces the demon’s rib cage. With my legs in position, I slice up, cutting the demon’s head in two.
Then I see Walker.
My friend is wrapped in the long appendages of a crini demon. These are massive octopi whose central body includes wide black eyes and a massive beak-like mouth. Rushing over to Walker, I slice off one wriggling leg of the demon who’s trying to crush my friend.
Then I cut off another.
That only angers the crini. But now I can reach its massi
ve head mound much more easily. Lunging forward, I jut my blade in through the side of its skull. The creature falls over, lifeless. I kneel beside Walker.
“Are you all right?”
My friend can self-heal, but even that has its limits. Walker grips his stomach, the very spot where the crini had been crushing him. Terror lights up his all-black eyes as Walker speaks one word: “Myla.” He nods behind me.
That’s all I need to know.
Rising, I spin about. Before me, there’s a sight I never want to see.
A crini attacks Myla.
The monster’s slimy appendages hold back Myla’s legs and tail. Other slimy arms wrap around Myla’s middle as the monster pulls Myla toward its razor-sharp teeth. My girl grips either side of the beak-like mouth, stopping the creature from eating her whole.
“Myla!” I let loose a battle cry as I leap toward my woman.
With supernatural speed, I cut the monster’s head into sections. The crini hovers in place for a moment before collapsing into pieces on the arena floor.
Myla tumbles out of the demon’s grip. She lands on her feet because, of course she does. My girl scans the dead bits of crini and grins.
“I owe you one,” she says.
I return her smile with one of my own. “I know.” ”
Turning, I check out Walker once again. He’s still clutching his belly. A portal stands open beside him. The rectangular shape wavers. I scan the floor. No other portals are visible. The other ghouls are still here, but unable to leave. Whatever is happening, Walker’s powerful enough to work past what’s stopping the others. That said, how much longer can he hold out?
I grasp Myla’s hand. “Walker’s free, let’s get out of here.”
A high-pitched cry ricochets through the air. I wince. “I know that voice,” I state. And it’s someone who didn’t portal away with Maxon Bane.
“I do too,” says Myla. “It’s Adair.”
My hunter’s sense picks up something else as well. Gentle vibrations move up through my limbs. Kneeling, I touch the ground. Another predator has arrived. And it’s worse than the others.
Lincoln Page 32
