We reached the foyer and the grand staircase. From here, we only needed to climb the stairs and we’d be able to see the door to Asmodius’ office, but there were guards in the foyer. They weren’t so much watching for threats as they were trying to regroup and make sense of the nightmare unfolding around them.
I ducked behind a corner with Axel by my side and watched the guards in the foyer. “Have any of these people ever seen a mage do magic before?” I asked.
“All of them. They do most of the patrol work around here, a lot of them are also placed as security for the mages my father has on his payroll.”
“Where are your father’s mages, now?”
“Dealing with the situation… if what Karim said was true, then my father hasn’t been told of what’s happening here, but that won’t last. Captain Greaves will get a message out to him.”
“Greaves?”
“You never met him, but he’s a Psionic and an ex-Navy Seal. He’ll try to contain the situation first. If he can’t, he’ll shoot a telepathic message off to my father with a single thought.”
“Pretty sure the situation has already gone to hell. Your father already knows.”
Axel shook his head. “Greaves is a proud man. We have a little time.”
“I still think I preferred my plan to employ subtlety.”
“Well, this is where we are, now.”
Peering around the corner, I watched one guard shake another one by the shoulders and yell at him to snap out of it. But the other guard was in hysterics, screaming about three headed monsters, blood falling from the sky, and how he didn’t want to die. The doorbell started violently ringing, and all the guards spun around at once, their rifles trailed.
“What the fuck is going on!” one of them yelled.
“Hold your fire!” the commander barked, and he approached the door, his rifle trailed carefully on it.
A chorus of pounding fists then joined the sound of the doorbell, a disjointed cacophony of noise that made it feel like there were ten people on the other side of it, all desperate to get in. When the guard reached the door, he decisively opened it. A cold breeze wafted in from the other side, but there was no one there.
The guards standing by the base of the stairs had all been shaken up by what they’d just seen, but none of them were moving—they were still blocking the way up the stairs.
“Is there another way up?” I asked.
“Of course,” Axel said, “But it’ll take a few minutes for us to go around—this is the most direct route.”
“And the longer we spend navigating the halls, the more likely we’ll be spotted by a guard anyway.” I shook my head. “Dammit, looks like it’s time to go in swinging.”
“I’ll take the two on the left, you take the two on the right?”
I cocked an eyebrow at him and grinned, magic already racing toward me from the Tempest. “That’s the spirit,” I said, and then I took to the corner like I had somewhere important to be, and I hurled a bolt of lighting at the first guard on the left.
The magic struck him in the shoulder, but he spun around like he’d just been smashed with a hammer and fell to the floor. Axel came around behind me and with his right hand snapped an iridescent beam of purple energy into another guard. The guard staggered a few steps back, dropped his gun, and then started barking like a dog. A second shot directly into the chest sent him sprawling to the floor.
Now that they had something to shoot at, the remaining two guards looked a little less panicked. They tried to run for cover behind the marble columns, but Axel and I were too fast for them. We took them both down like we’d planned to do it in synchronicity; streaks of magic erupting from our fingertips and easily finding their marks.
By the time the guard at the door turned around to figure out what the hell had just happened, his men were all down.
“Don’t,” I warned, pointing a finger at him.
The guard hesitated only for an instant, but then he opened fire, his machine gun spitting a hail of bullets in our direction. Unlucky for him, I was already prepared. With a quick-step to get into their path and a wave of my hand, I created a wall of telekinesis that stopped the bullets in the air. The guard looked on, horrified, his eyes wide. The deafening roar of his gun turned to flaccid clicks, his magazine spent, and none of the bullets had touched us.
Beads of sweat popped all along my forehead from the strain of keeping the wall of magic up. I was pushing the boundaries of what I, a mage without a Guardian, could do, and I knew it. But that guard didn’t.
He thought about reaching for his spare clip, I watched his hand twitch toward it. Instead, he bolted out of the open door. He’d obviously had enough of ghosts and mages. Releasing the spell, I let the bullets clatter to the floor like hailstones. “Good choice,” I said.
“That was very impressive,” Axel said.
“Don’t be too impressed. C’mon, we have to get that key.”
Nodding, Axel followed me up the grand staircase to the floor where we’d find Asmodius’ office. The way was clear, and I raced over there, halting as soon as I reached the door and trying the handle. Of course, it was locked, just as we’d thought.
“Keep a lookout,” I said, magic coalescing around my right hand.
A guard came racing down a hallway, sprinting, his eyes wide, his gun gone. Axel snapped a bolt of purple light at him that struck with enough force to send the guard toppling head over heels down the grand staircase. I wondered whether that had been totally necessary, but only for a moment. As soon as my telekinetic blast had charged, I sent it directly into the door.
The force of the blast shattered the lock and splintered the wood, making the door swing open in a wide arc. I dashed inside, heading straight for the huge mahogany desk at the other end of the room and ransacking his desk.
There were papers on it, a keyboard, a computer screen, and a small collection of ornate figurines on it, but no key. Frantic, now, I started pulling drawers open but some of them wouldn’t budge.
“Axel!” I called out, “Where does he keep his keys?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “But I don’t think keys are necessary at this point, do you?”
“Oh… yeah, I guess you’re right.”
I summoned another charge of magic into my hand and blasted the drawer that wouldn’t open so hard the front panel blew right off. I rummaged around inside, pulling everything I could reach with my fingers out and tossing away anything that didn’t look like Becket’s key.
Inside his drawers I found piles of documents and books, ledgers, and trinkets. I wanted to look at all of it, to peer inside the life of one of New York’s most notorious crime bosses, but I didn’t have time.
Finally, my hand clasped what felt like a key. I yanked it out, and my heart leapt. There it was. Cold to the touch, much as it had been the night I stole it from his apartment, and looking like it was probably a few hundred years old.
“Got it!” I said.
“Alright,” Axel said, “Let’s get out of here.”
Together we made a run for the door, bolted out into the corridor, and reached the main stairwell. The house was still in chaos. The lights weren’t back on yet, people were screaming down the corridors, and every once in a while, I’d hear a round of gunfire going off. I had wanted to go in subtly; to analyze the fortress that was chez Asmodius and surgically penetrate its defenses… but Karim was right, this plan had been better.
I took a couple of steps down the staircase when I realized Axel wasn’t following me. “What are you doing?” I asked.
He was looking down a hallway, battling with something in his head. “You go,” he said, turning to look at me. “I need to do something.”
“Do what? We need to get out of here.”
“Just go! Get to the others, I’ll be out in a minute.”
Axel started sprinting down the hallway before I could argue more sense into him. I wanted to go after him, leaving him alone in his house wasn’
t a good idea, but I didn’t know where he’d gone, and once he’d turned a corner, I’d lost him.
“Dammit,” I said under my breath, and then I turned around and stared heading down the stairs again… only to realize someone was waiting for me down there.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Holy shit, you’re a big boy,” I said, but that was an understatement. The guy standing at the foot of the stairwell looked like he’d eaten a tank for dinner. He was all muscle wrapped in a Kevlar suit. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing even more ropy muscle and bulging veins, as well as tattoos. His face was hidden behind a black tactical mask, but I could see his eyes even from where I was standing.
They were strangely bright, alight with predatory intelligence.
He pointed a fat, gloved finger at me. “You’re the one that did this,” he said, his voice gruff and deep.
The tag on his upper-left chest read GREAVES, and I knew I’d just come up against an obstacle I wouldn’t be able to easily hurtle over. “Me?” I asked, pointing at my chest, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you mean the ghosts, no, that wasn’t me.”
I tried to take a step back, up the stairs, but he pulled a pistol out of one of his holsters like his hand was made of lightning and trained it on me. “Not another step,” he warned.
I put my hands up, if only to buy myself a little more time. Axel had to be close enough that stalling was a viable tactic, but right now, I was on my own. Danvers and Karim were, I hoped, guarding our way out, while RJ kept the perimeter clear of snipers. They were all doing their jobs, and that meant I was gonna have to get out of this one without their help.
“Look, I don’t know who you think I am,” I said, “But you’ve got the wrong girl. I was just chilling in my room when the shit hit the fan.”
“Do you think I don’t recognize you, Isabella Warden?” Greaves asked. “Get down here, right now.”
“See, I’m gonna have to decline there, boss. As much as I’d love to hang around and chat, I have an appointment I don’t wanna miss.”
Tightening my grip around the key in my hand, I leapt into a backflip to try and throw his aim off. Greaves’ gun barked loudly, the bullet skimming through my blue hair to take a bite out of the stairs. I landed awkwardly, struggling to find my balance, but before I could do so, more bullets were flying in my direction.
I waved my hand around in front of myself, creating a wall of telekinesis to stop them. It worked. The bullets didn’t touch me, but the bolt of magic that came streaking through the air right behind them did. It struck me square in the chest, sending me staggering back and onto my back.
I opened my eyes, groaning from the pain in my chest, but everything was dark. No, not just dark. The world around me had turned pitch black. I tried to stand, using my hands for support. I could feel the ground beneath them, that cold marble flooring that the mansion seemed to be made of, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t penetrate the darkness around me.
Only that was because there was no real darkness to penetrate.
“You son of a bitch,” I growled, slamming my fist against the floor. “You blinded me?”
Greaves didn’t reply. Clever man. He wanted to keep his profile as slight as possible to make sure I couldn’t hear his approach. My heart thundered against my ears, my chest was throbbing, and there was nothing I could do to clear the blindness up. I’d be able to see again once the spell wore off, or I’d never be able to see again in my life.
We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.
“Alright,” I said, because speaking helped keep the panic at bay, “If that’s how you wanna play it, just imagine how humiliating it’s gonna be when you get your ass kicked by a blind woman.”
I heard what sounded like footsteps, and I snapped my hand toward it like a whip. Magic raced from my fingertips toward the source of the sound, I heard the bolt smash against something solid, but there was no thud, no yelp of pain. I’d missed.
“So,” Greaves said, “The rumors are true... you have no Guardian.”
I tried homing in on the sound of his voice, spinning around rapidly to face it. “Nah, they’ve been feeding you some fresh bullshit. My Guardian is right here, telling me how to kick your ass.”
“If that were true, my spell would’ve had little effect on you. Your Guardian would already be serving as your eyes.”
He was moving left, circling me. I turned slowly to match his movements, keeping his voice in front of me. “You think it makes any difference that you think you know things about me? I’ve taken down bigger assholes than you before.”
“I’m sure you have. Formidable little Isabella Warden. The Wardbreaker. You should know, Asmodius has been informed of your trespassing. When he arrives, he won’t be impressed that you broke into his office and stole from him.”
I shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” I said, and I slammed another stunning spell in Greaves’ direction, this time striking something that sounded like a body… but wasn’t. I felt his power charging up the instant his response to my attack leapt from his fingertips to strike me down. The spell hit me in the shoulder, this time sending me down to the ground and keeping me there.
My entire body had gone numb. I wasn’t sure if I was writhing around in pain or totally still, my muscles frozen solid. The fact that I couldn’t see wasn’t helping with the steadily encroaching dread building inside of my chest, and the stunning spell he’d just hit me was only making things worse.
Greaves approached, his heavy footsteps falling just short of my head. I heard the click as he cocked his gun, readying to make the kill—or at least intimidate me enough that I wouldn’t get up again, even after the spell wore off. In my head, I could hear the sound of my own heartbeat growing faster and harder as the seconds passed.
And then, something else… it wasn’t so much a sound, but a kind of vibration steadily rising. The air turned cold, the temperature around me suddenly plummeting. Slowly, the low rumble I was hearing intensified until it became something like a growl.
Then came the smell.
It was as if a trash monster had breathed its rancid breath right into my face. The worst part was, I couldn’t do anything to protect myself from it. I could only endure and hope I hadn’t started puking my guts out—there’s no way I could’ve known.
Faintly I heard Greaves’ voice, he was shouting at something that had startled him… and now he was fighting with it. Fighting with a demon. That didn’t make sense. Ghosts, sure. Karim had set them all loose on the property. But a demon?
It killed me that I didn’t know what was happening around me. As far as I knew, I was lying on my back on the ground, either as stiff as a board or as sprawled out as a heap of wet spaghetti. Either way, I wasn’t moving… but the blindness spell was starting to wear off. Spots of light were starting to break across my eyes. I was a long way away from being able to see anything clearly, but the fact that it was wearing off gave me hope that I hadn’t been hit with anything permanent.
Around me, a fight was in full swing. I could hear something stomping around, a gun discharging again and again, and more shouting. I tried moving my toes, my fingers. Slowly, I could feel… something coming back. Stunning spells didn’t usually last very long on mages, our bodies were able to recover way more quickly than humans, but if you got hit with one, it usually marked the end of the fight for you.
I was lucky that, slowly, I was starting to feel my extremities again. I was able to see again, but the world around me was blurry and murky. Greaves wasn’t shooting at whatever he was fighting with anymore—he was wrestling with it. And then thing he was wrestling with? Whatever it was, it was tall, impossibly thin, and covered in grey scales that made me think more of cracked, rotting, human flesh than fish scales.
Pointy bones jutted out of its stringy flesh, a crown of black horns adorned its head, and every slam of its fist against a marble column seemed to shake the very mansion itself. It was a thing o
f nightmares, but it was… on my side, somehow. Whatever this monster—this demon—was, it was on my team.
Then the thought hit me.
Becket.
Had he sent this thing to help me fight Greaves off? If he had, then it meant he was able to see me, able to somehow know I was in trouble. It meant he was spying on me, and I didn’t know about it.
The conflict was still in full swing by the time the stunning spell had worn off enough that I could start crawling. Given that Greaves was still pretty busy with the demon tearing the place up, and considering I’d somehow managed to hold onto the key I’d taken from Asmodius’ office, I started moving toward the stairs.
It was a painfully slow process, crawling down a grand staircase headfirst, but I managed to get far enough away from the fight that I almost couldn’t hear it anymore. Once I reached the bottom, my senses had returned enough that I was able to stand and look around. Greaves and the demon had disappeared, and the front door was still open.
I thought about making a run for it, but Karim and Danvers would be there waiting for me by the side door. Using the walls to keep me upright, I stumbled my way down the hallways leading to my designated way out. My head was starting to pound, and I was afraid I’d get lost inside the mansion, or maybe run into an armed guard, but the coast was clear, and I made it to the side door… only to find it empty.
My heart lurched into my throat. I dashed toward the door, almost falling all over myself in order to reach it. Danvers and Karim weren’t there. The door was open, the crisp, evening air wafting through, but my friends were gone. There was no RJ, either, and no Axel.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure which way to go. Maybe they’d gone inside to find me after I’d taken so long to come out. The time we’d expected to spend in this place had more than expired, and even though I’d told them to leave, there was no way Danvers had followed my orders and left me here.
Soul of the Storm (The Wardbreaker Book 2) Page 5
