by Ciara Graves
Damian gave me a long look that informed me this conversation was far from over, then whirled around to deal with his brother. “I need the med kit.”
A tiny voice in the back of my mind told me not to help him, but when he removed his brother’s cloak, and the extent of his wound was visible, I sprung to action.
By the time I came back with the kit, Nor and Rafael were having a demon stare-down. Horace was unconscious. Damian had his hands on his brother’s chest, putting as much pressure as he could on the wound.
As I worked with Damian to get Horace stable, it was like we’d fallen back to the good old days when we’d patch each other up.
“You’re going to tell me everything that happened while I was gone.” He didn’t look at me.
His anger flowed off him only to crash into mine.
“After you tell me where you’ve been for a month. And why you never told me you have a brother.”
His hands paused. “It’s going to be a long night.”
“No shit,” I replied hotly, my own hands covered in the blood of a man I never knew existed, sitting next to someone I never thought I could be pissed at enough I wanted to shoot, then bring him back to life, just so I could shoot him again.
Long night didn’t begin to cover what was about to go down.
“You did what?” Damian bellowed. “I told you not to leave. I told you to stay here and what do you do? You go traipsing off to Sector 13 and—did you say you blew up a hotel?”
“Technically, that was Rufus.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t care who actually blew up the hotel, Mercy. The point is why were you there, to begin with? What do you think is going to come from pissing off the dark covens? Like you don’t have enough trouble coming for you already.”
I stomped away. I’d barely managed to get out that we had to go there to save Gigi when Damian started shouting.
I could only yell back, not sure why he was so ticked off at me for saving my friend. I hadn’t even gotten to the good parts yet.
I rubbed my scarred cheek, cringing at the burn that had only gotten worse as the argument intensified.
“I’m assuming Gigi’s alright?” he muttered.
“She’s fine, but she wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t gone. We didn’t plan on being spotted by Envy—”
“Envy?” Damian snapped.
I chewed on my lip. “Yeah, he was there. I’m pretty sure Shuval was, too.”
Damian’s face went dangerously blank.
I wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
He lunged past me, his fist heading toward Rafael’s face. “You are supposed to protect her, not drag her into Sector 13 where Shuval happened to be. ” He proceeded to use Rafael as a punching bag.
Rafael blocked Damian, not saying a word. He took Damian’s anger just as he usually took mine.
I might not be Damian’s biological daughter, but it wasn’t hard to guess where my temper came from.
Nor rushed over to pull Damian off Rafael. He threw him to the side. “Get a hold of yourself.”
“What is wrong with you?” Damian snarled, whirling around to face me again. “Envy almost got you again, didn’t he? He nearly killed you. Mercy, what do I have to do to make you understand how serious this is?”
“Me? Don’t you dare.” I shoved him away from me. “Don’t you dare stand there and ask me that question. You bastard. All you’ve done is lie to me and keep me in the dark! How much more shit is going to fall on me, huh? How much?”
I pushed him.
He tried to grab my hands, but I slipped from his grasp and punched him as hard as I could. His head flew to the right and blood spurted from his lip. I followed it up with a second hit.
Rafael called my name, but I pushed on.
“You and Nor have been working together all this time. How could you not tell me?”
Damian wiped the blood from his face and opened his mouth to reply.
My fist cut off whatever excuse he was going to give me this time.
“Then you up and leave me without any idea of what the hell you’re doing. I thought you were dead.” I hit him again. “I thought Shuval was going to deliver your body to me in pieces. Do you have any idea what I went through waiting to hear from you? And you have a brother. And, gods, Damian, what do you want me to think? I’m tired, alright? I’m tired of all the surprises. I’m tired of these assholes trying to kill me and you and everyone else lying to me.”
My anger exploding, I attacked Damian, determined to beat sense into him. I only landed two more hits to his gut, then he was easily blocking me as if he’d been simply letting me get hits in earlier.
That only pissed me off more, but he grappled for my hands then held me to him.
“Mercy, enough. Enough. I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry.”
I went limp in his arms, still mad, but the fight out of me. He was back. He was alive. I should be grateful they hadn’t run into Shuval.
“You have to stop lying to me,” I whispered as he let me go. “No more. I can’t have a chance in hell of beating whatever’s going to hit us if I don’t know everything.”
He ran a hand down his face, bags under his eyes. On his cheeks were a series of bruises that were only a couple of days old. This all spoke to the fact that the past month hadn’t been easy for him.
“Get the good stuff and some glasses. You want to know everything,” he said quietly, looking like he was about to regret this whole night, “then I’ll tell you everything.”
We both turned toward the bedroom door where Horace rested, recovering from his wounds.
I blew out a breath, my fists throbbing now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
“Damian?”
He shifted his gaze back to me.
“I’m glad you’re alive.”
He pulled me into a tight one-armed hug. “Me too. With any luck, we’ll keep us all alive.”
I wanted to believe his words, but his tone was anything but hopeful.
Whatever they found out on their trip to—I think—find his brother, it didn’t bode well for us.
What a damned surprise that was.
Chapter 8
Rafael
Damian went to check on Horace. Mercy walked to the kitchen to fetch drinks. I was left alone with Nor. Neither of us moved.
With each passing second, I felt my own outburst building. Nor had lied. Just as Damian had. He lied to me about everything.
“Well?” Nor finally asked.
“Well, what?”
He motioned his hand around the room. “You going to try and hit me, too?”
“I should. Gods know, I should, after the shit you kept from me. You’re just as bad as he is. Worse even.”
Nor leaned against the wall behind him, crossing his arms. “I didn’t know you would get pulled in this deep. That you would…” He trailed off with a furrowed brow.
“That I’d fall in love with the half-mage, half-dragon bounty hunter?”
“Yes, that.”
“I almost killed her,” I informed him. “I found out what she was and I held a gun to her head.” My hands trembled, remembering that night all too vividly.
Nor’s eyes widened slightly, but that was his only reaction.
“I was told all these years that dragons are the bad guys. Then the woman I love turns out to be one. And the kicker is that you’ve known. You’ve always known. You’ve been working with Damian this whole time, haven’t you.”
He hung his head. “It’s complicated.”
“You think? Why wouldn’t you tell me the truth?”
“I told you I expected you to be kept busy tracking Mercy. Not get so involved in her life. Now that you are, I realize I might’ve made a mistake.”
I barked a laugh. “Might’ve? You and Damian deserve each other.”
“Don’t take that tone with me,” he snapped as he pushed off the wall and stormed toward me. “You think Damian and Mercy are the only o
nes who have lost family members to Shovel?”
I wasn’t sure what he meant until I caught the deep-seated sorrow in his gaze.
“You had a family,” I uttered.
His jaw clenched.
I sighed, knowing exactly how Mercy felt now. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this the second Mercy entered my life? Why?”
“You had your own issues.”
“I got over what happened to me,” I argued. “Are there others? Or is it just you?”
Nor opened his mouth, closed it, then said, “Jeremy.”
“Him? He’s clueless.”
“Puts on a good show, but he’s a damned good agent. And I didn’t tell you because I was trying to keep you out of it. As I said, I might’ve made a mistake.” He looked around, then continued. “Damian cares for Mercy like a daughter. And you? You’ve been like a son to me since I brought you to the agency. The last thing I wanted was for you to get involved a fight that wasn’t yours.”
“It’s been mine since I met Mercy,” I told him quietly. “And I’m not going anywhere. She needs me. I need her.”
“You’re doing a hell of a job keeping her safe,” he spat. “What were you thinking, letting her drag you into Sector 13?”
“You honestly believe she would’ve stayed behind?”
“You could’ve locked her up.”
“Yeah. And have her break out, then try to kill me for locking her up.” I turned away.
As much danger as we’d been in, going to find Gigi was what gave us a chance to figure out what was important in our lives.
Even when we said we were finished, I risked my life for her, as she did for me. Even Wesley said Mercy and I were meant to be together, so we could face this evil, together. There was no going back now.
My only regret was I waited too damned long to admit how much Mercy meant to me.
“Envy’s stronger.” I kept my back to Nor as I spoke. “After what we did to him, he should’ve died, but he didn’t. Mercy and I took out a couple of hybrids, the rest got away. And last we heard, the dark covens vacated Sector 13.”
“Who are you getting intel from?” Nor asked, falling back into chief mode.
I wasn’t about to keep taking orders from him, but if he was laying all his cards on the table, I had to do the same. “Gigi has a contact named Onyx. There’s been no word from her in the last couple weeks, though. By the way, the reapers are allying with Shuval.”
“We know,” Damian said as he joined us.
Horace was with him, though he was pale and shuffled his feet as he made it to the couch and plopped down.
Damian shook his head. “Stubborn bastard insists on being here.”
Horace smiled through a grimace as he adjusted his position on the couch. “Can’t miss out on all the fun.”
I turned to Damian. “How do you know that the reapers are allying with Shuval?”
“Because of me,” Horace answered for him. “Boy, I could use a drink.”
Damian gave his brother a dirty look just as Mercy returned with a bottle and four glasses.
She poured them full, handed them out, then kept the bottle in her hand.
I gave her a look when she tipped the bottle to her lips.
“What? This is a suitable drinking vessel. No judging.”
I sipped the harsh liquor and waited for Damian and Nor to fill us in.
They exchanged a look, then Damian sat in one of the armchairs, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared into his glass.
“Horace has been undercover for the last ten years,” Damian told us. “I told you we gave up on actively trying to stop Shuval, but not all of us did. Horace found an in with her soldiers. He’s been rising in the ranks ever since, gathering information and getting it to me or Nor.”
Mercy nodded slowly. “And you didn’t think to mention this when you were telling me about my family and yourself?” She waved her hand, but it wasn’t a nonchalant wave. “And everything else that you told me.”
“I didn’t want to risk his cover. He’s in deep. Or was,” Damian muttered.
Horace shrugged. “Not my fault they figured me out.”
“Yeah, actually. It is, dumbass,” Damian snapped. “You’re the one that practically sent out an announcement that proclaimed: Hey guys, I’m right here. A spy for the enemy. Come and get me.”
Horace tilted his head back and forth. “Not like I had much choice.”
“You did; that’s the problem.”
Mercy stepped between them, blocking them from each other. “What did you do?” she asked Horace.
“Only those Shuval trusts attend the sacrifices,” Horace said, his tone dark.
His gaze took on a faraway look. After nearly witnessing one of the ley line sacrifices, I didn’t have to imagine what horror he saw.
He continued, “They trusted me, even though I’m not a hybrid. They let me come with them.”
“And you just had to be a damned hero.”
Horace’s face contorted as he pitched his glass to the floor, where it shattered against the hardwood. “You would’ve done the same exact thing if you were there.” He planted his hand on his wound, grumbling and cringing with pain.
“Did you try and stop them?” I asked, hoping to get him back on track.
“Try. That’s the keyword.” He scoffed and ran his hands through his shaggy brown hair. “I attempted to disrupt the ritual, but there were too many hybrids there. They saw me tweaking the stones on the ground.”
“You knew they were performing these sacrifices the whole time you were with them,” I said slowly. “Why did you only try to stop this one?”
“Because I was there.” He swung his legs around, letting his feet rest on the floor. “And because I had just learned how many artifacts Shuval had already used. How many lives had been lost to her madness.”
“How many?” Mercy demanded.
None of them answered her question. Her grip on the bottle turned white-knuckled.
“I said how many?”
“That night marked number forty-two,” Horace replied, his tone rough. “Forty-two artifacts that she’s used to power the ley lines.”
Mercy’s face paled, making her scar stand out as she turned to me. “We have five.”
“Which means she’s only missing three more.” The realization was disconcerting.
Damn it. How had we missed so many? We were just too late to the game. There was no chance of catching up and stopping her. Once she finished charging the ley lines, she would be ready for the Blood Moon. She’d turn who knew how many of her followers into hybrids.
I turned to Nor and Damian. “Do we know where they are? The other three?”
Nor shook his head. “We fear she already has them.”
“You don’t know?” Mercy yelled. “You were gone for a month.”
“We were on the run,” Damian explained, no longer sounding angry. “Horace was watched closely after that night. They grew suspicious, and when they caught him trying to send me a message, they attacked. We found him in one of our designated safe houses, but they’d followed. There was a fight. That’s where he was stabbed.”
“That wound looks fresh,” I pointed out.
“It is. We barely made it to the transport and got here in one piece.” Damian held up his hand as Mercy opened her mouth. “We weren’t followed. We made certain of it.”
I glanced at Nor for clarification. “I disabled the transport. It’ll have to be reset. They won’t be able to tell we came here.”
“Do they know who you are?” Mercy asked.
Horace stood with some effort as he said, “No. I went by a different name.”
“We have about four months to stop Shuval.” Mercy drank from the bottle then handed it to Horace when he eyed it. “What are we going to do?”
Nor, who always had a plan, appeared at a loss. Damian was the same. Horace was too busy chugging the rest of the bottle to be of any use.
Shuval would be
coming after the artifacts. Guarding them had to be a top priority, which meant our plan to go after the reapers would have to wait.
Keeping Mercy out of Shuval’s grasp was another priority, along with stopping Envy or whatever hybrid was tormenting her with nightmares.
Then there was Franklin Monroe. Damian had given me the name. I assumed he had information on him that might help us track the mystery man down.
“I’m getting a beer,” Mercy announced, glowering at Horace who now held the empty bottle.
“I’ll come with you,” he chimed in. “About time I get to know the infamous Mercy.”
It looked like speaking with him was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t argue, and they left the room. The question about Monroe was on my tongue when a crash came from the kitchen.
A split second later, Horace was thrown back into the sitting room.
Mercy shouted. As I rushed toward the door, she crashed into me, sending us both to the floor in a pile of tangled limbs.
“I thought you said you weren’t followed,” she yelled at Damian.
“We weren’t.”
“Tell that to them.”
Four figures strode into the room, all with small horns on their heads, elongated pupils, and protruding fangs. Hardened bits of bone protruded from their faces around their eyes and jaws.
Damn. Dragons.
Suddenly, it was on. All hell seemed to break loose.
Mercy reached for her gun.
The first dragon kicked it out of her hand and grabbed her by the shoulders. She kicked him in the side.
A second dragon charged me. I brought my arm up in time to stop his claws from slashing my face.
Nor and Damian engaged the other two as they yelled at Horace to get to the bedroom and barricade the door. He darted toward the other room.
I caught a fist in the face. Snarling, I bashed my horns into the dragon’s face. He staggered back.
I followed it up with a fist, then a kick to his gut that shoved him into the one fighting Mercy.
“You good?” I asked her.
Before she could answer, her attacker was back on her. The other one was now in front of me again, his ugly face scowling, teeth gleaming.
