by Ciara Graves
Shadows emerged from their hands as they stalked closer to Damian.
I could’ve smacked him, but as the shadows filled the corridor, Nor and I sidled along the wall.
I was not leaving without Damian.
We’d get inside, snag Monroe, then grab Damian as we escaped through the portal. It was a shitty plan, but it was all we had.
“I think I got lost,” Damian was saying as the darkness continued to spread. “Made a wrong turn somewhere.” His hands were at his lower back, where two collapsible iron swords were.
Just as Nor and I reached the doors, one of the guards started to turn back toward us.
Damian lunged forward, claiming their full attention. I’d seen enough to know he’d be fine on his own for a minute .
Nor and I slipped into the room.
We kept the doors open so the shadows from the hall seeped in, but they weren’t enough.
As Damian attacked, the two guards in the hall rushed toward him taking the darkness with them, leaving Nor and me completely exposed in the firelight of Monroe’s room.
He stood in front of a hearth with a roaring fire.
The two guards flanked him.
For a solid five seconds, we all stared at each other, wondering who was going to move first.
Monroe opened his mouth—probably to shout.
Nor threw a dagger at him. It slammed into Monroe’s body and drove him backward as the two guards rushed us.
The guard on the right lunged for me, shadows whipping out from his hands, tangling in my legs.
I brought the sledgehammer down on the shadows.
He yelled as they shattered.
I spun around, leaping over the furniture to dodge the next wave of attacks.
From the hallway, Damian growled, but if he was hurt, I couldn’t tell through the solid wall of shadow.
A fist made of shadow crashed into my face, sending me into the wall. A second shadow fist rushed toward me.
I dropped to the floor and it crashed through the stone. I rolled to the side as more fists hit the floor.
Monroe might not have yelled for help, but this fight was surely going to draw attention.
Hefting the sledgehammer over my shoulder, I flipped back to my feet and threw myself at the nefari. The iron head cut through the shadows and crashed into the side of his head.
The combustible spell Gigi placed on it burst to life in an explosion of fire.
The nefari’s head disappeared in a cloud of red mist and bits of bone, while the body was thrown clear across the room.
The blast sent a shockwave that tumbled me backward.
Nor and the guard on the floor were thrown through another set of doors and into a bedchamber.
Monroe’s head hit the stone mantle behind him. He crumbled to the floor.
I winced as I propped myself up. Gigi was going to love it when I told her how well that worked.
Nor grabbed the nefari and threw him into the far wall, knocking him out.
In the corridor, Damian shouted.
I rushed into the hallway, swung the sledgehammer wide and brought it down on a guard’s shoulder. His arm exploded. He clutched at the stump.
I was ready for the shockwave this time, managing to limit it to a small backward slide.
The shadows the nefari had created vanished.
Damian appeared, both swords bloody. The other guard was dead at his feet. “You’re insane.”
“Probably. Let’s move. Monroe’s knocked out.”
“Where’s Nor?”
“Here,” the chief replied, hefting the unconscious Monroe onto his shoulder. He dug in his pocket, and just as he removed the coin, alarm sirens sounded.
Shouts resounded all throughout the mansion. Nor chucked the coin at the wall.
The stones fell away as bright white crackles of magic spread out wider and wider, until the room was filled with a brilliant white light from the portal.
Nor jumped through first, still holding Monroe.
Damian reached out his hand for me so we could go together.
The seconds ticked away.
He went through and was just dragging me with him when something slammed into my back.
I crashed into Damian.
The portal shut behind us cutting off the angry yells of the guards.
We landed in a heap of legs and weapons on the floor of Shep’s bar.
Nor and Monroe stood a few feet away.
Hands reached down to haul me upright and then I was in Rafael’s arms.
I was ready to celebrate our victory, but when his arms closed around my back, I screamed and shoved him away.
The sledgehammer slipped from my grip.
Blood covered Rafael’s hands. He called my name, but the bar was spinning, then I was on my knees.
Rafael came down with me, holding me up as Damian moved to gauge the damage to my back.
I heard something about damned bastards and stitches.
Rafael was telling me to hold on.
Then I was on the floor and nothing else mattered.
Chapter 13
Mercy
My back throbbed.
A hand held mine. I was on my stomach. Rafael was talking.
There was another voice. Damian, I thought at first, then realized it was different. Horace.
We were back at Shep’s. I hadn’t simply imagined we escaped from Sector 2, it seemed. That was a relief, but it only lasted a second, as the pain in my back intensified and I grunted.
“Don’t move.” Rafael knelt by my head. “Lie still. The salve is still working.” He kissed my forehead, his face scrunched in a worried frown. “You just couldn’t make it back without getting hurt, huh?”
“To be fair, we were almost back.”
His scowl argued that wasn’t the point.
“How bad is it?” I attempted to look over my shoulder, wincing as soon as I moved.
“Four slashes running from your shoulders to your lower back. Looks like something clawed you. You didn’t need stitches. Luckily.”
I rested my forehead on my arms. “Yeah, lucky me. Where are the others?”
I was in the back room where Wesley stayed. The sound of wood scraping on wood made me lift my head. Horace pulled a chair over and sat.
“They are currently trying to wake that Monroe guy up,” Horace informed me. “You knocked him out.”
“Not intentionally. That combustion spell packs a punch.”
“So I heard. Nor said it was gruesome. You made one of their heads explode,” Rafael said with a cringe, though he was smiling.
“And arm. Don’t forget the arm,” I muttered, trying to sit up.
Rafael growled and held my shoulders down to the couch.
“Oh come on. I’m fine. It’s just a bit of pain. I can handle pain.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to. Monroe’s not even awake yet.”
“How about we don’t argue with the injured person?”
He didn’t budge. When I pushed up on my elbows again, he merely pulled my arms out. I fell back to the cushions.
I scowled at him. “You’re overreacting.”
“Nah. You push yourself too hard.”
I wasn’t sure where his annoyance was coming from until it hit me. “Damian told you what I did. Rat-face bastard. Why can’t he just keep shit to himself?”
“Because he’s overbearing and annoying,” Horace said with a wink. “Trust me, I get it.”
“You weren’t supposed to use that much magic,” Rafael scolded me, ignoring Horace.
“I didn’t think I did. I’m pretty sure whatever is in that mansion drains power.” I picked at a fuzzy on the arm of the couch. “Did they tell you what else we saw?”
“Lucas and Quin talking about the reapers and locating something.”
I was impressed not to hear a growl in his tone, but when I met Rafael’s eyes, his hatred for Lucas was there all the same.
“I’m glad you didn’t come wit
h us. It was hard enough for me not to attack.”
Rafael said nothing for a long minute, but I knew exactly what he was thinking. We’d go back there, and we’d kill Lucas. One way or another.
I wouldn’t let him do it alone.
Whatever he was thinking, I’d have to keep a close eye on him and not let him take off on his own. We hadn’t been able to sneak in and out of Sector 2 as we’d wanted. They now knew someone had kidnapped Monroe. If we did return, they’d be ready for an attack.
Damian walked in. “How’s your back?”
“Fine. Feel perfect.” I grinned.
He shifted his gaze to Rafael.
“She’s in pain.”
“I’ll be fine. Tell him I’ll be fine. We all know I’ve had worse.” That was the wrong thing to say in front of Rafael and Damian. “Look, they hurt, but I’m not actively bleeding. The salve’s working. Can you, please, just let me get up and join the fun part of this mission?”
“She’s just going to keep asking,” Horace pointed out.
Damian and Rafael turned their glares to him.
He shrugged. “What? She’s like me. She’ll keep asking and when you say no, she’s going to wait until your backs are turned and do it anyway.”
I nodded. “You know I think I’m going to like you.”
“I never should’ve let you two meet,” Damian muttered. “Fine, but you take it easy, got it? If Monroe needs some more roughing up, we’ll take care of it. And you are not to talk at all.”
“Why the hell not?” I argued.
Rafael helped me sit upright. I gasped as the skin on my back tugged open the wounds.
Rafael gave me an ‘I told you so’ look, but I bit back the pain and made it to my feet. My shirt was torn. I’d have to grab a new one eventually, but for now, it was nice not having the fabric brushing over the injuries on my back.
“No talking,” Damian ordered again. “I mean it, Mercy. Let us handle this.”
“Fine, fine, but when you fail, I’ll just be sitting at the bar, enjoying a beer. Watching. Silently.”
Rafael held out his arm. “Always so dramatic.”
I wrapped my fingers around his elbow. “What? I get bored easily. And I was injured. I think I’m allowed to be agitated.”
“What do you think Quin and Lucas were talking about?” he asked quietly as we slowly exited the back room and walked toward the main bar.
“I don’t know for sure. I’d guess artifacts, but could be more sacrifices maybe?”
“Shuval needs eight more rituals. That’s 240 people. There were plenty in Sector 2. Why would they need more?”
“Maybe she needs specific ones? Though it hasn’t seemed that way so far,” I mused.
Monroe better give us something good, was my thought as we joined Shep, Wesley, Sycamore, and Nor in the bar. Damian and Horace came in behind us.
I took a seat at the counter. Shep slid me a beer. I raised my beer in a thank you, then took a couple large gulps.
Monroe was chained to a chair in the center of a cleared area. The windows were all covered, to keep anyone outside from witnessing the interrogation session. One that would probably look more like a torture session.
“Are Bowen and Rufus coming?” I asked Rafael.
“Yeah, should be here soon.” Rafael checked the clock on the wall. “Be nice if they had a productive night.”
One could hope.
Damian and Nor approached Monroe. They seemed to be debating something, when Damian abruptly backhanded Monroe. He merely shrugged as Nor frowned at him.
“What? It worked. See?” Damian motioned to Monroe.
His eyes fluttered open. He jerked his arms, then frantically twisted, trying to get free.
Damian smacked him again.
Monroe stilled, looking around wildly. He tried to yell through the gag, but all that came out was a grunt.
“I’ll take it out, but if you scream, it’s going back in.”
Monroe gulped then nodded, eyes wide. So much for the frightening mage I’d thought he was. His whole body shook, and the second the gag was out of his mouth, he was pleading.
“Just let me go, alright? You don’t want me. I’m not in charge,” he rambled.
Damian and Nor stared him down.
“I mean, I am, but not in the way you think. Please, don’t kill me. I never wanted to be there. I was doing research, right? Really crazy research. Then those bastards Lucas and Quin roped me into this mess. It’s all on them. Just please—”
His words were cut off when Damian shoved the gag back in.
Damian glanced at me.
I couldn’t hide my smirk. “Hey, you didn’t want me to deal with him. Have fun.”
Damian rolled his eyes at me. “Alright, Monroe, I’m going to remove this gag again, and you’re not going to say a damned word until I ask you a question, got it?”
Again, he bobbed his head.
Damian removed the gag.
He opened his mouth, but Damian glowered at him.
He clamped it shut with an audible clack of teeth.
“You said you’re in charge of Sector 2, right?”
Monroe nodded, twisting his hands nervously against the chains on the arms of the chair.
“Who do you report to?”
Monroe’s eyes darted around the room. “Lucas.”
“And who does he report to?”
“Shuval. He’s been working with her for years to gather the resources required for her rituals.”
“Sacrifices,” I snapped. “You mean helping her find people for sacrifices.”
As soon as I said it, a horrible realization hit me.
Rafael clearly came to the same conclusion and was across the room with his hands in Monroe’s robes before anyone could stop him.
Nor snapped his name, but Rafael threw him off and was back on Monroe.
“How long?” Rafael shook him hard. “How long? Damn it.”
“Years, alright? I don’t know exactly, but it’s been years.”
I climbed off my stool and reached for Rafael’s shoulders. “Let him go, Rafael. Now. We need him. You can’t kill him, yet.”
Rafael’s eye twitched, but he backed away.
“Explain everything,” Nor demanded. “Those people at Sector 2 are donors, yes?”
“Yes, and they think they’re going to keep being donors,” Monroe said in a rush. “Every few weeks, hybrids have been coming and collecting thirty donors at a time. They take them away, and they don’t come back. For obvious reasons.”
Rafael’s growl grew louder, but I kept a firm hold on him.
“When was the last group brought in?” Nor asked.
“A few weeks ago. It’s been a while, but we’ve been full up. They’re probably taking them to the other sectors. They don’t always use the ones from ours either. It depends.”
“What did you just say?” I asked, my voice quiet. “What other sectors?”
“The other sectors they’re keeping the donors in.”
“How many?” Damian raised his hand to hit Monroe when he took too long to answer.
“Three! There are three altogether. Look, I don’t know what you’re hoping to get out of me, but I don’t know much.”
“That, I doubt.” Damian raised his hand again.
Monroe flinched. “Wait, just wait! She’s going after the last artifacts,” he spat. “They have most of the locations. Once she has all the artifacts, they’ll clear out the donors in Sector 2 and use them to finish the rituals.”
“And what about the other sectors?”
Monroe shook his head. “I swear, I don’t know.”
“Why would she need that many sacrifices?” I asked. “She doesn’t need to kill that many people, right?”
Damian and Nor came to stand next to me and Rafael.
“Onyx mentioned something about those bastards not waiting for the right time,” Rafael said.
“Time for what though? She doesn’t have to time
it in order to charge the ley lines, does she?”
He shrugged.
A terrifying notion struck me. “This research you were doing, what was it on?”
Monroe fidgeted in his seat, refusing to meet my gaze. I wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed until his eyes bugged and he rasped for me to stop.
“Then tell me what I want to know.”
I released him just enough so he could breathe.
He coughed and sucked in a few breathes, then muttered, “Dragonborn. I’ve been researching their kind. And uh, and the power linked to the Blood Moon.”
“You decided to research all that on your own?”
“No. I was appointed by Quin.”
Sycamore cursed. “Who else?”
“I don’t know, I swear. I’ve always been on my own. Then Quin found me and quietly inducted me into the Gathered. A year after that, Lucas showed up at my home, and then I ended up in Sector 2.”
Monroe’s eyes pleaded for me to believe him and sadly I did. There was no deception on his face, only the desperation to live.
“We’re not finished with you yet,” I warned, then walked away from him. “What the hell are we going to do?”
“This does change things a bit,” Damian said slowly.
“No, it doesn’t.” Rafael scowled. “We bring down Sector 2. You heard him. They have three sectors filled with donors. We shut down one, burn it to the ground, and show Shuval we’re not letting her succeed.”
“We can’t go in there to destroy everything,” Sycamore argued. “Quin Nolan could have multiple mages backing him. If the Gathered have been indeed corrupted, I need proof, solid evidence I can bring to the Gathered. I might have support amongst the Gathered, but Quin Nolan is our appointed leader. I might not be able to sway them without proof.”
Nor crossed his arms, not looking happy at all with how this was turning out. “I think it’s time we bring in more bodies to help fight.”
“You want to tell the Feds?” I asked. “No, we can’t.”
“We’re not going to have much choice soon. For now, I was just thinking of two people.”
Suddenly, we were out of time. Shuval was hunting down the last eight artifacts, five of which were in Bowen’s possession. She had three sectors filled with donors, ready to be sacrificed. She had allied herself with the reapers, the dark covens, and some of the Gathered. Shit, she’d found the nefaries.
