The Demon-Born Trilogy: (Complete Paranormal Fantasy Series)

by L. C. Hibbett

  Cracks began to form around Lizzie’s eyes as she stroked Niamh’s neck with the razor-sharp dagger. Niamh gaped at her sister’s beautiful face in horror as Lizzie’s pale blue eyes dissolved into a pool darkness. She stared down at the glittering pool of blood on the floor, and I saw, for the first time, that the trail led away from the throne, not toward it. Valerie’s body was poker stiff in Sam’s grasp, and her eyes were fixed on a crumpled bundle propped against one of the other chairs.

  “Elizabeth!” Niamh strained to be released from the throne, but she was held fast in the figure’s arm as it slowly revealed its truth. The blade sliced into her throat as she twisted to face the creature holding her in its lap. “Shapeshifting vermin, I should have guessed it was you. Mathas the Betrayer.”

  Mathas clenched his teeth behind his smile as he dug the blade further into Niamh’s flesh and wiggled it playfully. His voice was eerily unchanged, a charming blend of British nobility and wealthy American. “Isn’t that the cursed truth, my dear? After all your centuries of searching, you really should have guessed. But you never did.” The Shifter lifted his gaze to meet Jonah’s and smiled brightly as he raised his knife over Niamh’s craning neck. My shriek split the air as his hand swung downward. “And now it's too late.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Grace

  Jonah’s knife whooshed through the air and embedded itself in Mathas’s forearm. As the Shifter roared, Sam took his chance and Reaped Niamh into his arms. Blood ran down her chest from the gash on her neck, but Niamh seemed oblivious as she dragged her sister’s body across the floor and propped her against the base of the closest throne.

  “Elizabeth?” Niamh cupped Lizzie's bruised face in her hands and started to mutter a charm under her breath. I took hold of Valerie’s shoulders and gently pulled her behind my back as Sam and Jonah stepped forward to face Mathas.

  The Shifter grunted as he yanked the blade free and it clattered onto the marble floor in a shower of scarlet droplets. I stared from the bloody knife to Mathas’s arm and a smirk lifted one side of his mouth. “What’s wrong, Miss Grace? Did you think I wouldn’t bleed?” He wrapped his hand around his forearm and squeezed tightly. Blood oozed through his fingers and dripped onto his immaculate pale gray pants. “I’m just a man, darling. I bleed red, just like you.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Mathas. My stomach shriveled—we had no idea what Mathas was capable of. We needed to escape.

  Behind me, Lizzie moaned, and her eyelids fluttered open. Niamh’s head fell forward onto her older sister’s chest, and a sob escaped from her pale lips. Her voice was thick with unshed tears. “Elizabeth. Gods, Beth, I thought you were gone.”

  Lizzie raised her hands limply to Niamh’s hair and stroked it. “It’s okay, Niamhy. It’s all going to be okay.”

  “Beth.” Niamh pulled back and looked into Lizzie’s face. “I’m so sorry. For not coming sooner. For believing the twisted version of the truth that Mathas fed us. For—everything.”

  Lizzie tried to pull herself into a standing position but her knees buckled, and she landed on the seat of the throne behind her. Small incisions covered every visible inch of skin and wept tears of blood down her shivering arms. She rested her hands against the black stone and shook her head. “No, Niamh, I’m the one who should be sorry. I let my anger and loneliness for home blind me. I let Mathas turn my bitterness on you even though I knew you weren’t to blame.” Her eyes shone like pale-blue moons. “You didn’t know what would happen when we got to this world. You didn’t know what you were asking of me when you insisted I come on your mission.”

  “But I shouldn’t have made them send you with me! You didn’t want to leave home. You had a husband, a baby—my selfish desire to have you by my side on my first mission stole that from you. I can never forgive myself for that, Beth. I never have.” Niamh’s whisper tore at my heart as I watched the tears course down her cheek, her icy façade suddenly crumbling into dust at her feet.

  Lizzie leaned forward and grabbed her sister’s hand, her face alight. “My grief was never your fault. The Veil was not your doing. You did not trap us here—” She glowered across the room at Mathas who was lounging on his throne, blood still seeping from the wound in his forearm. “He did.”

  Mathas wagged one finger at Lizzie. “Hush now, my love. We’ve been over this a thousand times since I brought you to your throne. You’ll come around to the idea soon, my queen, one way or the other.” He slid his gaze over Lizzie’s torn garment, devouring her with his eyes. “This world has been mine in secret for more than two thousand years, but soon we shall reign over a new world. A world where there are no more minions to appease. My power shall be absolute, and all will bow before me, even you.”

  “Never. You have deceived me for centuries but no more.” Lizzie flung herself out her seat and blasted a wave of energy across the room. Mathas leaned back in his throne and inhaled deeply, absorbing Lizzie’s magic. I covered my nose with my hand as the smell of rotting assaulted me.

  Sam appeared at my elbow and caught hold of my hand. He kept watch on the battle unfolding between Lizzie and Mathas out of the corner of his eye as he whispered into my ear. “You need to find the boy, Grace.”

  I nodded and crushed my eyelids together, desperately searching for any trace of the child’s energy. My Seeking power crept into the room, but I couldn’t focus. Mathas and his blackness overwhelmed me. “I can’t, Sam.” My breath was coming in ragged bursts. “It’s too much. I can’t break through.”

  Mathas stood from his throne and swept Lizzie, Niamh, and Jonah to one side with a lash of poisonous energy. His gaze ran over Sam and little Valerie before it landed firmly on my face. “Looking for something, my dear? You want the boy, don’t you? You want to whisk him away to safety with all your little friends.”” I swallowed as Mathas took a step closer and Sam raised his hands higher in the air as if he could shield me from the creeping evil. Mathas’s grinned broadened. “If you want the boy, all you had to do was ask. Peter? Julius? Bring the boy to me.”

  The door swung open, and Peter limped into the room. He was leaning heavily on the same cane he had used when he was impersonating Jasmine and Peter’s uncle at Shadow Hall. I shot a glance at Sam, wondering had he noticed the sudden reappearance of Peter’s injury, but Sam’s eyes were fixed on the figure following Peter into the room.

  My blood froze as the man twisted to examine us. I knew him. The man from the Halfling Elder’s vision. The man from Sam’s story of his childhood. I couldn’t bring myself to think of such a monster as Sam’s father, yet when he turned his emerald gaze on us, there was no mistaking the resemblance. His green eyes narrowed on Sam as he yanked the small blond boy over the threshold by the hair. Sam flinched, and the man chuckled. “Still the same soft fool you were last time we met, Jules.”

  Sam’s throat bobbed. “That’s not my name.”

  The Elder’s smile remained fixed in place but the skin around his eyes tightened, and his grip on the young boy’s hair tightened. The child whimpered, and Sam lurched forward. The Elder shook his head in warning, and Sam ground to a halt. His muscles were clenched so hard that they protruded through his skin. The Elder lifted his chin and looked down at Sam from across the room. “I gave you life, boy, and I gave you a name—what is it?”

  Sam stared at the Elder with an expression I had never seen on his face before. He wasn’t the person I knew—his face suddenly robbed of its color, his hands trembling. I tried to catch hold of Sam so that we could cast our net over the boy and flee but his fingers slipped limply through mine, his magic shrouded in fear. The Elder lifted his arm so that the small boy had to stand on tip-toe, almost dangling by his hair. Sam's voice burst from his lips. “Julius. My name is Julius. I have my father’s name.”

  Sam’s father released the child’s hair with a sneer. “That’s right, you little shit. You have my name, but still no cock if that display is anything to go by. Broken like a little girl. If you
didn’t have something we need, I’d slit your throat myself to save everyone the misery of having to look at your pathetic face.”

  Rage exploded like a volcano in my stomach. I pushed myself in front of Sam and lashed my whip against his cheek, Spirit Light blazing through the air as it connected with his flesh. My cheek stung as if I had lashed my own face as the Elders’ protection charm took hold. While Mathas was distracted by the display, Lizzie swept the small boy from the floor and gathered Valerie to her side. My chest heaved as I faced Julius and my words hissed through gritted teeth. “You have no right to speak to him. He is not your son. He is nothing like you.”

  I flicked my whip through the air again, but this time, Julius caught the end of it and held it tightly inside his fist. The smell of our burning flesh filled the room, but the Elder didn’t even flinch. He wrapped his hand around the end of the whip, yanking me closer to him. “You’re one to speak of rights, daughter of whores. How dare you raise a weapon to a man of my standing. Before this day is done, you will fall on your knees and worship me in whatever way I see fit.”

  Streaks of light whizzed past my face and coiled tightly around the Elder’s neck. He released my whip and began to scrape desperately at the chains constricting his breathing. I spun around and saw Jonah struggling to gather his own breath. Sam’s face was ashen as he stared from his father to Jonah. His voice was weak. “The charms to protect the Veil—whatever Jonah does to an Elder, he does to himself also.”

  Peter began screaming at Mathas. “The Veil, Master, if Julius is lost, we will be weakened further.”

  Mathas barely seemed to hear Peter’s wailing as he stared from Jonah to Julius with morbid curiosity. Niamh flew across the floor and grabbed Sam and me by the shoulders. Her hair spun wildly around her face, and the blood pumping through her veins warmed her complexion. She dug her fingernails into my flesh. “When the cracks appear, go. Do you hear me? Take Elizabeth and the children and get them to safety. Do not look back. Do not waver. You will get one precious chance, do not waste it.”

  My mouth fell open as she slipped away from us. She placed her hands on Jonah’s chest and nodded. Jonah uncurled his fists, and with a shuddering gasp, Julius fell to the floor, coughing and heaving.

  Jonah sagged forward against Niamh’s shoulder, and she whispered into his ear, her hands flowing gently over his skin. His back straightened and he glanced over his shoulder at us with a crooked smile. “Farewell, children. I hope my father was right.” His gaze landed on Lizzie and a furrow formed between his brows. “Tell Gabriel . . . that he is everything we had hoped he would be, Niamh and I.”

  Lizzie’s mouth fell open, and she reached for her sister, but Niamh shook her head. “This was always my path, Beth, though I never understood it until now. If we can do nothing else to atone for our foolish innocence, we can do this.”

  As though he had been struck by lightning, Mathas shot from his throne, screaming at Julius and Peter to restrain the Demons. “The city, you fools, they wish to destroy our city.”

  Jonah and Niamh smiled at each other as Jonah slipped a strange blade from his belt. The blade was long and thin and had no handle—each end was as sharp as the other. Jonah’s word rang clearly as Niamh began to hum, lyrics to the melody of her visions. “This was never your city, Mathas, it was ours. May our wrongs ever be undone.”

  Mathas and the Elders raised their hands to their faces as Niamh’s music grew louder, holding them captive in her vision. Its haunting tones crept inside my mind and seeped into my bones. I felt the world begin to slip away, but Sam held me fast in his arms. He whispered into my ear, and my magic rushed to connect with his, spinning the golden threads around our ragged little group.

  I felt as though I was watching the scene unfolded from a distance. Jonah stood face to face with Niamh as she trapped the Elders in her song. He pressed one tip of the double-ended blade against his chest and the other against Niamh’s. My heart dropped into my stomach, but Niamh stared into his eyes lovingly as her song ended. She glanced over her shoulder as the Elders began to stir and mouthed something to Lizzie in a language I didn’t understand. Her gaze flickered to me, and I felt the seed of a vision bloom behind my eyes as she turned back to Jonah.

  Mathas roared as Niamh threw herself against Jonah’s body with brute force, her lips crushing his as the blade vanished into her flesh. Blood ran from the corners of their lips but they didn’t release each other. As their life force began to fade, I saw the first crack appear in the walls.

  “Now, Grace, now!” I wasn’t sure if Sam was really shouting or if it was just inside my head, but I responded, wrapping my energy around his just in time to escape Mathas and the Elders as they descended on us. I felt the brush of Julius’s fingertips and the glancing blow of a falling piece of stone as we spun away from the stench of the decaying city and through space. As we flew, Niamh’s vision unfolded in my heart like a flower.

  One final gift.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Grace

  “This feels wrong.” I pulled awkwardly at the hem of the short white dress that Lucas’s mother had found for me and met Eve’s eye in the mirror. “We shouldn’t be celebrating Esbat, Eve. People are dead—Eli, Niamh, Jonah, Anna. So many people. It’s not respectful. We should just focus on preparing for tomorrow’s battle.”

  Eve released the last bobby pin from between her teeth and secured the crown of coiled hair on top of my head. She stood back to admire her handiwork, pursing her lipstick-stained mouth. “Jasmine and Elizabeth both agreed with Lucas and Brandon’s suggestion, Grace. They want to celebrate the lives of those who have been lost. And I think it’s a good idea.” I raised one eyebrow and Eve tilted her head to one side. “If we lose heart now, we will have no chance of success tomorrow, Grace. It’s not a game, we cannot lose.”

  “I know it’s not a game? Why does everyone always assume I don’t believe this is serious?” I stamped my foot into a pair of trainers, shunning the dainty sandal’s Camille had left for me. “I have killed people in cold blood, I have watched my friends die, I see Sam suffering in silence since he had to face that animal who calls himself a father—I get that this shit is real. I get it. And I am terrified.”

  My voice cracked, and I sat down heavily on the creaky wooden bed I had been sharing with Dawn. Eve eased herself down onto the mattress beside me. My throat closed around my words, softening them to a whisper. “I’m so scared, Eve. We have no idea what we’re facing. If it was just the Elders . . . But Mathas has been feeding on the power of the Veil for two thousand years—how do we fight that? How do we fight him and the Elders? And their Demon-Born Hounds? How can we win? The seven of us with the Lost Powers are supposed to beat the Elders with our super, combined strengths, but that kid—Zach—can barely stop shaking long enough to light a match. Fire gift my ass.”

  “I know it feels impossible, Grace.” Eve stroked the inside of my wrist with her thumb. “But we have a better chance now than we could ever have hoped for. Niamh and Jonah destroying the city has given us a huge advantage—Mathas and the Elders have lost their stronghold. More than half of their army fled as soon as the barrier collapsed around the city, and the Angelic Council have received reports from their sources in Canada that the even the Angels who pledged their loyalty to the Elders and who took them in and are housing their Hounds are beginning to waver.”

  I craned my neck to get a clear view of her face. “Do you think we can beat them?”

  Eve exhaled slowly. “I believe we have a chance, Grace. I believe that Jonah’s father saw something that made him leave his prophecy for us and it hasn’t led us wrong yet. And I believe in you. And these Shadow Children.” She leaned forward and cupped my chin in her hand. “And I want, very badly, for us to beat the bastards.”

  My head fell forward onto her shoulder as I snuffled and grinned simultaneously. I raised my voice in a poor imitation of her tone. “Eve, please don’t use that language!”

  I fel
t her smile against my cheek, but I didn’t pull back to see it. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the warmth of this rare embrace. The memory of the last vision Niamh had given me plucked at my brain. An image of a petite woman with flowing copper hair flowed through my mind, a weapons belt on her hip and a dark, handsome man by her side. Behind her, stood two other figures—a woman with wild black curls and a man with fair hair. Dawn, Ozzie, Valerie, and Zach. I called their names silently, as if my voice could reach into the future to the warriors Niamh’s vision had hinted they might become.

  “Even if we do win, that doesn’t mean the battles will be over.” My words were muffled by Eve’s shoulder but she somehow deciphered their meaning.

  “True, Grace. If we win and the Veil falls, the world is going to change. Rapidly. I don’t know how the Humans will react to the sudden revelation of magic and the Hidden World. I hope most would be as open as Brandon has been, but I suspect he’s quite exceptional—for any race,” Eve said. “But the Human’s deserve a chance to prove themselves. They deserve a world where they are not deceived and blinded. They deserve a chance to live.”

  I took a deep breath and dragged myself from the warmth of Eve’s shoulder. My hands wiped roughly at my cheeks, attempting to dislodge any traces of mascara. “And we’re the only ones who can give them that chance. I get it.”

  “You do. I know that. And now, we better get down to that bonfire. All your friends went down ages ago.” Eve placed both hands on either side of my head and stared into my eyes. “I am proud of you, Grace. And of Cat and Dawn. I am proud of you all.”

  She pressed a heavy kiss onto my hairline and disappeared from the room before I could respond to her uncharacteristic burst of affection. I stared at the open door and watched it sway. Neither of us had mentioned the final line of the prophecy. I took another deep breath and headed down the stairs.