The Dark Lands (Angelbound Origins Book 5)

by Christina Bauer

  Speaking of being mobbed, there’s no one around on the farm today. Which leads to another conclusion. “The Enmity brothers don’t know I’m joining you, do they?”

  Walker shakes his head. “This isn’t an official visit. I thought surprise might help loosen their tongues.” He tries to smile again. It only makes him look more miserable.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get them to blab about the Lucifer thingy.” I scratch my cheek. “How else can I help?”

  “I’d hoped you and Lincoln could be my back-up for saving Drayden. I only have a short time window in which to rescue him. If anything goes wrong, I need you and Lincoln to be available.” Walker takes off his watch and offers it to me. “All you need to know is loaded on this device.”

  I take the watch from Walker’s hand. A series of images appear on the small screen. There’s a shield with a pattern of three feathers, a labyrinth map, and a massive gothic mansion surrounded by a funky gate. Interesting.

  Walker speaks two words. “Alarm set.”

  With that, a flash of purple light bursts from the device, followed by a poof of violet smoke. I hold the watch away from me like it’s infected with plague. I’ve seen this flash-poof scenario before. A spell is at work. And not just any magic, mind you. This watch just poofed out a purple spell from the House of Striga. Thrax society is divided up into houses, and Striga has the best warlocks and witches around.

  Still gripping the watch by its band, I let the device dangle from my fingertips. “What just happened here?”

  “The watch is loaded with a few spells. I activated one to alert you in case anything goes wrong on my mission to save Drayden. And if things do go wrong, that device will give you a countdown until the poison kills Drayden. You must save him before then.”

  The world seems to pause as I soak in every aspect of my honorary brother, from his wide and capable hands to his large all-black eyes. He needs to save his Drayden. And to do that, Walker must go into hiding forever.

  That can’t be right.

  Walker nods to the farmhouse. “We should head over.”

  My mind turns foggy. Things are happening so quickly and this is a huge decision. “Can’t we wait a few minutes?” My voice comes out with a desperate edge, and I don’t care. “Lincoln is meeting us here. Maybe he can help you plan.”

  “Trust me, I’ve looked at this from every angle. First, you must discover exactly what the dangerous object is from the Enmity brothers. Second, I’ll save Drayden. Third, I go into hiding. If all proceeds according to schedule, then that watch will tell time only. But if anything goes ill, that device will start a countdown, as well as display all the data you need to help Drayden. Will you assist him? I need to hear you say the words.”

  I purse my lips and tilt my head, which is my classic thinking pose. Walker wants my help. That’s all I need to know, really. And there’s no question in my mind; Lincoln will feel the same way, too. Straightening my shoulders, I meet Walker’s worried gaze straight on.

  “I hereby make this solemn promise.” I raise the watch by its band. “If a countdown appears on this thingy, then Lincoln and I will save Drayden before the time runs out. We’ll also make sure you’re safe and sound. And whatever’s hurting you both? We will track that shit down and kick its ass. Hard.”

  Walker exhales. “That’s more than I asked for but … thank you. And I’m afraid some parts of saving Drayden may need your creative touch.”

  Meaning he doesn’t know how to do it. “Bah. I’ll figure it out.” Hopefully.

  “Thank you once again.”

  “I have conditions, though.”

  “Which are?”

  “I fully expect you to be in touch from your disappearing place.” I make little air quotes with my fingers when I say the words disappearing place. “Maybe you can pick somewhere warm that Lincoln and I can visit, like a beach?”

  The look on Walker’s face turns unreadable. “I’m not going to a beach.”

  I tap the watch face. “Yet the details about your final location are in here somewhere.”

  “Only if things go wrong, Myla. Don’t get any ideas.”

  “You know me.” I shrug. “I have ideas.”

  “Please don’t waste your time. There’s no way to break the information locking spells loaded on that watch.”

  Bah. If Walker’s hiding place is loaded in this watch, then I’ll find him somehow. Besides, Walker’s done sneaky stuff before and has had to go into hiding. He always turns up eventually. My honorary older brother is filled with big secrets and extra abilities. I don’t put limits on the guy. Ever.

  With my promise made, I wrap the massive watch around my wrist. The small square screen flashes.

  10:21 a.m.

  I hitch my thumb toward the farmhouse. “Let’s do this.”

  “That’s my Myla.”

  Walker and I resume our march along the path to Enmity Farms. This time, I take care to go slowly, considering how Walker’s still limping. Soon the sight of his pained gait gets to me. I’m part Furor demon, which means I have powers over two mortal sins: lust and wrath. Just knowing that someone hurt Walker? My inner wrath demon seethes with white-hot fury.

  Whoever hurt my honorary brother, they will pay.

  Minutes later, the main house of Enmity Farms looms just ahead. Up close, the place looks like it fell out of the movie, Gone With The Wind. I’m talking pale wooden siding, tall white columns out front, wrap-around porch, the whole plantation named Tara dealy-yo-yo. Which is totally unusual for Purgatory. Most of our buildings are run-down piles of crapola.

  The white mansion gleams pristinely in the morning light. While the front porch is empty, vague shapes shift behind the large bay windows. The Enmity brothers are most definitely at home.

  Perfect.

  I pause for a weapons check. Sure enough, my baculum rods are in their proper place, strapped into a holster at the base of my spine. The cool metal feels chilly against my fingertips.

  Yes.

  Since I’m part archangel, I can ignite baculum into any number of weapons made from angel fire. I glance over my shoulder at Walker.

  “You got yours?” I ask.

  There’s no need to say anything more; Walker knows exactly what I’m talking about. After all, he’s part archangel too. “I do.”

  “Good,” I lower my voice to a hush. “Because if half the things I’ve heard about these brothers are true, we might be in for a fight.”

  The distinct sound of a throat clearing fills the air. Turning around, I face Purgatory Tara once more. Only now, the wide front porch is filled with seven stout men with red hair, full beards, and scorpion tails. And they way they’re all glaring at Walker? Clearly, these quasis are not ghoul lovers. Even worse, the Enmity brothers’ demonic power is wrath. It doesn’t take them much to go from zero to kill zone.

  A smile automatically curves my mouth. These days, I may be a queen, mother, and demi-goddess, but in my heart, I’m still an Arena fighter.

  If these Enmity brothers want trouble, that’s fine with me.

  Chapter 6

  The seven brothers keep glaring at Walker. All of them wear jeans, work boots, and green t-shirts with Enmity Farms written across their barrel chests in loopy cursive. They appear to be in their twenties. Someone was a busy mom. One brother—the only guy who’s bald—steps forward. He points at Walker and speaks in a deep voice. “Ghouls aren’t welcome here.”

  Rude.

  After insulting Walker, the guy turns to me and grins. “Oh Scala Mother, you honor us with your unexpected presence.”

  Walker takes a half-step backward. “Perhaps it’s best if I leave.”

  “Nope. Don’t go anywhere.” It doesn’t shock me that the Enmity brothers want Walker gone. Most quasis hate ghouls. That said, Walker’s on a time crunch. He’ll get info fastest by staying here. I won’t waste precious minutes because these new dudes are carrying old grudges.

  Slapping on my best smile, I give a hear
ty wave. “How about a quick chat?” I focus mostly on the bald guy, since I’m guessing he runs the show.

  Crickets.

  Actually, crickets would suggest some kind of sound instead of the perfect silence that now surrounds us.

  I force my smile to widen. “I said, how about we talk?”

  The Enmity brothers keep right on glaring at Walker. Only now, their irises glow red with demonic energy. Combine those death stares with their green shirts, barrel chests, red beards, and matching tails, and it’s like I’m trapped in an evil young Santa Claus convention.

  Time to pull the deity card.

  I stagger backward. “Wait a moment, I’m getting a message from the beyond.” The Enmity brothers share a surprised look or two.

  “Oh, Great Scala,” says Walker in his most worshipful voice. “Are you receiving a message from your magical igni by chance?”

  “Why, yes. I most certainly am.”

  “What an honor!” Walker grips his hands together below his chin. “Your igni are nothing less than magical bolts of power that move souls to Heaven or Hell. Pray tell, will they now grace us with visit?”

  Walker’s laying it on rather thick, considering how my igni rarely do anything I ask of them. That said, the Enmity brothers don’t know igni are total flakes. At the moment, all those unfriendly worm farmers are slack-jawed with awe.

  My igni simply must appear.

  I can only hope they’ll do as requested.

  For once.

  Closing my eyes, I sway from foot to foot. When I next speak, I take care to use a dreamy voice. “Yes, the igni doth speak to me.” Not sure if doth is a word, but I’m feeling it.

  “What do they say, Great Scala?” asks Walker breathlessly. “Is there a soul nearby that you should transport up to Heaven … or must you open a vast pit to Hell?” Walker should do amateur theater. My honorary brother really sells the words vast pit to Hell.

  “Huzzah!” I raise my arms. “The igni are on their way!”

  In all honestly, there’s a fifty-fifty chance the igni will appear, no matter how much I beg. But if they do materialize, it’s always a crowd pleaser. And if they don’t, I still have the baculum and fighting option.

  Either way, it’s really a win-win.

  With my eyes still closed, I call out in my mind to my tiny supernatural buddies.

  Come here, little ones. Make yourselves visible.

  Instantly, the sounds of childlike laughter fill my head, a noise that only I can hear. Excellent. These are the voices of light igni, the small bolts of power that move souls to Heaven. Even better, they’re responding right away. My lucky day. I should buy a lottery ticket or something.

  Opening my eyes, I find a dozen small lighting bolts swimming in the air above my hands.

  Good.

  Considering how all the Enmity brothers are panting with amazement, it’s clear the igni are visible to everyone.

  Even better.

  I tilt my right ear toward the igni, as if listening to their instructions. “What’s that you say?” I nod as if their gibberish makes sense. Then I return my attention to the googly-eyed Enmity brothers. “The igni wish me to chat up your leader.”

  At this, the bald Enmity brother takes another step forward. Things are going so well, I could almost rub my palms together and say mwah-hah-hah. I don’t, though. Now that I’m queen, I’m trying to be mature. That said, I’m still in my teen years, so I don’t try too hard.

  The bald Enmity dude waves in my direction. “I’m Travis. Folks call me Trav.” He gestures to the nearby figures. “These here are my brothers Templeton, Tatum, Tyson, Terrell, Tripp, and Timon.”

  “Nice to meet you all.”

  They don’t reply with words. Nope. Instead, the Enmity brothers only gape at me in awe. A few even have drool dripping down their chins.

  Perfect.

  “What do you need, Scala Mother?” asks Trav.

  “Information. A magical item created by Lucifer has recently turned up. Any idea what it is?”

  Trav folds his arms over his chest. “Can’t tell you that.”

  I gesture toward the front door. “How about we go inside? It’s more private.”

  “NO!” Trav’s face reddens with a mixture of fear and rage. “We talk here.”

  Huh. That got a reaction and how. What’s inside Purgatory Tara? I scan the windows with renewed interest. Figures still move behind the curtains. Maybe there are underworld criminals inside or something? Are the Enmity brothers hiding the Viper perhaps?

  Note to self: come back later and check out the situation.

  I hold my arms up, palms facing Trav. “No problem. We can talk outside. How about a little game of fill in the blank? The new object from Lucifer is a…” I roll my hand in circles, encouraging him to finish the sentence.

  Trav shudders. “I shouldn’t talk about this. People give us information because we don’t share it.”

  People like the Viper, no doubt. These guys suck.

  “I respect that. You don’t want to blab your secrets.” Even so, what Trav wants to do and what I’ll force him into are two different things. Dude just needs a little more inspiration.

  It’s igni time.

  I cup my hand by my ear once more. “What’s that you say, oh my igni? I should send this man to Hell?”

  For the record, I won’t send Trav to the fiery down under. But I could.

  “No, not Hell!” Trav’s bulky form trembles with fear. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Word is, new battle armor has turned up.”

  I glance over to Walker. “Is that specific enough?”

  “Not by a long shot,” Walker retorts.

  “Battle armor covers a lot of territory. How about a name?” I hitch my thumb toward my igni. “Last chance before I open the Hell pit.”

  If this were a cartoon, Trav’s eyes would bug out at least a foot from his head. “Don’t send me away. I’ll talk!”

  I set my fist on my hip. “Waiting.”

  “The armor is called Lucifer’s Gauntlets, and that’s all I know. Honestly.”

  I so don’t believe him. That said, I’m not the one on a time crunch. I turn to Walker. “What do you say? Should we ask more questions?”

  As a ghoul, Walker is already bloodless and pale. Now his skin turns such a pure shade of white, I worry that he’ll pass out. “Not the Gauntlets.”

  My skin prickles over with gooseflesh. “What’s the deal with Lucifer’s Gauntlets?”

  Walker scrubs his hand down his face. “The Gauntlets are metal gloves. They can pull out someone else’s native powers. Then, they can place those abilities into a magical storage container or directly into another being. This is terrible.”

  I set my hand on my throat. “So someone could pull out my demonic wrath forever?”

  “I’m afraid so,” says Walker. His normally-low voice has turned especially deep. “Or pull out a ghoul’s ability to portal.”

  My heart sinks. No question where this logic is going. When the Viper knocked out Walker, he put on those gauntlets, pulled out Walker’s own ability to create portals, and then used Walker’s very own power to sneak in and poison Drayden.

  Damn, that’s evil stuff.

  My tail pokes my shoulder in a nervous rhythm. I pat the arrowhead end. “It’s all right, boy. We’ll never let anyone take our powers.”

  A low hum fills the air before a door-like black opening appears behind Walker. It’s another ghoul portal.

  My blood chills. “You’re not taking off right this second, are you?”

  “I have no choice,” answers Walker. “Keep an eye on that watch. If there is no change after twenty four hours, then there’s nothing more you need to do.”

  I try to nod, but my body won’t comply. In fact, it’s all I can do to stand rooted to the spot. This moment, right here. This could be the last time I see Walker. Part of me screams that I should have some awesome farewell speech handy. More of me just can’t process what’s happening.
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  Walker twists the ring from Drayden off his finger. With a trembling hand, he offers the precious band to me.

  My eyes sting with held-in tears. “No Walker. That’s from Drayden. You keep it.”

  Walker resets the ring on his finger. “Thank you, Myla.” He gives me another sad smile.

  With that, my honorary older brother turns about, steps through the portal, and disappears into darkness. Seconds later, the portal itself vanishes.

  My heart feels wrenched from my body. I can’t believe it.

  Walker is gone.

  Chapter 7

  On reflex, I set my palm over my new wristwatch. Walker said he’d hide forever, but the location is loaded on this watch. Suddenly, it’s become my most important possession.

  Trav speaks, breaking up my thoughts. “Oh, Scala Mother. May I give you a humble word of advice?”

  “No.”

  That doesn’t stop Trav from sharing, however. “Leave that ghoul alone. You’re our sacred Scala Mother. Ghouls are evil. Befriending one risks your life. And if a foul ghoul gave you that very watch? Drop it in a ditch.”

  “Maybe you couldn’t hear me before.” I clear my throat and then speak in a super-loud voice. “NO ADVICE. And if you insult my friend again, we will have trouble.” As I say the word trouble, I make my irises glow demon red.

  Trav raises his hands like we’re in a Western and I just pointed my six-shooter at his chest. “Apologies, Scala Mother. My only goal was to be helpful.”

  “Want to help? Tell me more about Lucifer’s Gauntlets. You can’t just know the name and that’s it.”

  “I do know more.” Trav sets his hand over his heart. “And I shall only tell you, my Scala Mother.”

  Fact: every time Trav says Scala Mother, I barf a little in the back of my throat.