by Lexi C. Foss
“She will,” Balthazar agreed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now don’t lose that vision. Emotions can be a powerful motivator, Jay. Don’t hide from yours.”
*
Lizzie fisted the sheets of the bed while Valerie examined her as one would a lab rat. She drew blood, took on the role of gynecologist, and was now performing a spinal tap.
“Don’t move,” she cautioned as the needle slid into her back.
Ow, ow, ow…
Her vision blurred with unshed tears, but she’d agreed to cooperate in exchange for more information. After the familial lesson and declaration that Lizzie was here to give Osiris a “new son”—which still freaked her out—Valerie had detailed Lizzie’s genetic profile.
All her records indicated she was a full-blooded Seraphim without powers. She apparently didn’t heal as fast as others, but the records provided proof of her immortality.
Because she’d been killed multiple times—in various ways.
And she had survived it all.
Yet she possessed no memory of any of it.
Lizzie couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse. Maybe Osiris could erase her memory of learning his purpose for her.
And what did that mean for the child in her belly now? Would he take the baby from her? She couldn’t bear losing that final connection to Jayson.
Her eyes stung with suppressed emotion. An inferno of grief whirled inside her, waiting to be unleashed, but she swallowed it.
Osiris wouldn’t win. He couldn’t.
I’m not having his child.
She’d die first.
Or at least try.
“Done,” Valerie said as she stepped back. “You can get dressed again.”
Lizzie swallowed her response. Thank you had been on the tip of her tongue, which seemed inappropriate considering their situation. Her surrogate mother would say otherwise, but Lizzie no longer gave a damn. Not after everything she’d learned these last few weeks.
She pulled on the white drawstring pants and a matching tank top, gathered her hair, and let it fall against her back. Valerie placed all her medical supplies on a desk against the wall. Beside it was an empty bookshelf and another one of those wooden chairs.
The oversized room also came equipped with a marble bathroom with a large walk-in shower, two sinks, and a toilet. As far as prison cells went, this one wasn’t bad. Although, she could do with some artwork, books, a television, or anything entertaining to keep her mind busy. Instead, she was surrounded by white walls, glass windows, and a few pieces of furniture.
The bed provided the only comfortable seat. Lizzie sat near the headboard and tucked her knees into her chest while watching Valerie bag and label all her samples.
Lizzie shivered, feeling violated and exposed.
I need to get out of here.
But she didn’t know how or where she would go. She didn’t even know where here was, for crying out loud.
Would anyone come for her? Maybe. Maybe not. She hadn’t been very nice to the Hydraians, or to Issac, or Tom. Why would anyone want to help her after the way she acted?
Not to mention it being her fault Stas and Jayson were dead.
She dropped her chin to her knees.
Even if she escaped, would it be worth it? She would forever be a prisoner to her emotions.
I have a piece of him inside me.
She caressed her belly and closed her eyes. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would the baby have Jayson’s milk chocolate gaze? His dark, luscious hair? His dimples?
Lizzie grinned at the adorable image of a small boy running around and causing mischief. She would call him Jedrick, in honor of his father.
Her fingers drew a heart—a tribute to the life growing in memory of their love. Because she had no doubt that she loved Jayson, just as she would their child. Time meant nothing in the face of her feelings. Her soul ached without her other half. That had to be love. And if it wasn’t, then it translated to a word that didn’t exist.
I’ll take care of you, she promised as she palmed her flat stomach.
Because she would escape, if for nothing else than to save the life inside her.
“Are you ready to learn more?” Valerie asked softly.
“Yes,” Lizzie replied without opening her eyes. “Please.”
Papers shuffled as the doctor found a good place to start, but an explosion outside rattled the windows, silencing her before she could speak.
“What was that?” Lizzie asked as she sat up.
Another crash shook the foundation of the mansion and forced both of them to run to the windows. Smoke and fire danced in the yard.
Valerie closed the file and tucked it into her bag before walking across the room to peer outside. “They are trying to get through the wards.”
“Wards?” Lizzie repeated as she joined her by the window.
“Seraphim create them, just like runes. I don’t know much about the magic, but there are several surrounding the CRF, and it seems Osiris’s compound has them as well.”
“What do they do?”
“They mostly prevent entry.” Another blast slammed into what resembled a force field around the estate grounds. “And strip immortals of their gifts. These appear to all be protective runes, and they’re working.”
Fire danced in the air, playing over a jagged line. “Are you sure about that?” Because it certainly looked as if they’d cracked the surface of that bubble.
“We should probably take cover,” Valerie replied as a loud shriek sounded.
Lizzie cupped her ears at what resembled a raven’s cry and screamed, “What the heck is that?!”
The doctor shook her head, her face paling.
A flash of light blinded them, and Valerie knocked Lizzie to the ground just as the glass imploded inward.
“Shit!” Lizzie yelled as dozens of slivers sliced her exposed arms. The doctor took the brunt of it, having covered Lizzie with her body as they fell.
Ouch.
Valerie didn’t move or speak, which was fine by Lizzie. That implosion had shattered her eardrums, leaving an incessant ringing behind.
Smoke billowed overhead, forcing her to cough. She tried to wiggle out from under Valerie, but the woman was dead weight.
“Move,” Lizzie urged as she tried again.
It took some shoving, but she finally dislodged her with a heave and sat up to expel the bad air from her lungs. Only it continued to cloud her room.
“We have to get out of here,” Lizzie said with a nudge to her companion. She still didn’t move.
“Come on, Val…” Lizzie trailed off as she noticed the blood coloring the doctor’s lab coat. She leaned around the woman and gasped at the jagged piece of glass sticking out of her back. “Oh God.” She finally met the gaze of a very dead woman and scrambled back on a cry. “Shit!”
Valerie had saved her life by covering Lizzie during the fall. On purpose or by accident? She would never know. And as another vibration shook the floor beneath her hands, she realized there wasn’t time to find out.
She ran to the door and tried to open it, but it didn’t budge.
“Help!” Lizzie frantically pounded her fists against the door as she screamed. She still couldn’t hear over all the damn ringing, so if anyone replied, she wouldn’t know. But the door remained closed. The place above the knob seemed appropriate for a key. Would Valerie have one?
A glance at the dead woman left Lizzie gagging. Probably not, and she didn’t have the stomach to check. But she could try her bag by the table.
Lizzie moved quickly, going through all the pockets and zippers, and paused when she found the file with “Asset 4-7” printed at the top. She didn’t have time to read it now, but she might later. Carrying the papers would be an issue, especially if she needed her hands.
Hmm…
Lizzie lifted her shirt and tucked part of the file into the band of her pants while resting the majority of it against her belly. Not the most eloquent look,
but functional. She secured it by retying her drawstrings as tightly as possible and laid her tank top over the file before searching the bag again.
No key.
That didn’t surprise her, as it seemed Valerie was just as much of a prisoner as Lizzie.
She returned to pounding on the door, her fists bruising from her efforts, as smoke continued to billow through the windows. It would be a lot worse if the fire were in the room with her, but, damn, it still sucked to breathe. And it couldn’t be good for her unborn child.
The lock clicked as someone pushed the door open. She jumped back and met the green gaze of the silent male servant.
Sethios.
He gestured for her to follow him, and for lack of a better option, she did. His legs quickly ate up the hallway, and she kept pace behind him. The floor reverberated against her feet as powers far greater than her understanding annihilated the residence.
A set of back stairs appeared at the end of the corridor, and he pointed downward. She waited for him to lead, but he shook his head.
“Where do I go at the bottom?” she asked.
He mimed opening a door and scissored his fingers in a way that indicated running.
“Outside?” she asked.
One nod.
When she didn’t immediately move, he pushed her forward with an urgent expression. Then his lips ripped through the razors, causing her to cringe as blood poured from his mouth.
“Go now,” he rasped. His eyes trained on the hallway they’d just run through, as if preparing for a battle.
“Sethios!” Osiris’s voice ricocheted off the walls, sending a chill down her spine.
Her helper cracked his neck and grinned in anticipation. Or she thought it was a grin. She couldn’t see through the gruesome mess of his mouth. “Run down the stairs, little one,” he demanded hoarsely. “Now.”
Lizzie’s legs started moving before her mind registered the action. She didn’t pause to analyze the how or why; she just fled down the stairs as instructed and went through the door at the bottom. The papers shuffled against her belly but remained in place thanks to her waistband. Not that they would help her with this new predicament.
Fire blazed across the ground not twenty feet from her, forming an impenetrable wall. She darted right, only to find the same force field of heat and energy surrounding the entire back of the property.
Heat singed her skin as she went back the way she came, toward the front. Her pants stuck to her legs, her tank top to her back, and the file to her stomach.
She shook her head at the sight, her vision blurring with tears.
This was hopeless. Even if she found a way through the flames, she’d probably die of suffocation.
I can’t give up.
She had no idea who had started the attack, but it offered her the only chance she may ever have to escape.
And maybe, hopefully, the assailants were on her side.
Because anyone who disliked Osiris was okay by her.
She took off at a dead run to the other side of the giant residence, hoping and praying to find a passageway. Her legs burned as she ran, but she pushed through the pain and ignored the scrapes to her bare feet.
The estate was long and vast, but she managed to arrive at the other side and ran right into a brick wall of male.
He appeared out of nowhere and halted her with an “Oomph” as her face met his chest. Hands grabbed her waist, and her vision swirled.
I’m going to be sick.
Wind whipped through her hair, and she stumbled as she fell to the sand.
A bright moon hung in a star-filled sky above as waves crashed against the shore behind her.
She spun in a circle and found herself alone.
No fire.
No mansion.
“Where am I?” she whispered into the darkness.
No one responded.
*
“Got her,” Jacque announced as he returned to Jayson’s side.
“How the fuck did she get outside?” Jayson demanded. He couldn’t believe it when he saw that wave of auburn hair flying outside the manor.
Jacque gave him a look. “You want me to go back and ask her?”
“Someone obviously helped on the inside,” Ash replied, her brow sweating from all the fire manipulation. “What now, boss?”
“Demolish it,” he replied, furious.
“You heard the man,” Ash said into the comms.
It’d taken far too long to get through all those damn wards, even with all of Aidan’s and Luc’s knowledge. They had to work quickly to find and draw runes over them, calling on millennia of ancient logic to solve the puzzles. A few booby-traps forced them to launch their attack prematurely, something that wasted a hell of a lot of energy, but once the protection spells fell, they were able to volley a sufficient attack.
And strangely, Osiris didn’t return fire. So much for Ezekiel’s comments regarding a clairvoyant and the substantial immortal gifts on site.
Grace stepped up beside him, her focus on the mansion. She stripped it with her mind, removing the roof first and sending it into the fire Ash created, followed by the walls.
Jeremy took a knee and palmed the ground, causing it to shake. His affinity for controlling stones of all kind came in handy during times like this, as did Jayson’s ability to manipulate metal. He used it now to warp the support beams, not caring at all whom he crushed in the devastation.
Though, he suspected Osiris had long fled with his minions. Otherwise they would be outside fighting. “Why would he run?” he asked, his question directed at Luc over the comm. No one else would dare speculate.
“Our source mentioned a clairvoyant,” he replied. “I imagine she provided him with the odds of winning, and they were not in his favor, so he chose to flee.”
“Why not take Lizzie?”
“Perhaps he meant to, but someone intervened. We’ll need her input to determine that.”
Fair enough. Jayson destroyed the last of the metal structures while Ash, Jeremy, and Grace handled the rest. An entire army of Hydraians who volunteered to assist with this mission surrounded the estate, and he gazed upon them in pride.
The remains of the former palatial residence glowed as Ash weakened the flames until only a few embers remained. “That was a waste of a perfectly good home,” she remarked as she wiped her brow.
“You did good,” Jayson replied
“Of course I did.” She grinned broadly and tossed her white-blonde hair over her shoulder. “Time to go?”
“Time to go,” he agreed.
“On it,” Jacque replied as he group-hugged four Hydraians, including Ash, and disappeared.
“He’s going to eat all the food in Hydria after this,” Jeremy said as he stood. He was one of the members of Jayson’s guard, just like Grace, which explained why they were both flanking him on either side. The perceived threat might be gone, but one could never be so sure.
“You realize I can handle myself,” he noted dryly.
“Says the jackass who was shot in Bora Bora after he refused to let his Guardians do their jobs,” Grace sniped. “I’ll be standing right here until Jacque safely escorts you back to Hydria, sir.”
Jayson shook his head, bemused. There would be no talking her down, not that he intended to try.
Jacque appeared across the way, picked up the Hydraians walking toward the main camp, and disappeared. Jayson frowned as intuition inched along his spine. Two of those immortals were B’s Guardians, but the Elders were nowhere in sight.
Not proper protocol.
“Luc, what’s your status?” Jayson asked as his stomach twisted with foreboding. Something isn’t right.
Silence echoed over the line.
Grace took a defensive stance, her ebony gaze flickering around the field as Jeremy knelt to touch the earth again. Guardians sensing a danger to their Elder.
Jayson cleared his throat and tried again. “Luc?”
“I’m sorry, but Lucian
is quite indisposed at the moment,” a cool voice informed. One that froze everyone in place.
“Osiris.”
“Jedrick, or is it Jayson now? It’s so difficult to keep everyone’s names straight. Did you hear that Ezekiel is going by Kiel now? Such an unbecoming name.” He sighed dramatically. “Anyway, I daresay you owe me a new home. Quite rude to drop by unannounced, but to destroy my property too?” He tsked. “And all over a woman. It reminds me of Troy.”
“That’s a myth.”
“Is it?” Osiris mused. “Alas, we should chat more. In person. Assuming you want your king returned unharmed.”
Grace and Jeremy shook their heads in prompt denial, while Jayson rubbed a hand over his face. Luc would tell him to stand down, but they both knew how Jay felt about following the rules. Exhibit A: Lizzie Watkins.
“Where?” Jayson asked.
“Finish sending your Guardians home, and we’ll go from there.”
“No,” Grace stated immediately.
“Mind your Elders, young one,” Osiris murmured. “They could save your life.”
“Fuck you,” Grace replied.
“Manners, child,” Osiris chastised. “Make him scream, Alik.”
Agony filtered over the speakers, causing Jayson to go to his knees at the familiar sound. It reminded him of when Luc almost died during the last immortal war.
“Now that is obedience,” Osiris murmured. “Such a good little Elder you are.” Jayson pictured him stroking Alik’s head like a dog as he used his commands.
Jacque appeared, grinning proudly. “Eighteen down and…” His silver eyes widened. “What—”
More groans filtered through the earpiece, shredding Jayson’s heart. Because that last one was Balthazar. Osiris must have snuck up on Alik when no one was looking and used him to take down the other two.
Fuck.
Jayson knew this had been too easy.
“More,” Osiris urged as the screaming increased.
“Stop,” Jayson begged. “I’ll meet your demands.”
“No, I quite enjoy watching them squirm. Centuries later, and I’m still impressed that you all managed to keep Alik’s fantastic talent from me for all those years. It’s fascinating.”
