Rise (Reaper's Redemption Book 3)

by Thea Atkinson

  The scream comes later, when you know you should be afraid.

  Even so, my scream came out more of a strangled cat cry, and the Fae who had held her wavered into view for a moment before disappearing again when he noticed she was still blazing brightly.

  She'd be fine. She had to be. But all that kept running through my mind was, what if this time, she wasn't. What if she died right there and I didn't get a chance to let her know my unease around her didn't mean I didn't care about her? She was just a kid. She probably hadn't been able to work out why Sarah was the one to spend the most time with her, cuddling her before she slept, and tucking her in. Couldn't have understood my reluctance to get too close when I didn't understand it myself.

  I stood there paralyzed from fear and indecision for a long moment before I realized this was it. This was the moment I needed. I didn't need to go through with the ruse at all.

  Rory, too, had been surprised by the burst of flame and had lunged backward on instinct. He was terrified. I could tell. No one wanted to get burned alive, least of all a fae sorcerer who planned to live forever.

  I could do this. I could use this time and I could save her. I shoved my hand into the bag and wrapped my fingers around the knife handle. The cold weight of it reminded me of Warren and I felt the sting of pity and remorse. That too was on Rory. He deserved what was coming to him far more than Warren had. I was determined to make him pay what he owed.

  I had to nail down where he was, and when I found him, I pinned my gaze to that spot, gauging his distance, imagining myself already racing toward him, where I would aim the knife point, plan the thrust. Told myself it wasn't living flesh I was stealing breath from but an evil monster that needed to be extinguished. An evil thing that had put my family in danger.

  I tried not to stare at the ball of flame that was the small child I'd defied Azrael for, had brought into my home and helped nurture. I tried to tell myself she was going to be okay.

  I had to push through the heat right now, use it for the distraction it was to get to Rory. Hope that Callum wouldn't be like me, too paralyzed by shock at the scene to seize his moment. He was a firefighter. I tried not to think about the fact that he had no gear, no hose, no protection. Or that Nicki might not even come free of the flames unharmed this time.

  No. Now was the time to move, not think.

  But it was so hot. Even Rory had flung his arm over his face in reflex to protect himself against the heat and the Fae crony was gone. I knew exactly how impossible that fire was to withstand; I knew its power. This was my chance. I sucked in a breath and ran for Rory even as Nicki's fire grew to lash out in all directions. I felt something on my arm sizzle and smelled the aroma of burnt hair.

  Before I made it more than five strides, a whoosh of air whipped my hair in my face. A pop sounded and my calf tattoo burned. A firm hand touched down on my waist, followed by an arm wrapping around my midriff. The fae. Right next to me. I caught sight of his pudgy jaw as he yanked me to his side, effectively halting my progress. With an ease that surprised me he threw himself sideways out of the way of the heat and flames, pulling me with him. We tangled together on the floor, and I struggled to wrest myself from his grip.

  "Not like this," he said in my ear. "Not after what you did for Warren."

  What I did? I'd killed Warren. Was this retribution?

  "You're helping Rory?" I barked out, disbelief dripping from my voice. I knew what Warren felt about Rory's control and I couldn't believe any fae would want to help Rory no matter how much he hated me.

  In answer, the fae pinned me by my arms to the floor. The knife clattered to the stone tiles as I fell backwards.

  "You saved him. I owe you the same."

  I realized he was trying to save me. Stupid Fae.

  I groaned out loud. He'd ruined it. My chance to get to Rory was gone.

  "Let me go," I yelled, you don't understand." I craned backwards over my shoulder as I lay there, small pebbles embedding in my back. Callum. Where the heck was he?

  I couldn't see either Rory or Nicki anymore either no matter how much I twisted. All I could make out was the gleaming eyes of the fae above me as he shielded me with his body. The heavy scent of cinnamon hung in the air around me and with horror I realized there was another fragrance cloistered beneath that spicy smell. One I had smelled before in Nicki's bedroom. Those fragrant, holy spices.

  It was happening. If I waited any longer, she would have transformed and my opportunity would be gone.

  I twisted in the fae's grip, looking for Callum. No doubt he'd figured out that showing himself at all when he couldn't even grab for Nicki would be foolish, and he'd waited. But where was he now? Would he be ready? This was his chance, dog gone it. He needed to take it.

  The messenger bag somehow twisted from my grip and fell to my side, making the strap pull tight against my neck. It scraped the skin raw. One hand was still caught on the lip of the opening and it kept me from pushing myself onto my side as it bit into my scraped skin.

  "Let me go," I said again and squirmed. I tried to catch his eye. "I'm alright. Everything is okay. Just get off me."

  I craned my head backward, searching for Callum. Something was going on beyond the door between him and Sarah. Strange noises that I didn't expect. Arguing, maybe? Yelling? Perhaps seeing Nicki combust had thrown him, she had held him back, not realizing it was a better distraction that I could've ever created.

  There was no time to assess that. Rory must have recovered himself because he called out to the Fae but then, halfway through the syllables, the sound cut off like something had gripped him by the throat.

  Callum. Callum had him by the throat. The burly fireman had thrown himself into the fray during the chaos and confusion, bless him, and had managed to yank one of the fae mancer's arms up behind his back. All I could see was the back of Callum's head and one broad hand wrapped around Rory's throat. Those sky blues eyes of the fae mancer bugged out beneath the pressure of Callum's grip.

  We had him. Some miracle had bloomed in the dusty crypt and we had come out on top. It wasn't exactly the plan, but it was good enough. I couldn't help a stifled, excited laugh.

  It was then that I realized the fae had let go of me. His head snapped toward the sound of Rory's choking and his eyes glazed over as he rolled off me.

  He stood and took drugged steps toward Rory and Callum. I strained for him, yelling at him to stop.

  No use. Callum had no idea or no care that the fae was coming for him and Nicki was still burning brightly. I pushed onto my hands and knees, preparing to launch myself at the fae. I was aware of a roar of air that clapped over the chamber like thunder. Every bit of air that burned on my face felt as though it was being sucked from my skin by a vacuum.

  It had no effect on the Fae. He merely waved his hand in the air over Callum's back, and on the last swirl, pulled a gossamer bit of pulsing violet webbing from the ether. He threw it over Callum's back and it spread like a virus over his entire body. He spasmed, thrusting his chest and arching back. He let go a cry of pain.

  A moment later, both he and the fae disappeared with a pop, and left Rory gasping for air, his hands clamouring for his throat. He glared at me. I thought he might accuse me of cheating but both of us seemed to realize in the same moment that something was different in the crypt. There had indeed been a vacuuming out of the flames and in its place that dissolution had left a slim child with long russet hair in place of the fire. Nicki, I realized.

  My relief came out in a long sigh.

  She had grown at least five years during her phase, and she stood there grinning from ear to ear with a gap in her smile. Every feature on her face seemed lit from within and even though I should have been terrified for her, I couldn't help the unaccountable swell of pride that blossomed in my chest. She was okay. She was more than okay. I could already see the magnificent woman who was peering through the child's body, and despite the fear of the moment, I grinned back. Happy to see her. Alive. Well. An
d yet something was off. I had a nagging sense I was missing something. That something wasn't quite right about her.

  Rory blinked three times in succession. Then he laughed straight out loud, a harsh victorious sound. "That was some show."

  I didn't care why he sounded so pleased. He could gloat and boast all he wanted. His time was limited. I might not have been able to use the distraction she had provided, but that didn't mean the plan was done and over with.

  "It's all right," I said to her in my best most soothing voice. "Everything is going to be okay. We're going to get you out of here."

  I tried not to think about where Callum was, but I vowed in that moment that I'd bring him safely home, too. I didn't know how, but I wasn't going to abandon him.

  Nicki took a step toward me, and I opened my arms. Rory grabbed for her before she could move further.

  I thought she was struggling to speak, and imagined that such sudden growth couldn't possibly come along with all of the learning that took a regular child years to acquire. She had only been with us for a little over two weeks. Not nearly enough time to have gathered the intricacies of language.

  "You're going to be okay," I said. "I promise you. I won't let him hurt you."

  "Of course, she'll be fine," Rory agreed.

  "Damn straight," I said. "In fact, you're going to hand her over right now. Her and Callum."

  Rory's finger slipped beneath Nicki's chin and he tilted that round face up toward him.

  "You're pretty brazen for a girl who has no poker chips, Sarah," he said, turning his head to look at me.

  I couldn't think of a single thing to say in argument. He was right. Heaven only knew where his Fae minion had taken Callum.

  He stooped down at Nicki's feet and retrieved something from the floor. Her eyes followed his every movement. When he rose again, his fist was closed but he shook it in front of him as though he was juggling something inside.

  "You said you wouldn't hurt her if I came," I said, remembering that I had taken on Sarah's glamour. In the stress of the moment, I had forgotten that, and I was relieved the glamour still held.

  I lifted my chin. Defiant. "You agreed to let her go after you got what you wanted."

  He shrugged. "Well, I've yet to get what I want," he said. "But I'm well on my way. It's just that a fella doesn't live as long as I have without making sure to have some insurance. Everyone will be fine so long as you do what I want."

  He opened his fist and splayed his palm toward me. Lying against the pink of his palm were two white pebbles.

  Not a pebbles, I realized. Teeth. Nicki's first teeth. I almost groaned out loud at the irony of it. But it wasn't her fault. She couldn't have known transforming at that exact moment would play into Rory's hands.

  "Seems we don't have to wait for Warren after all," he said. "Since he's obviously busy with Ayla, no doubt trying to get her to kill him again." He cocked his head at me, giving me a squinted look, almost as though he expected me to protest. When I didn't he sighed.

  "So should we could started? I believe you were about to use that knife to start the bloodletting for the spell..."

  Warren's voice rang through my mind. Bone of a soul who has cheated death. One ingredient down out of three, but that didn't mean Rory would get the others. What was pretending to do one little part of the spell going to hurt.

  "You promise to let them both go?"

  He lifted a white brow. "You doubt my sincerity?"

  I said. Nothing. I held his gaze with my own, telling myself that those sky blue eyes would be clouded and inanimate within moments. I stooped over to pick up the knife, clenched my fingers around the handle.

  I could just go for it. Race across the crypt and ram the knife beneath his chin. His cronies were gone. He had no protection.

  He seemed to watch me struggling with my decision. It took several steps toward me as though he wasn't afraid whatsoever. As though he was inspecting me from top to bottom, he walked a circle around me.

  "You need more convincing," he said from behind me. "I don't have any trouble with that," he said.

  As if I had conjured one of his minions just by thinking about them, the second Fae bully appeared next to Nicki. He leaned over her, stroking her hair gently. Then he tilted her chin, pulling her face toward him. I watched her smile slowly and then take his hand when he reached out for it. In the next instant, both of them were also gone.

  So much for my plan. So much for hesitation. I had lost both chances. I felt sick.

  If I struck now, I would be putting Nicki in danger. And probably Callum too.

  "Start the incantation," he hissed in my ear.

  I wasn't sure how we were going to manage the plan now. I only knew a few of the words from the incantation. Surely he would know soon enough that I was not Sarah, and then what would he do to Callum and Nicki?

  Maybe I could gain some time. Maybe if he thought I was going along with it, he would be lulled into dropping his guard on the fae he controlled and they would release both. I knew they weren't willing accomplices. At least one of them wasn't, and he'd had that same puffy look to his skin that Warren had.

  "You promised to bring me back?" I said, trying to look complicit

  Rory waggled his head. "Of course. Family is family after all. You'll be glad of it when it's all done."

  I let my breath go in a hiss. Shook my hands out. The thought of cutting my skin made me queasy. I was trembling. I stared down at the knife, willing myself to put the edge against my skin. I didn't know how Sarah found the courage to do it. She was much braver than I ever gave her credit for.

  "Do it," Rory said.

  I laid the blade against my skin pressed. A small bubble of red welled up on either side of the blade as it bit into me. I grit my teeth. A wave of queasiness passed over me, making me stagger.

  "Finito magnus," I started to chant. "Opresso infinitum."

  Those were the only words I remembered. I faltered on the last, knowing I had no more. I had failed and all was lost. And yet, through the silence of my hesitation, I swore I heard a chant coming from behind me. It sounded odd, as though it was coming from around me and yet was being thrown with a ventriloquist's skill toward me.

  Sarah. Filling in the gaps for me. Rory was so enthralled in the spell itself, staring at some point above him as though he expected a portal to open, that he seemed not to notice. About the time his body went tense and he levelled his gaze at me, the spell had already threaded out to nothing.

  Rory's sky blue eyes pinned to mine. He looked confused.

  "Those aren't the words," he started to say. You're not doing the right spell..."

  My mouth clamped closed in surprise and yet the chanting continued. A horrible clatter sounded as dozens of skeletons burst through the door, nearly spilling over each other in their haste to get into the room.

  "You're not Sarah," he said. "Oh tricky, tricky, Ayla."

  My glamour had fallen. The ruse was over, but it didn't matter. Sarah's minions were charging the room, heading for Rory.

  He stepped back, surprised, just before they swarmed around him, sealing him off and barricading him against the wall where the altar would be in the narthex above.

  Sarah was giving me another chance. I clenched the knife and streaked across the chamber as she came into view from the sidelines. She stood there in the open door frame, and I took three long strides. I was almost there. The skeletons were beginning to part to let me in.

  Sarah's voice rose with a commanding timber. Her soldiers had Rory trapped and the look on his face was murderously angry. I hefted the blade high over my head as I charged. Three more steps, that was all. All I could think was if he died, he'd lose control of his fae.

  But then some of the skeletons began to clatter to the stone floor. One by one, they fell into crumpled and broken heaps.

  I swung my gaze sideways for the briefest of seconds. There stood Sarah, both arms outstretched and bloody. She was leaning against the wall, her
legs trembling and knees buckling. Something on her face told me things were not okay.

  "Sarah," I said, skidding to a stop several feet away from Rory, realizing she was about to collapse because every single one of her skeletons barricading Rory had fallen to pieces on the chamber room floor.

  Then she did.

  CHAPTER 15

  Whatever I'd wanted to do to Rory escaped me. It just didn't matter. All I knew was Sarah was down, and nothing, not seeing Rory's smug look, not being afraid for Nicki, not worrying about Callum mattered one bit compared to that. I just ran. My heart pounded in my ears. It had been too much for her, with all that strain already, calling out to her magic with nothing but her own blood was just too much.

  I skidded to a stop and hung over her, tapping her on the cheeks. She was out. Out cold. I peeled her eyelids back with one hand and felt for her pulse with the other. I couldn't find it. Stupid fingers were too nervous to land on the right spot.

  "She's dead, Ayla," Rory said, from a distance a bit too near for my comfort. "Surely you can see that."

  I couldn't take in the meaning of his words. All I could do was stare at his mouth as he spoke, thinking he didn't sound aggrieved one bit. I shot a glare over my shoulder. He was indeed standing over me, leaning to the side as if he needed to see. Catching my glare, he shrugged at me.

  "Most definitely dead," he said.

  "No," I said, laying my head down on her chest. No heartbeat. No feeling of respiration. I sobbed deep in my throat. "Sarah," I said again "Come on. Please. Get up."

  I massaged her solar plexus, feeling for the place to start CPR. It had worked for Gramp. I had saved him. It couldn't be too late for her.

  Rory crouched down next to me and I felt his arm sling over my shoulders. I wouldn't look up at him. I wouldn't stop delivering the CPR. It had to work. I had a virtue aspect from the maniac in the Cathedral, and that instilled in me his same ability to intercede in humanly things. Surely, I could make a difference.