Blood Redemption (Angel's Edge #3)

by Vicki Keire

  Mrs. Alice interrupted my dark thoughts with a laugh. “It’s nothing so serious.” She patted the back of my hand, reading my expression. “We can enact the special protections at dawn. I suggest you get as much rest as possible between now and then. Once we raise them, the barriers between us and the town cannot be easily breached. We’ll effectively be cut off. That’s why, once we end this little session, the rest of us need to call up what forces we can muster. We won’t have the chance to call in reinforcements once the fighting starts.”

  At this grim news I nodded, wishing for a moment that I could rewind the clock to the night before, when we’d all been safe in my apartment on the square. I wished I could go back, if only for a few minutes, but knew it wasn’t the best idea. I didn’t want to draw any unneeded attention to the town if I could help it.

  “I’ve arranged rooms for all of you,” Bain said.

  “You’ll excuse us if we choose to sleep outdoors,” Jacob Eden said.

  Bain shrugged. The others continued to argue about everything from sleeping arrangements to battle formations. I found myself losing interest already. Part of me knew I should be paying attention. Should, in fact, be very interested. But I knew I had nothing of substance to add to the discussion. I had no extra help to bring in, and my role in the operation was fairly clear and defined.

  Bait. I rolled my eyes and stalked from the house.

  The rest of that afternoon and evening, Bain’s property grew busier and busier until it practically hummed with activity. Cassandra disappeared to help her great-grandmother while the rest of us gathered in the room I’d been assigned. We stared out the balcony window to the darkening back yard, which sported a few encampments with fires of their own glowing against the incoming night. Burly shapes moved against the darkness. I thought I recognized swords, axes, and other heavy weapons arming more than a few of the gathering crowd.

  From the front window, I could see the porch was packed with people, ducking in and out of the house and spilling out onto the lawn. I recognized a few of them, mostly people who frequented the eclectic businesses on the square. One of them was Dylan, the intern who’d been so kind to me when Logan was in the hospital, along with his twin, the lifeguard that saved me from Dr. Christian. Since I knew they were shifters, I had to assume more of their kind had come to help. There were members of Mr. Markov’s group as well; I thought about asking after him, but I just didn’t think I could take any bad news where he was concerned. Best to focus on the coming battle instead.

  The presence of my fellow supernatural citizens made me feel more than a little homesick. They had always known me as the barista from Mr. Markov’s place, rather than as Caspia, the Gifted Nephilim and wannabe Guardian.

  I found that I much preferred the former title.

  As night wore on and the house and grounds grew still around us, I found myself unable to settle. Ethan absently rubbed the back of my neck and the curve of my spine, hoping to ease me into sleeping, but it wasn’t working. I didn’t want to keep him up, though, so I let my breath slow as I pretended to sleep.

  It felt like midnight when the knock came. I didn’t know for certain, of course. Bain’s house seemed to lack clocks of any kind, and my phone had long since died. I’d crept from the bed once I was certain Ethan was asleep, and sat at the very base of the window, looking out at the sliver of moon that showed through the curtains. I didn’t bother to say “come in.” I didn’t have to.

  “You look beautiful like that,” Jack said, padding toward me on silent feet. “Your eyes match the moonlight exactly.”

  I blinked before he could see the tears in them. “I can’t believe this is it,” I said, pitching my voice soft and low. “This time tomorrow, we could have lost the war.”

  “Or won it,” Jack said, dropping to crouch on one knee beside me.

  “What chance do you really think we have?”

  “Maybe more than you think. I thought maybe we could use tonight to help.” He held out his hand expectantly. “It’s our last chance to gather information, if you guys are really going to close the barriers tomorrow. I thought we could…”

  “Spy?” I finished for him, feeling my spirits lift a little in spite of myself. “Do you know how dangerous that could be?” I reached out to take his hand almost in spite of myself. Excitement swelled within me, and wondered briefly if it showed in my moon-bright eyes.

  “No more dangerous than remaining ignorant of our enemy’s real strength,” he said, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “And who better to look than you and I? We can defend ourselves if we have to, as long as we stay together.”

  I found myself nodding along with his plan. At last―I could be of some real, practical use. Jack led me back to the bed, and patted the empty space beside Ethan. “Do you remember how?” I heard teasing in his voice.

  “It’s like riding a bike,” I retorted, rolling onto my side so that my back was toward him.

  “As easy as falling asleep,” he whispered, and his warm hand brushed my back through my nightgown.

  I had time to think of how nice it felt to be touched there before closing my eyes one final time.

  And then opened them to the familiar bluish tinge of the Dreamtime.

  ack reached for my hand and gave me a sharp pull upward. I used to hate the way he always did that―pulled me into the Dreamtime, that is―until I realized that without him doing it, I would have to crawl my way out of my sleeping body. I’d done that once or twice, and didn’t care to repeat the experience. So I took Jack’s hand gratefully as he pulled me up.

  “So what now?” I asked, keeping my voice barely above a whisper out of sheer habit.

  From across the room, Jack smirked at me as if to tease me for my caution. “Now we go and gather intelligence as we planned. Like spies do, you know.”

  He beckoned me to the door, and we found ourselves alone in the warren of bedrooms that made up the second floor of Bane’s house. Thick carpet blanketed our feet. Most of the doors were closed. A very few stood open with the beds made, revealing the kind of luxury that elegant magazines regularly featured. I resisted the urge to stop and stare, reminding myself that all those closed doors meant an almost full house. I remembered the visitors from the night before, and wondered what kind of people―or creatures―the house now sheltered, and what part they would play in the coming conflict.

  It was surprisingly easy to find our way out of Bane’s house. I stood in the foyer, my eyes darting every which way, wondering if an alarm would sound or hounds would chase us when Jack pulled the door open. When nothing happened, he gestured for me to go first with a mocking bow.

  “Come on,” Jack whispered. “Let’s go and see what we can find out.” He took my hand, and I grasped it gratefully, happy for the warmth and reassurance.

  I shivered a little; the nightgown and thick robe I’d found in my top bedroom drawer did little to keep the night chill away. The grass felt soft under my feet as Jack led me around the clearing.We counted nearly a hundred sleeping souls, judging by the shimmers of dreams in the air. When that happened, and we were nearby, Jack would suck in a breath and lean in to get a better look. The shifting glows made no sense to me―all I could see were hazy shapes and sometimes colors. But Jack could read them like a second language. He didn’t share with me what all of them were, but occasionally he would whisper that this one was dreaming of fighting while another missed her bed.

  A hundred souls. It seemed like a disappointingly small number to me. In my mind, we could never have enough people to defeat the legions of enemies that I was sure awaited us. But Jack rubbed my thumb with his own and told me not to despair yet.

  “Besides, I know some of the guardians are bringing in people all through the night. So there are bound to be more.”

  “Do any of them have… abilities?” I asked, hoping that we had somehow managed to assemble the greatest army of supernaturals Whitfield had ever seen.

  “There’s no good way to tell thro
ugh dreams, Caspia,” Jack said, a little regretfully. “A few of them, I’m pretty sure they were shifters. But the others? It’s hard to tell.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out.” I sighed. So much was supposed to happen tomorrow. There was the binding ceremony, being cut off from the rest of Whitfield, and oh yeah, going to war. I was sick of the waiting already.

  “There are still things we can find out tonight,” Jack whispered, holding onto my hand. He gave me a lopsided grin. “Are you ready?”

  At my wordless nod, he drew an arch in the air in front of us. It looked just like a seam had split in the night sky; bright light poured in around the edges. The space underneath the arch began to gleam. Jack stepped through and pulled me after him. The familiar churning in my stomach reminded me how much I hated this particular mode of travel. However, I didn’t feel as sick as I usually did when Asheroth dragged me somewhere. We emerged in a sparse forest with few places to hide. The trees grew together in scraggly clumps, and large evergreen bushes populated a few of the gaps. The fascinating blue of the Dreamtime was gone, replaced by weak mortal reality. I stood there feeling exposed in the uncertain light, unsure of what to do.

  I didn’t have long to wait, however. Beyond the sad excuse for a forest, open fields stretched in all directions. And they were occupied―by Hunters. I sucked in a surprised breath, and then froze. Jack grabbed my hand and dragged me into a copse of trees. They were barely enough to provide cover, but they were better than nothing.

  Some of the Hunters stood around in loose groups while others worked together. There was no mistaking the fact that we’d walked into an encampment designed for war. The sheer number of Hunters was enough to make my stomach sink. I couldn’t hope to count them all, but there seemed to be upwards of several hundred, all performing different tasks. At least a hundred of the fighting angels sparred with each other. Armor creaked and groaned as training weapons found their marks. Still more fighters practiced with bows. I blanched, intimidated by the sheer numbers of the army around us. Not only were there a lot of them, but they could all fight as if they each had the strength of several humans. Just how were we supposed to defeat an army that had us so outnumbered and outmatched?

  It was almost as if Jack could hear my thoughts. “We don’t have to figure out how to beat them just yet,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “It’s enough just to see what we’re up against.”

  I shook my head, unconvinced. “I’ve seen enough,” I whispered, leaning so close I breathed right into his ear. “We can tell the other Guardians that we’re hopelessly screwed. Now come on, let’s get out of here before they spot us.”

  Jack rolled his eyes at me. “Have a little faith,” he prompted, taking my hand in his own. “We have strengths we don’t even know about yet.” He drew another arch in the air behind the copse of trees. “And don’t forget―our kind has managed to survive them before, you know. We can do it again.”

  Whatever optimism I shared with Jack just then vanished when I heard a shout behind us. It was in a language I didn’t understand, but found vaguely recognizable. The shout was quickly taken up and repeated by other Hunters. I realized it didn’t matter what they were saying, when the message was clearly an unfriendly one. An arrow sank into the trunk of one of the spindly trees right beside us. It was so close I felt the wind of its passing on my cheek.

  “Hurry,” I demanded, shoving Jack in the shoulder. He gave me a dirty look, but the portal took shape much faster than before.

  Behind us, the clank of armor got closer. Another arrow whizzed past us.

  “Done!” Jack announced before pushing me, head first, into the shimmering space just in front of us.

  I stumbled forward, the shouts and cries behind us fading abruptly, before falling on my hands and knees into a completely different landscape.

  Rather than the regimental orderliness of the Hunter’s encampment, I found myself in a dim, fire-lit world with scattered tents and disorganized clumps of people. And… creatures. I couldn’t tell what kind, exactly. I just knew by the shape of them that they weren’t human. Several had wings unfurled. That made it easier to identify the Fallen, but there were still many figures that were too tall, too wide, or had too many teeth to be entirely mortal.

  The humans among them wore long, hooded robes that barely scraped the ground when they walked, producing a subtle swishing sound over the dry leaves and grass. They wandered between fires and tents as if they had total freedom, but looking closer, I noticed that a Fallen one or another unidentifiable supernatural always walked with them. That seemed consistent with what I had seen in the Twilight Kingdom. Freedom was obviously an illusion. These must be the Nephilim, then.

  Belial’s army.

  I strained to see if I recognized any of them. There was a large, ornate tent near the exact middle of the encampment. Pairs of supernaturals stood guard at each end. I thought I saw horns on one, and especially sharp teeth on another. The Nephilim I did manage to recognize were grouped around that tent. It made me wonder who, or what, was inside.

  Little Caroline Bedford stepped out of the tent, accompanied by Miranda Burke, the healer. Miranda had been pregnant when I last saw her, and was even more awkward on her feet now. I creased my forehead in frustration. What would happen to a pregnant woman once the fighting started? Or a young girl like Caroline? Even worse, I allowed myself to imagine what life would be like for them if Belial succeeded, and managed to keep his army of Nephilim Gifted forever.

  If that happened, Jack and I would find ourselves among their number, I was sure.

  One of the tent flaps opened, and Belial himself strode out. I tensed. Beside me, Jack gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. Belial couldn’t get to me, I tried to tell myself. Jack would make a portal, and besides, we could defend ourselves together. Still, my body refused to relax. I grew tenser the longer I stared at the tent. What was in it that required so much security? Perhaps it was Belial’s personal quarters, and there might be information or something else of importance in there. Perhaps we could even find out what had happened to Asheroth. I tugged on Jack’s hand, anxious to get inside. I indicated the tent with my eyes; Jack nodded.

  “Possible,” he acknowledged in a low voice. “But risky. You are seeing the same security I am, right?”

  “Just get us inside,” I told him irritably.

  Jack just shrugged and sketched another arch in the air. Before I had time to worry about someone seeing the light from the portal, Jack had already gone through, pulling me after him into the shimmering space. I fell onto a flat, soft surface on my hands and knees, temporarily stunned. Then I realized I had landed on carpet instead of grass. I wondered what kind of tent was luxurious enough to boast wall-to-wall carpeting.

  Jack pulled me up with surprising ease. His hands crept around my waist, his arms pulling me in tight against him. His eyes stared into mine. I stood there for a moment, momentarily stunned. “Jack?” I asked uncertainly.

  He reached up with shaking hands to brush my hair back from my face. “Caspia, I… need to show you something,” he said, breathing roughly, his arms still tight around me. Wordlessly, I nodded. He leaned in close, so close I could feel his breathing speeding up, could feel his heart pounding against mine through the thin fabric of my nightgown. His hands slid up to my shoulders, and massaged my upper arms. His grip turned firm again as he tensed up in front of me. His lips rested just beside my ear.

  “Don’t lose it, okay?” Jack said, and then turned me so that I could see what was in the middle of the room.

  In the center of the tent on a raised platform rested a stone pallet. A motionless figure reclined there, looking for the entire world like a gruesome statue. Blackened iron chains bound the figure to the platform. Hands formed into claws stretched out, frozen in the act of fighting or pleading. Wide eyes fixed on nothing while the figure itself arched its back as if it was in pain. Belial had most likely used some of his Darker gifts, under
who could imagine what kind of circumstances.

  It was Asheroth. Asheroth, frozen in place. Trapped in agony.

  I heard a small, agitated sound and realized it was coming from the back of my throat. Suddenly my hands no longer felt as if they belonged to me. They kept reaching out towards him. But Jack blocked my way, holding me around the waist. I struggled, pulling against his hold, even stomping on his foot, but he didn’t budge.

  “We have to help him,” I insisted, near tears now, unable to understand why Jack insisted on holding me back.

  “We’re just here to gather information,” Jack whispered fiercely. “Don’t you remember? We can’t afford to get caught.” His grip tightened for a moment. “I won’t let it happen. Not here. Not ever again.”

  Shadows flickered to life against my palms. Despite my best efforts at control, dark energy swelled and pulsed. My skin slid against Jack’s, where my arms grappled with his. The electric cold caressed his skin. I watched as his eyes widened in surprise, then felt the subtle blue glow of his tattoos. The familiar power we created leapt up between us, suffusing my body with a warmth and a strength I hadn’t felt before.

  Hope exploded into existence as I realized how powerful Jack and I could be here. We might even be enough to free Asheroth and fight our way out of here. I felt a new resolve as I stopped resisting Jack’s hold. I straightened so that my nose was level with his chin. “We’re stronger together,” I said, resting my hands on his forearms. “We can get him out of here.” My hands changed into fists. “In fact, I’m not leaving without him. And I don’t care who we have to kill to get him free.”

  circled the stone pallet, my horrified gaze locked on Asheroth. It was hard to believe it was him. In the time I had known him, Asheroth had been many things to me, but they all involved action. Yelling at me, dragging me places, forcing me through portals, and even just pacing like a madman―in almost every memory I had of him, he was busy, crazy, and vibrant. Yet here he was, chained to a stone, every square inch of him preternaturally still. Despite the obvious agony that racked his body, he seemed somehow distant. Damaged. Even his eyes looked empty.