The Devil's Soldier

by Rachel McClellan

  The sensation stopped, and Lucien fell forward into the table.

  "That's a big attack," Henry said. "They are much easier to ward off because you can recognize the assault."

  "That was supposed to be easy?" He swatted at a slight tickling on his neck, as if a spider were crawling there.

  "It's the small ones you have to watch out for."

  "I doubt that."

  "Do you realize I'm taking your magic right now?"

  He sat up straight. "You are?"

  "Focus. You will notice the intrusion if you know to look for it."

  Lucien concentrated on his body. The slight tickling was still on his neck. "I think I feel it."

  "So stop me."

  "How?"

  "Push back."

  Lucien stared him in the eyes, trying to get his mind to close off but he couldn't tell what the hell he was doing. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and breathed heavily. "Why am I getting so tired?"

  "Because now I'm taking even more of your magic. Soon it's going to hurt."

  Lucien strained hard, focusing on the tingling sensation on his neck, but a pain, similar to how he imagined it would feel to have a hot sword poke through his lungs, set his chest on fire. He growled a terrible cry, a sound he didn't know he could make.

  Henry slammed his fist on the table. "Fight me!"

  Lucien mentally pushed back, but the pain proved too great. He clutched his head and fell off the chair to the ground. The connection dropped, giving him instant relief. He sucked in great gulps of air.

  "This is going to take longer than I thought," Henry said. "Maybe we should try again in a few hours."

  Lucien dragged himself back into the chair, his hands and legs shaking. "Again," he whispered in between breaths. "And don't stop. No matter what."

  He couldn't stop, not if Eve was out there. He had to get to her before Boaz did.

  5

  Eve tightened her grip around the steering wheel. The car's headlights lit up the winding road as she drove through a remote part of northern New Hampshire. It was pitch black even though the sun had set less than an hour ago. The New Hampshire forests had a way of making everything seem darker than they really were.

  The car's light was the only thing soothing her nerves right now. Never in a million years did she think she would return to her grandfather's house, but it was part of her plan. She needed information, and her aunt, Anne Segur, was probably the only one who could give it to her.

  It had been difficult to leave Dmitri and the sanctuary of the monastery. It was peaceful there, and she was safe. Besides, she'd never done anything like this before—actively seek out someone who wanted her dead. But she didn't have a choice. With Boaz still out there, the lives of everyone she cared about was at risk, especially Lucien's.

  Eve reached over and took Dmitri's book in her hand. A priceless gift. She'd read it cover to cover at least four times in the last few days. Ellenore had been an amazing person and a powerful witch. She cared greatly for everyone and had actively sought out Supernaturals in hopes of helping them learn a different way.

  There were also some powerful spells in the book; many were well past Eve's ability, but she would practice them all. She'd need every bit of help if she was to defeat Boaz.

  The headlights beam flashed on a closed iron gate just up ahead. Eve slowed the car and parked in front, the gentle hum of the engine idling low. She didn't remember the long lane to her grandfather's house having gates before.

  Then again, she wouldn't have noticed if there had been gates, seeing how last time she was here years ago, she had been kidnapped by her grandfather and forced to fight her twin cousins. That had been a huge turning point for her, and not a good one. She had fought and won , thereby winning her grandfather's inheritance, but it had come with a price—her cousin's, Harriet's, life.

  Eve stepped out of the car and approached the gates. It felt darker here, much darker than it had been when she left the airport two hours ago. She tried hard not to shiver, but it came anyway.

  She glanced to each side of the blocked entrance, but couldn't find a box where she could ring the house. She inspected the gates. They weren't automatic, and she couldn't find a lock. With both hands, she pushed on the metal bars. They gave a great groan, but opened wide.

  Eve ducked back into the car and drove slowly down the long private lane to the house. Trees and bushes on both sides of the road were overgrown—something she did remember. In even worse condition were the two lion statues in front of the house. One of them had been smashed into tiny pieces.

  What had happened here?

  Eve parked the car near the sidewalk leading to the front door. After a deep breath, she left the vehicle and took her time reaching the front door of the mansion. For only being nine o'clock at night, the house was dark and silent. She would have called had there been a telephone number, but she had found none listed online.

  When no one answered her knock, Eve turned the knob and creaked open the door.

  "Hello?" she asked, her pulse racing. "This is Eve. I've come to visit. Anyone home?"

  A heavy silence answered back.

  Eve stepped inside and flipped on the lights, but nothing happened. The power was off. And apparently the heat too. She shivered and removed her cell phone from her pocket and turned on the flashlight app. It wasn't a lot of light, but it would have to do.

  The great living room was covered in dust, and much of the furniture was missing. She might have thought the place had been abandoned, but there were bare footprints pressed into the dust on the floor.

  "Hello?"

  Eve moved farther into the home, peering inside every room. Other than some furniture covered with white sheets, the rooms were mostly empty and undisturbed. The kitchen, however, had been used. Recently. Soup steamed from a pot on a gas stove. The only sign of warmth in the huge home.

  Eve followed a worn trail through the dust on the floor to a room at the end of a long hall. Even though she was freezing, sweat pooled in her pits and dotted her brow. She stopped in front of an antiqued door and inhaled deeply, apprehensive for what lay beyond. Quietly, she pushed it open.

  A fireplace roared in a wide stone hearth on the other side of the room, yet Eve could still see her breath. A four-poster bed was pressed against the wall, and in a single Queen Anne chair near the fireplace was Aunt Anne, leaning toward the roaring flames and holding a glass of wine. Her hair was thin and straight, and she was all skin and bones.

  "Anne?" Eve asked and took a tentative step toward her.

  Anne didn't look back, but she did swirl the red wine within her glass. "You're late."

  "Am I?"

  "You've been ‘dead’ for almost three months. You should've been here sooner."

  "How did you know I wasn't dead?"

  "Segurs don't die unless we want to." Her words were bitter and chilled the room even more, if that were possible.

  "How did you know I was coming?"

  "Because of Boaz."

  Eve's heart skipped a beat.

  "He thinks there's a small chance you are alive," Anne said, slouching back into the seat. "He was here almost two weeks ago."

  Eve's legs weakened. That was about the same time she had mentally called out to Lucien. Had Lucien actually heard her cry? No doubt if he had, he would've had a major reaction. A witch monitoring him could easily pick up on those emotions.

  "He killed Helen." Anne's voice didn't crack or waver.

  Helen was Anne's daughter and had been the surviving twin from Eve's battle against them. Without her sister, Helen had withdrawn from the world and barely spoke or ate. Eve might as well have killed both of them.

  Eve stumbled to the edge of the bed and sat down. "Why would he do that?"

  "He's desperate for magic. He took every last drop she had. Not like Helen cared, though. She had been a vegetable ever since you killed Harriet."

  Eve couldn't swallow the lump in her throat.
It didn't help that bile was trying to come up around it. "I'm so sorry."

  "Don't be weak," Anne snapped. "It's disgusting."

  For the first time, Anne looked at her. Cheekbones protruded sharply from her face, a sharp contrast to her sunken eyes.

  Eve had forgotten how most Supernaturals, especially those in her family, hated any kind of emotions, particularly those of compassion and love. "Aren't you angry?"

  Anne shrugged, spilling wine over the rim of her glass. "Death comes to us all."

  "What did Boaz want?" Eve asked. The quicker she got out of here the better. This home was a black hole created by the ghosts who had inhabited it. No wonder it was so cold. Soon Anne would become one of them, too.

  "He doesn't think you are dead. He thought I might know something."

  "What did you tell him?"

  "I knew nothing to tell." Anne glanced back at her again. "It would've been better if you had died."

  "Why's that?"

  "Boaz will find you, and when he does, that necklace is going around your neck. Then the whole world will bleed."

  "I won't let that happen. I'm going to stop him."

  Anne laughed, a short, curt snort. "Don't you think others have tried? Boaz can't be stopped without the Originals, and one of them died off long ago. No, the best thing you can do is slit your own throat and die."

  "The Originals?"

  "The four families who stripped Boaz of his powers in the first place. The ones who made that necklace."

  Eve's eyes widened in understanding. They didn't know about Henry! No wonder Henry was so secretive. It all made sense now. Why Henry was so desperate for Eve to find and help Lucien. With Lucien and Henry, and her having both Segur and Whitmore blood in her, they could stop Boaz!

  "Is there a way to destroy the necklace?" Eve asked. Maybe if they could eliminate that threat over Eve's head, they could more aggressively pursue Boaz.

  Anne shook her head. "The necklace is eternal. The best you can hope for is releasing Boaz's powers from it."

  "But is that even possible? I thought the magic within it only works when I wear it, because of my combined witch blood?"

  Anne scrunched her thin nose. "Only for you, huh? Do you miss the power? Anxious to get back to it?" She laughed. "Do you really think that's all Boaz wants to do with it? Give you added powers so he can use them too?"

  Eve tucked her hands beneath her legs on the bed to keep them from shaking. "I don't understand."

  "Boaz needs a powerful witch to release his powers from the necklace. The only one who can do it is someone who has the combined magic of the original two families. Add this to Boaz's power in the necklace, and finally you will have someone strong enough to release his magic." She sighed as if bored. "That's all he wants from you. He thought this would happen last time he put the necklace on you, but he misunderstood his own powers within the orb. It won't share with anyone. But he's found a way around this, thanks to your mother."

  Eve finally swallowed. "What will happen when Boaz gets his powers back?"

  Anne said nothing for a moment. The fire cracked and spit within the stone hearth, but Eve still felt no heat from its flames. Maybe it wasn't a real fire. Maybe it was just an illusion created by Anne.

  "The world as you know it will change," Anne said. "Humans will be brought to their knees. The ones allowed to live, anyway. With just a thought, Boaz will be able to kill whomever he pleases."

  Eve thought back to when she was Alarica. The necklace had allowed her to destroy things in the same way. Boaz would be so much more destructive. "How do we kill him?"

  Anne finished the last of the wine. "You have to return his powers."

  "But that doesn't make any sense."

  "It's the only way. He has to be made whole to be destroyed. That's where our ancestors got it wrong. Instead of killing him, they took his powers from him. They wanted to study him, wanted to understand his magic." Anne dropped the glass on the floor, shattering it into bits. "Wanted it for themselves."

  "How do you know this?"

  Anne shakily stood and crossed the room to a bookshelf in the corner. Her skimpy black gown barely stayed on her bony body. She removed an old leather bound book and tossed it to Eve. She barely managed to catch it.

  "A journal from one of the original families. It's all right there," Anne said.

  Eve opened the worn cover—a lone name was scribbled on the first page: Henry Archer.

  "Maybe he was wrong," she whispered, more to herself than Anne.

  "He wasn't." Anne slid back into the chair. "He tried killing Boaz while they had him locked up. A magical force, one he didn't even understand, prevented Boaz from dying."

  Eve didn't mean to let go, but the journal fell from her hands and thumped against the wooden floor. Henry knew this whole time. He knew the only way to destroy Boaz was to have his powers returned to him, which meant he knew Eve would have to wear that cursed necklace again to turn her back into Alarica. She shook her head. It can't be true.

  Anne snorted again. "There's an ax in the garage. Say the word, and I'll cut your head off."

  Eve picked up the journal. "There has to be another way. Where do I find Boaz?"

  Anne shrugged, and the strap of her gown fell from her shoulder.

  "You must know something."

  "There's a club in New York City--Eclipse. Someone there might know. Now leave me. I'm tired."

  Eve stood up from the bed, taking the journal with her. She stopped at the door and turned back around. "Come with me. I can help you."

  "I don't want your help."

  "Then let someone else help you. There's a monastery in France—"

  "Get out."

  Eve left the room, colder than ever. The ghosts here were strong, one giant poltergeist that would never let go of their misery. Just like Anne.

  Despite what Anne had said, Eve would find a way to stop Boaz without giving him back his powers. There's no way she would ever willingly put that necklace around her neck again. If it came to that, she would take that ax and find a way to cut off her own head.

  6

  "Again," Lucien said, sweat dripping from his face. He had fallen off his chair for the third time, unable to withstand Henry's mental attacks on his mind. The few motivational posters hanging on the conference room walls shifted downward and the lights dimmed. Lucien focused his vision. He couldn't lose consciousness.

  Henry shook his head. "We're going on five hours. You need to rest."

  Lucien crawled back into a sitting position, his back against the wall. "If I can sit up, then I still have strength. Again."

  Henry breathed in deeply through his nose. "Something is blocking you. Your magical abilities are far greater than I expected for such short training, but for some reason, you can't stop me from taking your magic. Why?"

  Lucien had been wondering the same thing. For the last two weeks, he had pushed himself hard to learn all that he could about magic, even speed reading through many of the spell books in the upstairs library. He understood it all, and he was surprised at how easy it came to him. So why couldn't he block Henry's attempts at taking his magic?

  He groaned and dropped his head back against the wall.

  "We will try again tomorrow morning," Henry said and stood. He extended a hand to Lucien.

  Lucien accepted and let Henry pull him up. He stumbled into the table, but managed to keep his legs beneath him.

  "There's blood in the fridge," Henry said. "I'll get you some."

  Lucien dropped into a nearby chair, his jaw locked tight. If he couldn't figure this out soon, then he would never be able to help Eve, wherever she was. Since his powers had grown, he thought for sure he would be able to find her in his dreams—the way they used to communicate whenever they were in danger—but he only ever encountered a heavy fog that held no mention of her, not even a memory. It was as if she had never existed.

  He tried not to get discouraged. He couldn't deny that he had heard her, but
as more days passed, he considered that maybe the sound had been his own subconscious, a longing to hear her voice one last time.

  Henry returned and dropped a blood bag onto the table. Lucien tore into the small plastic tube at the top of the blood bag, desperate to gain back some energy.

  "There's been another death," Henry said.

  Lucien waited until half the blood was gone before he asked, "Where's this one?"

  "California. Another governor."

  "How?"

  "Plane crash. My guess is Charlie will find something supernatural about it just like all the other deaths."

  "What are humans saying?" Lucien asked before he returned to draining the bag.

  "They are starting to talk, in secret, of course. The DOD is investigating, and they've asked for our assistance. I've sent over a guy to try and steer them into a different direction for the time being."

  "Why?" Lucien asked and sucked up the last of the blood. "Wouldn't it be better if they knew what they could be up against?"

  "If this is Boaz, then it would be better if they didn't know. There's nothing they can do to stop him, anyway."

  Lucien slid the empty blood bag away from him. "Then why hasn't Boaz tried something like this before?"

  "Because he hasn't had the support from other Supernaturals like he does now. Something's changed to make them more confident that he could actually take over."

  Someone knocked on the door. Lucien quickly grabbed the blood bag and hid it onto his lap under the table. There were many in the Deific office who didn't know the true purpose of the organization. They simply thought it was the accounting office they advertised themselves to be.

  "Come in," Henry said.

  Charlie opened the door and walked in, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "Rick's finally got something. He wants us downstairs." His gaze went to Lucien. "Thanks for making the place smell like a sweaty, high school locker room. Maybe you should shower before you come down."