The Devil's Soldier

by Rachel McClellan

  Boaz leaned forward. "Not until I'm done punishing you."

  "You can't torture me with magic," she said. "I won't let you."

  He stood and walked over to her, pocketing the necklace as he did so. Slowly, almost gently, he sat next to her. The motion was so unlike him that it frightened her.

  "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, "but I am going to insist that we spend the next twenty-four hours together. Just you and I. Like old time. Inseparable."

  28

  Lucien had never concentrated so hard in his life, not even in his training with Henry. But then again, he had never wanted something this bad before. He needed to free himself from the wolf's poison so he could catch up to Eve and stop her from going to Boaz. He was already afraid it was too late. He wasn't sure how much time had passed as it was.

  The mattress beneath him was soaked in sweat, and every one of his muscles burned to the bone. At least he could move his head and arms now.

  He closed his eyes tight and focused on the magic within him. He imagined it as a white light racing through his veins in search of the dark toxins that plagued him. When he encountered it, pain would rack his whole body, but within a few minutes he was able to expel it and move on to another part of his body.

  "That looks painful."

  His eyes opened. Charlie stood in the doorway. Before he could say anything else, Lucien reached out and, using magic, slammed Charlie against the nearby wall and closed the door behind him, trapping Charlie inside the room with him. Lucien closed his hand just a little. In response, an invisible force pressed against Charlie's throat.

  "You let her go," Lucien growled.

  Charlie coughed. "You heard us?"

  Lucien squeezed tighter. "Why?"

  Charlie kicked his legs and attempted to free himself from the invisible grip. Lucien wouldn't hurt him much more, but he was angry. He had heard Charlie say goodbye to Eve, like it was no big deal.

  "Let me explain," Charlie coughed out.

  Lucien released him, and Charlie fell to the ground, gasping for air. While he recovered, Lucien grunted as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His legs still wouldn't move, but at least he was upright.

  Charlie cleared his throat one more time and straightened. "I'm sorry, Lucien. Really I am. You know how much I love Eve, but I can't deny her future anymore. It's unpreventable."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Charlie crossed the room to a window on the other side and raised the blinds. The sky was a mixture of light pinks and deep oranges. Sunset. Had so much time already passed? Lucien clenched his jaw. There was no way he would get to Eve in time now.

  "Before you met Eve," Charlie began, "she had been following you around for several months."

  "I already know this."

  Charlie turned around to face him. "But what you don't know is that she came to me with some serious doubts. You were trapped in a dark place mentally, and she didn't know if she would be able to help you or not."

  Lucien lowered his gaze to the white tiled floor. He had been trapped, for centuries. It embarrassed him to think that Eve had seen him in that state.

  "So guess what Eve asked me to do?" Charlie asked.

  Lucien looked up, meeting Charlie's gaze.

  "She wanted to know her future with you. Just a couple of years, and just enough to know if you were worth saving."

  A sinking feeling spread in Lucien's gut.

  "I saw you, Lucien. I saw what you would become, what you two would become together. I knew the consequences, and I knew the rewards. There was much sorrow and much joy." Charlie turned his head and peered out the window, a shadow crossing his face. "I didn't see everything, but there were some things that terrified me. Then Eve died, and I thought I had somehow gotten it wrong."

  Charlie turned around. "Since the moment you told me Eve had survived, I've tried to change her fate, but the future will not be ignored. The plan is set, and I can't stop it. Finally, I accept this."

  "That doesn't mean I accept it. The future can be changed, and I will save her." Lucien attempted to move his right leg, but only his toes wiggled.

  Charlie walked back to him. "It's too late. The wheels are in motion. All you can do now is find a way to save Eve from Alarica, and I'm going to help you do that."

  "How?"

  The door flew open, and Rick rushed into the room.

  "It's time!" he said, out of breath. "The Vice President, or I should say President, is getting ready to speak."

  "I'll be right back," Charlie said and turned to go.

  "Wait!" Lucien said. "Take me with you."

  Charlie nodded at Rick, and together they looped one of Lucien's arms on each side of them and lifted him to a standing position.

  "You good?" Charlie asked him.

  "I hate this."

  "Get over it," Charlie said.

  He and Rick walked toward the door with Lucien's legs dragging behind. They carried him down the hall and into the elevator.

  "Why is the new President getting ready to speak?" Lucien asked. He had been so consumed with getting better for Eve that he hadn't even thought of the explosion.

  "Our sources tell us he's going to announce who killed the former President," Rick said. "We also hear that whoever did it has already been captured."

  "That doesn't make sense. We know who is responsible."

  The doors opened. Lucien managed to slide his right leg forward, but the left still hung awkwardly. They helped him into the conference room and sat him on a chair.

  "Not a fun experience, is it?" Henry asked. He was sitting at the table opposite of him, looking paler than usual. Lucien took note that Liane was not in the room.

  "I take it you've been bitten by Hunwald before?" Lucien asked.

  "Once. Although, I admit, I didn't recover as quickly as you did."

  "Turn it up," Charlie said to Rick. He dropped into a chair next to Lucien.

  Rick reached up to a flat screen television and pressed a button. The reporter talking on the screen came to life.

  "—just announced that the person behind the Harvard-Johnson bombing has been captured. We now go live to the White House where President Russell will address the nation."

  The screen switched over to President Russell standing behind a black podium. He looked young for being a President, but the way he stood all straight-like and how his hands gripped the sides of the podium, expressed a confidence not often found in the young.

  He wore a navy blue tailored suit with a red tie and his blond hair was slicked back meticulously. He appeared to be a normal human, but then he blinked and in that fraction of a second Lucien caught a glimpse of something old and powerful.

  Lucien and Henry glanced at each other. So Henry saw it, too. There was something very different about this man.

  "Ladies and gentleman," the President began. "Three days ago an explosion rocked the Harvard-Johnson center killing twenty-seven civilians, thirty-one congressmen, and our beloved President. It was one of the worst attacks on US soil since 9-11, and intelligence has confirmed it won't be the last."

  Reporters shouted out questions, but the President motioned his hands for them to quiet down.

  "Before any questions are asked, I want the American people to know that the group responsible will soon be brought to justice. The punishment will be swift and fierce. It's time for the whole world to be reminded of America's great power." He stared into the camera for one intense second.

  A cold chill worked its way up Lucien's spine. This President was not a man of idle threats.

  "Everything is about to change," Charlie whispered.

  "Several years ago," the President began, "our intelligence became aware of a new group of people, many very different from the rest of us. Not only do they have unique abilities, but their intentions toward the human race are sinister at best."

  The room exploded again in questions with every reporter's hand raised and waving. The President quieted them dow
n.

  "We need to find out everything we can about this man," Henry said. His hands were curled into fists. Lucien was too stunned to respond.

  "A security report will be released following this press conference. It will give you and the American people more specifics about this special group. Please read it first, and then you can direct any questions to a new department we have set up within the CIA."

  The President swallowed a drink from a water bottle on top of the podium. "Before I answer any more questions, I want to alleviate any fears the American people might have by the revelations in this report. Your government is ready and prepared to face this new threat. We have created our own special group who are highly equipped to track down this new threat, and rest assured, they will be successful."

  A man in a black suit walked up behind the President and whispered something in his ear.

  The President flexed his jaw, and his knuckles turned white from gripping the podium tighter.

  "I am out of time," he said. "I'll open the room for just a few questions."

  Hands shot into the air.

  The President pointed to a woman in the front. "Yes?"

  "You said there are people with unique abilities. Could you be more specific?"

  "All questions related to this group of people will be addressed in the report, which you will have shortly. Next question."

  Off to his left, a man spoke louder than the rest. "You seem very confident that you are going to catch those responsible. Can you tell us how you found them so quickly?"

  "One of them was killed in the explosion. A woman."

  Lucien glanced back at Charlie, his stomach sinking.

  "Do you have a name?" the reporter asked.

  "At this time, we only know her first name. Alana."

  29

  The color drained from Eve's face. Is he crazy?

  "I will not spend the night with you!" she said and leaned away from you.

  He chuckled. "As much as I would like that, I have never had to force a woman to be with me, and I'm not about to start now, especially with you."

  "Then what?"

  "I'm going to do this." He lifted his right arm and draped it around her shoulders. "And then I'm going to do this." He pulled her up against his chest. "And now we are just going to sit and talk."

  Every part of Eve tensed, and the bile in her stomach swirled a direction it wasn't meant to. She moved to sit up, but he gripped her shoulder tightly.

  "If you want to keep your friends safe, this is what I require. I hardly see how this is a problem."

  "But why?" she asked. "Why not just put that stupid necklace on me and be done with it?"

  "Because then you become Alarica. As much fun as she is, she's not you."

  Her mind spun a confusing web, giving her an instant headache. Something was wrong. Boaz had never felt any real emotions for her. It had all been an illusion so he could steal her powers.

  "You don't believe me," he said. "Despite what you may think, I am capable of feelings. The whole world is about to change, and, call me sentimental, but I'd like to hang on to the one thing that brought me true joy for just a day longer."

  Eve exhaled the breath she had been holding. What was he saying?

  "Don't get me wrong," he said quickly. "I welcome the change and will not change my course. You will be Alarica very soon and will restore my power, but not quite yet."

  "I don't understand," she said. "None of your feelings for me were real."

  "There were times when they were real. I really do like you, but it's just that… well, I like me more and always will."

  There was the Boaz she knew. "Will you release me from Alarica after I've restored your powers?"

  He laughed and pulled her back into him. "And have to battle you as Eve? I don't think so. Besides, you will be a powerful ally for what is to come. I'm going to need your abilities."

  Her blood turned cold. "What's coming?"

  He lifted his wrist to check the time on his watch. "In just a short time, the new President will be speaking to the American people about this great changes. You can see for yourself."

  Boaz wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. Eve stiffened. Boaz was right—this was torture and probably the only thing he could do to her to cause her the most suffering. But if he took it any further, she would use magic against him.

  "You smell so good," he said. He continued to touch her, smell her, and brush his cheek over her exposed neck.

  Eve put up with this for several minutes until she couldn't stand it anymore. "Isn't it time yet?"

  He slid his lips over her neck. "Perhaps." He reached behind him and picked up a remote from off an end table.

  He brought the TV to life. The Press Secretary was speaking to a room full of reporters, telling them that the President would be speaking soon.

  Eve leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Something bad was about to happen. She felt it in her bones, and the way Boaz was smiling big only confirmed her suspicions.

  President Russell came into the room and began to speak. He was a tall man and well built. He looked younger than most politicians, with smooth skin and blond hair, but his presence was commanding, almost overwhelming. He held eerily still, not plagued by the need to express himself with his hands. It was a trait many Supernaturals shared.

  "What is he?" she whispered.

  Boaz snorted but didn't answer.

  The President was in the middle of speaking about a report he would be releasing soon giving details about humans with special abilities. If she didn't know any better, she guessed he was about to announce to the world the existence of Supernaturals.

  She turned to Boaz. "Tell me he isn't—"

  "He is."

  "Do you know how dangerous that is going to be for not only humans, but Supernaturals, too? A war is going to start over this."

  Boaz leaned back into the seat. "Uh-huh."

  Eve stared at him incredulously, but when a reporter asked the President about capturing those responsible, she turned her attention back to the television.

  "One of them was killed in the explosion," he said, "A woman."

  Eve stood up and moved closer to the TV's screen.

  "Do you have a name?" the reporter asked.

  "At this time, we only know her first name. Alana."

  Someone else tried to ask a question, but the President cut him off. "I'm sorry, that's all the time I have." He left the stage, only to be replaced by the Press Secretary.

  Boaz turned the volume down on the television.

  Eve whirled around. "She's dead?"

  Boaz fisted his hands together, and exploded them outward, making the sound with his mouth as he did so. "Annihilated."

  "You're lying."

  "Believe what you want, but I know that Alana was inside that building when the bomb exploded." He frowned. "Crime never pays."

  Using magic, Eve mentally squeezed Boaz's throat tight. "Alana had nothing to do with that bomb, and you know it."

  Boaz waved his arm once in front of him, breaking her invisible grip. "That's not what the world is going to think once that report is out."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Boaz stood and walked in front of her. Her breathing quickened at their close proximity.

  "Let's just say that the Deific's name is mentioned," he said. "Finally the holy shroud will be lifted from that place, and the world will see it for what it is—an organization that harbors dangerous Supernaturals."

  Eve raised her arm to slap him, but he caught it just as quick. She stared into his eyes, fire burning inside her. He had to be stopped. Everything the Deific has built over the last two hundred years, all the good they had done, was about to be destroyed.

  "You want to go to them, don't you?" Boaz said. His tight grip on her hand remained. "Help them, possibly even save them from what is to come."

  "No," she said.

  A flicker of emotion crossed his face. Was t
hat hope?

  "I want you to change me into Alarica right now. No more waiting. Just do it." As much as she wanted to go back and help the Deific, she knew that whatever she did would be temporary. There was only one way to stop Boaz and his followers. She had to make Boaz killable.

  "I know what you're doing. You think that once I get my powers back, I can be killed." He paused and smiled. "I'd like to see someone try, especially that Lucien."

  "Don't say his name."

  Boaz narrowed his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned up. "I'll give you what you want, forfeit the remaining hours of our time together, on one condition."

  "What?"

  "I want you to kiss me."

  Eve reared back, yanking her hand away from his. "I won't do that."

  "Fine. Then let’s sit back down and talk. Just think of all that precious time you'll be losing, but I sure will enjoy it."

  She searched his eyes, wondering if she should put up a fight. She didn't want to kiss him, not as herself. She already had a pretty good idea that Alarica would do plenty of that on her own. A kiss with the devil. For what? An extra ten hours of time? Some part of her hoped that Lucien and Henry would find and destroy him that quickly. If there was that chance, no matter how small, she'd take it.

  "Let's get this over with," Eve said.

  Boaz snatched her hands surprisingly quick and pulled her to him. Her body pressed against his, and she gasped at the suddenness. His arm snaked around her lower back just above her pelvis and pressed her even closer. He stared into her eyes with a familiar fierceness that used to drive her mad with passion. Deep down, she couldn't deny that she still held some of those feelings, but she recognized that they came from a dark place, one that was easy to give into if she let herself.

  He reached up and grabbed her behind the neck. She expected him to be rough, to force his mouth against hers, but instead he pressed his forehead to hers and breathed softly, his eye closed. His brows were tight together, and jaw muscles flexed. Had he been an actual boyfriend, someone she cared about, she might've asked what was wrong, but Boaz was nothing to her.

  His eyes snapped open, and whatever he was feeling seconds ago, was replaced with a predatory glare. He took Eve then, his lips pressing tight to hers. The kiss was desperate and needy, and she had the distinct impression that he was trying to steal something from her, but she had nothing to give. Even when his tongue forced her mouth open, something she would've welcomed a long time ago, it sparked nothing inside her.