When mass ended, she erupted from her seat and ran down the aisle toward the outer door with the intent to go to her room and gather her weapons for the morning workout. She was stalled, however, when she saw the Warlord standing within a group of the Ikari warriors and trainers.
“I’ll be ready,” John was saying, “let the imps come.”
“Fallen angel or no,” another was saying, “we’ll give Azriel something to think about.”
The Warlord stood among his men, chest swollen with pride, nodding his approval at their vehemence.
Al-Kenna paused in the aisle and turned to look at Jesse. “Imps?”
“You know the price of information.”
She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t funny, Jesse. What about imps?”
Jesse grabbed her by the forearm and pulled her into a pew so they were out of the way of the people exiting the chapel.
“Azriel didn’t go to the Sudan to free the Nephilim,” Jesse said. “He went to the seventh portal. All the Ikari who guarded it are dead.”
She gaped. “What about the women and the—”
“Everyone’s dead. That’s why we had an emergency meeting last night. Raven was here with two vampires, and they say Azriel is going to release the imps and attack us. Raven set out for the Void this morning with the wizard Myrddin and the witch Aliceanna. Raven and Myrddin in our compound. I nearly pissed my pants when I saw them making their way through the fields toward the mountain ridge. And Aliceanna, that’s one hottie.”
Lust, desire, want were all forgotten as the ramifications of what Jesse said sank in. “They’re coming here? Azriel and the imps? We can’t face them alone. Our numbers are great, but there must be thousands of imps, not to mention the ghouls that are sure to be happy to lend a helping hand.”
“We’re not alone. Your Alaric—”
“He’s not my Alaric,” she snapped unnecessarily.
Jesse didn’t seem to notice. “Alaric says if we promise not to attack any member of the Alliance, he’ll help us.”
It all made sense now. She’d wondered what the fallen one had been doing at the compound with two vampires. This was why. Nobody had to go to Alaric to plead for assistance, he had come to them.
Al-Kenna was suddenly so angry, she could spit. The Warlord should have told her about Azriel’s plan, not Jesse. At the very least, Father Caleb could have come to her. She should be allowed to go fight beside the Ikari warriors. Her place was with them, not here at the compound, taking up space. If she knew the Warlord, he’d have her in the lower tunnels hiding with the women and children quicker than she could draw her sword.
She stepped back into the aisle and made her way toward the Warlord.
“Okay, okay,” the Warlord was saying. “Change and meet me in the field in fifteen and we’ll discuss strategy. There’s much we have to do to prepare.”
As the men tromped out of the sanctuary toward their rooms, Al-Kenna approached her father.
“I’m already dressed for practice,” she said, motioning toward her leggings and the black tank top. “Am I welcome at the war meeting?” She knew her voice was pure steel, but she didn’t care. She made no attempt to soften it.
He turned and seemed surprised to see her standing there. “Al-Kenna,” he said, giving her a rare smile. “I didn’t see you. But then, you’re so small, it’s easy to miss you. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Small but stealthy. Do you want me on the field or not?”
“That’s what I wanted to see you about. I’ve spoken with the Council this morning…you know of Raven’s visit by now?”
A glimmer of hope had her nodding. “Yes,” she added. “Jesse told me about the meeting with him and the two vampires.”
“Well, the Council has decided to evacuate the women and children. It’s not safe for them here.”
She nodded again. “Makes sense.”
He studied her for a moment, then took her hand and led her further into the chapel. At a polished wooden pew, he settled her on a seat and crouched beside her. His green eyes were narrowed and his lips were pursed as if he were deep in thought. “You, too,” he finally said.
“Me, too what?”
“We want you to leave the compound.” He held up a hand to keep her from speaking. “It’s only temporary. Once the situation with Azriel is settled, you can come home.”
She stared at him, aghast. “You plan to send me away?”
“We’re all in agreement. It’s not safe for you here.”
“Gerald stays, Jesse stays, while I’m exiled?”
“Not exiled. Protected.”
“I don’t need to be protected. I can protect myself.”
He placed his hands on her legs and squeezed gently, hoping to calm the coming storm. “You’re a female, Al-Kenna, you can’t expect—”
“Will you make a weakling out of me, then?” she interrupted. “Mayhap on my return, I’ll go daily to the greenhouse with the women and care for the plants. Gardening is a far more fitting endeavor for someone of my sex, isn’t that right, Warlord?”
His expression grew serious. She turned away from him, but he grabbed her by the forearm and stood, pulling her to her feet.
“We discussed this,” he said, his tone grim. “You’re not a warrior, so get that out of your head.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“I said, I’m not going anywhere.” Hell, she’d already dug her hole, why not jump in with both feet? She was beyond caring about what was proper or improper. Honor thy father, indeed. If the Warlord didn’t like her tone, it was too bad. She didn’t like his sexist behavior or his hypocrisy.
“The hell you aren’t,” he finally said.
“The hell I am.”
“You’re not so old I won’t turn you over my knee. I’m not certain what has come over you, but I suggest you get a hold of yourself. Right now.”
“You would keep a drunk to fight before you’d keep me?” She shook her head in disbelief. “That doesn’t make sense. I should stay here, I should fight beside you. What will Gerald do but make a mess of things?”
“These beings are powerful. You’re no match for them.”
“Azriel is so powerful and you keep Gerald? You keep a buffoon to do a warrior’s job.”
“You’re leaving the compound today. This isn’t open for discussion.”
“I’m immortal!”
“They can behead you, Al-Kenna. You’re my daughter. My child. I won’t let that happen.”
“Father, please. I can do this.”
“I’m not letting a woman to do a man’s job, and you’re not staying. If you try, I’ll have you chained and carried off the grounds physically.”
She pulled free of him. “You have trained me to be a warrior, not a woman. Let me be a part of this.”
He stepped away from the pew and started down the narrow aisle. “Discussion over,” he threw over his shoulder as he made his way to the doors. “Be packed and ready to leave by early evening. You’ll be leaving with the rest of the women and children before nightfall.”
“You’re nothing but a hypocrite!”
Galen paused a few feet from the door and slowly turned to face her. His features, contorted with rage, should have given her pause, but she was too angry to notice anyone else’s ire. Neither did she notice the small crowd that had gathered in the chapel and just beyond the doors.
“And what does that mean?” He began to walk toward her.
“It means just that. From the time I could walk, you taught me how to fight. You set a sword in my hand before I knew what it meant to be a woman. You made me what I am, Warlord, and now you remind me that I’m a woman. Yes, I’m a woman, but we can use that to our favor.”
“Is that right? I suppose I could ask Jesse about your varying talents. Just what precisely is it you intend to do? Make yourself into an Ikari whore?”
She took a step closer to him. “As you did
my mother?”
“Watch your mouth, little girl.”
“Go to hell!”
The blow knocked her off her feet and sent her sliding across the polished wooden floorboards on her back. Almost instantly, the taste of blood filled her mouth. Too stunned to get to her feet, too stunned even to catch the blood spilling from her nose before it marred the floor, she only stared up at him. His eyes blazed hot rage and he held his hand fisted, as though he would hit her again.
“If you ever speak thus to me again…” he began, but she cut him off.
“You can beat me black and blue, but you’ll still be a hypocrite.”
A roar of unfiltered fury erupted from him and he started forward. Hands clenched into tight fists, he seemed on the brink of pounding her into the ground. His rage was so great that had the Seer not appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, Al-Kenna was convinced he would have done precisely that. But in the manner of a saving angel, the Seer stepped between them and forced the Warlord to stop.
“Don’t you dare lay hands on the girl,” she said. “You’d never forgive yourself if you hurt her.”
“Do you hear how she speaks to me, Valetta?”
“You’re a liar,” Al-Kenna accused, “a hypocrite and a chauvinist!”
“Enough!” the Seer shouted. “Quiet yourself, Al-Kenna.”
“Out of my sight!” the Warlord ordered. “Get her out of my sight, Valetta, or I swear by all that we hold holy, I’ll beat her within an inch of her life.”
Finally wiping her face clean of blood, Al-Kenna got to her feet. Her legs felt weak beneath her and she felt lightheaded, but she had to leave, get out of there. She knew she’d crossed a line she’d never be able to re-cross. What was worse than the things she had said was the look on the Warlord’s face. There was anger there, but beneath that anger she saw pain.
Stupidly, as though it would help matters, she tried to execute a bow. Her legs were too wobbly beneath her, though. “I’m sorry, Warlord. Please forgive me.”
“Out of my sight.”
“Come, Al-Kenna,” the Seer said, holding out her hand to Al-Kenna.
She felt tears rising to her eyes and was helpless to staunch their flow. “Please, Father,” she tried again, “I’m sorry. Punish me, beat me if you must, but please, don’t be angry with…”
“Get out!”
She ran. The Meeting Hall was a haze as she pushed through the throng of onlookers and sprinted from the chapel into the main hall and out the front doors. She barely registered the chill December air; neither did she pay attention to where she was going. She ran full out, pumping her legs as fast as they’d take her over the low hills of the property and through the trees covering the grounds. She ran until the stone of the barrier wall encircling the property brought her to a stop. She collapsed onto her knees, pressed her face against the cold stone and cried.
What on earth had she been thinking? How could she have said those things to her father? And in the chapel, of all places. Had she lost her mind? She was angry with his injustice toward her, but it was an injustice built on love. He didn’t want her to stay because he didn’t want her to be hurt. In many ways, he wasn’t as strong as the Seer. If it were up to Valetta, Al-Kenna knew the Seer would have her stay here with every faith that Al-Kenna would be able to protect herself. The Warlord was too afraid for her to be sensible on the subject. No, she shouldn’t have confronted him. She should have gone to the Seer, waited in the Seer’s rooms had she not been there, and discussed things with her. The Seer was wise and always knew what was best.
“Feel better?”
Al-Kenna looked up and realized the Seer was standing over her. Her blonde curls were pinned atop her head and she was wearing a sheer pink dress that fluttered about her ankles. She looked so poised and so in control of herself that Al-Kenna felt all the more out of control.
“No,” she answered sullenly.
“What a display of hysterics. If you had set out to ensure your exile—as you call it—you couldn’t have done a better job.”
Al-Kenna shrugged. She already knew this. “What should I do?”
The Seer pulled at her long skirts and settled herself upon a boulder beside Al-Kenna. “Go.”
“But—”
“Your battle isn’t here.”
Al-Kenna stared at the Seer. “Plain English, if you please.”
“Leave the compound today. Your path leads elsewhere.”
“But—”
“Trust me. You’ll come back to the compound eventually, but for now, you must leave.”
“I can’t leave my home when it’s about to be invaded. You can’t mean to say you believe I should run off—”
“Do stop talking, Al-Kenna. The Warlord won’t let you fight. Do you remember what happened on the field yesterday when the ghouls attacked?”
“Yeah, I kicked major ghoul butt.”
“Do you remember what the Warlord did when he thought you were in trouble?”
Al-Kenna didn’t have to think about the question. Automatically, a memory of her father running to her rescue flashed. “He tried to rescue me from that ghoul that tried to strangle me.”
Valetta nodded. “If the Warlord sees you on the battlefield, his first impulse will be to protect you. He can’t fight that way. If you stay here, you’ll be risking his life. Is your pride so important?”
“It’s not my pride—”
“Isn’t it? You want to prove to everyone that being a woman doesn’t mean you can’t be a warrior.” She grew silent and studied Al-Kenna’s face.
Al-Kenna slumped forward. A feeling of dread and defeat descended on her. Her place was here, at the compound, defending her home and her brethren. It wasn’t fair that her chance birth as a female prevented her from doing what she’d been born to do. Still, she knew the Seer was right. If during the fighting the Warlord saw her fall into trouble, he would rush to her aid.
She sat up suddenly, the particles of an idea forming.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“What are you thinking, Al-Kenna? You’re blocking your thoughts from me again, and I don’t like it.”
Al-Kenna shook her head. The Seer had said if the Warlord saw her on the field, his first impulse would be to protect her. But what if he didn’t see her?
The Seer frowned. “What are you up to?”
Al-Kenna worked out a plan. “Nothing.”
Chapter Fourteen
Charity stiffened when she heard the creak of wood beyond the entrance again. Her sense of time was completely lost, and she had no idea how long she’d been in this room, but it seemed not much time had passed since Azriel had left. Was he returning already? She didn’t think she was emotionally recovered enough to deal with him again so soon after their last encounter. Still, the creaking continued.
As she stared, a pair of ebony wings appeared, then a head of sable hair.
Then Raven, or what looked like Raven, was there, stepping into the room.
He’d climbed up a ladder of sorts, though why he didn’t just fly up was anybody’s guess, and stood just inside the room, staring at her.
Charity felt frozen to the spot, afraid to hope, afraid to believe she was really seeing him.
He was shirtless. His wine-tipped nipples looked all the more pink under the summer sun and his chest was as chiseled, as well defined as she remembered. He wore tight leather pants. On Raven the material looked positively sinful. The fabric was so lush, she could see the silhouette of every curve and muscle. Charity sighed. Raven’s erection pulsed with life. He was thick and long and the sight of him was enough to have her in a swoon. Instantly, she felt her heart begin to race. Her mouth went dry and she had to struggle to remain calm.
When he came forward, she tried to roll off the bed and get to her feet. Unfortunately, silken scarves bound her arms to the bed. She gave the scarves a tug, but nothing happened.
She felt the bed dip as Raven crawled onto it and made his way, cat-like, up
her body. His eyes were level with hers and his stare was hot and hungry.
“Raven?” she finally asked.
He studied her. He was all raw energy and hot sex appeal. His body was so near now, she could feel his breath on her face, feel the heat of his body radiating off him. She wanted to touch him, feel him and know he was real.
“Raven?” She tried again. “Is it really you this time?”
He lifted a hand to touch her, but froze inches from her face, as if he were afraid to make contact. “Did he hurt you?” Raven said at last.
She saw the concern in his eyes, saw the grim set to his lips and she knew. This wasn’t Azriel. Azriel could mimic, but not perfectly. Always, Azriel wore that crazed grin.
“It’s really you, isn’t it?”
“Hush. We’re in The Void. There isn’t much time.”
“The Void? Is that another word for Hir na Gog?”
Raven frowned. “You’re no where Hir na Gog. There’s no time to explain. Azriel will be back soon. He’s…” he broke off. “That’s not important.”
She struggled to move closer to him, but couldn’t manage with her hands bound. “Raven,” she said again. “Don’t you want to hold me? Touch me?”
He shook his head. “We have to get you out of here. Azriel has created this illusion, this paradise for you, but make no mistake, it’s a prison. We have to leave before he returns.”
“No kidding!”
That brought a smile to his lips.
He moved off the bed and made his way behind her to where her wrists were bound. She had to twist around so she could see him.
His fingers were light as doves on her skin, and she realized then he hadn’t been joking about not wanting to touch her. The contact was minimal, but efficient. As he worked, he spoke in a low voice.
“The Void exists in a different dimension than your world. It’s an incorporeal place; real, but unreal. It’s a place that can be manipulated by its inhabitants, understand?”
She shook her head.
Raven gazed out the doorway for a moment, then turned back to her. “I’ll show you.” He closed his eyes for a moment and she found herself gazing at the long, sable lashes over his eyes. “I want to be with you in Prague again,” he said, then added, “Close your eyes.”
Nephilim War: Book 2 Page 13
