Echo (The Halo Series Book 2)
Page 14
Dead demons, dead patrons, dead silence.
Then, his gaze met Sev’s. The Brit had been kneeling down next to him, his parchment-white face inches from his own, terror in his eyes, followed by relief. But that had been a split second before Sev had gone back to keeping his distance from him not long after. Which pissed Chord off more than anything. Clearly, Sev cared about him to some extent…but it was also clear he didn’t want to.
So, now, Chord got to take his anger out on beasts and demons. And it felt damned good. Screw training for months. Just dangle a perfect male specimen in front of him, far enough out of reach to make him sexually and emotionally frustrated, and—BAM—he was a fighting machine. Stab here, decapitation there. Dismemberment, blood, guts, and other stuff.
Screw Sev. Screw him and his sexy, brilliant, British ways. Screw the fact that he cares more about writing a demon compendium than being with me.
These words replayed over and over like a not-at-all-humorous GIF in Chord’s brain. Anger and resentment and sexual frustration fueled the slicing and dicing of malignant beings over the next however many minutes. His vision was covered in a veil of red.
That was, until his eyes landed on Sev, who had somehow managed to get himself pinned against the metal iron fence by two beasts. One of them wrapped his hands around Sev’s neck and lifted him up, jagged dagger held back, poised for the kill.
All of Chord’s anger was replaced with fear—and then he sprung into action. Halos didn’t have wings, of course, so Chord couldn’t fly to Sev’s side, but he sure as hell felt like he did. It took him seconds to do away with the onlooker beast and another three to press the tip of his weapon into the back of the other, the one holding a struggling Sev.
“Drop him, you mother-fucking-clown-demon.” Chord pressed the point of the blade further into the beast’s spine. The evil bastard swiveled his head around to look at him. His solid-black eyes held no fear of death, but rather appeared amused, the corners of his stitched mouth attempting to turn up.
Sev let out a gargled gasp as the beast squeezed his windpipe tighter.
“Fine. You were warned.” Pulling back slightly, Chord shoved the sword through the beast’s torso. The creature crumpled to the ground, Sev falling with him. “Not that I wouldn’t have killed you anyway.”
Sev’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession as he rubbed his neck and looked up at Chord with wide eyes.
“Thank—” Sev began.
Chord cut him off. “Don’t bother thanking me. Just doing my heavenly duty.”
AURORA
There was something about the feeling of being chased that diminished the pain and fatigue that came with climbing a billion stairs. Keva’s long legs propelled her up the staircase to Big Ben, but Aurora’s determination to outrun the evil creatures flooding the stairwell behind them kept her from being left behind.
“Hurry!” Keva threw the word over her shoulder as they finally reached the black door at the top of the stairs leading out to the belfry into the open air.
Well, maybe it wasn’t open air. A metal screen covered the large, cutout cathedral windows. Probably to keep people from falling to their deaths.
A biting London breeze blew through the screens, chilling her through her thick Halo armor. Aurora turned her head to the side as a violent shiver wracked her body. Then her eyes landed on the tower’s nickname-sake.
Big Ben certainly lived up to his name. The massive bell was suspended above a wooden platform in the middle of the belfry, surrounded by a square cage. The four smaller bells hung above them, at the four corners of the cage. The tower was impressive. But, that’s all it was.
Aurora revolved in a slightly panicked circle. “Where is the soul keeper?”
Keva’s brow creased in worry as her green eyes scanned the area…then they traveled up. She whispered, “The Ayrton Light.”
Aurora flashed her a puzzled glance. “The what-ton what?”
Keva answered by extending her right arm and pointing skyward. Aurora’s head tilted back to see there was more to the tower. The rest was all metal and screens with the dark sky peeking through, the stars just barely visible.
Keva moved to the metal spiral staircase, and Aurora followed.
They climbed to the bell platform—a wide, metal walkway around the perimeter of the square tower. Bars and railings ran along the middle, to keep patrons from falling onto the bells below; because humans were too dumb to be trusted to walk along elevated places without the worry of them falling over the edge. Railings were a necessity.
Aurora remembered visiting the Grand Canyon once when she was much younger and asking her mom, “Why do they have these tall fences? I can’t see anything.”
“It’s to keep people safe, to keep them from falling or getting hurt.”
Aurora’s younger self had thought it was silly back then. Why didn’t people just know not to walk off the edge? Were they that stupid? Why did they have to build walls? Her older self, though, had grown to appreciate walls. Not because they kept people in, but because they kept them out.
“He’s up there.” Keva’s voice was barely louder than a whisper. Aurora pulled herself from her inane reverie and craned her neck back for what felt like the billionth time in the past twenty minutes.
A figure decked in white could be seen pacing above them, in the last section of the tower, the place that held the Ayrton Light—whatever that was. Keva approached the base of yet another staircase and turned around, her cloak swishing with the movement. “You stay here.”
“But—”
“This is a mission for a Dominion Halo, Aurora. You’re not meant to meet with the soul keeper. Stay here and keep the demons from getting up there for as long as possible. That door down in the belfry will only hold so long.”
Feeling slightly discarded, Aurora shrugged her shoulders, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the metal railing as Keva made the journey up the last soaring spiral staircase. This whole saving the world thing was a lot less glamorous than she’d expected. She’d hardly even gotten to kill any demons.
Craning her neck to the left and right, Aurora tried to see what the soul keeper looked like, to hear what the two of them were saying, but the wind was too loud. When the strong breeze momentarily ceased, though, she didn’t hear Keva’s voice; she heard snarling, grunting, and the heavy clomping of running feet far beneath her.
Small windows were stamped around the faces of the solid metal walls in the bell platform. Aurora moved quickly over to one. Standing up on the balls of her feet, and hooking her fingers through the open metal screens, she pulled herself up to see below.
It was difficult to discern any individual creatures in the chaos, but the flashes of red in the sea of darkness could have been Halo armor…or blood.
The image of the other Power Halos appeared in the forefront of her mind, and she immediately took back her earlier gripe about her lack of fighting.
She’d volunteered to join the Dominion Halos in their race to the tower because she’d thought it would be the most dangerous. She’d been trying to protect the others. Now, it seemed, she was the sitting duck, and they were the ones in mortal peril.
Then a multitude of things happened all at once. A brilliant light exploded above Aurora, washing out all sight, the tower shook violently, causing her fingers to be wrenched painfully from the metal screen covering the window, forcing her to the grated ground.
Then a crashing sound—like a door being kicked in—came from the belfry below.
This all took place within a matter of 10 seconds, but it felt like much longer. As the aftereffects of the tremor wore off, Aurora was able to push herself up, though this was hardly necessary, as she could see through the metal floor screen.
Two demons that looked like some sort of massive breed of dog moved slowly into the belfry, led by a hooded figure. Well—he was hooded. But, now, he grasped the edges of the fabric and pulled the material up and back so his face was plainly v
isible.
Aurora felt like she might faint. She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Suddenly she felt like she couldn’t get enough air. She was suffocating. And it wasn’t the demons causing this reaction in her. It was the hooded man leading them—more loathsome than any demon pulled from the pits of hell.
The demon of her past.
The demon who haunted her nightmares.
David.
Twenty-Four
BRIELLE
Brielle had lost count of how many demons she’d killed, but she was finally beginning to see a change in their number.
At first, it felt as though she was fighting quicksand—thrashing and flailing, yet getting sucked deeper under, threatening to be overtaken by darkness. Now that half of the demons and beasts had fled to the tower, those remaining were more manageable.
Brielle consciously kept to attacking demons rather than beasts. They were part human, and she still wasn’t sure how she felt about killing them.
That was, until she spotted Logan fighting two of the humanoids on the bridge, backing closer and closer to the edge. Employing the skills she’d learned on Arx Isle, Brielle ducked and dodged their attacks with expert speed. But they were closing in on Logan, and there was nowhere for her to go but into the freezing water of the Thames.
Brielle cut a path through the thick mess of demons, finally having grown used to the massive sword the Dominion Halo had gifted to her. Thick, tar-like demon blood coated the weapon now. The only time she truly felt like a half-angel was in battle.
Her strength should have long since left her, and her body should have given out with fatigue by now. But it hadn’t. If anything, she felt stronger, more able to take on the vile creatures infesting London.
Brielle made it to the edge of the bridge, Logan a mere fifteen feet away. The fierce fighter had managed to take out one of the beasts by climbing onto the wide rail along the bridge, procuring higher ground. Higher ground, but closer to much lower ground—as in the rushing river just a footstep away.
The remaining beast was a particularly agile fighter, dodging all of Logan’s attacks. Brielle knew it was only a matter of time before—
A startled curse rang through the air and Brielle shouted, “Logan!” as what she'd feared would happen, did. Logan stepped a few inches too far back, and the beast took advantage of this, slashing out with his dagger.
Logan’s body made a graceful arc as she reacted to the attack, falling backward off the bridge and plunging into the water below.
Brielle charged at the beast, who whirled around just in time for her long blade to plunge through the dark girl’s abdomen. The beast, a female who reminded her strongly of an old next-door neighbor, collapsed in on herself, shadowed eyes widening and then going blank.
Chest heaving, Brielle pulled out the blood-soaked sword, pushing back the wave of nausea that came as she realized beasts bled red.
There wasn’t time to focus on the questionable morality of her actions, though, because Logan was the priority. Clutching the handle of her sword tighter, Brielle ran to the edge of the bridge, looking over. She thought she saw a glimpse of Logan’s black and blue hair peeking out from her crimson collar.
Not thinking twice, Brielle climbed onto the parapet, took a deep gulp of cold air, and leapt off the bridge.
The fall was a lot longer than she’d estimated, and when she crashed into the water, it felt like being stabbed all over with white-hot knives.
But panic overshadowed the pain.
Head swiveling left and right, Brielle quickly located Logan’s floating form under the shadows of the bridge. Swimming faster than she ever had in her life, ignoring the pain of the cold water, she made it to Logan. Her makeup-smeared eyes were shut, and her red lipsticked mouth hung open.
It took nearly all of Brielle’s remaining strength to drag her to the nearest dock and the last of it to tug her onto the damp wood.
Brielle put an ear to Logan’s chest; she didn’t seem to be breathing. Searching her brain for everything she knew about mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, she plugged Logan’s nose and blew two short breaths into her mouth.
Logan’s lips turned up into a smile and she half-choked, half-laughed. “You’re lucky I wasn’t actually drowning, or else I’d probably be dead by now.”
Brielle’s mouth fell open as she slowly realized Logan had been pretending. She looked down to see if the beast’s knife cut her. No blood was present, only a shallow tear in the thick, leathery armor.
Teeth clenching, Brielle let out an angry breath. “You seriously faked drowning to see if I’d jump in and save you?”
Logan innocently blinked her lashes, stuck together from the river water, and flashed a wry smiled. “No. I’m not that evil. But, when I heard you jump into the water, I figured I might as well have a little bit of fun before going back to the battle.”
Biting the insides of her cheeks, Brielle shook her head in frustration, looking away from Logan. She felt a hand on her arm. “Don’t be mad. I’m sorry—” Her words were cut off by Brielle’s lips, now pressed fervently against Logan’s.
Brielle had been thinking of doing this again ever since that day of training on the side of that fake building. The logical side of her brain told her she was being ridiculous. Immoral.
It was inappropriate for her to want to do such a thing. But here she was, Logan’s hands in her hair, Brielle’s legs straddling her lap, kissing the hell out of a girl who made her crazier than any boy ever had…and thoroughly enjoying every second of it.
Twenty-Five
AURORA
The pair of dog-demons hovered behind David in obedience, as though under his control. That made sense, Aurora thought. Control was his specialty. Unlike her, who couldn’t even control her limbs, at the moment.
She willed her arms to push her up, willed her legs to stand—to fight the demon that had haunted her nightmares. But her extremities wouldn’t listen. They were frozen in place like rusted hinges.
She watched through the grated metal floor as David scanned the belfry with his icicle eyes. Though nearly ten years had passed since she’d last seen him, he hadn’t aged. His face—nothing but skin, muscle, and bone—was still smooth-shaven and his cheeks still sank in like he was sucking on a hard candy. Straight brown hair combed perfectly to one side.
He was beautiful in the worst way.
Aurora’s heart was not only racing but palpitating as if it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to stop or speed up. Before now, she’d always thought dying of fright was laughable—what a pathetic way to die. Now, maybe, she understood.
David stopped, his eyes moving slowly upward until they landed on Aurora. This time, her heart did arrest for a moment, along with her breathing. The corners of David’s thin mouth ever-so-slowly turned up into a sickening smile.
Despite their distance apart, she heard him speak, “Well, if it isn’t the little lamb.”
These words made the blood pulsing through her now rapidly beating heart feel like ice. And, as he moved slowly and gracefully up the staircase toward her, she felt her body grow weaker and weaker.
After years of building up her walls to keep from getting hurt again, David needed only to show his face, and all of that crumbled away like a gingerbread house dunked in milk. It had all been a façade. She wasn’t strong. She wasn’t a warrior.
She was a little lamb.
David moved forward until he was only feet away from Aurora. “What? No hug? No, ‘Nice to see you, David. It’s been awhile?’ Tsk, tsk. Still haven’t improved your manners, I see.”
“You’re a beast?” was all Aurora could manage.
David laughed and casually rested an arm on the inner metal railing. “I’m far more than just a beast. Those cretins are merely humans infected with demon blood. I was created as you were created.”
“You’re not a Halo,” Aurora stated with certainty. Unless he’d been created by an evil angel like Lucifer.
David snorted at
this. “Of course not.”
“So…what then? You’re a Horn? A half demon?”
“Not just any demon. My father is Sargatanas—a traitor through and through. Once an angel in heaven who fell with Lucifer. He grew powerful in hell too, and, when word reached him of Caducus’s plan, he left Lucifer to serve a new king, bringing armies of loyal demons with him.”
“You must be so proud.” Aurora meant her words to be cutting, but her voice shook as she spoke, killing the effect.
David tilted his head to the side in mock sympathy. “Sneer all you want, little lamb, but only one of us knows who their father is.”
Aurora’s teeth clenched as she climbed to her feet, slowly, so as not to invite an attack by David. Her knees knocked together, and she wished she felt as strong and sure of herself as David looked.
“Why are you here?” she asked. “You know you’re too late. The city has already been locked.” She kept her eyes on him, though they longed to look upward to see if Keva and the soul keeper were still hovering on the floor above them.
“I came to see you.” He took a step closer to her. “Though, your greeting is not what I’d hoped. Incredibly rude.”
“Sorry. I’m not feeling all that sociable at the moment. So, either try to kill me or leave.”
David shook his head and laughed malevolently. “Oh, I’m not going to kill you just yet. I haven’t gotten to play with you nearly enough. You know how I like our little games.”
These words sent a stabbing chill across Aurora’s skin. David took another step closer, then his hand flashed forward, wrapping around the back of her neck and pulling her to him, so their bodies were pressed up against one another.
Cold breath pooled on her face like smoke.