“What are you doing?”
“Saving father’s creation from destruction.” He smiled and his eyes lit up with warmth and comfort. “You’re not my Eve, I know that now, and this world is not for me.” He shoved me aside, ripping the final vestige of grace from my body.
The threads binding me with the guys snapped, leaving me breathless and teary-eyed. Ryker cried out behind me, and Orin fell to his knees to my left.
Asher crested the rise, and with a final glance my way, Adamah ran to meet him. They collided like a supernova, forcing us to cover our eyes and duck our heads. But even then, the world was white fire. There was no sound, no scream, no roar or bellow, and when the light died, Asher and Adamah were gone.
***
So many dead, so many injured. I walked across the battlefield flanked by Ryker and Orin. Bane, carrying Rivers’s dead body, trailed behind, and still the tears wouldn’t come. I was barren, empty, numb. The power that had simmered inside me for too long was finally gone. Adamah had used it all to annihilate Asher. My cambion hunger would be back eventually, but for now there was nothing, not even my daimon’s voice to soothe me, even though her presence hovered at the edges of my consciousness, grieving for what we had lost today. The daggers were nowhere to be found, probably incinerated in the supernova of power that had been Asher’s undoing.
Still, it wasn’t over. There was so much to be done. The shades left behind were being rounded up by Xavier and the resistance. Now that their leader was gone, they were free to choose—join us in the protection of humanity or die. It was simple. There would be no more free passes. Not for anyone.
We passed Michael helping a White Wing to his feet. His gaze flitted to Bane and to Rivers’s dead body and his eyes darkened with sorrow. He inclined his head in respect as we passed.
Would things remain amicable between the White Wings and the Black Wings? Who knew? Would we ever be able to shake the taint of what Asher had done from our city? None of that mattered. Right now, we had too many loved ones to mourn. The rest would have to wait.
EPILOGUE
Six months later
The flowers on the headstone were fresh, their red petals gray in the moonlight. I traced Rivers’s name with my index finger, and then moved on to trace Reaper’s too. The guys hadn’t argued when I’d insisted his name be added to the headstone, probably because I’d been crying so fucking hard at the time. He deserved to be remembered just as Rivers did. They’d saved my life. They’d saved us all, and not a day went by when I didn’t think of them. Their absence was a wound that would never fully heal.
The air behind me rippled, and Death’s warm breath tickled the nape of my neck. “It’s almost time.”
“I know.”
He cupped my shoulders and pulled me back against him to rest his chin on the top of my head.
I couldn’t help the smile that curved my lips. “Getting attached is a bad idea. You’ll have to claim my soul one day, you know.”
His lips teased the delicate shell of my ear. “And then you will be a part of me for all eternity.”
Who knew that sarcastic, flippant Death could also be a romantic. This. Us. Was new, but not sudden. Over the last few months, we’d gravitated toward each other almost naturally. Maybe it was because my soul was created from his essence. Maybe it was because I was just super hot and he couldn’t help himself; either way, it was what it was, and the guys had accepted him into our unit without question.
Wings beat the air and Bane landed lightly on the ground before us. “It’s time.” He looked to Death. “I thought I made it clear I’d be providing the transport?”
I didn’t need to turn around to know that Death would be rolling his eyes.
Bane’s mouth tightened and then he exhaled through his nose. “Serenity, would you like to fly, or do whatever he does?”
Okay, the guys had accepted Death’s presence in our unit, but that didn’t mean there weren’t some teething problems. And by teething problems, I meant Bane. The Black Wing was an alpha male, and whereas Ryker, Orin, Xavier, and Drayton were happy to let him take the lead, Death ... not so much. So, yeah ....
I turned to Death and leaned up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I fancy some air. I’ll see you there.”
He shrugged. “Fine by me.”
Bane held out his arms and I wrapped mine around his neck, breathing in his exciting fragrance. My pulse quickened as it always did when in proximity to him. He chuckled low and sexy.
“Hold tight.”
And then we were in flight, headed across Midnight toward Sunset and the turnaround forest, because that was where it was about to happen. A crowd came into view below us, humans and neph all eager for the event. And then Bane began to dip and dive, skimming over the heads of them all to land at the forefront, at the tree line of the crazy forest that had kept us prisoner for so long.
Michael and several White Wings greeted us. Abigor, Malphas, and Abbadon were also there. And the Protectorate, Ava and her humans, and Marika and her Order, they were all here. Ryker and Orin pushed through the crowd to join us, and then Drayton appeared to our left. It was easy to tell Xavier and him apart now. Drayton was warm chocolate and charisma and Xavier was harsh lines and magnetism. As lovers, Drayton was a fucking master but Xavier made love as if each time could be his last. My guys were here. And it was time.
“Watch,” Michael said. “Watch as the sun rises.”
This was it. The century was up. The spell around Arcadia was at an end, and the forest began to shimmer as if a heat wave was upon it. This was it. We were about to meet the rest of the fucking world.
Ryker took my left hand and Orin my right. Drayton and Bane slipped behind me.
We had no clue what challenges the outside world would hold for us, but whatever fate threw at us, we’d face it together, and that would always be enough for me.
The trees vanished and the sun rose up, bright yellow and glorious to behold, signaling a new beginning.
THE END
I hope you enjoyed the Chronicles of Midnight. Take a moment to breathe, and then check out the next thrilling adventure from the pen of Debbie Cassidy.
Set in the same world as Chronicles of Midnight, the Chronicles of Arcana follow the adventures of Wilomena Bastion in the world outside of Midnight.
If Buffy and Angel could have banged without him going all evil, then we would have had Wilomena Bastion.
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Chapter 1
Word of advice, if a shady looking bloke comes into your place of business and offers you enough money to buy that thousand-dollar dustkicker you’ve been eyeing up for weeks in exchange for a quick trip into dragon territory, you say no. Hell, no.
I opened my mouth to utter those very words, but the shady dude cut me off with a raised hand and a set of apologetic eyebrows.
“Please, hear me out,” he said in a low, raspy voice. “I wouldn’t be here with such a huge request if the lives of children weren’t at stake.”
And there it was. The dreaded hook—children. The hell, no died on my lips because there were rules—you could steal, lie, cheat and manipulate but you left the kids out of it. My thoughts must have penetrated my poker face because the shady dude was staring at me all expectant-like. His patchy moustache twitched as if itching to crawl off his sneaky face. The guy had dodgy stamped all over him, and I hadn’t come this far in the investigative business by taking on dodgy jobs. But sometimes exceptions needed to be made, especially when kids were involved.
I set my teacup on the desk. It was an antique, all china and fragile and damn did tea taste good in it, wouldn’t drink my tea in anything else.
“Will you do it?” the potential client asked.
How could I not? “How many kids?”
“Pah, you aren’t seriously considering this?” Trevor’s tiny canine body quivered with indignation. The Jack Pomeranian sat up in the second office chair where he’d been browsing our local ne
wspaper, The Daily Vine. He fixed me with his best glare. “You have a case already, remember? You should be headed out to deal with the tip off we just received. Besides, he smells off. Tell him to leave.”
My canine advisor was right. A call had come through less than thirty seconds before this shady guy had walked into the office. The creature I’d been attempting to track for the last two days had been spotted in central Southside Cemetery. The Other had killed three nephs in the past two weeks. I needed to get out there now, and yeah, this guy was setting off all the alarm bells, but if there were kids involved ...
Let me deal with this Trev.” I kept my gaze on our potential client.
“Pah!” Trevor slapped a paw on the newspaper in annoyance. He hated it when I ignored his advice, which wasn’t often. In his former life, before the curse, he’d been a private investigator, totally old school noir movie style, and now he worked reception at Bastion Investigations. Step up if you ask me, not that Trev saw it that way.
The man took a step forward, his hands clasped before him as if in supplication. “I can pay you five hundred now and five hundred on extraction. Please.”
He did sound desperate.
Trevor is right, a voice whispered in my ear. There is something off. Look at him, really look. Push him and see.
Gilbert Smyth, my trustee resident ghost and best tea brewer in Arcana City, patted my shoulder encouragingly. He’d come with the building, my very own counsel and phantom shoulder to cry on. These two were my family and their advice meant everything. Ignoring them had proven to be foolish.
It was time to pop on the investigator spectacles and give the guy a deep sweep. Unkempt hair, bloodshot eyes, and unshaven face gave the impression of someone hard up. The suit went with the whole image, probably fifty dollars off the rack, but he’d fucked up on the shoes. Those shoes were at least a grand on their own, and the gold watch strapped to his wrist was no knock off. He was playing the poor card, the desperate card, because he’d done his research, he knew poverty was my Achilles heel. Word must have gotten out about the two pro-bono cases I’d taken on last month. Trev and Gilbert had been on the money, and it was time to see what this guy was all about.
I sat up straighter. “A grand? Nah, that’s not gonna work for me. You want me to take a walk on the dark side? You’re going to have to pay the price.”
His eyes narrowed giving his slender face a hard edge that was at odds with his whole demeanor. “How much?”
Shit. How much did you charge to walk into a den of scaly, shape-shifting beasts that could tear you from limb to limb? I stared at the picture I’d taped to my wall, the beautiful leather dustkicker I’d been coveting for months, but a coat like that didn’t come cheap and savings were low.
What would fill up my indulgence piggy bank? “A grand now and a grand once I get them out.”
He held up his hands, palms upward and gave me the doe eyes. “I’m a poor man, Miss Bastion. I came to you because word of your generosity has spread. I would ask that you employ that generosity now.”
A low chuckle rose up from the corner of the room where Gilbert was hovering. Our smarmy guest glanced sharply in the direction of the sound.
“Hey.” I snapped my fingers. “Eyes on me.”
He blinked slowly and turned his attention back to me.
“I’m generous, but not to people who can afford designer shoes and gold watches.”
He glanced down at his feet, his brows flicked up and then he sighed heavily.
I couldn’t help the smug smile that tugged at my lips. “Yeah, shit happens. What I want to know is what kind you’re trekking into my place of business and what the heck you really want me to retrieve, because you have to know that no sane person would head into dragon territory without an invitation or a fucking death wish. So, the question remains, who the fuck are you?”
He straightened and his weasel expression smoothed out into something less check-out-your-knicker-drawer and more price-your-antiques. “Very well, Miss Bastion, I see that we must approach this differently.” His body was swallowed by smoke and then an altogether different dude was standing in my office—tall, broad, blond with no evidence of weasel genes. “My name is Adam. Adam Noir.”
Trevor made a choking sound. “Fucking Arcana.”
My hand was already in my desk drawer, fingers closed around the talisman I should have been wearing in the office, the talisman that would protect me from Arcana magic and would have allowed me to see through his glamour. Fuck me and my complacency. A tingle ran up my arm and the final vestiges of glamour clinging to the man fell away.
He stared down at me levelly. “I apologize for the subterfuge, but as you said, going into dragon territory is no easy task.”
“And you hoped you could emotionally blackmail me into it by using the magic C word?”
His brows snapped down. “There are children involved. I did not lie about that. I may have come to you in disguise but there is a reason for that if you’ll allow me to explain.”
He was Arcana, a fucking magic wielder, and he was standing in my office with a retrieval job involving children. The Arcana didn’t come to freelancers like me. If they had a job they went straight to The Collective and used one of their operatives. So, yeah, I was intrigued.
“Why me?” I shrugged. “Why not go straight to The Collective, and why the whole cloak and daggers shit?”
His perfect lips tightened. “Believe me, Miss Bastion, if I could have involved The Collective in this then I wouldn’t be here.”
In other words, he was scraping the bottom of the barrel with me. “Wow, you really need to work on your sales pitch.”
He had the grace to wince. “I apologize. That came out wrong.”
“No. No, I think you said exactly what you were thinking.” I held up my hands. “To be honest, I don’t give a shit what you think of me. What I do want to know is why you’re here.”
He exhaled through his nose. “Because this isn’t something the Arcana will care about and it’s not something I can go to The Collective with.”
“This isn’t some fucking soap opera where you need to draw out the scene to give the climax more impact. Just fast forward to the damn point.”
His jaw tensed. “The children that were taken are neph orphans living on the Southside. Their orphanage was invited into Draconi territory on an educational trip.”
Everyone in Arcana City was a neph aside from the Draconi, the Shedim who served them, and the host of mysterious Others who’d snuck into our world when the breach had occurred. As neph, we all carried a smidge of Black Wing blood in our veins, or so legend said. It’s what made us different, what divided us from humanity. The Black Wings had been divine beings who’d fallen from God’s grace, or so the stories said, but hell if anyone knew the truth of the matter or where the heck they were hiding now.
What we did know was that to live in Draconi territory you needed to work for the dragons and the next generation was always welcome for a visit. I’d heard their territory was pretty awesome to look at.
Slipping the talisman into my pocket, I made a steeple of my fingers. “Yeah, the Draconi like to invite the next generation of workers to their part of the city from time to time, dazzle them with the joys of living dragon style .... Buuut it’s usually high profile schools, not a Southside orphanage. The Draconi want only the best for their industrial endeavors.”
“Exactly. The orphanage is still empty, they never returned from their trip.”
“Fuckers,” Trevor said. “Fucking cold blooded killers. They’re at it again, aren’t they?”
He was referring to the dragons’ penchant for neph flesh and the rumors of the black market trade having picked back up again. Missing person’s reports had been on the rise for months now, but only on the Southside where law enforcement was weak and poverty had a grip that made people invisible. The Treaty the Arcana had strong-armed the Draconi into signing specifically forbade them from feeding off any neph
, it forbade them from crossing the border from Westside into the rest of Arcana City. But when had that stopped the scaly fuckers from doing what they wanted? And neph kids were a delicacy to them. It was a viable theory, all right. And this Adam Noir, had to know it. So the bullshit about the Arcana not caring was just that, bullshit, and the fact that he was here didn’t make sense.
“Why do you even give a shit about a bunch of orphan kids?”
He swallowed hard. “My daughter was on that bus.”
“Ah.” I snapped my mouth closed.
It happened too often these days. The pure blood Arcana mingled with us lowly neph, procreating and leaving little babies behind, babies that would either have the luxury of being raised by a single parent or end up in an orphanage, because Arcana didn’t like to muddy their bloodlines. Their connection to the magic that infused Arcana City was too strong to compromise, and while other neph could tap into it, their mixed bloodlines and hybrid natures made their relationship to the magic weaker. The Arcana Institute was a way of life, a whole fucking institution and you could fuck and sire to your heart’s content as long as you never brought these progeny into the fold. And did anyone complain? Nope. Because we had no choice but to bow down and be grateful to the magic wielders who’d fought the Draconi when they’d invaded our world and ripped it to shreds, creating pockets of magic across the globe. The Arcana had beat back the scaly monsters with the power of the arcane and forced them to sign a binding Treaty. They’d shackled the beast but every day was a battle to keep it chained.
And where were the humans who’d dominated this world? They’d been forced out of the magic saturated cities while neph had been forced into them. The mundane world still ticked on outside of the pockets, ignoring our existence, thankful that the monsters that could kill them were tucked away behind shields of arcane magic.
“Her mother died in childbirth,” Adam said. “I wanted to keep her ... I had no choice.”
I snorted. “So, you pick the fucking Southside?” I turned to Trev. “Give this man a father of the year award.”
Savior of Midnight: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Chronicles of Midnight Book 5) Page 16
