Protected by Emeralds (A Dance with Destiny Book 5)

by JK Ensley

  “No. It’s not true.” Akio stared at Jenevier, utter horror twisting his fair face. “I begged only for word of you. I swear it. I didn’t even know he had you. He sent word of a package only, one concerning you.” He stepped toward her, hands trembling. “I knew nothing of the horrors that befell you, Milady. Not until I found the sell-sword’s house. Please, you have to believe me.”

  Tears flooded down her cheeks. “And… you think I just walk about with bruises such as those the whole time?”

  “No… I mean… I don’t know.” Akio glanced away. “Prince Suou confided in Izaru about how he had first met you, what shape you were in. I didn’t—”

  “What did you do to her when your eyes finally beheld her there?” Ahriman was now standing between Jenevier and the shaken man. “Speak the truth, boy. What did you do in that locked room for so long… all alone?”

  Akio fixed his gaze upon Jenevier. He didn’t see the silver now flashing in the soul-eater’s icy glare.

  “I just… I just… looked at her,” he whispered.

  Jenevier turned back to face the window, adding nothing to the young man’s haunted tale.

  “We didn’t even speak,” he continued on in a soft voice. “I helped her back to bed. I could barely even believe the damage. She turned away from me. And then… then I just sat there… staring at her.” Tears escaped his unblinking eyes. “She looked so tiny, so fragile. Like a beautiful little Angel with a broken wing… and bruised ribs.” He shuddered. “I watched her shoulders tremble as she silently cried. And I just sat there… crying with her.”

  *****

  “Aye then, have ye heard enough, Brother?” Vittorio said, turning to face Vareilious. “If I stay here a moment longer, I’ll be ripping heads off before ye can stop me.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard enough,” Vareilious mumbled. “But I’m not leaving here until I hold that Izaru’s heart in my hand. I know we don’t kill humans. But—”

  “Aye, Brother. I’m with ye,” Vittorio interrupted. “What say we take oot a few of these demons on our way?”

  “Sounds like fun.” Vareilious’s wicked smirk turned up one corner of his sculpted lips. “Now that we know she’s fine, I could do with a bit of play.”

  The two Guardians turned from the house, flying off in the direction of the nearing battle. Jenevier watched until they were out of sight.

  You have so many people watching over you, little Naga.

  I know, Dragon… I know.

  It makes my heart smile.

  Mine too, Brother. I am blessed beyond my worth.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Ahriman said, taking her by the elbow.

  “What? Ohh… Apologies. I am not certain I caught that last bit, no.”

  Ahriman snorted. “I am not certain you caught any of it.”

  “Vybius.” She glanced toward him and then back out the window. “The approaching torches… there.” She motioned with a nod of her head. “They are nigh countless, Brother. Tell me. How did you manage to recruit so many, so quickly?”

  “Ahh, loveliest of Angels, that was the easy part.”

  She turned to face him proper. “Is that so? Do tell.”

  He smiled. “We love this layer. It is the most fun of them all. Well, I mean…” He paused.

  “You mean… we, as in demons and dark Angels,” she said knowingly.

  He blushed. “Yes.”

  Jenevier only stared at him, waiting for him to collect the proper words.

  “Yes… demons and dark Angels.” He audibly released a long breath. “It was no real chore to enlist them. Seeing as most of them were already here anyway.”

  “Doing?”

  “What do you mean, doing? Doing what it is we do.”

  She only raised a single eyebrow, impatiently waiting.

  Ahriman sort of shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “Please, do not become vexed with me, my love. I cannot change overnight. Nor can I undo a single moment in time.” He looked away from her then, unable to hold her glare. “Fresh start, remember?” he mumbled.

  Jenevier released a long, exasperated breath and turned back to the window, catching his poignant reflection in the glass.

  “…Yes,” she whispered. “A promise I will not break.”

  “Gratitude, Milady.”

  Her heart skipped when his beautiful smile erased that previously haunted expression in the windowpane.

  “They smell this sort of thing—blood, hatred, chaos. We all can,” he continued.

  Jenevier held her tongue. Didn’t even roll her eyes or sigh, only waited.

  “This is your dark husband’s favorite layer, Milady. ‘Tis true for most of us.” His glorious smile grew. “He has done some of his best work, right here.”

  Naga, watch his eyes sparkle, Nilakanta said. I am not in the habit of saying this, but… he scares me.

  Yes… He scares me, too, Dragon.

  “You already know he has a silver tongue,” Ahriman was saying. “Well, more like… his words drip with gold and honey.”

  “…Spun sugar and pure molasses,” she whispered.

  “Yes.” Ahriman snorted out a laugh. “On the smaller layers, he could easily spin his fanciful lies with tales of magic. Or feed off their silly superstitions and ridiculous legends. Hell, he was the one that started the most of them in the first place.” He slowly shook his head as he spoke. “Not so here.”

  “Why?” she whispered. “What makes this place so special?”

  “The people here. They crave knowledge like no others, above all things. When Apollyon’s usual tricks simply became fodder for their jokes… he joined them.”

  “What do you mean, joined them?”

  “If you cannot beat them, join them, right? When they began to laugh at the idea of magic, of all things supernatural… when they turned from the teachings of their elders and began to use as great a thing as science simply to prove themselves so much smarter and wiser than the old ones… Apollyon joined them in this.”

  “But… you mean… he helped them disprove the supernatural? Helped them disprove Angels?”

  “Well, he couldn’t very well help them disprove such a thing as that, now, could he? No, he simply whispered in their ear.”

  “Whispered? About what?”

  “About many things.” He chuckled softly. “He told them that if a thing could not be seen… then it could not be real. Simple as that. He convinced them in this, said they should not have to disprove a creature’s existence if there was no proof they actually existed in the first place. He got the naysayers to turn it all around on the believers, make them prove there were supernatural beings.”

  “But, how could a human do such as that?”

  “Ahh, and there it is, isn’t it? There was no physical evidence that could be convincingly presented. So… there you go.”

  “So… since the people of this realm could not prove there were Angels…”

  “Exactly.” Ahriman smiled. “The unbelievers proved their point with no proof at all. It was really quite easy. Brilliant, actually. Oh, and it was not just Angels, my love. Anything that could not be proven was subsequently disproven by that very fact. Belief in all things unseen was shattered, and faith fell by the wayside.”

  She shook her head. “But wait… if Apollyon convinced them there were no such things as Angels, then he convinced them that he did not exist, either. Why would he do such a thing?”

  Ahriman didn’t answer her. He only watched anxiously as her eyes grew wide with understanding.

  “Ahh… and now you see,” he whispered. “His most cunning, elaborate trick of all.”

  “…Convincing this world he does not exist.”

  “Yes. Like I said… brilliant.”

  “So… who do the people think comes to collect their souls? And… who do they pray to or call out to for help? With this many demons scouring the land, there must be almost constant unimaginable pain and misery.”

  “True. All true.” He s
hrugged his shoulders again. “Have you not ever heard the saying… Fools rush in where even Angels fear to tread?”

  She nodded her head, fear and dread fast filling her mind.

  “And you understand what it means?” he asked, not waiting for her answer. “Angels are not fools. We know. We believe. Especially we fallen Angels. We know full well the danger, the fact there is a line that cannot be seen… but can most definitely be crossed. Not so with humans.” He snorted out a laugh. “Imagine that. Devils believe in Father, and we tremble in that knowledge. Humans? Well, they will know and tremble as well… in time. And as far as their souls go, Milady, most people here do not believe they have one. Same premise as before—if it cannot be proven, it cannot be real. As for prayers and belief… there are still a few who cling to the old ways. I mean, if there weren’t at least a few people left to tempt, where would all the fun be?”

  She gasped. “Vybius.”

  “Sorry. Sorry.” He paused a moment, duly chastised. “Tell me. Why did you think Apollyon’s unholy war did not touch this realm, or the one you now call home?”

  She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… it was no accident that only the first seven layers were attacked and the others spared. Earth is his favorite. He’s got a good thing going here. If Apollyon had brought mindless death and destruction down on these people… well, they just might have gone back to praying and asking for help. He could not let such a thing as that happen. Think about it. If he had sent demons to all-out attack this realm… he would have provided them with the very proof they lacked. It would have ultimately undone all his hard work.”

  “And what of Jinn? Why did he spare Jinn? They most definitely believe in Angels, demons as well. I mean, Munenori freely walks among them. Always has.”

  “Pfft… Apollyon is not afraid of Munenori.” His countenance visibly darkened. “No. It goes much deeper than that. The people of Jinn, they are… different…” He shook his head. “Anyway, Apollyon went to Jinn to seek vengeance on but one man. Now, enough about all that, my love. We have bloody work that needs to be seen to. Come. It is time for me to fulfill my promise to you.” The handsome soul-eater turned to Akio. “Sincerest apologies, little Lord, but I am afraid this lovely Angel cannot be your wife. She is mine, and as such, no longer available to wed. There is a war raging just outside your door.” He motioned with a nod of his head. “If you aren’t going to help, best stay out of the way. I would hate to see you end up scarring that pretty face of yours.”

  Akio only stared at Jenevier, until she finally met his tortured gaze.

  “Milady?”

  “What he says is true,” she whispered. “I was payment for your father’s dark deeds. The silver woman who befriended him, I was the agreed upon tender. She had a grudge to settle, a bit of my flesh was her price.”

  “Yet she is only a Guardian,” Ahriman said. “She had not the power to amass such a horde.”

  Jenevier smiled sadly at the stunned young man. “She needed the Hand of Hell for such as that. And what was left of me after her payment had been painfully extracted… well, that was his price.”

  Ahriman wrapped his arm around her waist, smiling coolly. “As I said before, she is mine now.”

  *****

  Jenevier looked around the darkened bedroom. “What are we doing here?”

  “Paying our last respects,” Ahriman said with a slight chuckle.

  The dark soul-eating Angel stretched his hand out over the stilled form of a wide-eyed, terrified Brutus.

  “Swaptonus… Batac… Helamuya… Karmonis, Valencia.”

  Ahriman spoke those strange words as an Otherworldly glow surrounded the man who had sacrificed his favorite son’s body to a demon, started this world-altering war, and handed Jenevier over as recompense to her hated ethereal sister.

  “It is done,” Ahriman whispered. “If you wish to do so, now is the time to bid adieu to your nemesis, Milady. There’s a party knocking on our door. We best be joining it.”

  Jenevier looked closer at the wicked man lying there… and beheld the sky blue eyes of a heavenly Vanir staring back at her.

  “Valencia?” she whispered.

  Sheer horror filled those ethereal eyes as realization took hold, not only in the she-Guardian, but in Jenevier as well.

  “Best get going, Love,” Ahriman said, gently taking her hand. “We’ve got bloody work to do, you and I.”

  Jenevier smiled, her gaze still locked with her twisted sister’s. “I had no idea you could do such as this. Where ever did you acquire such a demented skill?”

  “Ahh, that will have to be my little secret, dear heart. You won’t be vexed with me, will you?”

  “Vexed? More like… amazed.” She giggled happily. “Yep, I believe I love you, Vybius.”

  She giggled again, playfully waving her fingers at Valencia, sending her last good-byes as she let the soul-eater pull her from that dark, depressing prison-room.

  *****

  Jenevier took a step back when the giant serrated blade came down toward her, and found herself pressed up against an unmoving form. She glanced around to meet Ahriman’s flashing silver gaze. He winked at her and she smiled, before they both turned back to face their opponents, simultaneously claiming two more vile heads.

  Ahriman chuckled. “I shall need a good bath after this.”

  “This whole realm shall need a good bath after this,” she mumbled.

  “Ahh, yes. Glory and gore—blood and honor. They are the sweetest of bedfellows. Let us claim them as our own, shall we?”

  The now jovial soul-eater swatted her across the bottom as he made his way deeper into the swarming throng of demons.

  “I have claimed forty-two,” he called out over his shoulder. “By my count, you have only managed to dispatch about twenty-seven.” He turned to face her while running backwards. “Seems I am a better Death Angel than you.” He winked.

  “Only because their sword pauses when they find themselves face to face with the Hand of Hell,” she called out after him. “You filthy little purple traitor.”

  Her chuckle was cut short when another blade came gleaming through the darkness, ringing loudly when it met Amatiste.

  “Oh, by the way,” Ahriman shouted. “Watch out behind you.”

  Jenevier saw him wink again just before he turned to face his next opponent.

  Cocky little soul-eater, Nilakanta grumbled.

  “That’s forty-three! No… forty-four!”

  His playful shouts wafted back to her. Jenevier chuckled.

  “Perhaps he is a bit full of himself,” she said. “But I would much rather have him standing beside me than standing against me.”

  In battle, perhaps. Nilakanta paused. I hate to think about him at your side once all of this is through.

  “Then do not think about it, Dragon.” She smiled. “Save tomorrow’s worries for tomorrow.”

  Jenevier stood there gazing at the dark Angel’s slim form, dancing through the battle as if he were masterfully performing an exquisitely lethal ballet—elegant and graceful, an Otherworldly titan made all the more glorious silhouetted by black wings. He glanced her way and smiled. She melted a little more inside. He was mesmerizing, his long braid floating on the air as a leaf atop rolling waters.

  “Water,” she whispered, as her mind drifted to earlier that day. “…Vybius standing in that cold river.”

  Her eyelashes nearly fluttered. Were she not in the midst of a war, she may have swooned.

  “Those beautifully perfect lips,” she mumbled. “And oh my… those amazingly delicious hip bones of his.”

  She sucked air in through her teeth, then tried to shake the disturbing thoughts away.

  “Do you always go about talking to yourself while you’re killing things?”

  The familiar voice made her smile.

  “Or are you just mad, tiny little Dragon girl?”

  “Yes, Dimples,” she said through her smile, not tur
ning to face the handsome sell-sword. “I am most certainly mad, daft, and completely off my rocker, to be sure. Good to see you again, water boy.”

  He yanked hard on one of her curls, causing her smirk to be replaced with giggles.

  “How fares our good Prince?” she asked, just as she claimed another grotesque head from its hunched shoulders.

  “He yet lives,” Duhrias said. “I am nothing if not true to my word. Command obeyed, Milady.”

  She turned just in time to see his blatant smirk. She matched it.

  “Gratitude, Sir Knight.” She mockingly curtsied.

  “Oh, so I’m a Sir now, am I?”

  “Would you rather be a Dame?” She smiled, trying to hold in her mounting giggles. “And what of Izaru? Did he recognize you?”

  “I haven’t seen him. No one has. Seems that old white devil just up and disappeared.”

  “In hiding, more like,” she grumbled. “So many men pretend to have the strength to start a war, yet there are precious few with the guts to see it to its end.”

  They separated long enough to dispatch the closest demons before turning back to each other.

  “I feared you were dead, Naga.” He pulled her close to him. “Your sweet blood flowed through me… hollowed out my heart.”

  “Was that you I bathed in?”

  “Do not jest, Little Fire.” He tightened his grip upon her arm. “And never scare me like that, ever again.”

  “I was beaten, yes,” she said in a low voice. “Yet I live.”

  “And who laid hands upon you?” His growl rumbled around them. “Akio?”

  “Nay, Brother. My silver sister got a bit happy with the lash. She was waiting for me. She even watched as you left me here. She was planning on chaining you up beside me. She thought for sure I would keep you close to my side. Anyway, she got me… drugged my tea.”

  “Wait.” Duhrias gasped. “Silver? Do you mean her hair?”

  “Yes. Her hair is as spun silver. She doesn’t braid it. It flows freely… nearly down to her knees.” Jenevier studied his searching eyes. “Why do you ask, Dimples? Tell me. Have you seen her?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, she’s a bit hard to miss. Much like you, Milady.” He winked down at her. “And when your skin glows like a beacon lit by moonlight, you cannot easily stay hidden on a darkened battlefield.”