The Opal Blade (The Ashen Touch Trilogy Book 1)

by Kristy Nicolle

  “I guess we better get going.” I look to Xion, and he cocks his head.

  “You want me to walk you out?” he asks, and I nod.

  “Seems only right, you walked me in,” I counter, and he smiles, though I can tell he’s trying not to.

  “Cerb!” I call out, and at the sound of his name, the Leonberger leaps right over the couch in the other room, almost knocking it and The Fates completely over. The three women rise to their feet as I greet my dog, running my fingers through his thick fur and inhaling the woody damp scent of his mane.

  “I missed you boy.” I look into his round dark eyes and smile. Things are going to be just fine, for us both.

  “Goodbye, Sephy. See you again soon.” One of The Fates calls to me, though I can’t remember which one.

  Not on your freakishly old life, lady. I think, bending at the knee as I take Cerb by the collar before striding over to Xion.

  “Should we get a carriage?” he asks me, and I shake my head.

  “Nah, I got this.” I give a small wave, grabbing his hand in mine. His skin is rough and calloused, and he holds onto me tightly.

  “Hold your breath,” I instruct him. “On three.” I give him time to prepare himself, smirking as I do.

  “One…T…” Before I’ve finished the count, I convect us out of Luce’s suite, ready to claw my way back to the real world.

  As we materialise in a fit of flame and smoke atop the ruddy earth of the Sanguine forest, Xion sputters.

  “Dammit! That wasn’t three!” he coughs, and I laugh.

  “Yeah, I know. Haedes did that exact same thing to me the first time I convected,” I smirk, and he rolls his eyes.

  “Nice,” he retorts, brushing himself down as the smoke dissipates into the air, and he stands up straight. Cerb whines at my side.

  “Gotta give you something to remember me by, don’t I?” I ask him, feeling my heart become heavy in its beat. I’ve known this moment is coming, but I haven’t wanted to face it. I just can’t stay here and play demon hunter. I need to have a life, the life I was supposed to have. The life my father gambled so much to create.

  The trees rustle around us as a stiff breeze causes the red leaves to shake, allowing lilac sunlight to fall, dappled through the bloody canopy.

  “I don’t think I’ll forget you,” Xion mutters, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

  “Well, you might, but only after like… a hundred thousand years. I’ll just be that red headed girl.” I chuckle, but the thought makes me sad.

  “Nah, you’re too Sephy to just be some redhead.” He smiles, and I wonder if either of us is going to move.

  I spin on my heel, finding the gothic metal cage of The Hollow towering behind me.

  I guess it’s time.

  “So, I’ll not see you around then?” I ask him, semi-hopeful.

  “No, my job is done with the Sinclairs now. Your debt is written off, and as a demi-goddess, you won’t wrack up anything new. Your soul is safe. You’re free,” he reminds me, and I nod.

  “Freedom, huh? That seems to be the thing I’ve wanted most of all, ever since this all started,” I admit as he hands me the Obsidian Dagger from the belt loop of his jeans. I feel the weight of it in my palm, reminding me of another weapon.

  “Well, now you have it. Go and enjoy it, Sephy.” He places a hand on my shoulder, and I take a small step back from him, trying not to get emotional. I slit the skin on the palm of my hand open, barely feeling it. I’m numb as I hand back the knife, grabbing Cerb by the collar once more and turning to walk towards The Hollow.

  Pressing my hand against the tree and letting my blood feed the wood, I look back at him over my shoulder as crimson leaves crackle under the tread of my boots.

  “Thanks, for uh, being my luggage boy,” I call, waving, but he doesn’t wave back, simply standing there, stance wide, watching me go.

  “It’s been my honour,” he replies, unfeeling and stoic as though smiling will crack his mask of reserve. Then again, maybe I’m merely duty and nothing more.

  I turn from him and begin my journey toward freedom and future.

  Chapter Thirty

  Should I Stay Or Should I Go

  XION

  I unlock the door to my apartment, stepping inside to familiar silence as I return after a few nights stay at the Exilia. Luce and Thane have had me looking for potential weaknesses in their security, and it’s been beyond stressful with the new knowledge that Pandora can walk in any time she likes.

  The cold blue light of flickering sconces is melancholic as my tread echoes out across the stone of the walls and floor. I’m home and alone once again.

  The place is chill, and I exhale heavily as I slip off my leather jacket and walk over to the bed. Collapsing back onto the unmade sheets, I smell her familiar scent, cinnamon, as it envelops me.

  I have done my duty by her. She is safe, and hopefully, she will go on to live a happy and carefree life. That’s what she deserves. She’s suffered enough with both the loss of her parents and in being hunted by the Demon Lords to last a lifetime.

  So why do I feel so… empty?

  Is it a loss of placement? Not knowing what my next assignment will be, or who I’ll be hounding next? This has surely been a change, protecting someone and earning their gratitude, rather than condemning them to hell.

  I stare up at the ceiling, bored without her witty retorts or sarcastic commentary, thinking about my life before. Would Sephy and I have ever been friends in a world where I was mortal?

  Probably not.

  When I’d been human, I was preparing to enlist in the armed forces. I wanted to fight, to be a man of honour, then my demon-self presented, and well… that was the end of that dream.

  I ponder if perhaps I’m feeling so down because in attempting to rescue Sephy, in guarding her, it had been like I was the hero for once and not the bad guy. Maybe it’s because I had felt a real sense of purpose with her, not that she needed my protection, but it was nice to pretend, at least for a while.

  I sigh, wondering what Alex Johnson would think of all this, what I would have thought about Sephy before I’d changed my name and lost that part of myself. The naïve part, the safe part, the truly human part.

  Alex Johnson would have found Sephy Sinclair to be brash, arrogant, rude and quite possibly intolerable, but I’m no longer him, and she’s no longer here, so all of this speculation matters very little.

  So why am I speculating at all?

  Why do I care so much? I haven’t really even known her that long. We’ve been through a lot together, that’s true, but she’s not my problem anymore.

  As though this thought has summoned someone who is very much my problem, I am blinded momentarily by a flash of blue flames. I blink once, then again, trying to clear the floating spots from my vision where the flash fire has burned my retinas.

  “Damn it!” I exclaim, disoriented as I sit up on the bed.

  Where the flames have died away, leaving no scorch marks because thankfully I don’t have a carpet, Haedes now stands. “Don’t you knock?” I complain, and he glares at me, clearly furious. His hair is scarlet, and his eyebrows, which slope down at acute angles, match. I take a deep breath.

  This is going to be fun. I groan, wondering what he’s doing here.

  “No, I don’t knock on the doors of people who betray me,” Haedes snarls, and I roll my eyes. He’s drunk – I can smell it from here.

  “You’ve been drinking,” I state, and he smirks.

  “How observant of you,” he replies, cracking his bony knuckles like he wants to wrestle. I get to my feet, towering over him by several inches. I don’t have time for this crap.

  “I didn’t betray you. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Go home. Go to bed.” I brush past him, trying to move into the main room, to get away from the scent of cinnamon, the scent of her, but he grabs the crook of my elbow, growling at me.

  “You stood up for her! It’s because of you that s
he’s gone!” He informs me of his warped assessment, and I want to laugh.

  “Haedes. Come on. Have you met your daughter? If she wants to leave, then there’s no keeping her here. Besides, I stand by what I said; she can take care of herself. She’s more than proved that in spite of the decisions you made that put her in harm’s way.” I remind him that the real betrayer here is not me, but him.

  He betrayed Sephy.

  I let my hands curl into fists at my sides, wondering what the chances are that Haedes will let this go.

  “I didn’t do anything of the sort. What was I supposed to do? Sacrifice the universe for her?” he asks me, spitting each word like he himself is a bonfire.

  “No. You were supposed to find another way. You’re telling me right now that if you were in the same situation with her mother, you wouldn’t have raised heaven and earth to save her? Wouldn’t have worked night and day to find a solution? I don’t buy that. Not for a fucking second,” I spit back, bringing up Demi in the hope that he will see the error of his ways.

  “So, what? You’re saying I don’t love my own daughter now?” he hisses, beginning to pace in circles around me. I track his motion, wary but ready to fight if I have to.

  “I’m saying you love yourself more. You’re a selfish bastard. You loved fully once, got hurt, and now you’ll never take that risk on anyone again. Even if they’re worth it.” The words come from me, and I feel myself surprised as they hit the air.

  “And how would you know if she’s worth it?” he demands, fury boiling through his blood. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was about ready to implode.

  “Because anyone who knows Sephy Sinclair knows she is worth that and more. She’s worth your respect. Your time. And your love. If you knew her, really knew her, you’d know that,” I snap, and he scowls.

  “And I suppose you do know her, really know her?” he mocks me, and I feel my heartbeat begin to heighten. His tread is like that of a wild cat, soft and yet deadly in intent.

  “I know her, and I respect her,” I state simply, and he smirks.

  “And I suppose you love her as well? Stupid boy! She can never be with you. You’re nothing but a monster. You’ll doom us all.” These words are the last straw, and I feel my rage untamed as something within me snaps. My demon form presents, busting out my clothes as a roar comes from deep within my chest. I hurl my body forward, wrapping my charred hands around Haedes’ pale throat. He laughs, wheezing within my clutch as I smash him into the wall.

  “Well, well, well… your colours are showing…” He copies something Muerta always says, and I wonder why I shouldn’t just kill him right now. Then I remember, Mortaria would most certainly fall.

  Restraining myself, I let him drop to the floor in a pile.

  “Stay away from my daughter,” he growls, his voice gruff as he coughs several times. He summons a ball of Eternal Flame in his hand, leaping to his feet and coming up close to me, letting the fire tickle my face as I feel the darkness recede slightly against my will.

  Fear doesn’t clutch at me. If he were to do it now, that would solve problems for far more people than just us two.

  “You stay away from your daughter, and me, for that matter,” I counter, bringing my fist up and throwing a punch. It hits Haedes directly between the eyes, and he stumbles back, flame extinguishing, his co-ordination impaired by drink.

  “Xion, you are forbidden to go near that girl, do you hear me? She’s not your concern any longer.” He sounds desperate now.

  “And you are in no position to forbid anyone from doing anything regarding Sephy. You lost that right when you willingly gave her life over to the Demon Lords,” I retort, and he looks at me, eyes blazing.

  “If you go within five hundred feet of her, then you’re fired. No more Resurrection Flame. No more immortality. You can return to the mortal scum you came from and die like one,” he threatens me, and I straighten, letting my demon form recede now and narrowing my eyes.

  I think carefully before I speak next, trying to work out all the possible results that might occur. He stares at me, silence falling between us as my mind ticks, knowing it is time I make a choice.

  The choice is obvious; it is the why of the matter that is not.

  I suppose the only way to ever know why I feel this way is to act and hope for the best.

  “I quit,” I announce, and Haedes looks mortified.

  “You’re quitting? Quitting so you can go and fulfil some prophecy and doom us all? And you think I’m selfish!” he chuckles, maniacal and insane looking as his mouth stretches too wide on his skull, white teeth bony bright in the dark of the room.

  “No. I’m quitting because I just realised I am following the orders of a hot-headed jackass who I have no respect for anymore. I don’t serve assholes, and I don’t fear death either. Besides, if you did kill me, I’m pretty sure Sephy would never speak to you again, if she ever does decide to return, which I doubt,” I exclaim, cocky.

  Haedes scowls, looking like he might say something, but then decides against it. I wait for him to erupt, to scold me, to scorch me dead with his wrath, but instead, his eyes glaze over, and he disappears in yet another flash of blue flames, which consume him into nothingness.

  I look around my apartment, realising now the impact of what I’ve just done. This can’t be my home anymore.

  I need to go back to the mortal world… but do what there?

  Get a regular job? Live a regular life?

  This is all I’ve known for as long as I can remember. The only thing I’m good at is killing demons and, on a good day, restraining the one living within me.

  I guess I might not have anywhere to go, but I have someone who I can go to. A friend.

  I begin to pack up what few belongings I own, a sense of relief settling over me as I pull leather jacket after leather jacket down from the coat hangers inside my closet and shove them into a black leather duffle bag.

  I know at the presentation of this emotion, I’ve made the right choice. I just hope she doesn’t turn me away.

  SEPHY

  It’s been exactly three days since I returned to The Sinclair Estate, and things are finally getting back to some semblance of normal life.

  However, whilst the daily comings and goings of the estate may be returning to normal, I am changed, as cliché as that may sound.

  I dress in a white cotton blouse and loose-fitting jeans, pulling my hair back off my face and into a high ponytail. I hear a knock at the door, and so call, “Come in!” as I place some neutral lipstick onto my lips and pucker them in front of the mirror.

  I’m going for the conservative look, the clean look, the mature and sophisticated style I feel that my parents would have wanted to see me in, and in some respects, I’m sort of unrecognisable to the woman I had been merely a few weeks before.

  I still see them when I sleep, crawling in and out of dreams and slithering around the dark corners of my subconscious, The Demon Lords.

  Sleeping has been rough in general, but I’m trying to keep things together, especially now I’ve seen just how chaotic my life could become given my lineage.

  It’s certainly true that after fighting for my life, running a billion-dollar company seems like small fry. Like I could handle it with my eyes shut.

  Jules opens the door and comes through with my breakfast tray, the usual silver cloche and white rose in a glass vase, the paper folded across the top. His shiny black shoes pad across the thick lilac carpet, and I turn to him. His expression is surprised as our eyes meet.

  “You look… beautiful,” he compliments me.

  “You seem surprised.” I cock an eyebrow, taking several steps forward in bare feet, picking the single white rose, which has been clipped from the gardens below, up between my fingers, careful of the thorns.

  “You seem different. That’s all,” he corrects himself, and I smirk.

  “You know what I realised?” I ask him, and he shakes his head.

  “Wha
t’s that?”

  “I realised that whether I wear black leather or not, I’m still a badass,” I announce, cocky even still, reminding him that I’m not totally changed. He stands, not sure whether to laugh or not.

  Instead, he keeps things formal, what a surprise.

  “I see. What are your plans for today?” he asks me, and I exhale heavily.

  “Actually, I want to deal with the business today. I also want you to call me a lawyer,” I request, and he cocks his head.

  “You want me to tell Peter? You know he got in last night?” he suggests, but I shake my head, spinning the stem of the rose in between my fingers.

  “No. I can handle it. It’s my family name. I’ll take full responsibility,” I announce, certain in my tone now, and this time Jules does smile.

  “Very well… oh and…” he begins, but then flushes and looks down at his feet.

  “Well go on, spit it out!” I bark, not completely having lost my impatience.

  “I’m very proud of you. If your parents were here, they would be too.” He takes several timid steps forward and plats a soft kiss on my forehead.

  “Thank you,” I whisper back to him, my heart swelling.

  “Anyway, I’ll go and make some calls.”

  “Alright, I have something important to take care of first, but I’ll be back soon,” I promise, walking past my breakfast tray, rose still in my palm, and out of the pink, early morning hue of the room.

  I let my hand caress the deep mahogany of the balustrade as I run my palm along its polished length. The chandelier overhead refracts light in multi-coloured specks around the hall in the sunlight of dawn, which pours in through the high windows of the front of the house, as I reach the top of the landing.

  I walk down the centre of the long staircase, reaching the lobby as my bare feet touch the soft velvet of the runner repetitively before taking to the cool chequered marble of the lobby floor. Taking a right, I proceed to the east most wing, taking long strides through the quiet which has fallen over the house in my absence, and feeling my heart pounding in my chest as I near my destination. The tall deep aubergine walls of this wing of the house rise around me, pictures of me and my parents when I was a child littering the walls on both sides, making me nostalgic.