Dark Becoming (An Ema Marx Novel Book 3)

by J. D. Brown

  I pulled the rope strap from my shoulder and used it to tie the briefcases to the tree trunk. I opened one case and prepped the rifle, loading it with tranquilizer darts. Then I shifted back into a vampire and yanked on my clothes. I left my boots in the case and went barefoot. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to haul ass without them later. The jungle wasn’t a good place to be barefoot.

  I holstered two taser guns to my thighs, pocketed the dagger, and then slid the philosopher’s stone over my finger. I wish I knew how the damn thing worked. I might have just barged inside and abracadabra’ed his ass, if I only knew how. Oh well. I’d just have to rely on the old tried ‘n’ true trio—electricity, bullets, and blades.

  Packed to the nines, I carefully climbed from one branch to another, until I stood in a tree that hung over the roof of the tin structure. I slowly lowered, placing the toes of my right foot onto a tin shingle, testing its durability. The construction held, but the bolts were loose enough to rattle. I had no choice to but to exercise extreme caution, which meant every move needed to be slow and deliberate. Sweat beaded my brow as I lowered my left foot, keeping a wide girth to balance my weight. I let go of the tree branch and gradually lowered my fingertips to the metal. I needed to get to the center of the roof. The center would give me the best vantage point, but walking across the wobbly tin panels would be tricky. I used my hands to make my surface area as wide as possible, and very slowly gorilla-walked toward the building’s apex.

  After ten painstaking minutes of moving one muscle at a time, I decided I’d gone far enough. I needed to take a peek inside, otherwise the whole plan would be a shot in the dark. I lowered onto my stomach and then unsheathed the dagger. I forced the tip of the blade into the rusted screw head of a panel and twisted. Ciaran would bitch about the scratches.

  Once I got all four screws out, I slid the corner of the panel an inch to the side, creating a small triangular hole. A rancid scent blasted into the air and assaulted my lungs before I could even look inside. I turned my head away and fought the urge to gag. The stench rose like hot garbage to mingle with the jungle humidity. Composing myself, I faced the triangular hole and tried again.

  The space inside was dark, yet open, like a storeroom. I spotted movement in the shadows. At first glance, the figures resembled five half-naked male vampyres with bad tattoos, just standing around, but then they turned this way or that—scratching an ear or glancing at something—and I noticed parts of their bodies were completely rotted through. They looked like the zombies in the movies, except bigger, stronger, and much more animated. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping. No wonder it smelled so bad, they were literally rotting. Had the guard I killed in Svalbard been a zombie, too? Thank goodness it had been pitch black in there. But hey, if I could take out one ugly smelly freak, what was five more?

  I glanced around, hoping to find Apollyon, but all I could see from this position were the zombies. That was okay; I’d just take out his posse first and then find him. I aimed the tranquilizer rifle at the closest zombie and then squeezed the trigger.

  The dart hit him in the chest. He and two others whirled around to see where the shot came from. I fired twice more, and all three zombies hit the ground. The final two ran toward their fallen brethren, their angry gazes locked with mine. I aimed at the faster of the two, but a man yelled something in a foreign language, and the zombies backtracked, running away before I could pull the trigger. I rolled onto to my side, out of reach of anything they might try to fire through the hole in the roof, but still close enough to watch for activity.

  Footsteps approached on the ground directly below me. My heart pounded in my ears as I waited for the owner of those steps to enter my limited field of vision. Would this person be the legendary Apollyon, come to see the face of the woman who took out three of his men in under a minute?

  I watched the shadow of a man grow tall and thin under the triangle of moonlight filtering through the hole. The top of a black wool knit cap came into view. Wispy locks of dark hair curled around the edges of the cap. Below that, a thin sweater hugged narrow shoulders. I aimed the metal barrel at the space of pale hollowed skin just above his collarbone. As if sensing the threat, he lifted his chin and looked right at me. The silver moonlight illuminated his piercing purple gaze. My eyes widened in recognition and my blood ran cold. What the hell is the incubus doing here? I squeezed the trigger, but he sidestepped the bullet and I missed. Valafar grinned as a single word left his lips.

  “Sleep.”

  I woke inside an electric cage similar to the one I had tried to save Helldora from, only smaller. Talk about irony. Hot blue electricity zapped through the wires sandwiched between the Plexiglas. My skin crawled at the pop of hot metal, and my head pounded. I lifted to a sit and held my skull in my hands while glancing around. An older woman shared the cage with me, sitting in the opposite corner, and I jumped at the sight of her.

  “Oh, goodness, you’re alive,” she said. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  I frowned, not understanding. She smelled strange. Her clothes were worn and dirty, her hair greasy and matted. Her brown eyes were sunken and rimmed with dark circles. She must have been locked in here a long time. But it wasn’t just a lack of soap and water that made my nose scrunch. Something about her scent made my fangs itch and my blood crawl. Then I understood. She was human. Worse, she was Romani.

  She watched me from the corner of her vision, her mouth pressed in a thin line. “My blood is old and anemic. Wouldn’t do you any good.”

  I rolled my eyes. Anemia made no difference. Blood was blood. The real question was why did Apollyon lock me in a cage with a Romani? Maybe he had tainted her blood with poison, hoping I would bite. Either way, I wasn’t about to risk it.

  Ignoring the woman, I looked past the wire mesh of the cage and tried to figure out where we were. Three of the four surrounding walls were made of the same tin panels as the roof. Apollyon’s compound. That was strangely relieving. It could’ve been worse. It could have been the bottom of the ocean.

  The fourth wall made up some kind of wooden platform that reached just high enough to block my view, even when standing. Voices sounded on the other side, but I couldn’t understand the language being spoken. I glanced at myself. I’d been stripped of my weapons, that much was obvious. Then I remembered the stone and lifted my hand. Sure enough, the ring was gone.

  “Merde!” I cussed. “Merde, merde, merde!”

  “Hey,” said a deep male voice.

  Startled, I faced the woman. Past her stood a second cage with two human men inside. Food for later? The man who spoke was the older of the two. He had indigenous features; copper skin, long black hair, but he didn’t look local. Neither did the younger Caucasian guy standing next to him. I didn’t get it. Why go after tourists? The tribal massacre was risky, though easy to cover in a third world country, especially in the Americas, all things considered. Tourists, on the other hand, would piss off the R.E.D. I’d already deduced that Apollyon always had a reason for every action, so what was the reason for these humans? Why didn’t he kill me after taking the ring? What was the point?

  “Who are you?” the man whispered. “What’s your name?”

  I rolled my eyes, beyond agitated and not in the mood to discuss my life story with bloody humans. “It doesn’t matter if you whisper. Zey can hear you loud and clear.”

  That scared the younger fellow behind him. Poor kid couldn’t have been more than twenty-three with sandy blond hair and terrified hazel eyes.

  “Why is Lilly doing this?” Hazel Eyes murmured.

  Lilly? Who the heck is Lilly?

  Just then, the incubus rounded the corner, followed by an old succubus, a hellhound, a vampyre, and all five of the zombies from before. I must have been unconscious for a while if the tranquilizers had already worn off. I saw the jade ring on the vampyre’s hand. The vampyre noticed my line of sight and grinned, exposing razor sharp teeth. The woman next to me curled away, pressing her fa
ce against the corner of the cage.

  “I owe you my gratitude,” said the vampyre in a thick accent, “for returning my ring.”

  My brow furrowed. So this is Jesu’s father. I must admit, the resemblance was uncanny. Apollyon had a strong chin and square jaw, just like his sons. He walked tall, shoulders back, head high, exactly as he had taught his eldest to do. Apollyon’s sharp red eyes were his own, though, as was the malicious air about him. I lifted my chin and offered a snide smile.

  “No problem.”

  “We should kill her,” said the succubus.

  I wanted to stick a knife in her ancient liver, but I pressed my lips together and bit down instead. How the heck did this go wrong? Oh yeah, the incubus. I glanced at him from the corner of my vision, but he didn’t notice. His violet gaze was glued to the floor.

  “Nay,” Apollyon growled softly. “She is in love with one of my sons. That makes her useful.”

  I winced. Christ, I really messed up this time.

  “Ya have enough hostages,” said the succubus.

  Apollyon snarled at her. “Hold your tongue before I lock you in there, sister.”

  My gaze widened. Apollyon had a sister? A succubus sister? How was that possible?

  “I only accepted your help thus far because my ring was lost. Now it has found its way back to me. This changes everything.”

  “This changes nothin’. Don’t forget yer alive because of me.”

  Apollyon glared at his sibling and stroked the jade stone. The incubus took a careful step to the side, placing himself out the line of fire. Yet, Apollyon didn’t attack. His lip curled in a snarl, but he kept his voice even, controlled. “We will carry on as planned for now. Besides, thanks to my dear nephew here, Ema should already be on her way.”

  The incubus recoiled at Apollyon’s endearment and made a sour face. I also noticed the way in which the humans next to me tensed at the utterance of Ema’s name. The pungent fear rolling from their pores was practically palpable. These humans knew what vampyres were, that one of their own was locked in a cage with me, and yet they feared more for Ema than they did for themselves. I furrowed my brow in agitation. Just who the heck are these people?

  Chapter 27

  I sat on one of the leather settees in the foyer, a bubble of frozen terror amidst the commotion of pre-battle. Soldiers came and went. They shouted over one another while passing weapons around and tightening their armor straps. They paid me no attention—like this whole thing wasn’t about me. Like I was as unattached as the couch I sat on. Just a prop in the background. I pulled my knees to my thickly armored chest and rested my chin between them.

  A lot of people might die.

  Jesu had warned me, but the reality didn’t sink in until now. I didn’t know the names of any of Nikolas’ soldiers, if they had spouses or children, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t want any of them to get hurt. I didn’t want any of them to not come back. They rallied about the room like a bunch of high school football players before a homecoming game, completely amped on the goal of winning. No doubt. No hesitation. It was stupid and naïve—but I had to believe in their enthusiasm. I had to believe we would all survive this, that the only ones who would die would be Apollyon and his undead army.

  Not us.

  Jesu appeared directly in front of me. I lifted my gaze to his. He carried a heap of small weapons. The corner of his lips lifted slightly and he kept his tone soft. “On your feet, soldier.”

  Not in the playful mood, I released my legs and promptly stood. Jesu started shoving the weapons into the pockets of my armor. I counted twelve total throwing knives, three sheathed in each arm and shin cuff, two daggers that he strapped to my back, and a taser gun holstered in a leather belt that went around my waist.

  Jesu was already decked for battle, sporting two thin swords, a rifle, a belt of ammunition, and a stack of throwing stars. Panic lurched to the surface of my mind. “Jesu, you’re not coming with. You’re staying here with Maria and that’s final.”

  He looked at me, his brow pinched over his dark gaze, and then lowered his lashes. “The taser only has six charges before the batteries run out, so use it wisely.”

  Way to change the subject. “Don’t I get a sword?”

  His mouth thinned into a solemn line. “We are keeping you light.”

  “But I thought you said—”

  “That was in training. Compared to our exercises earlier, this will be a piece of cake.”

  I bit back a retort. I would feel better with a big sword instead of a dozen tiny knives against a herd of shape-shifting, venomous, undead vampyre-snakes, but I was in no position to argue. Besides, the plan wasn’t for me to do any fighting at all. I would have a swarm of bodyguards, and they were packed to the nines with all sorts of artillery and explosives.

  Jesu took an item out of his pocket. It looked like a little hand-held computer. He slid the gadget into my pants pocket. “Tracking device,” he murmured. “Just in case we get separated.”

  That should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. My throat constricted at the very thought and I struggled to swallow.

  In the corner of my vision, Nikolas, Brinnon, and Maria gathered near the stairs, chatting in hushed tones that were lost over the sea of commotion. My heart stopped at the gear and artillery dressing them. I grabbed Jesu’s arm and squeezed. “What are they doing? They’re not coming with!”

  Jesu glanced at my fist, and then followed my line of sight over his shoulder. “Who, Maria?”

  “And Brinnon!”

  Jesu shook his head. “Ema, they would not stay behind even if you chained them to the wall. We are all in this with you.”

  “But the whole point of the contract was for the two of you to be safe! So far Naamah is the only one who really got out.”

  “And the least deserving.” Jesu scowled.

  I let go of him and marched toward the group. “They’re not going.”

  Nikolas furrowed his brow. “Who?”

  “Jesu, Maria, and Brinnon. This doesn’t concern them.”

  “Don’t be silly, darling.” Maria held a small box in one hand. She opened it, revealing a stash of dried herbs that I recognized; Adders Tongue. “You might need this,” she said while stuffing the herbs into the remainder of my armor pockets.

  “You have to make them stay,” I said to Nikolas. “Lock them in the dungeon.”

  Nikolas grimaced. “Ema, I agreed to provide refuge for whomever you deem in need of it, but I cannot force anyone to stay here. If they want to fight, that is their choice.”

  “Even your own son?” I stomped my foot. I was acting immature, but we were seconds away from departing, and my fear got the better of me.

  “I’m a little offended,” Brinnon frowned. “I’m just as good a warrior as any of the others.”

  My jaw dropped. “Brinnon, you know that’s not what I meant… don’t you?”

  Nikolas grinned and slapped me on the back. I nearly fell forward. “Nonsense, my dear. This is what we’ve all been working toward. Now let’s go… how did you put it? Oh yes… let’s go crash Apollyon’s party!”

  Before I could object, Nikolas whistled a high, sharp note and signaled to Tancred. Tancred nodded to his king and then shouted over the crowd. “Move out!”

  The castle doors opened and the soldiers pushed past, spilling outside, where they swiftly boarded one of two stretch Hummer limousines. I guess the monstrous vehicles were a touch less conspicuous than riding in army jeeps.

  “Time to go,” Jesu whispered against my ear. He placed a hand on the back of my neck and led me forward.

  “But… but…” My throat dried and my voice trailed off. I hardly noticed when my legs started moving, keeping pace with Jesu as we passed the threshold and descended the cobblestone steps. It was so surreal. Me, shipping off for war? I’d never been the type. Four months ago, I was just an average girl trying to pay rent and recover my dignity from an unfaithful boyfriend. Now, I was being thrust into
an airplane headed for the rainforests of Central America, ala G.I. Joe, to fight some very deadly creatures that—up until a month ago—I didn’t even know existed. Wait, when did we get into the airplane? When did we leave the castle behind us?

  I glanced around the cabin at the faces sitting across from me. I was the reason they were here. I was the reason they were risking their lives. I bet they didn’t even know what they were fighting for. They simply followed Tancred’s orders, who followed Nikolas’ orders, who followed my stupid hunch that Valafar was telling the truth about Apollyon’s location.

  Jesu murmured something, but I didn’t catch it over the whir of the airplane engines and my own screaming thoughts.

  “What?” I said, glancing to my right.

  “Seat belt,” he repeated while strapping himself in.

  I lifted from the seat and slid my palms around the cushion, until I felt the nylon straps and metal buckle. Once I had the belt across my lap and fastened, I laced my fingers with Jesu’s and dug my nails into his palm. “Do not let go of me.”

  Jesu took a breath and then squeezed my hand back. “Don’t be nervous.”

  “Too late. I think I’m in shock. I think I’m having an out-of-body experience.”

  The door shut with a sticky suctioning sound. A moment later, the plane jerked forward down the runway. I’d flown dozens of times, both in an airplane and without. I wasn’t afraid of flying. I was afraid of what waited for us at our destination.

  Jesu twisted in his seat. “Ema, breathe. Do not think about where we are going or what we are doing. Just relax and focus on my heartbeat.”

  I glanced at him and tried to do what he said. I sucked in a deep breath and then released it slowly. Push everything out, I told myself. Pretend it’s just me and Jesu.

  He lifted our entwined hands to his lips and kissed my fingers. “Do you hear it? Do you hear my heart beating?”

  I could hear everything. Every clank and whir of the plane, every whoosh of wind as we picked up speed, every small gasp and stuttering pulse of the men around us as their bodies reacted to the plane’s liftoff. Every cough, every scratch, every scrape of shoes shuffled around by antsy feet.