Seal of Destiny (Seven Seals Series Book 1)

by Douglass, Traci

  “That’s not going to get anybody up.” Wyck hoisted Kagan up by the collar of his shirt and belted him hard across the face.

  Within moments, Kagan awakened and scrambled to his feet. He assumed an attack stance while his gaze darted around the room before finally coming to rest on Mira. “Where are we, piccola?”

  “Tolbert Headquarters.” She smoothed a hand over his forehead. She’d never been so glad to touch someone. “They drugged you and brought you here this morning. I flashed in with the guys.”

  Kagan scrubbed his face. “Those Nephilim bastards were in my apartment when I woke up.” He massaged the side of his neck and winced. “Vaff! They jabbed me with a syringe, paralyzed me.”

  Wyck’s attention snapped toward the entrance. “Someone’s coming. We need to move!”

  They bustled out the door and hid below the stairwell. Mallory passed into the holding area. Seconds later he burst out, his phone in hand. “Gone. No! I don’t give a shit. Find them!”

  • • •

  Xander and Chago snaked through the eerie silence of the compound, keeping a watchful eye out for anyone tracking their movements — for anyone, period. So far, they’d encountered no one. Not a single person. Xander’s head began to throb again. Shit. Not now.

  They crossed the plush carpet of the executive floor toward the Director’s office. Chago removed his gun while Xander palmed a dagger in each hand. Upon reaching their destination, the warriors flanked the entrance and counted to three.

  Xander kicked in the door in and they burst through. Wood splintered along with his composure. Jesus! His head was killing him. He hovered for a moment, blinking to clear his blurring vision. Steady once more, he proceeded farther into the empty office. A light glowed above the large desk at the room’s center. The chair behind rotated slowly as though its occupant had made a recent, hurried departure.

  Chago scanned the files strewn about the desktop. “Xan, check this out.”

  “How the hell did they get Mira’s file?” Xander stared at the tattered manila folder.

  “Looks like she’s not the only one they’re keeping tabs on.” Chago held up Zoe’s photo.

  “Goddammit! Anything else?” Xander snatched Zoe’s picture from Chago’s hand. His head throbbed, and his hands started to shake. He fought the psychic barrage pounding on his consciousness and shoved the photo in his pocket.

  At Xander’s command, Chago grabbed Mira’s information and tucked it under his arm. They turned to leave.

  “Going so soon, gentlemen?”

  The Director lounged against the doorway.

  Chago pointed his gun between the man’s eyes. “Out of our way, mestizo.”

  “Is that any way to talk to your superior?”

  The door slammed shut as the Nephilim leader shook his head in mock sorrow. Excruciating ripples of agony tore through Xander’s temples. Christos! They needed to escape. Now!

  Xander shot Chago a look, and they both attempted to flash. After a few moments, they each peeked an eye open and realized they were still in the office.

  Ierá skatá! Xander’s mind flooded with images of Zoe surrounded by Nephilim. Experiments. Torture. Death. His daggers dropped from his hands, and warm moisture trickled from his ears. He clutched his ravaged skull and fell to his knees.

  The Director clapped as he approached. “Nice try, Xander. Your abilities will serve us well.” He stepped over Xander’s writhing body and smiled, taking his seat behind the desk. “Now, Chago. If you’ll be so kind as to return my files, I’d appreciate it.”

  Chago aimed for his enemy’s head and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. Nothing happened.

  The other man lowered his raised hand. “Really, Scion. This is the best you can do?”

  Xander was lost in a world of hurt. He’d not been without strong mental shields since his childhood. Now, his barriers lay crumbled and tattered by the onslaught of torture ripping through his psyche. He was vaguely aware of a sudden grip on his arm, of being hoisted into the air. Chago’s shouts ricocheted beside the screams in his head — so many screams, so much pain, so little time. More shots fired followed by the sound of shattering glass. Chago grabbed him, hurled him toward the opening and then he was airborne. Falling from the top story of the building. Falling like the snow around him. Falling to oblivion.

  • • •

  After Mallory blustered through, the group eased from the stairwell to the rendezvous point. Mira’s curiosity was piqued, and she wanted answers. She grabbed Zoe’s arm while they snaked through the maze of service hallways. “Do you and Wyck have something going on?”

  Zoe pulled free. “I’m not a complete idiot, you know.”

  “I never said you were. I thought with the way Xander … ” Mira frowned. “Never mind.”

  “What about Xander?” Zoe arched a brow and moved ahead to stand near Wyck.

  Mira followed after her, only to be halted by a tug from behind. Kagan twined a finger through her belt loop and smiled, following her until they reached the rendezvous point.

  Wyck pulled out their gear, then checked the time. “Five minutes past the hour. Where the hell are they?”

  Mira shook her head and zipped up her coat. She glanced at Kagan’s lack of cover and handed him her gloves. “You’ll freeze with nothing on.”

  He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. “Thanks, piccola. But you keep them. As soon as we get outside, I’m flashing you home.”

  Footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the hallway. Wyck grabbed Zoe, and Kagan pulled Mira to him. Together they crammed inside the small supply closet. Another alarm sounded, and armed guards stormed out the service door to check the perimeter.

  “Shit! Where the hell are Xander and Chago?” Wyck whispered.

  “Captured?” Kagan tightened his hold on Mira’s waist. She covered his hand with her own and squeezed. His warmth blossomed around her and she smiled. She’d never felt safer.

  A loud boom shook the building and sent them tumbling from the closet. The lights flickered and debris rained from the ceiling. Mira clutched Kagan’s arm with one hand and covered her nose and mouth with the other as dust choked her lungs.

  Zoe shielded her head and glanced around. “What the hell’s going on?”

  The smell of sulfur permeated the air, and black smoke billowed from the heating vent. Wyck and Kagan spoke in unison. “Lucifer.”

  Chapter 17

  “We can’t wait.” Kagan grabbed Mira’s arm and headed for the exit. “We need to go now!”

  Wyck helped Zoe slip into a janitor’s uniform then pushed her out the door after Kagan.

  “We have to reach the tree line in order to flash out of here.”

  Kagan exited into the blinding white snowpack. He pulled out his gun, high-tailing for a small group of pines at the edge of the property, oblivious to the bitter cold. He gave Mira what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he plowed along beside Wyck.

  The gunfire increased and snow exploded around them as they plunged into the snowscape outside. Wyck seized Zoe’s wrist and yanked her ahead, only to stop a few feet later when Zoe crumpled to the ground in a heap. A large, feathered-tipped dart protruded from her back. “Bloody hell!”

  Mira screamed and struggled against Kagan. “Let me go, dammit! She’s hurt.” He drew her closer, quelling her resistance.

  “The best way to help her is to get her out of here, piccola.” Kagan knelt on one knee, squinting into the horizon. Shots rang out from the forest ahead. “Vaff! We’re surrounded.”

  Bullets whizzed past. Wyck crouched beside Zoe, checking her pulse before picking her up and trudging forward again. A bullet struck dead center in the back of his day-glow orange jacket. He face-planted in the snow before Kagan could reach his side. His limp form continued to twitch as more ammo riddl
ed his body.

  Blood soaked the snow around Wyck and stained his hair and clothes. Weapon drawn, Kagan returned fire to keep their pursuers at bay until Wyck revived. He kept Mira close behind him as he swiveled and fired repeatedly. Her arms locked around his waist gave him both comfort and energy. A brief respite in the gunplay allowed Kagan time to drop a quick kiss on her wind-chapped cheek and tuck her beneath his chin. He would get them out of this, no matter the cost.

  The pine grove hovered close. Kagan urged Mira toward it and moved to follow behind. He took one step and a bullet tore through his side. Kagan stumbled, then fell to one knee. A second bullet ripped into the muscle of his left thigh. He gritted his teeth and attempted to regain his footing. Mira turned and screamed, started back toward him. He tried to wave her off, tell her to stay away. She ignored his warning and continued toward him amidst the blitz of shots.

  Mira disappeared from his peripheral vision. Then a sudden weight tumbled on top of him. Mira slumped across his back. Her shallow breathing did little to ease his rising panic. He reached back, his fingers pressing into the side of her neck. Kagan located her faint, thready pulse. Madre de Dio! She was alive, but how badly injured?

  He yanked her in front of him. Two metal tranquilizer darts protruded from the nylon quilt of her snowsuit, one from her left shoulder and one from her hip. With a growl, he fought the rising bile in his throat and forced himself up.

  Shouts in the distance grew loud as a security squad drew closer. A sudden, hard grip caught his arm. Wyck’s weary tone sliced through the brutal freeze. “Got to get out now, K!”

  Hot, sticky moisture trickled from Kagan’s wounds before turning viscous and freezing to his skin. His blasted eyes watered and his cheeks stung in the sub-zero gales. The bitter cold caused his breath to crystallize and his thoughts staggered like a drunken bear. Kagan clenched his side to mitigate the pain of hoisting Mira’s body into his arms. He battled the waves of dizziness from blood loss to maintain his grip. “Let’s go.”

  Wyck stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Listen to me, K. We need to flash out of here now to survive. Our reserves are severely depleted. Attempting to flash with another person in our current condition would be suicide. Mira and Zoe are tranquilized, not dead. Tolbert wants them alive. Our best bet to save them is to regroup and hit the bastards hard with a full arsenal. The alignment isn’t until tomorrow. They won’t do anything until then.”

  Dai! Kagan looked at Mira’s unconscious form. His warrior instincts told him Wyck was correct, that Tolbert wouldn’t risk their big opportunity. His Scion mind rationalized his actions, yet Kagan’s heart rioted at the thought of leaving his mate behind. If those half-breed pompinara harmed one hair on her head, he’d lay waste to every single one of them.

  Kagan clenched his jaw and bent to place a lingering kiss on her lips before placing her beside Zoe. “Ti amo, mio tesoro.”

  The sound of shattering glass mingled with distant gunshots. Two bodies burst from a top-floor window and plummeted to the frozen landscape below. Kagan and Wyck drew their weapons and aimed. One figure rose and picked up the other, then hustled toward them. Wyck placed a hand above his eyes to focus on the approaching stranger, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Bloody hell! It’s Chago. And he’s carrying Xander.”

  Chago hustled past them and headed up the hill to the nearby pine grove. A trail of bright red blood streaked the snow in his wake. Wyck and Kagan caught up to him. After one final look at Mira and Zoe, Kagan bowed his head and vanished.

  • • •

  The four warriors arrived at Kagan’s apartment in a mass of blood and limbs. Chago limped to the sofa and placed Xander down before falling into a nearby armchair. Kagan snatched a dishtowel from the kitchen and checked Xander’s wounds. Plenty of cuts and bruises from the high-rise fall, but nothing requiring more than antiseptic and healing. Blood caked around Xander’s ears. He wiped it away, glad when no new flow took its place. Oca! What happened to Xander? “Who did this?”

  Wyck pulled beers out of the fridge and brought them to the living room. Chago opened his and downed it in one gulp before answering. “The Director.”

  Xander stirred on the sofa. His quicksilver eyes snapped open and he bolted upright, glancing at his surroundings. “What the hell happened? Where are we?”

  “You’re at my place.” Kagan tossed him the towel, managing a small grin. Scant relief flooded his system. Xander was safe, but Mira wasn’t. His heart ached. “We escaped … barely.”

  “With Mira and Zoe?”

  “No.” He couldn’t hide the flinch Xander’s question prompted. Every fiber of his being cried out to return to the headquarters and retrieve her. Yet he knew such actions were foolish. Storming the walls now would be a death wish. They needed time to prepare for war. They had twelve hours. Vaff! Kagan chugged his beer. “Tolbert has them, shot full of tranquilizers.”

  “Psychic warfare.” Xander stared at the bloodstained towel in his hands. “They used my latent talents against me. I expect they’ll be doing the same to Zoe.” He leaned back into the cushions, his face a mask of undisguised fury. “Christos! The visions. I’ve never seen such evil. The malakas are going to do it. Armageddon.”

  “Not if we can stop it.” Kagan tossed his beer bottle from the living room to land a three-pointer in the recycle bin. For the second time in less than an hour, the tinkle of shattering glass filled the air. “And we will.”

  “Abso-bloody-lutely!” Wyck jumped up from his seat faster than a triggered land mine, his gaze dropping to front of his now tattered jacket. “Bollocks. I just bought this blasted thing last week!”

  Kagan clapped him on the shoulder, squinting at the neon orange and yellow outwear monstrosity. “Ugly as hell. Good riddance, amico.”

  “Si, he’s right.” Chago chuckled. “Where the hell’d you get that fugly thing anyway?”

  “Off the Internet. It’s the latest trend in alpine chic.” Wyck plunged the decimated jacket into the trash on his way to the fridge. “What the hell do you know about fashion, anyway, Oscar de la Rent-a-Wreck?” Wyck gave Chago’s mud-encrusted jeans and plain white tee a quick once-over. “Last time I checked, you weren’t winning any awards.”

  Chago countered with a silent, one-finger salute.

  Kagan watched the proceedings, his usual enjoyment absent. Fear sat lead-heavy in his gut, draining his emotions until only cold, hard need remained. He had to save Mira, refused to live without her. Merda! This was his fault. Again. He needed to do something. Anything. Flashes of his sisters’ faces trickled through his mind like a watercolor in the rain. He couldn’t lose another woman he loved. With a determined grunt, he strode across the loft to his closet and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. “I need to rescue Mira.”

  Xander stared at Kagan for a moment, his expression taut and cryptic. Then, following a deep breath and a roll of his shoulders, he turned to Wyck. “Notify the others. I’ll give you a rendezvous point after I talk to Divinity.”

  Wyck nodded and took out his phone. “Buggering hell!”

  A bullet hole pierced the center. He tossed it in the trash on top of his ruined coat, reached into a second pocket, and removed a different device.

  “Been wanting to try the new version, anyway.” He plugged the phone into a charger and headed to the bathroom. “While she’s revving up, I’m hitting the shower.”

  “Xan, what happened with the Director?” Kagan asked, sitting on the sofa to pull on a fresh pair of boots.

  “Tolbert is bigger than anyone imagined.” Xander got up and walked to the kitchen. He snagged a soda from the fridge and cracked it open. “From what I can interpret, they’ve been working toward this goal since their exile. Their knowledge base is enormous, and frankly, they don’t give a shit anymore. A dangerous combination. And that doesn’t include their vast pool of resources.”


  He sank into a chair at the table. “They’ve been operating under the radar for the last two thousand years. Hell, I’m not sure Divinity knows the true extent of their dealings. One thing’s for certain — they’re all over these Seals like bugs on manure. I wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t getting help from Lucifer. He’s never been too particular about his cohorts as long as he got what he wanted.” Xander stared at his soda can with sudden, renewed interest. His brow furrowed, and his gaze took on a jagged, brittle fury. “Psologliftis.”

  Kagan frowned. The pieces still didn’t fit. Why would Tolbert need Xander and Zoe’s abilities with the Seal in their possession? Why reveal information in Xander’s visions — telling him secrets, knowing he’d use the information to destroy them — and allow him to live? “Lucifer and the Nephilim? I doubt even he would stoop so far. Not after what happened during the Fall.”

  “How else could they access Divinity’s vaults?” Xander pinned Kagan with a steady gaze, his tone reserved. “Yes. The thefts were their doing.”

  Xander gave a self-deprecating snort. “Did I mention the Director offered me a position with Tolbert? Skata! I’m the commander of the Scion, and he acted like I was a bag boy at the grocery.” His abrupt snort of laughter was decidedly unpleasant. “He knew all about the amulet too.”

  Wyck emerged from the bathroom. “Hey, K, I need to borrow some clothes.”

  “Fine.” Kagan nodded then returned his gaze to Xander, intent on finding a viable solution. “How do we defeat them? The Nephilim aren’t immortals. They can be killed, right?”

  “Yes, they can be killed. They’re not immortal. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Weren’t the Nephilim destroyed?” Chago asked, joining Xander at the table.

  “The official answer? Yes.” Xander rubbed his eyes before scratching the dark stubble shadowing his jaw. “Unofficially? Not annihilated. Only driven underground for a long, long time.”