The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series

by Natalie Wright

“No one here agrees with you, Emily. So that dumbass plan isn’t even on the table,” Greta said.

  “No? Then what is on the table?” Emily asked.

  “Two options. First, the Lucent Tribe storms the hotel where Ciardha is holed up, and we free as many of the lost people as we can, assuming they’re there,” Greta said.

  “And try not to get killed doing it,” Tristan added.

  “Yes. Or you all see reason and don’t go on a fool’s errand and walk into Ciardha’s trap. So option one, the dumbass plan. Or option two, the smart plan.”

  “Shall we be democratic and vote on it?” I asked.

  Emily shrugged her shoulders. Tristan and Greta both said yes.

  “Show of hands for option one,” I said. Tristan and I both raised our hands. Emily and Greta kept their hands down. I can’t believe she agrees with Greta and wants to do nothing.

  “Show of hands for option two,” I said. Greta raised her hand straight and high. Emily didn’t raise her hand for that option either.

  “Come on, you have to vote,” I said.

  “I’ve already told you what I think we should do. I stand by it.”

  Damn, she’s hardheaded.

  “So you abstain?” Greta asked.

  “Sure, I abstain,” Emily said.

  “You can’t abstain. You’re the leader of the L.T., Emily. The others are going to need to see a united front from us. They need to see you support our plan.”

  “They need to see their leader by their side, fighting with them, bleeding with them, dying with them if it comes to that. I can’t lead them by sitting on my ass in my house while they’re off fighting for their lives and the lives of the ones we’ve lost.”

  “They’ll understand,” I said. “The torc is too powerful to fall into Ciardha’s hands. John and Taisha will get it, and they’ll help the others to see it too.”

  She looked at me with contempt on her face, as if I had slapped her. But she didn’t argue with me about it.

  “Whad’ya say, Red?”

  “It goes against everything in me to sit on the sidelines while my people go fight my battle for me,” she said.

  “I know, Red. But listen to J on this one. He’s right and if you think about it a while, you’ll see it too. This is a little reconnaissance. It’s just a little battle in the big war, and we need to save you for the war, Red. Not lose you in a minor battle.”

  Emily’s face softened. I hated that she would listen to Tristan but not me. I hated that he knew how to talk to her and I didn’t. Why can’t I be the one you listen to? Why won’t you lean on me?

  “So?” Greta asked.

  “So? We prepare the L.T. for its first battle, without me,” Emily said.

  * * *

  Three days later, we met at L.T. headquarters, grabbed all the weapons we had, and shoved fourteen of us into the two cars and two minivans we’d scrounged up. The whole L.T. opted into the mission. Well, all except for Emily. She was there to see us off, and she gave a pep talk that lacked conviction, but she grudgingly stayed behind.

  I was surprised she didn’t come. It wasn’t like her to let go of something once she had made up her mind.

  I tried to convince Megan to beg off of the mission too, but she wouldn’t have it. When I asked Emily to help me get Megan to see reason, she said, “Why shouldn’t she go?”

  “Because she’s so–”

  “Small? Yeah. So? It’s not the size of the body …”

  “I know, I know. It’s about the energy inside.” Megan finished her sentence, proof that she had hung on Emily’s every word.

  “That’s right,” Emily continued. “By that measure, Megan is as strong as every one of you.” Emily and Megan hugged, but I got a sick feeling in my stomach. Without Emily there to watch over Megan, that job would fall to me. I didn’t feel up to the challenge.

  I rode shotgun in John’s van. We’d planned for the drive from Wheaton to Water Street to take the usual hour or so. But the freeway was practically deserted.

  “I don’t know if this is a good omen or a bad one,” I said.

  “Must be a good one,” Megan said. “The path is clear before us.” I looked back, and Megan wore a gap-toothed smile. Hope. Who was I to dash it? That job fell to Taisha.

  “That’s one way to look at it. Or maybe whatever we’re headed into already mowed down everyone in its path,” Taisha said.

  Megan’s smile disappeared, and her eyes got wide. Way to go, Taisha, I thought. I didn’t say anything, but glared at her.

  The car fell silent, and I turned back around to gaze at the deserted highway.

  Though the highway was virtually empty, I expected to see more cars downtown. But as we turned onto Wacker Drive, it was so devoid of pedestrians and taxis that I half expected to see a tumbleweed blow past us.

  “What the hell?” asked Taisha.

  “Hell is an apt word,” said John.

  There were a few cars here and there. But it was more like three a.m. traffic than mid-morning. We saw some people walking on the sidewalks, but when we got close, I saw that they had the unmistakable black eyes of the turned.

  Crosswalks flashed ‘WALK’, but there were no crowds to cross the street. Programmed streetlights turned red to stop traffic, but there were no cars to wait on. John dutifully followed the traffic laws as if he was programmed like the lights.

  I wished it had taken longer to get to the address Draicha had supplied. Thirty minutes wasn’t nearly enough time to gather the courage I needed to face Ciardha again.

  As we had planned, we pulled into the parking garage a block away from the street number Draicha had given. John stopped at the entrance to the garage, took the ticket that the machine spit out, and stuffed it into his visor like he was on his way to work or a meeting or something. He waited for the lever to rise completely, then he followed the ‘UP’ signs to the third floor.

  Emily would have driven through the wooden arm. Her lack of patience was either endearing or infuriating, depending on my mood.

  As we turned up the ramp to the third floor, Greta was already there. She stood against her car door, arms across her chest. I didn’t even need to get out of the car to see that Greta fumed.

  John pulled up beside her but left one parking space between their cars. We gathered our weapons and spilled out of John’s car. As soon as we got around to where Greta stood with the others who’d rode with her, she laid into John.

  “Don’t tell me you obeyed all the traffic laws on those deserted streets.”

  “Patience, dear Greta,” John said. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be in such a hurry to go to battle with the devil.”

  John didn’t wait for a response but turned and headed toward the sign that read ‘EXIT’. Greta looked at me as if I needed to say or do something. Her face was as red as a tomato. I just shrugged my shoulders and followed after John. I heard footsteps behind me and knew that others were coming too.

  Before long Megan was beside me. “What do we do? When we get in there, I mean.”

  “Stay close to Tristan. He’ll protect you,” I said. “And try not to die.”

  “I’d rather …”

  “What?”

  “Well, I’d rather stay with you.”

  “Me? Why? You’re safer with Tristan. He’ll watch over you.”

  “Nah, he’ll be too busy watching out for Greta. Besides, I feel safe with you,” she said.

  Safe. With me? I didn’t even feel safe with me. And I wasn’t thrilled to have responsibility for Megan’s safety.

  We exited the darkness of the parking garage and hit the bright light of near midday. We walked packed together like a giant amoeba. We paused when we got directly across the street from the Water Street Tower building.

  “Remember the plan, people,” Greta said. “Tristan, Rob, Tom and I will attempt to gain entry. The rest of you wait in two groups on either side of the doors. John, you’re the watch. Once you see that we’ve got the door open, signal the rest t
o follow us in. All eyes on John, people. Any questions?”

  Megan slowly raised her hand. I’m not sure if Greta didn’t see her hand go up, or if she was trying to ignore it, but she didn’t acknowledge Megan.

  “I have a question,” Megan said softly.

  All heads turned to look at her. Greta rolled her eyes.

  “What, Megan? It’s simple. You wait for John to give the signal, then you follow the others in and fight anyone who comes at you. What’s not to get?”

  “I know all that,” Megan said.

  “Then what’s the question?” Greta looked like she’d blow her stack.

  Megan cleared her throat. “Well, assuming we don’t all die in the lobby, and assuming we get past there, then what?”

  “Didn’t you listen last night during the meeting?” Greta didn’t bother to filter out the contempt in her voice. For Greta, it was practically a mortal sin not to listen to her.

  “I … I was …”

  “Refresher,” Tristan chimed in. “When the lobby is clear, we take the stairs to the room floors to search for lost ones. You know your groups. Half to the left. Half to the right. Each group has a lock-picking tool thanks to Tanner.”

  Tanner bowed.

  Tristan continued. “Pick locks and free people. We have room for twelve more. If the people we rescue are small, maybe fifteen. When we’ve got all we can hold, we load up and get the hell out of here and meet up again later at L.T. headquarters.”

  “Let’s hope that we find that many,” John said.

  “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s roll, people,” Greta said. She didn’t wait to see if anyone followed as she stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the street.

  The front of the hotel lacked the usual bustle. There were no cars waiting for valet parking, no bellhops with rolling carts filled with suitcases. We stood outside what used to be one of the most luxurious hotels in downtown Chicago, and from the outside, it looked deserted.

  We had expected to find the front doors barred or the old glass doors replaced with steel. Instead, the entrance looked much as it always had. The grey marble tile walls still shone in the sunlight, and the entry was still made of glass. It seemed entirely too vulnerable to be Ciardha’s fortress.

  Maybe he doesn’t think he needs a fortress.

  The four lead people walked up to the entrance while the rest of us took a flanking position on either side of the door. As soon as Greta stepped near the door, I heard the woosh of the electronic door as it opened. Rob, Tom and Tristan followed her in. As Tom got ready to cross the threshold, I saw him motion with his hands a ‘come on’ signal to John before he disappeared into the building.

  We all turned our heads to John to wait for his okay to proceed. I didn’t want to wait. I mean, I could see Tom give the signal to enter just as well as John had seen it. But we’d agreed on a protocol, and I wanted to follow it to set a good example for our group.

  John stood still and didn’t say a word or give any signal to go. What the hell is he waiting for? They may need our backup.

  After a full minute of waiting, I could take it no more. The hell with protocol.

  “John, what’s the delay? Let’s go!”

  He said nothing back, but he nodded, the signal for us to make our move. John’s group came in from the left, my group from the right.

  I motioned my group with my hand but held Megan back with my arm. “You stay with me,” I whispered to her. “We’ll be back up from the rear.”

  Megan nodded and stayed by my side as we entered the lobby behind all the others.

  While the outside of the hotel still looked pristine, the lobby was another story. The back wall had been filled with glass from floor to ceiling, but it looked like someone had busted all of the glass. The air inside the building was as cold as the early winter air outside, no barrier left to keep the chill out. The pale, yellow marble floor was strewn with broken glass and spent gun shell casings.

  There was a statue in the center of the lobby cast in bronze of what must have, at one time, been two graceful swans. But the wings and beaks were pockmarked, and the bodies of the swans were marred as well. It appeared there had either been a gunfight in the lobby or maybe the DM used the poor statue for target practice.

  The front desk where people used to check-in was empty as was the entire, large lobby. Empty except for us.

  We clambered in slowly and reformed our amoeba shape with Greta and Tristan front and center. We’d expected to meet resistance. We’d expected to spill blood before we got any further.

  Greta was our self-proclaimed leader of the mission. And she stood stone still and made no move to inch further into the lobby. Maybe, like me, she was in no big hurry to travel further into the depths of a place where we suspected Ciardha lurked. Maybe she, too, secretly hoped that we’d fight off some shadow dudes, then beat a hasty retreat before we came face to face with the dark god who had stolen Fanny from us.

  The lack of resistance in the lobby made it feel more and more like a trap. I suddenly doubted every single part of our overly simplistic plan.

  What were we thinking? He isn’t going to attack us here. He’ll wait until we’ve split up, searching upstairs, then we’ll get attacked.

  I was about ready to say out loud what I was thinking and that we should call the whole ill-conceived thing off when Tristan said, “Really thought we’d see some of the shadow dudes right off. What now, Blondie?”

  Her voice was full of annoyance as she said, “I’m thinking, I’m thinking.”

  “Piss on thinkin’,” said Tanner. He walked over to the elevators and reached for the up arrow button.

  “No!” Greta screamed.

  “What?” Tanner asked as he pushed the button.

  “Don’t push the button, moron,” Greta yelled.

  “Too late,” Tanner said. “What’s the big whoop? Ain’t nobody here.”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than the elevator opened with a chime. A small group of shadows got out, then another elevator landed and more spilled out, then another and another. One of the guys that got out of the first elevator was at least as large as Tristan, and I watched as he backhanded Tanner with a beefy club of a hand that sent Tanner sprawling to the floor.

  Greta said quietly, “That’s the big whoop, Tanner.”

  There were about twenty or so shadow people surrounding us. We’d moved ourselves to the center of the room, away from the exits, like a bunch of dumb asses.

  We allowed ourselves to become surrounded.

  There was no more time to discuss strategy or plot a course of action. The air was soon filled with the sound of weapons clacking and banging, of grunts and groans and cries of pain.

  Without thought, I swung my bo around and caught a shadow dude in the face. Before he had a chance to figure out what hit him, I quickly thrust and landed a blow in his gut. It was a combination I’d tried on Tristan, but I’d never used anywhere near my full force. I’d never before experienced the feel of my staff hitting so solidly on the bones in a person’s face or the feel of it push into someone’s soft belly flesh. The guy I hit let out a loud, “Gawgh.”

  I got into a zone of rapid figure eights to fend off swords and daggers, of thrusts and kicks and turns only to thrust again. I used my bo two-handed and one-handed. I held it to my side and gave my attackers kicks and even landed a few punches with my free hand.

  My months of hard work had paid off. I landed a lot more blows than I took. I was pretty sure I had some big bruises, especially on my left side, and I felt blood drip down my face from a gash to my forehead. But I held my own.

  I might even make it out of here alive.

  “Jake!”

  It was Megan. I turned in time to see a huge guy with a sword come down hard and cut Megan’s staff in two. He quickly slashed one-handed to the side and cut Megan across her middle. Before I could even scream out her name, I watched as Megan’s body fell to the hard, cold marble floor. I heard her gl
asses clunk onto the tile as she fell and then the thud of her body, but no sound came from her lips.

  The shadow man who’d cut Megan down stood over her with a smug smile plastered on his lips. His black eyes were wide, and the bright sunlight bounced off of them as if they were two black mirrors.

  The words bubbled up from deep inside me, a loud roar of pain. “You bastard!” I screamed. I ran at the guy like a freight train careening off its tracks at full speed.

  Fortunately for me, the big, stupid asshole was still in the process of congratulating himself for a victory over a nearly defenseless girl that he dwarfed. I swung hard and knocked the sword from his hand. Before he had time to bend down to recover his steel, I thrust my staff as hard as I could right between the third and fourth ribs on his left side.

  The move had been the subject of a theoretical debate between Greta and myself. She’d taken the position that a well-placed, hard thrust with a tapered staff to the chest wall could penetrate the soft flesh and thin muscle there and puncture the heart.

  “Even with that stupid stick of yours, you could land a fatal blow,” she’d said.

  “No way,” I’d countered. “You’re forgetting about the chest muscle running through there. A man’s chest isn’t some overripe piece of fruit.”

  I’d used the move I’d argued against and hoped Greta was right after all. I felt the stick meet resistance so I pushed again harder. My staff protruded from the guy’s breast, and his head dipped as he looked at it. He lifted his head slowly and looked at me, the smirk wiped from his face as a flower of rose-red blood bloomed on his chest.

  Fury seized me with a blind rage. I still gripped the staff, and I twisted it and wiggled it from side to side. I felt it go yet deeper into the guy’s chest.

  “I’ll … I’ll kill ya,” the man croaked.

  “Not today.” I pulled the staff from his chest and bent to pick up the sword he’d dropped. When I rose, the man clutched at his chest as if he could stop the pain and bleeding by pushing his hands to the wound.

  The sword felt heavy in my hand. I’d chosen to train mainly with a staff because it was light and versatile, but also because of its length. Six feet of defensive strength kept me well away from swinging swords, slashing daggers and punches. Besides, swords had always felt like cumbersome clubs in my hand. But I’d had enough training with a sword to get how to land a wide, sweeping cut to a man’s tender side flesh. I landed just such a blow to the dark-eyed man who’d downed Megan. I felt the slight resistance as the sword cut into his side and sliced into his gut.