Lincoln: Angelbound Book 2 with bonus novella, Duty Bound

by Bauer, Christina;

  And that’s why Armageddon set loose the tinea. Clever.

  Approaching Myla, I point across the arena floor. “Tinea demon. And it’s heading straight for Adair.”

  Myla frowns. “Of course, it is.”

  Tineas are hunter-seekers of the demonic world. Set them on a scent and they’ll never stop until their quarry is dead. Doubtless, Armageddon set the Tinea after Adair, thinking she’s the next Great Scala. Trouble is, Tineas have an excellent sense of smell. If this one gets near Myla, it will scent igni on her. Even I can catch the electric undertone she now carries. It’s like lightning before a storm. Unmistakable.

  “I’ll stall the demon.” I reignites my baculum. “Make sure she doesn’t move or make any noise.” There’s no question who she is in this scenario. Adair.

  Myla nods. My girl knows that tinea demons are masters at detecting motion and sound. As long as Adair stays in place and quiet, the tinea won’t kill her.

  After bumping fists with Myla, I race off toward the opposite side of the arena floor. With all my focus, I will my boots to thud the ground with extra force. Rhythmic pounding like a dinner bell to a tinea. I’m almost to the opposite wall when the ground before me starts to crack.

  Something is surfacing.

  The tinea hauls itself out of the earth. A humanoid worm, the tinea stands about five feet tall with a sinewy body, greasy brown skin, and a great gaping hole of a mouth. Its head is an eyeless lump covered with fine, hair-like quills. Diamond-sharp claws shaped like rotors spin at the end of its rope-like arms and legs.

  The only way to kill a tinea is to cut off all its arms and legs at once.

  No one’s done that yet.

  That said, people have fought it and lived. For a little while, anyway. Tinea never give up.

  The demon swipes a wormlike arm in my direction. Its diamond claws aim for my eyes. I firm up my stance, block, lunge, and dodge. The demon is incredibly fast. We quickly get into a dance of battle moves. Sweat beads down my spine. My arms ache from such quick movement. I fought thrax for eight hours straight and never had to shift this quickly.

  A piercing voice echoes across the arena. “You’re pretending to be the Scala Heir, aren’t you?” That would be Adair. “Well, you’re not. I’m the Scala Heir. I’M THE SCALA HEEEEEEIR!”

  Damn.

  The tinea stops. Angling its lumpy head, it sniffs through two jagged nose-holes. “Scala Heir.”

  Oh no, it caught the scent of igni on Myla.

  A new burst of adrenaline courses through me. I hack onto the tinea’s limbs with fresh vigor. Slices appear on its worm-like skin, but the wounds close almost as soon as I open them. Nevertheless, I still cut away at the demon while it burrows back into the earth.

  No question where it’s heading.

  Myla.

  Turning, I rush back toward my girl. “Don’t move!” I cry.

  Adair stands beside Myla. My girl is still and quiet, while Adair chatters away while moving so much, you’d think she’d been asked to start dance lessons.

  As I close in, Adair wraps her arms around me. “Lincoln! I knew you’d come for me.” She jumps up and down. Again.

  I sigh. “Adair, you need to work on your listening skills.” No doubt, Myla told her a million times to be silent and not move.

  Adair cuddles into my chest. “Oh, my Prince! I was so frightened.”

  “Everything will be fine, Adair.” I focus on my girl. “Myla, you said you’d keep her still.”

  Myla sets her fists on her hips. “I tried. She’s kind-of a bitch.”

  I try not to laugh. That said, I don’t try too hard. Adair really does have listening issues. It runs in the family.

  Adair rounds on Myla. “No one speaks to the Scala Heir in that manner!”

  Myla raises her hand to shoulder height. It’s what I’ve learned is her move for, I’m about to call down a lot of pain and igni on your head. But there isn’t time for my girl to summon her powers.

  Beneath our feet, the earth rumbles once more. Rotor-like hands break through the ground. A lumpy head and wormy body peep up from the broken earth. Up close, the leathery skin shimmers with mucus.

  The tinea is resurfacing.

  Adair screams her head off.

  The quills on the Tinea vibrate, then fall still. The creature sniffs through its thin nose-holes. Its lumpy head turns in Myla’s direction. “Scala Heir.”

  Myla goes into battle stance, tail arched over her shoulder. Adair steps between my girl and the demon.

  “No, no, no!” whines Adair. “I’m the Scala Heir.”

  I grab Adair’s arm, trying to pull her out of the way. She won’t budge.

  This is officially irritating.

  Myla does a few more moves to both protect Adair and stall out the tinea. The protecting bit is entertaining, considering how Myla had to trip Adair in order to protect her. Another moment where I wish I had a camera. I’ve seen anyone kick Adair. It isn’t very princely of me to admit, but it wasn’t too terrible.

  In terms of stalling out the tinea, Myla jams her tail into the ground, spears the monster through the head, and flings it against the opposite wall of the arena. I saw this move once before, when Myla was fighting the arachnoid at the winter tournament. It involves her swishing her hips while sending something zooming from her tail, whip-style.

  It’s one of my favorite sights, actually.

  With the tinea safely across the arena floor, we have a precious few minutes before it rounds back for another attack. A battle plan appears. My eyes widen.

  I turn to Myla. “I’ve got an idea.” To demonstrate, I split my baculum from a long sword into a pair of short swords. Right away, my girl knows what I’m thinking. She smiles and tilts her head. The question is there, although silent (this is a tinea after all). My girl’s asking, What next?

  “Get behind me,” I say.

  Myla gets right into position. It’s like we’ve fought together our entire lives, and I love it. I sense the rumble of the tinea through my legs as is closes back in.

  “Now?” whispers Myla.

  I keep my voice calm and low. “Not yet.”

  Then, it happens.

  The tinea’s greasy head-lump breaks through the arena floor.

  Next, the demon’s wormy torso follows.

  Finally, ropy legs pop out of the dirt and lock onto the ground.

  “Now, Myla!” I bend over at the waist. There’s pressure as Myla sets her foot on my back. She launches herself into the air, somersault-twists over the tinea’s head, and lands behind the demon in a crouch. I raise my short-swords high.

  That’s it.

  We’re in position.

  As I bring my blades down through the demon’s arms, Myla swipes her tail through the monster’s legs. The creature pauses, shivers, and then disintegrates into a puddle of brownish goop.

  We did it.

  The first ever tinea has now been taken down.

  “You killed it,” whispers Adair. “Together.”

  I’d think she was being kind, but Adair’s wearing her plotting face. Clearly, she’d planned this visit to the arena to end far differently than Myla and I fighting side by side. If history is any indicator, Adair will now find Aldred, whine, and come up with another plan.

  Something to deal with later.

  Myla and I bump fists. She wiggles her bottom. “We are a lean, mean demon killing machine.”

  I laugh. Is there anything better than fighting with Myla? Actually, I can think of a few things, but we’re taking it slowly.

  “How’d you know how to fight like that?” asks Adair.

  “Lincoln broke the baculum in two,” begins Myla. “So, obviously he’s going for the demon’s arms. And if he’s taking out the arms, then I need to get the legs. That’s the only way to kill a tinea.”

  I wrap my hands about Myla’s waist. “Nicely done.”

  She kisses the tip of my nose. “Back at ya.”

  Suddenly, the air around u
s pulses with energy. There’s nothing like battle to make you realize how much you want to get naked with someone else. Myla’s eyes flare red.

  “Later, Myla.”

  “Got anything more specific for me on that?”

  I frame her beloved face with my fingertips. “There will be time for us. I swear it.” I lean in to whisper in her ear. “I think that’s a record for fastest time from zero to sparkling.”

  “You’re such a competitive little creep,” she retorts. But there’s no mistaking the smile in her voice. Exhaling, she steps away. “I need to find Walker. I’m late to the bunker as it is.”

  I arch my brows. “I need? Do you think you’re going alone?”

  Myla blinks. “I thought that was the plan.”

  “When Armageddon invaded Purgatory, the plans changed. I’m not going anywhere until I’m certain you’re safe.”

  “I’d tell you to join your people, but you won’t listen to me anyway.”

  I shoot her a sly grin. “And secretly, you totally want me around.”

  She blushes. “That too.”

  “Knew it.” I wink at Myla, then turn to Adair. “Can you walk?”

  Adair turns up her nose. “I’m fine.”

  “Very good,” I say. “I’m afraid you must travel with us until we can get you home.”

  “That’s okay,” says Adair. If you didn’t know her and her family, you’d think Adair was being a normal person right now. Unfortunately, I know the House of Acca. The plotting continues.

  “Hello, there!” Walker limps toward us, his arm raised in welcome. He looks far better now. That ghoul’s ability to self-heal is nothing less than phenomenal. “I can portal everyone to the bunker now.”

  I take Myla’s hand in mine, ready for the next phase of our adventure. The definition of staying with Myla until she is safe could certainly be open to interpretation.

  I’m hoping for a century, minimum.

  39

  Minutes later, I step out of Walker’s portal and into the bunker. Walker, Adair and Myla are with me. In terms of space, the bunker is a large square space made of smooth concrete. There are shelves overflowing with supplies. Metal folding chairs. Reminds me of the houses of Liten and Rena. Those clans still don’t allow electronics, but they keep their homes more cost-effective and modern.

  Speaking of electronics, the communications wall was supposed to be lit up by now. It’s still dark. Camilla, Cissy, and Zeke all lurk in a corner, wide eyed and silent. Tim seems jittery and pale.

  Fresh adrenaline courses through me. I don’t like this.

  Myla waves across the room. “Hey, guys.”

  No response.

  “Don’t all say hello at once,” adds Myla.

  Both Myla and Walker try to get folks talking. It soon becomes clear what the problem is.

  Tim, the oddball ghoul.

  “I know who this one really is.” Tim points his bony finger toward Camilla. “You’d never accept being a seamstress, Senator. You’re plotting against the ghoul government, you and that witch you call a daughter. I chose to side against my people once, when I decided to work for you. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

  Oh no. There’s so much unhinged in that speech, I don’t know where to begin. Tim seems to have worked for Camilla and carried a massive torch for her. The experience has somehow rotted out his logic. In a strange way, I can understand. I know how the heart can fool with the mind; I just experienced it myself. After all, who would think that I’d give up a kingdom for a girl? Is what Tim’s doing that much different?

  Tim spins around, showing that he holds a short spear against Cissy’s back. “This weapon’s covered in poison. Make no mistake; one scratch will kill her. None of you move.”

  I take it back. What Tim is doing is far different. We don’t threaten women.

  My fingers itch to grab my baculum and strike Tim through, but the young ghoul looks far too twitchy for that. Cissy could end up dead. Instead, I bring out my diplomatic skills and approach Tim.

  “We came from the Arena,” I explain. “The demons attacked everyone, ghouls included. The Oligarchy barely escaped with their lives. We’re on the same side, friend.”

  “The demons attacked, eh?” Tim scowls. “And whose fault is that? You forget, I worked with the Senator for years. She’d never give up on the republic. She’s still scheming and fighting, mark my words.”

  Camilla steps forward. “Please understand, Tim. I’m not the same–”

  “Spare me.” He turns to Camilla, eyes blazing. “I’m not sure how you’ve angered Armageddon, but you’ll pay for it. The Oligarchy are coming.”

  A new portal opens; through it steps the Oligarchy in their deep red robes. The Scala lies on a stretcher between them; the old thrax’s eyes closed in deep sleep. The portal disappears. We’re all trapped in here together. Not good.

  My thoughts race through this new development. The Great Scala is here. Maxon Bane disappeared from the arena floor. At the time, I assumed his guards followed their protection plan and evacuated the Great Scala to Antrum. So what happened to the guards? Faint arcs of shiny black liquid mark the edge of Maxon Bane’s stretcher. If I could lean in, I’m sure it would have the scent of charcoal. Ghoul blood.

  Maxon Bane’s true guards are gone. The Oligarchy have taken over transporting him around.

  This his Armageddon written all over it.

  And Myla is the Scala Heir, so now she’s a pawn in their games.

  Damn, we were so certain things would be fine with Maxon Bane as the Great Scala. We didn’t suspect his guards would fail. You can’t plan for every turn of fate, but somehow, I wish I’d seen this coming earlier.

  Tim’s sneer melts into a look of awe. “Mighty Oligarchy, I bring you a prisoner to appease our invaders.” He gestures to Camilla. “Senator Lewis.” Next, he points directly at Myla. “And that one may pretend to have special powers. Don’t be fooled.”

  The Oligarchy set down the Scala’s stretcher. “Excellent work.” Their heads swivel in unison as they survey the room. “And this place is safe from demons?”

  “Yes, it’s surrounded in angel fire,” answers Tim. “It’s the perfect place to conduct your negotiations.”

  “And you’re certain this plan will work?” ask the Oligarchy.

  Tim’s huge black eyes beam with pride. “Yes, it’s like I told you. Senator Lewis would never really become a seamstress. She’s been planning to restore the old republic. Believe me, this is why Armageddon invaded. Get rid of the Senator, you’ll get rid of him too.”

  Not sure what Tim sees, but Myla’s mother does not strike me as a viper planning to return to power. To me, Camilla seems all mother bear. Obviously, Tim’s thinking with his injured heart. And the Oligarchy? They are well-known cowards. It’s how they ended up being puppets for Armageddon in the first place. They’ll be happy with any reason not to fight.

  Well, I won’t allow them to hand over the women to Armageddon.

  The Oligarchy let out a low hiss, then speak in unison. “The King of Hell arrives any moment.” Their heads turn in a single motion, scanning the room. “Let us hope that handing over the Senator is enough to appease him.”

  A pang of realization hits me. Armageddon is coming here? Now? I thought I was leading Myla to safety. Instead, I took her to the absolute worst spot in the after-realms. Now we’re trapped underground with none other than Armageddon coming after us.

  Myla’s mother comes to the same conclusion. “You told Armageddon where we’re all hiding?” Camilla rolls her eyes. “He’ll come here all right, but not just for us.”

  The Oligarchy look around the room, their gaze pausing on the Great Scala and then Adair. “We see the Scala Heir is here as well.”

  Tim rushes to Adair’s side, pulling her up from the floor. “Yes, mighty Oligarchy. She’ll be useful to you. If the Senator isn’t enough, you can negotiate with her as well.”

  The Oligarchy’s eyes flare bright. “Yes, mos
t suitable.”

  Adair struggles under Tim’s grip. “I’m not the Scala Heir. It was all a fake.” She points directly at Myla. “She’s the one. She’s the heir.”

  Pure rage swells within me, but I keep it contained. Reacting to Adair’s words will only validate them. I look to Walker. There must be something he can do. I catch his eye and whisper the word Upsilon. Walker knows thrax battle codes. That one is for a quick exit. In this case, I’m thinking a ghoul portal is the obvious choice.

  Walker nods. He agrees. My friend closes his eyes, but no portal appears. I think through the charms I have on my person. Perhaps Walker is still ill and needs some healing? I want to speed things along, but I can’t risk attracting more attention.

  The Oligarchy continue addressing Adair. “You’re whatever Armageddon believes you to be, little girl.”

  Adair staggers backward until her back hits the concrete wall. “But I’m not the heir, really.” All the color drains from her face.

  “It won’t come to that,” say the Oligarchy. “Armageddon will take the Senator and leave.”

  With those words, the Oligarchy’s plan becomes clear. Appease Armageddon. They’ll hand over Camilla, Adair, Maxon Bane … anyone. I scan the old thrax on the stretcher. That poor soul is Armageddon’s son. The King of Hell has sent us many royal missives, demanding we help hand Maxon Bane over. Those letters contained overly-long descriptions of the tortures planned for his child. I can’t stand by while one of my people is sent off to agony.

  “Don’t worry, Scala Heir.” The Oligarchy bow slightly to Adair. “The plan is perfect. Handing over the Senator will work.”

  Walker’s eyes blaze red. “Time to change the plan.” At last, a portal starts to take shape by the far wall.

  I contain my urge to cheer. Yes!

  The Oligarchy’s gaze snaps in Walker’s direction. “Don’t try to circumvent us, traitor.”

  The portal vanishes.