Ascension (The Gryphon Series)

by Rourke, Stacey

  Instead, his disembodied voice teased across my neck, “A word, please?” Before I could argue, I experienced the familiar—but always disconcerting—sensation of my body disintegrating into a smoky mist.

  A second later I toppled forward on to my, thankfully, solid hands and knees a few feet away in front of Angel Cakes Bakery. Closed eyes and calming breaths were mandatory as I waited for the world to stop spinning.

  “Mutants! At alert!” Trent bellowed from the back of the crowd. The neat rows of bodies pivoted in perfect military precision. Rowan found himself the target of nearly two hundred vengeful glares that visibly longed for the blood of the enemy that dared to manhandle their new leader.

  “It’s okay!” I made it to my feet, but had to pause with my hands on my knees as another wave of vertigo hit. “I’m fine. He’s a friend—in a very liberal use of that word. So, as you were, stand down, or whatever command means chill the crap out.”

  The troops obeyed without question and returned to their at ease posture.

  “Because why wouldn’t she come back from a solo day out with an army of loyal demon followers?” Rowan murmured to himself.

  I had no way to know what the day had held for Rowan, but judging by his appearance he’d had his particular brand of “fun.” His casual, yet trendy attire was dirty and torn. A fresh bruise darkened his cheek. His lower lip was freshly split, recent enough that the blood hadn’t yet dried.

  “Squeeze in one last cage match before the apocalypse, did ya?” Finally able to stand, I wiped the nausea sweat from my cheeks and brow.

  “It seems we don’t have one iota of self-preservation between us.” The deep purple of his cheek emphasized the sallow shadows under his eyes.

  “Rowan, are you …”

  He shook his head in an adamant answer to a question I hadn’t yet voiced. Pact or no pact, he stepped body skimming close. Wild panic widened his eyes and sharpened his features. “I get that you’ve accepted yourself as the sacrificial lamb, but I haven’t. I meant what I said about standing beside you to the end. I will lay down my life before I see any harm come to you. No matter what. But if I thought for one minute you’d go willingly, I’d transport you to the ends of the earth where none of this could ever find you.”

  For a split second I allowed myself to play the what-if game. We would have to keep moving. Hopping from one tropical paradise to the next before my past could catch up. The golden-haired pirate would introduce me to the sea and all its wonders. I would teach him not to be a lying, scheming tool. It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Yet, as my gaze wandered to the town I’d grown to love, I knew I couldn’t do it. Light posts lined the two lane street, but no one milled on the sidewalks beside them. The quaint storefronts were dark, their signs turned to closed by order of the city officials. Gainesboro had never been a bustling burg, but it was home to love, kindness, and community. By now most of the residents had evacuated. The rest were hiding in fear. And I brought this down on them. Me. I owed it to them to return their home and sense of security. No matter what it cost.

  I laid my palm against his cheek and empathically offered him a taste of my resolve. “I have to do this. I hope you can understand.”

  The anguish in his turquois eyes swirled with acceptance I’d forced upon him. I lingered long enough to watch his reluctance fade then pulled my hand away. Without glancing back, I spun on my heel and strode toward my army.

  “It’s almost dusk.” I attempted a commanding bellow, but even I noticed how it caught. “Those that are coming will be here soon. The rest of you; fall in line.”

  The sun hung low in the sky, bowing its weary head from the day’s trials. I stood on the front steps of the newly rebuilt library. Each tick of the clock tower atop it amped my anxiety up another notch. Caleb and Rowan flanked me, their postures their own interpretation of possessive anxiety. Terin stood guard at the base of the cement stairs. Her flames simmered like hot embers ready to erupt with the smallest drop of provocation. I guessed her distrust of our demon army was to blame for her—the walking, talking wall of fire—placement between me and them. The soldiers occasionally shifted their weight or made minor adjustments, but otherwise they held formation firm. Eerie silence trumpeted that we were the only souls left in the tiny town.

  “You told them Main Street, Gainesboro, right?” Rowan tugged down the rolled sleeves of his powder blue shirt as the evening air chilled. “Every town in the continental US has a Main Street. Maybe it’s a simple communication error.”

  “They’ll be here,” I declared with forced conviction. I knew enough not to let Rowan see my trepidation. He would take that as an open invitation to whisk me out of here against my will.

  Caleb cast his gaze to the stoop as he wrestled with the words none of us wanted to consider, “An’ if they’re not?”

  “Then …” My family abandoned me. My chin quivered at the thought and I tensed my jaw to steady it. “… they were all smart enough to run. We may have to wait a little longer for the Dark Army, but with all of us here they’ll still come.”

  “Waiting won’t be an issue.” Rowan’s words came out a breathless gasp as he pointed to the mountains south of us.

  I followed his stare and muttered a colorful expletive under my breath. The mountain range had vanished, swallowed whole by a thick black fog that rolled and churned hungrily, consuming all in its wake.

  “Blimey. What is that?” Caleb whispered.

  “Is there any chance that Santa felt his sleigh had become contrite and gave it up for a rolling, black cloud of terror?” I raised my hand, fingers crossed.

  “That would make the idea of bein’ on the naughty list more forebodin’, but I don’t think tha’s the case, lovey.”

  “Damn,” I groaned then raised my voice for the benefit of my team, “This is it, kids. Looks like it’s just us. At the ready!”

  I didn’t blame my family for running. Fate’s bulls-eye was on my back, not theirs. Still, not having them by my side felt … wrong. It left me more exposed and vulnerable than ever before and this was the worst possible time for that. All I could do was take solace in the fact that they would be safe. No matter what played out, I could hold on to that.

  “We’ve got movement from a side street!” Trent’s shout snapped me from my reverie as he broke formation and sprinted toward the intersection. About a dozen soldiers matched his pace and trailed him. “Possible secondary attack!”

  “Wait!” Hope exploded in me with such force tears welled in my eyes. “That’s my brother!”

  Gabe rounded the corner by The Old Shamrock Grill. But he wasn’t alone. The entire football team, school faculty, and quite a few parents tailed him. His bare pecs rose and fell with each determined stride as he marched his fleet straight for us. Our eyes locked long enough for him to give me a quick wink. I spoke Gabe-enese fluent enough to know that translated to, “Did you ever really doubt I’d be here?”

  Slowly, I shook my head in answer to his unspoken question.

  My confidence improved by leaps and bounds, but the Garrett clan wasn’t done yet. Music. To the left of us. A gorgeous canopy of ivory appeared around the side of a light pole. Keni—our punk angel—bobbed onto Main Street with the Glee Club hot on her heels. Their acappella chorus provided them with up-tempo traveling music. The entire high school student body followed Keni, their winged avenger.

  “The old people are the only ones that brought weapons. Does anyone else find that disturbing?” My head whipped around at Rowan’s proclamation. Striding up the street behind us was Grams and all the members of the Gainesboro Senior Center. The grey haired posse was packing pitchforks, baseball bats, golf clubs, and crow bars. Proof you should never tangle with old people.

  The demonic soldiers parted to allow the newcomers to convene around the stairs that had now become my podium. I peered down into the faces of the young, the old, and everything in between and found no fear. Only resolve for the fight ahead. The half-grin I’d
tried to fight snuck its way across my mouth. My family actually pulled it off. I asked them to use their influence in town to bring me an army, and they delivered. Now it was up to me to hold up my end of the deal.

  “The town we love has come under attack.” I projected for all to hear, my voice echoing down Main Street. “The safety and security we depend on was ripped out from under us. Tonight, that same threat has come to finish the job.”

  “Gainesboro won’t go down without a fight!” an old dude yelled, shaking his pitchfork in the air.

  I paced along the top stair, purposely making eye contact with as many of them as I could. “They’re already anticipating their victory. They’ve fought our kind before and think we’re an easy target.” Pausing in the dead center, I faced my warriors head on. “But they haven’t faced us.”

  A few members of the crowd hooted in response.

  “I can’t guarantee all of us will get out of this alive. But, I can promise that by the time this ends they’re gonna regret picking this town and these people. Because we won’t bow down!” I emphasized each word and yelled the last sentence hard enough to make my throat ache.

  A thunderous roar of agreement rang through the streets of Gainesboro.

  The black rolling cloud crept into my peripheral vision. About a half mile up the road forms began to emerge from it. Every kind of demon we had ever faced was represented: Bat-bulls, shapeshifters, titans, Nazleers, and more. All of them marching toward us in perfect synchronization.

  “Celeste!” Terin yelled over the crowd. “Keep the channel open until we gain a strong foot hold! Then you have to shut it down!”

  Fear rose in my throat, stinging like acidic bile. I gulped it down and nodded. Then I stepped back, granting Rowan and Caleb the safety of a little distance as I threw my arms out wide. With my head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut, I opened my heart completely. For the first time, I let it all in. Convulsions tore through me, rattling my bones and jarring my nerves, as the connection was made.

  The Gryphon was there, waiting for me. Until that moment he had only given bits of his essence. Now all the power he possessed flowed into me in a rampant surge. The boost equated an erupting geyser versus a dripping sink faucet. Every cell in me sang out with euphoric agony. My deficient shell couldn’t contain this power, nor did it want to.

  My eyes opened to a sharper, more defined world. Not a detail went beyond my notice; not one bead of sweat, not one wafting lock of hair. I cocked my head, ears perked. I could hear each individual demon that lurked within the fog. Our numbers were closely matched. Yet, if this was going to be more than a horrendous bloodbath, I had to arm my warriors. I raised one hand, palm out.

  To some he granted the form of the lion …

  Alarmed shrieks rang out as about half the crowd fell to their knees, overtaken by their new feline forms. Beside me, Caleb’s back arched. Rowan’s ears elongated. Fur sprouted. Teeth gnashed. The process lasted a seemingly endless minute, but the results left me breathless. Two lions bookended me. One a symphony of ebony that flipped his head and roared into the darkening sky. The other was as white as a freshly fallen snow. His muzzle curled in a menacing snarl despite his beautiful appearance. Before us awaited a newly formed pride, of which Grams was a proud member. She was easily recognizable by her greying muzzle and bright pink polish on her claws that had somehow survived the transition. Gabe morphed along with them and threw his head back in a mighty roar that cut through the chaos to firmly assert his dominance. The ground trembled beneath my feet as the rest of the pride joined in chorus.

  My other hand rose.

  … to the others the essence of the eagle.

  Fabric tore. Majestic wings of various shades of ivory, mahogany, and gold sprouted from the next generation of Protectors. Wind whipped and whistled, blowing stray strands of hair in my eyes, as our shields took to the air in an introductory flight. Kendall lifted off the ground and buzzed around her flock to rally them into a tight formation.

  The echo of footfalls drummed through Main Street, drawing our enemies closer with each step. Yet my soldiers didn’t flinch or falter. Demons, lions, and pseudo-angels alike turned with eager anticipation.

  “Tonight, we take back our town!” I bellowed and stabbed my fist into the air.

  Six simple words. That’s all it took for all hell to break loose.

  Chapter 26

  A high-pitched screech cut through the night. The twins stretched and elongated into their menacing lizard form. Their wide wing span beat the air as they soared to intercept an incoming—slightly smaller—flying lizard. The two scaled beasts slammed into each other mid-flight and rolled across the sky in an explosion of violent fury.

  The Dark Army descended, bringing with them every horned, scaled, and shifting baddie they could spare. Our own forces charged to meet them. Flames arced through the air. Bodies met in brutal hand to hand—or in some cases spike to barb—combat. Eddie yanked his sleeves up his arms and released an onslaught of spikes. Incoming demons dodged and weaved, not all successfully. A Titan of air, with its ominous shadow presence, took a dart to the jugular and sloshed the ground with its black tarry remnants. Sherman—aka Boil Face—swelled into his loose-fit skin. He towered over the masses, his clothes shredding with his rapid two-story expansion. I had no idea how his stretchy diaper contraption stayed on, but I said a silent prayer of thanks for it. He let loose an air-horn blast bellow then lunged forward. The ground shook each time his gigantic feet connected with the pavement. Mid-stride, he hooked one hand on the bumper of an abandoned Honda and whipped it through the air, taking out an entire pack of shifter panthers with a little well-timed vehicular destruction.

  The head-way he bought us provided the perfect opportunity for our second string. Gabe reared up on his hind legs, his claws tearing at the air as he rumbled a thunderous roar. Immediately the lions broke into small hunting parties of roughly six snarling jungle cats. In tight formations they stalked until a target was picked. Forceful positioning allowed them to push their selected demon away from the group. Then they pounced. Our winged avengers hovered overhead, shielding the cats from demonic interventions of the lethal kind. The only lions not on the prowl stood beside me. Caleb and Rowan kept any nearing threats at bay with a vicious swipe of their flesh shredding claws.

  Hot smoke swelled and churned between the buildings that lined Main Street, turning our battle scene into a pressure cooker. From within the heavy smog came the Titans—pure bred demons with power over the elements. The fire Titan could be thanked for the sudden climate change. Fins, belonging to water Titans, cut through the melee in an ominous warning. Nearby, Trent wrestled with a man-sized frog beast. The frog’s wide mouth opened to allow its poisonous tongue to lull out. Before that spongy appendage could make contact, Trent released the spikes that ran down his arms and across his shoulders and threw an elbow into the beast. As the frog dissipated into goo, Trent stumbled forward with leftover momentum … right into the path of a Great White on two legs. The shark’s snout nudged the linebacker. Smelling. Testing. Trent tried to backpedal, but it was too late. The shark’s eyes rolled back and it lunged. Razor sharp teeth tore a hole in Trent’s mid-section. Black blood spurted out in a wide arc, raining the pavement with fat splotches. The metallic scent filled the air, sending the remaining sharks into a crazed frenzy. Trent’s screams faded as he disappeared in a blur of scales, teeth, and blood.

  Adrenaline thumped in my ears. Every cell of my being itched to leap from the stairs and sprint to Trent’s aid. But it was too late. There was no saving Trent and this wasn’t my fight. My role this time was on the sidelines, powering my troops through the energy that flowed through me. The true definition of a conduit. Hate it as I might, I had to stay put.

  My internal retrospect was interrupted when a sharp yelp rang out. A shocked gasp snuck from my parted lips as I found its source. Chunks of shredded flesh hung from the neck of a young lion that stumbled my way with wide, frightened eye
s. Blood gushed from the gaping wound. The lion’s waning consciousness gave and the ground rose to meet him. A pretty chestnut-haired cheerleader landed beside him, already glowing with her healing warmth. Wings, that had ripped their way from the back of her blue and white cheer vest, curled around them both as she attempted to coax him from death’s waiting room. Yet inexperience betrayed her. She needed to move him. They were too vulnerable there. A fact I tried to holler out to her, but my shouts were gobbled up by the hungry roar of battle. A vile little hob-goblin saw the opportunity first. On crusty, scabbed feet it scurried over to sink its teeth into the cheerleader’s toned calf. Her back arched and wings snapped out behind her as she screamed in pain. That instinctive twitch knocked the hob-goblin off and sent it rolling across the ground. As soon as it skidded to a stop, the knee-high terror popped up and scampered back—jaws snapping—for another taste. Mid-scuttle, the hob-goblin was intercepted by the midsection of a furry hide. The Grams-lioness, in her snazzy pink polish, galloped to the teens’ aid with her hunting party close behind. One fatal swipe and the mini-goblin no longer had to concern itself with migraines or bad-hair days again. As the goblin’s head rolled to a stop and popped in a glop of ickiness, the cats moved with feline fluidity to form a tight circle around the frightened cheerleader. The caramel-skinned beauty took advantage of their protection. Long hair fell forward in a glossy curtain as she bowed her head and cocooned herself in ivory to heal her wound.

  Overhead—a flash of pink. Keni’s Converse covered toes pointed in toe-shoe perfection as she hovered overhead and began the slow descent inside the lions’ circle. I guessed her goal to be aiding the fallen cat, but the small black projectile that screamed through the air and impaled in her thigh prevented that. Her lean frame shuddered. Feathers melted to flesh. Wings vanished as if they’d never been. From two-stories up she hurtled toward the ground, robbed of her abilities by the dart of a reversal demon.