John couldn’t see much of anything, but he aimed for dead center mass because of how effective the shots he had taken there had been. “What are you? What do you want from me?”
The beast’s laughter broke him from his reverie. Its movements began to slow. “You do not know, Derackson? How can you not know?” It growled out a curse and dug its claws into the floor.
“You die now!” John yelled. He thrust the muzzle forward, angry that this thing could find anything to laugh about at this moment. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“It is in your blood.” It gagged in the dark, probably choking on its own bodily fluids. “You were thinking right. It’s in your blood.”
John was horrified. Did this thing read my mind? He clamped his jaw shut in rage and, furious, yanked on the trigger one last time.
In the aftermath of the explosion, all was finally still. He had overcome the monster. His ears were ringing and he was drenched in his own sweat. As his system dumped excess adrenaline into his bloodstream, he began to shake violently.
There in the hallway of his house, right outside his daughter’s bedroom door, in a cloud of cordite, among fumes that reeked of rotten egg, he crumpled to the floor and began to weep.
And than the power came back on.
When his eyes had adjusted to the brightness, he practically leaped out of his skin trying to get away from what he saw. The house was quiet, but he forced himself to go after the other one.
He had to make sure it was dead. No rest for the wicked.
* * *
Elsewhere
I CAME BACK TO myself in a high meadow surrounded by wildflowers. At first, I didn’t recognize where I was.
There was a great ring in the wild grass, a path made by walking. That much I recognized from dreams I’d had. But I didn’t recognize what I saw next.
At the center of the ring stood a beautiful complex of buildings, all of them brand new and gleaming under silvery tiled roofs, the walls made of white stones that were a little translucent, a little luminescent.
I entered the buildings and explored them for what felt like sometimes, and then I came upon a great big open room. It was an atrium closed in by a dome of crystal glass at least a hundred feet across and three stories tall. The sun poured in through it and ran wild over ferns and shrubs and trees. Hummingbirds flitted from flower to flower, and as I looked up, smiling, I saw it.
The round window, high above, now not just a naked hole but a beautifully adorned sheet of stained glass, changed my perspective for me. These were the ruins of my life? Now they were whole and new, magnificent in every way.
As in a dream, I rose up on nothing and stood in the air before the round window and beheld the glowing, colorful image portrayed in it. A flying woman trailing a streak of blue light held a sword in both hands. She was dressed in pure white and darkness fled from her far below, at the bottom of the circle. The sword she carried was adorned with a great shimmering diamond at the hilt.
The sword was unique, but it wasn’t quite the Sword of Light. I knew that Sword well—it didn’t have a massive diamond studding the hilt like this one did.
Still, though, I knew who the woman was.
It was me.
CHAPTER X
Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho, Present Day
“YOU CANNOT CRUSH IT, break it, or trick it into going away,” Kreios said. “The Bloodstone is not of this world, Michael—it must be sent back if it is to be overcome.” Kreios paced in front of the fire, unsure if the boy had what it took to go on, to withstand the Bloodstone.
“What do you suggest?” Michael was tired, frustrated, and it showed on his face. They’d been at it for hours and come up with no better plan than to have Michael surreptitiously take the oath of the Seer and destroy the Brotherhood from within. But that was fraught with problems, one being that Michael had to live as the Seer and somehow keep himself from being overtaken by the most powerful form of evil in creation.
“What if we . . .” Kreios spoke aloud. It was a passing thought, but it might work.
“What if what? Kreios, what are you thinking?”
Kreios rushed into his study and rummaged through his books and scrolls. “Where are you hiding?” he muttered under his breath. Finding the right one, he returned to Michael.
“Are you going to share or keep all the good stuff to yourself?” Michael seemed to be in better spirits, and Kreios was glad for the distraction.
“This is a book covering the history of death, the grave, and Hades. It talks of the afterlife of the foulest, of the undead.”
“And how does that help us? Are you planning on going there?”
Kreios held up a finger and paused, thinking. “You may be on to something, and if I am right, I think I found a way to get rid of the Bloodstone for good.” Kreios permitted himself a modest half grin, but it disappeared when the earth began to tremble. Like a firebeast of ancient times about to break forth beneath the mountains, he could feel the thin place on which his house had been built beginning to change.
Michael sat up. “What’s wrong? You have a funny look on your face.”
“Do you not feel the earth groan?”
Michael knit his brows together. “No. I don’t feel the earth groaning. What’s going on?”
“I am not sure.” Kreios went to the bookshelf on the far wall, slid a wooden panel aside, and turned on the display that was hidden there.
Michael whistled. “I see you did keep the cool stuff to yourself.”
CNN flashed a banner across the bottom of the screen, and the announcer—a woman with a perfect complexion and long, dark hair—read her notes with a practiced voice.
“An earthquake surpassing a magnitude of twenty on the Richter scale that has occurred in the Pacific Ocean is predicted to set off a series of events such as we have never before seen in the recorded history of mankind. The series of tsunamis over the next few days may, in fact, be global. The president has declared a state of emergency. Everyone in the flood zones is encouraged to stay calm. We urge you not to panic.”
The broadcast cut to a map of the world with large areas in red marked as the flood zones. Michael swore.
Kreios muttered a prayer to El. Many millions would die. “We are running out of time.”
CHAPTER XI
Arabia, 788 B.C.
KREIOS WAS FORCED TO look on from a distance as his brother Zedkiel was beheaded by a tusked demon in the darkest shadows. He descended vengeance at the leading edge of his mind. The shadow of a figure took up his kinsman’s sword and stole away.
Kreios touched down near Zedkiel’s body. The tusked monster snorted at him, obviously unsure what to do next. Kreios made up its mind for it. He roared in anger at the tusked vermin, daring it to come try him. It ran off, searching for easier prey.
Kreios breathed, eyes wide as he knelt at Zedkiel’s place of mortality.
He was gone.
The angel wept looking around for someone to kill.
* * *
QUIEL ARRIVED AT KE’ELEI via the horseshoe-shaped mountaintops that overlooked it. The battle below was a pitiful sight. What angelic forces had managed to muster themselves was no match for the legions of the Brotherhood arrayed against them. Those who belonged to El badly needed an equalizing force, something to give them half a chance.
Qiel thought about the liar Anael.
Qiel sought recompense more than anything else. He held out hope that his mother was not dead. It wasn’t a simple revenge that he wanted most. It was more complicated than that because while he hated Anael for taking her from him, he reserved some of that hatred for Uriel herself. She had not kept him from the worst evil he had ever known, and yet she had kept him from any usable warning about it. Why did you allow this to happen to me, Mother? Why? He had never felt so unsupported and isolated.
But these thoughts dissipated quickly, and then he beheld the storm of red lightning in the valley below. His eyes told a corner’s worth of the
story, and instinct illuminated for him the rest of the page.
That is Anael. His hour has come.
Qiel knew how dangerous it was to allow these thoughts to inch past the gates of his mind, but his heart couldn’t bear the torture any longer. He, therefore, released his thoughts into fury, unlocking those gates, throwing them open wide. He roared stirring his gift into thunder and flood.
Now would come monsters.
And real terror.
* * *
Elsewhere
MY DREAMS CONTINUED AS I moved in the far corners of my consciousness—or whatever it was I was doing. I walked along the seashore. I could see an expanse of colorful sands, the surf pounding along the boundary on one side, lush forests rising upward on the other.
“She?”
“Airel.”
I had so many questions. I blurted them all out in my mind by the thousands in an instant. “Was that place—the ruins?”
“They are just a glimpse of your life.”
I wondered what that was supposed to mean. “My life?” I asked, but there was only silence as I walked along the shore. My life was over, as far as I knew. But how did it get rebuilt? And what does it mean?
“These are but symbols for now, Airel. Do not stumble over their meanings. The real question is, do you know why you’re here?”
“I don’t even know where here is,” I said.
“You’ve always known, girl.” She sounded a bit like my father, a bit like Kreios. “You don’t need me to tell you you’re different.”
Yeah, I thought. It’s my curse.
“You did well enough.”
“How?” I asked. “I was a total screwup. I never did anything with my life. I never became anyone important. I was always just putting out fires, reacting to the latest crisis or injury.” I looked down and stopped. “I never did anything with my life.”
“You did do something magnificent, though.”
I began to cry. “What are you talking about? I lived a train of disasters. I fell hard for the worst boyfriend in history, the ultimate bad boy.” I didn’t want to admit that even now, I still loved Michael. “And it’s because of me that Kim died.” I stopped talking then.
“You’re funny.”
“How?”
“Because despite how vehemently you rail against people who judge you by what they see, you’re doing the exact same thing to yourself.”
I was silent.
“I can see your heart, though, Airel. And I see greatness. I saw how you were able to forgive Michael sincerely, even as the piercing fire of his betrayal still scalded your heart. And you continued to love him afterward, even though he was the source of so much pain. I saw how you loved Kim despite her behavior at the end of her life. You loved unconditionally, Airel. These are the things that matter.”
“Why?”
“You did what matters,” She said. “And what you did—matters.”
I thought of Kim, Michael, my parents . . . and felt that not much of my life really mattered. But maybe that was what this dream was about—a way to process how I felt about who I was. Maybe this was my life flashing before my eyes.
CHAPTER XII
Glasgow, Scotland, Present Day
VALAC WORE FADED JEANS and an untucked white button-up shirt. He rode silently in the elevator, and when the doors opened, a beautiful woman in heels and a short skirt met him. Short enough to say things about her.
“Mr. Weston is expecting you. Follow me, please.”
“My pleasure,” Valac said as he licked his lips. He was a sensual being, and his time with Airel had awakened some of his buried desires.
Two tall solid wood doors opened as they approached. The woman stepped aside and he smiled as he looked her up and down. “My dear, won’t you be joining us?”
“No,” she said with a wicked smile.
“My heart breaks at this,” Valac said, taking her hand and caressing it, looking her over once more as if he were shopping for snacks. “Maybe you can put me back together later tonight, at my hotel?” He did not wait for her answer. He stepped directly into a huge office yawning open before him. It took half the floor. The doors closed behind him before his host said a word.
“Valac. You come with good news, I hope.” Jordan was standing beside his desk dressed impeccably, as usual. It‘s nice to see another man with taste.
“Airel is out of the picture.” Valac smiled.
Jordan pursed his lips and nodded as he sipped water—or vodka—from a crystal glass. “I believe you have your reward, then. You did take her abilities?” Jordan pulled out his chair and sat behind his desk, smoking a small cigar.
“It does not work like that, Jiki. And we had a deal,” Valac said, walking to the bank of windows and looking out at Glasgow through the beads of rain on the glass. “You wouldn’t be foolish enough to think of betraying me, would you?”
“You completed half your mission. Her father yet lives.”
Valac made a fist and ground his teeth together. “You change the terms once again, a fact I’m going to allow one last time.” Valac turned to face him. “I tell you, if you ever send another team in front of me—”
“I had to be sure. Calm yourself. Airel is a powerful half-breed, and it pays to be careful in this line of work.”
“It was a mistake not to trust me.”
Jordan snorted. “I trust no one.” He stood putting down his cigar and blowing a ring of smoke. “The Alexander is fighting his true calling, and my sources have found a link to the Other.”
Valac had heard the rumors of the Other, the one who was in line to be Seer before the Alexander. He didn’t really care, but it was interesting that Airel’s father would be somehow involved. “What does he have to do with the Other?”
“He may know his identity—it could be lost somewhere in his mind. Blood never lies, Valac.”
Valac grew tired of this conversation. “As much as I would love to talk of the Seer, blood, and even who might win the Super Bowl,” he said, looking toward the doors, “I have a date with Miss Legs-for-days out there tonight and I need a nap first. If you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.”
Jordan smiled. “I will pay you, of course. And I have a new job you may be interested in.” He held up a slip of paper and Valac took it. “I will double your price, but he must go willingly.”
Valac read the note and nodded. “Payment first. What you owe me plus the full amount, up front, for this one.”
Jordan shrugged. “Agreed.”
“Now, tell me your secretary is single.”
“Does it matter?”
Valac smirked. “No, I guess not.”
“Just don’t eat her.”
“You take the fun out of everything.”
“I enjoy her too,” Jordan said, “but in different ways. I want to keep her around a while longer.”
Valac sighed. “Will you allow me at least a finger? Maybe two?”
* * *
Elsewhere
I BECAME AWARE OF the room my body was in. There came to my ears the sound of machines pumping. I felt tubes running down my throat and saw my mom withering away next to me. She was there, but her eyes were empty and void.
Michael didn’t come back. Is he gone forever? Where’s Ellie—where’s Kim? Then I remembered her funeral, the rain, and my tears.
My heart was awake for the first time since my return to Boise. I had been pushing everyone in my life away. Maybe my dreams were the lifeline, the reason I lay here in a coma. I was supposed to realize something crucial. I didn’t feel complete. There was still something I was supposed to see—learn.
Like most dreams, when I woke I had a hard time remembering exactly what had happened. It was more feeling than memory. There was a small stone house, a book—but not my Book. It was The Book. She talked to me as if she were a real person, standing beside me in the form of a little girl.
I saw my story overlaid with hers. “I am in every part of your life, Airel. I
love you, and your mistakes and triumphs are mine too.”
I still didn’t understand what it all meant. What am I supposed to see?
I saw the earth made of ink, the people of paper. All were born and plunged into the blackness, but not all had to remain living in the darkness.
I felt as if I’d been walking the earth as a ghost ever since Stanley had plunged his sword into my heart. I was out of order; my life was artificial.
But how . . .?
“Your Book, as is the same with all the Books, was never intended to be used as anything other than to tell the unflinching story of your life, warts and all. That is why it is so dangerous, so powerful. But when Michael wrote in it, he changed the proper order.”
I thought about this. You mean that when he wrote in my Book, he overruled the story in The Book?
“Michael’s actions changed everything, Airel.”
You mean nothing I lived was real?
“Tell me, if reality is an illusion, how real can it be? Michael took something from you that you hadn’t offered to him. And yet you did not resist. Not even then.”
I wanted to weep. Was none of it real?
“Oh, it was very real. That is why the consequences will be so heavy.”
This is why I’m here. This was why everything was falling apart. I was supposed to die that day. Drown. What Michael had done, he did in his grief, out of love, but he set things in motion no one could have predicted.
What do I do?
“Forgive.”
I don’t understand.
“Forgive him, forgive yourself; stop letting the past rule over you. This is why you are here, Airel. To let go of the things that hold you back so when the time comes, you can do what you were born to do.”
CHAPTER XIII
Amsterdam, Present Day
JOHN CROSS MANAGED TO bribe his way onto an international flight to Europe. That had been too expensive, leaving him cash poor and not sure how he was going to get to Dubai. He sat in the terminal at Schiphol in Amsterdam, nursing a migraine from the cigarette smoke, and frustrated to be in this position. Dubai was one of the last fully functional urban centers in the world, and the only contact he still trusted lived in Dubai.
The Airel Saga Box Set: Young Adult Paranormal Romance Page 81
