He pressed the end button and leaned back in his chair. The London contingent should already be on a plane to New York, as well as most of the other European and Asian members. It was possible that Australia had already arrived.
Darian pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and rifled through several folders. Tucking a black file folder under his arm, he walked out into the reception area. The low buzz of conversation subsided, and several scouts turned his way.
“The conference room,” Darian said and headed that way, knowing they would follow.
He tossed the folder on the table and counted heads as they entered. He was missing two of his scouts. Hopefully, they would arrive soon. There wasn’t much time to wait. So, Darian opened the folder and spread several pages on the table in front of him.
“These are floor plans of the United Nations building,” he said. “I want eight of us spread out in the general assembly area. The others will be at the exits to that room or the exits to the building itself.” He pushed the pile towards his scouts and they took turns looking over them. “Eva and Stephen will be at the main entrance until everyone arrives. I want Claud and Pete at the security checkpoint at the main door. When they close down the security checkpoint, the four of you make a circuit through the halls until you reach the assembly room. Fran and Ali will be at the assembly hall exits.”
“Do we know the threat we’re facing?” Stephen asked. “Will it the be Csökkent, or will an army of demons overtake the building?”
“We don’t know,” Darian replied. “We’re not even sure the delegates will be a target.” He stood and rolled his shoulders back. “For those who don’t know, Orin and Victoria have been summoned by Zar’Asur.”
Several intakes of breath rolled around the table. No one liked that thought. The scouts had spent several years interacting with Orin and using his resources to hunt for rogue necrolords. They understood the threat the half-demon represented, even if his human side had been pleasant enough.
“If they are commanded to attack the UN,” he paused, unable to think about the deaths that would ensue.
“Are they really that powerful together?” Fran asked, the disbelief obvious in her voice. “We’ve only ever seen Orin’s strength, which is considerable.”
“According to Trent, Orin was the most powerful Csökkent of his time. The merger with his demon enhanced that strength, which we’ve witnessed in the past.” Darian leaned over and placed both hands on the table in front of him. “Raphael was giddy with excitement over the power he saw surrounding the half-demon. Victoria’s aura was only slightly more subdued than Orin’s. Now, imagine them together in a building full of people who have no idea magic exists, much less demons who can wield it.”
“And how are we supposed to stop them?” Stephen asked. “Orin sees through our concealment.”
“No, Orin sees through mine and yours,” Darian answered, nodding at Stephen. “We create ours in a similar fashion. I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t see Eva or Claud as they use the shadow to hide themselves. Which is why I want them at the entrance. Hopefully, they can immobilize the two until the rest of us arrive.”
“You believe we’ll be able to kill the two half-demons?” Claud asked.
“If we can surprise them, maybe,” Darian replied, shrugging. “But if they suspect our attack, no. We’ll need to focus on distracting them while the humans evacuate the building. Adalina and her warriors will be in the street outside waiting to assist.”
He looked around the table at his scouts. Each one was from a different country, thrown into the Council of Light because of a tragic event that revealed their ability. He was grateful for all of them and trusted them with his life. The last thing he wanted was to see them hurt or killed. He’d already been through that once. Once was enough.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
The room fell silent as they returned his stare.
Darian turned to a large, white-washed cabinet covering the entire wall. He pulled open the first door on the right side and pressed a recessed lever in the back. A soft click preempted the movement of two seven-foot-tall panels sliding out from the center of the row of cabinets. Darian pulled the first toward him and shelving three feet deep emerged with it. Knives and swords of every type imaginable hung on wooden pegs strategically placed throughout the space. The panel next to it was almost identical, except it contained handguns, rifles, shotguns, semi-automatics and shelves of ammunition.
“Pick your weapons,” Darian said, stepping away from the mini arsenal. “Then, try to get some sleep. We’ll meet here in ten hours.”
Chapter 7
Darian
Rather than hover over his scouts as they prepared for battle, Darian teleported to his estate just south of Munich, Germany. He arrived in his bedroom and breathed in the familiar smell of polished wood and fresh linens. He was rarely there, but the housekeeper insisted on washing the bed clothes regularly. The only staff at his home were the housekeeper and butler, along with both of their families. All he asked of them was to keep the three thousand square-foot home and one-hundred-acre estate in good repair. They lived there for free, and Darian gave them a modest salary for their work.
When the demons killed his parents two hundred years ago, he’d made a promise to himself that he would keep his father’s estate. The assault on his hometown was the catalyst that changed his entire life. Memories from that time flooded his mind, and he shook his head. He needed to stay focused on current events, not the past.
He left his bedroom in search of the butler. He found the middle-aged man in the kitchen with the housekeeper and their families, enjoying the evening meal. Darian suggested they use the formal dining room several times, but they insisted they were comfortable in the kitchen.
“Master Darian, please join us,” he said as Darian entered the room.
“I’m afraid I can only stay for a few minutes, Gus,” Darian replied. “I’m truly sorry to interrupt your meal, but I need to speak to you.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Gus said, then turned to his family and smiled. “I’ll be right back. You better save me some dessert.”
The youngest child giggled. She couldn’t have been more than four years old.
Darian made his way to his father’s study. He still couldn’t call it his own. His father’s desk sat beside the large bay window, and the built-in bookcase still held all his books. Most of the old tomes hadn’t been moved in years. The housekeeper dusted around them, but not even Darian had taken them from the shelves. It was all he had left of the man who raised him.
The butler’s soft footfalls interrupted Darian’s thoughts, and he turned towards the man.
“What is it, sir?” Gus asked.
“Is the storm cellar stocked?” Darian ran his fingers along the corner of the desk.
“Yes, of course,” Gus replied. He frowned deeply and clasped his hands tightly in front of him. “We rotate the stock monthly to ensure everything remains fresh.”
“If there is an attack in the next few days,” Darian began, watching the man’s features. “Collect as many people as you can, and retreat to the cellars. Do not fight what is coming.”
The butler’s eyebrows rose. “My lord, what’s coming?”
“I fear it is our worst nightmare. Promise me you will take as many as you can and hide.”
“I promise,” Gus replied. “Where will you be? Will you be safe?”
“Not likely.” Darian smiled sadly. “I’ll do my best to stay alive, though. There are too many people depending on me to allow myself to get killed.”
“I pray we see each other again soon, my lord.” The butler bowed, but Darian caught the furrow between his brows.
“So do I,” Darian replied. “I’ve kept you long enough. Return to your family, and stay safe.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Darian remained in the study for nearly an hour, trying to organize his thoughts and the few scraps of informatio
n they had. Maybe it really was a terrorist group and not the Overlord. Could they be overreacting? Were they assuming too much? Aneera hadn’t had a vision in years, not since Seraphina’s birth. She always knew when the Csökkent summoned the monsters that plagued the world. But why would Zar’Asur leave Orin and Victoria alone until now, unless he intended to use them? Why summon them after all these years?
Darian had no answers. He took one last look at one of his favorite places, then teleported to the pasture behind Seraphina’s home.
His phone buzzed as soon as he arrived and he moved into the nearby trees.
“Tell me you have good news,” Darian said.
“Nope.” Kreig’s voice sounded tired and harsh. “We just got off the plane and are headed to the hotel. Security at the airport is crazy right now. The delegates are a nervous wreck, and no one’s been able to track the threat.” His voice was muffled for several moments as if he placed his hand over the phone to speak to someone else. “Any news on your end?”
“Nothing definitive,” Darian replied. “We’ll be at the UN building just in case.”
“I’ve got a really bad feeling, Darian.”
“Me, too. Be safe, Kreig.” He paused. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Their connection ended, and Darian sighed. He emerged from the trees and pulled his concealment around his body. He watched the house as he skirted the fence line, knowing that Seraphina and her husband, Andrew, would be eating lunch or just finished. They always had an early afternoon meal because Andrew left for work at two o’clock each day. As he neared the house, he saw them sitting on the west side of the porch, the sun reaching for the mountains. The cool spring air carried the smell of fresh coffee towards him, and he saw steam rising from mugs in their hands.
“I think you should come with us, Sara,” Andrew said. “When was the last time you were at the beach?”
“Let’s see,” Sara replied, “three years ago, and we had to pay Weasel five-hundred dollars to feed the horses.”
“But it was worth it,” Andrew insisted.
Darian watched a smile slide across her face, and he knew a barrage of sarcasm was imminent. He leaned against the tree behind him and smiled.
“Oh, yes! Watching a bunch of old men with pot bellies and farmer’s tans fall off their surfboards was hysterical. You guys should’ve gotten paid for the entertainment.”
She set her coffee cup on a wicker table and rubbed her chest. Darian straightened and almost left, but Andrew continued the conversation as if he didn’t notice her discomfort.
“I’m not old,” he argued. “I’m just a little seasoned.”
He grinned at his wife, and she returned his smile. He reached for her hand, the one hovering just below her neck, and took it in his.
“Get that looked at while I’m gone,” he said, his blond eyebrows furrowing. “It’s too high to be your heart, but acid reflux is serious and very treatable.”
“I will, I promise,” she replied, smiling gently. “Will you come home before going to the airport tomorrow, or are you going straight from work?”
“Probably straight from work,” Andrew said, still holding her hand. “I’ve only got three hours between the end of my shift and the plane taking off. I think I’d rather wait at the airport than take a chance of missing my flight.”
“Good idea.”
Darian’s stomach rolled. She would be alone if the demons attacked. Andrew wasn’t a fighter, but he would do everything he could to protect her. His thoughts wandered back to the note Stephen found at the Citadel; it was still in his pocket. Did Zar’Asur know where Seraphina was? He had to assume so. Could he spare one of his scouts to watch her home? If he knew for certain that the UN meeting wasn’t at risk, he would have one of them stay.
Indecision rolled through him as he watched his Sentinel rise from her wicker rocker and go inside, rubbing her chest once again. He now regretted each time he stepped back from taking Seraphina. The Council needed the strength of the Watcher and Sentinel bond, and Darian failed them.
Even as he teleported back to Chicago to collect his weapons and prepare for the coming battle, the burn in Darian’s chest didn’t subside.
Chapter 8
Mikel
Mikel stared at the white marble statue in front of him. Water sprayed from the open beak of a stone dove with its head pointed towards the heavens. As the water fell back towards the pool, it cascaded down the bird’s outstretched wings. The soft trickle soothed his nerves but didn’t stop the barrage of questions running through his mind.
They’d missed something, that much was obvious. Everything the Overlord did had meaning, always. Mikel could almost list the number of events he should have seen coming but had failed to anticipate over the last four centuries. Each time, the Council had suffered great losses. He knew this would be no different, but how could he soften the blow?
“Darian’s design is much better than the fountain it replaced,” Aneera’s soft voice whispered in his ear as she sat next to him on the marble bench.
“I agree.” He reached over and grasped her hand, threading her fingers through his own. Are we overreacting, Aneera?” he asked her. “Surely you would have seen Zar’Asur summoning the demons, wouldn’t you?”
He turned towards her and looked into her deep brown eyes. He tried to hide his insecurity from everyone else, but she knew his heart. The bond between them did so much more than just connect their magic. It connected their hearts and minds, too.
“I’m not sure, Mikel,” she replied, staring back at him. “I think Raphael may be right. I’m grateful for the veil of protection on my mind, but it could be blocking some of my sight. The only vision I’ve had is Seraphina’s birth.”
“Should we ask Raphael to remove it?” Mikel reached up with his free hand and twisted his fingers around a loose strand of her long black hair.
“I’ve thought about it, but the Overlords know what a mass summoning will do to me.” She looked over at the fountain before continuing. “I don’t want to take the chance of being lost again.”
“And I don’t want to lose you,” Mikel replied softly. He let his hand fall, allowing the strand of hair to slip through his fingers. “How did we miss this? Did we get complacent?”
“Nothing has happened yet. It’s possible that nothing will happen,” she replied. “We’ve done what we can to prepare. All we can do now is wait and see.”
He frowned and looked at their intertwined fingers. Nothing good had ever come from being reactionary. “I’m going with Adalina’s team to New York.”
“I think you should.” She stood and tugged at him until he rose with her. “Evening is quickly approaching. You should get ready.”
She kissed his cheek and released his hand, and Mikel watched her walk away. Her petite frame, coupled with her small, round face belied her inner strength. She was right; it was time to prepare. With one last glance at the dove’s fountain, he headed to his office in the tower.
Mikel startled awake hours later. He rubbed the back of his neck and moaned. He’d apparently fallen asleep leaning back in his office chair with his feet on the desk. He rarely needed sleep and was surprised it had taken him.
He dropped his feet to the floor and listened to the breeze flutter through the windows. Something must have awakened him, but he wasn’t sure what. As he stood and stretched his arms towards the ceiling, his office door burst open.
“Aneera’s had a vision.” Donielle, one of Magdelin’s healers, gasped, trying to catch her breath. “It’s been thirty minutes, and she’s still unconscious.”
Now wide awake, Mikel rushed from office, pushing past the portly woman and down the spiraled staircase. Within minutes, he was in Aneera’s home with Magdelin at his side.
“Has she said anything?” he asked.
“Nothing coherent,” Magdelin replied. “But she has not been quiet.”
A gargled scream erupted from the Seer’s throat, making Mikel jump.
“I think we have to assume that they’re summoning a large number of demons,” Magdelin continued.
“What time is it?” Mikel asked, his voice rising with concern.
“Ten in the morning,” Magdelin replied.
“My God!” Mikel exclaimed. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” He didn’t wait for a reply as he headed for the door. It wasn’t Magdelin’s job to keep track of his schedule. “Has Adalina already left?”
“Yes, they left hours ago. I’m sorry, Mikel. I didn’t know you were going with them.”
He was already out the door and running across the courtyard towards the tower, berating himself for falling asleep, today of all days. He sprinted up the stairs and threw open the door to his office. He quickly changed his clothes, then teleported to the New York subway station closest to the United Nations building.
Chapter 9
Darian
Darian hovered in the shadows of an alcove behind the seating in the assembly hall. All the delegates arrived safely, and Darian’s scouts had nothing irregular to report. They remained hidden in their assigned places throughout the room. Darian had arrived early enough to watch security scour every part of the building. They found nothing, and he began to wonder if he was just being paranoid.
The meeting started as planned and continued as Darian suspected it would. No one knew who was making threats or what the actual consequence would be if they ignored it. The hacker who sent the emails was still at large, and nobody wanted to turn over their countries.
Kreig stood behind his delegate on the opposite side of the room. His eyes darted back and forth, one hand constantly tapping the side of his leg.
Darian frowned, half-listening to the conversations going on around him while staring at his phone. It was on silent, so any incoming messages would have to be seen, not heard. Mikel’s name flashed across his screen and he tapped on the message.
“Aneera has had a vision that she didn’t awaken from.”
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