Stricken (The War Scrolls Book 1)

by A. K. Morgen

  Aubrey shifted around behind him as if trying to stand up. Killian hesitated for a moment, torn between watching the Elioud and helping her. When she moved a second time, Killian made his decision.

  “I’m going to help her stand,” he murmured to Tyrell.

  Tyrell dipped his furry head.

  Killian turned and strode back to Aubrey’s side.

  She was less pale—though, her hands still shook.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out for her. Only when she was in his arms, her back against his chest, did he breathe a little easier.

  “Is the other…was he…?”

  “No, he wasn’t one of theirs.”

  Her body sagged in his arms, a sigh of relief rushing from between her lips.

  He tightened his grip upon her to keep her upright.

  The Elioud watched their interaction from the shadows of the trees. Killian couldn’t catch many of their thoughts thanks to his weak Talent, but what he heard was more than enough. Surprise and distrust, but there was no outright shock, no instant flare of hatred. They weren’t happy to see him, but neither were they in the least surprised Aubrey had returned with a Fallen warrior at her side.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aubrey stood in the protective circle of Killian’s arms, allowing him to steady her with his hard body. She’d never been in a car accident before, especially not an intentional one. She felt a little like passing out. Or throwing up.

  The front end of the car was a crumpled ruin. Pieces of metal and plastic littered the roadway behind them. Blood and thicker fluids were smeared across the silver wreckage in grotesque streaks. And the shifter…well, she had no desire to look at him anytime soon. The one glimpse she’d caught of his mangled human body lying in the road had been more than enough.

  Instead, she focused on Tyrell. He’d grown in the last three years. He was no longer the small wolf she remembered. His fur was the same color, of course. And his eyes were the same. But he was as big as Aaron had been in wolf form. Bigger, perhaps.

  “Why isn’t he changing?” She whispered to Killian as Tyrell eyed them.

  “The leader doesn’t want him to,” Killian responded, his eyes still on Tyrell.

  “Oh.”

  The boys didn’t trust her. That stung more than she’d thought it would, more than she had a right to feel. She’d abandoned them. Disappeared for three years. Of course they were leery of her now.

  “I won’t hurt you,” she whispered to Tyrell.

  The wolf huffed.

  “It’s not you they don’t trust,” Killian said, tightening his arms around her. “It’s me.”

  She opened her mouth to tell Tyrell that Killian meant them no harm and then snapped it closed as the rest of her friends began to slip from the woods running the length of the old gravel road. They came from every side, massive shadows slinking from beneath the trees and stepping forward.

  It was a sight she had seen countless times before, but it was even more impressive to her now than it had been then. In wolf form, the Elioud ranged in color from an almost white to the same dark gray of the shifter Killian had run over. They ranged in size too. Some reached only her chest; others were nearly as tall as she or taller.

  There were fewer of them, though, only three aside from Tyrell. That hurt.

  Killian’s arms tensed and then loosened around her as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to scoop her up and hide her behind him or wait it out. Tension poured from him, but he planted his feet and stood his ground.

  A lone male figure loped out of the woods, dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans and loafers. Aubrey hadn’t seen Jason in three years, but she would have recognized him anywhere. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the last rays spilled across his face. His expression was more severe than she remembered. He hadn’t changed much at all, though. Same tall, muscular frame. Same tightly cropped hair. Same flawless, ebony complexion. Same everything.

  As the Elioud halted in a loose circle around them, Jason continued forward. His dark gaze roved over the wreckage, over the dead shifter, and then to Aubrey and Killian.

  She held her breath, terrified of what he might say to her.

  “Breathe,” Killian whispered in her ear as Jason stepped up beside Tyrell and halted.

  She sucked in a deep breath.

  “Hi,” she squeaked.

  “Aubrey.” Jason inclined his head in her direction before his eyes flickered to Killian. “St. James?” he asked.

  “Killian, yes.”

  Jason’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered through his eyes. Resignation, perhaps. He wasn’t surprised to see Killian. Maybe wasn’t even surprised to see the warrior’s arms around her.

  For a full ten count, no one said anything, and then Jason exhaled a long breath and nodded to the Elioud. The tension rippling around them vanished. They sat down as one. Breath came a little easier for Aubrey then. She knew they would never have relaxed even that much had they meant to hurt Killian. Funny how much that relieved her.

  “Why are you here, Aubrey?” Jason asked. “It’s not safe for you.”

  “There are more in the area, aren’t there?” Killian asked, as if he’d heard more than the words Jason spoke aloud.

  Jason’s dark, penetrating gaze shifted in his direction. “Not at the moment, but we’ve been killing them for weeks.”

  “None of you have become infected?”

  Tyrell whined low in his throat.

  Jason didn’t even glance in his direction. His gaze landed on Aubrey again, as grave and serious as ever. “Two.”

  “Who?” she mouthed.

  “Anthony. And Mark.”

  God, Anthony had been a kid when she’d left. He’d been younger than she, only thirteen. And Mark…Mark had been a pain in the ass, but he’d been her friend. They’d argued. They’d teased each other. And he’d always been half a step behind Aaron when she got herself into some trouble or another. Always there, trying to rescue her.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, bowing her head beneath the weight of grief.

  Tyrell whined softly, mourning with her.

  “I’m sorry,” Killian said. He had no connection to any of them, but he sounded as pained over their loss as she felt.

  “How?” she asked when she could speak, her voice thick with emotion.

  “We lost Anthony to a vampire a month ago. And Mark…” Grief washed through Jason’s eyes for a moment. He and Mark had always been close, like brothers. They had been the first of the boys to follow Aaron. “Mark was infected two weeks ago. He was bitten trying to fend off one of the infected.”

  Killian muttered something beneath his breath, too low for Aubrey to catch the words.

  “You know it’s the La Morte Nera virus?” he asked Jason.

  “Yes. We found out right before Anthony was infected. One of the Elioud in Ontario sent word about what was happening.” He bowed his head. “They’re gone now too.”

  Aubrey’s tears ran over and slipped soundlessly down her cheeks. There was so much death, so much destruction. And God only knew when it would end. If it would end. “We think my dad knew about the virus,” she whispered.

  Jason was silent for a moment before he nodded. “I know.”

  “You know?” She blinked, trying to see him through her tears. “How?”

  “Aubrey…” Jason sighed heavily.

  “He created it,” Killian said when Jason didn’t continue.

  Aubrey didn’t need Jason’s nod of confirmation. She saw the truth and regret in his eyes as he stared back at her. Her father was responsible for this. He was—

  Her stomach roiled and she leaned over, gagging.

  Killian muttered something and tried to grab her, but she pushed his hands away and sank to her knees in the gravel. Her stomach heaved, and her eyes burned as she vomited up everything she’d eaten that day.

  When she was finished, she wiped her hand across her mouth, refusing to open her eye
s. She didn’t want to see the pity in Jason’s expression or the sympathy in Tyrell’s. Mostly, though…she didn’t want to see the accusation in Killian’s.

  Her father had created the virus.

  Apparently, her heart hadn’t finished breaking after all.

  ***

  Aubrey remained on her knees until the sun sank fully behind the horizon, unable to muster the strength to face the Elioud or Killian. But she couldn’t avoid hearing the truth forever.

  “Why?” she said finally, lifting her head to look at Jason. The word was ragged, angry. Just like she felt. All these years, she’d thought she’d left this world behind. All these years, she’d thought this world had killed her dad and Aaron because of her.

  And she’d been wrong. All those whispered conversations. All those times her dad and Aaron had told her it was talk, simple curiosity. All the times Aaron had laughed and told her the virus wasn’t real. At their funeral when Jason had told her he didn’t know who had set the fire…

  It’d all been false. All lies.

  “Was I the only one who didn’t know?” she demanded, climbing unsteadily to her feet. Killian hovered around her, but she brushed him off once more, her eyes narrowed on Jason. “Is that what my dad meant when he told me you would need me? That I was the only one?” Her hands shook with anger as she glared at Jason.

  “I don’t know, Bree,” he said.

  “Don’t call me that!” She poked him in the chest, her anger boiling over. “I’m not her anymore, and you don’t get to call me that. You lied to me. You let me believe they died because of me!”

  Jason flinched at her words.

  “Aubrey,” Killian started.

  She ignored him. “Why did he do it?” she demanded, poking Jason again.

  “I don’t know,” he said, backing up half a step. “You know how he was, Aubrey. He thought if he could figure out how a virus like that would affect us, he could find a way to inoculate against it, make us immune.”

  “Us?” Aubrey asked sharply.

  Killian tensed behind her.

  Jason’s eyes darted to Killian and then back to her. “The Elioud.”

  “Why, Jason?” she asked, unwilling to accept half-truths.

  “He thought it would make a good weapon if it ever came down to it,” Jason answered, his tone rife with reluctance.

  “Against the demons?”

  “Them too.”

  For a minute, Aubrey stood in stunned silence. Her father had engineered the virus that had already killed thousands. He’d made it to be a weapon, and he’d done so intentionally.

  “Why?” she whispered, horrified.

  “Because he thought they were dangerous, and he was right.” Jason’s gaze flickered to Killian and then back to her. “They look out for themselves, Aubrey. When the time comes, they’ll chose their lives over ours.”

  “That’s not true! They saved my life.”

  “Maybe,” Jason said, “but who do you think created the Nephilim in the first place? The vampires and werewolves? They claim they stand between humanity and the demons, but that’s a lie. The Fallen unleashed all sorts of evil of this world, and they do nothing to end our suffering, instead standing by and letting their children hunt us down one by one. Then and only then do they react. They will always put their own kind first even if it means the destruction of humanity or the creation of monsters like the Nephilim who attacked you and those who bore us. That’s exactly why they were cast from Heaven.”

  Killian swore.

  Aubrey gaped, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. She’d never heard Jason speak with such hatred before. And it infuriated her that he could stand there now and say Killian was a monster when Killian was the one putting his life on the line to save her and people like Jason.

  “The Halfling who took you knew about the virus. He wanted it for himself.”

  Aubrey shook her head, unable to process that. It was too big, too heavy.

  “And when you got home…” Jason’s expression was stark in the little pool of light the rising moon provided. “You’d wake up screaming at night, begging him not to kill you. Your dad blamed himself for that, you know. Had he never created the virus, you would have been safe. That bastard wouldn’t have come for you.”

  Aubrey sucked in a ragged breath. All this time, she’d blamed herself for what happened to her dad and Aaron, but it hadn’t been her fault. Her dad had been the reason for everything…why she’d been attacked, why Aaron was dead. Why people like Killian were dying.

  “Your dad wanted to destroy the virus,” Jason continued, “but it was too late. The night before the fire, someone broke into the lab and stole the vials. By the time we found out, you were already at school for the day. Aaron sent the rest of us to track the thief, and he stayed behind to protect your dad. He was going to go to the lab, and Aaron wanted to make sure he was safe.”

  “Stop,” Aubrey said, throwing up a hand. She didn’t need to hear any more, not when she knew how the story ended. Her dad and Aaron never made it to the lab that day. Instead, they’d burned along with her childhood home. And she’d seen it. She’d watched her father take his last breath, and then she’d stumbled outside. She’d sat there until the fire trucks came, watching the house smolder with Aaron and her dad still inside.

  “We never caught him,” Jason said anyway. “We chased him all the way into Illinois. By the time we realized Aaron hadn’t checked in, it was too late.” He shook his head. “We didn’t know there were others lying in wait.”

  “You should have told me,” she mumbled. She felt numb. Numb and cold.

  “You were just a kid, Bree. You’d been tortured by a Halfling, and then you lost your brother and your dad. We promised Aaron we’d protect you. We couldn’t add to what you were already going through, especially not when you—” Jason shifted his weight uncomfortably.

  The others did too, bowing their heads as if they couldn’t look at her.

  Aubrey wanted to be angry at them. She wanted to scream that they’d known. All along they’d known why her dad and Aaron had died. All along they’d known that La Morte Nera was real. They’d always known, and they’d let her blame herself. But she couldn’t be angry at them for not telling her. Not when she was the one who’d packed her stuff and fled without so much as a good-bye.

  That didn’t mean she could forgive them, either. The last three years of her life, all the guilt and regret and self-loathing…all this time, they’d been keeping secrets from her. Worse, they’d known about La Morte Nera and they’d never even tried to stop it. They’d never tried to find her to tell her the truth, or tell the Fallen about the virus and what it could do. Thousands had died because of their silence. Thousands more still could die.

  “How could you do this? How could he?” she whispered, her heart physically hurting.

  “I’m sorry,” Jason said. “He never meant for it to be released like this. None of us did.”

  “Yeah, well, it was.” Aubrey turned away, unable to face any of them any longer. “Take me back to the hotel, Killian,” she whispered, trying hard not to cry.

  “Aubrey—”

  “Please.” Her gaze met his, pleading. “Please, Killian. Get me out of here.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “How is she?” Abriel asked as soon as Killian stepped inside his brothers’ room.

  Killian shook his head, not sure how to answer that question. Aubrey hadn’t spoken at all since they’d returned from talking to her friend Jason. Not a single word. She’d sat on the bed, staring at the wall with her hellcat in her lap.

  Not even the virus made him feel as helpless as watching her like that did. He was going crazy waiting for her to say anything. Waiting for her to acknowledge him. He felt like a coward for leaving her alone, but he hadn’t been able to sit there feeling helpless any longer. His mate was drowning in grief, and there was nothing he could do to spare her from it.

  “Her father really engineered the virus,�
�� Dom said from his sprawl across one of the double beds in their small room.

  Killian bit back the urge to curse and settled for slamming the door instead.

  It rattled a picture on the wall and shook the lamp on the desk.

  Abriel looked up, a sympathetic frown on his face.

  “Don’t,” Killian warned before his blade-brother could say anything. “I can control myself.”

  Can you? Abriel sent the question directly into Killian’s mind.

  In truth, Killian wanted to rip something apart. Had he known what answers they would find here, he never would have brought Aubrey. He never would have subjected her to any of this. Except, he hadn’t had a choice, had he?

  “Do you think the Dominion knew?” Dom asked.

  “No.” Had they known about La Morte Nera, it never would have been released, if only to save their own skins. Sweet Heaven, how had things gotten so messed up?

  Aubrey’s father had created a monster.

  “It’s not her fault,” Abriel said.

  “I know,” Killian bit out. He didn’t blame Aubrey in the least. He didn’t even blame her father. He understood the man’s desire to protect his people from those so much stronger. What father wouldn’t want to find a way to fight back?

  That’s what pissed him off. There was no blame to place here.

  Her father had taken a gamble to protect his family, and he’d lost.

  Hell, they’d all lost.

  “What do we do now?” Dom asked.

  “Now?” Killian thought about it a moment. “We track down the Nephilim who stole the virus and find out the truth.”

  Dom frowned. “Do you really think they released the virus?”

  “Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “They have as much reason to hate the Fallen as the demons. More, perhaps. You know as well as I what happens to most of the Nephilim. The Fallen act like they don’t exist, leaving them to fend for themselves. If they saw a chance to punish us for being dishonorable cowards, why wouldn’t they take it?” Killian might have pledged his life to the Fallen, but he wasn’t blind to their faults. Far from it. He saw firsthand how so many of the Fallen treated the Nephilim. He’d lived with their scorn for two and a quarter centuries, ostracized for being what he was when he’d had no say in the matter. His father had chosen to lie with a human, yet Killian was the one punished for being born.