Stricken (The War Scrolls Book 1)

by A. K. Morgen

  “Hello, Aubrey,” the Nephilim greeted her, holding Zee up by the scruff of his neck as the kitten clawed and slapped at the air.

  The smaller man at his side smiled, baring his fangs.

  ***

  “Come on,” Killian groaned as the vending machine spit his dollar bill out for the fifth time in a row. He’d already used the only other acceptable bill in his possession to get Aubrey’s caffeine. He shoved the useless bill into his pocket and started toward the office, humming to shut out the voices trickling from beneath the doors he passed.

  The only sex sounds he cared to hear were Aubrey’s.

  The way she’d felt beneath him had been perfect. For the first time since the virus hit, he regretted that he probably wouldn’t survive it. He needed more time with her. He needed more of her.

  He was halfway to the office when he caught a scent that froze him in his tracks.

  There was a Nephilim near. And something else. Vampire? Werewolf?

  No.

  Demon.

  Not one of the half-breeds, but a full-blooded demon. The scent was like sulfur in the back of Killian’s throat, polluted and foul. As if the stench of Hell followed the demon even here. Chills raced up and down Killian’s arms. His heart began to race, pounding like a drum.

  And then he remembered.

  Aubrey was alone.

  He spun on his heel and took off at a run, ducking around a group of humans stumbling toward their rooms with suitcases in their arms. One yelled at him, but he didn’t even slow. Blood rushed in his ears, seeming to pound in time to the fear pulsing in his breast.

  Halfway back to Aubrey’s room, a vacant hum began to echo in a familiar way.

  An Elioud in wolf form leaped from the shadows of an alcove.

  Killian darted to the side, trying to go around him, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  The creature’s teeth sank into his arm, ripping through his flesh and into the bone beneath.

  A burning pain ran up and down his arm.

  Killian didn’t even blink as he jerked free of the shifter and wrapped both arms around its neck, snapping it. He threw the body to the ground and took off again, unconcerned with who saw, desperation to get to Aubrey fueling him.

  Thoughts began to trickle toward him from the Halfling, little snippets of displaced conversation, but Killian heard enough to send shards of ice into his heart.

  They had Aubrey.

  He wanted to rage at that. He’d promised to keep her safe, to protect her.

  The door to their room burst open with one well-aimed kick.

  Killian lunged inside. His arm burned like fire where the infected shifter had bitten him. He wanted to rage at that too. He’d promised Aubrey to try, and it was too little, too late. In a matter of hours, he’d be infected. In a matter of days—two at most—he would die.

  No. Not until Aubrey was safe.

  His mind processed the scene quickly.

  The demon stood near the window, Zee at his feet. He watched, laughing as the kitten hissed and slapped at the Nephilim holding Aubrey by the throat. If Hell had corrupted the demon’s soul, it’d left the rest of him untouched. Save for the hatred burning in his black eyes, he looked like an ordinary vampire. The Halfling was huge. He towered over Aubrey as she struggled for breath. Pleasure shone in his blue eyes as if he got off on causing her pain.

  Aubrey’s eyes were wide and frightened, her skin pale as death.

  Killian started toward the giant holding her, murder in his mind.

  “You must be the warrior,” the demon said, almost politely.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The Nephilim’s grip on Aubrey tightened. “I’ll kill her right here.”

  Killian stopped instantly.

  “What do you want?” he demanded, wanting to scream.

  “Her,” the demon said.

  “No.”

  The demon laughed, the sound grating across Killian’s nerves like the shrill hum of cicada song. “She leaves with us or she dies here. Your choice.”

  “Take me instead,” he offered in a desperate bid to free Aubrey.

  “You’re of no use to us.” His lip curled up, disgust stamped across his face. He flicked his gaze down to Killian’s bloody arm. “You’ve been infected.”

  “No,” Aubrey cried, the sound little more than a strangled rasp. She fought to get free, pushing against the giant holding her.

  The cruel bastard tightened his grip.

  Killian fought to stay where he was. Everything in him demanded he tear her from the Halfling’s grasp. It killed him that he couldn’t do it. In all of his worries over her safety, he’d never expected that this would be how it ended for them. He’d never let himself believe anyone would get through him to her. Never even guessed one of Lucifer’s servants had crawled out of Hell to find her.

  In one careless moment…he’d lost. Everything.

  “Let us leave, and she won’t be killed,” the demon said, pushing away from the wall.

  Killian heard the lie in his mind. Saw it in the hateful smirk on the Halfling’s face.

  She’ll wish she was dead.

  He ached to launch himself at the demon. To tear his throat out.

  His gaze flickered to Aubrey once more.

  She trembled in the outcast’s grasp, drops of moisture shimmering on her lashes. Rage and grief lashed at him when he realized she’d already worked it out for herself. She knew death would be better than what these two had planned for her.

  “Please,” she mouthed.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to give her what she asked for. Unable to let them kill her here and now. If he let them take her, there was a chance he could free her. There was also the chance they’d torment her as much as the Nephilim boy had so many years ago.

  It killed him that he had to take that chance.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Wise choice,” the demon said as Killian stepped away from the door so they could pass. “Don’t try to follow us.”

  Killian’s heart shattered in his chest as the Nephilim dragged Aubrey from the room. He was almost glad the virus would kill him soon because the look in her eyes, the stark terror…that would haunt him until his dying breath.

  Chapter Twenty

  Killian barely kept himself upright as the demon pulled the broken door shut behind him. He wanted to fall to his knees and scream. He lunged toward the bed instead and grabbed his cell phone. His fingers raced across the small buttons, punching in the number he’d already memorized.

  He was at the window in a matter of seconds, ripping the curtains aside to look out. The demon, Nephilim, and Aubrey had already disappeared from sight, but Killian didn’t need to see them. With the bond, he could follow Aubrey anywhere.

  He would follow her anywhere, even to Hell itself if he had to.

  Her little hellcat was still going wild. His fur stood up straight on his back as he hissed and slapped at the air as if the two who’d taken Aubrey still stood in the room. It was an impressive display of fury for such a little thing.

  As the phone rang, Killian swiped the kitten up and set him on the bed before grabbing his bag and upending it over the desk. Knives, flares, and his favorite dagger dropped onto the wooden top with a clang.

  “Jason?” he barked into the phone as soon as the Elioud answered, donning his wrist sheaths and tucking the knives inside. “They have Aubrey…” Saying the words aloud felt like pumping pure acid through his veins. It hurt. God, it hurt. “I need help.”

  Jason was silent for a heartbeat and then said, “What do you need?”

  Relief hit Killian hard, causing his head to bow. He filled Jason in, only listening long enough to ensure Jason and the others were on the way before he shoved the cell phone back into his pocket. He grabbed the dagger and Zee, unable to leave the protective kitten behind, and started toward the door, certain Aubrey’s captors had enough of a lead that he could follow undetected. He didn’t even bother try
ing to dress the wound on his arm. It wouldn’t make a difference, and all that mattered was Aubrey, anyway.

  One way or another, he would free her. And the two who had her were going to regret ever coming near her. It would likely be the last thing he did, but he would do it. He’d promised her.

  ***

  The tormented look in Killian’s eye as Aubrey’s captors dragged her from the room would stay with her forever. She’d never seen such anguish before. It tore through her like shrapnel slicing deeply through her flesh. So did her terror for Killian.

  He was infected. Not even what her Nephilim tormentor had done to her so long ago came close to matching the feelings ripping through her over that fact. She felt fragmented, completely shredded. She couldn’t even summon the will to care that the two who’d taken her were going to kill her. The knowledge that Killian was going to die sapped her will, her anger, everything. There was nothing left but sorrow and terror for the Halfling warrior who had invaded her life and stolen her heart.

  What did she care if the vampire and his friend broke her bones? If they made her blood run in little rivers down her body? The biggest horror she could have imagined had already happened. Killian was infected.

  She wanted to scream for him as the Nephilim monster tossed her over a shoulder as if she weighed nothing and raced past the dead man lying across the walkway. She bit her tongue instead. Bit it so hard she tasted blood.

  It didn’t hold back her sobs.

  They came in gasping whimpers as the night slipped by in blurs.

  She didn’t even care where they were taking her or what they wanted. All she wanted was to die quickly and get it over with. At least that way it wouldn’t hurt so very much.

  ***

  Killian slipped through the marsh like a ghost, following Aubrey’s scent as if it were a trail of breadcrumbs. She was bleeding. The scent was faint, like that which came from a small nick or a bitten lip. It infuriated him even so. The warrior inside raged. He couldn’t seem to find the energy to contain that part of himself. Not that it mattered. He needed that vengeance-fueled side loose.

  The entire right side of his body burned as the infection began working its way through his system. It didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected it would, but it was close. Within hours, he’d be gone, any hint of the warrior he’d been burned away.

  He refused to let the infection take him, though. Not until Aubrey was safe.

  He looked down at the kitten in his arms again.

  “We’ll find her,” he vowed, refusing to entertain the possibility that they might be too late.

  Zee hissed, his white fur still standing on end. Aubrey had picked the perfect animal for her. The kitten was her own little warrior, fierce and protective.

  Killian just hoped he could hold on long enough to see them reunited. He ran a little faster, weaving back and forth between trees and bog water as Aubrey’s captors did. They were headed south, where marsh gave way to miles of forest.

  Within half an hour, the minds of the Elioud shifters began to whisper at him from the west. They were closing in, getting closer.

  He kept running, refusing to slow.

  The first of the Elioud, Tyrell, caught up to him within a matter of minutes. He changed direction in midstride and instead of crossing paths with Killian, began to run at his side. His fur flashed like silver in the little bit of moonlight peeking through the thick branches overhead.

  Zee went wild in Killian’s arms, hissing and clawing. He didn’t try to get away, though.

  The rest of the Elioud shifters followed on Tyrell’s heels, their thoughts full of murder. Killian almost felt sorry for the demon and Halfling who had taken Aubrey. Her friends planned to tear them apart.

  Killian couldn’t wait to let them.

  Jason changed from wolf to man in midstride. He ran bare-ass naked, barely even stumbling.

  Killian cursed and slowed. “This isn’t going to work,” he muttered, swaying on his feet.

  Jason skidded to a stop in front of him as the rest of the group closed in around them.

  “I can’t track her with you so close,” Killian answered. “The Fallen-bond is confusing my bond with her.”

  Jason glanced at the Elioud and then at Killian. Surprise echoed in his mind over the bond, but he didn’t mention it. “Fall back and spread out,” he commanded the Elioud.

  The shifters fell back.

  Killian closed his eyes, trying to focus on his connection with Aubrey. Separating it from the bond the Fallen shared with the strongest Elioud was hard…far harder than it would have been without the virus attacking his system. But he found it, pulsing like a rope of light.

  “Better?” Jason swung his head in Killian’s direction.

  “Better.” He swayed again. The infection worked fast. Faster than he had time for. His temperature was rising, the virus pushing it higher and higher. He gritted his teeth, fighting it.

  “You’re infected,” Jason said, tensing. A low growl started in the back of his throat.

  Similar sounds echoed from the rest of the Elioud.

  Killian didn’t even attempt to deny it. “You can kill me after we find her,” he told Jason, holding his gaze. “But not until.”

  The Elioud milled restlessly, their nervousness clear, but Jason silenced them with a low whistle. “Agreed, St. James,” he said.

  That was good enough for Killian.

  He adjusted Zee in his arms and took off running again.

  ***

  “We’re being followed,” the Nephilim, Tomiel, announced.

  Killian! It had to be Killian.

  Aubrey perked up at Tomiel’s announcement, hope breaking through the heavy fog in her mind. They’d been running for nearly an hour. The trees were little more than dark blurs around them. Her ribs were bruised where she bounced on his shoulders with every stride. The combination of rhythmic, painful bounces and fear had lulled her to the edge of mental exhaustion.

  “Doesn’t matter,” the demon, Halphas, said. He didn’t even sound winded, as if running were no big thing to him. “We’ll catch up to the varcolac soon. If he manages to hold on to himself that long—”

  Werewolves. They were meeting a pack of werewolves.

  Aubrey’s heart sank. There was no way Killian could fight through that, not with La Morte Nera raging through him. Chances were she’d never see him again. That thought brought anger boiling to the surface.

  “What do you want from me?” she demanded.

  “You mean you don’t know?” Halphas actually sounded surprised as if he hadn’t quite realized Aubrey didn’t know everything already.

  “His Master wants you,” Tomiel answered.

  “Why?” Aubrey demanded, fighting back the urge to vomit as anger gave way to fear.

  “You really don’t know, do you?” Halphas asked.

  “No.” She gritted her teeth as she bounced painfully on the Halfling’s shoulder.

  Each jarring bounce was like falling on a rock.

  “Your father was brilliant,” Halphas said. “Do you know how difficult it was for him to create a virus that killed angels? Finding a way to poison their blood so it attacked instead of Healed took some doing. But he did it.”

  “Good for him,” Aubrey snapped, angry at her father all over again.

  The demon laughed. “Of course, the virus would have killed anything with angel blood, including you and your brother. He couldn’t have that, so he had to find a cure.” He paused dramatically. “Had he left it alone, none of this would be necessary. We wouldn’t need you.”

  “Need me?”

  “Your antibodies, to be specific,” he continued. “Your blood and your brother’s are very much alike. With him gone, yours is worth quite a lot right now. An answer to a lot of prayers, as it were.”

  Aubrey’s mind reeled at that. Was he saying her father had found a cure in Aaron’s blood? That her blood could cure Killian? Get rid of the infection? Oh God…please.

&nb
sp; A little vein of hope began to spread.

  “Your father’s virus was a blessing in disguise for us. Do you know how long we’ve waited to destroy the Fallen? We’d hoped the virus would kill them all, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen since the Dominion has hidden themselves behind their walls, so we had to come up with another plan.”

  “Wha—” Aubrey cleared her throat and tried again. “What plan?”

  “The races need a cure. We have it. You, actually. Any Fallen-kin who pledges themselves to Hell in the coming war will get an antidote. Those who don’t…” Halphas laughed, making it clear what would happen to the Nephilim and Elioud who didn’t pledge their oaths to Hell, thus granting Hell thousands of additional souls to use up and spit out.

  Aubrey had no doubt the same grisly fate awaited her regardless of what decision the Elioud and Nephilim made.

  “Well, better for all of you if they agree, wouldn’t you say?”

  Aubrey trembled, fighting back the bile rising in her throat.

  “It’s a good thing the Elioud went looking for you to try to warn you. I don’t know how they found out, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. Turns out, even with the infection running through their veins, they led us right to you.”

  Oh…God.

  “Don’t cry, little one. If the Fallen-kin agree, you might actually survive.”

  “I hope they don’t agree so I get to kill you.” Tomiel sounded pleased at the prospect.

  “Why are you doing this?” Aubrey demanded of him, clenching her hands into fists. “Why are you helping them?” Good God, did he not understand how much damage the demons had already caused with the virus? How many of his kind had already died? How many might still die?

  “How do you think we found out about your father, Aubrey?” the demon asked, his voice hardening. “As soon as he uncovered what your father had done, he came to us.”

  “You’re insane,” Aubrey snapped to the Nephilim carrying her.