by L. M. French
I pulled myself up and stared at my wrist nonplussed. It was still bleeding but the nerves and tendons were reknitting as I watched.
I risked a glance at Ivory, had to make sure he was where I left him, before reaching for the buckle that secured the leather strap and therefore my wrist to the stone. Arrogant asshole, he hadn’t needed anything stronger, but he didn’t know that. He was just that sure of himself.
I didn’t bother pulling the strap all the way off, as soon as it was loose enough to slide my hand out I did.
I wiggled my fingers and, hallelujah, everything moved. The skin had finished reknitting altogether leaving nothing behind but a thin white scar across the top. Ivory's blade had been forged from literal blood and death, powerful magic, and even my enhanced healing abilities wouldn’t remove all traces from my body.
Bet it was going to ache in the damn cold too.
Curses rent the air and I watched in horror as Moths smoldering stomach burned brighter. The glow suddenly sparked into flames the flames rushing to eat the remains of the snake eater. Heat rolled off his body driving the two men back as he burned faster.
I covered my face and edged back, uneager to catch fire before making my great escape. Ivory's head snapped around as if he’d heard my thoughts.
Uh-oh.
Vaughn came to his feet next to Ivory both men flanking me slowly. Ivory to my right and Vaughn to my left.
“You're just full of the best surprises, Veda.” Ivory’s voice taunted me. Dared me to be distracted by what was happening to the snake eater.
“What the hell did you do to Moth?” Vaughn's voice was all gravel, an indication he’d gone from shocked horror to pissed the hell off. And he was between me and the door.
“What did I do?” I side-eyed the charred body. “He bit me.” So there.
“That's not how the ritual works. That’s never happened before. You did something.”
I swallowed tightly because as much as I wanted to protest, something had happened when he’d bitten me. Not that I was going to admit it. Oh no. They had reasons aplenty to want me dead. I wasn’t about to hand them my head on a platter.
Movement flashed in the corner of my eye a brief second before Ivory sprang at me taking advantage of my distraction. Thanks Vaughn. Twatwaffle.
I yelped and dove surprising Vaughn as I slid under his swinging arm like I was going for home. Technically not a bad analogy.
Ivory's momentum missed me carrying him into Vaughn and they crashed to the floor. The advantage lasted mere seconds as both men rolled in perfect sync, coming back to their feet almost instantaneously.
Ten feet. The door was ten feet away. My feet made the decision before my brain, and I was moving. Pain shot through the back of my shoulder and fire raced down my arm causing my feet to miss a step as I stumbled. Ivory whooped excitedly as something stabbed into my shoulder driving me forward as I hit the door.
There was fire in my stomach again and it erupted only this time it wasn’t fire it was light. Extraordinary light surrounded me as I fell. And I kept falling.
CHAPTER TWO
Veda
I dreamed I was floating, which was almost as good as flying but not nearly as exhilarating. I flew regularly in my dreams, not like most people, high in the sky where you could look down and see clouds and beneath them trees and homes and such. No, when I flew it was into the heavens above the sky, far from the earth. I danced through stars, raced comets, played chicken with meteors.
I loved to dream.
But the floating sensation left me as my body came down hard. That never happened when I flew. No, then my body was as insubstantial as celestial gases. This dream sucked.
I felt rough wood cut into my cheek and realized I wasn’t dreaming. That I wasn’t dead.
Something poked at the back of my head ending my wayward thoughts. Wings slapped at my face and a peek out of the corner of my eyes confirmed two things.
One, I’d gotten through the gate and was no longer trapped in the warehouse at the tender mercies of my brother. Two, there was a chicken trying to drill a hole in the back of my head.
I lifted my hand and shoved at the chicken. “Off. Go, shoo. Go lay an egg.”
The offending chicken squawked leaping down from the table in a mess of matted feathers and indignation.
I heard footsteps from behind me but lacked the strength to roll over. Also, I didn't want to fall off the table I was laying on.
“Veda?”
My eyes closed and tears burned there unshed. When I opened them again some of the treacherous bastards slipped free.
“Frank.” He knelt to put his face next to mine. "Where am I?”
“Tegan found you, you came through a gate at the club. He tried to remove the knife, but you were healed around it, so he brought you to Soon and called me. What happened, Veda? And why do you have a Reaver weapon in your shoulder?” Tegan worked for Frank like I did in a more skulking capacity.
Frank was my boss of sorts. He acquired... things and I couriered them. At six and a half feet tall he looked like Mr. Clean and dressed like Dick Tracy. I closed my eyes thinking quickly, struggling with how much I should tell him. It wasn't Ivory’s accusation of treason; no Frank knew me better than that. Besides, that was just an excuse for my brother to kill me. And therein was the issue. No one outside the king’s immediate circle knew Ivory was my foster brother. He’d lost his real name along with his sanity when he’d become a Reaver.
Mouth dry, I told him everything but left out the part where I seared a Snake Eater from the inside out. Something told me to tell no one about what happened when Moth bit me.
Frank growled and grumbled through my harrowing tale, his skin darkening and beginning to shine with iridescent greens and blues. It was easy to forget he was morcai demon. In his natural form, his ebony skin would run with colors like a pearl.
Some believed morcai demons were distant kin to nagas, their bloodlines bastardized by breeding with demons. Others say that it started with one naga, damned and cursed and all that followed were morcai demons.
Frank shook himself, calming the raging colors under his skin.
“Sai must be informed. He’ll deal with Ivory.”
I'm fairly sure by deal with he meant kill. I waited as Frank went to the door, his words hushed and urgent. I realized Tegan must have waited outside.
Frank came back but this time he wasn't alone. A small woman with dark hair and tiny hands stared down at me. This must be Soon.
She carried with her a small jade cup, its contents steaming. Using it she gestured to me and then said something to Frank in a language I couldn't understand. Her words were chopping lyrical, their flavor distinct but unrecognizable to my ears.
Frank nodded and slid his hand under my uninjured shoulder. “She said you must drink this before she can remove the blade,” he told me.
I nodded slowly allowing him to lift my head and torso enough for her to hold the cup to my lips. I hesitated briefly, my eyes moving from her to the cup she offered. I'm not a hundred percent sure what I was looking for, but I found it in her dark eyes. Peace. Solace. Safety. She would do me no harm. I let her tip the brew to my mouth expecting the bitter and I was not disappointed.
I grimaced as she stepped back, and Frank lowered my head gently onto the table. I don't know what I expected: a warning, a moment to brace myself - anything but the ungodly feeling of knife against bone, skin tearing away as she snatched the blade free of my shoulder. Even the hand she placed at the base of my neck, gods knew when, lifted as I cried out.
Frank's hand replaced hers at my neck to hold me still. It seemed unnecessary. After my oh-so-delicate procedure I wasn't sure I could do more than whimper and quiver.
No sooner had I finished the thought when I felt fingers probe inside the wound, pushing and searching.
I'm pretty sure if Frank hadn't held me down, I’d have bolted off the table gaping wound or no. The fingers slipped out of my body, and I he
ard wet sucking noises above me.
“Finish it, Soon,” Frank's words were tight.
Her hands came back to rest on top of my wound, not in it, thank gods. Warmth bathed me, not enough to completely wipe away the feeling of bones realigning and muscle re-knitting but enough that I didn't vomit up the magic potion. Something told me that would be bad.
Before I knew it, she lowered her hands and stepped away, the bottom of her shoes clicking and clacking as she retreated quickly.
I lifted my head. “Something I said?”
Frank waved off my question. “Can you stand?”
Good question. I pushed myself up until I was sitting legs dangling off the table. I rolled my shoulders, grateful to no longer be a stabbing victim, and slid off the table to my feet.
Before I could say “ta-da!” Frank grabbed my arm steering me towards the door.
I pulled my arm free. “Are we in a hurry?”
Frank's look said I was perhaps not very bright. “You made it out of city limits but not very much further. You need to get to a gate, Veda. We’re still in Ivory’s district and his men are still hunting.”
I looked over my shoulder at the table still red with my blood. “What about Soon?”
No one healed anyone for free.
He cut his hand through the air. “She’s taken care of, now hurry.”
The Reaver blade was gone, and I recalled the sucking sounds after she’d pulled it free from my body. I did not want to know.
Nodding at Frank to lead the way, I hurried.
We left Soon’s shop at breakneck speed, racing past shelves and counters full of jars of hooves and beaks, tongues, and other what-not a body would need to be happy, horny. or rich.
We burst from the back door, spinning in a tight circle eyeing our surroundings for danger, imminent or otherwise. But we were alone, at least for now.
“Which way, Veda?” Frank was a demon and as such he wasn’t afraid of much, but even he couldn’t protect me from Ivory and his army.
I pulled my energy in tightly before casting it out like my own personal sonar-only I wasn’t searching water but for the fabric of the realm.
Sentinels could sense gates if they were in close proximity, but they couldn’t hunt them. At least that was the general rule. One I broke. There were established routes, known gates that were used and used well. But this began to change with the expansion of the human world.
Of the half dozen sentinels I knew of; I was the only half-human. Oh, they were all half-breeds, not enough of us to breed pure, but the others were of more immortal stock. The only commonality between us was our mark. Every sentinel was born with a mark somewhere on their body. Mine was on my neck close to my hairline.
Sentinels fell somewhere in the middle of the food chain. We shared a lot of traits with the shifters like enhanced vision, strength and incredible speed spurred on by a ridiculous metabolism.
Unlike shifters, the moon held no sway for a sentinel. But as I stood there, my feet anchored to the ground, I felt the moon's pull drawing my face skyward.
Another secret, like my ability to hunt gates. A necessary secret, something told me.
After I’d been dumped on the doorstep of a wolf healer, Sai had been alerted. My mark was unmistakable and my future to be decided by one of the most powerful beings on earth. He’d placed me with foster parents with the strict understanding that I was not theirs to keep. I was to be sheltered, fed and clothed but my path had been decided.
So, I had a dedicated if not loving home and a purpose even if I didn’t know what it was or if I even wanted it.
And I had my secrets. Only one soul knew I could hunt gates besides Frank and if he knew I’d told Frank he'd have him killed. That had me keeping my other secret under my hat from everyone.
A sentinel couldn’t pull power from the moon and stars. But as I stood there the moon riding high and stars burning bright my blood throbbed so hard with power I shook.
“VEDA!” Frank’s surly boom brought me back from outer space. It wasn't the moon making me shake, it was Frank's death grip on my arms as he rattled my brains.
I shoved at his chest “If you were trying to get my attention you’ve succeeded.”
“Fuck all, Veda. We don’t have time for you to meditate. Which way?”
I shoved at his chest again, stumbling back when he released me. My arms ached but I resisted rubbing them. They’d be bruised for sure but considering our situation and my mental walk-about I thought he’d shown admirable restraint. Where I was super-strong by human standards Frank was super-strong on steroids with a PCP chaser. Basically, with the right motivation Frank could rip bank vaults apart barehanded.
“Veda.” The word was, what do you call it? Potent. Just rich with ‘Get on with it or I’m gonna tear your arms off’.
I sifted through lines of energy until one hummed. “East,” I pointed. I could be helpful.
Frank grabbed my arm, still pointing, and ran.
He was also faster than me, so I mostly gripped his arm and hung on for the ride.
It took ten solid minutes of outright running, backtracking twice before we found the gate.
We crouched low in an alley; our backs pressed up tight to a brick wall. Leaning out Frank surveyed the building where it sat across the street.
Its sign was big and crass filled with dollar signs and gold coins.
Big Poppas Pawn and Gold
I eyed the flashing gold coins. Maybe Big Poppa was a leprechaun.
Frank looked skeptical. “Are you sure about his place?”
I snorted. “Magic and tacky aren’t mutually exclusive. There are gates in a lot of places you wouldn’t believe.”
Like our Kings bedroom. A bit of information I’d come across at the tender age of six. I was still scarred from what I’d seen, and Sai had been no happier.
Frank raised his large frame to a standing position. “Well, let's get you across the street and away from Ivory. Any idea where it goes?”
Another secret. I know, my list keeps getting longer. Sometimes, just sometimes, the gates were marked. Like bastardized runes only a magical eye could see. I’d only discovered them recently and could only guess at their meaning.
Frank got to share my special secret since I needed someone to help me decipher them. Not that he could see them, but I would copy what I could remember, and he’d take them to his would-be fiancé Orsha.
Orsha was a morcai demon with a little fae in her family tree. Fae had the longest written history besides the Timorii.
I shook my head at his question and followed him onto the sidewalk. “I won’t know til I see it.”
Frank stopped so suddenly I plowed right into his back. “Dammit Frank-”
He whirled his yellow trench coat flared around him like a giant beacon. The hat did not help.
“It's inside!” he bellowed.
I winced. Even better. If the bad guys were afoot, they had our location. “It's the best I can do. I didn’t plan this little trip.”
We stood there glaring at each other when two things occurred to me.
One, there were no cars, none. Two, there were no people. I’d give you one or the other but what were the odds of the street being completely abandoned at seven in the evening. Not good.
One look at Frank’s face told me the same thing had occurred to him.
Frank grabbed my arm and slung me behind him as a crack split the air and the first bullet took him high in the shoulder. Another crack and a second bullet sliced across his forehead taking his hat off and whipping his head back. Both bullets pinged the ground after more or less bouncing off his body.
He never lost ground.
On all fours behind him I watched as his skin swirled, colors marbling violently over his normal midnight hue. His jaw elongated to accommodate two sets of fangs and he roared in rage at the two vampires sauntering towards us.
The one on the left was long and lean, almost lanky, with spiky red hair and an o
bvious fixation with the goth community. The one on the right was shorter, stockier probably a football player back in his breathing days.
Red shouldered a rifle and chambered a round while I watched in disbelief.
You don’t shoot at something that cannot be shot and will probably eat you for trying.
Frank snorted and leapt for Red just as he fired. The bullet hit the ground in front of me fragmenting into pieces. I threw up my arm to protect my face and still felt a slash and burn across my forehead.
A quick glance told me Frank was using Red’s now limp body to beat Stocky into submission. Without further ado I took off in a sprint for the pawn shop.
It was a trap, and I knew it, but I had to get to the gate. Frank could and would take care of himself. I was a little more killable.
The front of the store was glass and I hit it running. At this point, finesse was a luxury. I rolled through sharp remnants coming to a crouch on the balls of my feet. It took all of ten seconds to spot the gate. Shotgun style, the back door was dead opposite of the front door. And it was my gate.
I rose to my feet, sprinting past the glass counter running the length of the wall to my right. I was halfway there and almost giddy with relief when all hell broke loose.
Display counters exploded in a shower of glass, merchandise flew off the shelves and I realized I was being shot at. Again.
I hit the floor making myself small and crawled on my elbows and knees around the counter that housed the cash register. Moving quickly, I started opening drawers I could reach. It was a pawn shop - they had to have weapons.
“Veda.” My hands froze.
“Ve-da.” My name hit my ears in a sing-song voice. A familiar voice.
“Come on, Veda.” Tru. Trulio Barela. One of Ivory’s shifters. A hound.
I returned to searching, faster this time since he’d hear me anyways. Just as my hands found what I was looking for his footsteps closed in on the register.
Without warning Trulio landed on the sales counter in a crouch above me. “Boo!”
