Monsters, Book One: The Good, The Bad, The Cursed

by Heather Killough-Walden

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You’re tense.”

  Angel gritted her teeth and looked up at her mentor over the tops of her wrapped fists. She didn’t say anything as she moved around the ring, trying to concentrate on her next opening in his defense.

  “You need a break,” he continued. “And I’m betting you could use some healing too. Have you contacted Darius lately?”

  Angel’s sentinel.

  At the thought of the sentinels, Angel automatically thought of all the wardens on the planet they were assigned to. And then she thought of the clans that housed them. And then of course she thought of the Monsters clan and her throat tightened, sending her bad mood up a notch.

  She glared at her mentor. “Quit telling me what I need, Gabe.”

  Gabriel moved so fast, she wasn’t expecting it, which was probably the point, and his blows landed one after the other in quick succession. Angel doubled over at the impact in her abdomen, and then hissed in pain as his second punch made it into her side. He was always careful to pull his punches, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt. And she was already bruised. He was right.

  “Whatever you say,” he teased, giving her no indication of any coming quarter. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you in on that last job. It went against my better judgment.”

  Angel was forced to keep her guard up as he came in again, taking easy advantage of every single point of weakness that she couldn’t hide from him. She was starting to feel very sore and very frustrated. “You let me in because you needed me,” she insisted, furiously scanning his strong body for openings.

  “Contrary to your big beautiful head, Clemens, the Vega clan can actually handle a job without you once in a while.”

  Beautiful?

  She forced herself to let the word go and thought about the rest of his comment. It might have been true in general, but they both knew that in this particular instance, what he was saying was total bologna. They would be down a very good warden right now if it hadn’t been for her.

  It was such a blatant spoken attempt at sabre rattling, that it didn’t even require a response from Angel, so she concentrated on the fight instead. Finally she accomplished one good shot with a faked round kick, for which he nimbly dodged, followed up by an unexpected spinning hook kick that snapped his head to the side.

  She immediately felt bad for it, but her regret was short lived when he retaliated with an expertly coordinated move that knocked her dangerously off-balance. In that fatal opening, she was grabbed, spun around, and locked against his hard chest. Her arms were crossed and trapped against her own body, her wrists in his strong hands. His face was beside hers, preventing her from slamming the back of her head against his nose, and he was quick to maintain her off-balance stance by knocking her legs wide with his.

  She struggled uselessly in his arms, her frustration rising. For fifteen years, she’d been training with Gabriel, and she’d never managed to get the upper hand with him when he meant business. Not once. She could have used it today for sure. She felt angry. She wanted to hurt something!

  “You’re in pain and you need a break,” Gabriel said calmly beside her ear as she squirmed in his hard grip, gritting her teeth. “You clearly haven’t taken anything for the injuries you sustained on our last job,” he continued. She growled, her heart hammering like a Metallica drum solo. “Let me buy you a drink, Angel.”

  Angel gradually went still. Her breathing shook, and a drop of sweat threatened one of her eyes.

  He was right again. As she remained in his arms, slowly coming down from her peak of anger, she realized two things. One, she was aching all over. And two, his arms felt good.

  She was not indifferent to the effect he had on her. He was more than six feet of solid muscle that had been military trained. He was warm and smelled like soap and strength. His words, so close, were spoken with such calm control he destabilized her.

  He had that effect on her a lot, actually.

  But he was her friend, her mentor, and clans were like family. She had never crossed the line with him in all these years for fear of causing a rift in that precious bond. She needed her family. She would literally die for it.

  And right now she was edgy and raw. She didn’t feel like being nice, she didn’t feel like going somewhere and socializing, she wanted to fight. There were just too many little things bothering her, and they added up to one big thing, one entire body on pins and needles.

  “You know I’m right, Clemens. You’re hurting, and it’s making you want to wage war. You need to get past this and breathe. Let me take care of you.”

  Angel swallowed. She licked her lips and closed her eyes, trying to see ahead – into the future. In the end, Gabriel’s words won out. He knew her well. If she could take the ragged, sharp edges off everything, they might stop slicing her to ribbons. And maybe she wouldn’t be so fuming. She needed a break whether she was agreeable about it or not.

  She breathed in slowly through her nose, and released it even slower through her mouth until her jaw unclenched and her teeth separated at last. “One drink.”

  Gradually, Gabriel released her, allowing her to regain her balance before stepping back so she wouldn’t fall. Angel straightened up and pushed some of her wayward hair from her eyes. “I’ll go shower and meet you outside in ten.”

  Gabriel didn’t say anything. She didn’t face him, but she could hear him turn away and leave for the men’s locker rooms. For a moment, she stayed there like that, in the middle of the kickboxing ring, by herself. She closed her eyes again and paid attention to her body.

  It was trembling. There really was too much pain moving through her, and she’d neglected to take care of it. Her mind was all over the place. She was a mess. She’d been a mess for more than two weeks. She’d managed to keep a firm hold on it until now. But now the dreams were getting to her.

  “You’re weak, Angel,” she whispered. “Get a grip.” She cursed herself as she left the ring for the showers. Ten minutes later, she was clean and dressed again and heading back through the gym. It was closed now, and the lights were off. The owners always left at the same time, and set the locks so the doors could be opened from the inside, but not the outside, allowing stragglers to free themselves for the night. Aside from the air conditioner humming steadily, all was quiet.

  But her footsteps slowed. Something felt off.

  She stopped and turned a slow circle, her instincts notching into a higher gear. Her ears pricked, and her eyes searched the shadows of the cavernous space. For some reason, her heartbeat was accelerating. She felt light suddenly. Not light-headed – just light. As if she were floating or even high.

  The bodily aches that had been pulling her unconscious strings under the radar of late were suddenly gone. There was no pain, no throbbing, no numbness in any extremity due to injury-related nerve damage.

  She exhaled shakily, all at once very alert, and pulled the gun from the holster at her back beneath her jacket. It hadn’t been that good a shower. She hadn’t taken anything. Something was definitely wrong, and being a warden, she knew that feelings like this often came at very high prices. They often accompanied supernaturals.

  She gripped the gun expertly between her hands as her eyes continued to search all around her. “Who’s there?” she asked quietly. She knew the bullets in her gun wouldn’t kill most of the things she had to face in her job as warden, but they would slow them down.

  However, nothing moved in the gym. Nothing answered her. The air conditioner overhead suddenly shut off, making her start a little. She waited, ears tuned into the slightest sound, but when her breathing became too loud for her, she decided she was overreacting. She’d simply… worked out really hard and was experiencing a delayed runner’s high. Yes, that made sense. After all, it had only been a few minutes since she and Gabriel had stopped training.

  Angel lowered her weapon, straightened, and took a deep breath. Now that she wasn’t in so much pain and the endorphins had
kicked in, she was much more susceptible to the idea of going out and having a drink. She hadn’t cut loose in a long time – and this was just a drink with her mentor. What could go wrong?

  She reholstered her gun, ran her hands through her still-damp hair to fluff it so it would dry properly, and straightened her clothing. She’d chosen a simple pair of skin-hugging jeans, Fiorentini and Baker boots, a white tee, and a hooded black leather jacket. The essentials. She was an “essentials” kind of girl. Luckily for her, she looked good in them.

  With one last glance at the gym’s interior, she made her way to the exit and joined Gabriel outside. He was leaning against his vehicle, a black Range Rover that had seen its fair share of action over the years but still looked mint. Gabe’s well-honed arms were crossed over his broad chest, and his gaze was distant. He was staring at the ground, lost in thought.

  But when he heard the door to the gym open and saw her come out, he came off the bumper and uncrossed his arms, keys in hand. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she replied easily, trying not to ogle him too much. The man was sexy, so it was never easy. He’d gone from a twenty-three year-old highly trained soldier boy to a thirty-eight year old highly trained warden man in the time she’d known him, and time had been kind to him.

  His black hair was thick and fell over his eyes sometimes during training in a way that made their amber irises flash appealingly in the overhead lights. They did the same now in the light of the parking lot lamps as they met hers.

  Angel quickly looked away, hastening to the passenger’s side door. “Where are we going?” she asked as she vaulted herself up into the seat. He joined her on the other side, and their doors slammed shut in unison.

  “The Gasoline will be open for another five hours.” He started the ignition and pulled the SUV out of the lot. “Imported beer from ninety-nine different countries. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect,” she said as she stared out the window at the passing buildings. She couldn’t help it. She was really looking forward to relaxing for a while. And to not thinking about that meeting. Or her past. Which for some reason was making a return trip in orbit lately and wouldn’t leave her alone. But that was why the gods had invented alcohol.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You must be certain she takes this job.”

  Roman glanced up from his desk just as Katrielle the Nomad dropped a file folder on top of the documents he’d been studying. He lifted a brow.

  “It’s good to see you as well, Lady Chantelle.”

  Katrielle had once been Lalura Chantelle, the ancient witch who’d looked after the Kings and Queens, guiding them and teaching them and basically driving them nuts but while acquiring their love and respect. She was a Nomad, a Traveler, an enigmatic and ancient creature beyond time, so old and so powerful there really was nothing else to liken her to. When a Nomad died, but for special circumstances, they were simply reborn as something or someone else.

  Katrielle was a tall, slim woman with masses of beautiful red hair and blue, blue eyes. Those eyes… they always stayed the same for Kat. In every form she ever took, she had those eyes. But this current form had also been Kat’s original form, her first – and she’d intimated that it might just be her last.

  Despite her youth and beauty now, Roman D’Angelo would probably never stop seeing her as Lalura Chantelle, the ancient and wrinkled hunched figure with a voice as dry and sharp as parchment paper. So he called her by that name now as he sat back in his chair and folded his fingers gracefully across his lap.

  Katrielle simply gave him a tight smile, but her eyes caught the mess on his desk. “I seem to be interrupting.”

  “A matter brought to my attention by the Unseelie King,” said Roman.

  “Oh?” It was clear she was trying to stay calm, but that she also felt what she had to say was very important. “What’s Caliban done now?”

  Roman held back his chuckle. This matter really was very serious, actually. “As of yet, nothing. However, Lord Malek Taal and his men are facing a crisis.”

  At this, Katrielle’s eyes flashed. Her demeanor changed. She frowned and took a deep breath. “They’re hunting for mates.” She said it in the form of a statement, not a question. This surprised Roman. And then it also didn’t. He’d known her a long time, and she’d always been ahead of him in the knowledge department. She was ahead of everyone.

  “Yes,” he said simply. “I’m assuming you know what is happening, then.”

  Katrielle sighed. Then she nodded, just once. “The Unseelie Prophet and I had tea. She told me what transpired between herself and the Taal lord. She filled me in on what is happening among their ranks. Now they are searching for Kindred, the Taal equivalent of a soulmate. But they’re Taal, so the search is far from peaceful. I’m assuming Caliban came to warn you that if the situation isn’t resolved, there may be another fae war.”

  Roman looked at the documents on the desk in front of him. They were ancient papers, scrawled with the wording of a treaty that spanned millennia. It was the treaty between the Seelie, the Unseelie, and the Goblin Kingdom. He was admittedly worried there was trouble on the horizon. “Yes,” he said. “But I’m not certain there’s anything I can do other than warn the other sovereigns and have them tell the wardens to keep wary. If a warden kills a Taal as he is searching for his mate, there will surely be a bloody feud. The warden clans will therefore need to stay alert and patient of the situation.”

  Katrielle let him finish. And then she sighed. “On the other hand, if the Taal are given free reign and wind up harming a warden while conveying a Taal kiss, it would be worse.”

  “True. What do you suggest?”

  “At the moment, a few extra precautions. Wards. Spells. Most warden mages are aware of the weakness of the fae to iron. They can work with that perhaps. And….” She closed her eyes and touched her forehead gently. He noted that her fingers were trembling. He frowned.

  She lowered her hand and said frankly, “Roman, I hate to change the subject so harshly, but there’s really no time. The leader of the Vega clan must be instructed at once to include Angela Clemens in the team that takes this job.” She leaned forward and tapped her forefinger on the file atop his other documents.

  Roman glanced at the folder, then back up at Katrielle. She straightened and waited, but with clear impatience. He said, “I’m assuming there is something fatally important in this folder.”

  Katrielle took a breath. “There is. Or there will be. But Gabriel Santiago will not call Angela in unless commanded to do so. You’ll need to give the order. Make it a priority; this has a bearing on the Taal as well.”

  Roman’s brow lifted. Interesting. “Do I need to warn Miss Clemens of the Taal threat?”

  Katrielle considered that for a moment. Finally, she nodded. “It couldn’t hurt. Speak with the clan heads as soon as possible and be certain Santiago speaks with Clemens as well. As fate would have it… there is a Taal with her in his sights.”

  Roman tried to process that. One of the Taal men was after a warden, and not just any warden, but a second-in-command. And a healer. It sent a cold unease through him, as if his blood were flushed with ocean water. He wondered which Taal it was.

  “Very well,” he said. He’d known the woman standing before him long enough to trust her implicitly. If she said something was important – that meant it was. Kat stayed where she was while Roman pulled his cell phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and opened the file. He read with vampire speed as the call connected.

  After a single ring, Gabriel Santiago picked up on the other end.

  “Mr. D’Angelo,” Gabriel said.

  “Santiago,” Roman replied. He grabbed a fresh piece of paper and began to write. “I have a priority job for you. The file will hit your desk tomorrow morning. I’m requesting certain members for your team. I’m also sending an addendum that you’ll need to discuss with a specific subordinate.” He said this as he made a final note on the file, included
the new document, and re-closed the folder.

  “Understood,” said Santiago. The line disconnected and Roman re-pocketed his phone.

  He then picked up the folder and stood, preparing to deliver it to the job distributor who would take it to the Vega safe house. But as he moved around his desk, he paused and studied his old friend.

  Kat wasn’t looking so good.

  Roughly two and a half weeks ago, the sovereigns had tasked the best wardens available with tracking down Vicium Mehemii’s location. They’d worked diligently, eventually accomplishing what should have been impossible and pinpointing his position to Manhattan. The embodiment of mayhem and chaos had taken the tall and handsome form of one very powerful man by the name of Victor Maze. He was the president and CEO of Maze Enterprises, also known as Maze Corp or Maze, Inc.

  Suitably, Maze Inc. mainly specialized in purchasing and dismantling other companies and corporations. Dismantling… that was entropy’s forte. Maze Enterprises was brutal in its mergers and acquisitions. The company of more than forty-thousand employees owned offices in every major city in the US and overseas. Every single one.

  Chaos, it seemed, was capable of spreading at the speed of light.

  At the same time, no one had yet seen or heard from the one man who’d been capable of standing up to Victor all these millennia, the one who’d kept him in his own realm all this time, the one who Victor Maze had finally defeated and escaped, no doubt due to the weakness in the dimensional walls caused by the Time King and the recent collision and cohesion of two separate dimensions.

  Bantariax the Great Black was missing. According to location spells cast by every mage capable of casting the spell, his essence was not completely destroyed but weakened and scattered throughout the realms. And while Bantariax was dismantled at the hands of Victor Maze, the beautiful and unique Katrielle was without the legendary dragon’s love and protection.

  To Roman, this was a terrible concern. Katrielle was the last of her kind. She was the last full-blooded Nomad in existence. And she was much loved by the sovereigns. If Victor Maze got his hands on her….