Daughters of Eve Collection (Books 1, 2 & 3)

by Bourdon, Danielle

  Without warning, Alexandra sputtered a lungful of water out of her mouth and gasped for air. Choking, disoriented, she fought to breathe.

  Dracht rolled her to her side, helped her exhume the liquid, then pulled her up against his armored chest, crooning rough, raspy sounds to put her at ease.

  Evelyn sank against Rhett in relief and he pressed a kiss against her temple, one arm sliding around her.

  Beyond the small group, Rhett met Khyamaeus' gaze. The Fallen glanced at Evelyn, then turned away, stalking toward the altar.

  A shiver cold as death ran down Rhett's spine.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The gathering fell into an eerie stasis. From her spot curled against Rhett, Evelyn regarded the others through watery eyes; Khyamaeus, tall and alone away from the group, keeping the surroundings under surveillance; Dracht scooping Alex against his armor, rocking gently and rasping in her ear; Christian crouched next to Dracht, black hair askew across his brow, blue gaze showing worry over her sister. Rhett, mimicking his brother, held her close and tight.

  A strange pall settled over the clearing, the birds gone, bodies littering the ground. She realized the scent of smoke was much stronger than when they'd arrived. Wisps drifted through the treetops, sometimes hard to see against the ever present gray sky. It almost felt like this was the place it ended, that this battle should have been the last, and that the world, eventually, would right itself again.

  But she knew that it wouldn't. It wasn't over until the last Seal was in their possession.

  “Why didn't you grab the Seal?” Christian asked, breaking the silence.

  Evelyn glanced across at him, then past them all to the stone altar where it still lay.

  “Because it's already been broken. It's useless now,” she said.

  “Which one was it?” he asked.

  “War. The War Seal.”

  Another round of silence ensued.

  Finally, Rhett asked, “If it doesn't matter anymore, why did they leave the birds and the Servants behind?”

  “To slow us down. Maybe to kill a few of us,” Khyamaeus asserted.

  “The Fallen could have maybe achieved that easier if they'd just stayed here themselves,” Rhett countered.

  “Not if they have another, more important agenda,” Khyamaeus said.

  “What agenda would that be?”

  “To meet up with other Fallen in preparation for the battle they believe is coming.”

  “Is there any chance they don't know it's us coming for the Seals, and that they leave these protections in place to deter anyone, human or otherwise?” Rhett inquired.

  Khyamaeus looked thoughtful. “It's a possibility. They probably think the Guardian's will send someone, however, which is why they separated the Seals to begin with. Whoever had the War Seal either decided the others were delaying too long and broke his as a sign that the plan was going forward, or he broke it with the determination to do so would prompt the others into breaking theirs in a timely manner.”

  “How bad is it going to get?” Dragar asked, standing up after a touch to Alex's shoulder. He looked at Khyamaeus.

  “Very bad. Flying will be treacherous if anyone is able to deploy anti-aircraft missiles. We have two more Seals to retrieve. It's going to be a tight squeeze.” He turned from the group and walked back to the altar.

  Rhett coaxed Evelyn to stand. Her legs regained their stability after a moment and she straightened, leaning away from his shoulder.

  “Why are you taking the Seal if it's already broken,” Christian asked, rising when Dragar did.

  “Because the Guardians would not want it found no matter if we are successful or not.” Khyamaeus tucked the Seal into his belt after folding the ancient looking page protectively around the two broken halves of the Seal. “I can carry the others too, if you'd like.”

  Alexandra got to her feet with Dracht's help and spit off to the side. Bedraggled, soaked to the skin, she reached down to the pouch at her waist with shaky fingers and paused.

  “They're gone.”

  †

  “What do you mean, they're gone?”

  “How can they be gone?”

  “Did one of the Servants get them?”

  Questions hurtled through the clearing, one atop the other.

  “They must have fallen out in the water.” Alex, slow to regain color to her cheeks, looked at the pond. Her lungs were on fire and it hurt to breathe. She felt wildly disoriented, balance hanging by a thread.

  Dracht braced her against his body, like he knew. She was thankful for his support. The water looked deceptively still, the surface flat and calm now. A shudder wracked her bones at the thought of going back in to feel around for the Seals.

  “I'll go.” Rhett started removing his belt with deft motions of his fingers.

  Alexandra knew she should offer to do it. Just get over the stabbing pain in her chest and dive in. She wasn't sure how long she could hold her breath again and worried more that she might suck in water if she panicked. The world was too fuzzy, too distorted in the aftermath of her drowning.

  “No, I'll go. I'm not wearing half what you are. It'll take me a lot less time to find them.” Evelyn put a hand out to pause Rhett's fingers on the buckle.

  “I'll go,” she insisted.

  Without waiting for approval or arguments, she took five running steps and dove into the water.

  †

  Slicing beneath the surface, Evelyn was surprised at how clear the water was. The murk , by and large, only inhibited her at long distances. Twenty feet, give or take, was what she judged her visibility to be.

  A large, dark lump sitting on the bottom just ahead had to be the Servant that had pulled Alex under. A stab of anger shot through her. Ignoring it, she scanned the sandy ground, hair floating around her head. Not far from the Servant, several other shadowy shapes lurked. It was hard to tell if they were rocks or something else.

  Swimming closer, using her arms to pull herself through the water, legs kicking behind, she approached the first one.

  Rock.

  She went on to the second. Another rock, this one flatter than the first.

  Closer to the Servant, she could see the features hideously twisted in death, mouth and eyes open, slivers of blood oozing from wounds Dracht must have delivered when he'd gone in after her sister.

  The third lump proved to be the Seals. All three of them, one face down. An inch to the right lay the Servant's hand, fingers curled into the shape of a claw.

  Back in California, Evelyn had seen a few of those scary movies where the villain pops back to life unexpectedly, scaring the pants off the viewers.

  She had one of those wary moments now, half worried the Servant wasn't as dead as he looked. A good swimmer, Evelyn could still only hold her breath for so long. If it grabbed her wrist--

  Just pick up the Seals and get on with it, she chided herself.

  Grasping them all up in both hands, she pulled them off the silty pond floor. The Servant's hand didn't move.

  But an inch wide piece of one of the Seals, the one facing down, fell back to the sand.

  Another Seal broken.

  †

  “It's broken! Another one. Gone. Why are we bothering to risk all our lives if the Seals are going to be useless anyway?” Evelyn emerged from the pond, frustrated like she'd never been, the Seals held like something precious in her outstretched hands. The burden overloaded her, became, finally, too much to bear. Ashrael wasn't going to grant the Templars leave to eat from the Tree of Life if there was nothing left to protect.

  Armor shirt clinging to her skin, hair a wet mop, she stared at each of the faces of those who stared back. More than one showed their surprise at her outburst.

  She had half a mind to smash the remaining Seals right on the ground and stomp them to ash beneath her boot. Suddenly she was sick of the death, the loss, the struggle. Rhett stepped forward, slowly, and cupped his hands over both her own.

  Trapping the
Seals between palms. With care, he took them from her grasp and without looking away, handed them off to Christian who stepped up to accept them.

  They always knew each other's minds somehow, working in sync without saying a word. It was just one more thing to file away in her moment of misery.

  She didn't realize she was sobbing until Rhett gently settled his hands on the outside of her shoulders. He stared into her face, willing her to look at him. Shaking, half furious and half defeated, she met his eyes.

  There she saw the same frustrations, the same weariness, the heartbreak over the losses. She also saw a stubborn determination to do what they must, no matter the cost, come what may. A similar determination that had flared to life in her several times at low points all throughout the mission.

  Just then, she couldn't dredge up one shred of optimism. Any second missiles were going to start pounding the cities into dust. If they hadn't already.

  How many more had to die?

  Christian didn't move far away. He stood behind his brother's shoulder, also staring at her. There was no condemnation, no ridicule, no chiding in his direct, steady gaze. Instead she found compassion and understanding. He wore the bruises and cuts and wounds of battle on his face and elsewhere yet he stood firm, defiant, almost willing her to do the same.

  Giving something of himself in her perilous moment of crisis.

  She felt the same looks from each of the others, especially her sister. Alex was still leaning, figuratively and literally, on Dracht. Dragar and Dracht stood exactly where they had been when she'd emerged, silent, giving their support through tired, faint smiles that conveyed more than words ever could.

  Rhett tightened his grip on her shoulders. “I know it's hard. I know it seems impossible. We're all going through it. Maybe this was an impossible task from the start, but we can't stop now. If we stop, we'll all die. It isn't in my blood to give up, and I suspect it isn't in yours. Believe me when I say each and every one of us have hit this same precipice you're standing on right now at some point since leaving Eden. I have no doubt we'll be there again. Don't give up. We'll make it.”

  Somewhere distant, very far from the hidden sanctuary in the ancient woods, a thunderous boom sounded. It was like an ironic exclamation point on the heels of Rhett's statement. She felt like dissolving into mad laughter or unstoppable tears.

  More death, more destruction.

  Don't give up. We'll make it.

  Smearing her palms over her cheeks, she drew in a breath. Squared her shoulders. Lifted her chin. Reached deeper than she ever had for anything, shoving down the pain of her sister's deaths, ignoring the oncoming fire and more death, to face the daunting idea of continuing on.

  “We should see what Seal it was,” she finally said.

  Smoke curled thicker through the large trunks of the Redwood trees.

  Christian turned the wet, skin-like papers over to expose the broken Seal on the bottom. Alexandra, Dracht, Dragar and Rhett all looked at the surface, though the Templars wouldn't know what the eerie skull with its sunken eyes and gaping mouth meant.

  At the same time, she and Alexandra said, “Death.”

  †

  “All right, so where do we stand?” Rhett eyed the group as a whole. The trip back to the jet had been uneventful.

  Roman stood behind a seat, taking part in the discussion before they got in the air. Smoke curled thicker in the atmosphere from a fire that drew ever closer.

  Rhett thought they needed a game plan from here, a better understanding of what was going on in the world.

  “There's one Seal left. The Summons,” Alex said. Slouched in one of the seats, she looked marginally better but by no means recovered. Her skin had a worrying, waxy appearance that the exercise walking back to the aircraft hadn't cured.

  “The Summons,” Rhett repeated. “That's the one they have to break to call up the Guardians for war, correct?”

  “Yes,” Evelyn answered. She sat next to her sister.

  Dracht, Dragar, Christian and Khyamaeus all stood in the aisle. Bloody, scraped, wet, smelling like smoke.

  But alive.

  “Even if they break it now, it won't work unless all the others have been broken too,” Rhett said, looking between the girls. Making sure he had his facts straight.

  “That's right. It's the only one like that. As long as the Sixth Seal goes first, the other ones will take effect even if they go out of order. The whole thing works better starting off with One after Six, but it's not required,” Khyamaeus added.

  “What's going on out there?” Rhett asked next. He knew he didn't need to specify that he meant what kind of catastrophes were happening around the globe. They knew.

  “Wars have begun, or will within the next few days. Even in the chaos, there is someone always desperate to push a button, someone who thinks their country will come out on top when this is over. Greed and lust for power know no bounds,” Khyamaeus said.

  “Two of the Horsemen have been summoned. War is walking the earth already. We know that from the explosion. We haven't seen enough of the rest of the world to know if Death is here or not,” Alex said.

  “What happens when he gets here?” Rhett asked. He had a good idea.

  “Death has his own armies. The world has been prepped fairly well for his arrival. Not as good as if the bigger Pestilence and Famine had hit first, but there's already been a lot of deaths from the swarm, the rain, the earthquakes and volcanoes,” Alex said.

  “What do these armies look like?” Rhett asked.

  “You'll only see them as flickers out of the corner of your eye,” Khyamaeus said, taking over the explanations. “Shadows. By the time you look, they've usually already claimed their victim. If it's you, you'll rarely ever see them coming.”

  “Well that's reassuring,” Christian muttered.

  Rhett silently agreed. He rubbed the tips of his fingers over the heavy layer of whiskers on his chin. “So no matter what, we've already failed.”

  “It's not failure to have the three Seals in your possession. You've saved lives already,” Khyamaeus said.

  Rhett sat in silence for a moment. “What if we take the Seals we have back and leave the last one? It's only the Summoning Seal. We probably have a better chance of making it back to Eden with what we've got than attempting to grab the last one with what's happening out there.”

  “Except Ashrael said we need to collect them all,” Christian pointed out. He glanced at Khyamaeus. “Where is the last one?”

  “Probably the worst place it could be. Los Angeles.”

  “Is it still on the map?” Rhett couldn't help a moment of grim sarcasm.

  “It has to be one of the prime targets for anyone aiming missiles our way. If it's not gone yet, it will be soon. The good news is that it's not halfway around the world.” Christian slouched back against the seat behind him.

  “Maybe you girls should have Roman fly you back with the Seals we've got. Dracht can go with you. Christian, Dragar and I will go after the last one and meet up with you there when we have it,” Rhett said. He didn't think that plan would fly with anyone, but he introduced it anyway. It seemed so pointless to him to risk all their lives when their next destination was likely to be a huge target for war.

  “We're too close now. I'm not going back to Eden without you,” Evelyn stated plainly.

  Rhett knew it was pointless to argue with her. He showed his palms in surrender. “Then let's get going. Time's wasting.”

  In the back of his mind, the niggling reminder that there was one more death waiting among them played over and over and over.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The earth was a ruin. Scorched patches of black now stood in the place cities once had. Fire, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and the beginnings of war had taken their toll.

  Half the Redwood forest was aflame.

  San Francisco looked like a wreck of metal, the remains of buildings sticking up out of the ground like enormous tombstones, declaring th
e once thriving city a graveyard. No bombs had even been dropped here; it was all wrought from mother nature's hands, volatile quakes bringing the most sturdy high rises crashing down. Fire rampaged along battered rows of homes one roof to the next.

  As they made their way south along the coast of California, flying low under the cloud cover, the occupants of the jet got a bird's eye view of the devastation.

  Survivors scrambled for cover, fleeing in all directions, desperate to get away from the chaos. Except there was nowhere to run. The earth shook constantly. Urban areas had been turned into war zones, stores looted and pillaged. There was no differentiating between poor neighborhoods and the affluent any longer.

  It was a sobering, shocking sight.

  The entire coastline, every city, existed in complete and utter turmoil.

  People lucky enough to get in cars and drive—or those brave enough to try—sped along freeways, mindless of the speed limits or other traffic. Pile ups clogged the arteries of several main thoroughfares.

  Bodies were everywhere. Countless thousands victims of falling brick, a car crash, murder, fire, smoke inhalation.

  Heart attacks. Anything. Everything.

  Although Roman needed to refuel, he pushed it until they reached the outskirts of Los Angeles.

  The city of angels.

  The city of the dead, more like.

  Stunning numbers of casualties lie on the open ground. More had been crushed under collapsed freeways.

  New tears in the ground, some a half mile long, gave clues to earthquakes ranging in the ten-plus size on the Richter scale. A highrise tilted into one of the gaps, windows blown out. Explosions from broken gas lines spread fire through densely packed business districts.

  In a park, cloaked in gloomy skies like the rest of the world, a ring of survivors held hands and prayed on their knees. Three hundred, four hundred strong, and growing in number with every shake, every gunshot, every new disaster to strike their streets.

  By the time Roman set the jet down at a private airstrip adjacent to Coldwater Canyon Park, the group inside the plane were hollow-eyed, sallow cheeked and lethargic.

  After drinking the last of the water, consuming the final rations, they erected their personal armor and gathered their weapons.