The Belial Guard (The Belial Series Book 8)

by R. D. Brady

  Jen pulled up to the guardhouse. The guard recognized them and opened the outer gate. Jen pulled forward. The gate closed behind them, and then the second gate opened.

  Jen pulled forward slowly. “Where are they?”

  “Probably at the house,” Laney said. She closed her eyes and focused on the pack. One by one she found them all. “They’re at the house,” she said with more confidence this time. “They know we’re coming.”

  Jen wound her way down the half-mile gravel drive to the house. When Henry bought the property, the trees and bushes along the road had pretty much taken over the drive, but he had had them hacked back. Even now, it looked like keeping them at bay would be a full-time job.

  Jen pulled to a stop at the white hydrangea bushes that lined the front porch. The house was an old purple farmhouse with four bedrooms. Henry had wanted to paint it, but Laney said she liked the purple and yellow shutters. It was definitely unusual, which Laney thought fit the occupants.

  Henry had retrofitted the inside to meet the cats’ needs. Bedding had been placed, as well as water fountains specially designed for the cats. The guards brought in food twice a day. Out beyond the house was a large fenced enclosure that the cats could be placed in when someone needed to be on the grounds.

  Cleo stepped out of the house and walked down the porch steps. Yoni had dropped her off this morning. Laney got out, as did Jen, but Lou and Rolly stayed in the car. Cleo rubbed against Jen, then Laney.

  “Hey, girl,” Laney said, leaning down to run a hand through the cat’s pelt.

  The rest of the pack appeared one by one from the house, lining up along the long porch. There were twenty-five of them, and they were an incredible sight. All were black Javan leopards, except for two, the youngest members of the pride. One of the young cubs was all white, with the most incredible blue eyes—Laney had named her Snow—and the other cub, Tiger, was yellow with green eyes. Both color combinations were unheard of for leopards; Laney was pretty sure they occurred as a result of the human DNA in their system.

  The leopards had been created by Anthony Ruggio. These twenty-five cats represented the two generations created after Cleo’s pack. Like Cleo, it was believed these cats had Fallen blood mixed with their own blood, and that a special procedure had been conducted to replace the cells in their brain with human brain cells. The same procedure had been done with lab mice, but the difference was that the mice were killed right after those experiments.

  The cats were initially bred primarily to offer a hunting challenge to a Fallen named Amar Patel. But once he was killed—by Laney—Dr. Ruggio decided to sell the cats to the highest bidder.

  At least, that was the plan—until Lou, Danny and Rolly found them.

  And as much as Laney hated that the kids were going through a tough time now, she also knew that, without those kids, they would never have found and rescued these cats. With everything going on with the Fallen, researching Cleo’s past had taken a back seat. The kids were the only reason these cats were still alive.

  Rolly opened his door, stepped out, and cast a nervous glance at the cats. “Is it okay?”

  Laney looked at the cats, reading their moods and their thoughts. My God. She stumbled back and smiled, trying to hold her tears back. “Yes. It’s okay.”

  Rolly ducked his head back inside the car, and after a few seconds Lou’s door opened.

  She stepped out, looking at the cats. “They’re beautiful,” she said softly, tears swimming in her eyes. Lou always seemed to be on the verge of tears lately.

  Lou stepped away from the car, and Cleo walked up to her. Lou ran a hand through her pelt with a smile. Rolly walked around the car to stand at Lou’s side, and Cleo rubbed against his belly as well. “Hey, girl,” Rolly said.

  Then, as if on cue, the cats began to walk slowly down the porch stairs.

  Jen looked from the cats to Laney. “Uh, Laney? What’s going on?”

  Laney linked her arm with Jen’s. “Just watch.”

  The cats walked over to Lou and Rolly. They arranged themselves in a semicircle in front of them, then all stood perfectly still.

  “Laney?” Rolly called nervously.

  “It’s okay. I promise.”

  Cleo stepped forward so that she was just in front of the rest of the cats. Then, as one, they all bent their front legs and lowered their heads.

  Laney recognized the show of respect, and felt a catch at the back at her throat. “They know what you two risked to help them,” she said. “They’re showing you their respect, their loyalty. They’re saying thank you. And that you will always be a member of their pack.”

  The cats rose. Cleo walked to Lou and rubbed her head against Lou’s chest. Then Snow bolted forward and jumped up to lick Lou’s face. Tiger did the same to Rolly.

  Lou fell down, and laughter burst from her even as tears streamed down her cheeks. Snow buried her head in Lou’s chest, purring loudly. Lou smiled and buried her face in the cub’s pelt.

  “It’s going to be all right,” Jen said.

  And for the first time since everything had happened to Lou, Laney believed it just might be.

  CHAPTER 4

  Malama Island, Hawaii

  The morning meditation was wrapping up. Aaliyah breathed deep, searching for the calm that had been eluding her for weeks.

  It still eluded her.

  So she went through the motions of breathing in, holding her breath, and breathing out while her mind scrambled to figure out what the priestess was up to. Ever since the incident with the Companion Killers, the priestess had been conducting more and more business behind closed doors.

  The priestess had also started having Noriko come to the temple once a week for instruction—and just the thought of Noriko near the priestess made Aaliyah feel ill. But she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to reach out to Delaney McPhearson, but she couldn’t expect the woman to jump at her every whim. She was the ring bearer—surely she was busy. And what if she didn’t see what Aaliyah saw in the priestess? No. Until she had more, Aaliyah couldn’t reach out to her. She needed to find some proof first.

  The gong rang out, signaling the end of the meditation. Aaliyah opened her eyes. The two hundred people surrounding her smiled and spoke quietly with one another while gathering their mats. Aaliyah watched them all, wishing she could go back to a time when she, too, believed fully in their way of life and the righteousness of the priestess’s guidance.

  Honu Keiki were the direct descendants of the people of Mu, the world’s first civilization. They had lived their lives according to the tenets of their ancestors—as one with nature and with one another. Greed, competition—these things were not a part of their lifestyles, and never had been. And anyone who could not live by the tenets of the Honu Keiki was encouraged to find another path.

  At least, that’s how things used to be. Everything changed when the priestess took over.

  The gong sounded two more times, and everyone stopped what they were doing to look with curiosity toward the platform at the front of the meditation square.

  Vanessa, the head of the Guard, stood there. Strong, tall, her dark hair pulled tightly back from her face, she scanned the crowd, looking for any threat. Next to her stood the priestess, looking beneficent in comparison. She was wrapped in white robes, golden bracelets encircling her arms. Her dark hair was pulled loosely back to give everyone a clear view of her face and her darkly rimmed eyes. Standing with the sun hitting her just right, she looked like a goddess of old brought to life.

  Aaliyah knew her appearance was deceptive.

  The priestess, formerly known as Xia, had been the head of Honu Keiki for fourteen years. Before that, Honu Keiki had received guidance only sparingly from their priestess and from the Naacal, the High Council of six priests, of which Aaliyah was one. Their roles had been to provide beneficent guidance rather than to rule. But this priestess had changed all that, further cementing her role as ruler with each day that passed. Now she made decision
s without even consulting the Naacal, never mind the people. And the changes had been so gradual in coming that most of the members hadn’t even realized what had occurred. For a long time, Aaliyah didn’t really notice the changes either.

  But the last few months had made everything crystal clear in Aaliyah’s eyes. The priestess had staged a successful coup of Honu Keiki, wresting control from the people and consolidating it in her own hands. And despite the fact that the priestess had sent the Guard to help the ring bearer defeat the Companion Killers, Aaliyah believed the priestess had been working with the Companion Killers in some way. She just didn’t know how.

  Or why.

  Now, Aaliyah waited with trepidation to hear what new change the priestess had planned for them.

  A light tap on her shoulder caused her to turn. She looked up at Kai, her best friend, whose deep brown eyes reflected her concern. She and Kai were the longest surviving members of the Naacal, but their friendship extended beyond even those two decades. Even with the gray hair beginning to appear above Kai’s ears, and the wrinkles that grew deeper when he smiled, Aaliyah still saw the strong young vibrant man she had always known and secretly loved.

  He slipped his hand into hers as the priestess began to speak.

  “Good morning.” The priestess extended her arms in greeting.

  A rush of good wishes were shouted back at her.

  The priestess smiled, and Aaliyah’s stomach curdled. “I know there have been some concerns surrounding the events of the last few months. That there have been rumors about violence committed by our members. I am here to assure you that the violence that was perpetuated was not committed by our people, the true Honu Keiki. It was committed by those in the outside world. We did, however, aid in bringing an end to that violence.”

  And right there was a perfect example of why the priestess shouldn’t be trusted. The Companion Killers were former members of Honu Keiki, but few knew that, and the priestess apparently didn’t think the rest of her people deserved to know the truth.

  The priestess’s voice took on a somber tone. “Much was asked of our Guard who participated in this mission, and they acted with bravery and honor.”

  A burst of applause erupted from the crowd. Aaliyah and Kai did not join in.

  The priestess raised her hands, and the people quieted. “You have also probably heard the rumors that the ring bearer was involved in those activities. Sadly, that is also true. She has been called into duty. We fought on her side and prevailed, but as you know, her arrival signals that the world is moving into a dangerous phase.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd. In the lore of Honu Keiki, the appearance of the ring bearer always heralded the beginning of a time of strife and turmoil.

  “But I have good news for you today,” the priestess continued. “We are about to embark on a new and exciting journey together. I have foreseen what is coming and have found a way to keep us sheltered from the human storm. Now more than ever, we must stand united and trust the path laid out in front of us. We will move past this dark time and return to our way of life. The way of life.”

  The priestess scanned the crowd. For a second her gaze caught Aaliyah’s—and Aaliyah could swear it hardened just a little. “Our way of life is the true way. We will let no one destroy it.” The priestess stared into Aaliyah’s eyes, and Aaliyah’s pulse raced. “No one.”

  Then the priestess lifted her eyes to the rest of the crowd, a smile gracing her face. Aaliyah felt lightheaded.

  “For now, though, be assured that plans are in the works, and in the next few weeks you will be made aware of them. You may find that some of the things asked of you will be difficult. But have faith that in the end, all will be as it should be. Be peaceful. Be well.”

  Applause followed the priestess off the platform. People turned to one another with excited chatter about what the priestess had meant by all of that. But Kai and Aaliyah just turned and made their way out of the crowd, not a word spoken between them.

  Kai stepped into a small copse of palm trees, pulling Aaliyah in with him. “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”

  “No.”

  It made no sense. Honu Keiki was already isolated from the world. They lived on the island of Malama, off the coast of Maui. They had very little contact with anyone who was not a member. In fact, most members of the group had never even spoken with anyone outside of Honu Keiki, never mind actually leaving the island. And that isolation—chosen deliberately, in order to keep them from being corrupted—had kept them safe. It had kept them from being pulled away from their oneness with nature, from being distracted from the rightness of their path. Honu Keiki were the direct descendants of the Children of the Law of One. And their goal in life was simple: to live a good life.

  But the priestess, she cared little for that. And now she had plans for them. And that didn’t just worry Aaliyah; it terrified her.

  Aaliyah shook her head, remembering the priestess’s eyes boring into her own.

  “What harm is she talking about?” Kai asked. “And how is she going to protect us from it?”

  “I don’t know. But I think, for all our sakes, we need to find out. And soon.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Davos, Switzerland

  Elisabeta Roccorio lay on a chaise lounge in the ten thousand square foot chalet that dated to 1764. Through the wall-to-wall windows of her bedroom, she had a perfect view of the Swiss Alps. Her part of the valley was isolated from all other chalets and skiers, so the snow fell undisturbed on the long valley, without a single sign of human life. Up above, the sun poked through the clouds, and the snow sparkled where the light touched it.

  It was a beautiful scene, and Elisabeta was sick to death of it. She’d seen nothing but this idyllic winter wonderland for the last half year. The chalet was comfortable, she supposed—it was styled from the baroque period, with lots of bulbous dressers, ancient mirrors, and ornate, heavy drapes reaching from floor to ceiling in all forty-two rooms—but Elisabeta was not impressed. After all, her family home in Italy had sixty rooms and none of this horrible weather.

  Besides, she was Samyaza, the leader of the Fallen. Over her incarnations she had spent time in much more sumptuous surroundings. She had been a pharaoh in Egypt where her every whim was met, a tsar is Russia, an emperor in China. In comparison, a lonely chalet in Switzerland just didn’t cut it. Of this was the modern idea of luxury, then people in this era had no idea what they were missing.

  In today’s world, people often spoke about the power the government held over their lives, and Elisabeta struggled not to laugh out loud. These people didn’t know what real power was. They had no idea. As tsar, she had people brought in to fight to the death for scraps of food simply for entertainment. She’d had people boiled alive as punishment for tiny transgressions in ancient Rome.

  And those were only two examples. She had thousands of incidents stored in her memories. And in most cases, the displays of violence had nothing to do with anger, or retribution, or justice. She had done them simply because she could.

  Now that was power.

  And she had every intention of getting that kind of power back in this current lifetime. I just have to get one small obstacle out of my way.

  She turned her gaze away from her portrait-inspiring view. At least the self-imposed isolation had been fruitful. Her philanthropic endeavors had increased, her businesses had expanded—as had her bank account—and she had made successful inroads into multiple governments. Not to mention all the plans she had laid for her future endeavors.

  And now she was on the cusp of her greatest accomplishment, one that would make the rest pale in comparison.

  With a smile, she reached over and pressed the intercom. “Bring me some champagne.”

  She pushed off the lounge and walked to the cold glass overlooking the grounds. A friend had lent her the home; she’d claimed she was making some life changes and needed a secluded spot for quiet and reflection. And no one
had been able to find her—not even the ring bearer, although Elisabeta had no doubt the woman was moving heaven and earth trying to track her down. Elisabeta’s resources far outshone those of the ring bearer or even her brother, and she had no intention of being found until she chose to step out into the spotlight.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” Elisabeta said without turning.

  The maid was reflected in the glass window. She wore a black dress with a starched white apron. She pushed the cart into the room. “Ma’am? Would you like me to pour you a glass?”

  “Yes. Then leave it on the side table.”

  The woman removed the champagne bottle from the ice bucket, poured a glass, and left it next to the settee before leaving.

  Elisabeta spared the outside one last look before returning to the chaise lounge. After a quick glance at the clock, she pulled out her phone and dialed.

  The call was answered quickly by one of her most competent lieutenants, Raol. “Yes, Samyaza.”

  “You have arrived?”

  “Yes, Samyaza, just a short while ago.”

  “And you are ready?”

  “Yes, my liege. I am just waiting for your go-ahead.”

  “Well, you have it. As soon as an opportunity presents itself, I expect you to take it. Contact me when it is done.”

  “Yes, Samyaza.”

  Elisabeta disconnected the call without replying and settled back into the lounge. Placing the phone on the side table, she picked up the champagne glass. With a smile, she lifted it up. “To you, Delaney McPhearson. May you get everything you so richly deserve.”