Seduced by Lies (The Seduced Saga Book 4)

by Alex Lux

  He shook his head, examining me with his hands and eyes, maybe to make sure all my parts were still there. "You turned into a bear. I told you. It's dangerous."

  "We'd be dead if I hadn't turned," I reminded him.

  Derek's fierce expression softened a fraction as he took my hand. "How'd you learn this? Who taught you?"

  His hands, so strong and large, felt good. "No one taught me."

  "Then how?"

  "I just turned." I tried to find the words for something I didn't understand myself. "I wanted to save you, and I turned. I didn't even think about it."

  "How'd it feel?"

  "It felt…" I paused to think about it. "It felt like breathing. And how can I not breathe?"

  His face creased in worry, and he stared through me, lost in a dark thought I couldn't interpret. I thought about how easy it had been to shift, and how hard it had been to shift back. Did Derek know that the bear hadn't wanted to release me?

  I was about to tell him, when Sam's scream pulled us out of our conversation.

  "No. Drake. No." Father Patrick had his arm around her, and they both looked desperate. "He's fading. He's… He's…" her words melted away, replaced by trembling lips and shaking hands.

  Father Patrick turned to Alaric. "Will he make it?"

  "The blood is weak in him," said the bishop. "He needs more."

  "What blood?" asked Derek.

  Father Patrick ignored him, deep in thought.

  "What blood?" asked Derek again, louder, his hand clenching mine too tightly.

  Father Patrick faced us, then, his eyes sunken into shadows. "Blood of the Nephilim."

  We were both at a loss for words. The Nephilim. Werewolves were designed to kill the Nephilim.

  "There is nothing I can do," said Alaric.

  Father Patrick turned back to Sam and Drake. "There is one thing. We must call on Drake's father."

  NINETEEN

  You Think I Am Easier

  SAM

  Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?

  — William Shakespeare, Hamlet

  A BREEZE RUFFLED my hair, the scent of jasmine tickling my nose as I closed my mind to the sounds of the school and thoughts of those around me. When the brother I never knew I had, the Seeker, saved my life and died, he passed on his powers to me. It's how we'd identified more paranormal kids in order to help them learn their powers without exploitation. And it's how I was now trying to seek the one person I needed to find more than anyone in the world.

  Drake's father, Beleth.

  My Seeker powers were different than my mindreading abilities. I couldn't read Beleth's mind—angels, it seemed, are immune to that—but I could find him by his unique paranormal signature. He'd been genetically modified by Rent-A-Kid, enhanced to be something more than just angel. So I could see him, like I could see others, as a movie playing in my mind.

  A lighthouse sends off its pulsing light as it stands tall and lonely on the small rocky island surrounded by the turbulent sea. Waves crash against stone, lightning tears bright, jagged strips into the sky as thunder pounds out its anger.

  Beleth sits in the lighthouse, his face passive as he watches the storm.

  I call to him mentally. "Drake needs you, Beleth."

  He doesn't reply, doesn't move, just holds his too-still posture, his muscles coiled tight under the black tribal tattoos spread across his skin.

  I can't give up. "Beleth! Beleth!"

  My voice is full of fear, full of desperation, but he doesn't respond. "Your son needs you. He's hurt. He's—"

  "Shh…" whispers Beleth. "Someone's coming."

  I assume he's talking to me, that he heard my pleas.

  The door cracks open and a young woman walks in, her long dark hair dripping rainwater. She looks up at Beleth, an intimidating sight for most people, and her eyes widen. "Oh, excuse me," she says with a lilting accent I don't recognize. "My boat was caught in the storm."

  Beleth doesn't move, his eyes locked on the woman. "You may wait here until the weather changes."

  She wrings out her hair leaving a small puddle by her feet. "Thank you." When she approaches the fireplace the flames seem to grow as if alive, and the shadow she casts on the floor moves with the light, growing larger than it should.

  Something's wrong. I try prying into the girl's mind but I can't. Either I'm too far away or…

  I call out to Beleth again, but he ignores me as he stands to pull off his long coat.

  He hands it to her, and as she takes it, his right arm extends into a thick black blade. And he stabs her in the stomach, piercing her to the core.

  I scream.

  She gasps, looking down at her wound, shocked. Then her eyes flash yellow, and she chuckles in a voice very different from the one she'd been using. "How'd you know?"

  "Because I drew you here," Beleth says.

  The girl stumbles back, her body weak. Her flesh starts to turn grey.

  "That's why you came to this tower," the girl says as realization settles on her. She falls to the ground, and cracks start to rip through her skin. A red light, a fire, glows from within. The flesh falls off in chunks, replaced by skin that looks like rock and magma. The girl’s eyes burst with light, and her face shatters, revealing a monster. The beast stands. "But coming alone shall be your undoing."

  It charges, hitting Beleth, crashing them into the wall. They break through and fall towards the raging sea floor.

  I cry out again. "Beleth. Beleth, Drake is dying. You must come!"

  They crash into the water—

  And I was pulled back into my own mind, lying on the hard ground as rain fell through the leaves of the weeping willow, soaking my clothes. I tried to reach out, to find him again, to no avail.

  I ran back into the school, ignoring the rain as it pelted my face, and found Father Patrick, Rose and Derek in the priest's office.

  Rose stood and ran to the bathroom, bringing back a towel. "What happened?"

  I thanked her and dried my hair as I told them what I saw.

  "If a demon is after him," Father Patrick said as he brewed me a cup of tea, "he may be unable to help us."

  Images of Drake filled my mind, of his wounds, his pain, how weak he was becoming as the poison in his blood killed him slowly. I pushed the thoughts away before grief took over and destroyed me.

  "What do we do next? What happens with Ryder?" asked Rose.

  A silence fell on the room.

  Derek growled. "We do to him what he did to Drake." When I flinched at his words, his face softened. "What he tried to do."

  "We can't." Rose said. "Curtis would never—"

  "Curtis," interrupted Derek, "is dead."

  "Let's not decide in haste," Father Patrick said.

  I pushed their thoughts away, too burdened by my own pain to feel theirs. Though they disagreed on the next step, I knew they were all concerned about Drake. This was our family, our best friends. I'd already contacted Luke and Lucy and Brad and let them know what happened. Luke and Lucy were off traveling before they started their training at IPI and Brad, Drake's best friend since childhood, was in Africa interviewing paranormals there for his hugely popular series of articles on his blog.

  They'd all be here as soon as they could. That would complete our little tribe. Not for goodbyes, but so we could figure out a way to save him.

  Still, something had to be done now. We couldn't keep waiting. "I want to speak to Ryder."

  "Sam, it may be unwise," said Father Patrick.

  "I want to speak to him," I said again, more firmly this time.

  The old priest nodded with a sigh.

  We walked as a group down to the basement where Ryder was chained up and guarded. We couldn't risk any of the kids getting too close to him, or him using them to escape. I patted my pocket, making sure I still had the knife I'd taken after they pulled Ryder in. I wouldn't give him a chance to hurt anyone I loved again.

  Tammy and Dean looked fierce as they stood
guard by the door, glaring at the bishop, Alaric, who was no doubt keeping watch over his partner in crime.

  When we entered the small room, Ryder looked knocked out, but as I stepped toward him, he opened his eyes.

  "Miss me already?" He grinned.

  I wanted to rip that smile off his face when I thought of what he did to Drake. Instead, I took a breath and reached into his mind. I couldn't hear his thoughts, but I sensed calm, even peace.

  "Will those hold him?" I asked, gesturing at the shackles around his writs that bound him to the floor.

  "I could not break them," Alaric said.

  That'll have to do.

  I turned to face Ryder, ready to judge him for his crimes, letting some of my rage show on my face. "Why kill paranormals?"

  "Not paranormals. Just Nephilim, mostly," he said without any regret or repentance.

  "Curtis wasn't Nephilim," I said.

  "I didn't kill Curtis."

  I tried to read him, but couldn't. His face betrayed nothing. "Liar."

  He laughed, and my blood boiled.

  "Why attack Drake?" The pain leaked from my voice, cracking me.

  Ryder spoke as if talking about what he made for dinner. "I killed him before he could kill you. You should be thanking me."

  My head nearly exploded. "He's not dead!"

  "Not yet."

  The infection spreading through his body would kill him, but I wasn't going to let that happen. "Drake wouldn't hurt anyone."

  "Of course, of course. Most of him is still human. And because of me, he'll die that way."

  "What's wrong with being half angel?" I tried to remain calm, to get information rather than react. But. It. Was. So. Hard.

  "Angels are, how should I put it…"

  "Angels are dangerous," said Father Patrick.

  "Yes," agreed Ryder. "They don't like humans very much—well, except for the taste."

  "What taste?" But before he could answer I heard Father Patrick's thoughts. The taste of human blood.

  I shuddered.

  Ryder laughed again, enjoying my ignorance. "You married death itself, girl. Angels are the true vampires, only much worse."

  My body shook, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to run to him and punch him in the face. But we weren't allowed to get that close, for good reason. He was faster and stronger than most of us—especially those of us with no extraordinary strength.

  I'd get nothing more useful from him, and my patience was frayed to the end. "Let's go," I said to Rose, Derek and Father Patrick. The bishop sat down, and I nodded to him. "You too."

  He bent his head. "Certainly. But first, please, I must know," he turned to Ryder, "why attack without the council's permission?"

  Ryder shrugged. "There's a beast killing paranormals."

  "And you would have blamed it for the murder," finished Alaric.

  "He is the beast," I said.

  Alaric faced her. "I must ask that you hand Ryder over to me. He must be tried for his crimes."

  "He will be," I assured him.

  "Sam." Father Patrick put a hand on my shoulder. "The church should handle this."

  Derek stepped forward. "The church has done enough."

  "We don't know the extent of his crimes," said Alaric.

  Derek fisted his hand. "He killed Curtis."

  "And attacked Drake," I reminded them.

  "And he killed two more," added Rose. "Curtis' cousin and a girl."

  "He claims he's not the Beast." The bishop adjusted his cross, looking desperate to believe that lie.

  "No," Derek said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "He's a fucking fairy. I'm sure he meant to bring Drake some candy."

  "No one is debating whether he attacked Drake," Father Patrick said. "But he may not have killed the others."

  I could hear the priest's thoughts, and I knew how much grief Drake's injuries caused him. His commitment to right action astonished me, and I was not as strong or as good as him. I'd rather see Ryder die for his crimes right here and now.

  "And he may not have killed Drake," Rose said for my benefit.

  Ryder barked out a laugh, halting the argument. He pointed at us. "I love how peaceful you people are. You think the Church should judge me. You think I'm a fairy. You're just so nice. And Drake, Drake didn't even fight back. He was so easy, like snapping a twig. So helpful—"

  And then I snapped, spun around, and threw my knife at Ryder's face, ready for it to impact his brain and kill him instantly. I knew in that moment I would not feel bad for Ryder's death.

  But he didn't die. He caught the knife just as it was about to embed itself in his skull. "Thank you," he said.

  In less time than it took to blink, Ryder escaped his chains using the knife. I couldn't even tell how, but before any of us could even move, he dashed forward and grabbed me, holding the knife to my neck. "Like I said, so helpful."

  My only thought in that moment was of Ana. She couldn't lose both parents.

  Alaric stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Ryder, no."

  Ryder looked at Rose. "Open the door."

  She hesitated, looking to me. What do I do? Her thoughts screamed.

  "Don't," I said. This monster could not escape to hurt more people.

  Ryder slid the knife across my neck so gently I almost didn't feel the bite of the blade. "She's not her husband. Not Nephilim. I'll let her go if you do what I say."

  Rose froze, her eyes pleading with me, then opened the door for him.

  Ryder pushed me forward, still with an iron grip around me. "Get in front of me. Everyone."

  Derek's eyes glowed with his wolf, but he couldn't do anything without risking my life. None of them could.

  How could I have been so stupid? Because of me, everything was at risk. All of the students, my daughter, my husband.

  We walked out the door and upstairs as Ryder pushed me forward, blood trickling down my neck.

  Through the busy halls, students stopped, stunned, fear on their faces, as they registered what was happening.

  Derek pushed the front door open, and Ryder pulled me outside, walking backwards. "Don't move," he warned everyone.

  "Let me go," I begged. "I have a little girl who needs me."

  "Later." He started to pull me into the woods as he yelled to my friends, who didn't know what to do, their thoughts desperate and confused. "Don't follow me, and you'll get her back."

  "I'll find you," I hissed to him as we entered the forest.

  "You will," he said, his mouth grazing against my ear. "When I return to finish your husband, you will."

  I elbowed him in the stomach and twisted around, disarming him and taking the knife. A move I learned in martial arts classes growing up.

  He laughed. "You're quick…"

  I lunged forward, committed to the kill, but he dodged and kicked, launching me to the ground. I fell hard, dropping the knife.

  "…but weak," he finished, walking over me to pick up the knife. He kneeled to pin me to the ground and held the knife over my chest, about to stab me. "I'm sorry," he said. "But this'll be easier—for the both of us."

  A tear leaked out of my eyes, and I thought of my daughter, my husband, my little family. As he swung down, I steeled myself for death, when a tattoo-covered hand caught Ryder's and pulled his arm up.

  The Lycan looked up, stunned.

  And in the shadows, I saw…

  "An angel," whispered Ryder.

  "Your angel of death," Beleth said.

  TWENTY

  Let Us Go In Together

  DEREK

  Let us go in together,

  And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.

  The time is out of joint—O cursèd spite,

  That ever I was born to set it right!

  Nay, come, let's go together.

  — William Shakespeare, Hamlet

  THE MOMENT RYDER pulled Sam into the woods I moved in, fighting the desire to shift and hunt, worried I would put Sam in greater d
anger if I did.

  When the ground below me rumbled and shook and Ryder's body flew out of the woods as if he were a doll, I let go of all restraint. Sam was safe. Whatever had just happened, Ryder was alone.

  Now I could kill the bastard.

  I lunged, shifting into wolf as I did, body filling with the power of my shifter form, filled with the magic of my people, but my attack came to a halt as a black shadow fell from the sky and landed in front of Ryder.

  A man wrapped in shadows with wings black as ink.

  A dark angel.

  Beleth.

  He extended his arm toward Ryder, the hand lengthening into a black blade like obsidian. Ryder's hand turned to a claw, catching the blade and knocking it away just in time to avoid being eviscerated by the irate angel.

  Ryder completed his shift, jumping to bite Beleth with a mouth full of sharp teeth, but Beleth grabbed him by the throat and pulled him into the sky, disappearing into the night.

  My body shook with the adrenaline of a hunt denied me as I turned back to my human form. Rose, Alaric and Father Patrick joined me, all of us staring mouth agape into the sky. My mind couldn't quite comprehend the fact that this magnificent being was Drake's father. That Drake had angel blood coursing through his body.

  As we watched, a shadow fell from the sky, crashing down into the earth, leaving a small crater in its wake. Ryder, in human form, cried out in pain, his bones askew, some breaking through his skin and leaving pools of blood around him.

  Even as he screamed from the pain his body worked to heal, reforming his bones.

  Before I could shift and attack, Beleth once again landed in front of the Lycan, his hand shaping itself into a giant scythe.

  Sam ran from the woods, a trail of blood leaking down her throat. Drake would never forgive me if I let this asshole hurt his wife. I growled as Sam screamed. "He tried to kill Drake!"

  Beleth nodded, his black eyes unflinching, his body a mass of lithe rock as he raised his scythe over Ryder.