Acca

by Christina Bauer

  Lincoln stands beside me, his mouth thinning to a line. “Yes.”

  “Should we run for the dock?”

  “No, they’re thrax. They’ll catch up to us in the woods. Better to face them here.”

  My eyes almost bug out of my head. I don’t know how Lincoln knows who’s watching us. Still, I have no doubt that he’s spot-on about them being thrax. It’s all part of the expert-hunter thing he’s got going on. I clasp the straps of my backpack more tightly.

  Crap on a cracker. Thrax.

  Lincoln kisses my cheek. “Let’s see who’s lurking, eh?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  Lincoln and I move to stand at the top of the stairs leading to Prescott’s office. We both look out over the clearing. It looks like a bunch of grass and trees to me. Lincoln focuses on one particular section, though. “We can see you, you know.”

  Actually, I can’t see dick, but I’m not volunteering that fact.

  A few long seconds pass before Blaze strides out from the exact spot that Lincoln had been inspecting. Once again, I decide that Blaze could be handsome if it weren’t for the oversized attitude and man-bun. He strides across the clearing and pauses at the base of the stairs. I really, really, really want to jump on his head in a pile-driver-style slam, but it’s probably better to take Lincoln’s lead on this. My guy has more experience with the thrax, after all.

  Although, the pile driver would feel really good. This Blaze guy is a creep.

  “Greetings.” Blaze only addresses Lincoln, which pisses me off.

  Lincoln’s stance stays still as stone. “What do you want?”

  “Information. I’m told you’re some kind of angelic warrior.”

  At those words, a wave of worry moves through me. Our amulets hide our true identity, even from thrax. In other words, there’s only one way that Blaze could know about Lincoln being part angel. Harper. My muscles lock with a mixture of rage and fear. “How do you know that?” Blaze ignores me. I’m hating the guy more by the second. “I asked you a question.”

  He still ignores me. The guy is so getting extra pain because of that.

  “Answer her,” orders Lincoln.

  Blaze doesn’t bother to look my way when he replies. “I have my sources.”

  “Don’t play coy. What did you do with Harper?”

  “Concerned about your fellow student?”

  “Just answer the question, knob head.”

  “She’s right here.” Blaze waves his hand. The other four Acca warriors step out from the woods. All of them still wear their black body armor with the Acca insignia on their chests. Harper limps along in the center of group. My heart cracks at the sight of her. Harper’s face is tear-stained, and her jacket’s been torn almost in half. One of the Acca warriors holds a knife to her throat.

  “This girl says she saw an angelic warrior.” Blaze points to Lincoln. “I’m guessing you’re a thrax who’s hiding under some kind of charm.” He nods toward me. “And you’re his thane.”

  What a dick. Thanes are little better than slaves. “I am so not his thane.”

  Blaze chuckles like that was a really cute thing for a little girl like me to say. “You two must be a wayward demon patrol, perhaps from the House of Gurith?”

  Much as I hate to admit it, that’s not a bad guess. Lincoln’s mother Octavia is from Gurith. It’s one of the few thrax houses that train women warriors. Even so, Gurith is one of the lesser houses. It’s about a dozen levels below Rixa, which sets Lincoln’s at the top of that particular pile. A small smile rounds my lips. Wait until we take these enchanted amulets off and show Blaze who we really are. He’ll wet his battle armor.

  I bite my lower lip to keep my yap shut. I’m dying to spill the beans.

  If Lincoln’s anxious to share, he doesn’t show it. I swear, my guy could play poker professionally. When he speaks again, Lincoln’s voice is super-calm. “It’s true. I can lay claim to the House of Gurith.”

  Technically, my guy can lay claim to every thrax House in Antrum, but that’s neither here nor there.

  “Then, let’s talk, one thrax to another.” Blaze gestures to where Harper shivers between the hulking Acca warriors. “This human says you’re here on some kind of quest. Now what could that be?” Blaze taps his chin dramatically before pointing to my backpack. “I’m guessing you have taken the codex from Prescott’s office. You stole our Earl’s property. You’re rebel sympathizers.”

  I raise my hand. “Define rebel.”

  “The true ruling house of Antrum is not Rixa, but Acca. Aldred is our right and proper King. Anyone who declares otherwise supports a rebellion. As a lesser house, you would do well to align yourselves with us, here and now.”

  Meaning, he wants us to just hand over the codex. Like that’ll happen.

  “No,” says Lincoln.

  A muscle flexes along Blaze’s square jawline. I decide that he has a head shaped like a marshmallow. “You would deny the true King?”

  I roll my eyes. “Come on. Rixa took the throne like five hundred years ago. You really need to adapt to reality.”

  “Perhaps you’re the one who needs to change,” says Blaze slowly.

  “Let me clear things up. For the record, we’re totally in league with Rixa. And you’re not getting your hands on this codex. Like ever.”

  Lincoln’s voice takes on a deadly tone. “Let me share with you what happens next. You’re going to let us go. After that, you’re turning yourselves in to the nearest Pulpitum to admit your crimes and plead for mercy.”

  Now, this is why my guy is total king material. My first reaction was to squish Blaze into a bloody pulp. Lincoln wants to give him and his cronies a chance to turn themselves in. Totes noble.

  Blaze slides his hands lower on his hips. My brows lift. That’s a classic thrax battle move, right there. Their body armor hides about a dozen mini knives and nunchuks by their upper thighs. “I’ll give you one more chance, Gurith. There are five of us and two of you. Do you really think you can win?” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Now, hand over the codex and join our side.”

  Lincoln and I share a long look. I know what he’s thinking because it’s the same thing that I am.

  That’s the stupidest request in the history of ever.

  We’re about to say just that when Prescott wanders into the clearing. I blink, not sure what I’m seeing.

  Prescott’s here, really?

  Things are about to get interesting again. And in my life, that’s bad news.

  22

  Maybe I’m seeing things. And by things, I mean Prescott strolling into an almost battleground with Acca. Just to be sure the headmaster’s really here, I pinch myself. Hard.

  Aaaaaaaand… Nope.

  Prescott’s still standing around.

  Bleugh.

  I eye the headmaster carefully. His usually pristine white shirt is streaked in filth. In his arms, he lovingly cradles what looks like a clump of dirt. Pure joy lights up his Ken-doll-style features.

  This is such bad news.

  Why? There’s only one reason Prescott would look super-happy about dirt. That clump of earth must hold Lucifer’s coin. Their dig was successful.

  Prescott rushes up to Blaze. “There you are! I’ve found a cache of the most amazing angelic artifacts. You must come and see.”

  “Headmaster Prescott!” Harper waves manically from her spot between the two Acca warriors. “Over here!” It’s not the smartest of moves, considering one of the warriors has a knife against her throat. Harper could stab herself in the jugular by mistake.

  “Whoa there, Harper. Let me get his attention for you.” I make a circle with my thumb and pointer finger, jam the shape into my mouth, and whistle super-loudly.

  “What?” asks Prescott.

  “Harper is here.”

  He’s still not looking at her, though. He stares between Lincoln and me. “Why aren’t both of you in class?”

  “Because Harper has a knife against her t
hroat.” It’s also why I’m standing here versus kicking ass, but there’s no point overloading Prescott with details. The man is so obsessed with his Lady there’s hardly room in his brain for much else.

  At last, Prescott spots Harper and gasps. “What’s all this?”

  Blaze speaks without breaking his eye-lock with Lincoln. “You need to leave, Headmaster.”

  “Absolutely not.” Prescott wags his finger at Blaze. “We had a clear understanding. I would search for the coin while you stayed on your side of the island. No interfering with my students. Blast it all, I even hid your silly codex for you. I’ve more than kept up my side of the bargain. Now, tell your men to set Harper loose.”

  My eyes widen with surprise. So far, I haven’t exactly been a huge fan of Prescott. That said, I’m pleased that he’s trying to do the right thing here. At least so far.

  “No.” Blaze snaps his fingers. “Secure her.”

  Instantly, the Acca warriors get busy tying Harper to a tree. My muscles flinch as I look for a break where that damned knife is away from Harper’s throat. When it comes to battle, Lincoln and I don’t need much of an attack window. That said, we do need one.

  Unfortunately, Acca warriors are really good at tying Harper to a tree while keeping a knife right at her jugular. It’s almost beyond belief. All they need is a train track, long mustaches, and a cry of mwah-hah-hah. With that, their scene of evil would be complete.

  Prescott stomps his loafer-clad foot. “I said to release her, not tie her up.” He wags his finger at the warrior with the knife. “And take that dagger away from her throat.”

  The Acca fighter simply shakes his head no. Seems like Blaze is the chatterbox of the team.

  Blaze now does a total dick move. Taking advantage of the fact that Prescott’s back is turned away from him and toward Harper, he starts going in for a kill. Quick as a whip, Blaze hunches over to pull a dagger from the sheath on his leg. Prescott keeps up his foot-stomping routine, totally oblivious to the danger, his back a perfect target for Blaze.

  Wow. What humans don’t know about battle is a lot.

  Lincoln sees the move, same as I do. My guy lunges forward. With a graceful swoop of his arm, Lincoln grabs Blaze’s wrist and prevents him from unsheathing the weapon. We can’t stop the knife-wielding thrax who’s threatening Harper, but at least we can do this.

  “I thought we were discussing a possible alliance.” The lines of Lincoln’s face are tight with fury. “I don’t negotiate with thrax who kill humans.”

  Blaze features turn tense with rage. “You don’t want this kind of trouble, man of Gurith. I’ve killed Furor dragons in hand-to-hand combat.” The weapon wobbles in Blaze’s grasp. It doesn’t fall, though. “You know what that means. I’ve battled fully grown dragon demons with wings. Think I can’t take you?”

  When Lincoln speaks, his voice comes out deep and deadly. “I know you can’t.”

  A lead weight of worry settles into my stomach. Furor dragons are badass. I should know—I have a small part of their DNA rolling around in me. Anyone who can kill a Furor dragon is dangerous with a capital D. My guy’s a great warrior and all. Even so, I’ve also seen how quickly someone can end up dead in a battle. All it takes is a moment and a mistake. I simply can’t lose Lincoln. He’s my heart.

  Jumping forward, I land right by Lincoln’s side. I glare at Blaze for all I’m worth. “Fuck with him, and you’re in for a world of pain, my friend.”

  Blaze offers us a simpering smile. “Of course. We’re still negotiating.” He doesn’t let go of his weapon, though. Jerk.

  Prescott finally turns around. “Mr. Prince. Missy.”

  “Mysteria,” I snarl. No way am I ever letting that drop.

  “What are you doing?” Prescott’s eyes slowly widen. “Wait. You’re from the after-realms, too. Aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, well…” I debate about explaining what’s really going on, but decide that it’s way too much trouble. “We are.”

  At the same time, Blaze keeps his eye-lock going with Lincoln. Now this feels like safer territory to yours truly. It’s really a bad idea to get into a staring contest with my fiancé. Lincoln has a way of glaring into someone’s soul. It breaks his opponents every time.

  Blaze is no exception. He soon opens his hand, allowing his dagger to slip back into its sheath. “May we continue our discussion of a possible alliance?” Blaze’s voice shakes a little. I consider that a small victory.

  “We may.” Lincoln releases his grip on Blaze. The Acca warrior stands upright and shrugs like it’s no big deal Lincoln just stopped him.

  You fool no one, Man-Bun Dude.

  “I’ll give you another sign of my good faith,” says Blaze.

  “Go on.”

  “I’ll release the young girl and her headmaster. Will that help?”

  “Very much so.”

  Blaze turns to the headmaster. “Untie the girl, and you both may leave.”

  “No.” Prescott’s holding his ground, but it’s obvious how his entire body trembles. “I have the coin with me, just as you ordered.” He raises the clump of dirt in his hands.

  My jaw drops. Hells bells. Now he tells us.

  Prescott lifts his chin. “Before I’ll do anything, I want your assurance that I’ll see the Lady again.” His eyes glaze over with a hungry look. “I need her.”

  Since the whole “I’m from the after-realms thing” is out in the open, I’m going for broke. “What you’re feeling, Prescott? That’s called a lust demon enchantment, my friend. You need a curse breaker, not more time with this Lady of yours.”

  Harper writhes under her bindings. Angry red welts are appearing around her wrists, neck, and legs as she twists. The knife is still being held dangerously close to her throat. “Get me out of here. We have to run!”

  I shoot Harper a hearty thumbs-up. Leave it to the ginger girl to talk sense here. “Hang tough, Harper. We’ll get you in a minute.”

  Harper moans softly. Tears stream down her cheeks. The warrior’s blade pricks her throat. A thin dribble of blood runs down the pale column of her neck. Every cell in my body wants to leap over and free her now.

  Screw this. I’m doing it.

  I firm up my footing, ready to lunge. Lincoln’s hand gently wraps around my wrist. Our gazes lock.

  “Not yet,” he whispers.

  I grit my teeth. Hells bells, he’s right. Harper’s safe enough for the moment, and we need information while we can still get it. Not to mention grabbing that damned coin. I force myself to nod.

  Blaze smiles breezily. “You want this over, Prescott? You know the price. Give me the coin.”

  “It’s right here.” Prescott holds up the clod of dirt. “I won’t hand it over, though. Not until you vow to give me access to my Lady. Use one of those magical promises.”

  Blaze tilts his head. “What you’re holding doesn’t look like any coin.”

  “Warriors.” Prescott brushes away some of the caked-on dirt. “You have no imagination.” Within seconds, a gleam of gold appears. The coin is about the size of a coaster and covered in Latin writing. Now that the thing is uncovered, its power starts to break free as well. Even from this distance, I can feel the energy. It reminds me of the last time I held something Lucifer made—his orb.

  No question about it. That’s Lucifer’s coin, all right.

  Suddenly, my skin feels too tight for my body. This coin could release an army from Hell, including Armageddon himself. And it’s really here.

  Damn.

  Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, I already have the codex that will prevent my fiancé and me from ending up in prison. It needs to go to Antrum, pronto. On the other hand, I still have to get a coin that could destroy all the after-realms.

  I straighten my spine. There’s no question. There must be a way to reach both objectives. That’s all there is to it.

  Blaze starts grinning his face off. “That’s the coin, all right. Hand it over. N
ow.”

  Prescott grips the golden disc against his chest. “Not until you promise me, my Lady. I won’t tell you again.”

  Blaze chuckles. “You’re in no position to negotiate. You never have been.” He snaps his fingers twice. It’s some kind of signal because one of the Acca soldiers instantly raises his arm. A throwing dagger gleams in the warrior’s uplifted hand. My breath catches.

  He’s going to kill Prescott. And this time, we’re too far away to stop it.

  Although the motion only takes seconds, time seems to slow to a crawl as the soldier lowers his arm and sets loose the small throwing dagger. The blade spins through the air before embedding itself in Prescott’s back. I shiver.

  The headmaster crumples to the ground, dead. Harper’s soft weeping echoes across the clearing. I’m not exactly broken up over the guy’s death, but that was a crap kill. There’s a reason calling someone a backstabber is an insult.

  Lincoln clearly agrees with me. “Where’s your honor?” he snarls. “The man wasn’t a warrior.”

  Blaze shrugs. “He deserved to die. This is my patrol territory. Here I am judge, jury, and executioner.”

  “You’re also a coward,” says Lincoln. “If you’re man enough to take someone’s life, then you can look them in the eye while you do it.”

  “Please. I gave the man a chance, which is what you wanted. Should I coddle him all day?” Blaze strolls over to Prescott’s prone body and kicks the corpse over. You’d think the guy would have a little more sense of urgency, considering who we are.

  Oh, that’s right. Blaze doesn’t know who we are yet.

  Blaze leans over Prescott’s body. Lucifer’s coin still sits in the dead headmaster’s hand. Blaze scoops up the coin and sighs. “At last, we have succeeded in our mission.” He slips the coin into a pocket on his body armor. “My Lord Aldred will be pleased.”