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Acca

Page 20

by Christina Bauer


  I stare at the pocket that currently holds Lucifer’s coin. His “Lord Aldred” is never getting his hands on that thing. I make a silent vow: Lincoln and I are not leaving this clearing without that coin.

  One of the Acca soldiers gestures toward Harper. “What do you want to be done with her?”

  “That depends.” Blaze returns his attention to Lincoln and me. “We need to finish our negotiations first. Have you considered my offer? You must see that there is no other choice. Aldred already has the incantation to activate Lucifer’s coin. Our elders secured it ages ago. Once Aldred has the actual item in his possession, Acca will take the throne of Antrum.”

  “That’s your offer?” Lincoln’s features are still as stone. My guy’s pissed, all right.

  “I’ll sweeten the deal. You seem to know this human girl. If you swear fealty to Acca right now, I might let her live.”

  My brows lift. Wow, is that ever a crap deal. Ally with a psychopath and you maybe—just maybe—won’t kill someone? This dude is delusional.

  Lincoln turns to me and sets his hand at his throat. “What do you say, Mysteria?” My guy doesn’t have to say another word. I know exactly what he’s thinking here. He wants us to take off our amulets and reveal our true identities.

  Man, I am ever down with that concept.

  “Yup.” I twiddle my fingers by my neck. “I’m with you.”

  Lincoln and I turn back to face Blaze. Moving in unison, we grip the silver chains around our necks and yank the amulets off. Both charms fall onto the wooden step beneath us with a clunk.

  The lines of Blaze’s square face soften with shock. The other Acca warriors freeze. I can’t help but gloat a little.

  That’s one super-satisfying sight, right there.

  Lincoln straightens his shoulders and goes into what I call his royal mode. “I am Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus, High Prince of the thrax and future consort to the great scala. You have one chance to give up the coin and the girl. If you do this now, I’ll allow you all to live.”

  My tail waves to them over my shoulder. “And I’m the Great Scala and future Queen of Antrum. Normally, I’d have killed you already. That said, my guy here wants to chat, so…” I bob my head, considering. “You’ve got about two minutes, tops.”

  “Demon!” hisses Blaze. “I’ll enjoy slicing that slimy tail from your backside, bitch.”

  Over my shoulder, my tail gives Blaze a modified version of an obscene hand gesture. I nod in agreement. “That’s right, boy.” I glare at Blaze. “Respect the tail.”

  Lincoln moves to stand beside me. “This is your last chance, Blaze.” Even though his words are hard edged, Lincoln’s demeanor stays calm and controlled. “Surrender now.”

  Blaze’s chest heaves as he considers his reply. Still, the guy doesn’t even need to open his big yap. I can already tell that he’s going to shoot us down.

  Nice.

  My thoughts slip into battle mode as my inner wrath demon roars to life. Every tree, wall, and stone falls into an intricate web of possible attack vectors. My battle plans deepen. Different offensive moves flicker through my mind’s eye. There are no less than four different strategies that I could use to take these guys down while getting that knife away from Harper’s throat.

  I nod once to myself, the decision made. I’m going with the assault plan that uses my tail the most. After all, my backside is still making lewd gestures at Blaze. That only happens when it’s super pissed. Best to let my boy get out some ya-yas.

  Lincoln and I lock gazes. We’ve had situations like this on demon patrol before. I hitch my thumb toward my tail and then toward the other Acca warriors. The question is there but unspoken. Can I set him loose on those guys?

  Lincoln gives me the barest of nods. Yes.

  I bob a little on the balls of my feet. Lincoln will go after Blaze while my tail and I take out everyone else.

  This is going to be so awesome I can’t stand it.

  Blaze pulls out two long daggers and raises them high. “Kill the usurper!”

  I roll my eyes. “Finally.”

  The other Acca warriors take up the cry and rush toward us. In response, I leap straight up into the air, my favorite battle cry on my lips. “Eat death!”

  Meanwhile, Lincoln ignites his baculum as a long sword made of white angel fire. He rushes down the steps toward Blaze.

  I’m a big fan of mixing in acrobatics with my battle plans, so I take care to do an aerial flip before I plant both my sensible schoolgirl flats right onto the chest of the Acca warrior nearest Blaze. He tumbles backward onto his ass. I’d give that fall about a six out of ten, tops.

  Now, if I were wearing my battle boots, I would have crunched a few ribs with the impact, too. That would have pumped the rating up to a seven or eight. Guess you can’t have everything. I’m just happy to be kicking ass and taking names.

  Lincoln’s now in a heated swordfight with Blaze. I hate to admit this, but Blaze is actually really good with a sword and hand-to-hand combat. His words about killing a Furor demon come back to me. My heart leaps into my throat.

  The three remaining Acca warriors get out their throwing darts and start chucking stuff in my direction. Bring it on. This is like crack for my tail, which has a grand old time batting the weapons away from me. My backside moves so fast, it’s basically a blur. At the same time, the first warrior—aka the one I knocked unconscious with my landing—is still lying like a lump on the ground. He won’t be battle-ready again any time soon, so I run toward the trio of dagger chuckers.

  One down. Three to go.

  I quickly size up the three remaining Acca warriors. These guys are total projectile junkies. They’re standing in a perfect formation for me to take them down—one, two, three.

  It’s so sweet I almost want to cry.

  My power of demonic wrath rushes through my bloodstream, giving me extra strength and speed. I crouch down again, leap up even higher into the air, and land on the first Acca warrior’s back with a thud. There’s a snapping noise as some bones break. That guy isn’t getting up anytime soon.

  Two down. Two to go.

  Standing up, I go into a Thai kick, slamming my shin into the face of another Acca fighter. His nose crunches as I break it. My tail takes a breather from deflecting projectiles to wrap around the dude’s neck and smash his head into a nearby tree trunk. The warrior goes down like a sack of potatoes.

  Only one left.

  The final warrior stares at me, dumbfounded. He’s your standard Acca blondie with whip-strong limbs and a low IQ. He raises his hands in a defensive move. “Our prince says you will give us mercy if we surrender.”

  I glance over to Lincoln, who’s still going at it with Blaze. They’ve now chopped through part of Prescott’s office and downed half an oak tree. My fiancé is such a stand-up guy. He really would want this Acca scumbag to stay alive.

  My tail swipes slowly behind me. “Fine. I won’t kill you.”

  “Thank you, Great Scala.”

  I step up closer and raise my hands in a gesture that says, “You’re safe.” The guy sighs.

  That’s when my tail goes to work and punches him right in the nuts. The dude hunches over and moans before falling to the ground. After that, the end of my tail balls into a fist and knocks the guy out cold.

  And with that, I have kept my word. The guy isn’t dead. That said, he won’t be walking upright any time soon, though.

  With warrior number four out of commission, I return my attention to the battle. Blaze and Lincoln are fighting it out under another massive oak tree with heavy branches. My tail goes berserk behind me. I pat the arrowhead end. “I know what you want to do, boy. I’m down with it.”

  I rush across the clearing and start scaling the massive tree. We don’t have a lot of forests in Purgatory, and the ones that do exist have like two leaves. Long story short, they’re really only good for climbing, which is why I can scale this trunk super-fast. Holding my arms out, I balance-walk out onto a l
imb that juts out right above Lincoln and Blaze.

  Almost there.

  Once I’m right above the action, I loop my tail around the branch beneath my feet. Blaze is heaving breaths now. He won’t last much longer. Lincoln still looks pretty fresh, though. A warm sense of happy radiates through my chest. Lincoln’s winning.

  Blaze pulls a charm from his pocket, crushes it in his hand, and releases a poof of purple smoke right into Lincoln’s face. My guy quickly counters by pulling out a charm of his own, but I don’t like this. At all.

  Blaze is fighting dirty.

  Well, two can play at that game.

  I step forward off the tree branch. My tail holds me in place as I swing around, stopping when I’m upside down and face-to-face with Blaze. The Acca warrior freezes. Blaze was so focused on fighting with Lincoln, he didn’t see me coming.

  Which is just how I like it.

  “I’ll say it one last time.” I take care to use my most badass voice. “Respect the tail.” Curling forward, I smack my supernaturally-tough head onto Blaze’s. He stumbles backward, stunned. I jump to the ground, and my tail grips Blaze by the ankle. Twisting about, I spin and take my enemy along with me. Our 360-degree journey ends when Blaze’s head smacks into another tree. He’s knocked out cold.

  Huh. It’s like a concussion theme day here at the Wheeler Institute.

  My tail lets go of Blaze’s ankle and starts to do a happy dance over my shoulder. I pat the arrowhead end. “Good job, boy.”

  Lincoln extinguishes his baculum. Now, he holds two silver rods in his hand, nothing more. He chuckles. “’Respect the tail.’ That’s a good one.”

  My tail whips up to muss Lincoln’s hair. They have their own love thing going. Well, as much love as can happen between a demonic tail and a hot prince. Most days, I try not to think about it too much. A few more seconds pass with my tail fawning over my fiancé before I yank it away. “That’s enough, boy.”

  A mischievous gleam shines in Lincoln’s mismatched eyes. “Why? Are you jealous?”

  “No, not at all. We simply need to, you know, clean things up?” I so suck at lying.

  “Yes, we do need to set things right.” Lincoln’s still working his sneaky-grin thing, but at least, he’s letting the whole tail conversation die out, which I totally appreciate.

  Stepping over to Blaze, I search through his pockets until I find the coin. It’s about the size of my palm and cool to the touch. You’d never suspect this little item could bring on the end of the after-realms, yet that’s the whole point of major magic, I suppose. It wouldn’t work too well if it advertised itself. I zip open my backpack—which survived the battle like a champ, by the way—and slip the coin inside. A sense of relief washes through me.

  “I think we did it,” I say.

  “Almost.”

  Suddenly, Blaze hops up to standing. It’s like something out of a human horror movie. His face is crazed as he grips two fresh daggers. This time, he’s ignoring Lincoln and running straight at me.

  I want to move and fight, but seriously? What is this guy’s deal? I mean, what kind of person has a head that thick? My tail really rammed his cranium into an oak tree, after all. It doesn’t seem possible.

  Lincoln reignites his baculum as a long sword. I blink hard, trying to get my thoughts back into battle mode. There’s no real need, though. Before two full seconds have passed, Lincoln has run his long sword straight through Blaze’s chest.

  Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

  Blaze tumbles over, dead. Lincoln glares at the corpse. “No one goes after my future wife.” He raises his baculum again, ready to strike.

  I rush to Lincoln’s side, setting my hand on his forearm, trying to calm my guy before he loses it entirely. It strikes me that Lincoln did the same for me, not so long ago, back when I wanted to go into berserker mode and free Harper early. “It’s okay. You killed him.”

  Lincoln turns to face me, his eyes wild with rage. “He woke up out of nowhere and ran straight for you.”

  I gently guide his arm down. “I know. But you got him.” I rest my palm on his cheek. “It’s over now.”

  Lincoln heaves in a few breaths before nodding. “Right.” Finally, Lincoln seems to snap out of his berserker funk. He extinguishes his baculum and sets both rods back into their holster. “It’s just…Anyone attacking you, it makes me crazy.”

  I can only smile. “I got that.”

  Harper’s weeping sounds from across the clearing snap us both out of our thoughts.

  “Oh, crap.” I sigh. “We forgot about Harper.”

  Lincoln and I rush over to her side. With a flick of my tail, Harper is free from her bindings. She hobbles away from the tree to stare at me, wide-eyed and frightened. “What…What are you going to do?”

  It’s a good question. Part of me wants to say my goodbyes, forget this school ever existed, and haul ass back to Antrum. That way, Lincoln and I can put the codex somewhere safe—along with the coin, of course—and then get on with our lives. That impulse quickly fades, however.

  Even with the fact that time is running out, there’s no way we’re leaving here until I’m certain that Harper and the others are safe. I glance over at Lincoln. The resigned look on his face says it all.

  “We’re staying, aren’t we?” I ask.

  “Yes.” He glances up at the sky. “We still have the afternoon left.”

  My stomach somersaults. The afternoon. And in that time, we have to secure the school and what’s left of the Acca patrol. That part wouldn’t be too hard, but it all depends on who has seen what. If we have to do memory wipes, it won’t be easy. Those things are a massive time-suck to do on one human, let alone fifty.

  Staring directly into Harper’s eyes, I give her my best “I got this” face. “Mr. Prince and I will talk care of everything.” I wince. “Although, I have to be honest. Come tomorrow morning, you’re not going to remember any of this. We have some magic mumbo jumbo that will erase any signs of strangeness, including your memory of the last week or so.”

  Harper hugs her elbows. “Good. Thank you.”

  Lincoln taps his chin. “Let’s check the Acca warriors. They may have some charms that could help.”

  “Or we can run to the nearest Pulpitum and summon a thrax team to help us. You know, from the House of Rixa.”

  “Too risky. Gives the humans a chance to record all this somehow. We need to do basic damage control first. After that, we can summon a formal thrax patrol for cleanup.”

  Ah, cleanup. From time to time, humans see that thrax really exist. When that happens, there’s a long list of protocols, spells, and traditions to follow. And it’s all for good reasons, really.

  I rub my neck in a weary rhythm. The court closes in a matter of hours. We have so much left to do, and I’ve never felt so tired. “I guess we better get to it, then.” There’s no mistaking the quiver in my voice. Exhaustion.

  Ever since I met Lincoln, it’s been nonstop craziness. And today is no different. Suddenly, all I want to do is hide somewhere and sleep for about a thousand years.

  Lincoln pulls me to him in a deep hug. He’s never felt warmer or more comforting. His voice sounds low and soothing in my ear. “I know this is a lot, Myla. Yet we’ve gotten this far, haven’t we? At last, we have both the codex and the coin. Now, all we have to do is make sure the Wheeler Institute is safe and return to Antrum. From there, things should be easy.”

  I nod and nuzzle into his touch. Yes, things should be easy. A weight of worry settles into my stomach. But for us, they never are, are they?

  23

  Hours pass before Lincoln and I have the Wheeler Institute under some semblance of safety. In the end, we had to do a shit-ton of memory wipes. At least, we were able to raid the pockets of the Acca soldiers and steal their caches of memory charms. Even so, it took forever to wipe everyone. A student ran across the battle with Blaze, saw Prescott get killed, and freaked everyone else the fuck out. Someone already wrote the whole exp
erience in her journal. Good thing we found that.

  Once the wipes were complete and the Institute was relatively secure—including the nasty business of hiding dead or magically asleep bodies—we got Jeeves on guard duty. Mostly, his job is to hold down the fort until a Rixa thrax patrol could finish the cleanup.

  With that done, we still needed to get the codex to Antrum before 5 p.m. Yipes. Lincoln knew of a nearby Pulpitum that could take us straight to the courtroom. After changing into our fighting gear, we rowed our own asses back to the mainland. There wasn’t a lot of chatter between us. The air felt heavy with tension.

  By the time Lincoln and I hit the opposite dock, the sun was already touching the horizon, so we ran full out to the Pulpitum. Turns out, the place was hidden inside what looks like a deserted barn.

  Which brings us to where I am now: jogging closer to a Pulpitum-holding barn while I scan my surroundings. There are trees everywhere and no humans around. Good. I pat the backpack, ensuring the codex still remains safely inside. The weight feels solid against my palm. Worry still twists up my neck, though. The evidence in this thing simply has to work. There’s no other option.

  Lincoln and I step inside the deserted barn. The interior is rundown and empty. Everything smells like moldy hay and dust. Beams of dying sunlight poke through the gaps in the walls, casting odd patterns on the dirt floor. I haven’t used a ton of Earth-based Pulpitums, but they’re often in places like this: abandoned garages, ruined houses, that kind of thing. Barns are a particular favorite as they’re also far away from the eyes of prying neighbors.

  Lincoln cups his hand by his mouth. “This is Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus. Activating field station.”

  White laser beams pulse inside the deserted barn. Once the lights crisscross over Lincoln, the floor rustles under our feet. A large metal disc rises from the dirt. The transfer platform. I grip the straps of my backpack more tightly.

  Only minutes remain to return this codex to the courthouse in Antrum.

 

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