Trinity: Feathers and Fire Book 9

by Shayne Silvers

  He was using his newly acquired silver claws and he moved like a dancer, spinning and slicing, ducking and dodging, making his fight look like a choreographed kung-fu flick as a pair of demons repeatedly thrusted their pointed tridents at him, always missing their mark. Quentin laughed as he cut them down, slice by slice, only seeming to get stronger and more fluid as his claws drank the demons’ blood.

  Sensing no immediate threats, my thoughts wandered to Dorian’s comment about Claire and Kenai visiting here. I’d forgotten all about her with all the other insanity. I had a lot of serious questions for her, and she’d been hanging out here at Dorian’s party? Why had everyone seemed so distant and almost hypnotized, only snapping out of it when they saw me kill a demon and bare my fangs at them? What the fuck had Claire been doing here—the same place Legion had visited earlier this morning—

  In my peripheral vision, I saw a trident swing towards my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. I ducked, rolled towards the attacking demon, and then exploded upwards with an uppercut that knocked him off his feet with a teeth-shattering crunch. He landed flat on his back with a grunt and I leapt on top of him, straddling his waist as I tossed my sword to the side. Without further ado, I began punching him in the face, repeatedly—left, right, left, right, left, right…

  All I could think about was Claire. What the hell was she up to? I now had yet another reason to question her motives.

  I paused after eight blows, frowning at the bleeding, whimpering demon. He was surprisingly tough, because I didn’t see enough blood for my liking. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and called up a ring of air, using it like a hair tie to keep it in place, distantly noting that I could no longer hear Quentin or Phix fighting.

  Then I set back to work, beating the living shit out of the demon with my fists, alternating from one hand to the other like a metronome, smiling as I finally began to see enough damage to make me happy. The demon’s body went slack and unconscious beneath me, so I stopped, letting out a breath as I inspected my knuckles. Undamaged but covered in the victory of demon blood.

  I heard Quentin grunt from over my shoulder. “Well. I guess that answers my question about where to draw the line.”

  “I know, right?” Phix agreed in a pleased purr. “She’s the best.”

  I glanced up at him from over my shoulder and he flinched, taking an involuntary step back. Phix was sitting on her rump a few paces away, grinning devilishly as her head swiveled from one of us to the other as if watching an invigorating professional tennis match.

  I reached over to pick up my sword and then rose to my feet, keeping my eyes on Quentin the entire time. I studied him up and down with a thoughtful frown. Then I calmly stabbed the unconscious, battered demon through the heart with my katana, still not breaking eye contact with Quentin. I tugged my katana free and twisted my wrist in a sharp motion, shaking off the demon blood. I placed the sword back where it belonged over my shoulder, opposite Ryuu’s dark blade, feeling Aphrodite’s suit grip it firmly before I let go.

  Not once had I looked away from Quentin, enjoying his awkward discomfort, not knowing whether he should smile or run, kneel or stand. I approached him with a slowly spreading smile, revealing my fangs. “Hello, Nephilim,” I said in a soft voice. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

  He impressed me by not backing up, even though he was noticeably freaked the hell out by my psychopathic and now sociopathic actions. “It’s, um, nice to see you, too,” he said, lowering his gaze.

  “Dracula,” Phix chimed in, sounding amused. “It’s, um, nice to see you, too, Dracula. Say it with me, Quentin.”

  He did, repeating everything, even the um, which almost made me burst out laughing, but I managed to keep a straight face as I studied his claws.

  “So. What’s new?” I asked, dryly—obviously demanding an explanation for the odd couple’s presence. “Death didn’t suit you?” I asked, deadpan.

  He shrugged, still not meeting my eyes, looking like I’d caught him stealing cookies from the cookie jar. “I don’t know. I woke up in the park and felt a need to save my family.”

  Phix snorted, flaring out her wings and showing off her honkers, reminding me of her blatant disdain for the Nephilim. He’d tried to freaking kill her. “Tell Master Dracula the truth, Quentin dear,” Phix warned.

  He hung his head, looking ashamed. “Phix came back to the park and found me alive. She woke me up and took me into her…custody, I think she called it.”

  I glanced over at Phix. She lowered her wings and shrugged, shamelessly. “You morons never thought to remove the body, so I took the initiative.” She turned to give Quentin a sharp look. “You do not get to speak to her like I do, Quentin. I am more important than you will ever be. Repeat after me—I, Quentin, will never be as important as you, Phix, to Master Dracula.”

  He did, scuffing the grass with one boot as he did. It seemed a little overkill in my opinion, but Phix deserved to humiliate him as much as she wanted.

  “Let’s stop the mantras and tell me what this is all about,” I said, folding my arms.

  Quentin nodded. “Phix told me that I had to pay for my crime if I wanted to earn your favor.”

  I frowned. “It’s not a crime to be a Nephilim. You didn’t imprison yourself with those cuffs—”

  “The crime of gawking at my breasts—for a total of seven seconds—and then trying to kill me,” Phix interrupted. “By my count, he owes me a debt of seven bodies—one for each second of leering.” She glanced at the dead demons. “His debt is now five bodies, but I told him an angel counts for three,” Phix admitted with a bored yawn. “I wanted to see what he was capable of. So far, I have been satisfied,” she said, glancing at the two dead demons he’d handled with pizazz.

  Quentin smirked, nodding to himself.

  “You used him as…a guinea pig?” I asked Phix, not sure whether to be mad or proud.

  She nodded. “Who better to use as a test subject than a disposable, presumed dead, asshole with wandering eyes who desperately needed to redeem himself? I am teaching him repentance. To earn his keep.” She glanced over at Quentin, who had wilted at the wandering eyes comment. “Unless you prefer to execute him. You’re his boss, not me.”

  I nodded, pensively, studying Quentin. “Look at me.” He lifted his head and met my eyes. “What do you think, Quentin. A lot has changed for you since this morning. How does your situation make you feel?”

  He pursed his lips and I saw a flicker of anger dance across his eyes. “I want vengeance,” he growled in a low tone. “The angels gaslighted me, making me worship the ground they walked on. And this whole time…” he said, lifting his claws and staring at them with a look of proud awe, “I could have been my own man. The whole time, I had the power to make them kneel.”

  I kept my face blank. “And is that what you want? Power? To shame your old jailers?”

  He frowned, shaking his head. “What? No!” he said, vehemently, only now realizing how it had sounded. “It’s just…I have the chance to be my own man. Phix told me some of what you’ve done and…it is the exact opposite of what I’ve been taught about you. The angels painted you as this demonic monster, but Phix flew me around the city today, showing me places where you had helped people,” he said, his words more of a shameful whisper at the end. “I realized that the tour of stops mapping my meaningful victories is pretty shallow. I just did what I was told, fought who I was told to fight, hated who I was told to hate. But since that cuff broke off, I felt something I’d never felt before,” he mused in a dreamy tone.

  I arched an eyebrow, still keeping my face blank. “Oh? A new monster to serve?”

  He didn’t immediately answer, choosing to consider his words this time. “Family,” he said, softly. “I felt a sense of belonging that contradicted what I thought I knew, and it was so much more powerful. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, to be honest. But…I’d like to prove myself to you, on my own merit. The fact that you don’t hold a leash
over my head makes me want to be better. To see what kind of man I am.” He frowned, looking dissatisfied with his answer. “I want to find out who I am, and what this is. If you will have me.”

  I nodded, slowly. “You do understand that I can also make you do what I want.”

  He smirked. “But you aren’t,” he said, emphasizing the last word. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you will.”

  I smiled back. “And how am I to know you won’t go running back to the angels at the first opportunity of escape?”

  He clenched his jaw and took an aggressive step forward. “Because they lied to me, Master Dracula. I will never go back to them. And for what it’s worth, if you intend on lying to me, you may as well kill me now.”

  I nodded my approval. “That is all I ask of my people, Quentin. Honor, integrity, and loyalty. And the decisiveness to stand behind your convictions when it matters most.” I pretended not to notice his smile and I turned to Phix. “For now, he is your responsibility since he still owes you a debt. Keep a close eye on him and don’t toy with him too much. We need to show the Nephilim that we are not what they’ve been led to believe.”

  I felt Quentin’s eyes on me but I remained focused on Phix. She pouted. “Maybe just a little misery now and then?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”

  Quentin chuckled. “To be frank, I find it refreshing after spending a lifetime surrounded by hypocrites who acted holy only to keep us under their thumb. And I think we’ve all seen that…I’m a little rough around the edges,” he admitted with a mischievous grin.

  I laughed. “I can live with that.” I glanced around the lawn, surprised that Dorian hadn’t come out after the mass exodus at his party. Especially now that the threat was neutralized. But I had more important things to worry about than Dorian’s feelings, and I was on a time crunch. He’d probably passed out after his however-long bender. “Let’s go see Adrian and Eae,” I said.

  Quentin choked. “They’re alive?”

  I pursed my lips. “Correction. Let’s go see if Adrian and Eae are still alive.”

  “This is going to be fun,” Phix said as I opened a Gateway to Xuanwu’s estate. “Be a good boy, Quentin. Don’t attack anyone without my permission. Trust me, I’ll let you know when you’re allowed to play. It’s my favorite pastime.”

  44

  Our unannounced arrival at Xuanwu’s estate caused quite a chaotic stir, but it was swiftly doused when they recognized who we were. I was pleased to see everyone on high alert. Xuanwu walked up to me and smiled warmly, his obsidian eyes flicking to Ryuu’s sword over my back.

  My own happiness faltered as I was reminded that I had semi-bad news to tell him. He pulled me in for a hug and I almost deflected it due to my guilt. Instead, I waited until he loomed over me to whisper in his ear. “Ryuu was taken, but he’s safe. I already have a plan to get him back.”

  Xuanwu hugged me as if I’d said nothing of importance. Then he extracted himself and nodded. “I know. I have seen your future together. Parts of it,” he mused. “Congratulations on leaving your baggage behind in St. Louis.”

  I stared at him, stunned, and unable to make my mouth work.

  He turned to Quentin and thumped his sword cane into the dirt. “Have you calmed down or is your blood still up like the tall boy’s was?” he asked, glancing down at Quentin’s hands. Upon seeing no claws—I think that’s what he’d been checking for—he nodded, matter-of-factly. “Good. Saves me the time of beating it out of you,” he said, jovially. “My name is Xuanwu, the Black Tortoise, or one of the Four Daemons, as you probably know me. And that is likely the only accurate thing you know about my family.” Quentin nodded, wild-eyed and skittish. “My siblings and I would like to…clear the air with you and Adrian. He’s already inside,” he said, wrapping his arm around the dumbstruck Quentin and guiding him towards the house as he continued in a soft, rumbling tone. “Tell me your name, Nephilim…”

  I glanced over at Phix, prepared to complain about being left out of the meeting. Except she had abandoned me as well, and was already a dozen paces away, curled up and sleeping in front of one of the numerous Buddha statues. I scowled at her stupid Rainbownatti tattoo, muttering unpleasant things under my breath. Why hadn’t Xuanwu invited me inside to hear about the Four Divines? Why tell the Nephilim and not their new boss, Master Dracula?

  I sucked in a breath when I turned to see a man seated in a wooden Adirondack chair before the pond, facing away from me. “Fabrizio!” I hooted, already jogging towards him. He flinched and almost fell out of his chair, and I realized that he’d been sleeping. I skidded to a halt beside him, staring down at—

  I cringed, eyeing the twenty pounds of gauze extending from each wrist. He met my eyes and gave me a forced smile. “Hey, Callie,” he said, sounding extremely tired.

  “Oh, Fabrizio,” I whispered. “I thought I got you here fast enough,” I said, fighting back tears.

  He shrugged. “Doc Aala hasn’t condemned me to death, Callie, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he said, gesturing for me to sit down in the chair beside him. I did, perching on the edge of my seat to face him rather than reclining and staring out at the pond.

  “What did she say?” I asked in a hoarse voice.

  Fabrizio stared down at his waffle-iron-sized mitts, sighing. “Not to peek,” he finally said with a wry chuckle.

  I cocked my head at the potential good news. “Wait. Does that mean…”

  Fabrizio smiled, hopefully. “Possibly, but I’m not getting my hopes up,” he said, letting out a breath. I felt a tendril of magic brush a strand of hair back from my forehead and I gasped. Fabrizio chuckled. “Who needs hands when I have magic?” he asked, shrugging.

  I nodded, my lips trembling. “Y-yeah. Of course,” I whispered in a hollow tone. He could say whatever he wanted, believe whatever he wished. The facts wouldn’t change—he had lost his hands helping me fight the demon, following my orders to heat up the dumpster.

  “Enough about me,” he growled, meeting my eyes. “I think we’ve both seen our fair share of changes today,” he said, meaningfully. And his eyes flicked to my mouth as brazenly as if he’d pulled my lips back to inspect my teeth. I tensed, my eyes widening in alarm. “I don’t know what’s really going on here, but just because my hands are busted doesn’t mean I lost my sense of sight or hearing. Nephilim with claws like yours, an angel who can now say the Lord’s name in vain, and your…unique way of handling that dumpster fire demon who cost me my hands. Spill, Girlie Penflower,” he said, using his tired nickname for me as a peace offering. He leaned his head back against the chair, waiting.

  I struggled to process the barrage of information he’d just dumped on me. Eae could say the Lord’s name in vain? What the hell? “Eae and Adrian are okay?” I asked. Xuanwu had alluded to it, but it was nice to hear it confirmed.

  Fabrizio grunted. “Much better than I fared in those waters. Then again, my damage was…extensive.”

  I grimaced, leaning back in the Adirondack chair and staring out at the pond as I gathered my thoughts. “Just give me a minute to clear my head. I feel like I haven’t sat down in days,” I told him, closing my eyes as I considered what to tell him and what to keep secret. There was no denying my fangs, but I wasn’t sure what to actually tell him because event I didn’t know all the answers. That was what Richard was looking into for me at Solomon’s Temple. The soft hubbub of ninjas and monks going about their business and the gentle, soothing breeze kissing my cheeks lulled me into a dreamy awareness, and my frantic mind soon grew as calm as the pond before me.

  I thought I heard Fabrizio chuckling, but it sounded so far away…

  I sat up with a start, my heart racing as I jerked my head left and right, scanning for dangers.

  Phix smiled at me, compassionately, from less than a foot away. “You needed it, Callie. You slept like the dead, and Fabrizio said he’d only looked away for a minute before you were snoring and melting into the chair, bonelessly.”<
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  I took a calming breath, pulling out my phone to check the time. I let out a sigh of relief to see that it had only been a few hours. It would soon be night, but I hadn’t missed anything in St. Louis.

  “The others asked me to bring you to the training fields when you woke up,” Phix said, appraising me with a critical eye and not looking convinced I was up to the task.

  I nodded, straightening my clothes subconsciously. “Yes. Let’s do that. Everyone is still alive, right? Xuanwu didn’t eat the Nephilim or anything?”

  Phix gave me a dubious look. “Maybe you need more sleep,” she said, slowly.

  “I know where the training fields are,” I said, already striding past her. Phix chuckled at my defiance but then caught up to me and prowled gracefully by my side with a contented purring sound. I mentally ran over my to-do list, knowing I still needed to speak with Roland to make sure my vampires were safe. I also needed to meet up with Richard to see what he’d found on my long list of questions. I hadn’t intended to nap at all, and now I felt rushed to prepare for my big, knock-out brawl with the Olympians at some undisclosed time tonight—and I couldn’t tell anyone here about that or they might interfere, jeopardizing whatever Nate had up his sleeves. Phix would definitely make an issue of it.

  We made our way to the training fields where I found Eae still secured to his sickbed and the two Nephilim speaking quietly with Fabrizio. They saw me approach and stiffened before casually drifting apart. Then they all smiled a little too wide for my liking. I narrowed my eyes to let them know I wasn’t stupid, and then I noticed that Eae was also watching them with a healthy skepticism. I put my hands on my hips and glared at Fabrizio and the Nephilim. “Stop whatever it is you’re doing,” I said. They shot me mock looks of innocence, mumbling affirmatively.