by T R Kohler
Only this time, instead of a blade sliding free and snapping into place, she was plunged into a dark tunnel.
For more than three minutes, it was as if Ember stood still as the world blew by her. Moving at warp speed, it created a fierce wind, tugging at the items in her hand, threatening to rip them from her grasp. Bracing herself on her right leg, she leaned into it, squinting, her hair blowing behind her, tears pulled from the corners of her eyes.
Darkness closed in tight from every side. For the first time in days, she felt the sensation of cool on her skin.
Clenching her teeth together, Ember held the pose, fighting with everything she had to stay upright until – mercifully - it fell away.
Stepping out on the opposite end of the tunnel, without the force of the wind in her face, there was no way for Ember to keep her feet. Stumbling forward, it took three full steps for her to catch her balance, barely staying upright, the whip and mirror both scraping the ground as she reached out to brace herself.
Underfoot, brittle grass crunched beneath her shoes. The air was dry, much cooler than San Diego. The sound of water rushing nearby could be heard.
Rising to her full height, Ember peered out into the distance.
Standing on the edge of a bluff, she could see for miles into the distance. The world illuminated under a full moon and a heavy canvas of stars, she could plainly pick out the details of her surroundings, the time of night doing little to dull her senses.
Stretched out before her was what looked like the start of the Rocky Mountains, their sawtooth pattern gouging into the horizon line. Winding among them like a silver ribbon was the river Rocco had mentioned, a twisting snake along the valley floor, cutting through the limestone.
The desert wind picked up, pushing her hair out to the side as it blew across her body. Stray grains of sand slapped at her skin as tumbleweeds rattled nearby.
In the distance, a few sets of eyes blinking green could be seen peering her way, no other forms of light visible.
Save the one coming from behind her, casting her shadow down to the valley below.
And the one that had just sprung to life along her hip, the whip in her hand picking up on something, readying for a fight.
Glancing down, Ember felt her adrenaline spike in kind. Gone were any worries she might have, any concern over where she was or what she was doing.
In their place was nothing but a calm resolve, a feeling bordering on peace, putting her at ease.
Kaia and Tam were nearby. She would finish this, in any way necessary, and then she would go home.
And the next day she would get up and do whatever she needed to. And then again the day after.
As many times as necessary, as long as it took, to ensure that Emory was safe.
Turning slowly, Ember saw that the tunnel had deposited her right outside of the safe house. Just as Rocco had said, the place was an old barn, the sides weathered, the construction sturdy. Rising two stories tall, it was a massive structure, peeling red paint offset by faded white trim.
No windows were visible along its exterior, the light she saw caused by the single sliding door along the front. Pushed out wide, it allowed the illumination from within to spill out, a bright trapezoid of yellow stretched over the ground.
Interrupted solely by the two men nudging warily closer, their feet providing long dark stripes through the glow.
Keeping the whip in hand, Ember walked a few feet closer. Gaining some separation between herself and the cliff, she came to a stop, peering across at the two men.
Ideally, she would have liked a few extra minutes. A chance to orient herself, to build her resolve after the rush of jumping a few states to the east.
But leaving Rocco behind had made that impossible. The first thing he would have done after collecting himself and tending to Toby was call and warn them she was coming.
“Ember,” the man on the right said. More than a decade older than her, he had hair buzzed short, steel-gray dominating the temples and sides. With a thick wrap around his lower leg, he moved slowly, the limb extended straight out beneath him.
“Jonas,” Ember replied, flicking her gaze across to the man she’d already locked horns with twice before. “Micah.”
Staying silent, the man merely nodded, tapping the side of the glowing blade he carried against his thigh.
“Going to see Rocco,” Jonas said. “That was...crafty. Well played.”
Not sure if the compliment was genuine or in jest, Ember let it pass. “You guys aren’t easy to find. Nice spread you’ve got here.”
A flicker of a smile passed over Jonas’s face as he shifted a few inches, feigning to look back at the barn.
“So I hear you’re looking to make a trade.”
“That’s the rumor,” Ember replied.
Still brand new to this particular line of work, Ember wasn’t sure if such a proposal would even work. Knowing almost certainly that Typhon would never have gone for such a thing, she had made a point not to even mention it to him.
Easier to apologize than ask permission.
“An unusual step, especially for someone so new,” Jonas said.
Flicking her gaze from him to Micah and back, Ember remained silent. From what little she’d seen and heard about Jonas, he wasn’t one for idle conversation. Considered one of the best the opposition had, he’d been given this assignment for a reason.
Unlike she and Kaia, who’d had the situation flipped on them only after accepting the terms.
Even injured, there was a reason he was delaying. She just didn’t know what it was.
“Do you agree to the terms?” Ember asked, bypassing his statement.
“The mirror for the prisoners?”
Smirking slightly, Ember replied, “I think hostages might be a more apt name.”
Staring back at her, Jonas let any previous show of mirth fade. His features hardening, he twisted his head a few inches to the side. “Bold words, coming from a servant of Hell.”
Knowing the words were only meant to goad her, Ember refused to rise to the bait. A day before, she might have fallen prey, but no longer.
Why she did what she did was her own decision, something she had made peace with.
And nobody - not even an angel - was going to judge her for it.
“Are we doing this or not?” Ember asked, her tone letting it be known that the time for parlay was over. She had no interest in turning things into a debate, knowing it likely wouldn’t end in her favor if they did.
Inevitably, there would be some other rule she didn’t know about, something else to trip her up.
Again, shifting slightly to gaze back over his shoulder, Jonas looked to the barn. Letting his glance linger a moment, he turned back and said, “Yeah, we’re doing this. Hand over the mirror, and I’ll send them out.”
Chapter Sixty-One
It was just a snippet of conversation, the tiniest overheard word as the third man onsite - the healer - had stepped inside. Making his second visit since Kaia’s arrival, he’d gone straight to her side, mouth pulled into a tight line as he fell to work. In doing so, he had left the door open just a crack behind him.
But it was enough to tip John Lee Tam off, giving him an idea of what was to come.
Exchange.
From the moment the men had returned that afternoon with Kaia in tow, there was a marked difference in the air. All three had obvious injuries, the types of wounds only sustained in intense combat. Kaia was unconscious, the two men both completely silent.
Everyone was terse, barely looking at him, not really caring about his presence any longer.
His first supposition was that the object they had been looking for, the thing Jonas had first tortured and later tried to cajole out of him, remained lost. They had taken the information he shared, had gone to the place in Oceanside, and had done nothing more than encounter the enemy.
Doing all he could for Kaia, he had retreated into the corner, fearing they were coming back
for him next. That they would think he had more information, or even worse had given them faulty data on the last trip.
And this time they wouldn’t be near as subtle, with him or Kaia. Or maybe even the young man, still stowed somewhere nearby.
When the door had opened a few minutes later, he had visibly cringed, thinking it would be Jonas, there for a third round.
To his surprise, it was the final member of their party, the short and thick one. Ignoring Tam entirely, he had gone straight to work on Kaia, checking her vitals and applying medicines to the twin puncture wounds marking her chest and back.
When he was done, he retreated as fast as he’d arrived, not giving Tam a second glance.
Confused, concerned, Tam had done what he could. Laying his body close to Kaia, he had imparted a bit of his body warmth to her, watching as it combined with the effects of whatever the man had applied. Little by little, her skin tone had improved, her breathing leveling out.
More than an hour passed before the door opened again. When it did, Tam lay perfectly still. Flicking his gaze to the man, he made no effort to move, the man again barely noticing him as he came in and went straight to work.
A century of working for Hell had imparted a basic understanding of the rules into Tam, even the ones he didn’t necessarily work with on a regular basis. Things such as how to tunnel jump. And who was allowed to interact or injure another.
And how large a contingent could work on a particular case.
The first time he’d seen the third man, shorter than the others but much thicker, he’d assumed that he too was a soldier.
Only after that visit did he remember that only two active combatants were allowed at a time, the quota already full.
Realizing who the man must be, what he was and wasn’t able to do, Tam had made no effort to retreat. Instead, he’d remained where he lay, close to the door, hoping to see out, to catch some tiny shred that might help them.
The full extent of the conversation, he couldn’t be entirely sure of. Only the single word had truly jumped out to him, delivered by Jonas, he and the other man moving fast for the door.
Still, it was enough.
Barely able to contain himself, to lie perfectly still, Tam had waited as the man finished his second round of working on Kaia. The instant he was done and the door closed behind him, Tam had sprung to his knees, grabbing her by the shoulders.
Giving her a hearty shake, he leaned in close, his lips just inches from her ear. “Kaia. Kaia! You need to wake up. Something is happening.”
Some of the natural warmth had returned to the girl’s skin, her body still flaccid as she shifted from side to side under his grip.
Giving her another shake, he pressed his mouth tight to her ear, hissing into it, “Kaia! Dammit! Wake up!”
Outside, he could hear the sound of footsteps, of objects being moved around. His anxiety increasing, he returned his focus to Kaia, again jostling her with everything he had.
He didn’t know what the man had given her, how long it would take to revive her - if it was even meant to revive her - but he had to keep trying. Three long days he had been inside the room. He’d eaten little, been subjected to torture.
Something was coming.
And they needed to be ready for it.
Chapter Sixty-Two
It wasn’t the words that Jonas chose that ultimately clicked with Ember, tipping her off. While clichéd and assuming her for a fool, they came too late to truly provide any real information.
It wasn’t even the man’s insistence on drawing out the conversation, a classic stall tactic, delaying any further activity as long as possible.
What ultimately did it, the moment that Ember knew things were about to go awry, was when he turned and stared over his shoulder at the barn. Lingering a bit too long, looking in a way that bordered on yearning.
Meaning that something was almost certainly wrong.
“Okay,” Ember said. Despite every internal warning she had firing simultaneously, she forced her features to remain neutral, her voice never rising. “Bring out my friends, and we’ll all get this over with.”
Tam and Kaia weren’t her friends, but under the circumstances they were allies, which was about as close as she was going to get.
“Mirror first,” Jonas replied.
There was not a chance Ember would give it up so easily. It was the sole point of leverage she had. The only way she ensured any of them made it out in one piece.
But she couldn’t let them see that.
Too many times over the years, she had been written off. A woman in a male-dominated industry, she had been shunted to the side, pushed away as if she was perpetually in over her head.
For once, it was time to let that stereotype work for her.
“You promise?” Ember asked, putting a tinge of hope into her voice.
“Of course,” Jonas said.
Venturing a half-step forward, Ember kept the mask in place. Pretending to still be the uncertain female completely out of her depth, she looked to Micah before focusing on Jonas. “And how do I know you guys won’t just take it and throw me in your prison with them?”
A look that bordered on hurt crossed Jonas’s face. He raised his palms, letting her see them both, before saying, “Because we’re not allowed to. That’s not how the rules work.”
A muscle twitched in Ember’s jaw as she clenched her molars tight.
Enough with the damn rules already.
“Okay,” she managed, nudging a bit closer.
Across from her, both men did the same.
And then together, all three took another step.
Of the two, Micah was clearly the greater threat. Armed with the Sword of the Spirit, he was younger, taller, stronger than Jonas. And he had already bested Ember twice before.
A third time would go no better.
“That’s it,” Jonas said, hands still raised. “Nice and easy, we all go home happy.”
Swallowing hard, Ember moved a bit closer. She ran the math in her head, right hand twitching slightly as the two sides converged.
Twelve feet.
Ten feet.
The original plan was spotty at best. It involved freeing Tam and Kaia, delaying the trade, and then trying her best to figure out what to do with the Seeing Eye once they were secured.
Even if the artifact was lost, her case would be complete. She and Kaia could move on knowing Tam had been found.
The fact that everything else had occurred couldn’t be pinned on them.
The new plan, the one that had formed based on Jonas’s behavior, wasn’t much better, though it did have one key difference that she found especially appealing.
It allowed her to be the aggressor.
Whether it was dealing with her ex-husband, standing over a perpetrator she’d just caught, or even sitting along the side of the road that night with Emory, if there was one thing that had allowed Ember to do anything, it was erring on the side of acting first. Lashing out, using surprise and intensity to make the first move.
Putting her opponents on their heels, making them react in whatever way she wanted.
The mirror held in her left hand, Ember lowered her gaze toward it. Rotating it slightly, she saw her own reflection come into view, the heavy bruising marring her features. Barely recognizable, she stared at the misshapen face before her, gaze finally settling on the one thing they couldn’t take from her.
Staring straight back into her own unmistakable eyes, seeing the confidence there, the firmness she needed, the faintest whiff of a smile passed over her features.
It was time.
Starting at her right hip, she snapped the whip up in a quick arc, firing it like a prizefighter throwing an upper cut.
Both caught in the middle of their forward march, each man froze in place an instant, watching as the flaming coil unfurled before them. Slicing through the air, it seemed to hang suspended, moving straight for its target.
A long and loopi
ng line, it stayed there until Ember snapped her wrist forward, the line pulling taut on contact.
Standing so close, there was nothing Micah could do as the whip popped into position. Coiling itself around his wrist, the intense sizzle of burning flesh could be heard instantly, followed just an instant later by the man’s scream. His fingers unfurled, releasing their grip, his opposite hand snapping across his body, trying in vain to peel away the sudden intrusion against his skin.
Not that the hand was what Ember was after to begin with.
Giving the whip a second snap, she loosened it just slightly, enough slack present to slide over his enormous paw.
Just as fast, she pulled it taut a second time, watching as the coiled end cinched itself tight around the sword.
“No!” Jonas cried, seeing what was happening, his voice relaying his fears.
Paying it no mind, Ember jerked hard, giving the whip one last pull. Driving her elbow straight back, she dropped her bottom to the ground, using her weight as an anchor.
Under the combined force of it, there was nothing either man could do. Weighing no more than a couple of pounds, the sword pulled easily, a streak of light through the darkness. A tail of bright haze striped out behind it as it sailed over Ember, its form hanging in the air.
Rolling onto her hip, Ember kept her grip on the handle of the whip, waiting until it was almost to the end of the line, before giving her wrist a second pop.
On command, the line uncoiled itself from the base of the sword, setting it to rotating.
Her bottom pressed into the dirt, Ember rolled over. She watched as it hurtled outward over the edge of the cliff, silhouetted against the night sky, before ultimately disappearing from view.
And she watched further as a moment later Micah shot past her, flinging himself over the edge of the bluff in pursuit of it.
Chapter Sixty-Three
The sound of Micah’s voice disappeared almost as fast as the man himself. Once he cleared the top lip of the cliff, his elongated body disappearing from view, the combination of the desert wind and the Cimarron River rushing by below enough to swallow any noise he might have made.
