Redemption, Book III of the Arotas Trilogy Page 18

  From there he can see something shiny wrapped around her left hand. It is long and thin, like fishing line or floss. He stops and watches Roseline as she wraps her fingers around the odd string and brings it down onto the corpse, using it to saw through another chunk of meat.

  Fane’s stomach lurches as he spies the missing hand. It is adorned by a single ring: a serpent with fiery red eyes.

  “Malachi,” he mutters, clutching the back of the couch to remain upright.

  Roseline looks back over her shoulder at him. The curve her spine is pronounced, as if she has not eaten in weeks. Her cheeks are sallow and her arms, what little isn’t buried under an inch of blood, appears skeletal. Her skin possesses the slightest hint of green.

  “Oh god.” He can feel the shaking in his legs and knows he is about to pass out. Judging by the wild look in her watchful eye, that would be unwise.

  “Roseline? Can you hear me?”

  Her snarl is followed quickly by the gnashing of her teeth. Fane frantically tries to think of a way to get her out of here safely and noiselessly, but he struggles to think. The wild beast before him hardly resembles the girl he knew and loved.

  Anger boils deep in his chest at the thought of what it took for a transformation like this. He hadn’t known it to be possible, but then again, there was still much of this world that he doesn’t know or understand. What he does know is that Roseline is beginning to resemble one of the Eltat that attacked them outside the Hell Fire caves a couple weeks back.

  His gaze sweeps the room for a weapon or anything can be used to subdue her. Judging by the streaks of fresh blood glistening from her chin, she has fed recently which means she will be strong, very strong. Fane scolds himself for not bringing along another immortal to help him.

  He’s going to have to take her down on his own, and that will not be an easy task.

  Then his gaze falls on something on the kitchen floor, just beyond where Roseline is sitting. Fane leans up onto his toes. Just beneath the broken table he spies Malachi’s head. Small patches of hair have been ripped free.

  Frowning, he looks back to Roseline at work. She grunts softly as she lowers the string to the body and begins slicing again. His eyes widen as he realizes what she’s holding. Angel hair.

  “Of course,” he whispers, finally putting together the pieces to Malachi’s identity.

  She must have known what Malachi was. Only angel hair would be strong enough to sever bone. Fane swallows roughly against the bile rising in his throat. Roseline dismembered Malachi with his own hair.

  He closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, silently hoping that the man had been dead before she began cutting into him.

  Pure, innocent, lovely Roseline has become the monster she always feared.

  A plan begins to form in his mind, insane enough that it just might work. He will only have one shot to take her down and restrain her with the angel hair. There’s no way he can make it past her to the kitchen before she attacks so he only has one chance…take the hair she has wrapped around her fingers.

  Fane bends his knees and braces. Terror spirals through his veins, chilling him. Never in his three centuries of life has he felt so afraid. His fingers curl against the stained fabric of the couch as he prepares to push off.

  One. Two. Three.

  ***

  Blood trails from the Torrent bouncer’s nose, the cartilage hanging in two torn pieces. The large immortal cowers on the ground, his hands raised to protect his face. “I swear I don’t know nothing.”

  “Now we both know that is a lie, now don’t we, Castor.” Lucien’s lip curls into a vicious snarl as he leans over, dragging his claws through the flesh of the bouncer’s hands. Four gashes open up, nearly deep enough to see his tendons.

  “Let’s try this again. Where did Fane take her?”

  Lucien’s tongue flickers out of his mouth, tasting the air for the man’s fear. It is genuine, but then again, he expected no less. Castor knows who he is. The name Lucien Enescue should strike fear into any living soul, immortal or not.

  “I…I dunno. He left a few hours ago. Didn’t say where to.”

  “Liar!” Lucien’s scream echoes down the narrow alley, unusually deserted for this time of night. It is after midnight, and even though the weekend pub hops should be well under way, no one has dared to come down this street tonight. London is still reeling from the discovery of Ordin’s body in the Thames earlier today.

  Castor cowers low, his chin almost pressing against the uneven stone path. Years of grime clings to the stones. The smell of refuse and feces lingers even after a good street cleaning. Lucien grins as he stomps down onto the bouncer’s head, grinding his face into the muck.

  “I want a name and a place. If you tell me those two things then perhaps I shall consider letting you keep your gut intact. Are we clear?”

  “Yes,” Castor grunts from beneath Lucien’s clawed feet. He can no longer wears shoes, unable to bear the constraining feel of them since his transformation.

  Lucien rolls his neck, enjoying the stretch of his muscles. His strength is growing and his senses are improving. Even though he didn’t plan to be affected by Roseline’s blood, this new transformation has turned out to be quite a bonus.

  “Fane said something about taking her back to somewhere safe. That’s all he said.”

  Applying more pressure, he can hear Castor’s teeth beginning to shatter. He continues to stomp on his face, ignoring the bouncer’s pitiful wailing pleas. “Anything else?”

  “I don’t know,” Castor splutters. A spray of blood stains the ground.

  Lucien lifts his foot. He leans over and buries his claws into Castor’s side. Blood seeps around his nails as Castor screams, flailing about on the ground. “I need a name.”

  “Chicago!”

  Lucien wipes his claws on Castor’s shirt. “See. That wasn’t so hard.”

  “So you’ll let me live?” Castor whimpers.

  “I only agreed to leave your gut intact.” With a mighty stomp, Lucien crushes Castor’s head in. Blood seeps from the remains of his eye socket. Lucien shakes off his foot, scraping off slimy residue onto the curb. He turns and leaves the immortal on the side of the road.

  Someone will come across the body in the morning and London will be gripped again with fear, wondering if this most recent attack was meant to be a part of the string of murders, or something else entirely.

  Once they begin the autopsy on Castor’s body they will discover that his anatomy isn’t quite human and yet mysterious enough to attract attention. How many more immortal remains will show up in the coming days?

  He can only hope many, many more.

  And what will the humans think of Torrent? He is almost giddy at the thought. Kidnapped girls discovered. Vats of blood confiscated. There’s no way he could make up such a brilliant newspaper headline, even if he tried.

  Puckering his lips, Lucien whistles a cheerful tune as he begins to plan his trip to America. Fane was a fool to take Roseline somewhere so obvious, but this could go in Lucien’s favor. Perhaps it is time to take his killing spree across the pond.

  Twenty

  The hallway feels narrow to Gabriel as he hurries forward. It’s probably just him. None of the hunters seem to notice the tight space as he passes, but that may be because he has Elias right over his shoulder. The angel has to stop low to keep from bashing his head against the ceiling.

  Elias’ wings are tucked behind his back but still wide enough to brush against either side of the hallway. His broad chest and bare skin look deep bronze in the dim lights that hang from the ceiling at random intervals. Gabriel can’t help but wonder what Seneh would have looked like here with his ebony skin.

  The thought of his fallen guardian is too painful to think about; Gabriel pushes through a set of double doors at the end of the hall and slams right into William. He catches his friend just before William tumbles forward.

  “Nice moves,” William mutters, rubbing his arm a
s Gabriel releases him. Red marks slowly begin to appear on the human’s pale skin.

  Gabriel winces. “Sorry about that.

  “Guess you’re still adjusting too.”

  “Too?” Gabriel frowns, looking around the room. His gaze falls on Fane and a few black clad men that he doesn’t recognize. They must be some of the hunters that Nicolae brought with him. Gabriel is amazed that a truce could have been formed between the volatile enemies, but so far, the only encounter he’d heard rumor of ended with a bloody nose and two black eyes.

  As his careful gaze completes its sweep of the room, he finally notices Sadie. She’s not the Sadie he remembered, and the difference is as remarkable as it is blatantly obvious. She casts a smirk back over her shoulder at him before turning to listen to what Fane is saying.

  “What happened to her?” Gabriel asks.

  “After you took off, she tried to stop Malachi from taking Roseline. He gutted her.” William’s voice cracks with emotion. Gabriel can tell there is a hint of accusation in his voice. “It was bad, Gabe. He split her open like a prize pig. I’ve never seen anything like it before. And I tell you what…Hollywood has been lying to us, man. That crap is gross!”

  “Tell me about it.” Gabriel says, closing his eyes at the memory of Seneh’s body slipping beneath the surface of the red pool, caught in the current. “So what happened?”

  “Fane saved her.”

  This surprises him. “But Nicolae…”

  “Way ahead of you dude.” William tugs on his arm and pulls him back toward the wall so they can speak without interrupting Fane’s battle plans. “Nicolae was a wreck. Guy went off his rocker for a bit. He was sure Sadie wasn’t going to make it.”

  Gabriel looks toward Nicolae, noticing the tension between him and Sadie. “They look pretty intense right now.”

  William nods. “He almost lost his place among the hunters. It was really touch and go for a bit. They thought he’d betrayed them for turning her. Thought she’d just become another monster.”

  When Gabriel stiffens, William slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Sorry.”

  “Nah. It’s cool. I’m still trying to get used to it myself.” Hearing the slip affects Gabriel far more than he lets on. His transition into the paranormal world hasn’t been an easy ride. People have been hunting him, killing his friends and trying to use him for their own evil purposes. How the heck is he supposed to have any chance to process the normal stuff when he kept getting shoved into battles?

  “So she’s ok? I mean, she handling it all well?”

  William shrugs and leans back against the wall. He crosses one foot over the other as he tucks his hands deep into his pockets. “She doesn’t really like to talk about it much. I think she’s afraid I won’t get it or freak out again.”

  “Again?” Gabriel smirks.

  William offers him a sheepish grin. “Yeah, I guess all of this stuff is just a lot to take in.”

  Gabriel nods in complete understanding. “Yeah, it really is.”

  Elias shifts beside him and William casts a guarded look in his direction. Then he leans in toward Gabriel, far closer than normal. “Do I stink to you?”

  Gabriel laughs. “I saw a few showers when I came in. If you’ve got a problem…”

  “No, not that,” William waves him off. “I mean my blood. Sadie says I stink and Fane does nothing more than grunt a reply.”

  Finally understanding his friend’s meaning, Gabriel clasps William on the shoulder. “You smell good enough to eat.”

  William beams, pumping his fists in the air. “I knew it!”

  Fane glares over his shoulder at the outburst, but quickly returns to his meeting. The black clad hunters, shrouded in the shadows of the far side of the room, smirk knowingly. Obviously they have spent enough time around William to know what he is like.

  Elias’ feathers rustle as he laughs, slipping in behind Gabriel from the hall. “You humans are strange beings.”

  William stops jumping around to stare wide-eyed at Elias. The angel’s deep voice and overpowering presence subdues him quickly as his gaze falls on the crown of feathers rising over Elias’ shoulder. He casts a worried glance at Gabriel.

  “Holy crap,” he mutters, backing away.

  “Don’t worry, Will. He’s with me.”

  “Good to know. I’ll just…I’m just gonna go check on your room.” William slips behind Elias and out the door with only the rusting of his parka to announce his escape. Obviously adding an angel to the eclectic mix of supernatural beings is a bit too much for him.

  Once William is out of the room, Gabriel falls silent, listening to the hushed tones of the battle plans being drawn up at the far end of the room. He hears the tightness in Fane’s voice as he speak of someone’s death, a guy name Castor. Gabriel’s ears perk up on the details about Lucien.

  Craning his head, he tries to hear snippets of the conversation about trailing Lucien to America, but he finally gives up. Their hushed voices are too low for him to hear from this distance. Instead, he is forced to occupy himself with surveying the room around him.

  It is not particularly long or wide, but the walls were created to conceal sound and are reinforced to keep intruders out. The world outside could have vanished completely and he would never know.

  The walls are off white, much like the outside of the base. The exterior was designed to help distinguish it from the snowy tundra outside. The ceilings are unnaturally high for such a squat building. He glances at Elias from the corner of his eye and realizes that he hardly has to duck his head at all in here. Did the Senthe somehow know an angel would fight alongside them?

  Large maps line the far walls, although he can’t see any tactical reason for them. The terrain all around is mostly flat with a wide expanse of trees to the west and south. A large lake lies buried in forest to the north, within a two-hour walk from the base. This location is as remote as could be.

  If he rises up onto his toes, he can almost see a map laid out on the large table in front of Fane. Several men surround it, giving him only glimpses through the small amount of spacing between them. Sadie glances back at him from time to time. He can tell she is anxious to come speak to him, but her gaze flickers back toward Fane and she returns her attention on him.

  Gabriel frowns. Since when did Sadie care what Fane thought?

  “He is her mentor now,” Elias whispers into his ear. His breath is warm, reminding Gabriel of how his feathered wings blaze like the sun when stretched out.

  “You mean lap dog,” he mutters under his breath. Sadie’s lip curls into a smirk as Fane’s shoulders stiffen as Gabriel’s voice carries easily to the immortals in the room.

  So much for an easy reunion, he thinks.

  “Fane,” Gabriel calls, interrupting the immortal’s discussion. “We need to talk.”

  Fane nods curtly, motioning for Gabriel to wait in the hall. Gabriel grits his teeth at the obvious delay but silently obeys. He is anxious to see Rose. Elias said she would be here, but he’s confused as to why she didn’t come to greet him. In the pit of his stomach, he knows Fane is delaying for a reason, and it has nothing to do with babysitting the hunters.

  Something feels wrong in the air. He can’t quite place it, but there is a heaviness that seems to have little to do with the coming battle.

  He follows Elias’ lead back out of the room and closes the door with more force than is necessary. Elias stares at him, his eyebrows rising, but he doesn’t question Gabriel’s act of frustration.

  Leaning back against the wall to wait, Gabriel begins to fidget after only a few minutes. First, he stuffs his hands in and out of his armpits. Next, he picks at his fingernails, as if trying to remove invisible dirt. Then he moves on to pacing the four-foot span of the hallway.

  Elias watches him but remains silent. Several hunters squeeze past, entering and leaving the room. It is obviously the hub of this organization, and Gabriel is on the outskirts of it all.

  “Patie
nce. Your time will come,” his mentor says, his gaze focused unseeingly on the wall across from him.

  Gabriel knows Seneh’s has taken its toll on Elias. Seneh was his companion for over a millennia and although Elias doesn’t speak of his death, Gabriel knows Elias has questions about how and why Seneh died. Gabriel’s just not sure that he’s ready to explain yet.

  The door beside them opens and Sadie steps out, quickly closing the door behind her. With little hesitation, she throws her arms around Gabriel’s neck, squeezing him hard enough to pop the vertebrae in his neck. “Good to see you too, Sadie.”

  She steps back, her smile firmly plastered on her face. “Good to see you alive. Last time I saw you, you looked about as messed up as an alley cat in heat at the pound.”

  Gabriel laughs, not sure if he should take that as a compliment or not. “You’ve certainly changed.”

  With a small twirl, Sadie gives him the full view. “What can I say? Immortality looks good on me.”

  “I bet Nicolae agrees with you.”

  Red instantly stains her cheeks as she glances at the door. Nicolae and Fane have remained behind. “Yeah. That’s not…it’s just…” she sighs, running her hands through her short, cropped hair. “Yeah, I guess he’s cool with it.”

  “Someday you’ll have to tell me the story.” Her smile falters. Gabriel doesn’t miss a single nervous tic as she shifts her weight, inching slightly away from him. “Where’s Rose?”

  Now she openly turns away. “Fane has all of the details you will need about”

  He grabs her hand and yanks her back. “Sadie, please. I’m dying to see her. Can’t you tell me anything?”

  She grimaces, obviously torn. Darting a glance back at the closed door, she tugs on his arm and they move further down the hall. She peeks down the adjoining hallway to make sure they are alone. “It’s not pretty. I’ve only been allowed to see her once and that only lasted about a minute. Fane yanked me out just in time.”

  He blanches at the tremor in her voice. “In time for what? What has happened to her?”