Into Evernight: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Fearless Destiny Book 2) Page 9
I’d be speaking to young cadets and a bunch of Fearless who’d been retired but would be entering into active duty over the next few weeks. I didn’t do public speaking, especially when it was about my personal life, but regardless of why the organisation was doing this I couldn’t deny the good it would do. I’d been lost without my Fearless status. These men and women deserved to get their lives back. It was worth a few minutes of discomfort on my part.
Pushing back my seat, I patted Frieda in her sheath and grabbed my jacket.
Time to grab a gargoyle and give a little speech.
Ten minutes away from Academy, riding thirty miles per hour on a lonely stretch of road cutting a path through forest land—Fargol tracking me from the air—something rushed me from the left.
The impact registered a second before I was airborne. The world flipped upside down through the visor of my helmet and then gravity asserted its authority and I braced for impact.
I never made it.
Fargol’s huge hands grabbed wrapped around my torso, yanking me away from the inevitable collision.
“Denizen!” Fargol’s voice was a hungry roar.
“Take me down, Fargol. I need to dispatch it.”
I expected him to argue, to tell me he had to protect me, but instead he brought me down, setting me on my feet.
I yanked off my helmet and pulled Frieda from her sheath. We faced the beast together.
“Fargol never seen this denizen before.”
Neither had I, and I was pretty sure I knew all the different species. This thing was something else though. A cross between a creeper and a crawler, its huge centipede body suspended in the air by lethal talon-tipped crawler legs.
“Man you are one ugly fuck!”
I flicked my wrist and activated Frieda.
The creature scuttled back.
“Ugly and a pussy.”
“Kenna …”
I glance up at Fargol. His gaze was fixed over the top of the denizen’s head.
“Shit!”
The sound of rustling filled the air as huge, furry, elongated, and hairy shapes burst out of the tree line and onto the road.
“Fargol crush!”
“Yeah, sounds like a plan!”
The denizens attacked and Frieda went into action.
I sliced and jabbed, ducked and swerved, every second of training with Erebus bursting from my body in instinctual waves. The prosthetic held firm, my balance stayed on point, and as I dismembered and disembowelled, euphoria to rose up and enveloped me. A harsh sound burst from my lips, a cackle of triumph as my enemies fell, as they folded in on themselves, dispatched to Evernight.
Fargol swiped, grabbed, and crushed. He gnashed, roared, and stomped, and together we decimated our enemy to stand in the midst of disembodied guts and gore, two warriors on a bloody battlefield devoid of any enemy corpses.
My chest rose and fell as my pulse settled. “How many do you think there were?”
“Fargol counted fifteen.”
Fifteen new breeds of denizens. What the heck was going on?
“Not normal denizens. Wanting to kill Kenna. Why?”
I shook my head. This attack was not random. It had been orchestrated. I’d been targeted. But why? Shit … could it be something to do with this speech? I was an example, a Fearless about to preach to other disabled Fearless and tell them to come back to duty—that they could wield a blade again. My speech would swell our ranks after they’d been whittled down. Whoever was behind the Emergent attacks was also behind this attack. No doubt about it.
I picked up my helmet, shaking off the slimy innards stuck to its surface, and scanned the area for my ride. It was nowhere to be seen.
I turned to Fargol. “We need to get to Academy and report what just happened. You okay to give me a ride?”
Fargol wrapped his hands around my waist. “This time Fargol stay by Kenna’s side.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
_____
Fearless Holden ended the call with HQ and turned his pale unnerving gaze on me and Fargol. I’d introduced Fargol as my physical therapist, claiming that I’d had a little trouble adjusting to the new leg, and he was along for the day to monitor my progress and make necessary adjustments to the prosthetic.
Holden didn’t question, but I caught the flash of disbelief in his eyes, the manner in which his eyes lingered on Fargol. It made me wonder if the potion was wearing off, or if Holden just saw a little more than the average human.
His office was a huge affair lined with books and dark imposing furniture, the door—thank goodness—had been wide enough for Fargo to slip in if he turned his body sideways.
Holden tapped his fingers on his desk, his mouth set in a line. “A message has been sent to the Chief’s department. I just hope whatever efforts are in place to resolve this tangled web come to fruition soon. I’m glad you escaped unscathed.”
“What do you make of the descriptions of the denizens that attacked?”
He shook his head, his gaze growing stormy. “I’ve never heard of or seen those species before. I can only assume they are either a new breed or …”
“Or?”
“Or whoever has launched this attack on our world is somehow creating these strange hybrid denizens.”
Yeah, that thought had crossed my mind too, but I’d kinda hoped I was being paranoid. Holden was the least paranoid person I knew. I’d trained under him for a year, been mentored by him my first year as Fearless, and if he was thinking along the same lines as me, we were royally screwed.
Lack of luma, a drop in Fearless, topped by mutated hybrid denizens … Yeah, Lauren and the black mages needed to find Crawford, and soon, because a sick feeling in my stomach told me that Brett’s theory that the king of Twilight was somehow involved was a going to turn out to be more than just a theory.
Now, more than ever, we needed the extra bodies out on the streets. Who knew when the next hybrid team of denizens would attack?
“Kenna, I know that public speaking isn’t something you’re comfortable with, but—”
“No it isn’t, but I’ll deal. We need officers and we need them yesterday.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. “Let’s get you to the auditorium. You have quite an audience waiting for you.”
With a final flutter in my belly, I followed him out of the office, Fargol at my heels.
_____
He hadn’t been joking. The auditorium was jammed with cadets, seasoned Fearless, and retired disabled ones.
I climbed the steps to the podium, doing my best to mask the trembling of my knees—the last thing I wanted today was to fall flat on my face when about to give a talk on how a Fearless could continue active duty with a prosthetic.
There was no need to adjust the microphone to my height. Being tall for a woman was usually a bonus when fighting denizens, but right now—standing on the podium above a sea of curious faces—the height just meant I had longer to fall.
“Hi, thanks for coming everyone. My name is Kenna Carter and I’m here to tell you my story.”
A hand shot up.
“Yes?”
“Is it true that you chopped off your own leg?”
I bit back a sigh. “Yes, it’s true.”
“Badass!” someone to my right said.
“Really?” I swept my gaze over the young faces sat at the front. “You think its badass to be forced to chop off a limb just to live? You think its badass to have one of these?”
I yanked up my pant legs to expose my prosthetic.
The room fell into pin-drop silence.
I let go of the material of my pants, allowing it to slide back down and cover my leg.
“So, here’s my story …”
And I told them—reliving that day and the months after—I recalled the loneliness and emptiness, and gave them the official line about my undercover mission into Evernight. Once I was done, I watched the play of emotion on the young cadet’s faces, and the
unified sympathy and understanding in the eyes of the Fearless who’d been injured in the line of duty—forced to retire because the organisation didn’t think them worth the money of rehabilitation.
I picked up the mic.
“I’m here to tell you that sometimes we’re forced to do things in the line of duty that will change our lives forever. I’m here to tell you that we can come back from them, and I’m here to tell you that once Fearless, always Fearless!”
A cheer went up, rippling through the crowd like a symphony, and the fire for action blazed in all Fearless eyes.
My job here was done.
Now it was over to the fifth dimension, to Baal, and the throne.
My heart fluttered. I couldn’t be the one to let everyone down.
18
The morning brought a strange weightlessness, but the buzz of my phone—a text from Baal no doubt—reminded me what had to be done. My pulse skipped at the thought of seeing him again.
I wanted to punch myself.
Get a grip, dammit. I exhaled. The phone beeped, reminding me that the text was waiting to be read.
This was the one. The text that meant I was one step away from being tested, that everything I’d worked for all my lives was about to be condensed to a singular moment.
My alters murmured in the back of my mind, pressing against the wall I’d built with such painstaking dedication. They weren’t getting out, but the quiver in my belly let me know how they felt about it. I still hadn’t told Baal about them. At first, I’d told myself that I didn’t want him trying to strong arm me into using them somehow, but the truth was they were evidence of my fractured psyche. This, coupled with my physical disability, was too much to share—he couldn’t know how broken I was.
The phone buzzed again.
A second text? Someone was getting impatient.
I lifted my phone from the bedside table and stared at the message.
Meet me on the office roof in ten minutes. The first one said,and the second.I’m sure you missed my face.
I rolled onto my front and buried my head in my pillow.
Gah, he was killing me!
I was so doomed.
_____
Fargol and I were almost out the patio doors in the kitchen when Mum stopped me.
“Kenna?”
“Why are you up? Get some more sleep.”
Fargol shifted from foot to foot. The house was a small space for such a huge creature, and even though the serum Ariana had given him made him look like an average guy, it didn’t alter his mass. He still required the same amount of space.
I placed a hand on his bicep. “You want to wait outside?”
Fargol nodded. I slid open the door as wide as it would go to allow him to squeeze out.
“I wanted to see you before you left,” Mum said. “Is it time yet?”
I nodded. “Baal is picking me up in fifteen minutes.”
Her face was pensive. “Be careful, baby. And most of all, believe in yourself.”
“I’ll be back to fetch you once it’s done, so maybe get packing?” I offered her a cheeky grin, but she didn’t bite.
Her eyes were shadowed, troubled. “Mum, what is it?”
“Nothing that matters now, but once you have the throne, we’ll need to talk.”
My stomach flipped. “Aw, come on, you can’t do that. Can’t you just tell me now?”
“No. Later, I promise.”
“But … is it bad?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, honey, not bad, just … it’s something you should know, and it’s long, so when you get back we’ll have a nice long chat. I love you, now go make me proud.”
The urge to press her for more info warred with the desire to not be late for my meeting with Baal. My stomach fluttered. Maybe the problem was the amount of one-on-one time Baal and I had spent together.
Maybe if there was someone around to act as a buffer …
Sabriel!
I needed to see the scribe again.
_____
“It’s only been a couple of days,” Baal said “There may not be any news yet.”
He was dressed in butt-hugging denim and a pale blue shirt that set off his eyes and hair. It was so unlike his usual expensive attire that I’d been forced to do a double take. The rings at his ears and on his fingers glinted in the sunlight, and his leather boots clipped against the pavement.
He looked hot.
I’d texted him to tell him to meet us outside the scribe’s house, and Fargol had flown me here.
“We could really do with him around. He knows stuff and has insight.”
“And as an angel he can’t actually do anything to intervene if you get into trouble.”
“But he can talk to me.”
Baal paused. “You need someone to talk to?”
I scrambled for words. “No. I mean, yeah. I mean, not at the moment … Just …if I did, then he’d be there.”
Fargol stood silent, his huge head swinging from me to Baal as we talked.
Baal cupped my shoulder. “I’d like to think that if there was anything bothering you that you’d feel comfortable speaking to me. I’d like to think that over the past couple of months we’ve become friends.”
I swallowed, my eyes fixed on his collar. I just couldn’t risk looking into his eyes. “Yeah, of course.”
“Good, now let’s go see this scribe.”
I turned to Fargol. “You better wait here, I’m not sure the doorway is large enough for you to get through.”
Fargol nodded and stationed himself at the gate as we walked up the drive. If anyone saw him he’d look like an average unremarkable human. A loitering human, but still …
Baal and I walked up the drive and climbed the porch just as the door swung open.
The scribe stood on the welcome mat, carrying a briefcase and dressed in a smart skirt suit, her short locks were teased into a funky modern style.
“Ah, right on time,” she said. “I have a meeting but pushed it back a half hour so I could be here when you showed up.”
She stepped onto the porch, forcing me to step back, and shut the door behind her.
“So you know why I’m here?”
“I can take a guess. You want to know if Sabriel got his appeal. Bravo on the memory retrieval by the way.”
“So, did he?”
“Oh, he got it pretty quickly and his isolation has been lifted.”
“So he can come see me?”
“No.”
“What?”
“Look, Kenna, there are forces at work here that you couldn’t possibly understand. And to be honest, you don’t need to. Sabriel will be allowed to see you when deemed fit. For now you need to focus on your goal. The rest will fall into place as it should have all along. Now if you’ll excuse me …”
She clattered down the steps and headed down the drive.
“What did she mean ‘the rest will fall into place as it should have all along’?”
Baal shrugged. “I don’t know, but I agree that we need to be focusing on our goal. We need to make the final preparations for the Black Moon, and I know just the place to work from.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Baal’s gaze fell on Fargol. “Um … unfortunately our gargoyle friend won’t be able to come with us.”
Fargol’s eyes narrowed. “Fargol go with Kenna.”
Shit. “Why can’t he come?”
“The place we’re going is heavily warded. Only a handful of people have admittance. It’s a safe house.”
“Fargol must not leave Kenna!” My gargoyle friend was getting more and more agitated.
I pulled Baal to one side. “I can’t send him back to the fortress, who knows what Erebus will do to him. Fargol is my responsibility now.”
Baal stroked his chin. “I have an idea.” He walked up to the gargoyle. “Fargol, the fortress asked you to protect Kenna, and by putting her into my care you are doing just that. I swear to you that I will protect h
er with my life.”
Fargol looked from Baal to me, then back to Baal. “Fargol will hurt you if you fail.”
Baal cleared his throat. “Okay, I guess that’s fair. In the meantime, you can stay with Ariana. You can keep her safe until Kenna calls for you.”
He looked to me for confirmation. I nodded. “Stay with Ariana and, once I have the throne, there will be a place at my side for you always.”
Fargol inclined his head and stepped back. “I will await your summons.” And then he unfurled his huge stone wings and launched himself into the air.
Baal pulled me into his arms. His warm gaze scanned my face, his lips descended toward me, my heart rammed into my ribcage. He was going to kiss me.
Instead, he whispered, “Let’s go get that throne.”
And then we were rising on the wind.
Resting my head against his chest, I inhaled his scent.
I was so screwed.
19
We landed on black rocky ground surrounded by thick grey mist.
The air was ice, and the howling wind whipped my hair back and forth.
I gripped Baal tighter, shouting over the storm to be heard. “Where the heck are we?”
“My safe house. One moment.”
We were moving again, Baal’s mini tornado battling against the elements around us.
His arms were solid bands around me, crushing me to his chest, as the tempest outside our little tornado haven tried to rip me from his arms. I climbed up his body, wrapped my legs around his waist, wound my arms around his neck, and pressed my face to the side of his head.