Chapter Twenty-Two
Pulling on her boots the following evening, Wynter looked up as Cain stalked into their chamber with a casually menacing grace, a sense of battle-readiness clinging to him like a cloak. This was so not the time for her hormones to get all excited, considering they were about to invade Aeon, but her body gave not one single shit about that.
She’d known he’d gone to speak with an aide who, along with some other hirelings, would watch over the Keep while he was gone. There were a number of residents who wouldn’t partake in the battle—it was important not to leave Devil’s Cradle vulnerable, and not all who lived here were fighters anyway.
“Any issues?”
Wynter asked.
Cain shook his head. “All is moving along exactly as it should.”
He slowly raked his gaze over her in a very predatory and assessing way, as if searching for weaknesses. “I see no weapons. You assured me that you’d be armed.”
An unnatural breeze brushed over her skin, humming with amusement. Kali found it laughable that he would be so overprotective of a being that was almost impossible to kill. Wynter found it sweet. Until he started doing dumb shit like threatening to keep her confined “for her own safety”
when, really, it would be to give him peace of mind.
Cain narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like how often She intrudes on our private moments.”
He was getting much better at sensing Kali’s presence, though he didn’t always pick up on it. Wynter was so used to the deity being close by that she didn’t think much of it. “I wouldn’t bother whining about it, if I were you. It would be a waste of time. Deities do whatever they want—the end.”
He mumbled something beneath his breath.
“As for your worry that I’m unarmed, don’t be fooled. I have plenty of concealed blades tucked here and there. Also, I’ll be able to conjure my sword at will. There’s therefore no sense in carrying it on my person. And don’t forget that my magick is a concealed weapon, in a sense.”
She stood. “Speaking of magick . . . Is my coven here yet?”
“Yes. They’re waiting outside the Keep. And, for once, they’re not bickering with each other about anything.”
“They can be serious when they need to be.”
Staring into Cain’s eyes, she didn’t need to ask if he was ready to leave. Those dark pools were lit with determination, bloodthirst, and anticipation.
She’d bet his creature was just as raring to head to Aeon. Both had waited too long for the moment they could wreak vengeance on those who slaughtered their loved ones, all but annihilating their species, and then jailed the eight survivors here.
Cain skimmed his hands up her arms and then rested them on her shoulders. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to remain here?”
“As I told you last night, I’ll stay if you will.”
And they both knew he wouldn’t.
He let out a soft curse, his nostrils flaring.
Wynter stifled a smile. “You had to know you’d never convince me to remain behind.”
Yes, Cain had known that he was wasting his breath. No warrior would hang back at such a time, and his consort was a warrior through and through. More, she’d no doubt been instructed by Kali—who seemed to have some interest in ensuring that Aeon fell—to not remain behind.
Still, he’d had to at least try to convince her to instead stay and defend Devil’s Cradle from any would-be invaders. How could he not want to take every precaution when it came to this witch, who was his world? Who was the only person to ever love him in a way that was so simple, so easy, so unconditionally?
Having her in his life had changed him in subtle ways. Positive ways. Losing her would change him once again, but not positively. No, he’d become the very thing that the Aeons preached the Antichrist would be. The ultimate evil. The bringer of pain, death, and destruction.
She placed her hands on his chest. “Don’t worry about me. You can’t afford to be distracted. Concentrate on doing your thing, and trust me to do mine.”
“Oh, I fully trust that you’ll be alert and focused. I know you have an edge over most people, given what you are and that a deity looks out for you. Just the same, I know that going into war isn’t new to you. But we’re about to walk into a battle that is like nothing you’ve ever before experienced.”
“I know that.”
He sighed at her smile. “Only you would be so excited.”
She snorted. “Like you’re not raring to get moving so you can take Adam down. And he will go down.”
“Yes, he will. The other Ancients and I will settle for nothing less. In the meantime, do as we pre-agreed and focus on taking out his people. Leave the Aeons to us.”
“I already assured you that I wouldn’t deviate from our plan unless put in a situation where I had no choice but to go off-script.”
Still, he worried that she’d be tempted to take on Adam herself. Not only to avenge her mother, but to avenge Cain. His consort had commented many times on how much she longed to see Adam pay for all he’d done to Cain. The need to wreak vengeance was at the core of every revenant, after all.
Although she wouldn’t break her word and seek out the last ruling Aeon, she might well engage in a duel with him if given the chance. The very thought made Cain’s blood run cold. Wynter was a being that was built to defy even death itself, but Adam was not only tremendously powerful, he could call on the elements. If he realized that he was in fact dealing with a revenant, it would be easy enough for him to conjure iron and use it to weaken her. Adam would then pounce, and he wouldn’t do a half-assed job of trying to kill her. He’d take her out for certain.
His chest tightening at the idea, Cain caught her face in his hands and pinned her gaze with his. “Stay safe for me. You can’t know what it would do to me to lose you. You can’t know the suffering that both me and my creature would inflict upon the world if something were to happen to you. So you ensure that nothing does.”
“Right back atcha.”
“I’m serious, Wynter.”
“So am I.”
She sobered. “I’m a revenant, Cain. There isn’t one single thing on this Earth that would live through the plagues, pestilence, and curses I’d unleash if you were taken from me. Don’t doubt that for a second.”
“What a pair we make.”
He rested his forehead against hers and slid his hands from her shoulders to her neck. He didn’t say anything. He just held her close for a few moments, breathing deep. Then he very gently squeezed her neck and stepped back. “It’s time.”
Wynter slowly dipped her chin. “I’m ready.”
She allowed him to lead her out of the Keep, where they found her coven and Maxim waiting. Each of them looked equally eager to get moving.
Curt nods were exchanged and then, as planned, they headed to the surface and walked to the town’s vehicle storage facility. Many people stood around—residents, Ancients, aides, and Aeons—all ready to pile into the modes of transport that would soon be brought out of the warehouse one by one.
Wynter watched as some residents cast the Aeons wary looks. No one trusted the trio’s motives for coming along, and that was understandable. But no one had objected, so maybe they weren’t fond of the idea of leaving the Aeons here unsupervised by any Ancients. Some of the aides had been instructed to keep a very close eye on the oblivious trio during the battle.
Soon, people were filling the assorted vehicles available—SUVs, station wagons, sports cars, motorcycles, minivans, pick-up trucks, all-terrain vehicles, and even a few Winnebagos—and then they were driving through the tunnel to make their way to Aeon.
Wynter, Cain, and her coven had claimed a six-seater jeep. The dominant, commanding bastard probably would have insisted on taking the wheel if he’d had any driving experience. He rode shotgun while she drove. Her coven sat on the two rear passenger rows, not saying much.
Wynter couldn’t help but notice how Cain’s gaze drank in whatever they passed. He’d had ways to “see”
the outside world from his prison, but it wasn’t the same. She wished he wasn’t getting these in-person sneak peeks for the first time when on their way to a damn battle.
Considering Adam could “see”
beyond Aeon in much the same way, there was of course a chance that he would spot them coming. But it didn’t seem likely that he would carve out time to spy on the land that lay between Aeon and Devil’s Cradle—he would never expect that they would escape their prison. Still, it was a risk they had to take.
The drive to Aeon was no quick journey. Over the course of the next two days, they stopped a few times to rest, eat, change, refresh themselves, or to use the “bathroom”.
It wasn’t until they were a mile away from Aeon that they parked the vehicles in a forested area. Dead leaves crunched beneath Wynter’s feet as she slid out of the jeep. The evening air was fresh, cool, and laced with the scents of dirt, moss, and sweet cedar. There were no bird calls or the chattering of squirrels, as if the wildlife had stilled in uneasiness at the sudden presence of so many predators.
Although dusk was beginning to fall, it wasn’t so dark that she had trouble seeing. Peering between the tall, weathered trees, she could spot the fringe of the woods up-ahead; could make out the vast and familiar prairie land beyond it.
Cain slid his hand up her back and gave her nape a squeeze. “I’ll be back in a moment,”
he said before making his way toward the other Ancients, who’d gathered into a huddle a few feet away and were waving him over.
Taking a slow glance around, Wynter said, “I remember this forest well. I had to traipse through it after freaking Shelia teleported me to the prairie land over there.”
“Bitch,”
Delilah mumbled. “May she rot in hell.”
Well, given she’d sold her soul to an actual gateway to that plane, Shelia was definitely in hell. Wynter knew that much for certain. And if any of her coven died tonight, the same would have happened to them if Cain hadn’t promised her that he would release their souls to be reborn if they died.
She gave each of them a hard look. “You’d better survive this battle. I mean it.”
Xavier snickered. “Well, if you mean it . . .”
She gave his arm a light punch. “I’m serious.”
He raised his hands. “We’ll be fine. I’ll call on Asmodeus if all goes to shit.”
“That’s not actually reassuring.”
“Oh, give the poor demon a break; he’s not so bad.”
“Annis will have my back,”
said Delilah.
Anabel frowned. “How? She’s in the spirit world.”
Delilah only smiled.
“Avian shapeshifters, move!”
Dantalion called out.
“That’s me,”
said Hattie. “In a witchy-sense, of course.”
“Remember, don’t get too close to the keepers,”
Wynter told her. “They’re often armed. We don’t want them shooting you out of the sky.”
Hattie gently patted one side of Wynter’s face and smiled. “I’ll be fine, dear. I’m too mean to die.”
She cackled at that and then, with a colorful burst of magick, shifted into a crow. Like the other avians, she took to the sky to scope out the area surrounding the entrance to Aeon.
“She’ll be all right, Wyn,”
said Delilah before gulping some water from a bottle. “She’s tough as old boots.”
Wynter rolled her shoulders. “It doesn’t stop me from worrying.”
While they waited for the spies to return, they joined many other people in stretching or walking up and down. Despite that they’d taken breaks during their journey, Wynter’s ass hurt, and her legs felt cramped.
Finally, a few avians returned. Then a few more. And a few more. And eventually came a cluster that included Hattie.
A relieved breath slid out of Wynter. She didn’t get the chance to speak with Hattie. The eight Ancients rounded up all the spies and questioned them.
Close enough to overhear the conversation, Wynter learned that the Aeons hadn’t upped their level of security—no doubt feeling confident that their only worthy adversaries would forever be trapped in a cage. Keepers still went out in groups of two. Altogether, twenty patrolled the outskirts, and each duo was situated at a different distance away from Aeon.
Although they were all armed, it wouldn’t be hard to take them out. Not if everyone stuck to the pre-agreed plan. Wynter would certainly enjoy the part she played in it.
Walking toward her with Dantalion, Cain narrowed his eyes at her, his lips twitching. “There’s that hunter stare.”
She felt her mouth curve. “It’s not directed at you this time.”
Dantalion studied her expression. “The next move is yours. Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?”
“Positive.”
She didn’t fail to notice the look of disappointment that crossed Cain’s face. He’d tried talking her out of it several times already but, unable to deny that her little plan was their best move, he’d eventually relented. Begrudgingly. And sulked for a full hour.
“Then I’ll get the others into position,”
said Dantalion, who then began barking out orders.
Wynter gave a nod to both Anabel and Xavier. The two quickly got to work putting a protective spell on the jeep. The keepers had a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, so it seemed only sensible to make the vehicle bulletproof. Other magick-users would likely do the same to their own modes of transport before approaching Aeon.
Cain sighed. “For the record, I still don’t like this plan you came up with.”
“I know, but I’ve walked into far more dangerous situations,”
Wynter told him.
His brow pinched. “I’m sensing you think that’s supposed to in some way comfort me, but it doesn’t.”
She cast him a sheepish smile, trying to hide her amusement. “Sorry.”
To be fair, he was right to be concerned. The plan could potentially blow up in their faces. But she had faith in herself and her coven.
Once Xavier cemented the protective spell on the vehicle with a little blood magick, he let out a satisfied sigh. “Done.”
Wynter climbed into the trunk of the jeep and curled up on its carpeted bottom. Her monster probably would have grumbled its disapproval if it wasn’t asleep.
Delilah puffed out a breath. “Fucking confined spaces.”
She reluctantly shifted into a housecat and leaped into the trunk, where she then curled up beside Wynter.
“Ready?”
asked Xavier, his thumb hovering over a button on the key fob.
“Ready,”
Wynter confirmed.
He pressed the button, and then the trunk lid slowly began to close.
“See you soon,”
she mouthed to Cain, keeping her eyes locked with his until the lid finally closed.
The vehicle jiggled slightly as the rest of her coven settled into it. Wynter knew that, as planned, Xavier would be driving while Anabel rode shotgun and Hattie hid beneath the front passenger seat in her crow form.
Soon, they were on the move. They couldn’t have been driving for longer than fifteen minutes when Anabel said, “We can see two keepers up-ahead. They’re coming our way, and they’re armed to the teeth.”
A spike of adrenaline pumped into Wynter’s bloodstream. “Keepers usually are.”
Thankfully, none would be Aeons—those arrogant shits wouldn’t take on such lowly positions.
“We’re being flagged down,”
Xavier announced.
Wynter felt as the jeep began to slow. She kept her breathing steady and remained still, her senses seeming hypersensitive courtesy of the adrenaline.
Unfurling from her ball, Delilah stood in front of Wynter, facing the trunk’s lid.
The vehicle came to a halt, and the engine switched off.
“State your business,”
someone called out.
Wynter narrowed her eyes. She recognized that voice. It belonged to a werewolf who’d once regularly shared the bed of Wynter’s old Priestess. Truthfully, Tito was a bit of a prick. Hence why he and Esther had made such a good match.
“We’re here to cash in on the bounty,”
Xavier declared. “We brought Wynter Dellavale.”
There was a distinct pause.
“Where is she?”
asked Tito.
“In the trunk,”
Xavier replied.
“You’re managing to keep a witch contained in a trunk?”
“She’s bound and gagged with magick. She’s not going anywhere or she’d have escaped by now.”
Another short silence. “Out of the vehicle. Both of you.”
Metal creaked as the doors opened, and the jeep rocked slightly.
“So you’re from Devil’s Cradle?”
“Yes,”
Xavier simply replied.
A grunt. “Your girlfriend will stay right here. Quick warning, if she does anything stupid, my friend over there will put a bullet in her brain. Now move.”
Wynter heard two sets of footfalls make their way to the rear of the vehicle, so she had to assume that Tito had gestured for Xavier to head that way. Her pulse kicked up, and she licked her lips.
“Open it,”
said Tito as the footsteps paused outside the trunk.
“I need the key fob for that,”
Xavier told him.
An annoyed sigh. “Wood, use the damn key fob to open the trunk.”
Wood, huh? Wynter remembered him, too. The mage had been a friend of the boys who killed her when she was just a child.
There was a jangle of keys, a slight snick, and then a low whirr as the trunk slowly opened, moving higher and higher.
Delilah pounced in a flash of movement, shifting mid-air into a monstrous cat and slamming Tito’s body to the ground, burying her iron claws into his chest. Screaming, Tito fired his gun, but the shot went wide.
Wynter moved a mere millisecond after Delilah, lashing out with magick, sending an ultraviolet orb smashing into Tito’s skull. Still a cat, Delilah tore out his throat before he had the chance to retaliate.
Wynter turned to see Xavier impaling Wood on his rapier sword. The keeper had claw marks on his face that she guessed came from Hattie’s talons. The crow was now perched on Anabel’s shoulder.
“Anyone hurt?”
Wynter asked, relieved when everyone responded in the negative.
Hearing voices calling out in the distance, they looked to see a cluster of people racing their way who’d no doubt heard the shot firing. Good. Because that had been the whole point—lure keepers their way and take out as many as possible before they stormed Aeon.
“Move,”
Wynter barked out.
She and her coven quickly huddled behind the jeep—and not a moment too soon. The vehicle jiggled as bullets and orbs of magick crashed into it again and again. Her heart pounded in her chest as footfalls thundered along the ground toward them.
Anabel squeezed her eyes shut. “So this is how we die.”
“Don’t start with that shit. The plan will work.”
Wynter looked at Xavier. “How many are coming at us?”
He peered through the windows. “Eight.”
Knowing some would carry swords that she’d enchanted, Wynter briefly chanted beneath her breath to swiftly disable the runes. No one got to use her own magick against her or her coven.
Xavier launched two balls of magick over the jeep and then ducked down again. The colorful flashes of magick would wonderfully act like freaking flare guns to any nearby keepers.
Her monster stirred menacingly, wanting to surface and attack. But a cautioning brush of air from Kali stayed it.
Xavier and Wynter took turns tossing orbs of magick at the approaching men, managing to take out two. Hattie and Delilah returned to their human forms and joined in, their magick more feral in nature—it bit and clawed, scoring and puncturing flesh.
Wynter looked to where the forest lay behind them. It looked so small from here, but she knew the army hiding there could get to them fast if necessary. It wouldn’t be necessary, though. She and her coven had this.
“Do you think Cain will definitely hold back until all the keepers are close?”
asked Anabel, using the sword she’d conjured to deflect bullets and orbs.
“Yes,”
replied Wynter. “He’s protective, but he knows better than to let the army’s presence be noticed too soon.”
After all, if the keepers saw a small cluster of enemies, they wouldn’t bother to sound an alarm; they’d come to help their fellow keepers handle the situation. But if they spotted an army, well, things would go differently. No one wanted the Aeons to yet know just how close their home was to being invaded.
“These shitheads are almost on us,”
said Xavier even as he blasted them with more magick. “And I can see more in the distance now heading our way.”
“Then it’s time,”
said Anabel. “Call her.”
Wynter leaned forward and sang into her ear, “Mary, Mary, please come out.”
A glimmer of madness sprung to life in the blonde’s eyes. The sounds of magick crackling, bullets firing, and men shouting out challenges made her face light up. She looked fondly at her sword. “We fight?”
“In about, oh, ten seconds,”
replied Wynter, calling to her own blade. She hurled a few more blasts of magick while counting down in her head. “Okay, now!”
Delilah and Hattie shifted into their animal forms once more as they all broke cover and attacked. A few keepers skidded to a halt, clearly not expecting the bold charge. They recovered fast, aiming their weapons.
Wynter concentrated on the one directly in front of her. She blasted his gun with a ball of hot, toxic magick, heating up the metal until he was forced to drop it with a hiss of pain. He charged at her, shifting into a coyote, moving too fast for her to impale him on her sword.
She hit the ground hard, her breath whooshing out of her, inwardly wincing as a rock dug into her spine. Well, ow. Looming over her, the coyote snapped his teeth but didn’t move to kill.
Not that he would have managed it in time, because she was already moving.
His head whipped to the side as she punched him with a ball of dark, rotting magick. She would have repeated the move, but then a blur of black fur barreled into his side, knocking him off Wynter.
She leaped to her feet, lifting her sword to take out the coyote. Anabel/Mary beat her to the punch, slicing off his head, singing “Everybody Walk the Dinosaur”. As you do.
A hard impact slammed into Wynter’s shoulder, sending white-hot pain lancing through her. Bullet. Heat grazed her upper arm as another skimmed her flesh.
“Just come with us, Wynter,”
said the shooter—a lycan who was something of a bully. “I don’t know what your plan is, but you don’t have a prayer of taking on all of Aeon. Come quietly. Don’t make us kill you.”
She smirked. “Ah, don’t forget, Adam would kill you if you did.”
A crow swooped down on the lycan’s head and flapped her wings, obscuring his view and clawing the motherfucking shit out of his face. Wynter all but flew at him, burying her sword in his gut.
The fight raged on. Bullets fired. Animals lunged. Magick blazed through the air. Bodies fell, but more keepers came. Which was totally fine, because it meant that plan A was a raging success.
The keepers never tried to kill Wynter, but they tried to disable her. They failed. With her blade, she sliced, stabbed, and impaled. With her magick, she burned, infected, and destroyed.
Even though the keepers knew her blade was enchanted and that insects weren’t really crawling all over their bodies, the illusion nonetheless distracted them—something she pounced on. Again and again, actually.
Wynter braced herself as yet another keeper rushed her. A severed head came out of left-field and hit his skull hard, causing him to stagger to a surprised halt. Anabel/Mary was then there, hacking his own head clean off.
Hot pain punched Wynter’s leg, and her knee buckled. Hissing in agony, she tracked the shooter with her gaze. Before she had the chance to retaliate, a surge of Xavier’s magick crashed into the asshole’s arm, causing him to drop his weapon with a loud cry. Ha.
Wynter hobbled over to the piece of shit. “He’s mine,”
she told the large cat who went to charge him. Wynter swiped out with her sword, disemboweling the prick in one smooth, cruel motion . . . and he dropped to the ground like a stone. Dead. Just like every other keeper.
She heard the gunning of engines coming from behind her. She didn’t need to look to know that the army that had been hiding in the woods had now poured out of it.
Skirting the corpses and dismembered body parts that littered the ground, Wynter looked at each of her coven. “Everyone okay?”
“Fabulous,”
sang Anabel/Mary, even as blood poured out of a wound on her thigh.
Wynter didn’t panic for two reasons—the injury wouldn’t be fatal for an immortal, and it was already closing over much like Wynter’s own bullet wounds.
“I’m good,”
said Xavier, panting. “Got shot a few times but healing fast.”
Delilah and Hattie shifted to their usual forms. Their skin streaked with blood, they prodded at the few non-lethal injuries they sported and then announced that they too were fine.
“Then it’s time for us to get back in the jeep,”
said Wynter, crossing to the driver’s door. “We have a town to invade.”