Chapter 37 #2
She turned her head to see Will enter through the side door Victor had come through minutes before. He wasn’t alone; Ford and Crowe were with him. The two giants squeezed through the doorframe while smoke twirled at Will’s fingertips, Hellsgate flashing into existence.
“Is that—” Grace started.
“Sky Lord Lexington?” Victor’s tone was layered with disbelief, astonishment, and fear. Amaya didn’t blame him; he wasn’t equipped to take on one Sky Lord, let alone two. This warehouse stood on borrowed time.
Graven’s grin widened as he turned, opening his arms like a circus ringleader.
“William! How kind of you to join us. I had rather hoped our paths would cross.”
“Did you?” Will asked, his voice dry.
He didn’t meet Amaya’s eyes, but his jaw and grip on Hellsgate tightened. His anger was palpable, filling the room with an undercurrent of simmering rage.
But when his gaze traveled down to Graven’s chest, where Genesis beat, Will’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared.
“It’s been too long,” Graven said. “You should know your crew fought admirably in your absence, though I was sorry to miss you at the Coil.”
“I was there,” Will muttered, still staring at Genesis. “Just not for you.”
“Well, of course you were. The Skystone didn’t just disappear. Speaking of . . . Markus?”
“No,” Amaya breathed as Lockwood reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden sphere. He opened it, revealing the Skystone shimmering inside.
Even in her peripheral vision, Amaya saw the way Will’s shoulders tensed.
“Excellent,” Graven said, eyeing the stone hungrily.
“Could someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Victor asked, looking back and forth between the two legends before him.
Graven’s lip curled in a wry smile.
“Certainly. William, we’re being rude to our new friend.” Graven folded his hands in front of him, as if about to pray. When he spoke, his voice dripped with malice and sarcasm.
“You see, I’ve decided to retire. It’s my ambition to take a wife and start a family, and who better than Sorrento’s loveliest little songbird? She’s simply delectable. Wouldn’t you both agree?”
He extended Stormfist toward Will, and his other hand to Victor.
Though he spoke in jest, Graven’s suggestion made bile rise in Amaya’s throat. She couldn’t guess at how much he knew about her relationships with Will and Victor, but evidently, he knew enough to taunt them.
“Nothing brings men together as efficiently as a beautiful woman,” Graven mused. “Except, perhaps, power. Unfortunately for Miss Amaya, she embodies both. And I do intend for us to spend the rest of our lives together.” His expression twisted. “That is, the rest of her life.”
Will didn’t visibly react to Graven’s provocations other than to release a low growl, but Victor was beet red.
“One more word about her,” he said, “and I’ll blow your ugly head off.”
“Will you?”
Stormfist crackled, amethyst sparks dancing about the metallic hand. Graven glanced meaningfully at his shoulder, smirked, and snapped Stormfist’s fingers. The result was a bolt of amethyst lightning cracking from the ceiling to the floor, followed by a clap of thunder.
“I’d like to see you try, Lieutenant.”
Victor’s face went from cherry to ashen.
There was an expectant, drawn-out silence, during which Victor refused to lower his gun. His hand shook, tugging at Amaya’s heartstrings. No one could accuse him of cowardice, but he was being stupid.
“Victor, don’t,” she said, praying he’d take her seriously for once in his life. “You won’t win.”
“She’s sharper than she looks,” Graven said. He tapped at the clockwork heart in his chest. “I’d listen to the lady, if I were you.”
Victor looked from Amaya to Graven. His knuckles went white around his gun, and for a second, Amaya was certain she was about to watch him die. But thankfully, he had the good sense to lower it instead.
Graven snickered. “That’s more like it.”
“Amaya and the Skystone for Duaric,” Lockwood said to Graven, stepping into the circle. He clutched the Skystone conductor, now closed, at his side. “That’s the trade. I’ve delivered on my end. Unless this chatter serves a purpose, it’s time you deliver on yours.”
Will sneered, the expression distorting his perfect face. “You committed mutiny over some crackpot informant’s rumors?”
“You’re a hypocrite who’s been lying to me since the day we met,” Lockwood said, voice tight. “No more. Graven knows where Duaric is.”
Graven cackled. “You’re a fool, Markus. Where do you think William learned to lie so well?”
“You can find out,” Lockwood said, baring his teeth.
“I could, assuming there’s anything to be found, but Duaric’s whereabouts have no value to me,” Graven said, shrugging almost apologetically. “I’m grateful for your service nevertheless. Hand over the stone.”
Lockwood backed away, shoving the conductor back into his pocket and reaching for Deadeye. His eyes were bloodshot and his limbs quaked with rage.
“Over my—”
“Dead body? Fine by me. Warmest regards to your wife and daughter.”
Lockwood aimed Deadeye, but he wasn’t quick enough. Graven shot a blast of lightning at Lockwood’s chest right as he lifted his gun.
The bolt didn’t strike Lockwood directly, but it struck the relic . . . and that was enough.
Lightning crackled across the weapon, electrifying Lockwood’s hands first, then his chest. His body seized, limbs jerking in response to the electricity burning through his body.
Grace shrieked at the sight, and the terror in Lockwood’s eyes chased away the animosity Amaya held for him only moments earlier.
He fell to the floor with the grace of a wooden plank. His body continued to spasm for several long, excruciating seconds until, finally, he stilled.
Amaya blinked back tears, unable to tear her gaze away from Lockwood’s frozen, lifeless body.
Just like that. One hit from Stormfist—not even a good one—was all it took.
Will had Sixth Sense, but what chance did the rest of them have?
“Much better. Now, back to business.”
Amaya expected Graven to recover the Skystone first, but he didn’t; he turned his petrifying gaze on her.
She hated herself for the whimper that escaped her lips as he stalked forward, her feet futilely scraping against the floor as if she could push herself back. Grace shifted anxiously behind her.
“Victor, was it?” Will said, keeping his eyes fixed on Graven. If Lockwood’s sudden death affected him, he didn’t show it. “You and your men handle the automatons. Ford, you get the stone. Crowe, free the girls and get them out.”
He brandished Hellsgate.
“I’ll take care of the Baron.”