Chapter 28 #3
Bastard! I hoisted my sword above my head, and catapulted it—not at him, but close enough. The target I’d been aiming for was struck. His cloak. I’d torn right through the cape folded over his shoulder.
“You bitch!” he screamed, murder in his eyes as he faced me again. “I’ll fucking kill you! I don’t care what the reward is for turning you in!”
“Get in line,” I gritted, stabbing my sword. I pierced the akadim’s thigh. But I barely made a scratch. Shit. These daywalking demons were small, but their skin and muscles were just as tough as any other akadim’s to break through.
“I will,” the soturion growled, and he started charging back. Gods. He was bleeding from his arm, and I was currently battling a fucking akadim. Apparently, for him, petty revenge was more important than his actual Godsdamned safety. Or mine. Or his friend’s.
The demon turned, grabbing the soturion by the neck and squeezing hard. The Kormac soldier wheezed, his feet kicking helplessly as he was lifted into the air. Then the akadim reached for his armor.
No! No! He was going to eat his soul. He was going to—
I didn’t think, I just acted. And I threw my second sword, screaming as I put all of my strength behind it. This time I struck. Not enough to cut the beast’s arm off as I’d intended. But enough to impale his bicep.
The akadim roared, his eyes burning with fire. But he didn’t turn on me.
He finished ripping the soldier’s armor off, tearing through his tunic, and spreading the material open. The akadim pursed his lips together, as white light began to stream from the soturion’s chest, a small black hole taking over his heart.
I screamed in horror. Seeing Rhyan again, helpless in the akadim’s arms. Injured and dying, the brilliant light of his soul pouring out of his heart. A black shadow across his chest.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe. My vision blurred with tears and a fire that was raging inside of me. I couldn’t see this. I couldn’t see this happen again. Even if this soturion was a fucking asshole, I didn’t want to see him lose his soul. I had to do something. I had to act.
But I was out of fucking swords. That stupid fucking idiot had taken all of my spares.
I stilled.
Except for one …
The red shard. I reached over my shoulder, my fingers wrapping around the hilt as I brandished it in the fading sunset.
Small flames erupted along the sharpened edge, the crystal glowing as heat spread to my hand.
A heat mirrored in my heart. And then I charged, with no more thoughts, except for one.
Stop the threat. Stop the threat.
I stabbed the blade through the akadim’s belly, grunting and pushing with all of my muscle. The akadim screeched, his hand opening in surprise.
The soldier fell to the ground, screaming and crawling away, before getting back to his feet. He ran forward, stumbled onto all fours, and then got up again, his arms flailing as he ran.
I used the moment the akadim was distracted to pull my other sword out from his arm.
He hollered in pain, and I retrieved the red shard next.
I pounced, a blade in both hands, crossing the swords in the air, and pressing them both against his neck like scissors. With the right amount of pressure, I could decapitate him. And from the look in his eyes, and the blood spouting from his stomach, he knew it.
But I wasn’t going to kill him. Not yet.
“Have you seen Rhyan?” I asked, my chest heaving. “Rhyan Hart? Lord Rhyan Hart. He’s an akadim, too. Have you seen him? An akadim named Rhyan. In a collar like yours.”
His eyes glowed, blood spouting from his stomach. “You ask too many questions,” he hissed.
“Rhyan! Rhyan Hart!” I demanded again. “Do you know an akadim named Rhyan? Have you seen him? Tell me and I’ll let you live.”
“Let me live.” He laughed.
“Tell me!” I roared, pushing the blades together. His eyes bulged out, and blood seeped to his shoulders. “An akadim called Rhyan! Rhyan Hart! Rhyan Hart!”
A sadistic grin spread across his face, his fangs protruding past his lips.
“LYRIANA!” Auriel screamed.
I looked back. Both akadim were on the ground. Their heads cut off. Dead. Permanently dead. Their souls lost to the in-between, never to return. Nor pass on—not until the years passed, their natural lives over.
Tears pricked my eyes. Sorrow for the first time at a dead akadim. An akadim I wouldn’t be able to save. The other soturion though had survived. He was on his knees, bleeding from a slash to his forehead.
“Too many questions,” my akadim growled. “And I’m hungry. So feed me, fuck me, or kill me.”
I whirled around, but suddenly, his claws lifted, slashing through my arms. I was standing too close. Again.
I screamed in pain, my hands opening. Both swords fell to the ground. I stumbled back, but the akadim grabbed my waist with both hands.
“Stop!” I yelled. My feet were kicking now, dangling in the air as he lifted me higher, so much higher than should have been possible.
I could hear Auriel behind me, screaming my name, commanding the akadim to put me down.
But he sounded distant. Because all I could hear was my thundering pulse.
I kicked again, trying to pry his hands from my waist. But it was impossible.
He was too strong, and now, my arms were badly injured.
I couldn’t reach my weapons. I had nothing to fight with.
They were all strewn across the ground. My swords. My dagger. The red shard.
But not the stars on my belt.
With a grunt of pain, I bent forward, and ripped one off of its leather strap. My arm screamed in agony as I slashed the star across his neck.
Blood spurted, but not enough. Not fucking enough. He smiled viciously, baring his fangs.
What the fuck!
No matter how many times I cut or injured him, he just kept fighting. And then his mouth opened as he started pulling me in—his eyes on my neck. He wanted my blood.
I kicked wildly, and then froze as something bright red pierced through his chest.
The shard.
Auriel had caught up to us.
The akadim dropped me at once, and I scrambled back to my feet, trying to grab the swords.
But I couldn’t do more than wrap my fingers around the hilt.
I couldn’t lift them. My arms were too cut up.
And then with my adrenaline slowing, the full force of my injuries came on me.
I couldn’t control my fingers. I was going numb.
The blade vanished from his chest, as Auriel pulled it out.
The demon collapsed.
“Wait!” I yelled. Auriel was already rushing around, gathering my weapons.
“Meka, we need to go! Now!”
“But the blade! It went through his chest. What if he turns back? What if he’s cured?”
Auriel shook his head. “We don’t have time! We don’t have time to find out!” Auriel had strapped every weapon to himself, his eyes widening. “Fuck! You’re hurt! Again.” He hoisted me into his arms.
“Auriel, wait!”
“Lyriana,” he growled, “we have to go. More are coming!” But our akadim was still alive. Still breathing.
I twisted out of his hold, running back to the akadim.
“Do you know Rhyan?” I shouted again, on the verge of hysteria.
“LYRIANA!” Auriel grabbed me, and was running now, back to the woodland. One ashvan remained, kicking at the suntree he was tied to, angry and scared.
The akadim laughed cruelly.
And I tried one more time. “RHYAN HART!”
“Not Rhyan Hart,” the akadim said, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. “Arkturion Rhyan.”
“Arkturion?” I asked. “Auriel put me down!”
“No!” he said, his voice low.
Because over my shoulder, a new horde of akadim had appeared. Collared. Unfamiliar. Blood was dripping from their mouths, and had been splashed across their tunics. Whoever they’d fought had lost. And now they were running toward us.
We reached the woodland, and Auriel hoisted me onto the ashvan, quickly cutting the rope. A second later he climbed up behind me, wrapping one arm tightly around my waist, and the other he used to reach forward for the reins.
“Vra! ” he commanded, and the horse, more than ready to run away from the chaos, took off. His hooves stamped through the woodland, swerving around the trees.
“Shit! Shit,” Auriel hissed. “They’re coming after us. We need to get into the sky, or we’re dead. Volara,” he roared. “Fly! Fly!”
The ashvan raced faster and faster until I caught the hint of blue lights sparking under its hooves. I felt it rear back, its front legs lifting and kicking out, and then we were flying, lifting off the ground. I stared down, numb. The demons had reached the woodland.
But there was only one I cared about. The one Auriel had stabbed. His glowing red eyes were still visible in the dark. He was still alive. Still an akadim.
He hadn’t been cured. He hadn’t changed. He’d been stabbed with the red shard. With the shard that was meant to cure him. But it hadn’t worked.
My heart sank.
There was a logical explanation. There had to be. Like maybe because Auriel had wielded the blade, and not me. Therefore, the shard was incomplete—missing the light I carried inside. Or maybe it was because he’d missed the heart.
When we found Rhyan, I’d be the one to stab him. I’d have the sword, and my light. I wouldn’t miss. It would work. He’d be cured.
But my stomach still twisted. Worry and fear nauseating my stomach. My arms were on fire, and I could do little more than lean back against Auriel and close my eyes.
Because there was another crushing sensation weighing down on me. The akadim had known Rhyan.
He’d called him Arkturion.