Chapter Ten
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RAHAB WAS TOO AGITATED to work out as he waited to hear from Deumos. He’d tried to contact the soldier for an update several times, but he hadn’t responded. He knew the five soldiers were still alive, since he hadn’t felt any of them expire yet.
“Where the hell are they?” he grumbled. His walky-talky crackled and he took it out of his pocket.
“Lord?” Phul said. “I just managed to contact Deumos.”
“Why hasn’t he reported back to me yet?” Rahab asked in annoyance.
“He said he followed the latest knight to a small island and discovered his youngling was living there,” Phul reported. “They got away and Deumos and his team are now twenty minutes out from Long Island. He’ll report directly to you as soon as he returns to Manhattan.”
“Did he mention which knight has arrived or what the cambion’s talent is?” Rahab queried.
“No, Lord,” his second in command said.
“Useless,” Rahab muttered without bothering to respond into the device.
He knew his minions all talked about him behind his back.
He’d overheard their whispers that always stopped whenever he was nearby.
Thanks to GG, his reputation had taken a blow.
He found it harder than usual to control his temper.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d gone on a rampage now.
Phul always found him afterwards. Thankfully, Rahab hadn’t gone completely berserk again.
One instance of coming out of his daze to find himself petting the blonde hair of a severed head had been enough to jolt some sense into him.
Twenty-five minutes later, he sensed five of his lackeys rapidly approaching. They slowed down and walked the rest of the way to the gym. He knew it was Deumos and his team even before the door opened.
Rahab pinned Deumos with a glacial glare as he entered the building. The other four soldiers remained outside with two of his guards. Muting the huge room filled with exercise equipment, Rahab crossed his arms and waited.
Deumos straightened his back and stared over his commander’s shoulder to give his report.
As always, arrogance poured from the warrior.
An inch taller than Rahab, he believed himself to be one of the most handsome Soldiers of Chaos.
In truth, he was average in looks compared to some of his squad members.
“As you ordered, my team and I waited on Long Island for the knight to appear after the gold comet was spotted,” Deumos began.
“A boat approached this morning and we sensed one of our foes was onboard. It was Urzra and he’s stronger than usual, just like the other knights who’ve arrived.
” He flicked a look at Rahab’s face and he nodded for him to continue.
“Urzra panicked and fled when I tried to disable him with a bullet,” Deumos said.
“We followed him to a small island and he led us directly to my youngling.”
“So, Urzra is supposed to become mated to your spawn,” Rahab said with a sneer. “What special talent does she possess that enabled both of them to escape from the five of you?”
“She can manipulate emotions, Lord,” Deumos said with a grimace.
“She was strong enough to convince us that we’d failed and that the house was empty.
Urzra hasn’t bonded with her yet, but he’s boosted her power anyway,” he figured.
“Her magic only began to wear off once we returned to the boat and were preparing to return here.”
“Did you return to her home and attempt to capture them again?” Rahab asked in a scornful tone.
“Of course, Lord,” Deumos said. “We followed them to a marina just as they were leaving in a boat. I tried to wound her so she couldn’t use her magic on us, but the wind kept ruining my aim.”
“Fate interfered yet again,” his boss said in annoyance.
“The other boats had been tampered with and the fuel tanks were empty,” Deumos said. “We weren’t able to follow them when they sped away.”
Fury pounded in Rahab’s head. Once again, they’d had a new couple within their grasp and they’d managed to escape unscathed. “Did you attempt to compel her to obey you?” he asked.
“I didn’t get the chance, Lord,” Deumos lied, cutting his eyes to the side. “She used her magic on me before I could try to forge a bond with her.”
Rahab snorted out an incredulous noise. “She’s long gone by now,” he said. “Get back to searching the other boroughs for the remaining cambions. That’s all you’re good for now.”
Deumos flinched at being dismissed like he was nothing and clenched his fists. With a stiff nod, he strode over to the door and exited from the gym.
“So, Jazmine’s knight still hasn’t arrived,” Rahab said as he resumed pacing.
He’d assumed the gold comet had heralded the appearance of the cambion’s mate.
Instead, Urzra had been given Deumos’ progeny.
“Which knight will become Jazmine’s partner?
” he wondered. He didn’t really care. Lachial had firm control of the female.
No longer feral, her skills to manipulate shadows would come in handy when her warrior finally showed up.
Chuckling beneath his breath, his mood improved enough to strip off his suit jacket and shirt and begin working out.
In her apartment further along 5th Avenue, Jazmine Sedaka sat on the couch, staring at the painting of the boy wearing blue.
A small, cruel smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
She’d been living here for three weeks now and felt comfortable in this place.
As always, the lights were off and she was shrouded in her shadows.
Her vision was keen enough for her to make out all the details of her beloved painting.
Lachial had provided her with food and clothing. She’d figured out how to use all of the appliances and was fully capable of looking after herself now. The hardest part was pretending to be docile.
“He has no idea what I do at night when he’s out searching for others like me,” she said, then laughed.
It only held a hint of the insanity she now had firm control of.
Like all of the soldiers, her sire only needed a few hours of sleep.
He was gone during the day as well, but it was too dangerous for her to leave the apartment when the sun was shining.
Her skills were far more useful at night.
Jazmine had been testing her abilities every night since her father had brought her here.
There were plenty of militants for her to practice on.
Using the shadows to hide herself, she stalked the humans when they were alone.
So far, she’d killed twenty of them. No one had a clue she was venturing out and slaughtering the people who were wearing white armbands.
She took them far away from their friends and coworkers so she could hide the mess she’d made.
“I’m getting better each time I use my talents to kill,” she gloated.
Every target she’d taken down had possessed a black soul.
The humans who arrived in Manhattan were vetted by the Soldiers of Chaos now.
Only the ones who were truly evil were turned into mercenaries.
The others were sent to the farms and factories.
Every single man and woman she’d slain so far would have killed her in a heartbeat if they’d had the opportunity.
Lachial had almost caught her out of her apartment a couple of times.
She’d managed to return just before he could sense she wasn’t where she was meant to be.
Not even her bloodlust overwhelmed her new level of focus.
Jazmine knew her sanity would probably fracture again if her father died.
Their partial link was the only thing keeping her mind stable.
He would have to be the last one she slaughtered.
She just hoped her skills would improve to the point where she would become an unstoppable force of darkness.
Her smile widened as she envisioned the blood that would be spilled on not just the streets of Manhattan, but on every street in this country and beyond.
Lachial was searching through a neighborhood in Queens when he shivered suddenly.
None of his guards noticed. They were too focused on scanning the houses around them.
It was boring scouring the boroughs for his fellow soldiers’ younglings.
Lachial only occasionally got to have some fun by randomly murdering humans now.
Rahab had ordered them to use mind control to send the remaining survivors to Manhattan.
They were processed and were sent to their new jobs to become slaves.
His thoughts went to his daughter, who was probably staring in fixation at the painting he’d stolen from a gallery for her right now.
He would never admit it to anyone, but the female gave him the creeps.
Jazmine was now docile rather than feral, yet he sensed she was still dangerous.
The cambion would end his life in an instant if his control of her mind slipped.
That was why he rarely visited her at night.
He always flicked the lights on before entering her apartment if they were turned off.
She was always in the same spot on the couch, staring at the boy in the painting.
He almost wished he hadn’t given it to her, but it helped keep her calm. The last thing he wanted was for the shadow wielder to become agitated and tear himself or his guards apart. He’d seen the aftermath of what she could do and it still haunted him.