57. Infiltrate
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
INFILTRATE
Saya Claymore
Mum put a glamour over me, then taught me how, but I forgot. For all these years, it was all me, and now I’m doing it, but not to hide myself from myself. I am doing it to infiltrate one of the prayer sanctuaries to save my brother and Avianna’s husband.
I open my eyes to Serun, then to Avianna and Olivia, as they watch from nearby. Olivia doesn’t meet my gaze. She has been like that since we woke up. It will take her time to trust me again—and perhaps the healing and tending to her wounds may have been invasive.
I didn’t think of that until now.
“Did my eye colour change?”
“Warm brown,” Serun says. “I don’t like it.”
Breathing a laugh, I touch his long, clawed hand. “We should go. I want to get this done quickly.”
His pearly eyes drift from me to Avianna and Olivia. “If you do not hear from us by tomorrow night, flee to the Undercity and warn Maeve so she can take the appropriate measures.”
We turn to leave when Olivia says, “Saya…” Looking back at her, her guarded red eyes keep darting to me and away. “Thank you…”
Her voice is so quiet that my ears can’t quite catch what she says at first. But when I do, warmth spreads through my bones and muscles. “Be careful, Olivia. Some may consider you human.”
She smiles, her exposed eye crinkling, her hands clasped together.
“We will hunt, in case anything goes awry,” Avianna says. Her gaze lifts to the prayer sanctuary above us. Pools of light radiate across the rocky hill. Without another word, she steps into the shadows, hidden from the moonlight. Olivia follows a heartbeat later, leaving only Serun and me.
Towards the prayer sanctuary, my anxiety spikes at the enormous creature near the path.
This must be the one Reyes killed to protect Avianna.
It has swords for arms, with one torn off and near its head.
The creature reeks of rot, and buzzing flies and writhing maggots infest its open belly, organs exposed in stringy ribbons.
Serun’s eyes narrow, and he lures me onto the path on the right.
“Are you sure they will accept me?” My voice wavers. Whatever confidence I had in the cavern fades as fast as air escaping an inflatable balloon.
“You are human, and prayer sanctuaries are for humans, as much as the slayers want to deny it. They won’t question why you are there, and most would assume you came to pray, since most humans cling to the hope of hearing Mother’s words in their ears.
” He draws me close, and we step off the path and behind one of the many rocky outcrops that litter the hill.
“What do I do when I’m inside again?”
“Find the church and make sure the only one there is the white coat.”
“Why would this white coat be there?”
“They want to act like gods in the eyes of mere humans. He will have a keycard on him.” Serun steps towards me, closing the gap.
“Take it. Steal it from him. I don’t know, but I also don’t know how else to do this.
We cannot penetrate Mother’s light. Landing a bomb on it will be like a fly caught in the wind.
Her exterior is impenetrable, but her core is weak. ”
“I know. But what else can we do? Wait?”
He runs his tongue along his upper teeth. “What if your not-lover sees you?”
“I will be careful.” I step closer to him. “Now focus. What do I do once I have the keycard?”
“There is an elevator that will lead up to the lighthouse.”
“How do you know so much?”
“Humans from the Undercity tell me through the lure when I ask.” He reaches up, cupping my face.
His sharp claws skim under my eye before he crushes his mouth against mine, devouring air.
My heart. My very fucking soul. Silk slips into my mouth, dancing with my tongue in a desperate bid to cling to this moment.
“Serun,” I say, pressed against his mouth as he attacks me with kisses.
“Give me this moment, consort.” Serun leans down, grabs my thighs, and lifts me into his arms. “I want my scent to cling to you. Make you mine for eternity.”
Our tongues twirl, my body jolting with lust at the pinched ache between my legs. But before my mind tells me to fuck him now, I grab his shoulders and pull away after one final swipe of our tongues. “Serun, if anything happens—”
“Naylen will fall,” he says, and whatever shimmer of adoration dies, and he stares at me with that deathly blank expression. “Use the orb, Saya.”
He releases his grip on me, and my hand rests in my pocket, near the dagger strapped to my thigh. I’m not wearing what I normally wear, but something familiar. It seems I can’t part with clothes that remind me of Darkovish Feeding Ground, for I am back in a white gown and barefoot.
Serun believes they will think I am a Feeder. Most won’t find it unusual.
“I will use it if I need to,” I whisper.
Serun crushes his lips against mine. A flutter slaughters mine, leaving me no room to salivate before he breaks away and steps back. “Once the light vanishes, I will be with you in a heartbeat.”
“My heartbeat or yours?”
Shadows peel away from Serun as he grabs me by the hip, drawing me into him. My hands go to the sides of his face, and when we are a breath away, he pecks me on the lips and says, “Punishment for making jokes before you leave me, consort.”
Laughing, I say, “Very well, nightwalker. Don’t miss me too much.”
“You consume my every thought. I doubt my ability not to miss you.”
This time, I’m the one to step away from him. Shadows slip back over his face, covering his body. The only part of him visible is those orb-like neon eyes that cut through the darkness.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way up the hill.
I pinch my pocket, touch the orb, and keep it near in case I need to use it.
The closer I get to the prayer sanctuary, the more my body turns to ice.
My muscles tense, gripping my bones and webbing around my marrow.
Warning signals flash through my body, telling me to turn around.
An aura of light shimmers on the stone, and with one more step I’m inside. Intense light blinds me for a moment, and I wince, shying away even as I keep moving forward.
With every step, shapes form. Through the light, a cathedral appears. Towers with pointed roofs and hundreds of windows. This cold white light radiates from it—an aura that throbs around every arched stained window and yellow limestone wall.
Two slayers stand at the entrance on either side.
I’d like to believe they are human, but the unfriendly look in both their eyes when they notice me tells me they are slayers.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I relax my grip on the orb to keep myself composed.
The orb and dagger will still be there if I need them. No need to keep reaching for it.
“What are you doing here?” the man on the right says. He has dark blue eyes, a scar running down his brow, and trimmed, waxed dark hair. He wears slacks, thick boots, and a buttoned-up shirt tight across his muscular arms.
Definitely a slayer.
Tension grips my throat at the gun strapped to his waist, and heat flushes my chest where Jax’s brother shot me.
“I came from the feeding ground and was looking for sanctuary…”
The other, with light blue eyes, a shaved head, and tanned skin, looks me up and down, grimacing. “Darkovish Feeding Ground?”
I lick my cracked lips, reminding myself of how I used to do things before entering the Undercity. Don’t show my fangs and keep my glamour in check. “Yes… I… There were these—”
“Enter,” the one who asked says, nodding his head. “Talk to reception.”
I blink slowly, digesting their disinterest.
I take a moment before my body moves in response to my mind. I nod, and when I do, both look at each other and scoff with a mocking laugh. Humans are beneath them. Humour in the eyes of the elite.
The cathedral entrance has stained-glass windows on either side. Patterns and shapes form objects. A shield. A bow and arrow. Weapons with white flames, made from triangles and squares.
Mother’s light?
As I move down the narrow hallway, my gaze lingers on the last one on the right. A sword with vines twisting around the hilt. Vervain flowers bloom down to the tip.
“Hey!” the slayer at the entrance snaps. The scar across his brow crinkles as he glares at me. “Reception, then you can fucking gawk, human.”
Human. They act like nightwalkers.
Entering the cathedral, I gasp at the high ceiling.
Rows of windows line the walls, layered over one another, reminding me of a glasshouse.
There’s a fountain in the centre of the space, sculpted as what everyone perceives Mother to look like, with a river of tears flowing from her eyes.
Children sit by it, coloured coins between them, playing a game.
They’re dressed in white, with plastic wrapped around their wrists.
People walk around, but the mean look in their eyes tells me not to stare for too long.
They’re slayers on a mission. Then, a spark of fear trembles in my bones as I realise the slayer who shot me will be here.
He is Jax’s brother. Why wouldn’t he be?
The last time he saw me, he didn’t hesitate to put a bullet in me.
Fuck.