CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rain pattered against the roof as I stared down at Michael’s message for the thousandth time.
I’d been looking at it so long that the lines had started to blur, the shapes becoming even more meaningless, if that was possible. The sounds of the storm didn’t help. Every time the thunder rumbled, it felt like a giant voice trying to warn me, to rush me. He’s coming. Hurry. Hurry.
I was about to start a fresh pot of coffee when the door to the loft opened, and Emma came inside.
She was wearing a pink raincoat, and she’d recently permed her hair and dyed it yellow.
As Emma hung her glistening umbrella on the hook, the image she made felt like a page from a children’s book.
Despite my exhaustion, I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth.
My amusement faded when Emma turned and I saw the expression on her face. “What’s wrong?” I asked instantly.
“You better get down there.” Emma gestured to the stairwell, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. I nodded and rose from my chair, hurrying to the hook where my coat hung.
Less than ten seconds later, I shoved the downstairs door open and walked outside. Laurie and Damon were in the yard, both of them holding swords. A small, strange crowd had gathered around them, watching whatever was happening between the Seelie King and my brother.
I did a swift assessment of who was here.
Seth sat on the porch steps, and Gil stood slightly above him, resting his weight on the railing.
They must’ve just driven over, since Seth’s car was now parked behind mine.
Cyrus rested against the side of his truck, his hands shoved in his pockets.
The tense line to his shoulders belied the casual stance, and told me that Emma hadn’t been exaggerating—something was wrong.
Ariel stood beside Cyrus, her arms crossed.
She was frowning, too. I went over to them, darting glances at what appeared to be a training session.
“What’s going on?” I asked Ariel, assessing the situation. At least Laurie and Damon were using practice swords. The blades were metal, but the edges were dull.
“Your brother asked for some pointers,” Ariel said, but I barely heard her. All I could focus on was my brother now. A cut bled on his shoulder, and one of his eyes was swollen. Without another word to Ariel, I rushed toward the fighters.
I was still several yards away when Laurie knocked my brother down.
The sound of Damon’s body hitting the hard ground made me see red. I got to them just in time to hear Laurie say, “You aren’t fit for the battlefield, Nightmare.”
Damon glared up at him. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. I asked you—”
“You asked me to prepare you,” Laurie countered. “Part of that is evaluating your skill. And my conclusion is that no amount of training will prepare you for what we’ll face on Olorel.”
My brother’s cheeks were red with humiliation. I stood beside Laurie now, but the Seelie King didn’t acknowledge my presence. I was about to reach for Damon when Laurie spoke again, and his tone made me pause.
“You are not weak, Damon Sworn. I met Jassin Sarwraek. For you to have survived him for so long, and create a new life after him, must take a very impressive individual.” Laurie stepped closer, and he offered his hand. “So don’t be weak now.”
After a brief hesitation, Damon took it and allowed Laurie to help him up. As he rose from the ground, Laurie pulled Damon close and murmured something. They parted and turned to me at the same time. I glared at Laurie, my nostrils flaring. “I’ll deal with you later,” I muttered.
Laurie quirked a brow. “Promise?”
A blaze of temper went through me. I disregarded the Seelie King and examined my brother, holding his face toward the weak daylight.
He’d definitely have a black eye, but the damage didn’t look too extensive.
Laurie must’ve pulled his punches. Damon was still breathing hard, and there was a gleam of perspiration near his temple. Even that slow scrimmage had tired him.
However much I didn’t want to admit it, Laurie was right—if Damon stepped onto that battlefield, he would die. Or get the rest of us killed by taking our focus off the fight while we were trying to protect him.
But that didn’t mean Laurie was off the hook, I thought, looking hard at the cut on Damon’s shoulder. Something inside me turned to stone.
No one embarrassed my little brother but me.
I grasped the hilt of the practice sword Damon still held, my fingers lacing between his.
He gave me a questioning look as he released it.
I responded with a quick, reassuring smile before I turned again.
My smile faded when I fixed my attention on Laurie, and I pictured him delivering the blow that had left Damon bleeding.
“Since you have so generously taken it upon yourself to teach my brother a lesson, I’d like to do the same for you,” I told him.
The Seelie King had been examining his nails. He looked up when I started speaking, and his eyebrows rose at my words. “Darling, I know you’ve been training with your vampires, but I’m in a different league than a couple of corpses,” he warned.
“Oi!” Gil called indignantly. “I think I’m offended!”
“Get in line,” Laurie called back, never taking his eyes off me.
I shrugged. “Prove it. Let’s see.”
Laurie’s lips curved. “Very well. Shall we make this more—”
“No bargains, Laurie,” I cut in flatly. “Just you and me. Right here, right now.”
“I live to serve, my lady,” the Seelie King said with an elegant bow.
That little smile hovered around his mouth as he backed away, swinging his sword upright.
I felt a prickle of anticipation, knowing I was about to make it vanish.
I got into position, and by now I’d done it so many times that my sword felt like an extension of myself, just as Adam had promised.
Laurie hadn’t been here for any of our training.
He hadn’t seen what I was capable of … and that was exactly what I was counting on.
If I’d learned anything during my time amongst the Fallen, there were two things that could take down a power player—stupidity or arrogance.
Laurie was no idiot, but he had the latter in spades.
To his credit, Laurie figured out pretty quickly that he’d made a mistake.
I moved faster than he anticipated, spinning past his defenses to cut his shoulder in the same place he’d cut Damon.
By the time Laurie tried to swipe at me, I had already danced out of his reach.
He blinked, and his gaze met mine. Just as I’d predicted, Laurie wasn’t smiling anymore.
The clash of our swords echoed through the yard.
Our bodies were blurs of motion as Laurie tested me again and again, trying to find weaknesses in my defense.
There were none. I allowed myself to be guided by my instincts, and the remnants of the ancient angel that still lived in my veins.
My movements were swift and precise. When Laurie showed his first sign of tiring, I switched my sword to my left hand and gave his weapon a hard shove that forced him to take a step.
At the same moment he sank his weight into it, I lifted my leg to meet his momentum.
And then I knocked Laurelis Dondarte, King of the Seelie Court, right on his ass.
The sound his body made as it hit the ground sent a surge of satisfaction through me. Gil whistled, and I heard someone else mutter, “Holy shit.”
“Were you planning to tell me that Fortuna has Michael’s power?” Laurie muttered as Collith hauled him upright. I hadn’t even noticed his arrival.
“It’s my power now,” I put in, giving Laurie a hard look. “I appreciate what you were trying to show my brother, but if you ever hurt him again, I won’t come at you with a training sword.”
Laurie gave me an inscrutable look. “Noted.”
Everyone else had already started to disperse, probably to give us space.
The tension wasn’t exactly subtle. It had eased now, since I’d said what I needed to say to Laurie.
But even though our fight was over, I was glad the others had made themselves scarce—there was someone else I needed to talk to.
“Come on, little brother,” I said, wrapping my arm around Damon’s shoulder. I was careful not to touch his cut. “Let’s get out of this rain.”
Damon’s mouth was tight, as if he knew what was coming, but he nodded.
I steered us toward Cyrus’s porch, which was always dry.
I ascended the short flight of stairs and sat on the top step.
Damon settled next to me, leaning his elbows on his knees.
He didn’t give me a chance to start the speech I’d been practicing in my head.
“I’m not staying behind, Fortuna,” he said firmly. “Not this time.”
The careful speech dissipated, and all the reasonable words on my tongue faded.
For a moment, I considered it again. I wanted to give my brother the choice as I had with Cyrus, and Gil, and all the others I loved who were coming with me to face Lucifer.
But then I pictured it—Damon trying to fight not only one demon, but thousands of them, swinging his sword just as clumsily as he had a few minutes ago—and the image almost made me shudder.
When I refocused on him, I didn’t try to hide how scared I was. My voice was harsh as I said, “You’ll be a target on that field, Damon. You’re my weakness, and everyone knows it.”
After I’d spoken, he was silent for a moment.
I could tell from the shadow in his eyes that he wanted to argue, because recognizing the truth didn’t make it easier to bear.
My brother’s jaw clenched so hard it looked painful, and he turned his head away, probably to hide the pain in his expression.
His voice floated to me through the soft, pattering rain and the cool damp.
“I can’t stand by and let my family fight while I’m safe at home. ”