A Battle of Souls Read online

  Jax was still struggling with Farrah. And Emilian didn’t look ready to engage me again.

  I still had a shot to bring him down, sooner rather than later.

  Just as I took the first step forward, Patrik’s voice rose above the others.

  “Everybody, step away from the front wall!” he shouted.

  His hands lit up blue as he sent out a pulse that shattered the walls. I glanced down at his feet, where he’d drawn a slew of swamp witch symbols in blood to perform that spell. The mansion split open, and the fight spilled outside.

  It gave us some much-needed room, as Scarlett and the others pushed the hostiles out. Hundurr howled, then proceeded to tear into some of the Correction Officers that had surrounded Idris and Rayna. He jumped over several bodies and snapped his jaws over a Mara’s head, dragging him outside.

  I spotted another CO sneaking up on Caia.

  “Caia! Behind you!” I shouted.

  I didn’t get to see whether she got him before he got her, as Emilian charged at me, roaring with rage. I dodged his knife and sword but missed the lateral kick. His leg hit my side, cracking several ribs. I grunted and fell, landing on my shoulder.

  “Tell you what.” Emilian chuckled. “I shouldn’t be the one to kill you. I’ll let one of these weaklings you’re so desperate to protect finish you off,” he added, then snapped his fingers.

  Two of the Imen who had hidden beneath a nearby table came out, instantly and fully mind-bent. Peyton had missed them in his endeavor to override the Lords’ hypnotic powers. They picked up the swords of fallen COs and headed straight for me.

  I was losing blood from my abdomen wound, and my ribs hurt too much for me to move straight away. I had to think fast. Emilian watched the Imen he’d mind-bent come toward me. The smirk on his face made my blood boil.

  Only then did I notice I’d fallen next to Garros’s body. Whomever in our group had done it, I owed them a big “Thank you!”. We’d all been busy fighting, making it impossible for any of us to keep track of the bodies dropping, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was dead, too.

  I briefly scanned his belt and found a small leather pouch. I reached out, struggling to ignore the burning pain spreading through my torso, and retrieved the pouch. The Imen reached me and raised their swords, their expressions blank. I managed to open the small bag and found yellow dust inside.

  I scooped out a handful and blew it at them. They both stilled and wheezed as they inhaled the yellow cloud. Their eyes rolled into their heads. They fell backward, their swords clanging as they landed on the floor.

  Emilian cursed under his breath and rushed to kill me himself, but I managed to scoop out some more of the yellow powder and blew it at him. He yelped as he came to a grinding halt, then took several steps back. He didn’t inhale enough to knock him out, but I could tell from the way he started shaking his head that he was having some trouble.

  “This is it,” I muttered to myself.

  I pushed myself up, crying out from the pain, but managed to stand, once again.

  Retrieving my broadsword from the floor, I raised it before me, seeing my reflection in its blade.

  “You’ve served me well,” I whispered. I sometimes felt like my weapon had a heart of its own in some ways, enduring and gracious, deadly and purifying, like a dragon’s fire. “Serve me once more.”

  Drawing from the energy I’d felt when I killed Goren back on Calliope, I took deep, albeit painful breaths, and went for Emilian’s head. He was blinking rapidly, trying to counteract the dazing effects of the powder. He managed to block several hits, but I roared and slashed even harder.

  First, he lost his sword.

  Then he lost his left arm. He screamed as blood spurted out in thick jets from his elbow.

  I swung my bejeweled sword as if it were an extension of my very soul, and—swish.

  Emilian’s head came clean off his shoulders.

  Rowan and Farrah both howled, temporarily distraught, giving both Jax and Scarlett the windows they needed to gain the advantage.

  I stood there, with Emilian’s body at my feet, watching as Scarlett cut through Rowan’s defenses. The young vampire was ruthless and incredibly fast. She flashed around Rowan, delivering a flurry of cuts all over the Mara Lady’s face and body. Rowan cried out in pain, overwhelmed by the increasing speed and depth of Scarlett’s attacks.

  She dropped to her knees. The trouble with Maras’ healing abilities was that they needed a breather here and there for the body to get to work and start closing up the wounds. What Scarlett had done was overload Rowan’s natural system, repeatedly cutting into her so many times that the Mara’s mental state was dismantled.

  Scarlett stopped in front of Rowan and put the tip of her sword against her throat.

  “You have two choices here,” Scarlett declared. “You live, or you die. I’m fine with either.”

  A couple of seconds passed as Rowan considered her options, then lowered her head in simmering shame. I had a feeling she’d try something stupid, but Scarlett would have none of it. Whatever came next, Rowan was royally screwed.

  Farrah had some fight still left in her. Jax leaned backward to avoid her blade, then came back with both swords in an ample, downward move. He put all his strength in that blow, and it showed. One of the blades cut halfway through her forearm.

  She cried out and moved back, keeping her distance as Jax slowly circled in, ready to deliver another hit.

  “Give up, Farrah,” Jax said.

  Around us, the fight was gradually thinning. Our crew was taking the Correction Officers down, one by one. Arrah lay on the ground, pale and lifeless, just ten feet away from Rowan and Scarlett.

  Farrah, however, wasn’t ready to call it quits just yet. She grinned, then produced a small whistle from a secret dress pocket. She blew it; a faint hiss came out. The sound was released at a different frequency that only the Maras seemed to react to, as Jax cringed, visibly uncomfortable.

  Within seconds, more Correction Officers emerged from the other Lords’ mansions.

  I counted fifty of them as they gathered around us with their weapons drawn.

  “I’ve always had my little faction ready, scattered across the Houses, ready to serve me when the time was right,” Farrah replied.

  Rowan gave her a confused sideways glance, which prompted Farrah to scoff, no longer hiding her contempt.

  “You’ve been planning to overthrow the Lords, haven’t you?” Jax asked, slightly amused.

  Farrah shrugged. “A Lady must look after herself. It was only going to be a matter of time before I’d have to take matters into my own hands, or before we all got ourselves killed by the daemons. Had you fools not intervened, I would’ve had my COs come in and stop that circus.”

  “You bitch,” Rowan muttered, a muscle ticking in her jaw.

  “No hard feelings, darling,” Farrah retorted. “I wasn’t going to kill you or the others. But with all your bickering, I knew I’d have to be the level-headed one and take over before you all lost it!” she added. “Darius was a greedy bastard. Emilian’s conceit… Well, see for yourself,” she said, pointing at his corpse. “You were too busy coddling Vincent, the city’s most obnoxious coward! And don’t even get me started on Caspian. He was the worst of you all!”

  “So, what, you thought you’d just overthrow the Lordships and rule over Azure Heights, all by yourself?” I interjected, moving closer to Jax as my gaze wandered around us.

  The Correction Officers were ready to fight, but I was more interested in seeing what was going on behind them—specifically, on the lower levels. I got closer to Jax and the edge of the seventh level platform, then craned my neck, and smiled before shifting my focus back to Farrah.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Obviously,” she replied. “This city needs a level-headed ruler. But first, I need to wipe you idiots off the face of this planet.”

  I chuckled. “Your efforts and acolytes will be wasted,” I shot back
. “Our allies are making their way up here. You’re done for.”

  We could hear the swords clashing. The screams. The roars and the cries for help.

  The temperature started to drop, as well. The Dhaxanians were getting closer.

  But then I registered another sound, one that sent shivers down my spine. I’d heard it before, during the war against Azazel and, most recently, on Ragnar Peak.

  Farrah looked to her left, then burst into hysterical laughter. It wasn’t a symptom of joy, but rather one of madness, a maniacal cackle of the overly ambitious fiend who had gotten a glimpse of her own demise.

  I followed her gaze and felt my muscles stiffen at once.

  “We’re all screwed, darling,” Farrah murmured, suddenly and eerily calm.

  “Daemons,” I croaked.

  Thousands of them, coming in dark, square patches across the two-mile fields between the Valley of Screams and the mountain. Those were drums of war I was hearing. Above them, dark clouds of Death Claws swarmed, flying toward the mountain base.

  Our allies had breached the city, but, soon enough, the daemon armies were going to hit them hard from the back. Our only hope was with Lumi.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Farrah then said. “I’ll kill you all before they get here.”

  I felt my lips stretch into a grin. After Emilian, despite the blaring pain in my side, I looked forward to taking Farrah down, as well. Jax and I briefly glanced at each other—a silent moment, a mutual, unspoken agreement. We both raised our blades once again and looked at Farrah.

  This is it.

  Just a little while longer.

  Harper

  Zane took several steps forward, leaving us behind.

  He drew his rapier, ready to square off with his father. I looked around, watching the daemons and Correction Officers move in.

  “I told you all to stay back!” Shaytan snarled, his voice thundering throughout the entire neighborhood.

  They all froze, while we held our positions, our faces partially obscured by our cloaks.

  “Father, don’t be foolish. Stop this before it’s too late,” Zane said.

  Shaytan scoffed, then took out a handful of blue powder from a small satchel tied to his massive gold belt. “First of all, let’s cut this invisibility crap. It’s annoying,” he replied, then blew the dust out.

  It scattered into a bluish cloud that engulfed us. Within seconds, our invisibility spells were broken, and we were once again visible. That must have been some kind of water-related swamp witch magic, as I could feel the moist particles tickling my skin.

  “Second, let’s cut the ‘give up’ crap, too,” Shaytan added. “It’s unbecoming. I didn’t raise you to be a coward. You’ve gone against your own father and kingdom, and that takes balls, my son. Don’t make a fool of yourself now that this whole debacle is coming to an end.”

  Zane and Shaytan faced each other, with just five feet of supercharged space between them. The tension oozing from their standoff was starting to weigh us all down, in a way. The daemon king, the most feared of all the hostile creatures on Neraka, stood tall and proud, holding his bejeweled staff. His son, the rebel daemon that had come to our side in favor of a free Neraka, faced him with his chin up and his sword ready.

  “You’re right about one thing,” Zane replied. “It all ends here. Now.”

  Shaytan took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he measured his son from head to toe. “I will rule Neraka forever, Zane. And there is nothing you can do about that.”

  Zane cocked his head to one side. “I can try.”

  “Tell you what. Defeat your brothers,” Shaytan replied, slightly amused. “Kill them, and then I’ll consider fighting you.”

  “Are you afraid?” Zane shot back.

  Shaytan chuckled, his contempt obvious. “Don’t insult me, you little brat. I just want to see if you’re worth my time. Last time we sparred, I beat the living daylights out of you and your mother begged me to spare you.”

  The daemon king didn’t give Zane the opportunity to reply. Instead, he stepped back, allowing Abeles and another daemon warrior to come in. Both drew their swords and came at Zane, roaring. Fiona groaned.

  “Oh, hell no! You don’t get to have all the fun, Zane!” she shouted.

  Fiona darted from our side and joined Zane in the fight. The daemon guards moved to intervene, as did the COs, but Shaytan’s hand shot out to the side.

  “Don’t!” he ordered them, then smirked, watching Fiona and Zane against Abeles and the daemon warrior. “I want to see how this plays out.”

  I had to give Shaytan a mental thank you. By keeping the fighters back, he was inadvertently giving me the precious minutes I needed to devise an attack plan. While he enjoyed the theatricality and the showmanship of a good old-fashioned fight to the death between his own sons, I carefully analyzed every daemon and Mara stationed outside the Palisade.

  Fiona’s strength gave her a tremendous advantage against the daemon warrior, who was basically three times her size. She dodged his attacks and returned with hard offensive moves. Her short sword was made of an extremely light alloy, allowing her to deliver multiple hits in the span of seconds.

  Zane, on the other hand, had his work cut out for him with Abeles, who was noticeably larger. But Zane had his speed and agility working for him; he moved around his brother and slashed at his sides before withdrawing and shifting his position again. He didn’t give Abeles the opportunity to strike back, since he refused to stand still.

  Shaytan shifted his focus to me, his red eyes burning holes through my very soul.

  “Come on, Miss Hellswan. It’s time to surrender the witch,” he said.

  I briefly used my True Sight to check out the mountain base again. Our allies had breached the first level and were working their way to the top. The Maras didn’t stand much of a chance at this point. But the incoming hordes of daemons made my throat close up. All we had to do was get Lumi to take down the shield, then hold out against the thousands of horned fiends headed our way.

  I exhaled, then raised an eyebrow at Shaytan.

  “Now, why would I ever do that?” I asked.

  My sarcasm didn’t escape him. “Because I’ll kill you quickly if you do,” he replied. “Otherwise, I’ll take my sweet time with you.”

  Abeles was the first to drop, his throat ripped out. Shaytan frowned, watching his son give out his last breath, blood pouring out of him and glazing the cobblestones. Zane gave his father a sideways glance.

  “Don’t make me do this,” Zane said, his voice trembling. “Stop this nonsense.”

  “It’s too late to stop,” Shaytan replied, then walked toward us. I instinctively reached behind me and gripped Lumi’s wrist.

  Caspian stepped in front of us, drawing his sword and shaking his head.

  “You’re not taking her anywhere,” he said, gritting his teeth.

  Fiona was having a little trouble with the daemon warrior. He’d managed to pin her beneath him and was about to bring his sword down. Zane rammed into him and knocked him over, and Fiona panted and moved back, looking for her sword. They continued fighting, as the warrior wasn’t going to let Zane get anywhere near Shaytan.

  “What are you going to do?” Shaytan replied, smirking at Caspian. “Scowl at me? Poke me with that toothpick?”

  My heart jumped in my throat as Caspian rushed forward and brought his sword out in a diagonal slash. Shaytan raised his arm. The blade hit the daemon king’s wrist cuff with a loud clang. Sparks flew. In the next fraction of a second, Shaytan formed a fist with his other hand and drove it into Caspian’s jaw.

  The blow was incredibly powerful. I heard Caspian’s jaw break, then watched him fly backward and land on his side with a painful thud. He was unconscious. A gasp slipped out of my throat, and I looked at Shaytan with genuine shock. I hadn’t thought he’d be able to cause that much damage with a single punch.

  Shaytan took another step in my direction.

  I instinctively
moved back. I’d thought about fighting him before, but now I was beginning to question that endeavor.

  The daemon warrior came down with a thud, prompting Shaytan to look over his shoulder and curse under his breath. He’d lost another fighter.

  “You’re taking this a lot better than I’d thought,” Fiona muttered.

  Zane retrieved his rapier, which he’d lodged into the daemon warrior’s throat, and came toward Shaytan with a murderous look on his face. I knew the daemon prince hated hurting his own family, and the fact that Shaytan had forced him to do just that had clearly made something snap inside Zane.

  “Plenty more where they came from,” Shaytan replied dryly. “I just don’t like losing prime fighters in the middle of a war.”

  “Nice to know we’re of some value to you, Father,” Zane growled and charged at Shaytan.

  The daemon king raised his staff and whispered a spell. The bejeweled instrument trembled and morphed into a massive sword, with a mixture of meranium and gold swirls decorating the blade.

  Zane hit first, but Shaytan used his right arm cuff to block the attack, then brought his newly formed sword in a lateral swing and cut deep into Zane’s hip.

  “Zane!” Fiona croaked.

  Shaytan kicked him in the gut, forcing him back several feet. Zane fell backward. Blood poured out of the gaping gash in his side. Fiona ran to him, slid down on her knees and immediately applied some of her healing paste to his wound. She then bit into her wrist and pressed it against his lips, forcing him to drink.

  This wasn’t going in the direction I’d wanted. My heart started beating faster as Shaytan resumed his mission to take Lumi away from me.

  He sauntered toward us, a confident grin cutting across his face. I could hear the golden marbles braided into his beard jingle as he got closer.

  “Come on, little bloodsucker.” Shaytan sneered. “Hand the witch over.”

  “Screw you!” I shot back, then put my hand out and released the most powerful barrier I could muster. I felt my entire body instantly drain as the pulse went out. It was strong—remarkably so. It was probably the biggest one to come out of me yet.