Darkness & Discovery (The Bespelled Trilogy #2) (24 page)

He
kissed the top of my head and said, “Whatever works.”

After
a couple minutes he told me, “The Order is closing fast. All four of them got
away from the mob back on the Strip. We’re going to have to land and get ready
to face them.”

I
glanced around and saw we were over empty desert now, the lights of Las Vegas
behind us in the distance, a highway miles to our left. We began to descend,
coasting smoothly, the only sound the rush of air past my ears. In just a
couple minutes Alastair and I were on the ground. He set me down gingerly, and
then took a couple steps back from me.

“I’m
going to try to revert back,” he said. “So if you want to see me in this form, it
might be your last chance for a while.”

I
turned toward him and my breath caught. He was crouched down, one knee and one
hand on the ground, looking up at me. And he was framed by two huge, perfect, downy
wings, each at least seven feet long, the purest pristine white and illuminated
like the rest of him. “Wow,” I murmured.

He
grinned at that, and then he closed his eyes and concentrated. Athos and Joey
landed a few feet away, but I didn’t take my eyes off Alastair. And suddenly,
it was as if he gathered all the light back into himself, extinguishing the
radiance in an instant, the wings vanishing. He stood and said, “Hey, I did
it.” He still glowed very subtly, so he was clearly visible in the predawn
darkness.

“That
was absolutely extraordinary,” I told him, and crossed the desert to him and
gave him a hug. I touched bare skin on his back, through the gashes in his
t-shirt where his wings had torn right through the thin cotton fabric.

“Hate
to interrupt,” Athos said, “but we have incoming Order in about sixty seconds.”

We
all lined up shoulder to shoulder, and I reached down into my boot and pulled
out the little snake knife. I had dropped it when Alastair grabbed me and
jumped out the window, and it had instantly reappeared in its usual place.

“Remember
what I told you, Allie,” Athos said, crouching slightly and clutching the blade
Joey had given him earlier. “The red haired one is overconfident, often leaves
his midsection exposed. The north African has poor peripheral vision. The
blonde always fakes left but always dodges right. And the tall one with black
hair, Zane…well, he doesn’t actually have any weaknesses.”

The
four nephilim were almost upon us, their wings stirring the night as they lit
up the surrounding area. They were absolutely huge, bigger even than Athos and
Alastair. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, and wiped my sweaty
palms on my jeans. “Get behind me, Lu,” Joey whispered.

“No.”

“This
is no time for heroics. Get behind me!” Joey hissed.

“I
have Knifey, and I intend to use him,” I told him.

“The
very fact that you assigned your weapon a nickname and a gender tells me you’re
not qualified for this fight,” Joey said.

“Bite
me, Joey.”

“If
only.”

The
Order surrounded us, each as precisely positioned as the hands of a compass
rose when they touched down. We closed up our formation, pressing back to back
to back, and Alastair took my free hand in his.

“Athos,”
the biggest one, presumably Zane, said, his voice deep and full of authority.
“So this is how your life ends, slain in the desert beside a pair of murderous vampires.
What a terrible waste of a noble nephilim heritage. And who’s that you’ve
gotten to help you? A little human girl? How deliciously pathetic.”

“Yeah,
you’re gonna pay for that comment, jerk,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

 They
circled us slowly, perfectly in step with one another, each holding two long
knives. They were still in angel form, bare-chested, their enormous wings unfurled
behind them, making them look even bigger than they already did – and not one
of them was shorter than six-six.  

They
were taking their time. Waiting for something. I couldn’t imagine what.

And
then, suddenly, I realized what their game was. The sky in the direction I was
facing was just beginning to lighten slightly, the faintest traces of pink
visible over the mountains in the distance. And we were in the middle of open
desert, no shelter anywhere.

“They’re
stalling,” I exclaimed. “They’re waiting for the sunrise, which will take out
Joey and Allie. By the looks of it, sunrise is only a few minutes off.”

“You’re
right,” Joey muttered. “So we’d better kill them quickly.” And in the next
instant he was skirmishing with the blonde haired nephilim.

Athos
ran at Zane, and immediately the other two nephilim descended on him with wild,
inhuman cries, weapons slashing. Apparently taking out Athos, the traitor, was
their top priority.

In
the next moment Alastair was in the battle as well, pulling the red-haired
warrior off his half-brother. The two began to fight viciously. It didn’t seem
to matter that Alastair didn’t actually have a weapon as he landed blow after
blow with his fists and with well-placed kicks, all while expertly dodging the
two long blades.

My
breath was coming fast as I pivoted repeatedly, watching all three fights at
once. Each was happening about twenty yards from me, all the supernaturals
moving at such astonishing speed that it was hard to follow the action. I
wanted to step in, but at the rate they were all moving, I couldn’t be sure
that I wouldn’t accidentally catch Alastair or Joey or Athos with my blade,
instead of one of the Order.

The
scene was perfectly illuminated by the glowing nephilim, but gradually, it was
becoming illuminated by the rising sun as well. I turned toward the mountains
in a panic. The sky was warming. It was just a matter of minutes before the sun
would appear over the ridge.

Joey
was most at risk from the rising sun, he’d ignite instantly. Alastair was more
resilient, he could last a few minutes in direct sunlight. I made a decision
and ran toward Joey, who was wrestling with the blonde nephilim, growling as he
dodged a swinging blade, then flipping the nephilim to the ground before the warrior
drove a boot into Joey’s midsection and sent him flying backwards.

I
screamed his name, and when Joey turned his head to look at me, I tossed him my
knife. His hand closed around it just as the blonde half-angel fell on him,
blades drawn back, prepared to strike.

Like
flipping a switch, the nephilim went totally limp on top of Joey, and was
thrown off onto the dusty ground a moment later. His eyelids fluttered for only
a moment before he died.

Joey
jumped to his feet and smiled at me. This was slightly unnerving, because he
was spattered with blood and his fangs were fully extended. My knife was
totally covered in the nephilim’s blood, as was Joey’s hand up to his wrist,
obviously having been plunged into the now-dead warrior along with the knife.
“Thanks for loaning me Knifey,” he said cheerfully, his green eyes sparkling.
He was absolutely, without a doubt, in his element.

He
was made for this.

Joey
turned toward the other fights then, and rapidly assessed the situation. And
then he drew his hand back and hurled my knife across fifty yards of desert,
where it embedded deeply between the wings of the red-haired warrior that
Alastair had been fighting.

Allie
stepped back in surprise as the nephilim collapsed before him. His eyes were
alight with blue fire as he turned to look at us. Joey gave him a little
salute, and then I grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him toward me.

“Joey,
the sun’s almost up. You need to seek shelter. Now.”

He
turned toward the sunrise and swore under his breath, then looked at me and
said, “You’re right. You’re going to need to get Alastair to cover, too – he can
only last about six or seven minutes in sunlight before he ignites. Be careful,
Cupcake.” He kissed my cheek, and in the next instant he was gone, a swirling
trail of dust the only indication of which direction he’d headed.

Alastair
and Athos were now locked in battle with the two remaining nephilim, who were
clearly fighting as a team. Zane and the other warrior were back to back in a
defensive position, countering Athos and Alastair’s every attack expertly. Although
the north African warrior was severely injured, it looked like the Order could
hold the brothers off for hours in that position – and we most definitely
didn’t have hours.

I
ran to the fallen red-haired nephilim to retrieve my knife, and found it sticking
out of a bloody, shriveled, almost mummified corpse. The body’s wings had
vanished, its form simply human. I shuddered and plucked  my knife out gingerly.
It was still completely coated in blood. The two intertwined metal snakes that
comprised the knife’s handle uncoiled slightly, undulating in my hand before
wrapping themselves securely around the dark blue gem at the weapon’s base. The
stone was glowing steadily. All of that was more than a little eerie, and I
murmured, “I’m glad you’re on my side, Knifey, because that’s some disturbing
stuff.”

Alastair
and Athos were side by side, about to make another run at all that remained of
the Order, when I joined them and held up the knife by its blade, where Zane
could clearly see it. “This has already taken out two of your cohorts,” I said
loudly. “And if you insist on sticking around, I’ll make sure it finishes the
job.”

Zane
stared at the blade in disbelief before meeting my gaze and asking, “What are
you?”

“A
little human girl. With the power to kill you,” I replied, calling on all the
bravado I could muster.

He
hesitated a long moment, looking at the blade, then at Athos and Alastair. “This
isn’t over,” Zane said. And then he launched into the air with a powerful push
of his wings, and took off back toward the city.

The
remaining injured warrior wavered for a moment when his comrade took off, then
lunged at Athos with a menacing growl. He didn’t stand a chance. In the next instant
he was falling at Athos’ feet, his body already shrinking, aging a hundred
years, two hundred, as he hit the ground.

I
spun on Alastair as the sky went fully rose and gold and pink, and exclaimed,
“Allie, the sun’s going to appear over those mountains in about a minute. You
need to seek shelter right now. Athos and I will catch up.”

Alastair
kissed me quickly and said, “I love you, Lu. Please be careful.” He glanced at
Athos. “You be careful too, brother.” And then he was gone, headed in the same
direction as Joey.

Athos
looked much the worse for wear. His long hair hung loose around his shoulders,
and his bare torso was covered in blood and dirt. He sunk to his knees and
caught his breath, but for only a few seconds. Then he pushed himself to his
feet again and said, “We don’t have much time. We need to get to the hospital
to help Bryn, after figuring out a way to round up Alastair and Joey. But
first, I need to bury these men. Help me find something to dig with.”

That
surprised me, but I did as he asked. I searched around, and lucked into an old,
rusted automobile bumper, which I brought to him.

Once
again showing superhuman strength, Athos used a curved end of the bumper like a
shovel, and in only a few minutes managed to dig three shallow graves in the
hard-packed desert earth. He carefully placed each of the bodies in the graves
and covered them over, then said what sounded like a prayer in Latin, his head
bowed.

He
came over to me then and picked up my hand wordlessly, and we began walking in
the direction Alastair and Joey had gone.

Chapter Sixteen

Athos was quiet for a
while before saying, “I know we need to hurry, and I’ll revert to angel form
and carry you in just a bit. I just need to give my body another minute or two
to heal.”

“Are
you hurt?”

He
nodded and pulled his hair aside to reveal a deep stab wound in his back. He
let his hair fall again as he said, “It came out here.” He lightly touched a small
wound above his navel.

“Oh
my God, we have to get you to a hospital!”

But
he was shaking his head. “I’m only half-human, remember? A human doctor
wouldn’t know what to make of me. And besides, it’s healing fine on its own.”

“Does
it hurt?”

He
raised an eyebrow at me and grinned just a little. “A sword passed all the way
through me. What do you think?”

“Well,
it didn’t stop you from fighting. Or digging three graves. So who knows?” I
countered.

“That
had to be done. The pain was irrelevant.”

“Do
you always bury the bodies of your enemies?”

“Those
men weren’t my enemies. Not really. We fought side by side for a time. We were
comrades. Granted, they turned on me when I left, as I knew they would, and I
had to fight them to keep myself and you and Alastair alive. But that didn’t
make them my enemies.”

I
thought about that for a while. Eventually I asked, “Why did they look like
that when they died?”

“The
moment they died, the magic that was held in them was released. The angel part
of them left their human shells. So their bodies caught up with their true age.”