Secrets [5] Echoes: Part One (73 page)

Read Secrets [5] Echoes: Part One Online

Authors: A.M. Hudson

Tags: #Teen Paranormal

“Oh my god.” I looked over at Ryder’s head, still wobbling into position. “You’re the traitor. You—”


He
was the traitor, Ara.”

Two more guys appeared in the cloud behind Quaid then, their arms folded, looking down at Ryder’s head. All I could hear in the silence that followed was that strange sound of battle and my own heavy breath, moving the thick fog aside each time I exhaled.

“Ara.” Quaid moved forward to help me stand straight. “I’m sorry. But he meant to hurt you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Actually, we do, your Majesty,” one of the other guards said. “We tortured a Warrior. Gave us all the details.”

“It’ll be in our report later.”

“Why would Drake send someone to hurt me?”

“He didn’t. He sent those men here to distract our knights—” Quaid pointed over the cliff edge. “Ryder’s beef must’ve been personal.”

“Why?”

“We didn’t get that much out of the prisoner,” one guy said.

“He had too much Created venom in his system,” said the other. “He’s in a coma. We’ll find out more when he wakes.”

We all looked up then to a loud crack, like thunder, echoing across the lands.

“What was that?” I said.

“Guns,” Quaid said.

“Why are they using guns?” I asked, straightening my dress where it fell off my shoulder.

Another shot fired.
Quaid clutched his sword, and the other guards disappeared. “Go back up to the manor, Ara,” he said. “I’ll—”

“No way. I’m coming with you.” I dug my sword out from a muddy heap. “David’s down there.”

He looked at me, looked in the direction of the manor, then the beach, and his shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Fine. But stay out of sight.”

“I will. I promise.” We started running. “Once I find David.”

 

***

 

The fog on the beach was thicker than it looked from the cliff, as if it’d resonated here and slinked up over the cliffside like creeping hands. I could just make out heads and shoulders through it, which made it hard, in the accompanying darkness, to discern who was who. The only identifier was the black uniforms against the red.

Quaid leaned in as we stood on a rock, a few steps above the battle, and said, “I could make a Trekky joke here. But I won’t.”

I frowned at him. “A what?”

“You know, red shirts—” He stopped when he noticed my utter confusion, then just smiled and looked away again. “Never mind.”

“So, how do we go about this?” I asked, my right hand crossing my body to clasp my sword.

“They’ll notice us any second now, then you won’t have to ask that.” He grunted then as he put his sword up, barely quick enough to block an attack.

A short, embarrassing scream shot out from my lips and I ducked into the shadows. The fog moved around me, a protective sheath, and I sat against the cold rock wall with my knees up, my hands dug into the sand. Real life battle is a lot scarier than training.

“Ara. Are you okay?” Quaid called out, his voice slightly muffled.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, hoping he heard me. There was no way I’d yell and advertise my position. But when he responded with only a deep, bellowing scream, my feet found the sand faster than my hands could grab my sword, and fear took a back seat to my protective instincts. I darted through the maze of shifting bodies and ducked under a few swings of heavy weapons, God knows what they were, coming up to
Quaid’s side as he hit the ground, hidden in the thicker clouds closer to the rocks. Sand puffed up with the force of his fall, covering his bloodied hands and stomach. He shook violently, his wide eyes drawing my face in.

“That really hurts,” he strained.

I laughed, applying pressure to his gut with both my hands. “If you were human, this’d be the end of you.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“So, what was … Quaid?” I stopped and drew my hands back. “Quaid?”

He let out one last breath and turned his head, his lips so relaxed in a state of death that they fell toward the ground, covered in sand.

“Quaid?” I shook his shoulders. “Quaid.”

“He’s gone—for now.”

I jumped to my feet as I spun around instantly and threw my arms around the thick, bandaged neck of my adoptive big brother. “Falcon. You’re all right!”

“Thanks to you leaving that vampire dripping over my mouth.” He hugged me back tightly. “Good job.”

“You’re welcome.” I drew away and hooked a finger over the very red bandage, peeling it down slightly. “It’s not completely healed, is it?”

He shook his head. “There’s a very deep, very nasty gash there still. But I’ll be fine, once I eat some of these bad guys.”

I laughed, not just at his comment, but at his cheeky face as he said that. “You see Ryder as you came down?”

“No. Why?”

“He’s dead,” I said, and bent to grab my sword from beside Quaid’s temporarily dead body.

“Dead? As in—”

“As in…” I sheathed my sword and moved around to the head of Quaid’s body to grab his wrists. “Quaid killed him. Chopped off his head.”

“Why?” Falcon sounded hurt and angry and somewhat scared.

“He’s a traitor,” I said simply, dragging Quaid. “Well,
was
a traitor.”

“Traitor?”

“Yep.” I dropped Quaid’s heavy body out of sight and made a swiping motion across my neck. “So Quaid took him out.”

Falcon’s eyes darkened sadly. “Shit.”

I shrugged. “Never mind him. This beach is crawling with the enemy. We need to help out.”

“No.
I
need to help out,” he said, grabbing his sword with one hand, aiming a finger at me with the other. “You need to go hide.”

I just laughed, drawing out my own sword.

Falcon groaned. He knew me too well.

“I’m down here now, Falcon,” I said, “I might as well kill a few pests while I’m at it.”

He looked terrible, standing there half folded over, blood seeping out under his bandage and down the white shirt under his uniform, but he still looked mighty and brave. His eyes squared with concern as he clearly considered his options, and finally, it sunk in. He looked at my party dress, his eyes sweeping the torn skirt and the blood stains, landing finally on my sword. “Is that Nhym?”

I held her up. “Yep.”

“Use your Cerulean Light. Okay?”

“Got it.” I nodded, and Falcon took one step backward, blending with the fog. When it shifted a second later, he was gone.

I looked back down at Quaid. “Don’t lose your head while I’m gone, okay?” I said, and darted off to my left to find myself a vampire for dessert.

The rock cliff became a friend at my back, giving me a rare chance to plot out my next move. Something I knew my knights didn’t need. But they didn't have an unborn baby to protect.

Following the wall, I headed toward a great mass of rocks I knew were just up ahead and got to higher ground, searching the foggy battlefield for any sign of David. There were about twenty heads as far out as the waterline, another group down the far end of the beach, and a smaller cluster a few meters off to my right, just under the lighthouse, where the cove ended—roughly the same place David would've found my washed up, mutilated body after I jumped.

I hopped down off the rocks with a very graceful leap and landed with bent knees in the hard sand, then took off at a run toward the rocky grave of my past. David had to be there.

A few steps out from the wall the sand was all soft and kicked up, covering the dead and making them hard to navigate around. I walked a little slower, holding my sword with two hands above my shoulder. Falcon would shake his head if he saw me now, but I felt safer with a baseball bat than a sword by my leg. Hit first, stab later. Some sword master I turned out to be.

As I weaved through the carpet of dead things, listening intently to my own steps, my own breath and the beating of my heart, another sound entered my immediate circle. I squatted quickly as a whip of wind went over my head and, without first checking who it was, swung my sword back with one hand and felt it connect with rock. A man screamed, clutching the gash in his shin, and I drew my sword over my head as I stood tall, bringing it back down into the socket of his eye. He didn’t scream this time. Didn’t make a sound. Just looked right into me, as time slowed down around us and he realised what was about to happen.

A small pocket of blood spat out over his cheek and wrapped the tip of my sword as the end connected with the metal-like skull beneath it. The impact took his last breath, and he frowned as he reached for the ground, kneeling slowly down before falling onto his side, his eyes wide and fixed on nothing.

I propped my foot on his cheekbone and pulled hard to dislodge my weapon from his skull. It scraped past the rock-hard bone with a chalky sound, entering the air again covered in … bits of that guy’s head. If my stomach churned, I didn’t notice.

“Gross,” I said, and wiped both sides on his jacket.

“Ara?”

The love and concern and familiarity of his voice filled me up with excitement and hope before I even saw his face. I threw my sword down and jumped into his arms, wrapping myself entirely around him, legs and all, not even checking if he was injured. “David! You’re alive.”

“Of course I’m alive.” He hugged me once then leaned back slightly. “Did you expect I wouldn’t be?”

“You’ve no immunity.”

He smiled, swiping something wet off my cheek, then flicked it away. “I don’t need it—never had it for any of the battles I’ve fought in my past.”

I hugged him again. “I was worried.”


You
were worried?” His eyes widened around a smile, hands tightening around my waist. “I heard Quaid call your name about ten minutes ago and I’ve been shattered with concern ever since.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “What are you doing down here?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well—” He put me down, making sure my feet were steady before letting go. “You’ve found me. Now—Shit!” We both leaned swiftly to the left as a sword slashed the absent air, and David’s dagger came out of its belt and lodged into the ribs of a vampire before I even spotted it.

Another one launched out of the fog then, waving his weapon around like a ninja.

David laughed, pushed me aside with one hand, and yanked his gun from his belt. He aimed with a straight, steady arm, and fired.

The shot cracked the air and I covered my head, turning away from the sound. My ears rung in three different tones, the momentary deafness taking half my ability to see as well.

“Ara.” David grabbed my face and checked every inch of it with desperate eyes before relaxing. “I’m sorry. I know that was awfully close to you.”

“I’m okay,” I breathed, nodding to convince myself. “That was just really loud.”

He smiled. “I know. But it was either your ears or your head.”

“I prefer the ears,” I said, cracking my jaw to pop my ears as the sound came back slightly.

“Good choice. Now, come on.” He grabbed my hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“Or you could stay and have it out, like old times.”

David stopped abruptly, his throat shifting as his eyes went sideways to find me, then he turned around, tucking me conspicuously behind him. “Zane.”

“Long time, my friend.” The extremely tall, unnaturally sizeable figure stepped out of the fog, and I balked at the sight of him—his neck as thick as my waist, his eyes dark as the Devil’s soul, his body scarred in life beyond what vampirism could repair.

“I’m no friend of yours,” David said coolly, readjusting the grip on his sword.
Ara. Run. Now,
he thought.

Why?

Just do it.

My foot shifted backward, turning slightly, but before I could run for my sword on the ground just a foot away, an arm circled my neck. I screamed as it yanked me away from David, his hand slipping from mine as the fog swallowed him whole. All I saw as I hit the sand was a broadsword sword high in the air, blinking against the flash from the lighthouse.

“David!” I yelled, as though my words could do something,
anything
to help him.

But he didn’t answer. Didn’t make any sound other than the shuffle of feet through sand and the violent ting of metal blocking metal. I tried to get up but a heavy boot pinned my shoulder to the soft sand, making my elbow sink.

“Let me go.” I wriggled like a hooked fish. “You’re going to be so sorry when I get my hands on you. Literally!” I slipped them down by my sides, trying to reach his other foot, but it put too much pressure on my belly, squishing the baby, so I brought them back up to my ribs again. If I could just touch him, he’d be fried chicken!

“Hold still, bitch! Or I’ll kick that child into the next world.”

I stopped struggling and laid perfect still for a second. Technically, I was
already
touching him. But I’d never used my Cerulean Light through my shoulder before. Except, I realised with a rush of excitement, at the lake that day—when David touched my shoulder to see if I was okay. The first time I ever used it.

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