Read Destiny's Child (Kitsune series Book 3) Online
Authors: Morgan Blayde
“Not on my watch,” Faith said. “Lead on, and hurry.”
I left the kitchen for the main hall, scanning for an inside door that would get
us to the church. I spied a door in the right direction and headed that way. Faith stayed close behind me, stopping when I did to try the knob. It was open as I’d expected since the thrall had been working in here. I eased the door open and found a lighted hallway. I padded forward and found myself outside a series of offices. There was a door I figured for a janitor’s closet, a water fountain, and restrooms. In the middle of the hall was a door with a window in it, the door to the parking lot. Immediately to my left was a door into the sanctuary. I led Faith there, offering up a quick prayer for forgiveness for the violence I was bringing, and the likely bloodshed.
Paused there, I heard screams and curses through the door, along with the sound of gunfire. “Van Helsing and Maddy have started the party without us,” I said.
“She likes to hog all the fun,” Faith muttered, shoving me through the door. “What are we waiting for?”
Inside the sanctuary, I took a couple seconds to get the lay of the land and see where my efforts were most needed amidst the frantic fighters. I saw several thralls sprawled near a front door, their guns fallen beside them. Van Helsing and his boys were brawling with more thralls. And I saw Fran climbing back in through a broken stained-glass window she’d probably been tossed through.
Maddy was collapsed next to the front pew, groggy, trying to climb back to her feet. The side of her face was red and would probably bruise up by morning.
Singing
Jesus Loves Me
, Faith launched past me. Her sword rasped free of its sheath. She scurried into a knot of thralls—more than I’d expected—and didn’t drop her sheath. Clubbing with it left-handedly, she used her right to guide her sword through a series of one-handed stabs and slashes.
My attention shifted to the front of the church where a coffin sat on the altar, surrounded by white, burning candles on tall stands. Oblivious to the raging battle, Elektra was in the open coffin, a dreamy look of bemusement on her face.
Hypnotized,
I thought.
Standing next to the coffin was a man in a dark suit with short, slicked-back, bronze hair and sharply chiseled features. His lips were full and sensuous, his gaze fixed on Elektra’s face. Silver gleamed from the knife he held at his side.
I ran toward him, feeling time bleeding out. I had to stop what I knew was coming.
Fast as he was, his hand didn’t seem to move—the knife just appeared, raised over his head, poised to strike as he savored the moment.
I’m not going to make it in time
.
Give me control!
Taliesina urged.
I relaxed and felt her will driving our body forward. My sword swung up in front of me, pointed at his heart. A savage battle scream echoed inside my head, Taliesina venting, and my shadow-fire sword lengthened, closing the distance in a heartbeat. The aura-wrapped shadow of my blade bit into his chest, sliding deep, punching out his back.
He screamed. The silver knife fell from his hand. He sank to his knees.
I still had five feet to go to reach the coffin. My sword returned to its usual length.
Again, I didn’t see Conrad move. One second, he was on his knees by the altar. A split-second later, he was in my face, baring fangs, his eyes burning into mine, damping my thoughts. But he couldn’t take control of me—I’d already handed myself off to Taliesina; she was in control.
Conrad’s right hand closed around my throat, clamping off my breath. He lifted me off my feet and froze in place, an undead statue. I felt rigidness in the weave of space as a deep tingle washed through me, not merely dancing over my skin as when I
crossed over
. I didn’t shift to the ghost realm. This was something I’d only felt once before, the time in the temple I’d battled one of the miko’s ninjas, using my kitsune power to temporarily stop time. I guess Taliesina had been paying attention because she’d nailed the technique—which was soon going to be paid for with crushing fatigue.
Time was going to snap back into motion very soon since I wasn’t as powerful as Cassie. I hurried to take advantage of the freeze, prying my throat out of Conrad’s clutching hand, dropping at his feet. My sword still blazed in my hand, the shadow core flat, matte black, the surrounding orange haze no longer rippling like fire, but stiff as stained glass. The blade had hurt Conrad, but not really put him down. I didn’t want to repeat a tactic that had proven insufficient. I needed a new weapon.
And there was Fran, suspended mid air, a wooden stake in each hand. Only a couple of jumps from the front pew, she waited midair for time to kick in again. Her approach over the pews was straight for Conrad. She displayed awesome balance by hopping from the back of one pew to another, taking an unconventional shortcut since the aisles were clogged with slayers and thralls going at it. I was ready to take back everything I’d ever said about her not being the best slayer around.
I let my sword fade out, directing my thoughts to Fran, wondering if I could pull her into this silent, timeless moment where I was active. It couldn’t be much different from when I’d carried someone else across the veil into the ghost realm—simply a matter of applied power. I didn’t move over to touch her, but fixed her image in my thoughts, using visualization to see her moving in my mind. This focused my desire, directing my kitsune energy.
I felt a kind of shockwave rolling off me.
Falling between seconds, Fran landed from her jump, and launched into the last one she needed. Her foot hit the front pew wrong. She crashed down into the seat, one leg bent under her, the other fully extended. Her elbow hit the padded seat. Her head caught the armrest. Stunned, she flopped onto the red-carpeted floor.
And another one bites the dust
.
Time snapped back into motion. A flush of weakness made my muscles tremble. My breath labored, I became aware of pain in my throat from where Conrad had gripped me. Kneeling, I stared up at him.
He stared at his empty hand, no doubt wondering where I’d vanished to. His red-coal gaze dropped to where I crouched.
I didn’t see the kick.
Damn vampire speed
. It gave him a vicious edge.
Next thing I knew, I was flying back the way I’d come, my face shoved to the side. I heard my neck break—a very ugly sound. I hit the carpet and rolled. When I stopped, I looked back at Conrad. He stood where I’d left him. A look of utter surprise was etched into his face.
Because somehow I’m still alive?
No. The point of a very sharp stake protruded from his chest. He couldn’t seem to move as—close behind him—Maddy drove in a second stake.
Tearing himself free of shock, Conrad stagger in a turn to stare at her. Leg fully extended, Maddy gave him a crescent kick across the face. He fell to the carpet and slumped, flesh darkening. His skin and muscle decayed. His chest slumped. He left a powdery skeleton that protruded from his flattened clothes. The bones also sagged and crumbled. It was as if the vampire had lived centuries, avoiding time’s corruption, only to have it catch up to him at last.
Maddy stared down at the remains. “Enjoy Hell, you son of a bitch.”
Hell, yeah!
And then Elektra was there, tackling Maddy from behind. Her mom had her in a death grip, hugging her from behind. “Maddy, oh, Maddy! I was so afraid for you. I saw him batter you down, but I couldn’t move, I couldn’t feel. My heart was frozen in ice—until he died.”
Maddy shook her self free, turning to face her mom. “Don’t talk to me. I don’t know you.” She went over to the front pew, gathered Fran up in a fireman’s carry, and headed for the door at the back hallway.
The fighting was over. The thralls stood still, as though time was still out of joint. Their faces showed emptiness with hollow eyes and slack features. They were marionettes with burned strings, no hand to guide them, no will to drive them. Like vacant houses, there was no life to them anymore though they still breathed.
Faith was at my side. “What happened?” she asked.
I felt the bones in my neck fuse back into place, the fractures healing themselves. The pain from my face was gone as well. Apparently there’s at least one benefit to being infused with mothman DNA.
I gave Faith a summary. “Vamp’s dead. Elektra’s alive. We won.” I looked her over for injuries. Her clothes were a bit disheveled. There was blood on her and her sword, but she didn’t seem hurt. “How many did you get?”
“Six dead, two who want to be, and one of them is now missing a pair of balls—typical score.”
I nodded. “Let’s get out of here. I want to see how Maddy is holding up.”
We walked past Elektra. She stood there, staring down at what was left of her one-time lover. Her face wasn’t as empty as the other thralls. I read hurt from her betrayal, acting as a kind of insulation to her loss. Knowing her own bad choices had brought her here, I couldn’t work up much sympathy for her.
I got half a dozen steps and then sagged to my knees, my vision graying out around the edges. I caught the floor with my hands so I didn’t sprawl flat.
“Grace!” Faith stooped beside me, her hands on my shoulders. “Are you hurt? I don’t smell any blood on you.”
“Just tired. Stopping the world in its tracks … takes a lot out of you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Duhn’t worry ‘bout it.”
Van Helsing appeared. He knelt in front of me and carefully raised my chin. He studied my face in the candlelight. “A bit of lingering concussion. Maybe we better get you to a hospital.”
“Anyone tries to put me in an MRI and they’re dead meat, toast, terminated with prejudice, and prematurely recycled. You feeling me?”
“Yeah, dawg,” Faith said. “We feelin’ you just fine.”
In the distance, I heard the scream of police vehicles drawing near.
“Time to fade, people,” Van Helsing called out. “Move it!”
THIRTY
“Embrace emptiness. It’s time to forget.
Allow your embers to consume my regret.”
—Embers
Elektra Blue
He appeared in the front door of the church, smelling of dry winds, the wildness of the hunt, and all things male. He pushed through the slayers, kicked a thrall out of his path with a boot to the face, and loomed over me where I kneeled. Fenn’s eyes glowed, golden fire in place of the usual amber. He reached past Von Helsing, offering me his arm, his strength, his heart. Promises that I couldn’t name flickered in his gaze.
“C’mon, Grace, we need to get out of here.”
“Yeah.” I latched onto his forearm. It was all I could do. My legs had lost the strength to shove me higher. He pulled me to my feet and into his arms as I sagged, threatening to fall. “Don’t know what’s … wrong with me.”
“I do.” He scooped me up, watching my feathery antennae bounce as he cradled me in his arms. “To use highfalutin medical jargon, your ‘system’s out of whack.’” He turned and carried me down the aisle toward the door, my weight negligible against his shape-shifter’s strength. The sizzle of his aura washed over me, as the menace in his face cleared everyone out of our path. I closed my eyes and rested my head against his shoulder as he droned on, “Your body is trying to integrate cross-species elements to be several things at once. Most shifters just have to go from one form to another and back again. I don’t think the moth part of you will dominate, but it definitely wants to be heard.”
The police sirens were louder.
He stopped.
I opened my eyes and saw that we were next to a topless Jeep. The body was boxy, a mid-shade between blue and green. The interior was beige, with a padded cage over it that looked sort of spidery. Fenn slid me in over the door and settled me into the front passenger’s seat. Without thinking about it, I buckled in.
He clambered up the vehicle, passed over me, and dropped down through the roll bars, into the driver’s seat. The Jeep roared to life, and he sent it plunging toward the street. We left the church and cruised away from the sound of sirens. Fenn took the first right turn to keep us out of view of the arriving cops. I had no doubt that the slayers would get away, even if they had to toss around a few smoke bombs or some flash-bangs.
We plunged through patches of darkness, passing from one streetlight to another. Houses gave way to businesses, most of them closed. I felt the cold of the wind stream. That was unusual. After years of walking the ghost realm, I’d become impervious to such discomfort. I often didn’t really need a coat while others were shivering in theirs. I put a hand to my forehead and felt warmth.
Fever, not good.
We pulled up to a 24-Seven convenience store, parking near the door. “Sit tight,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Sure.
I closed my eyes. My thoughts spiraled into darkness. It seemed only a moment, but Fenn was back in the Jeep, arms loaded with assorted snackage. He shoved a fountain drink into my hands. I set it between my legs so I could take the chocolate bar he gave me next.
“Eat that,” he said. “It will head off the post-combat adrenaline crash.”
I ripped off the wrapper and crammed a chunk of sweet milk chocolate into my mouth. I chewed, not giving it time to melt. “Thanks.”
He slurped on a straw, gulping down what smelled like Dr. Pepper, and shrugged. “I could yell at you for starting the fight without me, but you did what you felt you had to. At least you kept your promise and called me.”
“Elektra didn’t have a lot of time. As it was, we barely saved her life.” I broke off another piece of chocolate. “Good thing Tukka’s not here. It would break his heart—and self-control—to see me eating this stuff.”
“Dessert first,” Fenn said, “because life is short. After that, you can help me with these nachos.”
Hmmmm. Is it feed a cold or a fever? What the hell, nachos are a great idea. Once I leave to take Tukka and the boys home, it might be a long while before I have this kind of stuff again.
Fenn put his drink in a cup holder and started up the Jeep.
“Where are we going?”
“Just down the street. There’s a place we can hang for a while. I want to talk to you.”
“We
are
talking.”
He fell silent, guiding the vehicle past the pumps, out into the street. It wasn’t long before he stopped at a twenty-four hour
laundromat. We went in carrying our food and drinks. No attendants were on duty, or needed. Change machines gave you quarters for the washers, dryers, and assorted vending machines. The white washers and dryers formed silent ranks, ever ready to be of service. The place smelled of detergent, bleach, and lint. No customers were here, but the TV mounted to the upper wall assailed us with the laugh track of a comedy show I didn’t recognize. We sat by a counter where clothes could be folded, setting down our snackage, and pulling over two of the flimsy, tacky plastic chairs that wiggled as you sat.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“A little.”
I felt my face warm under the impact of his constant regard. I remembered back when we were fighting the miko, and I’d had to rescue Shaun from her evil clutches. I’d been just as drained. Fenn had let me drain his lifeforce with a kiss, recharging myself. It had made a difference. I’d saved Shaun. But that kiss and embrace still haunted me. It had been a betrayal of my lust for Shaun even if it had been necessary. This awkwardness was the price I was still paying.
“Relax,” he said. “I’m not going to hit on you. I’m being your friend right now. Trust me, I know how to wear a lot of hats.”
I nodded. “You know, I didn’t ask for the moth man DNA and these freaky changes. First time I grew wings, I made you tear them off.”
“I remember.”
“Not a lot of people would maim me because I asked it of them.”
He shrugged, looking down at the black and white checkerboard tiles underfoot. “I know what it’s like to be more, and sometimes less, than human. I’ve been coming to terms with that my whole life, so I know what you’re going through. For all his sympathy, Shaun’s human. He will always stand a little apart from our kind.”
“That’s not something I want to hear.”
“I know.”
“But you might be right.”
I looked away from him, my eyes on the far wall, but used my peripheral vision to study him. He went as still as one of the washers. I heard him draw in a breath, hold it, and slowly let it go. It felt like we were crossing a line here. Like maybe I was finally growing up. I’d been trying to control every aspect of my life—but my heart—with little success. It occurred to me that if I turned that around, and simply controlled my heart, that everything might just fall into place.
That thought scared me.
I think Fenn smelled my fear because he reached out and covered my hand with one of his. “Instead of fighting your destiny, you might do better to embrace it.”
“There’s a problem with that. There are several destinies to choose from.” I held my right palm up as if weighing something unseen. “Wocky wants me to give in to darkness, becoming some kind of demon fox. Cassie says our own people are so afraid of that happening, they tried to kill me as a baby. It’s why she hid me among humans, giving me up to convince the other kitsune I was dead.” I raised my left palm like a second cup of a scale. “Inari wants to take me over, making me a celestial fox. She offers security, but no freedom. That’s the coward’s way out.” I needed a third hand I could raise for my third point.
Oh, Well
. “Dhonar and his wild foxes are on a path between those extremes.”
Like my father’s shadow world
.
Those paths require voluntary exile. Sucks to be me.
Fenn took a drink from his Dr. Pepper and shook his head. “No, the decision sucks. You’re just fine. Maybe you should choose none-of-the-above, stay in your life, and let your friends stand beside you the way you stood by
Madison tonight.”
I smiled at him. “Hell of an idea. But then all my enemies will become everyone’s problem—
ISIS, the Hysane, the moth-ers, the media, and any of my own people that come hunting. For all I know, when word gets out about the dead vamp, some of his undead buddies might take an interest in Maddy and me.”
“You’ll be there for each other,” he squeezed my hand, “the way I’m here for you.”
This was getting a little intense. I stood, letting the motion pull my hand out from under his so I could walk away. He let me go, making no effort to stalk after escaping prey. I liked him for that. I drifted over to the front window of the laundromat and looked out, wanting to lighten the moment with a little humor. “So, you bring a lot of girls here?”
He gave me a bark of a laugh, more a sharp
hah
than anything else. “No, not usually. You want to get out of here?”
That’s the question, isn’t it? I thought so before but…
There you are!
The thought bludgeoned into my brain. I’d been looking at my own image on the glass, not through it. I did so now, recognizing the teal blue bulk that was Tukka. He was staring in at me. He looked better, stronger. A new clarity burned in his lavender pearl eyes as if he’d pushed well past some inner barrier, the way I was trying to. He’d even found time to have his thick mane set in cute little ringlets. I wondered who did his hair.
What are you doing in there?
he asked.
Fenn came up beside me and stared out at Tukka. They both seemed to bristle a little. I smiled.
Guys!
“We’re on a hot date,” I said. “Can’t you tell?”
Fenn draped an arm over my shoulder, playing to our audience of one. “We’re going to the city dump next, and then maybe this little water tower I know of. Got a problem with that?”
Tukka stared at me, his eyes wide.
You’re going to the dump and you didn’t invite me?
I shrugged. “I don’t really need a chaperone, but if you want to come…”
“No room in the Jeep,” Fenn said. “Maybe next time.”
Tukka growled. The window shuddered.
“You break that,” I said, “and I’m not paying for it.”
His growl subsided. His stare acquired a laser focus. He was watching my lips.
Self-conscious, I reached up and felt a smear of chocolate. I licked it away. “It’s not what you think.”
You’ve been eating chocolate.
“Okay, so it is what you think, but it was medicinal chocolate.”
Tukka continued to stare at me, his face twisting into a look of betrayal.
I pointed at Fenn. “He made me eat it.”
Fenn sighed. “Yeah, always the guy’s fault.”
Tukka’s stare went past me, and a hopeful expression took over his face.
You have nachos!
“Uh, yeah, but not a lot; besides, you have bigger problems.”
I stared past Tukka, out into the street. A turning police cruiser skidded to a stop. The front of the vehicle pointed right at us. The headlights backlit Tukka. The driver’s door shoved open. A policeman slid out behind the door, a gun in his hand.
“You there, don’t move! Put your hands over your head.”
Fenn murmured in my ear. “Tukka’s not really built to do that. Let’s bail out the back door.” He stepped back, drawing me along by the shoulders.
“But what about Tukka?”
“When he gets over his shock, that cop will probably wind up calling animal control, or maybe the National Guard. Either way, Tukka will have an easier time dealing with this if he doesn’t have to worry about us too.”
“I guess so.” In a pinch, Tukka could always step into the ghost realm, or somebody’s dream. As a two-ton fu dog, he didn’t really need my help.
Yeah, Grace scram. Tukka got this
.
And so it was, I abandoned my best friend and my nachos, and for what? The dump?
Fenn grinned as we hurried toward the back door. “It’s incredible what people throw away.”
THIRTY-ONE
“Losing fluff, tearing at the seams...
My feet bleed crimson on the edges of a shattered dream.
Deep, where no one hears, the silence screams.”
—Silence Screams
Elektra Blue
The night passed and I got no sleep. A kind of second wind did kicked in, but I didn’t know if I could trust it. I felt too tired to sleep, but knew I could still crash and burn. Tukka had caught up to Fenn and me. We were on the running trail behind the Human Potential Institute that had been my temporary home—‘till now. I’d used the trail regularly, and had thought to get one more run in—for old time’s sake—then drop in on my roommates. I needed to say goodbye, to explain that I’d be gone, maybe a long while.