Becoming (34 page)

She hoped.

When the male who had grabbed Olivia gave up,
throwing Olivia bodily toward Aurora, Amber relaxed a bit more. He
was an angry-looking, dark-haired male dressed identically to her
opponent in all black. Without a glance in Amber’s direction, he
took the unconscious Orculesti with him as he fled. She noticed he
was limping. She felt little more than relief, never considering
trying to stop him.

“Guess that leaves you and me, big guy,” she
said with a glance at the remaining Mercesti, her voice more
confident than she actually felt.

Amber!

The thought was a warning. She returned,
Well, hurry UP then!

For some reason, his utter exasperation made
her want to laugh. Maybe the pain and blood loss were affecting her
more than she thought. And when her head swam unsteadily, she knew
that was exactly what was happening.

The bald man shifted his gaze to Aurora as
the panther approached, fangs bared.

Her thoughts growing muddled, Amber foolishly
lowered her guard when his attention was diverted, and he slashed
out viciously in response, catching her along the left thigh. She
bit back a cry of pain and staggered back, barely stopping herself
from falling.

“A little something more to remember me by,
my love,” he said with a wicked grin. And he turned to fly out of
the chamber with a dark laugh trailing behind him.

Gabriel ran in as the Mercesti’s crude
farewell echoed through the chamber and he disappeared down the
escape tunnel with a flare of red wings. He saw Amber struggling to
keep her balance and realized what must have happened.

Stark rage coursed through him. Without a
thought, he unsheathed the dagger he was wearing in his right boot
even as he ran toward the tunnel. Then he threw the weapon
unerringly after the Mercesti. From the vicious curse that erupted,
he knew he had hit him. That sound was enough to release Gabriel
from the most violent part of the fury that threatened to overwhelm
him.

“A little something to remember
me
by,” he called into the tunnel. The name he tacked onto the end of
his rebuke was far less flattering than “my love.”

Amber swayed, but remained on her feet. “Go
after Skye. She went into the tunnel,” she said. “I’ll be okay for
a few more minutes.”

Caleb didn’t even slow, having determined
that Skye wasn’t in the chamber. He was already into the tunnel and
flying.

James knelt beside Olivia. Now that the
Mercesti had fled, the floating lights all spilled in, flooding the
room. It showed in rather gruesome detail just how injured both
sisters were.

“Who did this?” he demanded as he gently
lifted Olivia’s chin to assess the damage to her neck.

Blood flowed freely from her injuries and he
knew she wouldn’t—possibly couldn’t—speak. Her breath came in
shallow, bubbling gasps and she clutched desperately at his arm.
Aurora made a keening noise in the back of her throat. Glancing
behind him, he said, “Olivia is severely hurt. It appears an artery
has been severed. She will need healing quickly to repair the
damage done.”

Gabriel had just reached out to steady Amber,
whose eyes were shining a bit too brightly, her pupils huge. James
frowned when he realized that she was covered in even more blood
than Olivia. But Gabriel’s golden-eyed warrior pulled out of her
avowed’s hold to take a couple of steps closer to her sister. She
dropped her bloodied sword and fell quite ungracefully next to
James.

“Amber, you can’t,” Gabriel said, obviously
torn as he looked from one girl to the other. “You’re losing a lot
of blood yourself.”

Waving that aside, Amber said simply, “She’s
my sister.” She leaned over Olivia. “Just look at us,” she said as
she replaced James’ hands on Olivia’s neck. “Not even three full
days in these lovely new bodies and we’re both sliced and diced.
Isn’t that always the way?”

Olivia gave her a small smile and then closed
her eyes tightly when Amber’s gaze started glowing gold. James
couldn’t help but be awed by the wash of gold light that appeared
around Olivia’s throat where Amber touched. Even as he watched, the
blood stopped pulsing from Olivia’s knife wounds. Then the cuts
themselves began to heal. He was absolutely certain that there
wouldn’t be so much as a scar left once Amber was done. It was more
powerful than anything he had ever seen.

“Ah, what a bastard,” Amber murmured, her
eyes closed. Her hands moved deftly from Olivia’s neck to just
beneath her breasts. “I’m sorry, Liv. Two of your ribs are
broken.”

When they healed, it was with the grotesque
noise of bone rubbing against bone. Olivia sobbed and arched her
back, tears streaming down her face. James felt inexplicable pain
in his palms and glanced down with puzzlement. His hands were in
tight fists, his knuckles white. When he opened his fingers, he
realized with amazement that his nails had dug deep enough to draw
blood.

After another full minute, Amber pulled her
hands away. Olivia appeared to be sleeping, her breathing calm and
even. James leaned forward and confirmed he had been correct. Not
one scar.

“Amazing,” he breathed.

Beside him, Amber sat back heavily onto her
backside. “Gabriel?” she said, her voice barely audible.

“Yes?” he responded, worry in his tone as he
squatted beside her and reached out to touch her shoulder.

“Don’t say I told you so,” she ordered. Just
before she fainted.

Caleb soared swiftly and silently through the
tunnel, not far behind the red wings of the Mercesti who had been
fighting Amber. Gloresti energy surged through him, something he
had not experienced in all of his ninety-three years. It was
extremely powerful and instinctive, and led him right to where Skye
lay crumpled on the ground, her back to him.

Of course, she was rather hard to miss. The
shimmering outline of her spirit guardian stood over her. Caleb
realized the strange holy being had kept the Mercesti from taking
Skye along with them as they fled.

In keeping with his Gloresti instincts, he
ignored the fleeing Mercesti and drew to an immediate halt when he
saw Skye, running the remaining distance to her. As soon as he
knelt on the ground, the spirit beside her winked into
darkness.

Caleb realized he was holding his breath as
he leaned over her to determine if she was still alive. Would he
sense if she had been killed? He was still too much a novice to
really understand this connection he had with the aggravating,
temperamental, emotional…amazing girl. In any case, he couldn’t
deny his relief when he heard her breathing. The sound was harsh
and choppy, as if her ribs were constricted, but it meant she
lived.

When he did a closer inspection after
generating some light, he saw bruising already starting to form
along the side of her ribcage visible to him. Her left arm was bent
under her at an unnatural angle. She was bleeding from a large cut
along her hairline. The bump alongside the cut concerned him, as
did the blood on her lips. Had she bitten herself, or was she
bleeding internally?

The foreign sensations of worry and outrage
that rushed through him as he assessed her condition took him
completely by surprise. Why should he feel so intensely for this
obstinate half-human girl when he hadn’t done so for anyone else in
nearly a century? He decided it must be his Gloresti impulses.
Because he had trained for just this role for his entire existence,
he wasn’t quite sure what to think about the foreign emotions.

Unwilling to risk moving her, he sat beside
her to wait. He knew the others would come shortly. Before they
did, he allowed himself to touch her vibrant hair, something he had
wanted to do since she had assumed her Estilorian form. He would
die before ever admitting such a thing to anyone, of course.

And he vowed he would hunt down whoever had
done this to her if it was the last thing he did.

Grolkinei had not once doubted the capability
of his team of top commanders to complete their mission. So when
they returned to him, battered and defeated, he raged.

“What do you mean by coming back to me like
this—dragging your tails behind you like defeated lambs? You have
bested contingents of Waresti and Gloresti, for unholy sake! These
girls are half human!”

They were again gathered in the meeting room.
One of the beautiful windows overlooking the lake had already
suffered at Grolkinei’s hands. He had thrown a chair through it.
Wisely, none of the commanders sitting tensely at the long, wooden
table spoke. They knew their leader had to wind down before he
would hear them out.

Cesaro, the one Mercesti commander who had
not gone on the mission, sat back with a smug expression on his
face. Angius gave him a deadly glare, causing the smugness to
fade.

“You are an embarrassment to all Mercesti,”
Grolkinei railed. “I should execute every single one of you as an
example to everyone else!”

On and on he went, throwing objects, pounding
on the table and spewing a stream of curse words. After a while,
his eyes stopped glowing such an intense red. His breathing leveled
out. His pacing slowed. The commanders began to relax, seeing he
was finally regaining control of himself.

He threw himself into the chair that he had
abandoned when they had walked in as a group and caught him with
the unexpected news. His custom-made suit jacket sat in a heap on
the floor, covered in glass and his shoe prints. His tie hung
loosely around his neck, the top buttons of his tailored shirt
having been ripped off when he viciously yanked it. His ebony hair
stood on end where he had rent his fingers through it. Now, he
sipped calmly on a glass of water and nodded to Angius.

Taking the hint, Angius finally got to his
feet, as he had been itching to do. He stood with his legs braced
apart, his arms held behind his back in an at-ease stance, and
faced the room. Blood trailed down both of his arms where he had
been scored by his opponent’s sword. His black pants were wrapped
with bloody bandages around his left thigh where the dagger had
struck him.

“The half-human females had assumed their
powers by the time they were led to us. They are more powerful than
we anticipated. And they each appear to have different talents.

“The first one, the object of the Orculesti’s
anger and jealousy, entered the chamber armed and prepared to do
battle. I do not know how she knew we were there. Perhaps she
simply did not trust having been shoved into a dark room. But she
drew her weapon the moment she gained her footing. Seeing that she
knew her way with the weapon, and that the weapon was forged unlike
anything I had ever seen, I attempted to disarm her. Even in the
dark, she somehow sensed my actions and deflected me. She even got
in several hits during the course of us facing each other. I
suspect her blade is blessed, as my wounds will not stop bleeding,
though they are rather superficial. I was forced to use my sword
against her.”

Grolkinei frowned severely. “You used your
sword and drew blood?” When the commander gave him a confirming
nod, he pursed his lips. “That is unfortunate. In addition to being
a key we must need to cross to the human plane, she sounds like she
would have made a rather magnificent addition to our growing
army.”

Layla gasped at that, but held her
tongue.

Angius grunted, but whether he agreed with
his commander or not wasn’t evident. “Yes, well, it appears she was
bound to Gabriel.”

Surging up from his chair, Grolkinei placed
his hands flat on the table and leaned forward, his eyes flaring.
“
What?
We received no word that he had made the passage back
from the human plane.” Turning to Layla, who rapidly shook her
head, he cursed and began to pace. “What does this mean? Has he
resumed command of the Gloresti?” When no one responded, he turned
back to Angius. “Precisely what do you mean by saying Saraqael’s
daughter was ‘bound’ to him?”

“I cannot say for certain. But the Orculesti
we brought back with us, once she regains consciousness, should be
able to explain. I can tell you the golden-eyed half-human wore a
ring on her left ring finger, and whatever it signified is what
sent the Orculesti female to us. When the Orculesti tried to remove
the ring, there was a surge of powerful and searing holy light. She
could not remove it.”

Once again running his fingers through his
hair, Grolkinei muttered to himself. Then, obviously realizing he
wouldn’t be getting answers to this mystery, he waved a hand. “Tell
me about the other two daughters.”

“One of them—the blue-eyed one—was able to
command holy light. It hurt.”

For Angius to admit as much, it must have
been excruciating. Grolkinei looked again at Layla, whose head was
bowed. Lifting her face, he studied the angry red burns extending
from her left ear to the left side of her nose. Her left eye had,
mercifully, been spared. But her beauty would never be the same.
“Is this the one who so marked you, my lovely?”

“Yes,” she admitted in a hard voice, refusing
to weep. “With her blessed blue light.”

“Then you alone may kill her.”

She looked at him as though he had just
gifted her with the largest gem on the Estilorian plane. “Thank
you, my lord,” she said reverently, bringing his hand to her
lips.

“I have no need for anyone whose spirit is
pure enough to command holy light,” he said dismissively. Then he
looked pointedly at Angius to continue.

“The other was in Ryce’s control.”

Ryce rose, his mien as harsh and angry as
always. “The green-eyed one was
nothing
. I could have had
her gone from there in a thrice if not for the blasted holy light.
While I was waiting for a chance to get clear of the chamber, a
huge white panther entered. The half-human I had captured said she
could command the animal with her mind. When I told her she was
lying, that the cat would get her as soon as it would get me, she
lifted her feet from the ground and the cat swiped me in the leg at
the exact same time. It was obvious they were able to communicate
with each other. I had no choice but to abandon her.” He paused,
then realized he might as well get the next admission over with.
After clenching his jaw, he ground out, “I believe I may have
nicked an artery in her neck with my knife.”