Kindred of the Fallen (35 page)

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Authors: Isis Rushdan

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Kindred of the Fallen
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Artemis bolted from the darkness, her blonde bun unraveling in curls down her back. By the time Evan jumped to the ground, Artemis had made it over. Did she even use the rope?

They climbed into the truck. Jagger was behind the wheel and Krieg sat up front.

As they raced down the road, Evan turned to her. “What happened back there? You said in and out! It’d be easy. Then those kids showed up and you lopped off that boy’s head.”

Artemis smoothed back her hair.

Evan glanced around the empty truck. “They’re all dead. You just let Cyrus kill twelve men when you could have stopped him with that gun.”

Artemis slid forward in her seat and eyed him. “Lego blocks. I can get more.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. You’re special like Stone and Jagger and Krieg. Irreplaceable.”

“You’re fucking insane!”

Her head rolled back in a bright smile as she laughed.

 

 

Abbadon rushed into the great room. His wings retracted and his color shifted to normal.

Serenity bounded over to him. “Is Cyrus okay?”

“He’s fine. I saw him out on the lawn. He’s cleaning up.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, she inhaled deeply with relief.

He looked at Talus, who was curled in a ball. “I should’ve come back with you.”

“Abbadon, Talus is hurt. There’s blood all over her leg.”

He left the room and quickly returned with gauze, water and forceps. He tore open Talus’s pant leg and wiped the area clean. Blood oozed from four nickel-sized wounds in her right leg. The bullets were embedded close to the surface.

“Hold her. I’m going to take them out.”

She held Talus while he dug into the holes and removed the bullets. Talus only winced. He rinsed out the wounds and bandaged them.

“There was a woman with Evan. A blonde with a patch over one eye,” Serenity said.

“Lysandra!” Talus jerked up, her hair wild around her face.

Serenity stared at her, shocked Talus knew her name, and then looked at Abbadon. “Who is Lysandra and why was Evan with her?”

Lowering his head, Abbadon edged back, retreating across the room.

“Who is Lysandra?” she demanded, rising to her feet.

He sat on the window ledge and finally looked at her. “Lysandra is my sister. She no longer uses that name and now goes by Artemis.”

Uncertain what to think, she stood motionless.

“Is she still alive?” Talus asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Abbadon said in a whisper.

Talus let out a howling screech. “Tell her the rest. Tell her why that bitch still lives, while Cassian is dead. Tell her!”

Befuddled, Serenity’s gaze bounced between them.

Abbadon sat rigid as a tree, planted to the windowsill. Dark blue blotches flashed on his skin in various areas on his face, chest and arms. They only appeared for seconds. He straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath and the sapphire explosions stopped.

“Lysandra and Cyrus…” His voice trailed off.

He spoke the words in a tone that made her reach for the sofa behind her.

“Tell her!” Talus shrieked.

Abbadon’s gaze fell. “Lysandra was his
inamorata
.”

She didn’t understand the word, but the meaning was clear. But it wasn’t possible.

Those of Herut believed in spiritual purity, in remaining celibate until finding their
kabashem
. There was no way Cyrus had touched another woman and certainly not that woman. She shook her head.
It was a lie.
Abbadon was mistaken. There was some misunderstanding.

It became difficult to breathe. Her lungs forgot how to expand or the air in the room suddenly became heavy as water. A vise squeezed her heart slowly and her chest ached.

She slumped to the edge of the sofa, staring at Abbadon.

The vise tightened and she grew lightheaded. Unfettered from the anchor, which kept her grounded in this new world, centered and focused, she drifted, completely lost. She could hear Abbadon speaking to her, but it was as if she floated away, overhead, as she listened.

“…Be merciful. It isn’t easy to share one’s greatest shame with the one we love most.”

“Merciful!” Talus choked on the word. “Who showed my brother mercy? Lysandra attacked us deliberately, toyed with us. She killed him, like he meant nothing. Like his life meant nothing. And still, he lets her live. He doesn’t deserve mercy!”

Falling to the floor, Talus wept. The sound of her wailing brought Serenity back. She had to forget her own pain so she could concentrate on Talus. She commanded her lungs to move and her heart to beat. She told her legs to straighten and her body to rise.

She went to Talus and held her. She closed her eyes, pictured a web and visualized sending vibrations of her energy out into it. The web lightened every time she sent out a pulse and prayed Talus could feel her. Talus tightened her embrace and dug into Serenity’s flesh with her fingers so hard she thought she might bleed.

“Promise me,” Talus pleaded in her ear, “if you loved Cassian, promise me you won’t show Cyrus any mercy.”

“I promise,” Serenity said. Fresh tears stung her sore eyes. “I won’t make it easy for him.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cyrus ripped off his jacket and dug a ditch. Wrath blazed inside of him, incinerating all other emotions. He tossed the broken bodies of the monsters he’d killed into the hole, poured sulfuric acid over them and covered them in dirt.

Molten fury pumped in his veins as his hands shook. Pressure built in his chest. He swung at a tree with the shovel. Metal buckled and snapped. He flung the pieces into the air and lunged at the tree. Tugging at the trunk, he ripped the roots from the earth and hurled it. He pushed on another one, shoving until the tree toppled.

Timber crunched and thundered to the ground. Each time he tore a tree up or knocked one down, he pictured Lysandra’s face. A howl escaped his lungs and he roared at the night.

When no more sound would leave his raw throat, and the rumble in his chest flattened, he dropped the chunks of wood and shuffled forward, the haze of anger and anguish clearing.

He stood over Cassian’s body, unable to believe he was gone. Falling to his knees, a strangled sound left his lips. He placed his hands on his son’s chest.
 

Not of his flesh, not of his blood, but his son in every way that mattered. He shook his body as if to wake him. His gaze traveled up to his boy’s neck…over to his head. She couldn’t even leave his body intact.

Hot moisture burned his eyes, blurring his vision. His son was dead.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

When Cyrus finally entered the great room, it seemed like hours had passed. Clothes and hands covered in dirt, breathing labored, features contorted in a ferocious expression, he looked savage. Serenity scanned his body, searching for any sign of blood.

“I moved Cassian,” he said in a gravelly voice. “We’ll bury him properly at sunset.”

Talus whimpered, her body scrunched into a fetal position.

Abbadon rose and marched up to Cyrus. “You’ve let this go on too long. No more of our brothers and sisters can die at her hands. It’s time you release me from my oath. You have to let me put her down.”

“I release you, brother. We will hunt her. And when we find her, we will avenge Cassian,” he said in a low voice, hard as steel.

“Why was she here?” Serenity asked, still holding Talus.

Cyrus faced her. “This is uncharacteristic of Lysandra to come here like this. She must’ve been looking for something, possibly one of the documents in the safe upstairs.”

“I checked the safe. They tried to break in, but it wasn’t breached.” Abbadon ran a hand over his head. “This isn’t good. Now that she has Evan, she knows all about Serenity. We need to call in the team or even some of the battle-guard until we decide how to handle the situation.”

“I’ll call the others. We need to find her and put an end to this.”

Gently releasing Talus, Serenity stood and went to Cyrus. She ran a hand timidly over his chest, checking to make sure he wasn’t injured.

Lysandra was his inamorata
.

She yanked her hand away as if touching him had stung her skin. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Evan?” she asked and held her breath.

“He lives.”

Thank goodness.
She shut her eyes for a moment, grateful for the news. “Why was he with her?”

“It’s common for her to recruit humans that know about us,” Cyrus said. “She’s been doing it for years, but we didn’t know why. She was with those mercs from your apartment. We’ve never found a link between her and Gallacom Industries before, but it explains why they were interested in you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Evan wouldn’t volunteer to join a band of psycho mercs, and there’s no way he’d willingly go with Artemis if she’s Kindred.”

“Lysandra pretends to be human,” Cyrus said.

“Why?”

“She is a vile creature. She loathes herself and all Kindred,” Abbadon answered.

“Can I speak to you privately?” she asked Cyrus.

“Certainly.”

“Cyrus, I trust you won’t be leaving next week and I can cancel the arrangements?” Abbadon asked.

“We’re staying. I’ll cancel everything. Would you prepare the ceremony for Cassian’s burial?”

Abbadon nodded.

Serenity looked at Cyrus perplexed. “What arrangements?”

“I was going to take you to Morocco, to show you the Imperial cities. It was to be a surprise for your birthday.”

In the chaos of her new world, she’d forgotten all about her birthday.

“Where’s his body?” Talus asked in a hoarse voice that cracked.

“He’s in the meditation room,” Cyrus said.

They left the great room and Cyrus went to the stairs.

“Can we speak outside?” she asked.

He had a grave look on his face as he turned and walked outside through the courtyard. Every light blazed, casting a surreal glow. He drifted far out on to the grass. Once he reached an area away from the brightness of the house, he sat.

She sank to her knees just behind him. For the first time, a noticeable distance stretched between them like an emotional gorge. She was used to sensing some feeling from him, but a wall had gone up, blocking her from reading him. He sat quietly, staring at the dark lake. She opened her mouth to ask the question, but cringed, stifling her voice.
 

The vise tightened in her chest and she found it hard to swallow.

 

Cyrus didn’t want her to feel his pain or to have sympathy for him. He pictured himself far away on an island and imagined they were divided by an ocean. He visualized reeling in his emotions to contain them on that island, to spare her the brunt of his grief and shame.

“When I left House Herut, I was very young, younger than you are now.” He lowered his head. “I was naïve, full of rebellion. I didn’t want the responsibility that had been thrust upon me since I’d been born.” He stared straight ahead into the darkness.

“I wanted to figure out what I believed in, what I wanted, without the judgment of Herut and their ideals. When I left, Abbadon and a warrior named Elianus came with me to watch over me. I didn’t know where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do. I only knew I wanted to travel, to be anywhere, except there. Abbadon’s sister, Lysandra, had left many years earlier and had settled down in Panama.”

His stomach churned at drudging up the old memories. “We went there. He thought talking to her might help me since she’s also Blessed and experienced the same doubts I had. She was living down in the valley and seemed to be doing well. We ended up staying.”

He looked down at his shaking hands and curled them into fists. “As I got to know her, over time, my attraction for her grew. I became curious. Eventually, Lysandra and I became lovers. Abbadon disapproved, but felt it wasn’t his place to intervene since I was on my journey of self-discovery and needed to find my own answers.

“Abbadon and Elianus went with me to explore ruins in Costa Rica. We were away when it happened. When we returned to Panama…the
sangre saevitas
had taken her over. The Triumvirate had sent envoys to formally invite Abbadon to serve as battle-guard. My mother was with them. She wanted to convince me to return to House Herut.”

He angled his head as if to look at her, but didn’t connect with her eyes. He stared back into the darkness.

“Lysandra had killed them. We found her bathing in their blood. When she saw us, we fought. I ended up taking her eye in the struggle. Abbadon wanted to kill her, but I made him swear he wouldn’t. She had a mark of the Fallen.” His voice was despondent, a quivering thread. “And…I cared for her. I couldn’t kill her.

“We restrained her. The bout of madness passed. She didn’t have blood-red eyes yet. When she returned to herself, I saw the remorse in her after she realized what she’d done. I knew the sickness would take her over again in weeks, maybe days, and she’d have to be euthanized, but I let her go. I should have killed her, but couldn’t. We went back to Herut and told the Triumvirate what happened.”

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