Authors: Seressia Glass
Tags: #Fantasy fiction, #Contemporary, #Fiction - Fantasy, #General, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Fantasy - Contemporary
Shadow Blade (27 page)
It had more than comforted her. It had kept her anchored.
“How long?”
“It’s been a couple of days.”
Two days?
“Oh gods.
I need a phone.”
Wordlessly Khefar dug a mobile out of his back pocket. Her hands shook and her vision blurred as she attempted to tap in a number.
Khefar took the phone from her. “Tell me the number.”
She did. He punched it in,
then
pressed the phone to her cheek. She whispered her thanks, clutching the phone close, too unnerved to wonder why she didn’t receive any impressions from the device. Her heart pounded against her rib cage and she could almost hear her blood racing through her veins.
Don’t let me be too late, please don’t let me be too late.
The phone didn’t complete its first ring. “That had better be you, daughter.”
“Balm.”
She tried again.
“Mother.
Just wanted to call to tell you I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. You sound like you were pulled back from death.”
She looked up at Khefar. “I was. But I’m back now. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”
“That’s because you couldn’t call earlier.” Balm’s voice shook. She sounded angry, upset and relieved, revealing far more emotion than Kira had ever heard from her. “I called for you, but you didn’t answer. For a full day you didn’t answer.”
Oh, no.
“Are you on your way here?”
“I made it to
No, no, no.
“Please go back home, Mother. I’m sorry that I worried you, but I’m up and about now.”
“You don’t want me there?” Balm’s voice warbled. Again she had no idea of the emotion behind it. “A mother can’t rush to her daughter’s side, to see with her own eyes that she’s alive and well?”
“You’re the Balm of Gilead.” She closed her eyes. Arguing with Balm was tough on the best of days; being off-line for two days left her with even fewer defenses against the head of the Commission.
She tried a different tack: honesty. “I’m fighting one of the Fallen. You can’t be exposed to that level of threat. You need to trust us to do our jobs and stop this menace. You need to trust me.”
“I trust you, Kira, but I don’t trust what’s around you. This is an entirely different level of danger than we’ve seen before. And for some reason, the Oracles have a large blank spot whenever they try to focus on you.”
“Really?
That doesn’t happen.”
“I know it doesn’t happen,” Balm snapped, a clear indication of just how upset she was. “This battle you fight is larger than Gilead’s ability to track and predict.
I .
. . I’m afraid for you, Kira.”
“I am afraid for myself.” She had to blink rapidly against the emotion that swept over her, threatening to pull her under. “I had a close call. I know that. It’ll make me more careful, but not if I have to worry about the heart and soul of Gilead being so close to one of the Fallen.” Her grip tightened on the phone. “Please, Balm. I need you to be in Gilead more than I need you here.”
Silence, then a sigh.
“All right, daughter. I’ll return home. Make sure that you come to visit me this evening. I’ll leave a pathway open for you.”
“I will; I promise.”
Her eyelids slid closed. She concentrated on simply breathing, too emotionally and physically drained to do much more than that. For Balm to be afraid, things had to have been really bad.
Khefar took the phone from her, and she whispered her thanks as she reopened her eyes. “You said it’s been two days?”
He nodded. “This is late afternoon on the second day.”
Zoo’s magic and
her own
Chaser abilities usually made her heal faster than regular humans. She must have been seriously messed up to be out two whole days.
Her gaze roamed the room, taking in the twin-size bed with its plain white cotton sheets, the oak chest of drawers,
the
whitewashed door she remembered led to a bathroom. She looked to Khefar again, dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt she thought she’d seen him in before. Exhaustion pulled at his features, accented by the stubble shadowing his chin. Had he sat by her the entire time, holding her hand? “This is my safe room at Wynne and Zoo’s house.”
He nodded. “We decided to bring you here since none of us knew what protections you have on your place, and time was a factor.”
Kira translated mentally:
I had probably been pretty close to biting the big one. It certainly would explain why Balm had been on the way to Atlanta and why I can’t feel my extrasense
. The fact that she couldn’t decide which of those terrified her more meant her batteries were in serious need of recharging.
“Here.” He held a cup and straw for her. “You must be thirsty.”
She was and eagerly sucked the water down. He returned the cup to the nightstand and without asking, gathered her hand again. It was nice. She shoved her free hand through her hair, wincing at the lingering ache. “Where are they?
Wynne and Zoo?”
“When it seemed like you were starting to come out of it, Zoo went to his greenhouse to get some herbs for you. Wynne left a moment ago to get you some food.”
Leaving her alone with the Nubian.
That didn’t make sense to her. In the handful of times that she’d gotten into serious scrapes, Wynne was always there to tell her—with much love and affection, of course—just how idiotic she’d been. Her friend wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to remind her that they were all a team. What, she wondered, had happened?
“Okay.” She wanted to sit up, but it meant letting go of his hand. Already she missed the contact. Her muscles protested as she tried to rise, causing her to grimace. Khefar moved to help her. She froze as his arms went around her shoulders,
then
forced herself to relax. “Someone had to carry me here. I guess that was you, huh?”
“Yes.”
So matter-of-fact, as unruffled as usual.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
Gods, he’d made her blush. She never blushed.
“Yeah.”
He stood. “I can carry you.”
“No.” Having him carry her would be more than she could handle. “No, just help me hobble over to the door. I can take it from there.”
He wrapped a thick arm around her waist and helped her up. Going from sitting to standing was a dizzying experience and she leaned into him, inhaling deeply through her nose until her equilibrium returned.
She took care of business as quickly as her muscles would allow. Her empty bladder and stomach only compounded the sensation of something vital being missing. The Avatar had done something, worked some sort of magic to strip her powers away. Nico had done that too. Both had given her a liquid concoction that had scalded her senses and rendered her powerless. Maybe it was time to know what they had done so that she could find a way to reverse it. She never wanted to feel this level of powerlessness again.
Never wanted to be without her magic again.
It was a fundamental realignment. Her extrasense was more than mental, more than psychic ability. In the Normal world, where magic was something acted out in epic fantasy movies or on Las Vegas stages, Kira was an anomaly. She’d always known things about people, at least since she was five and in the first foster home she remembered. Her earliest memory was of a ruler smacking her open palms, punishment for touching her foster mother. A five-year-old didn’t have the social filter of adults, and she thought she was being helpful when she’d tell people what they were truly thinking and feeling. No matter how often she’d tried to suppress it, she could feel her power swimming through her veins gathering strength until it manifested itself as blue light when she reached puberty.
She’d hated her powers her entire life. Now that they were gone, she’d do almost anything to get them back.
Kira stared in the mirror, hoping to jog her memory. Her reflection was better than she’d expected but that was more a testament to Zoo’s skills than anything else. Something was still off. She’d gone to confront the Avatar. She remembered it hadn’t gone well, but she’d managed to fight her way clear.
No, that didn’t seem right to her. She leaned closer to the mirror and blinked. Her eyes, normally a chocolate brown, had lightened to amber. Flecks of green caught the light as she turned her head.
Fingers curled around the lip of the sink. Memories swirled through her consciousness, indistinct but full of pain.
Nico.
Fighting Shadowlings.
Screams and more screams.
And colors, swirls of yellow, blue, and green.
No, she hadn’t left the Avatar easily. He’d
done .
. . something. What the hell had happened to her?
You belong to me, to Shadow, already. You just haven’t realized it yet.
She whimpered as the words, the voice, slithered through her mind.
No, gods, no.
She was a Shadowchaser; she belonged to the Light. She’d never give herself to Shadow. She’d rather die first.
“Kira, are you okay?”
She wiped at her mouth with a shaky hand,
then
opened the bathroom door, making sure to keep her gaze to the floor.
“Yeah, just trying to get my legs back.”
He helped her back to the bed, fussed with the pillows like a nursemaid. She considered it sweet in a way, but also concerning. She must have been in a really bad way to warrant this kind of attention from him. How had they found her? Where had they found her? Trying to remember only made her head hurt.
He wrapped his fingers around hers again, scattering her thoughts. It would have been nice, except for the fact that his frown was firmly in place.
The man could do eighteen different versions of dour.
“So the Balm of Gilead, head of the Gilead Commission, creator of Shadowchasers, is your mother?”
She rubbed at her forehead with her free hand. At least he’d waited until she relieved herself to question her. “You know her, huh?”
“I know that it takes a formidable woman to be the Balm of Gilead.
The brilliant mind of Cleopatra.
The fighting spirit of Boadicea.
The inspiring leadership of Amanirenas standing against the Romans.
And she’s your mother.” He shook his head ruefully. “Now I know why you are the way you are.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not so ignored it instead. “Balm did not birth me, but she took me in, forged me into what I am today. Anyway, she was about three hours from descending on us like a landslide, so thank you for letting me use your phone.”
He gave a brief nod.
“Seems like we averted another major crisis, then.”
“You have no idea. Or maybe you do. I remember the day she gave me my
Lightblade .
. . gods.” The reason behind the empty sensation finally dawned on her.
“My blade.
Where’s my Lightblade?”
“You didn’t have it when we found you. Anansi went back there yesterday but there were no traces of it.”
“Gods, that means the Avatar has my Lightblade.” She buried her face in her hands, trying to fight down her panic, her defenselessness. “How could he have it? He’s
Fallen
. He’s not supposed to be able to touch something forged of Light. How could I have let it go? Why would I have let it go?”
“What do you remember?”
She struggled to drag information to the surface, details fuzzed by whatever the Avatar had done to her extrasense. “I got a call from Gilead, saying that the sweepers had gotten a hit on Shadow-magic near the
She remembered then that she’d left him at the Carlos. “I’m sorry I left you.”
“No, you’re not. The timing was just convenient.”
True, she wasn’t sorry, but he wouldn’t appreciate that she’d left him behind as a safeguard. “Enig—the Avatar—told me he’s been planning this move for years, moving up in rank and power in the Shadowrealm and of course, he’s looking to make this world his new domain.”
“He wants to destroy it?”
“No, not destroy, just take it over and create a new world order, the usual Shadow Shuffle. He seems to think your dagger will help him with that. He thought I would too.”
“He wanted you to work for him?”
“Something
like
that.” She looked away. “He tried to bribe me. Naturally I refused. It went downhill pretty quickly after that.”
His anger broke free like a clap of thunder. She knew a curse word when she heard it, even if she didn’t know the language. “What were you thinking, going off alone?”
“I was thinking that I was doing my job.”
“It was a trap.”
“I know.”
“You knew it was a trap and you went anyway?” His grip tightened. “You could have been killed!”
She sighed. “I know that too. But I couldn’t leave the Gilead team there and I couldn’t take you since what the Avatar really wants is your blade. You’re not the only one who’s trying to save lives here. So I’m sorry if my actions threatened your karmic tally.”
“My karmic tally.”
His jaw worked. “That’s what you believe this to be about? That I’m angry because you could have cost me my afterlife?”
“Why else? This is my job. It’s always been dangerous and the unknown is even more so. It’s why I give Wynne and Zoo an extraction time and why they have trackers on me. I’ve been a Shadowchaser for a long time and I’ve never been afraid of dying, especially if I take some of them out when I go.”
Chapter 23
W
ynne, frozen in the doorway,
gasped,
a distressed noise that sucked out all of Khefar’s anger. Zoo stepped behind her, and squeezed her shoulder.