Read Iniquity (The Premonition Series Book 5) Online
Authors: Amy A Bartol
The white wings of Other Brennus push downward, lifting us off the rooftop. The souls of Declan and Lachlan each take a side of Reed’s net, lofting into the red haze of sky with him. We fly between buildings that are a mishmash of styles. It appears that each has tried to outdo the other with ornate embellishment.
We approach a fantastical piece of architecture at the end of the city, near the red river. It hurts my stomach to look at it because it is everything I know about Emil. The building is Rococo, which means it’s supremely ornate. Made of stone, the structure soars into the red sky much higher than a stone building should, given its weight. On the façade over hanging the doors, is mounted Emil’s enormous carved face, also done in Rococo-style. It’s his hooded eyes staring blankly out for ten stories or more while a twisting, snake-like tongue crawls from his mouth. There are two smaller statues embedded on either side of Emil’s face. They’re identical, naked likenesses of Simone holding long metal pikes with heads of angels impaled upon them. One angel head is clearly Reed; the other one is that of Xavier.
We enter through the door below Emil’s vile stone head. It’s cavernous inside. Elegantly dressed angels mill around on plush furniture, sipping sparkling liquid from beautiful glasses. Everywhere I look there’s a statue of my inescapable or some carved tribute to him from a past lifetime. Our presence causes a stir—feathers ruffle, high-pitched guffaws pierce the air. The faeries souls don’t stop here, but merely cross the room to another one.
The next room we enter is asymmetrical, and heavily laden with ornamental carvings. Chandeliers hang low from the high ceiling. Brennus has to walk around them like trees. This is a type of throne room. There’s a balcony above our heads that Emil must use to look down on the peasants. Emil emerges from it. He has shed his golden armor. He stands at the railing attired in black dress slacks, but his chest is bare and he has on a black, silk robe that is open. He doesn’t bother to tie it now as he leans his forearms on the railing and looks down at us.
“Simone,” he breathes the name, like it’s the most exquisite thing he’s ever heard. “You’ve finally come to visit me—after all this time. What do you think of my home?”
“I think it’s an ugly shrine to you.”
Emil laughs. “That isn’t a very nice thing to say, Simone. And if there’s one thing about you that I know, it’s that you always try to be nice.”
“I’m not Simone anymore, Emil.”
“Yes, you are. You’re still Simone and I’m still Emil and I still own you.” He leaps over the railing, falling a story to us. He lands on his feet. Shedding his robe, he unfurls his crimson Seraphim wings. They spread out around him, majestic and primal at the same time. He would be so beautiful to me if I didn’t know him, but I do. I know him almost as well as I know myself. He is evil incarnate. He is pretty pain.
Aodh’s soul interrupts Emil. “We have delivered her to you intact. We would have our reward.”
“DO NOT SPEAK!” Emil’s face twists in anger. He doesn’t look at Aodh’s soul. He only has eyes for me. “Cut her legs free.” Other Brennus complies with his order. My legs are unbound. “Have you brought Reed with you? Is that the divine Power, wiggling like a fish in a net?”
I try to distract him from my angel. “What’s that around your neck, Emil?”
The evil half Seraph looks down at his necklace, touching the shiny metal whistle that hangs from the chain. “It’s a boatswain. I’m sure you recognize it. I believe you have one too, but mine unlocks a much better place than yours will. I have the key to Heaven, my inescapable. I just need to clean up anything on Earth that could threaten our flank before we storm Paradise. That was the reason I invaded Earth today. I started a war. Once the earthbound divine and the Gancanagh are annihilated, there will be few left who will interfere with us as we advance to Paradise and take back our rightful place.”
Emil approaches me with a vulture stare. He puts his hand on Other Brennus’ shoulder, pushing him away from me. The faerie soul moves back, complying with Emil’s will. Emil embraces me, pressing his face to my hair and inhaling my scent. “Ah,” he says at last, “I have missed you. I keep telling myself that you’re the thorn in my side and I’d like to smash your head in, and that’s true, but it’s also true that when you’re at my mercy, like this, I feel as though I cannot live without you.”
“That’s because you’re a psycho,” I reply. “You started a war, and then you ran back here to hide like a coward while other beings fight it for you.”
“I see that you have forgotten just how bad your life can be when you anger me, Simone.” He puts his arm around my shoulders, leading me across the marble floor to a set of doors below his balcony. Behind us, all of the faeries follow along, bringing Reed with them. Emil opens the door and we enter a darkened room. Soft light from wall sconces make the room feel ritualistic.
A huge slab, altar-like table resides in the center of the room, but it’s partly blocked by a Seraph who has his back to us. I shudder. I don’t need to see his dark brown eyes to recognize Byzantyne. His wings spread wide as he bends over the altar. I watch his arm pull back, as if he’s wrenching something away. I catch sight of what it is when he moves to the side a little. He has just sawed the wing off of another angel. Fear clenches my stomach and I retch. Byzantyne rests the severed wing on the ground, leaning it against the side of the altar. I turn my head and vomit, unable to stop my violent reaction.
Byzantyne turns and faces me at the sound. His hands are red from blood and gore. He steps aside for me to see his victim on the table. My heart turns black and dies in my chest. It’s Xavier. My knees weaken, and if it were not for Emil’s arm around me, I’d crumble to the floor. “Simone,” Byzantyne’s smile is crushing. “There you are. You’re late. I’ve already started. I couldn’t wait. I know you’ll forgive me my impatience. I’ve waited so long for this moment.”
Emil tries to bring me closer to the altar, but I resist him, fighting to stay away. I can’t see this. I’ll go mad if I see this.
Xavier!
“There, there, Simone. This is what you need. You have to see this to remember who we are. You need to know that I am your master and you will never be anything but my slave.”
Emil drags me to the altar. I shut my eyes, unwilling to look upon the carnage that is Xavier. A hand presses to my forehead, pinning me to Emil’s chest. “Look at him, Simone. Look at him, or I kill Reed now!” I open my eyes. I have seen torture before—have experienced it myself in many, many lifetimes. All of that past experience still leaves me unprepared for this. Byzantyne has stripped off the skin from half of Xavier’s face and body. My guardian angel is still alive, but it can’t be long before shock and trauma render him unable to survive. Xavier’s eyes open, he stares at me as if he’s seeing a vision before him. There is no fear on his face, only acceptance. “He was willing to die for you,” Emil taunts. “He came here to save you only you weren’t here, were you? He’s always too late. He never helped you much before and now he has failed you again.”
The faerie souls move in closer, wanting to see the torture of a Seraph. Other Brennus stands next to me, his white eyes are almost unblinking. Byzantyne lifts another saw in his hand. I flinch and a moan escapes me as I tremble with wracking shakes. Emil lets go of my forehead. I turn my head, trying to think of a way to drown out the sound of the saw. I begin to hum; I don’t even know what the tune is until another soft voice joins mine. The humming comes from Other Brennus. It’s the melody that his battle-axe sings to me whenever I touch it. Other Brennus’ eyes are on me and they’re no longer white, but iridescent green with flecks of black in them. I turn my head, seeing Other Finn on my left side. His milky eyes stare straight ahead. In my mind, I think,
Sing your song softly to Finn.
The hammer in Finn’s soul’s hand begins to sing at a whispery volume. His eyes change suddenly to bright green. He blinks, and then his eyes connect with mine. “Help me,” I mouth the words.
Other Finn looks beyond me to his brother. Other Brennus slips the soul slayer dagger from the sheath on Emil’s belt. The two faerie souls stare at one another, until Other Brennus signals his brother with a nod. In unison, they both attack Emil, stabbing and beating him with vicious thrusts. Emil crashes to the floor behind me, his body being quickly transformed into a bloody pulp. Emil’s soul rises up from his decapitated angelic body. Other Brennus growls at it. Raising the dagger that was made to kill me, Other Brennus stabs it into Emil’s soul. His lazy eyes register agony as his image turns black and explodes in a swirl of ebony smoke. Other Finn faces me, looking at me for his next order. The ropes that bind me fall away as Other Brennus uses Emil’s soul slayer to slice through them.
“Kill him,” I order, pointing at Byzantyne. The faerie brothers turn their attention to the barbaric Seraph.
Byzantyne has a stricken look on his face. He stumbles back from the altar, dropping the bone saw. His mouth opens in shock as he sees the mess that was Emil on the ground at my feet. I look away from him to Other Lachlan. I hum Lachlan’s song. The faerie soul’s eyes turn blue and he blinks, as if he’s waking up from a nightmare. I change my tune to Faolan’s song. Faolan’s soul becomes lucid.
“Set down the net and free the angel inside it,” I order the souls of Faolan and Lachlan. They cut the netting off Reed. He springs free of the snare. Pulling the ring from his finger, he becomes visible once more. He drops the ring on the floor as he extracts his spade blades from his wrist holsters.
Reed comes to me, checking quickly to see if I’m okay. Then he crouches down and examines Emil’s dead corpse for a moment. When he rises again, he pulls the chain of the boatswain from beneath his armor. He lifts it over his head, transferring it to me. The key to Sheol settles around my neck.
“Why are you giving this to me,” I try to take it off.
Reed stays my hand, covering it with his own.
“The faerie souls annihilated Emil’s soul, love,” Reed replies. “You’ll need a way out of here no matter what happens.”
“Reed,” I say his name in shock.
He lets go of my hand. “I will always love you, Evie. Always.” He presses his lips to my forehead, and then he turns and joins Other Brennus and Other Finn in stalking Byzantine. The cornered wicked Seraph pulls a dagger from a sheath attached to his waist, while adopting a defensive crouch. Every time the faerie souls try to get near him, Byzantyne strikes out, nearly decapitating them. Reed moves in. He’s so fast that Byzantyne hardly knows he’s been cut before he’s sliced open again. Reed is killing him slowly and by degrees. His black armor is covered with the arterial spray of Byzantyne’s blood.
Aodh’s soul sees what’s happening and tries to leave, but the souls of Lachlan and Faolan are on him, seizing his arms and binding them with rope. Tearing off his shirt, Faolan’s soul stuffs it in Aodh’s mouth so no one will hear him scream.
Xavier moans in agony. The sight of his blood running in rivers off the sides of the altar makes me blanch. I go to him, my hand hesitating above his flesh, not knowing where I can put it that will not cause him excruciating pain. I find his hand and hold it. Lifting his fingers to my lips I kiss them while tears roll down my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Xavier,” I whisper.
He opens his mismatched eyes and looks at me. “Now,” his feeble voice whispers, “you know how I feel every time I watch you suffer—every time I watch you die.” The agony in my chest won’t subside. I feel as though I can’t breathe.
“I have the advantage here,” I reply, wiping my nose with my sleeve, “because I can do something about it. I can take your pain from you.”
“Do not, Evie,” Xavier groans, his pain nearly unbearable.
“I can’t let you die, Xavier.”
“You have to,” he growls.
“No, I don’t.” I lay my hand on his chest, urging it to turn golden so that I can take away his pain. Seconds pass and nothing happens. Xavier’s breath becomes thready. He sounds as if he’s dying. Panic makes me press my palm to him in a different place on his chest, concentrating on taking his wounds into me, but the light that would do it doesn’t glow. My ability to heal is gone, or it just doesn’t work in this horrible place. I clench my fists again, trying to make it work, but nothing happens. I can’t take his wounds from him. I choke. Fresh, hot tears rush to my eyes. “I SURRENDER! DO YOU HEAR ME?” I yell. I look upward. “I surrender! I give up my stipulation in the contract! I forfeit my choice! Do you hear me? Please take Xavier back to Paradise! Don’t let him die!
Please
!” My face reddens and my eyes burn. I lay my forehead on Xavier’s chest and I cry my heart out.
The music of Angelic voices echoes around me, calling Xavier’s name. Opening my eyes, I don’t see them, but I feel Xavier’s chest fall. I lift my head from my crossed arms. He has become paper-thin, flickering with bursts of light. I lift my arms from his chest. He loses his features as they become dark. A galaxy of stars replaces them. The stars turn shadowy; it shrinks in size until it is just a pinpoint of light, and then Xavier is gone.
Among the blood and guts on the table, I find his ring—the one with the shield and sword on it. I pick it up and slip it into the knife holster on the side of my combat armor. Tilting my face upward, I strain to get the words, “Thank you,” past the constriction in my throat.
A scream of pain jolts me from my thoughts. Byzantyne falls to his knees, at least I think he’s Byzantyne. The wicked angel is slick with blood and so cut up that he’s unrecognizable, except for his hair and what is left of his wings. His head slumps forward on his chest. Reed walks behind him grasping Byzantyne’s head by the ear, he wraps his forearm around the evil Seraph’s forehead and jerks it to the side, breaking his neck and crushing in his skull.
Reed straightens and looks at me with sorrow in his green eyes. “I can hear them, Evie. They’re calling me.”
Tears spring to my eyes again. I hear them too, the whispering voices of a multitude of angels. “Then you have to go,” I whisper, because I know he can’t fight the call of Heaven.