Lacrimosa (32 page)

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Authors: Christine Fonseca

BOOK: Lacrimosa
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Aydan

 

My mind is not my own. It’s wild, violent.

I attack the angels, desperate for their blood. But something holds me back, keeping me from killing them outright.
Pointless.
I will destroy them. I will kill them all.

I attack with my sword. Rip at them with my claws. Nothing but their death can stop me now. I chase them through the mayhem, my excitement, my need, growing with every step.

“Zane. This isn’t working.” I know her voice, remember it from my life before. Cassiel. Her fear urges me forward.
“I know, Cass. Just try to keep from getting hurt. I’ll push into his thoughts again.”
Zane.
I know them both.
Not that I care.
Kill them

No.

Do it now


Stop.
My hand rips across Cass’s back. Her scream floods my ears as her torment flows through my senses, feeding me.
More.
I need more.

A voice, not my own, floods my thoughts.
..Stop. This isn’t who you are...It isn’t too late...Please. For Nesy...
The words tumble through the recesses of my mind, tugging on something deep.

Stop


Keep attacking
.

Let them go


Kill them now
.
Agony explodes up my spine, setting my blood on fire. My need coils around my torment, suffocating me.
“Zane. Do something.” Cass pleads. The gash on her back sizzles.
“I am. It isn’t working.” Zane dodges my blade.
I corner them against the stone walls of the cathedral.
Must.
Kill.
Now.
The stones reflect the crimson glow emanating from my marks.
“Cass, you try. Go into his heart. Try to—”
I strike Zane, ending his words and sending him to his knees.
You’re mine.

Something—someone—floods my heart. Cassiel. She showers me with memories best forgotten.

Love for an angel


Nesy
.

Mercy for a human


Lori

“Get out,” I yell through gritted teeth. I pin her with my glare, stealing her air. The color drains from her face. She grabs at her throat, unable to breathe. Her eyes widen with fright. I shove her against the stone wall, and tear her from my heart. Her eyes roll back into her head as she collapses to the ground.

“Aydan. The marks aren’t complete. You can fight your way back.”
Zane’s words mean nothing to me. I raise my sword to strike.
My thoughts blur.
My mind goes blank.

My hand opens against my will, sending my sword crashing to the ground as my thoughts explode in a burst of emotion. Hunger. Guilt. Torment. Love.

Each feeling is a distraction. The Beast screams as the feelings attach themselves to every part of me. I scarcely notice the ground shaking. Or the Sentinals pouring into the courtyard. They close in around me. And chaos descends.

Demon against Guardian.
UnHoly against Sentinal.
Fear, despair, and death rage as the battle drones on. It feeds me, focusing my efforts. Making me strong.

Zane dives for me, his fingers wrapped around his meager dagger. I strip his weapon from him with a flick of my hand, sending him hurtling to the ground.

The Sentinals descend on me. “I knew I should have finished this before,” the leader says.

Zaapiel. His name is Zaapiel.

How do I know this
?

I engage the Sentinal. We spar, the sound of our blades lost amidst the battle sounds circulating around us. We circle and strike, a fatal dance to the death. Zaapiel’s rage fills the air and coats my tongue.

I want more. I hook his dagger and slice through his arm.

Got you now, little warrior
.

Zaapiel counters, thrusting his sword into my flesh. My mind swirls as I stare at the sword protruding from my chest and stumble. I’m hurt, but not dead.

Not by a long shot.
Grabbing the hilt with both hands, I yank it free with a feral scream.
“You will pay for that Sentinal,” I snarl, my words sounding more like a growl.

I lunge forward, digging my claws into Zaapiel’s throat. His flesh sizzles. He slides to the ground next to Cass and Zane, blood oozing from his wound. His pain feeds me. His torment fills the empty spaces inside.

I lift the Sentinal by the throat. His eyes are cold. Hard. He tries to speak. Garbled sounds replace his words.
Cass and Zane rise.
They slam into my mind. Take over my heart.
Emotions ebb and flow for a moment. Until I block the intrusion and throw them from me.
“That won’t work, little angels. Not anymore.” I bring Zaapiel within inches of my face.
Time to feed.
I bring my lips to the Sentinal’s mouth as a familiar voice screams in my head.
Killing me.

 

Chapter 43 - Libera Me

 

Nesy

 

“No,” I scream, watching Aydan across the courtyard.

He will destroy all of you,
Azza taunts, his voice resonating deep within my thoughts.

“He’s not yours yet.” I push through the throng of dark creatures. “Stop, Aydan,” I yell at the Beast before me. “This isn’t you.”

The sound of breaking stone and metal pulls my attention to the statue of Mikayel. Pieces of stone fall away as the sculpture comes to life, turning into my master. “Go,” he says. “Tend to your friends. I will find Azzaziel.”

I run for Aydan, desperate to stop him. His death-lust radiates through me.

“Aydan! No!” I scream as his lips cover Zaapiel’s mouth. “Remember who you are.”

I barrel into Aydan, slamming him into the stone wall and pinning him with Zaapiel’s sword. He’s stronger now, so much stronger. I shove the sword against his throat, staring into his lifeless face. “Zane, Cass. Get Zaap out of here. Now!”

“But—” Cass moves to help me.

“Do it now!” My voice booms off the stones as I push the sword harder against my love.

Zane grabs Cass. They take Zaapiel and disappear through a portal, their actions only a blur. I stare into Aydan’s hard face as he growls at me. His beautiful amber eyes are gone, replaced by the empty black orbs of the Beast.

Just like Azza’s

“You’re too late, Sentinal. Your Aydan is gone.”

His voice fills me with fear. Gone are the musical notes that filled me with love yesterday, replaced by something so sinister it rattles my core.

My gaze travels down his face and neck, counting the angry tangles of lines that crisscross and knot across his flesh. One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five…
Only five completed patterns.

There’s still hope
.

“You’re not lost, Aydan. You’re still here, trapped somewhere inside of yourself. I can feel it.”

Chaos swirls around us as the sounds of battle increase. Screams mix with metal and the swoosh of portals and gateways opening. Aydan wrestles against my sword. Wrapping a hand around the blade, he shoves hard, slicing a large gash. He continues to push, slamming the blade into my chest. The blow rolls off my breastplate as I spin away. “Aydan. It’s me.”

I parry and block his onslaught of blows, unable to counter. “Stop this. You aren’t lost. I can still feel your heart. I know you’re in there. Our love still lives in you.”

I step back and duck, his blade a mere inch overhead. “Please, Aydan. Stop.”
He growls and attacks again. Blow after blow. Thrust after thrust. Relentless.
I block every attack, retreating into the shadows. He advances, nothing but desperation in his black eyes.
“I love you Aydan,” I say, pleading. “Still.”
He refuses to abate the onslaught of his hits. Every parry I make, every counter I strike, seals our fate.
Maybe I am too late.

Please,
I scream into his thoughts.
You aren’t like him. You have a choice. Don’t do this.

He waivers. His hungry expression turns to anguish. “Come back to me, Aydan. Love me.”

He stops and I knock the sword from his hand. His eyes widen with recognition. The black orbs begin to change, lighten, as amber irises fleck through the dark circles.

Every jagged line of color brings me hope. “Aydan?” His name scrapes across my lips as my heart clenches.
“Nesy.” He chokes. “Wh—?”
His knees buckle. He lowers his head and I watch the color drain from his face.
“Sshh,” I say as I grab his arms. “Don’t try to talk. You’re weak.” I bear his weight and steady him.
I feel him melt into my arms. A silhouette forms in the darkness, accompanied by the unwanted stench of death.
“He is far from weak, little Sentinal.” Azza emerges from the shadows, armed with a Sentinal’s sword.
Releasing Aydan, I raise my sword. Azzaziel is not claiming Aydan now, not while I’m still alive.

Azza raises the Sentinal’s sword to Aydan’s neck. The blade drips with the same black liquid oozing from the Dark One’s wounds. Our eyes lock.

“I won’t let you finish that mark,” I say as I circle towards him.

“And Aydan won’t let you prevent it.” He counters. “He knows what will happen to you if he doesn’t complete the sacrament.”

“Don’t listen, Aydan. You don’t have to do this.” I edge forward, glancing between the sword at Aydan’s neck and his eyes.
I love you,
I whisper into his thoughts.

Nodding imperceptibly to Aydan, I swing a large arc over his head, slicing into Azza’s flesh.

The move catches him off guard. He stumbles back and drops the sword. Aydan reaches for my arm and smiles. His eyes lighten even further.

“Let’s end this,” I say.

Together.

The UnHoly swarm around Aydan and me, weapons swinging in every direction. We slash through them together and push the mob back into the shadows.

Azza retreats from our blows. I dive for him, carving new gashes into his skin.

He parries. Attacks. Slashing into my armor, he batters me. His blows are strong—but not as strong as they once were.

Azza and I circle and lunge with deliberate precision. The force of each blow rattles the ground, sending tiny tremors up my arm. I advance, steering Azza away from Aydan and back to the broken statue of Mikayel. New gashes appear on his thighs, his shoulders, his chest.

He counters every blow, searing his own trail of lacerations along my flesh. But every blow costs him a little.
He’s growing weaker.
I double my efforts, ignoring the pain and fatigue coating my cells. I can think of nothing but Azza and the vengeance I crave.
“You won’t win.” He attacks, colliding with my breastplate. “You won’t save Aydan.”

“I already have.” I swing, landing a hard blow across his heart. Every moment of torment, every ounce of vengeance is poured into that blow. Azza crumbles, falling to his knees at my feet. His weapon falls from his hands as confusion paints his expression.

I kick the weapon far from his reach. I don’t care that I can’t kill him, don’t care about anything other than unleashing the fury I’ve felt for so long. Gripping my sword with two hands I stand over him, the blade positioned over his heart. I stare into his cold lifeless eyes. Vengeance is mine at last.

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