Retribution, Devotion (29 page)

In that moment, he found himself locking eyes on Nydia who stood watching from afar rubbing at her collared neck. Everything was on rewind for him. He heard a demon approach him trying to stop him from what he knew he needed to do.

“What are you going to do, boy?” echoed behind him then he snapped.

His burnished rich skin sparked with his Mystic power and he called on the power of his ancestors and past lives to help him in this moment. The flip of his scythe had the sound of a demon's head rolling next to his feet. The image of the Cursed King lifting an Elder in the air and ripping him in two to throw the pieces toward Khamun made Calvin go off the deep end.

Boots crunched over pebble, broken glass, and stone. His fisted hands stayed near his side. He blocked Sanna from being hit by the Dark Lady. Nydia rushed to his side but he saw nothing but red as her blows came his way.

He focused on the Dark Lady and his arm lifted in the air to block Nydia's hits. In an erect stance, he twisted his arm up and down, dropping into a low crouch to duck under Nydia's kicks then slash of her razor tail. He heard her in his mind screaming for him to stop, to stay back, to not do what was blazing in his eyes. But all he could hear was the drums of his ancestors and the need to protect those he loved.

A whirling sound of Nydia's blade almost connecting against his chest made him step back then send a punch into her solar plexus.
“Step off, Nydia!”

He saw her out the corner of her eye. She held her waist then chest, tears spilling down her eyes, pleading in his mind,
“Please, she'll kill you.”

“I'm prepared for whatever, cher.”
Love was his guidance, and the pain Nydia washed over him was almost hindering, but he pushed on.

Chanting, he called on a Mystic cage to hold Nydia back. He stepped to the Dark Princess who sat half covered in a loose bricks. Insanity in her eyes had Calvin standing his ground, keeping Sanna behind him. The pleas from Sanna's own voice couldn't stop him from what he knew he had to do. The fact that she shot charges at the Cursed King, then even at Reina made him proud in this moment.

The soft tug at his shoulder from Sanna had him quickly turn to hold her back, staring into her pleading eyes. “You are the Oracle, you are needed here. I'm not. Let me protect you, baby girl. This is what family does.”

His cousin's tears fell like rain, which made him hold her tight one last time, before facing the enemy. Calvin watched the Dark Lady push herself up from the ground in a supernatural force to pull out her blade to go head to head with him. She jumped over his head in a quick leap to fall behind him land a hard blow into his back. He quickly sideswiped her by hitting her with a roundhouse kick, followed with a jolt of Mystic light.

His blow caused her to drop into a low crouch, pulling out twin blades in both hands. He saw that they were carved into the same asp that wrapped around her hands. Her fangs glinted in the light. Angling his body for the fight, he swore he saw a hint of white wings peeking from her cloak before she plunged both hands forward to slice into him.

The adrenaline boost Sanna had given him with just a touch kept Calvin going, not noticing that blood was saturating his stomach. He let his elbow connect to the side of her face. He heard Nydia screaming behind him. A slight lightheadedness made him stumble slightly, but he ignored it to land another hit to the Dark Lady's face.

“Hey, wodie, you think you're a bad bitch, but watch this.” Calvin stepped forward to overtake her space.

A sharp pain at his side caused him to hold his stomach. He quickly realized that he must have been hit, so he used a Mystic spell to hold himself together to continue his fight. He reached behind him then pulled out his twin scythes to slash at Reina, cutting her arms. Sending her flying backward into a wall, that exertion of his power had him spent. Sweat fell down his face. The cage that held Nydia up gradually weakened. He needed to get to his Qua gum, but his world was suddenly tilting.

He felt himself stumble backward. Felt the warm feel of liquid leaking from his side, due to his continued blood loss. The holding spells weren't lasting and he was slowly deteriorating.

Shit, he was only human, in a sense,
wisped in his mind.

His hand reached behind him to brace himself, leaving behind a bloody handprint on the tunnel wall near him.

The sound of a gun made Calvin glance to where Reina had fell. He watched her push back up pointing a silencer his way. “Looks like I am a bad bitch, homie.”

A scream propelled him backward; light pooled over his body. As he fell to the floor, he saw the quick flash of the Medusa running in front of him. His heart suddenly sparked with his power and he threw it her way in the form of a Mystic cloak to protect her as the bullet hit his chest. The cries from his sister in his Bluetooth made his soul weep. He could feel and hear the roars from his brothers, as well as warriors who were aligned to his house. He had met his destiny in one shot.

In his arms flew Nydia. She jettisoned in front of him, trying to block him from the hits, slashing at charging demons. Her nails became blades. She was the Jaguar princess he remembered in their shared past, Fatima. He watched her take down two burly males with glowing black eyes, ripping then shredding them like meat. Nydia quickly turned to lock eyes on Reina and she frantically held her hands out. More bullets rained from behind Nydia toward the Oracle and in front of Nydia as she turned to cover him.

The sound of bullets hitting his flesh echoed into the tunnel while another train went by.

Ding. Ding. Bam!

“Calvin!” he heard her scream.

He saw the confused look on the Dark Lady's face while that bullet took him down. He didn't realize that Nydia too had been hit until he felt her heated body cool.

“Nydia!” he roared, choking on his own blood. Pain tore through him. Her blood mingling with his own made his nostrils flare in agony.

Her quiet voice softly ebbed against his ear. “We've loved each other before our love was darkened and torn from each other. I saw you die many times, and mourn me in every life. This time, it's my turn to do something for us. I'd rather be the one; there's no saving me, but, please, let the Reaper destroy whatever is left. Please don't let me die with a chance of being reborn back on their side.”

As the bell chimed, he couldn't say anymore. Blood clouded his throat then spilled from the corner of his mouth. His eyes glazed over and he glanced at the ceiling mouthing Nydia's true name one last time before turning his head to take one last look at his cousin and his family.

The taste of blood was in his mouth. He could smell the burning singe of Witch fire eating at his pants and shirt making him quickly pat them to put out the fire. His ears were ringing from the force and his eyes were slightly blurry from leaving a crater into a nearby wall. Bitch had come up on his blind side. Khamun spit out grit from the dust and residue of crumbled rock that made it into his mouth. War was here and it was wreaking havoc on the Nephilim community that protected the council hall.

“Khamun! Can you hear me? I can't link because you're too far away,”
sounded in his Bluetooth. A searing burning from the dust around him ate at his lungs.
“Khamun!”

A rock lay on his stomach, holding him down. The weight of the world was compounding him. His mind was ticking going over everything in slow replay. The Cursed King was succeeding.

He had wiped out a large number of Nephilim who were here for the general council meeting. Several High Elders were strung across pillars, hanging as if decorative pieces of artwork. His father and Dr. Eammon were going head to head with the Cursed King, holding him off. They worked at draining him of his energy as best as they could without the help of any Nephilim teams. He was impressed. Now it was up to him, Sanna, and their House to finish this thing.

The sound of ringing made his mind focus on Calvin. His boy was on his last leg. He could feel it and he was working with the enemy and taking down massive demons that seemed to be drawn to him. Khmaun could taste Sanna's fear immediately and it fueled him to fight harder.
Our kind is not born with fear, baby.

With a grunt, Khamun sunk his nails into the gravel under him and pushed up.
“Yeah, I'm here and I'm good. Just was winded by Winter. Lenox, handle that. I don't have time to be distracted by her bullshit.”

“I'm already on it, man. Over and out,”
Lenox quickly responded.

The sound of metal making contact with each other had Khamun turning to see where the fight was originating. Teams of Nephilim, men and women, Houses of fighters who stood behind him and his own House were going head to head. The sound of grenades shaking the great hall, automatic guns, swords, and other weapons made Khamun feel as if he were in WWII and 'Nam. That brought his mind back to Calvin.

“Hey, Cal. Where you at?”
Khamun tapped his Bluetooth and stood up. A hand from a fellow Nephilim royal helped him crawl out of the hole he lay in.

Time was of the essence. He quickly thanked the gruff buzz-cut brown haired guy who was covered in demon blood and gave him dap. The guy sported a rugged beard. His almost-violet eyes gleamed with power and the fangs he sported made Khamun nod in utmost respect. He was a warrior-class angel like himself but the scales that ran over his shoulders marked him Gargoyle as well and that blew Khamun away because he never heard of a Gargoyle and non-Gargoyles actually mating. Yes, they may fall in love but it was usually short-lived, never producing offspring, he was told as a child. From the male's tags on his fatigues, he could read that he was from the Atlanta house. A rogue team who had just recently came up to seek an alliance with his House.

“Thanks, man, much respect,” Khamun quickly replied moving to a darker area of the room he now was in.

“Not a problem, brother. Watch your back. We have you covered above, below and around you,” two bandaged, glove-covered fingers lifted in the air signaling where his team members were flanked.

Taking in the intel, Khamun rushed out the crumbling tunnel. Gunshots rang in Khaumun's ears.
“Just checking, man. Make sure you keep your back flanked, a'ight? Hello? Calvin? Bro! Hello?”

A whizzing of bullets zipped past him. The slight sparking of the land's grid let him know Kali had handled her business. However, the fact that Calvin wasn't answering him was pushing on his nerves. He stood facing the devil's chosen leader, his uncle Caius. His father and future father-in-law both were under a wall of bricks due to being thrown there by the King. However, now, the feeling that his brother-in-arms had just possibly been hurt had Khamun shifting back and forth.

Kali's voice chimed in. He connected with her quickly and could see her sitting around monitors with Amara, Dare, Take, and Miya around her. Amit was running back and forth, jetting out of the control room, and coming back covered in black-red blood. Gray charges of light sparked from his forearm and fist, something Khamun wasn't expecting.

“We keep getting blasted by demons,”
Kali quickly replied.
“Amit, Take, and Dare have us covered. We are on our way down. Something happened to Calvin, Khamun. Something happened.”

“I feel it too, little sis, I'm trying to get to him but
. . .
”

“I know. Keep prayers up. I'm out; watch your back please,”
Kali's desolately requested. Her voice was choked with tears. Khamun knew whatever it was that happened with Calvin was life changing.

Khamun quickly took to the air, taking down demons with a glance from his eyes. He fed quick and discharged what he could. Demons ran from his touch whenever he was near. His fangs ripped into the flesh of many. Their essence filled his mouth, but a reprieve that they would not get and a lifelong punishing prison trapped in the body many of his enemies had taken over was his judgment.

The sound of the Cursed King's reverberating voice echoed from under the rumble of the tunnel. “Your Oracle is saucy, I give you all that. Once I have her, I intend to teach her exactly how a woman should behave when her man is fighting,
¿comprende?
”

I'll kill you first,
ran through Khamun's eyes.

If he thought that Khamun would allow him the satisfaction of the day to get near San, then the fucker was shitting gold. Khamun's eyes flashed dark as oil in that moment. There was no chance that was going down. None. Not in any lifetime. Moving as fast as he could, he froze as words hit his peripheral. The knowledge of his past lives, and the lives of all Nephilim, contained in the book he had only just found, slammed into him hard. Voices echoed around him.

“Understand and use the knowledge. King is yours to take down, not mine. Be strong, son,”
his father encouraged.

His skull throbbed, almost ripping in half and he saw Sanna's face within that moment smiling at him. He understood her pain in that moment. He had to kick-start the awakening again. He had to charge the books.

Determinedly glancing around, he remembered the mural in his home. It had pointed him to a flaming sword, one that was in the arms of the statue before him. He had never noticed it here, sequestered in this quiet hall, but today was not time for questions. Sprinting forward, he lifted in the air, his wings allowing him to fly up in an arch, back to the council room.

A statue stared him right in the face, staring at him in authority. Its black marble arm held sword out to him, which Khamun respectfully took. The Archangel Uriel appeared to kneel before him. His white robes turned black and Khamun saw his beating heart spilt into many sections. Sections that burned brightest in a vibrant color matched his aura. He also saw the silhouette of a woman with wings that matched Khamun's. She felt familiar and her face blazed before in awareness then the body of Uriel merged into hers before disappearing. The creator of the Sin Eaters.

He was blown away. Taking the sword, he felt his power blaze bright then light aflame. The council hall seemed to vibrate with his power and he heard Sanna's roar in his mind. She was ablaze and he could see it without even seeing her. She shouted her command to him, which ticked him off. He had other plans for his uncle, but now he was being told something else. He had a choice to make.

The chaotic power from the Cursed King quickly shunted out the resonance he had kick-started. Darkness crept over the council hall, eating at the remaining light that fought against it. The groaning sounds of what he could decipher as trapped souls reached out to him in pained, devoid suffering. Everywhere he moved was as if Khamun had triggered a live mine. His wings pressed against him to shield him from falling bodies, blood, organs, and debris.

Ryo's voice tapped his mind. He glanced up and saw the Dragon bulked into his true dragon form. He held a hybrid of a man and a demon by the throat walking him backward. His diamond-hard nails shredded at the monster's face peeling it off before dropping his head to rip its throat out with his own mouth. Ryo's tattoos seemed to swirl lifting with words Khamun couldn't unlock. Yet, while he dropped the demon and pointed his Glock at other entities in the reaching dark, rounds sounded around them both and he held his arm out, holding a blade in his free hand.

Ryo chucked his head back to usher Khamun on.
“I don't know what you did, dude, but I'm amped. But check it, hurry, the King is coming. I have you covered.”

“Thank you, bro,”
he quickly yelled. Entering the tunnel, Khamun stopped. Calvin stood near a floating Sanna. His brother was translucent but solid as rock. Khamun knew Calvin was no more, but even beyond the grave Cal was going to fight for his family. Calvin kept San behind him and away from the King. A smile played across his brother's face the moment his twin scythes flipped back and forth.

“So you want my fam, huh? Gotta go through me, patna, before I let that one happen because this right here is divine; you can't touch her,” Calvin taunted. Mystic magic flowed from his fingers. Statues that adorned the secret tunnels came alive to rush the approaching Cursed King in a running tackle to hold him down to the ground.

Khamun moved fast holding his blazing sword. Face to face with his uncle, his blade almost made contact with the Cursed King, but was immediately halted by a dark current blast from the King, sending him falling into a heap.

Marble broke and cracked.

The Cursed King roared and lifted from the ground in full demonic Fallen form. His menacing wings systematically broke down statues that continued to reach out for him. Other of his Cursed kind came forward and helped battle those statues that still clamored to trap the King.

“Don't even think that I would allow you all to take me down so easily. The blade of Uriel can't touch me, pup!” his uncle hissed.

The Cursed King rested in a one-kneed crouch surrounded by demons. He glared at Khamun with blood-red eyes. Wiping at his mouth, his uncle disinterestedly brushed off his jacket then spoke. “Maldita Sea. Blasted! You're like a roach. Give me what is mine! Your Society is now extinct, thanks to me, accept it, and hand me the Oracle, boy!”

In that moment, Ryo landed hits against the jaded King. Blade fighting sticks appeared in the Dragon's hands. He leaped in the air to slam them into the King's shoulders, penetrating his shoulder blades. Blood flew in the air, splattering like paint against the walls. The King roared pissed but also distracted.

Khamun's eyes glanced at Sanna. She no longer was floating but standing near Kyo, both women watching with blades in their hands. Sanna's beauty, even in this moment, fed him and reminded him of his purpose to protect his family. Sweat ran into his eyes, making him wipe it away with the back of his hand then push his spilling locks back. He flipped his wrist to turn the flaming blade in his hand. His other hand rested on the Glock that held the blessed bullets within their chamber.

“Miss me with that crap, Uncle! You know what I want? I want to peel your flesh from your body and crack your chest open, that's what I want,” Khamun crooned.

The clang of his spinal blade with its serrated edges hitting the Cursed King's own red-tinged sword drew everyone's eyes their way. Sweat rained down his massive body. Khamun's arms strained from the weight of the Cursed King's blows making him clenched his jaw in his adrenaline rush.

His forearm made contact with Khamun's face. The blow as like a pile of bricks had fallen onto him and he found himself on his back. Pain reared his head and the Cursed King's blade made contact with his shoulder going clean through and connecting to the floor. Caius held a finger up, wagging it in his face as he looked down at him.

Kneeling down to grip on to Khamun's locks, the Cursed King forced his face toward Sanna before growling low then pointing her way. “Mira, wait right there. I want you watch this, nephew.”

Sanna lifted in the air and flew toward him. Her eyes widened and she screamed. However, it was a second scream that made him smile. Her beautiful
kila
blade rang in the air then made contact with the King's broad chest. Black oily blood coated them both. His uncle's grip loosened causing Sanna to fall backward to her knees. Khaumn proudly watched her scramble up and move to the side.

Khamun knew he had to use this open window fast. Fisting his hand around the blade in his own shoulder, he pulled hard. A roar ripped from his mouth and he turned to the side to see the King standing back up again, Sanna's blade now at his feet, Khamun hustled placing a healing spell, created by Calvin, over his wound cauterizing it. Blood pooled around his hands. He remembered the spells and history he had learned in his books. Spelling out different runes, he clapped his hand against the floor underneath him and he went flying in the air ramming the Cursed King backward.

Khamun surged his fist forward. The back of it made contact with the evil King's face. As he felt the force of the punch against his uncle's face, Khamun was shocked at how much Marco didn't look like the King. They shared the same eyes and jaw line as well as the same cinnamon skin, but the rest reflected the appearance of the woman in his dreams: his aunt. Something within caused Khamun to glance around, noticing the bodies of both Calvin and the Medusa. Strangely, Calvin's spirit still cloaked Sanna helping Kyo fight off demons that came Sanna's way.