“Be right there,” the vampire said.
“Great. Oh, and Adam? Bring the sword.” I hung up without saying anything else, knowing he’d done the same. I hurried across the train tracks and toward Fraser River, where there was more tree cover. Once I arrived, I spun to face the oncoming flock, chanting their names under my breath. “Laurelis. Collith. Lyari.”
They arrived one by one, seconds apart. First, Collith. Then, Laurie. And last, Lyari.
She looked to the sky and immediately unsheathed her sword. The shimmering transparency of the blade was like glass. Whatever they were made of, though, didn’t shatter—it cut. Collith and Laurie also held swords. They, too, were focused on the horizon now.
“Trouble seems to follow wherever you go,” a familiar voice drawled.
“Nice to see you too, Gil.” I accepted my sword from him, reacquainting myself with its weight. It still needed a name, but I didn’t have a single idea. Maybe Gil would. “Hey,” I started.
Between one breath and the next, Adam appeared, too, and a startled twitch went through me. The vampire squinted at the horizon, noting the cherubim. He was so pale that his skin looked chalky. His stubble was like dark sand along his pronounced jawline. He wore a leather jacket, torn jeans, and thick boots. Somehow, though, it didn’t seem strange that Adam also held a sword.
How had they all known?
“Remember what I taught you last time we saw each other?” Adam asked without looking away from the monsters.
He’d told me to utilize everything in the environment. I shifted my position and stood with the sun behind me, which would effectively blind my opponent in a fight.
A moment later, the first one landed right in front of me, sending a fingernails-down-chalkboard screech into the crisp air.
I didn’t give it a chance to go on the offensive—I whirled and brought my sword arching for its neck, the sharp edge singing through the frost-filled air. The eagle’s head lopped off like a knife through a cabbage. Blood sprayed, and I turned my attention to its other heads. Why were there so many?
The rest of the flock landed.
I could hear my companions fighting around me. True to form, Laurie was calling out taunts, sifting in and out of sight and cutting off a limb or a head every time he reappeared. Collith was sending bursts of lightning through a cherubim’s multiple chests, one after the other. Bird. Lion. Man. Lyari was a blur of motion, swinging and swiping her sword with such swift grace that it looked like a strange dance.
Too late, I noticed the enormous wing coming at me. I parried an attack coming from the right, swinging my arm across my body, but this put me on the defensive. Sloppy.
“You’re thinking too much,” Adam barked, making me falter.
He was right—I was using memories instead of instinct, and it was slowing me down. Hours and hours we’d spent in that garage that smelled of oil and concrete, going through the same movements, the same exercises again and again. Until they’d become part of me, as much as any thoughtless gesture or absent action, like brushing hair out of my face or standing up.
I just had to trust myself enough to let go. Relinquish the fear and control and shame.
A bead of sweat ran down my temple. I raised my sword and, at the same time, delivered a hard kick to the creature’s midsection. As it staggered, I rushed forward and brought my blade down, instinctively bracing myself to absorb the impact of the blow.
It was exactly what Adam had been trying to teach me. Once I gave in to my body’s impulses, I found a rhythm in them. It was easy after that. I lost myself to the battle, the singing sword in my hand, the great roar in my ears.
I wasn’t sure when it started. But gradually, I became aware that with every slice, I was saying a name. Everyone that Belanor had harmed during his brief, terrible reign. “Laurie. Finn. Gil.”
There came a point when there were no more enemies to cut down. Blood, cold and sticky, clung to my skin in streaks and splatters. I turned in a circle, still holding my sword at the ready. Almost daring another beast to come at me.
“Are you done?” someone called.
I looked up. Laurie was leaning against one of the trees, his arms crossed, his head tilted. Breathing hard, I glanced around me. Collith and Lyari were gone. Adam, who hadn’t even broken a sweat, knelt in the snow and cleaned the blood and gore off his blade. Gil was poking one of the dead cherubim.
We were surrounded by body parts and corpses.
When I saw that, I wanted to kick myself. We couldn’t leave them here, and I no longer had the resources of the Unseelie Court. Swallowing a sigh, I reluctantly turned to face Laurie. “I don’t suppose you could work some of your magic here?”
His eyes gleamed. “We might be able to work something out.”
His tone invoked flashes of firelit memories. My cheeks heated. I started to look around, wondering if the others had observed our interaction, but then I noticed the bodies again. My flare of desire faded.
Adam’s voice rumbled into the stillness. “We’re heading back to the shop. Want me to take the sword?”
I looked up, already knowing that Gil would be next to him. I started to nod and hand off the weapon he’d made me, but then I hesitated. My fingers curled around the hilt. “No,” I said. “Actually, I think I’ll hold onto it. Thanks, Adam.”
He nodded and moved off, but Gil lingered. When our eyes met he said, “You have an… interesting fighting style. I can confidently say I’ve never seen someone using Taekwondo while swinging a medieval sword.”
“It’s not medieval,” I said, holding the blade aloft. The gesture drew my attention to the black blood coating its silvery surface. “Adam made this for me.”
“He’s the one who taught you all that?” Gil glanced at one of the dead cherubim with raised brows.
“No, not all of it. My dad started training me when I was five years old.”
“Jesus,” he muttered. “No wonder you’re such a downer. What kind of man teaches his kid how to do that when they’re barely out of nappies?”
I felt my eyes narrow. “You were a Nightmare. You know why better than anyone,” I answered, my voice low with meaning.
There was a reason I’d thought Nightmares were on the verge of extinction—when we weren’t being taken and tortured by Belanor, we were hunted for our hearts.
Like a kill switch, the thought flipped something in my head and I was blinded by a flash of memory.
This was one event from the past that I hadn’t hidden in the wilds of my mind. Most of the day was still vivid, in fact, even if Dad’s face wasn’t.
We’d gone for a hike through Castlewood Canyon. Dad had found a spot in the sun, atop a flat rock. I could still remember the taste of peanut butter in my mouth as he started talking. He told me about the world we lived in. He warned me about the people who would take what they wanted, instead of asking for permission. He spoke of the greed that lived in their hearts.
The demon at the crossroads may have shattered my innocence, but there had already been a crack in it when the creature came out of the dark that night. Put there by my very own father.
I’d never hated him for it, though. Childhood was a luxury Nightmares couldn’t afford.
Most Nightmares, anyway. Judging from the expression on Gil’s face, he hadn’t experienced the same sort of upbringing.