Reap the Shadows (Steel & Stone Book 4)

  Piper eyed the group. The majority of the Gaians she’d met before had been regular people with minimal combat skills. She’d briefly encountered some better trained men when she’d tried to escape her imprisonment in Fairglen, but she hadn’t considered how many of those more advanced combatants there might be.

  These men were clearly cut from a completely different cloth than Travis and the other Gaians; they moved like soldiers. And their equipment—where the hell had the Gaians gotten those jeeps, those weapons? They might have had some support from wealthy humans who didn’t like daemons, but military-grade weapons weren’t exactly widely available. Humans barely had militaries anymore, not since the war seventy years ago.

  The thirty-or-so Gaians advanced into the intersection, picking up the pace as the light improved. Piper gave Kiev a thumbs-up.

  His silhouette drew back an arm and threw a small object down the eastern avenue. It hit the ground with a loud clatter and the spell he’d embedded in it activated. An illusion of shadowy figures appeared in the darkness, darting around incomprehensibly, their shapes unclear. The Gaians immediately halted. One of them yelled for the “people” to freeze. The illusion continued, giving the impression of a dozen strange men—or creatures—flashing around like a pack of wolves preparing to attack. Piper held her breath, waiting for them to change direction and investigate the illusion.

  The Gaians’ leader gave some sort of complex hand signal. One of the jeeps rolled to the front of the group and the two men readied one of the large guns mounted on the back. Underneath the streetlamp, the gun appeared to have multiple wide barrels. The leader called a final warning to the shadowy figures, then slashed his hand down.

  The weapon fired in a burst of smoke and fire. The rocket hit the wall of a building beside Kiev’s shadowy illusions, exploding in a deluge of stone and brick. Piper flinched away from the sound, eyes wide at the gaping hole in the building.

  Kindra grabbed her arm and pointed. Amidst the rubble, two dozen spots of light glowed like cherry-red lumps of coal. A second later, they detonated. Swirling blades of scarlet magic whipped out from each spot like writhing tentacles, slicing through everything they touched before fading away.

  A moment later, everything was still and silent.

  Piper gaped, her mouth dry and her heart pounding. Lethal magic married to traditional military weapons. It was terrifying. Her original plan had been to harmlessly sidetrack the Gaians away from the Styx. But those weapons. Those were for killing. For all her mother’s talk about only wanting to expel daemons, not exterminate them, it sure looked like extermination was part of the plan. She couldn’t let the Gaians continue on with weapons like that. Her plan needed to change.

  Kiev’s illusion was gone and the Gaians were advancing toward the spot. When they didn’t find any bodies, they would become suspicious. Licking her lips, she took one more look at the jeeps with their rocket launchers. How much ammo did they have? Were there other spells besides the one she’d witnessed? She couldn’t chance it. Those jeeps could go no further.

  “Wait here,” Piper said to Kindra. “I’ll be right back.”

  “What?” Kindra asked blankly, turning as Piper slid backward from the edge of the building.

  “Just wait!” Piper crawled away until she was far enough from the ledge to be out of the Gaians’ view. She rose to a low crouch and ran awkwardly for the fire escape on the other side. Clambering down the rusty steps to the level below, she pushed open the splintered wooden door. As she rushed inside, she almost fell through a gaping hole in the floor where the floorboards had rotted away. She darted for the window on the opposite side, where the light from the streetlamp gleamed. She slowed as she approached and cautiously peered out.

  The Gaians were already level with her position, about to pass it. She needed to act fast.

  She lifted her left arm and clenched her hand. Against her inner wrist, she could feel the cool weight of the Sahar. As much as she liked Kindra, she didn’t—couldn’t—trust the daemon with the knowledge that she had the Stone. No one could know. If it got out that she had it, the power-hungry daemons in the city would be the least of her problems.

  Closing her eyes, she mentally touched the Sahar. Power leaped into her, crashing through her body like a raging current filled with hatred. She gasped, her eyes flying open. Jaw clenched painfully tight as she fought the violent rage trying to overwhelm her thoughts, she focused on the jeeps, two stories below.

  She raised a fist, drawing the power into a concentrated mass within her, ready to use. Her nerves burned. The magic writhed, trying to break her control. Using magic was a hundred times easier when she was shaded. She extended her fist, locked her eyes on the front jeep, and brought her fist down in a sharp, hammering motion.

  A massive fist of power slammed down on the jeep. The back half with the rocket launcher flattened like a crushed soda can, metal shrieking as it bent and tore, the wheels bending outward and bursting. The soldiers standing on the back flew off, falling to the pavement. She’d tried to contain the force so it only hit the weapon, but she wasn’t sure she’d succeeded.

  Gasping as pain, power, and rage whirled violently through her, she fought to gather her concentration. The Gaians were shouting, their weapons ready, but they didn’t know where the attack had come from. Piper raised her hand and pulled more power from the Sahar. Agony seared her as she gathered the magic in her body. She homed in on the second jeep and brought her fist down again.

  The vehicle crumpled, crushed like a child’s toy. She swallowed a groan as pain rolled through her body. The Sahar’s magic burned. She was losing control. The second blast had been less precise, destroying even more of the jeep.

  She lifted her trembling hand. A mad, babbling voice in her head demanded blood and death. Hatred lapped at her thoughts like a poisonous tide. She gathered magic for the third time, fighting the pain to concentrate. She looked down at the third jeep.

  The weapon was pointed straight at her. The Gaians frantically loaded a rocket into the barrel. With a wild cry, she slammed her fist downward—and at the same moment, the rocket launcher fired.

  The Sahar’s power exploded out of her, crushing the jeep into the ground so hard that the pavement caved in. Then the rocket hit the wall just below her window.

  The wall exploded, blasting her backward. She hit the floor and tumbled roughly, limbs flailing. Her vision dimmed then popped back in on a wave of pain. Shrapnel and debris flew everywhere. She weakly pushed herself up on one elbow, her head spinning and her ears ringing loudly. She couldn’t see. Everything was a blur of dimness and glowing red spots.

  Red spots. The magical second phase of the rocket.

  She shoved to her feet, staggering for balance. The world was spinning. She ran blindly, unable to see properly. Behind her came a burst of intense light and the roar of fire. Not blades this time, but magical flamethrowers. The world turned orange as fire devoured everything around her.

  And then there was no floor beneath her feet and she fell into darkness.

  . . .

  “Piper? Piper?”

  Someone was shaking her.

  Her eyelids fluttered. She blinked slowly and a face came into focus, hovering over her.

  “Kiev?” she croaked.

  His brow was furrowed, pale eyes worried. She blinked again and realized she was lying on her back on a hard surface—the road. Her body ached. She looked from side to side, confused by the dark, unfamiliar buildings.

  “What—what happened?” she asked. Her voice was strangely hoarse, her throat raw.

  “I was going to ask you that,” he said as he slid an arm under her shoulders and helped her sit up. She flinched as the aches and pains multiplied.

  She looked around again, frowning. “Where are we? I remember ... they blew a hole in the wall and I ... fell through the floor.”

  “We’re a couple blocks away,” he said. “You don’t remember anything else?”

  She shoo
k her head.

  He looked almost wary. “After they shot at the building, it caught on fire really fast—magic, I suppose. It collapsed a few minutes later. Kindra and I thought you were inside, but the Gaians were swarming everywhere so we split up to find you. I was flying when I saw you walking down the street. I yelled your name and you stopped and looked up at me. You were ... smiling. Then you just collapsed.”

  She stared at him. “I was walking? But—how did I get out of the building?”

  “I don’t know. You don’t remember at all?”

  “I only remember falling.”

  “Well, you did hit your head,” he said, sounding a bit skeptical. “You were pretty beat up. You had burns and some shrapnel stuck in you and a concussion. I healed the worst of it, but I’m not that great at it.”

  She looked down at herself. Her clothes were charred in places and there was a large, blood-drenched tear in the thigh of her jeans. She touched the spot and felt tender, newly healed skin beneath the layer of drying blood.

  “Thanks, Kiev. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “No problem. So what happened to the jeeps? Did you do that? That was some crazy shit.”

  She pushed her hair out of her face. “What happened to the jeeps? I don’t remember that either.”

  This time she was lying, but she couldn’t trust him to know about the Sahar either. He frowned at her, seeming to weigh something in his mind, then shrugged and rose to his feet.

  He extended a hand. “We should get out of here. The Gaians packed up and went back the way they came about fifteen minutes ago, so mission accomplished, I guess.”

  Flinching from pain, she let him pull her up. He’d healed the cut on her thigh and the bad burns—thank goodness for her dragon scale clothing, which showed no signs of damage—but he hadn’t done a thing about the smaller cuts and bruises. Not that she blamed him. Healing was exhausting work, or so she’d heard.

  Once he was sure she was steady, he strode away down the street, leaving her to follow. She hurried after him, biting her inner cheeks. He knew she’d lied about the jeeps, but he wasn’t pushing it. She felt equally appreciative and guilty. Her hand clenched as she concentrated on the cool weight of the Sahar against her wrist. Something had changed with the Sahar, but she wasn’t sure what. Just like the last time she’d used it—in the Overworld while battling the griffins—it hadn’t seemed quite as poisonous to her mind. The violent sadism and madness hadn’t been as overwhelming, but she didn’t understand why. Maybe being shaded offered a layer of insulation.

  She limped after Kiev, feeling every ache and bruise. Her head pounded with each step. She touched her forehead, finding the tender spot he had mostly healed. At least it hadn’t bled. She must have landed hard when she fell through that damn hole in the floor, though the hole had probably saved her from being burned to death.

  Why didn’t she remember anything after that? She’d been stunned by the explosion, that was for sure. Maybe she’d lost consciousness, then woken up and walked out of the building in a daze? That must have been one hell of a concussion.

  Giving her achy head a little shake, she quickened her steps to keep up with Kiev. She hoped he wasn’t too offended by her secrecy, but even more than that, she hoped he wouldn’t manage to guess how the jeeps had been destroyed with more magic than a haemon could ever summon.

  . . .

  Piper tried to relax in the passenger seat of the van, elbow propped on the door and chin in her hand. Her head throbbed in time with heartbeat, and pain surged with each bump the vehicle hit.

  Beside her, Calder kept his eyes on the road as he navigated the dark streets and cavernous potholes. Lexa, Drew, and the apprentices filled the backseats, talking amongst themselves. Drew didn’t participate and was instead scowling out the window at the very back. He wasn’t happy about Calder booting him from the driver’s seat. Kindra sat just behind Piper, eyeing Randy with displeasure. He kept shooting the daemon glances as he talked loudly to Jerome about his accomplishments as an apprentice.

  Kiev wasn’t with them, preferring to follow on his own. She’d told him where to find the church and expected he would catch up in the next hour or so. She didn’t like the idea of him wandering around on his own when his safety was now her unwilling responsibility, but explaining his presence to everyone else was too much hassle—and potentially dangerous. She didn’t need anyone knowing she was associating with yet another of Samael’s draconians. Kiev could take care of himself; there were few threats to a daemon as powerful as him—even if he was still a kid.

  She sighed. Was he really a kid? He was only a few years younger than her, assuming she was guessing his age correctly, but he’d most certainly lost his childhood innocence early on—if he’d ever had a true childhood. Small mistakes in Asphodel were met with beatings or imprisonment. He’d already been trained in lethal magic and combat. He’d probably already killed people in his young life.

  Letting her eyes slide closed, she allowed thoughts of Ash to enter her mind. Over the past ten days, she’d trained herself not to think of him, but every once in a while, she had to give in. Had his childhood been like Kiev’s? Had he been going on missions for Samael since he was a teenager? How young had he been when he’d first killed?

  She considered the differences between her and the other apprentices. Her experiences set her apart from them; she felt so much older even though in years, she wasn’t. Did Ash feel the same way about her? Did she seem like a child to him in her innocence? Though that innocence was quickly disappearing, she could only imagine the kind of experiences he’d had.

  A deep ache rose in her chest as her mind filled with the image of him as she’d last seen him, deep in the healing sleep in the ryujin’s city. So peaceful. So safe. But not for long. She knew him. As soon as he was healthy enough, he would throw himself back into the fray, but he wouldn’t be jumping into any fights of hers if she had any say; she would be saving her own skin from now on.

  “So,” Calder said quietly, his voice merging with the deep rumble of the car’s engine. “Why don’t you tell me about that display of magic at the Styx?”

  “Oh,” she mumbled. “Yeah, that.”

  “Yes, that.”

  They’d already discussed her encounter with the Gaians, the details of which she’d glossed over as much as possible. She didn’t think he was buying it, not with the charred state of her clothes.

  She sighed, glancing back at the others. They were involved in their own conversations and weren’t paying attention to hers.

  “The magic is Mom’s fault,” she said in a low voice.

  He cast her a questioning look.

  “She and the other Gaian leaders wanted me to join them. They thought I could be some kind of super powerful hybrid mascot for them, so they had this crazy old lady break the seal on my magic.”

  “Your mother did this?”

  Piper nodded.

  “Didn’t she realize it might kill you? Why didn’t it?”

  “Yes ... she knew it was risky.” She settled back in her seat, watching the buildings roll by. “The headaches started immediately and we went to the Overworld in search of answers.”

  She glanced back at Kindra, who was close enough to hear as she did her best to ignore Randy’s boasting. “I had to learn how to handle my two brands of magic, but now that I can do that, my magic isn’t a danger to me.”

  Calder noted her glance at the other passengers and merely nodded in relief, not pressing for details.

  Her magic was easy to handle now; she could keep the two brands of power separated with almost no thought at all. She let out a long breath, thinking about the differences between her magic and the Sahar. The Sahar’s power felt completely different. Hers obeyed her every thought. The Sahar’s had a mind of its own—Natania’s will, she suspected.

  Putting that out of her mind, she looked back at her uncle. “Have you seen the Gaians’ weapons?”

  “Which ones? They seem to have
a new one every day.”

  “The rocket launchers with a second-phase spell attack.”

  “Ah yes. Those.”

  “Where did they get them?”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “We’re not sure.”

  “I spent several days with a huge group of Gaians and didn’t see any signs of these weapons—or these militarized Gaians. Where did they come from?”

  His brow furrowed. “Hasn’t Quinn told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  He gave his head a little shake and sighed. “Your father and I have been investigating the Gaians for a decade. There are two—two sects, if you will. The Gaians you met are the outer circle: new members who ascribe to the Gaians’ public philosophy of separation between humans and daemons, and so on. These recent recruits are a completely different breed from the original Gaians.

  “The core of their group is composed of former soldiers from the war. After the daemons forced peace on everyone, governments downsized their militaries and thousands of men and women were suddenly jobless in a ruined world. At the same time, daemons were making themselves comfortable here. Those ex-soldiers consolidated into their own organization for the purpose of ridding our planet of the ‘parasites.’

  “Many of those original soldiers have since passed away, but they instilled their militarist discipline and radical zeal in the next generation. The Gaian Corps, as we’ve dubbed them, intend to kill every daemon and daemon supporter they can find until the daemons leave for good.”

  Piper pressed her hands against her knees. In her mind, she examined the face of every Gaian leader she’d met. Were any of them part of the Gaian Corps? Or were they, her mother included, just puppets? There was no way to know.

  “That explains where all these haemon soldiers came from,” she said slowly. “But it doesn’t explain where they got magical weapons.”

  “No one we’ve talked to has a clue,” he admitted. “The new Consul Board of Directors doesn’t know, nor do the prefects.”

  “Damn it,” she muttered. “You realize this is all pointless, right? We can send all the daemons out of the city, but if the Gaian Corps’ goal is to exterminate daemons, avoiding conflict won’t fix anything in the long run.”