Page 16 of A City of Lies


  The scouts were out there, on their way to the city. My stomach churned, as I kept thinking about Caia and the others, trying to do some good for creatures who only deserved to get their heads chopped off.

  With each minute that went by, my objective became clearer. I had to find the swamp witch. All our troubles would end once we got hold of her—the last of her kind, and the key to not only our freedom, but also to ending this war and saving whatever was left of the Imen species.

  I had a bone to pick with both the daemons and the Maras, and I knew my turn would come to cut them down, one by one, and deprive them of the privilege of living.

  My palms were starting to itch, the rage dull and permanent in the pit of my stomach.

  Stay there. I’ll need you for later.

  Avril

  (Daughter of Lucas & Marion)

  There were two other doors at the back of the infirmary, leading into the other care rooms. Heron and I snuck around the corner, taking advantage of the dark as we waited for the nurses to leave the one room that had its lights on. I’d caught the scent of Imen in there.

  “I can hear their hearts beating,” Heron whispered, his face dangerously close to mine.

  I took a deep breath, trying my best not to look at him. I could feel the tension between us, and I yearned to just wrap my arms around him whenever he got near me. My gaze was fixed on the one door we needed to see open.

  “The Imen, you mean,” I breathed.

  “Mm-hm.” He inched closer, making my spine tingle as his breath tickled my ear.

  “Have you ever heard of personal space?” I muttered, mostly angry at my inability to control my reactions with him.

  “What’s that?”

  I wasn’t sure whether he was serious or joking, as his tone was flat, and I really didn’t want to turn my head to look at him, afraid I’d lose my thoughts in those big jade eyes of his.

  “It’s an invisible area around a person, and it’s best not to invade it without a good reason,” I whispered, hoping I’d managed to at least conceal my frustration.

  “And?”

  He’s toying with me.

  “And you’re in it. In mine, I mean,” I replied.

  “Does it bother you?”

  “Are you freaki—” My head turned without me even realizing it, and I instantly regretted it, as I was met with a pair of green eyes that seemed to look right into my soul. My breath hitched, and I swallowed my words. We stood like that for a while, until his gaze dropped to my lips and heat expanded through my body, like I’d suddenly turned into an active volcano and was about to erupt.

  A door creaked open, and we both looked back at the infirmary. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing I’d been seconds away from doing the unthinkable and pressing my lips against his. Fortunately—or not—two Mara nurses came out, then went around the building, probably headed toward the stairs leading up to the next level.

  “Coast is clear,” I murmured, and left our hiding place.

  I moved along the wall, then turned the knob and opened the door. We slipped inside, where two Imen lay in their beds. They were both males, in their late thirties. Their faces were pale, their eyes sunken, and their lips almost purple. According to Heron, they were still alive, but they didn’t really look it.

  “These two look like hell,” Heron muttered as he moved closer to one of them, scanning him from head to toe.

  “The slumber before death, I guess.” I shrugged, and moved around the beds to check on the other Iman, the one we’d seen collapse earlier outside Marion’s perfume shop. I nudged him gently, and he moaned in response, but didn’t wake up.

  I glanced up to see Heron shaking the other Iman in his bed.

  “What in the world?” I exclaimed, scowling at Heron, who gave me a most innocent look.

  “What?” he asked.

  “He’s not a ragdoll! You can’t just shake him like that!” I couldn’t believe I had to explain that, my hands resting on my hips.

  “He’s not responsive.”

  “Clearly, otherwise he would’ve slapped you by now,” I muttered, then froze, my eyes wide open. A relatively familiar scent was in the vicinity, and getting closer. “Crap, the nurses!”

  I looked around and noticed a wooden screen in the corner of the room. Grabbing Heron’s arm, I rushed behind it, and held my breath as the door opened. In walked one of the nurses who had treated Patrik. I could see her face through one of the tiny holes on the edge of the screen. No wonder the scent was familiar—it was a mixture of wildflowers and honey, and it was definitely her fragrance. My nose never lied.

  We watched quietly as she walked over to the first Iman’s bed, briefly glancing over her shoulder at the closed door. She pursed her lips, raised a dissatisfied eyebrow, then looked at the unconscious Iman.

  She bent over, bringing her face close to his neck. My heart stopped when she removed a scalpel from a nearby drawer and made a small incision behind the Iman’s ear, muttering something under her breath.

  “I can’t believe I’m reduced to leftovers from the rich bastards upstairs,” she grumbled, then parted her lips. Little wisps of white light came out from the Iman’s open wound and slipped into her mouth.

  Caia and Fiona had described the eating of souls to us before.

  Oh my. The nurse was eating an Iman’s soul. The Mara was consuming a soul. What the—

  I didn’t even realize I had gasped until I heard myself, and instantly covered my mouth. Heron’s eyes were wide with shock. The nurse’s back snapped straight, and she looked directly at the wooden screen in front of us.

  I heard Heron sigh. Crap. She knew we were here.

  There was no point in hiding. She’d probably noticed our heartbeats by now, already alarmed enough by the gasp to pay attention.

  Heron was the first to step away from the screen, and I followed, glowering at her. She sneered, baring her fangs at us. It was enough to set me off.

  “Are you serious?” I snapped.

  She came at us fast, but she didn’t stand a chance. I dodged her elongated claws, and Heron whipped his sword out and beheaded her before she could even turn around. Her head rolled on the floor, blood pooling at our feet.

  “She ate his damn soul.” I cursed under my breath, then rushed over to the Iman to check for his pulse. Nothing. I glanced up at Heron and swallowed back tears. It broke my heart to see what was happening to the Imen, as it all came into focus. “He’s dead.”

  Heron’s shoulders dropped, blood still dripping from his sword. “We need to go tell the others. Now.”

  “Heron. They are eating souls.” I had to say it out loud, somehow having trouble processing the information. It didn’t make sense. Why? How? For how long had the Maras been doing this? So many questions flooded my head, I found it difficult to breathe and focus. “The Maras… are eating souls.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” he replied bluntly, much better at keeping his cool than I was.

  “Don’t tell me you saw this coming!”

  He thought about it for a couple of seconds, then shrugged. “The thought did cross my mind, but it sounded too absurd to even be considered as a potential reality.”

  “Well then, what do you think of this?” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Avril, we need to go.” Heron tried to keep me on track.

  The door opened again, and we both froze as six more nurses came in. They all came to a halt when they saw us, the bloody sword in Heron’s hand, and the decapitated Mara by the wooden screen. Their synapses seemed to function well, as they instantly hissed, baring their fangs at us.

  “Seriously?” I groaned, incredibly annoyed as I drew my sword, anger pouring through my veins like liquid fire.

  One of them shut the door. “Like that’ll stop us from getting out of here,” Heron scoffed, glowering at the six Maras.

  “You’re ruining dinner.” One of them grinned.

  My hand gripped the sword to the point where my k
nuckles turned white. Not one of them was walking out of here alive. I was going to make sure of that. One by one, their heads would fall.

  And afterward, I’d get some time to properly experience the shock I’d just had to set aside.

  I shot Heron a brief glance, and he gave me a nod in return.

  “Sorry, but you’re going on a diet as of tonight, ladies,” I replied.

  I dashed forward and left no room for debate.

  Fiona

  (Daughter of Benedict & Yelena)

  Patrik, Scarlett, Blaze, Caia, and I waited outside the infirmary for the Lords to come down for their briefing. Avril and Heron were on the other side, looking in on the sick Imen who had collapsed during the day.

  It was close to eight in the evening. The dark purple sky held its myriads of stars above us, and the first of three moons gave off a warm white glow. Flames flickered in the streetlamps lining the massive terrace overlooking the plains and the distant gorges—the latter still sending shivers down my spine whenever I settled my gaze on their black silhouettes.

  Six Correction Officers waited by the main road that connected the first level and the plains to the rest of Azure Heights. They never made eye contact with us, and barely moved as we watched the Lords come down—Emilian, Rowan, Farrah, and Rewa, along with Vincent.

  After our suspicions of their behavior toward the Imen had been reignited during the day, and after adding the possibility that they might’ve also known about Darius’s betrayal, I had a hard time looking at Vincent with the same kindness I’d mustered before. Distrust ate away at me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation could go south, fast. I’d shared my angst with Patrik, and he’d told me to just stay focused and alert, and watch out for anything suspicious in their behavior.

  Like that’ll be easy with these folks.

  “Good to see you’re back.” Emilian greeted us with a broad smile, looking at Blaze and Caia before he glanced behind us. “Where are Jax and the rest of your team?”

  “They’re out in the western plains,” Caia replied with a polite nod, as the Lords gathered in front of us.

  “Hello, Fiona.” Vincent winked, and I felt my skin crawl. Whatever was nagging me, his open advances weren’t doing anything to remove the tension from my body.

  “What are you doing down here, Vincent?” I replied. “Not meaning to sound disrespectful, but I believe we sent word for just the Lords to attend this briefing.”

  It took him a couple of seconds to respond, his expression unwaveringly positive. “Mother wants me to be more active in these meetings. She’s looking to retire.”

  I shifted my gaze to Rowan, who responded with a dry smile. I’d struck a nerve, for sure. The air between us all was thickening with every minute that went by.

  “What are they doing in the western plains?” Emilian didn’t wish to gloss over Harper and the others’ whereabouts.

  “We did our survey of the daemon city, and decided it would be best if we covered more ground by splitting up,” Caia said, her chin high. “They wanted to reach out to the rebel Imen, and we came back to update our team and your lordships.”

  “What could they possibly want from the rebel Imen?” Farrah scoffed, while Rewa kept her gaze fixed on Blaze—something that Caia totally noticed and did not like, judging by the muscle nervously twitching in her jaw. “They’re food for those wretched daemons. They can barely defend themselves out there!”

  “Jax thought it would be good to talk to them nonetheless,” Caia replied. “They’re much closer to the daemons than you are, geographically speaking. They could shed some light, provide some insights from their encounters with the creatures.”

  “I doubt that, but anyway, tell us about the daemon city.” Farrah smirked.

  “It’s big,” Caia shot back bluntly. “There are more of them than we’d initially thought. Their swamp witch magic is stronger and much more diverse, too. We saw their king.”

  The Lords stilled. I couldn’t tell much from their expressions, though, other than the fact that they were stunned.

  “The king of daemons?” Emilian frowned slightly. Caia nodded in response. “What did he seem like to you?”

  I would’ve gone for ‘What was he like?’. He probably meant exactly that, but the way he formulated his question left room for misunderstanding, and even doubt. There it was again, that claw in my stomach…

  “Big. Menacing. Fearless and determined,” Caia said. “Won’t take no for an answer. Leads his people with an iron fist. Blaze and I were captured for several hours, until Jax, Harper, Hansa, and Caspian helped get us out.”

  She was careful to leave Zane’s name out of it. Good, we can’t risk revealing potential allies and putting them at risk, after all.

  Their eyes were wide with surprise and concern, and Emilian took a step forward. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

  “No, they were going to eat our souls later,” Blaze replied. “According to the king of daemons, we’re quite the delicacy, compared to the Imen.”

  “I just… I don’t understand. I still can’t wrap my head around this whole soul-eating thing. It’s so… ghastly. Why would they do it?” Rowan shook her head slowly, her mouth crooked with disgust.

  “Sustenance. A single soul keeps them sated for days, brimming with strength and energy of unnatural levels. It prolongs their lives, too,” Caia explained. “In the absence of souls, raw meat seems to do the trick, but, you know, they obviously prefer souls. Apparently, it’s exhilarating to feel someone’s life force flowing through you.”

  Farrah, Rowan, and Rewa collectively covered their mouths to stifle their gasps and groans. I couldn’t really blame them. The entire concept made my stomach turn inside out, too. My mind wandered back to Zane for a brief moment, wondering if he took the same pleasure in consuming souls. A shiver ran down my spine, and I looked up at Vincent. His gaze was fiercely attempting to pierce through my very soul, pushing me further to the edge.

  “That’s… That’s horrific,” Rewa mumbled, visibly distraught.

  “So, Lord Kifo is with Miss Hellswan and the rest of your team, then?” Emilian changed the subject.

  “Yes,” came Caia’s reply. “I haven’t gotten to the juiciest part of our visit to the underground, though.”

  “Pray tell, what’s that?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, I can tell you there is one Mara who knows the king of daemons very… very well.”

  The Lords frowned, then looked at each other before they stared at Caia, waiting for her to continue. But she wasn’t done with stringing them along. She carefully observed their expressions, then gave Scarlett and me a brief sideways glance.

  “Go on?” Rewa seemed impatient and somewhat irritated. My guess was that she was no longer bothering to hide her dislike of Caia, given their shared interest in Blaze. It really didn’t take a scientist for either of us to know that our little fire fae and the dragon were getting closer each day, while Rewa’s advances flew right past his ears. There was bound to be some friction, sooner or later.

  “Your father,” Caia said.

  Several seconds passed as Rewa blinked with confusion.

  “My father?”

  “Darius, Lord of House Xunn, is besties with the king of daemons,” Caia replied.

  “That’s… No, that’s impossible! My father didn’t even know about daemons until you brought their name up!” Rewa’s anger translated into raw tremors in her voice, and her chest rose with each deep breath she took in an attempt to keep herself under control.

  “Where did you hear that?” Emilian replied, his tone lower than usual, and his eyes narrowed. “The daemons told you? Who?”

  “Darius himself.” Blaze moved closer to Caia’s side. “He’s alive.”

  Rewa froze, her mouth gaping with shock.

  “What are you talking about, Blaze? Have you lost your mind?” she murmured.

  “Jax and Hansa saw him. He’s alive. He faked his own d
eath. The explosions were his doing.” Caia reinforced Blaze’s statement.

  “No… That can’t be. I buried my father! I saw his corpse… his Lordship ring…” Rewa shuddered, bursting into tears. Vincent put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as she sobbed uncontrollably.

  Emilian, Farrah, and Rowan were quiet, occasionally stealing glances at one another.

  “I’m sorry, Rewa, but it’s true,” Caia replied softly. “Darius is alive.”

  “It can’t be!” she cried out. “My father wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t cause me so much grief.”

  The information didn’t sit well with the Lords, a mixture of grief and anger settling on their faces. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and slowly turned my head to see Correction Officers lining the edge of the terrace on the third level, looking down at us. Why did that feel so wrong?

  “I am truly sorry, Rewa,” Blaze sighed. “He lied to you. He lied to all of us. We don’t know why he did what he did. All we know is that he’s alive and he is working with the daemons.”

  “You… You mean to tell us that Darius, a Lord of this city and a friend to us all, blew up our homes, killed our people, and aligned himself with Shaytan?” Emilian replied through gritted teeth.

  My heart stopped for a second. My temperature dropped to icy new lows, as the hard truth hit me like a punch in the gut.

  “Basically, yes, Lord Obara,” Blaze replied. “The explosions were planned, devised to aid him in faking his death, but we—”

  “You know his name,” I breathed, every muscle in my body loaded with unbearable amounts of tension.

  Emilian swiftly turned his head to look at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “You said his name. Shaytan. You know the king’s name,” I said, my voice somewhat firmer as my brain adjusted to the revelation. I’d yet to figure out what it meant, exactly, but my mind was already in overdrive, and processing.