Unleash the Storm

  She held Samael’s eyes as shock rippled across his face, followed by enraged, manic denial.

  One mistake. One small delay. All it had taken was a single moment pulled off balance, an instant lost to recover it, and Ash had closed the distance.

  The red glow in the daemon’s eyes faded, leaving an empty black stare in a white skull face frozen in that twisted grimace of denial that he had been defeated. Defeated by his former slave and a haemon girl.

  Ash pulled his sword from Samael’s back and the body fell, scythes clattering on the cobblestones. She sat up, suddenly aware of her aching body and the terrible exhaustion that permeated every fiber of her being. Deep in her subconscious, the whisper of Shinryu’s power faded.

  She lifted her gaze to meet Ash’s equally weary eyes as the blue glow receded and a hint of gray returned to his irises. A tired smile touched her lips. They’d done it.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It was finally quiet.

  Most of her attention was focused on the destruction in front of her. Exhaustion weighed her down like an impossibly heavy blanket draped over her body, but she kept moving anyway, climbing over the shattered remains of buildings. The former streets and pathways were littered with debris, almost impassable, but she pushed on anyway.

  The distant sounds of battle had ceased at last. It had taken so long. The war hadn’t ended with Samael’s defeat—his death had been one of hundreds—but the combination of their leader’s demise and the terrifying display of Tenryu’s power in destroying the Chrysalis building, and half of Asphodel, had broken the reapers’ fighting spirit. The battles had shifted from fierce contests to cautious retreats that had only grown swifter. The draconians had regrouped and driven the last pockets of fighters into the outer edges of the estate. And, from the new silence, even that was over. All that was left to do was heal the injured and count the dead.

  One specific injured or dead person concerned her now.

  She jumped over a two-foot-wide fissure in the ground and continued to circle the immense crater that had once been the Chrysalis building. A few minutes ago, she and Seiya had found Kiev, weak from blood loss, and Seiya had taken him to find a healer. Piper had forged on, searching. He was here somewhere. He was nearby. He had to be.

  The ley line, rising up from the crater, rippled and danced in her peripheral vision. She could sort of see it without shading, though she wasn’t sure if that was because she was getting good at that kind of stuff or if the line was so massive it was impossible to miss. It didn’t add any illumination to the darkness—it was magic, after all, not actual light—but the fires burning throughout the estate were enough to see by.

  The shattered wall of a building blocked her path and she huffed tiredly as she reached it. She had just enough magic left to keep her daemon glamour in place but she was grateful for the extra strength as she hauled herself over the obstacle and dropped down on the other side. As she scanned the new vista of rubble, she forgot her fatigue.

  A blond head stood out among the fire-blackened destruction like a diamond among coals. Lyre was sitting on the ground in a seemingly random spot, unmoving. But he wasn’t collapsed, unconscious, or dead. Relief swept through her and she broke into a fast jog toward him.

  Then she saw the bodies.

  Her steps slowed to a cautious walk as she approached. Two bodies. Two incubi. She came to a stop a few feet behind Lyre, lips pressed tight together. Both were strikingly similar to Lyre in appearance and all four had been killed by arrows—Lyre’s arrows, no doubt.

  Carefully, she came forward and knelt beside Lyre. He had spoken of brothers. Ariose couldn’t have been his only family member in Chrysalis.

  Lyre gazed down at them without seeing them. His golden eyes were a thousand miles away, looking at things she couldn’t begin to guess. Memories of his past, his childhood? He didn’t notice her beside him. Angry red burns marred the side of his face, interspersed with deep, horizontal cuts that leaked blood. One shoulder was badly burned, his shirt charred away. His bow was on the ground beside him, his quiver empty, his clothes generously splattered with drying blood. He was out of glamour but no mesmerizing allure distracted her; she suspected he had no magic left to fuel his aphrodesia.

  “Lyre?” she whispered.

  Sluggishly, his head lifted and he looked over at her.

  “Piper,” he sighed. His harmonic voice lacked any strength. “Is it over?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s over now.”

  He nodded, the movement equally sluggish. His eyes drifted back to the bodies. “I had to do it,” he whispered. “It had to be done.”

  She tugged gently on his arm. “Come on, Lyre.”

  He passively allowed her to draw him to his feet, moving stiffly like he’d been sitting for a long time. Since he had forgotten it, she picked up his bow before leading him away. When they were far enough that the bodies were out of sight, she stopped and squeezed his hand until he looked at her.

  “Are you okay, Lyre? Are you hurt?”

  He inhaled deeply and held it, pulling himself together. When he exhaled, he managed a weak smile. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Holding his uninjured arm tightly, she led him back through the rubble, past the spot where they’d found Kiev. He’d been looking for Lyre too, staggering around and still bleeding from his shoulder wound. She wanted to ask Lyre what had happened after she’d left them in the chamber beneath Chrysalis but it could wait. She didn’t want him to have to relive it all over again so soon.

  The estate was too quiet, the silence broken only by crackling fires and the occasional shouts of draconians calling to one another. She kept a sharp eye out for any hidden enemies but she didn’t expect an attack. Asphodel was theirs.

  The whoosh of giant wings through the air stopped her. She looked up as Tenryu swept over them. The dragon landed in a semi-clear spot ahead and Ash jumped down to the street. As soon as he was clear, Tenryu took a couple running steps and leaped skyward. His beating wings carried him over the nearest buildings and his dark body vanished into the night.

  Ash strode swiftly toward them, limping noticeably from his injured thigh. He halted in front of Lyre, his gaze flashing over his friend’s face. His eyes narrowed.

  “Where are you hurt?”

  Lyre grimaced and twitched his uninjured shoulder in a shrug.

  “Lyre.”

  Huffing, he lifted the bottom edge of his shirt. Piper sucked in a sharp breath. Two puncture wounds in his left side leaked blood in trickling rivulets.

  “I mostly stopped the bleeding,” he mumbled.

  “Arrow wounds go deep, you idiot,” Ash growled.

  Lyre frowned in a sort of confused way—then swayed. Piper clutched his arm, steadying him as best she could. Ash turned around and pulled Lyre onto his back in a piggyback carry. He launched back into motion, heedless of the pain his leg must have been causing him. Piper hurried after them, still carrying Lyre’s bow, as they headed back toward the center of the estate.

  In a large courtyard a few buildings away from what was left of the main hall, the draconians had gathered their injured. She didn’t see any bodies, and she was grateful they were collecting the dead somewhere else. Healers moved amongst the injured while the able-bodied carried wounded warriors into and out of the courtyard.

  Near the edge of the chaos, Seiya and Mahala were kneeling beside Kiev, who was stretched out on his back. At a chirp from Zala, Seiya looked up and spotted them.

  “You found him!” she exclaimed, jumping up. “How bad is he hurt?”

  “He’s not about to die but he needs a healer quickly,” Ash answered. “Is anyone free to—”

  “I can heal him.” Mahala stood. Soot was smudged across her face but she didn’t appear injured. “I just finished with Kiev’s shoulder.”

  She and Seiya helped Lyre off Ash’s back. The incubus was limp, either unconscious or close to it. They lowered him to the ground and Mahala cut his shirt off
with a knife to examine his wounds.

  Piper backed away to give them space and Seiya followed. An unfamiliar draconian hailed Ash, waving him over. Rubbing her upper arms for warmth, Piper watched him join several other warriors for some kind of discussion. So much pain and blood filled the courtyard, but the injured draconians waiting treatment were quiet aside from the occasional gasp or groan. She turned away and stared at the sky. It was still pitch black; the eclipse wouldn’t release the suns for hours yet.

  Beside her, Seiya rolled her shoulders back and forth.

  “How are you doing?” Piper asked. Seiya had been pretty sliced up from her fight with Samael’s elite bodyguards.

  “Fine. I have some nice new scars though.” Seiya flicked a glance down Piper’s body and back up. “We’ll get a healer for you next.”

  “Me?” Piper looked down at herself. Ariose’s spell had cut her up a bit but she wasn’t bleeding anymore. She’d been thrown around and blasted with magic and now that she thought about it, her ankle kind of hurt from jumping out the window to escape Samael, but overall, she was in pretty good shape.

  “The healers should take care of the critically injured first,” Piper said. “I’m just a bit scratched up, that’s all. Nothing serious.”

  She was too tired to care about her aches and pains. Lyre’s bow was still in her hand, an unfamiliar weight. Her eyes drifted across the dark shapes of tumbled, broken buildings, some illuminated by the distant fires.

  “We really did it, didn’t we?” Piper said. “We conquered Asphodel.”

  “We did,” Seiya agreed.

  “And Samael is dead.”

  They stood in silence for a minute.

  “What now?” Piper asked.

  “It’s not over yet.” Ash’s voice made her and Seiya turn. He stood behind them, gazing back at the rows of wounded. “This wasn’t the only battle fought.”

  Of course. The Ras and Gaians had fought the Hades forces on Earth while they’d attacked Asphodel. She unbent from her exhausted slouch.

  “We need to know if they won,” she said.

  “And we need to know if we should be expecting company if they didn’t.” He lifted a hand and waved to someone. Raum peeled away from the group of warriors he was walking with and headed toward them.

  Ash’s eyes turned to Piper. “I know you’re tired, but we’re not quite done yet.”

  * * *

  “Tired” was an understatement of epic proportions. Her human body felt so weak and wobbly, and her multitude of cuts and bruises hurt a hell of a lot more out of her daemon form. The only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that she wasn’t the most tired one in the group.

  “Well,” she said flatly, “this looks like it’ll be fun.”

  Uncle Calder rubbed a hand over the stubble on his normally clean-shaven head and glanced around them.

  She followed his gaze. Thankfully, the battle with the Hades forces had been over by the time she arrived in Brinford and it hadn’t been hard to find her father and uncle in the aftermath. However, she didn’t like the heavy tension in the air despite the recent victory.

  The Ra embassy rose above them. Well, mostly rose. The upper third of the tower was missing, splintered away like a felled tree. Miysis would not be pleased that the beautiful aviary on the top floor had been destroyed. Signs of the recent violence were everywhere: the burnt shells of Gaian jeeps, the rubble of broken buildings, scorch marks and cracked pavement, and dark, unsettling puddles among the debris. At least the bodies of enemies and allies alike had already been collected and moved away.

  Clustered around the embassy’s base was the entirety of the Ra force. Ostensibly, they were clearing rubble away from the building, but the way they watched the other side of the street with just a bit too much care …

  Opposite them in an open parking lot, the Gaian forces were gathered. Even though they appeared equally as busy, the word that came to Piper’s mind was “loitering.” Their weaponry, a little too conveniently, all pointed in the direction of the much smaller Ra force.

  The road between them was completely empty like some kind of designated no man’s land, and that was where she, her uncle, her father, Seiya, and Raum uncomfortably stood.

  Seiya and Raum were the only draconians who could be spared to accompany her to Earth. Ash had been held back to coordinate a fast withdrawal from Asphodel with the other draconian commanders. Piper and Seiya had spoken with Mahala, and she’d promised to ensure Ash had the worst of his injuries healed before coming to Earth—especially the bad slice in his wing from his fight with Samael.

  Zwi had come with Piper and was sitting quietly on her shoulder, watching everything with alert golden eyes. The setting sun dipped below the downtown skyline and long shadows darkened the streets, heightening the ominous feeling in the air.

  She looked from one side of the street to the other and swore under her breath. Another battle was the last thing anyone needed. The Gaians outnumbered the Ras by more than enough to make it look like an easy victory, but the Ras were hardly pushovers. Her jaw clenched as she looked back at the Gaians. Were they afraid to withdraw while the Ra force was present? Or were they thinking that this was a good chance to finish the job once and for all—to exterminate the entire daemon presence from the city in one tidy shot. Not that it would be that easy.

  “Haven’t they had enough death and destruction?” Piper snapped at no one in particular.

  “It looks like you can ask them directly,” Calder said. “Miysis is coming.”

  She looked around. The Ra heir was indeed heading toward their little group, with a small entourage of griffins. At least they were in glamour, suggesting they didn’t intend to enact any violence. Miysis’s red uniform was spotless. She supposed that made sense; the Ra family didn’t want to risk any more heirs by sending them into battle.

  “What’s the deal, Miysis?” she demanded as soon as he was within hearing distance.

  Calder and Quinn shot her disbelieving looks at her total lack of diplomacy. Miysis’s expression didn’t change as he stopped in front of her, glancing casually over her shredded, bloody clothing.

  “Can I assume your efforts in Asphodel were a success?” he asked coolly.

  “Asphodel is destroyed,” she answered. “Samael is dead. Looks like you and the Gaians didn’t do too badly either.”

  Miysis absorbed the news of the demise of his family’s greatest enemy before answering. “It went reasonably well. The damage to the embassy was unfortunate—the Hades forces were better equipped than we’d expected—but our combined attacks caught them unprepared.”

  “Glad to hear it. Since it’s all over now, what are you doing?”

  “Pardon?”

  “What is all this?” She waved a hand toward his small army, bottling her irritation. “Cleaning up a pile of rubble hardly seems like a top priority when you just finished a damn war.”

  His eyes flicked toward the Gaians then back to her. He said nothing.

  She folded her arms. “I’m too tired for word games, so I’ll be straight about it: Do you want another battle?”

  He flexed his jaw. “Of course not. I didn’t want the first one either.”

  “Then why haven’t you withdrawn your forces?”

  “I should think that was obvious.”

  She looked back toward the Gaians, hanging around with their armored jeeps and mobile artillery aimed at the already smoldering embassy.

  She turned to her uncle. “Where’s the Gaian general?”

  Calder strode toward the Gaian side of the street. The rest of them stood in awkward silence, waiting. Miysis eyed Raum and Seiya curiously but didn’t say anything. Several minutes passed before Calder returned, a handful of Gaians in tow. She wasn’t surprised to see that Walter was not among them.

  “General,” she said brusquely. “Why aren’t you preparing your troops to leave?”

  The general cleared his throat. “I’m afraid we can’t do that yet.
”

  She inhaled slowly, praying for patience. “Why not?”

  The general looked at Miysis. Miysis gazed stonily back at the general. Piper tightened her hands into fists, resisting the urge to throw them in the air—or punch one of the men. Idiots. They were too worried about what the other might do to go home and end this war already.

  Zwi chittered softly, the sound almost … smug.

  With a deafening roar, Tenryu swept out of the darkening sky on vast wings. Every single daemon and haemon soldier ducked as the dragon whooshed overhead. He wheeled around in the sky and plunged down, crashing to the ground almost on top of her group. His spread wings arched above him, making him look even more impossibly massive.

  She gaped at Ash, crouched on the back of Tenryu’s head, casually holding one of his horns for balance, his face covered by black armor. Faint blue light smoldered from between his and Tenryu’s scales, an eerie glow in the dusk light. She knew Ash had planned to catch up with her, but she hadn’t expected him to bring Tenryu. A great dragon on Earth?

  Turning back to the others, she cleared her throat. Miysis’s eyes were black in a ghostly white face. He’d never looked so shocked and, dared she say, afraid. He’d backed up several steps and she suspected only his pride kept him from bolting away from the colossal dragon. The Gaians clearly weren’t worried about their pride. Most of them had scrambled backward and several had fallen over. Only the general had managed to keep his same basic position.

  “Gentlemen,” she said. Miysis and the general tore their stares away from Tenryu to look at her. She smiled sweetly. “The warlord of Taroth and his great dragon would really like you to take your soldiers and leave. How about you start packing up now?”

  “The warlord …” Miysis whispered in disbelief. His eyes flashed from the dragon towering over them, to Ash perched on Tenryu’s head, then to Piper. He gazed at her speechlessly—then he laughed, the sound ringing with mirth.

  “Ah, Piper, the secrets you’ve been keeping from me. So this is how the draconians took Asphodel.”