Intuition: The Premonition Series (43 page)

“I’m not going to ask you whose they are,” I mutter, and listen to them all laugh. This is a really bad idea. I will gain nothing from this, unless I can somehow get away, but there are no advantages to fighting Keegan for me. They will see that I’m stronger than I look and they will compensate for my strength. I want them to believe that I’m weak, so I need to play scared. I inch closer to Brennus, saying, “Don’t make me do this.” I let the fear I’m feeling leak into my voice. I am afraid because I have never fought someone for real before and Keegan doesn’t look like the type who will play nice.

“Don’t let her play you, Brennus. She is more than able to hold her own against Keegan. No offense, Keegan,” Alfred says when Keegan turns and looks like he might take a bite out of him. “Seraphim can fight the most deadly warriors. She is created to kill and protect. She is well on her way, trust me.”

Brennus stiffens. “Whah weapons do ye suggest, Reaper?” Brennus asks in a strained tone. He thinks I’m playing him, too. I’m about to lose a lot more than an advantage. I bite my lip softly when I look into his eyes, seeing anger there.

“I like knives, they hurt a lot,” Alfred says as his trap for revenge springs on me. Fear ignites in me while Alfred smiles languidly at me. Glancing over at Brennus, his face is neutral, but Finn, who is standing next to him, looks alarmed.

Everyone falls back from Keegan and me in an instant. Intense fear is giving way to panic. It’s beginning to overwhelm me, so much so, that my legs feel weak. Stripping his shirt off, Keegan reveals his broad, muscular back. Pounding on his enormous chest with his fist, he stirs up the crowd of Gancanagh surrounding us. Then, he turns toward me and gives me an evil leer, while bouncing around in front of me, like he is warming up to butcher me.

Finn comes forward with the key to my shackles. Bending down, he releases me from the chains. He pulls them off, letting them swing in his fist as he walks away without looking me in the eye.
He’s afraid for me,
I think, seeing the bend to his back and wondering if I have gained an ally. With shaky hands, I put the boxers on under the nightgown I will be forced to fight in.

Everyone antes-up with his knives and there is quite an array of wickedness to choose from. I know almost nothing about knives, so when Brennus orders me to choose, I have no idea what to do. I look around for help, but no one steps forward to assist me. So I ask for help, “Finn, will you choose for me?”

Finn glances at Brennus and when Brennus nods once, Finn steps forward and scans the weapons. He chooses two long-handled daggers of almost equal size and weight. He must be concerned about balancing the weapons. Handing them to me, he explains in a low tone, “Dis blade is moin; ’tis very old and ’tis anointed by the priests of Gahenna. Dis one is Brennus’, and it too, has been anointed. I give dem ta ye freely, Genevieve, but I do na know whah dey will do for ye.”

“What do you mean, Finn?” I ask him in an equally low tone, feeling all of the hair on the back of my neck standing up. The knives in my hands feel eerie, in a way that is different than just the fact that they are seriously lethal weapons.

“I mean, dey will na respond to anyone unworthy of dem,” he replies in a whisper, making my insides churn.

“Is it faerie magic?” I ask him half-jokingly.

“’Tis,” he says with a deadly serious expression. I nod my head slowly, acknowledging his words as I tighten my grip on the weapons. I look beyond him to Keegan to see him prancing around trash talking with his boys.

Slowly, I exhale a calming breath, attempting to slow down my heartbeat because it is racing out of control, and I wonder if they can all hear it. Alfred can and he tries to kick it up a notch when he says, “Maybe, after you get carved up, Evie, you can show us some of the magic that you used to heal Russell.”

It is like he has cut me.
How does he know about that? Did he get to one of my angels? Who else knows that information? Just my inner circle and the few random souls that witnessed me heal Russell.
I turn cold, and then hot, but I don’t have time to break it down. Keegan’s snarl is fierce as he launches himself at me faster than a raging bull. Off guard and unprepared for his speed, I leap back from him, barely avoiding being sliced in half. But, I am too slow. Catching my back, his blade runs diagonally across my right shoulder to my left hip. I pivot away. I can feel that the cut isn’t too deep because my wings take most of his thrust away. Beginning to bleed instantly, I hear a dozen or more rapid
clicks
of fangs engaging in the room as the scent of my blood permeates it.

The cut burns like fire. Keegan, who is enjoying this immensely, smiles at me, showing me his fangs while licking my blood off his blade. Taunts are being thrown at us from the crowd of Gancanagh that have formed an arc around us. “Ye shouldn’t play wi’ yer food, Keegan,” someone calls out. Someone else asks if I taste like “angel cake.” Keegan, laughing and sneering says, “No, lads—she tastes unbelievable—I’ve never tasted da like—’tis ambrosia, a gift from God…and I must have more.”

Trembling overcomes me when the knowledge that Keegan isn’t playing games begins to take root in my mind…he isn’t trying to train me, or show me how to perfect a move. He doesn’t care that I feel weak, terrified, and broken inside. He doesn’t mind that my de-cision to be brave is deserting me as the state of hypervigilance that I have been in is now breaking me down. It doesn’t bother him that I just spent days on the cold, hard floor, while mired in dehydration, in a place that is as close to Hell as I have ever been. In fact, he would probably enjoy knowing that and he isn’t going to pull up, if I slip or falter. He is going to come at me with everything that he has and he will kill me if Brennus allows him to, but if he doesn’t, Keegan will settle for just hurting me really, really bad.

Keegan doesn’t change his tactic the next time he charges me. So, instead of leaping back as before, I became pliant, folding backward so that he charges right over me. Using his force to thrust him past me, I score my blades across his left side, tearing nice sized jagged lines into him. He bleeds, but I wonder if it’s truly his blood, or Lynnette’s blood as I crouch to defend myself, watching for him to come back at me.

He loses some of his arrogance and swagger, seeing that he, too, is bleeding. He replaces the swagger with brutality. Trying to use terror to throw me off, Keegan licks his own blood off his fingers, letting it smear on his face repulsively. I’m trying really hard not to let it get to me, but he’s just so freaking terrifying as he stalks me, looking for a weakness to exploit, that I want to cry, to plead for help, but I know I will get none.
No one will help me here,
I think, cringing as Keegan begins talking to me.

“Do ye know whah I’m goin’ ta do ta yer soul mate when I find him?” Keegan asks me with a harsh sneer, coming at me from the right side and piercing the air with his knife, making me lurch back from him. “I’m goin’ to take me knife and split him down his middle, so dat everyting inside of him jus slides out,” he says, sounding deranged, and the image of what he just says causes something to shift inside me.

I stop retreating.
He will never get Russell because I will not allow him to live long enough to find him.
All of the terror that has made my heart race in my chest is now being pushed back. Fear is melting away as I’m zeroing in on my prey. Engaging in the fight, I begin to stalk Keegan, circling him and picking out all of the subtle imperfections in his form.
He is strong and fast, but he lacks finesse,
I surmise, watching him swing uselessly at the air. His knives whistle wickedly, but they are not getting near enough to me to cut me.

Seeing an opening in his defenses, I sprint to the column nearest to me. Leaping at it in a fraction of a second, I use my right foot to spring off of it, propelling me toward the column next to it. Landing lightly with my left foot higher on this column, I immediately push off of it, effectively reversing my momentum. This is allowing me to spring back to the first column. Landing higher still with my right foot, I’m ricocheting back and forth between the two columns. Almost to the top now, I tower several feet above Keegan’s head. The next time I make contact with the neighboring column, I use it as a springboard. Pitching myself toward Keegan at an arcing angle, I drive my knives downward. Keegan, seeing me coming, pivots his body at the last possible instant. He avoids being impaled by my knives, but he is still too slow to avoid having his chest slashed open.

I tumble hard onto the ground and allow my momentum to roll me safely back from any counterattack Keegan might mount. When I bounce up, Keegan stands watching me, panting and clutching his chest in disbelief. “I’m goin’ to cut yer wings off and mount dem on me wall,” he says as his teeth grind with menace. Instantly, he throws a knife to the right of me while simultaneously diving to my left. He plans for me to go left, to avoid the knife on my right, where he will be waiting to carve me up. But, I’m faster than he expects. Dodging to the right, I manage to avoid his trap, while only getting a small nick on my upper arm as his knife spirals past me.

In a millisecond, I run to the column in front of me, using my momentum to scale it easily. Reaching the top, I spring from it, planting my feet and pushing off hard against the stone, launching with ease to an adjacent column. Catching the column and wrapping my arm around it, I begin spiraling down around the column. I drop to the ground, landing just behind Keegan. Leaping up on his back before he can react, I coil my legs around his waist, crossing my arms in front of his neck. I pull back hard, drawing the blades of my knives across his neck in an X, cutting him open and allowing his blood to seep out of his body unchecked. His legs crumple beneath him as I unwind myself from him before he hits the floor, landing on my feet. Not pausing to see if he is dead, I spin and throw both of my knives at Alfred. His screams of anguish come to me from across the room as the blades embed in him, impaling him to the chair he is seated in.

Turning and running as fast as I can to the entrance of the cave, I feel my blood pounding in my veins. Leaping to the closest handhold in the rock face, I pull myself up the wall, scaling it without faltering. A pursuit is being mounted behind me, but I know I can reach the top of the cave before any of them can get to me. My elation with that fact is short lived, however, because as I reach the top of the wall, a face of a Gancanagh that I don’t recognize looks down at me. He is some kind of sentry for the entrance to the cave. He is not alone either. There are two more who are smiling at me. One of them says, “Well, hallo,
aingeal.”

I’m dead,
I think. The guard that spoke to me encircles me in his arms, jumping back into the hole of the cave with me in tow.

Raw, agonizing fear hits me in waves when I see the menacing faces of the Gancanagh. The guard releases me immediately when we land. Alfred is still screaming as someone is prying the knives out of his shoulders to release him from the chair. I want to cry because I haven’t managed to kill him.
If I had killed him, it may have all been worth it. Now, the Gancanagh will kill me and this will be over,
I think, feeling terror and relief at the same time. I want desperately for this to be over.

I glance over to where I had left Keegan on the floor of the hall. He is still there, lying unmoving in a pool of blood. My entire body is shaking as I stand listless, staring at Keegan, unable to speak.
I did that…I made him cease to be…I murdered him,
I think as my brain slows down. I should fight the fellas that are gathering around me, or I should try to run again, but I can’t. I’m disconnecting from them all.

Staring as the crowd parts for Brennus, I watch him approaching me. I can’t read his face. The fellas are all talking around me and I’m catching a few phrases that aren’t making any sense to me. “Shell shock,” “thousand-yard stare,” and “battle fatigue” rattle around in the air from the Gancanagh nearest me.

When Brennus comes close enough to me, I reach out, clutching the front of his shirt. But, my grip is so weak that I can hardly hold on to it. As I look up into his eyes, I murmur to him, “Help me… please.”

His eyes soften. “I will…
mo chroí
,” my enemy answers me as he pulls me into his arms. He whispers words in my ear that I don’t know,
“muirnin”
and “
a ghra,”
as he nuzzles my neck with his cold lips. I want to push him away, but I’m so weak that I know he is the only thing holding me up. Numbly, I hear something
click.
Before I can react at all, Brennus pierces my skin with his powerful jaws. A soft whimper escapes me as my legs buckle beneath me. Brennus holds me tight to him as he drains my blood. Everything begins to grow dark. I’m not struggling because he is setting me free… I’m dying, and when it’s over I will be free of this place, and the Gancanagh, forever.

CHAPTER 13

Bloodlust

I’m not dead,
I think as crushing reality begins slamming me in the chest. I’m still very much a prisoner of the Gancanagh. Lifting my head off the silken pillow of Brennus’ enormous bed, my head starts pounding. I feel faint, so I rest my head on the pillow again, gazing at the ceiling until the room stops spinning. There is something different about the room. Lying in the soft, seductive warmth of the bed, I try to figure out what it is and it finally comes to me. The cloying smell that clings to everything is—not gone—but it doesn’t smell so repulsive to me anymore. In fact, it smells almost pleasant.