Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (10 page)

BOOK: Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4)
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The clock had stopped.

“Merbais has been hit.”
 

FIVE

We disembarked onto a tiny runway, nothing more than a strip of concrete along the coast. Inky night painted the sky. Blustery, chilly winds flung the sharp scent of the ocean through wild grass and whipped strands of hair against my face.
 

A lonely row of lampposts cast a weak patchwork of light across the runway. Tall figures huddled before the trucks lining the asphalt.

Three shadows separated from the group and approached. Francis Blanchard, the head ondine of Merbais, had a mass of dark brown curls pulled back into a thick braid and a weather-worn, angular face. Worn jeans and flannel shirt loosely hung off broad shoulders and an athletic, strong body.
 

“Prince Belicoux. Counsel Genevieve. ‘Bout time you got here.” Her crisp accept bit through the air.

“Marquisa Frances Blanchard.” Jeeves stepped forward. “This is Governor Kendra Irisavie.”

She shook my hand. Firm grip.

The rest of the introductions were made.

Once we found out about Merbais, the Council had thrown together an emergency task force to assess the damage and help the community with rescue and recovery.

Tristan, Julian, and I lead the team. Tristan and Julian had each brought their own contingent of men, including Cam, Alex, Blaise, and Ethan.

I’d brought the nixes. Holden and his group could provide useful intel.

And Ian was here for Aubrey.
 

“Her name is Noelle Rossay.” Her voice trembled slightly. “She’s a Healer.”

Frances shook her head. “I’m sorry. We’re still in the middle of rescue so I can’t give you an answer.”

Aubrey wrapped her arms around her stomach, her face frighteningly pale. Ian drew her in close.

I gestured. “These your men?”

The officious-looking demillir standing to her right had a slightly harried expression and wore an immaculately pressed button-down shirt.

He held a tablet under his arm and extended his hand.

“Bernard Harman.” His voice bounced with energy. “Head Chevalier of Merbais.”

I shook his hand and nodded at Julian. “And this is —“

“Head Chevalier LeVeq.” Bernard grabbed Julian’s hand with both hands. “I’m so thrilled to meet you, sir. I’ve heard amazing things.”

“Must’ve been lies.”

Bernard laughed nervously. “Certainly not.”

Julian pulled his hand away, catching Bernard off-guard. His weight tilted forward and he stumbled. I grabbed his shoulders before he landed on his face.

He straightened, a bright flush creeping up his neck. “Excuse me,” he mumbled.

I let go and he nervously smoothed the front of his shirt.
 

If this was Merbais’ head chevalier, I wasn’t looking forward to meeting the rest of their security.

“Richard.” The enormous selkie standing to Fanny’s left stuck his hand out. “Head gardinel.”

I shook it and he held on to my hand a millisecond longer than convention would demand. He shook his head carefully, just enough that his blonde locks flipped attractively in the wind, and shifted to show off his muscled chest and biceps.
 

It was like watching a posturing ape.
 

Tristan cleared his throat and said something to Richard in the selkie language. His voice carried a slight edge. Richard frowned slightly, released my hand, and stepped back.

Enough with the introductory pleasantries. “Full report, Chevalier Harmon.”

Bernard whipped out his tablet and swiped the screen to access his report. He beamed, as if this was the part he lived for.
 

“Attack took place at eight pm. A call came in from a chevalier patrolling the southeast perimeter along the coastline.” He paused and straightened with pride. “After what happened at the Elemental Conference, we’ve been more vigilant about the water. You know, in case they decide to do something like that again.”

Everyone stared.

When no one reacted with the overwhelming praise he clearly expected,
 
Bernard cleared his throat. “First one appeared, emerging from the water. The rest quickly surrounded us.”

“What do you mean they surrounded you quickly?” Tristan directed his question to Richard. “How did they get around the perimeter?”

“Because we were concentrated in the south, Your Highness,” Richard answered.

Tristan’s forehead creased. “All of you?”

Richard nodded. “As soon as the call came in of an Aquidae sighting in the south, I sent my men there.”

“One Aquidae,” Tristan repeated. “You sent all your men to the same location to deal with one Aquidae?” He transferred his attention to Bernard. “And all the chevaliers as well?”

Bernard fidgeted. “We wanted to cut off any threat as soon as possible. We’ve been very careful about security since the incident at the Elemental Conference.”

He said it pointedly, almost as if he were blaming Tristan for what had happened in the Selkie Kingdom. I should’ve let him face-plant earlier.

Realization was slowly dawning in Richard’s eyes. “I wanted to cut off an attack as soon as possible —“

“But you left the community vulnerable,” Tristan said harshly. “You didn’t set up a perimeter to protect the residents. Instead, you abandoned the town and your posts to address one Aquidae.”

With each word, Richard seemed to shrink in size.
 

“Where did the rest come from?” Julian asked Bernard.

The chevalier nervously shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Um… from the north.”

Oh, for crying out loud. It was the oldest trick in the book. Use a distraction in one section in order to create an opening elsewhere.

“They came from the woods,” Richard said stiffly. His mouth was rigid, eyes blank. Embarrassment didn’t sit well on him. “According to eyewitness reports, they approached the town center then split into four separate groups that each attacked a different section of town.”

“That’s impossible,” Julian said. “Aquidae attack en masse, in horde behavior.”

“Has that been your experience Head Chevalier?” Bernard’s eyes widened with admiration.

It was more than battle experience. Julian’s undercover work among Aquidae had yielded all kinds of information. The organization operated on a need to know basis, with each demon reporting solely to one person within their cell.

Attacks weren’t about military strategy or tactics. They relied upon pure physical strength and speed to achieve their goal.

Even in the Selkie Kingdom attack, one of the largest ever, the Aquidae had utilized the elements of surprise and overwhelming force. Approaching from the sea, they’d attempted to breach the palace in every way possible - through the front, sides, and back.

“Impossible or not, that’s what happened.” Frances shook her head, her skin pale beneath the moonlight. “Saw it with my own eyes. Wards didn’t even faze them. They split like birds in perfect formation. We’d just finished the town council meeting. Had just enough time to grab a few members and get us into the basement safe room.” She shuddered, her eyes haunted. “They kept throwing themselves at the door. If the gardinels and chevaliers hadn’t returned, we wouldn’t have lasted another ten minutes.”

“We were close enough to hear the beginnings of the attack. We turned back around —“

“Did you get all of them?” Tristan asked, his voice harsh.

I knew that look on his face. It was an unacceptable mistake, especially for a gardinel. You never left elementals you were tasked to guard unprotected. Never.

The selkie kept his head slightly bowed. “No, Your Highness.”
 

“And how many did you get?” Julian asked Bernard in a bored tone.

“Get?”

“Killed.” Julian emphasized. “Destroyed. Bled. Wiped out. Stabbed.”

“Well, none,” Mr. Oblivious Chevalier said. “They fled into the woods before we could get them.”

There it was, the truth in all its glory. A split-second of inattention had resulted in a massacre.

I needed to see this for myself. “Let’s go.”

“Aubrey can come with me,” Jeeves said kindly. “You too, Ian, Holden, Will, Grady, Tara.” He looked at Frances. “Do you have a place where we could rest —“
 

“More than enough room at my house. Talan will take you.”

Jeeves nodded. Aub, Ian, and the other nixes followed him to a burly selkie standing beside a large, black van.

“Chevaliers,” Bernard said formally. “Please follow me.”

Without glancing back, he strode to the cars, chest out and spine straight.
 

We watched him for a moment.

“You think he ever takes that stick out?” Julian murmured.

Blaise snorted. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

We began following him.

“Governor Irisavie,” Frances said. “You’re coming with me.”

The group paused.
 

Julian shot me a meaningful look. Damn it.

Without another word, he pivoted and walked toward the cars.

Alex shrugged, his eyes sympathetic. Blaise and Ethan slowly headed after Julian.

“We’ll catch up later,” Cam muttered.

“Wait.”

They stopped.
 

“There may be something unusual,” I said quietly. “Something that sticks out. It could be anything. A flower, maybe. A note. An object that doesn’t belong.”

Blaise leaned in. “A clue.”

“From the Shadow.”

A few long moments of silence while they digested that new piece of info.

Cam didn’t look happy. “You think he sent you a message? That this was about you?”

“Maybe. Just be on the lookout for anything strange.”

They glanced at each other and I kept a tight leash on my doubt.
 

Just because I was Governor didn’t make me any different from them. We were chevaliers. Like Cam said, we’d trained, become elites, and were inducted together.
 

I was letting Julian get to me.

“Right.” Ethan gave a perfunctory nod and they left.

 
Richard paused beside Tristan and murmured a few words in the selkie language before heading toward his own vehicle. Tristan caught my eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod before following him. He had his own mess to deal with.

“This way,” Frances called out from a waiting SUV.
 

Darkness saturated the lonely road leading away from the airstrip, the car beams slicing through it like yellow blades. A heavy silence fell, both of us lost in our thoughts.

The details of the attack signified a number of things. Aquidae making it past the community wards meant they were powerful, as in Miriam Moreaux level powerful. And the only person who could give them that was the person who’d turned Miriam herself.

Then there was the way they’d split into groups, taking over each part of the community. It meant they knew the layout of Merbais and had planned exactly how to attack.

This was bad.
 

The Shadow was creating Aquidae who were immune to our wards. What was more dangerous than the physical threat was the fact that they were using tactics and strategy.

He was creating an organized army of Miriam Moreauxs, capable of destruction in a matter of minutes.

Foreboding dripped down my spine.

Find me, Kendra.

Until I did, all communities were at risk.

We turned down a dirt trail that wound into Acadia National Forest. Maple and spruce trees cocooned us, their straight trunks casting shadowy masts in the moonlight. The car’s lights flashed across several abandoned cottages. Darkened windows stared at us like empty eyes.

Frances took another left and the pull of the ocean strengthened as she cut toward the coast. Soon, the dirt trail smoothed into paved asphalt and the tree density lessened until the forest abruptly ended.

According to Jeeves’ debriefing, Merbais had been here for hundreds of years, long before the French arrived and named the island île des Monts Déserts because of the craggy cliffs towering over the sea. While it wasn’t the wealthiest or most populated community, it possessed a striking landscape of mountains, rivers, lakes, and bluffs against the powerful Atlantic ocean. Winters were harsh, but the community lived in perfect balance between nature and sea.

No boundaries or gates separated it from the surrounding beauty. Even the paved road sloped and lilted, meandering as if following an invisible course laid out by the island.

Merbais almost seemed to have sprung, perfectly formed, out of the ground.

Frances slowed the car. Shards of glass littered porches and front steps. Smashed doors hung off frames. Broken windows and damaged wood marred once pristine cottages.

To our right was a small, boxy building with a crimson handprint smeared across the bright white siding. The sign above the door read “Merbais Sundries” in neat letters.

Ahead, a cluster of cars and buildings indicated the town’s main junction. Frances pulled over and parked a few blocks away.

“The losses…” Her fingers tightened around the wheel. She cleared her throat. “The losses are high.We had to convert our Academy’s cafeteria into a makeshift morgue.”

“I understand.”
 

Frances led the way. The area had already been cleared, but stains of violence remained. An overturned garbage can. A bloodied hammer. A child’s shoe.
 

Stifling, overpowering currents of emotions surged against my Virtue as we neared the town square. I slammed my filters down, steeling myself for what lay ahead.

Worst of all was the silence. A thick blanket of grief suffocated the night, punctuated only by the occasional cries of utter despair.

This wasn’t an attack.

This was an annihilation.

Bodies lined the side of the road, covered in sheets and tablecloths. A few residents, their faces gaunt with shock, aimlessly staggered between corpses. Others collapsed beside cloth-covered shapes, haunted eyes blankly staring at the lumps and contours of the dead hidden beneath.
 

An ondine lay sprawled on the ground outside a café, her neck twisted at an awkward angle. She couldn’t have been older than twelve or thirteen. Her hair, a beautiful shade of flaxen gold, spilled across the sidewalk, the tips tinged crimson from the blood pooling beneath a nearby body.
 

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