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Authors: Tiffany King

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BOOK: Forgotten Souls
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I heard Sam cry out behind me. Turning immediately, I fled from the room. I made my way down the short hallway as best as I could and skidded to a halt at the kitchen doorway where Sam and Shawn were battling two of their own monsters.

 

I watched, horrified, as the Daemon holding Sam captive jerked her up, with one hand wrapped around her slender throat. His intentions were plain. No longer caring about Haniel's instructions, I slid across the smooth surface of the table that had been shoved in the way. I reached a hand up and grasped a heavy cast iron skillet from the pot rack that hung above the island. In one swift movement, I slammed the pan into the side of the Daemon's head and he collapsed at my feet.

 

Sam threw herself into my arms, grasping for breath. "Are you okay?" I asked, stroking her head.

 

Sobbing, she nodded her head. "They jumped us while we were fixing a snack," she said. "They came out of nowhere," pulling back as we watched Shawn finish off the Daemon he was fighting.

 

Rushing to Sam's side, he ran his hands down her throat, growling at the bruises that lined her slender windpipe. He shoved the table aside in one mighty push and grasped both our hands, dragging us both back toward Mark's bedroom.

 

John, Kieran, Paul, and Kim met us in the hallway. "Are you okay?" Kieran asked, embracing Sam and me.

 

"Yes, but I don’t know where Mark is. I left him when I heard Sam screaming in the kitchen. Have you seen him?" I asked urgently.

 

"No," she answered. "But we did find Faith and Michael. They're both dead," she said in a broken voice.

 

My body tensed at her words. "So is Grace," I said, delivering the devastating news to them. Kieran's face dropped and tears flooded over as the ramifications became clear. Her band was now broken too.

 

"I'm sorry," I said, rubbing my eyes to clear the moisture. Not long ago my grief would have dictated my life, but that seemed a lifetime ago.

 

Right now my grief would have to wait.

 

Nodding their heads, we moved on, searching for the others. The house seemed oddly silent. Even the cries of Thomas had died out. I didn’t want to think about the reason behind the silence.

 

Sam gripped my hand as we left the somewhat safe condition of the hallway and stepped into the living room.

 

"My God," Sam whispered as we took in the destruction that used to be the living room. Furniture was tossed around as if it was made from plastic and not heavy duty material and solid wood frames. A breeze blew across the room through the French doors that were now missing the glass panes. One of the doors stood at an odd angle, making it creak ominously as the wind blew it back and forth. The massive high definition TV looked like it had imploded from the inside out, with cracks woven across the surface like a complicated spider web. Stepping over the broken glass, we approached the broken French doors as a group. I used my emotional gauge to get a sense of what awaited us beyond the tattered doors. Suddenly, we heard a large splash into the pool outside.

 

Picking up my pace, I was the first to cross over the threshold onto the patio.

 

The sight before me took my brain several precious seconds to process. Lynn was penned against the wall of the house by a Daemon while Robert battled another one in the shallow end of the pool. Jaime clawed at the back of the Daemon that held Lynn, while Jacob her Protector, fought a mammoth Daemon that was big enough to give the hulk a run for his money.

 

I felt panic clawing at me trying to decide who to help first. Finally, I jumped to the aid of my friend penned up against the wall. With Sam by my side we both tackled the Daemon from behind, helping Jaime. I used the pottery urn on the patio table to smash over his head while Sam used a swift kick to the back of his knees, making his legs collapse out from under him.

 

Lynn gasped for air and fell to the deck.

 

With adrenaline still pumping through our veins, Sam and I turned to help the others, but saw that Shawn, John, and Paul had beaten us to the punch and had all the Daemons knocked out cold.

 

Relief coursed through me.
We were winning, we could beat the Dark Angel
.

 

"Ah, sweet naïve Krista.
Always so quick to jump to conclusions, but most times the wrong conclusion, wouldn't you say?"

 

Turning around, I found myself face-to-face once again with the monster that had ruined so many lives. Just beyond him, I could see a small army of Daemon's he had brought along. I counted their numbers in my head. There must be at least ten.

 

"Yes, my dear you will lose," he said in the same condescending tone, picking my thoughts for a second time. "Round up the others," he commanded his army in a tone that left no room for argument. Not that they would have argued. I could feel their emptiness as if it were any other emotion. They were soulless creatures acting only on orders.

 

The Daemons surrounded us, herding us back through the broken glass doors. Some of them broke off, searching through the house to round up the rest of my friends. My heart sank when I saw Mark, tattered and bloody, being dragged into the room by two Daemons. Seeing me, he jerked away from their grasp and rushed to my side.

 

Without saying a word, he bookended my face with his hands and stared intently into my eyes. Neither of us said anything, we didn’t need words. The fact that we were together was enough for the both of us at the moment.

 

I pulled my eyes from his when I caught movement behind him. Looking behind him, my stomach turned and bile rose in my throat as several more Daemons dragged in the lifeless bodies of my new friends. Thomas still clutched Grace to him, but all life had left him, the light in his eyes was gone. It seemed incomprehensible that in such a short period of time he had lost all will to live. Another set of Daemons carried in Faith and Michael and deposited them in a heap on the floor.

 

Sorrow rose up in me and it took all the willpower I could muster to tamp it down. I knew giving into my sorrow now would do nothing for our current situation. Jaime, Kim, and Kieran all wept openly for their fallen friends, making me ache as I fought back my own wave of grief.

 

The last of the Daemons crowed in the room, spreading out, blocking every escape route and trapping us all. Huddled in the center of the room surrounded by so much evil threatened to stagger me and my fellow Guides, but together as one, we used our emotions to shield our entire group keeping the vibe they were emitting at bay.

 

"Well, well. I see the Guides
and Protectors, I knew a long time ago have all grown up," Victor said to the band
members standing with my own group in his usual condescending voice. "And Haniel has been training you. Too bad his training will all be for naught," he said, saying Haniel's name like it was something disgusting sitting on his tongue. "Here you stand with your fallen comrades and yet you still act as if you plan to fight."

 

"We do plan on fighting," Mark said in quiet voice with steel laced through his every word.

 

"Son, what is the point now? I'm not here to destroy you all. Actually, I'm quite proud of you. You fought valiantly, now show your intelligence and recognize a no-win situation. I am giving you a chance to join the winning team this time around. I have all the time in the world to convince you," he said, flicking his hand at the Daemons. Instantly, two jumped to attention, moving the lazy boy recliner to him. Settling back on it, he twirled his thumbs as if he didn’t have a care in the world. "It would be so much less melodramatic if you surrendered now, without any more bloodshed. It is not my intention to destroy you, but to make you stronger, without some predestined Link holding you back," he added sarcastically, clearly talking about the Guides.

 

Still huddled together, we watched him apprehensively, waiting for his next move. His empty words meant nothing to us. We knew he didn't need all of us and it was clear he planned to get what he wanted. We would fight to the bitter end to keep him from turning even one of us.

 

"I think this delusional group could stand to be separated," he said, after a few tense minutes. "I think our Protectors
might appreciate a break from their clingy, needy counterparts." His words barely left his mouth before the circle surrounding us moved forward.

 

In one fluid movement our group shifted, enclosing the Guides in the middle with our Protectors guarding us. Shawn was the first to deliver the first bone crunching blow to the side of a Daemons head that attempted to separate us. Shawn's hit created a ripple effect and within moments punches and kicks were flying from every direction. The sound of flesh meeting flesh was nauseating and my stomach churned threateningly.

 

I watched horrified as Shawn was overtaken by two of them and dragged to the ground where they continued to pummel him with kicks. Sam and I threw ourselves over him trying to protect him from their
assult
.

 

Pain exploded through me as one of them clipped me in the ribs with their bone crushing kicks. Releasing my grip from Shawn, I grabbed my side, trying to ease the pain that was pulsating through me. A second kick caught me in the temple and all else faded away as I sunk into a pain induced fog. Before I slipped into darkness, I heard Haniel's words of caution resounding through my head. I could hear Mark's voice from far off calling me as darkness completely pulled me under.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 17

 

 

 

 

 

I woke to quiet sobbing and a pounding headache. Opening my eyes slowly, I tried to focus on the rafters above my head that seemed to have multiplied while I was out. I was surprised to find that my head rested on Jaime's lap, I raised my hands to rub my eyes, hoping to clear my vision. I gasped in pain as a lightning bolt shot through my side, radiating throughout me. "Try not to move," Jaime whispered to me stroking a cool hand across my forehead.

 

Blinking back tears of pain, I turned my head looking for my friends. Confused, I observed Lynn sitting beside me, comforting Sam in her arms. The other Guides huddled around them in different stages of grief. Twisting my head in the other direction, I spotted the Protectors clear across the room, at least twenty feet from us. A line of Daemons stood between them and us blocking us from each other. I could see only one Protector still remained standing while the rest were on the ground in varying degrees of pain. Sam's source of pain was clear when I spotted Shawn, unconscious in a pool of blood. Desperately, I scanned the group searching for Mark. Finding him absent, I struggled to sit up. Jaime braced me under my arms helping me reach a painful sitting position. Finally able to focus my eyes, I found what I desperately sought.

 

Mark was across the room, slumped against the far wall. His eyes were glazed and he looked dazed.

 

Are you okay?
I silently asked him, opening my mind trying to reach out to him. He remained fixated on something beyond my line vision down the hallway and never glanced my way. Despairingly, I tried again, but his mind was completely closed to me.

 

 

 

I felt unease and panic set in as I realized I had left him susceptible to his father's manipulation. By putting myself in the line of fire, I had rendered myself useless at the one job I was responsible for which was protecting my Link's soul. Haniel's warning that had seemed so selfish before now made perfect sense.

 

Mark
,
are you okay?
I tried again, opening my mind, attempting to reach out to him. He remained fixated on something else and never glanced my way. For some reason, his mind was completely closed to me.

 

My mind reeled, trying to digest everything. How had everything gotten so out of control, and where was our God when we needed him the most? Haniel had declared that they wouldn't interfere, but would they really leave all of us to die?

 

Pulling away from Jaime, I painfully slid across the floor reaching Sam and Lynn.

 

"Are you okay?" Lynn inquired quietly, glancing around at the Daemons that continued to surround us.

 

"I think my ribs might be bruised, but yeah, other than that I'm okay. Where's psycho?" I asked.

 

"Somewhere in the back of the house.
He instructed the evil puppets to keep us separated and then disappeared."

 

"How long was I out?" I asked, still confused.

 

"Over half an hour," she answered. "They overpowered us pretty quickly after you were knocked unconscious. Shawn and John haven't regained consciousness since. We've been communicating with our Links and are trying to re-group," she whispered in my ear. "What does Mark think we should do?"

BOOK: Forgotten Souls
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