Stolen (17 page)

She knew him by feel: hard and comforting.

 
“We’re getting the hell out of here,” Cayne said.

*

Julia’s body relaxed with a deep, instinctive relief. His arms had pressed her neatly to his chest; even his chin tucked down to shelter her. His rumbling voice was in her hair. “That was close.”

She felt exhilarated, and at the same time a little scared. He was a Nephilim. A Hunter. If this was ten years ago, he’d have already killed her.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “You’re safe with me. I’ll always protect you.”

“I know,” she heard herself whisper.

She felt Cayne flap his wings and she looked down, dizzied by their height. She looked up and was shocked to see the glass ceiling almost directly above them. She could see where the Nephilim were getting in, too. Four of the large glass panels had been removed.

They were gliding in so fast, Julia realized the place was going to be overrun. “No! Cayne, no! Go back down! I have to go back down for Meredith!”

“There’s no way!”

“You HAVE to! Cayne, please! She’ll die!”

Cayne groaned, a frustrated roar, and turned, diving. There were bodies everywhere, Chosen and Nephilim dying left and right. Julia saw people she knew—Randy, the coffee guy, gutted and spilled. Charles curled up in an unmoving ball. It was so much, too much, and Julia hit the “Off” switch on her emotions.

Cayne came out of his dive, and she pointed him left, as near as she could guess to the spot where she’d left her friends. She thought she would have to Float and try to find them in the compound, but then she saw Meredith and Carlin were still there. Carlin on the ground, Meredith standing between her and a Nephilim.

 
“There!” Julia pointed. “Hurry!”

It seemed to take only a breath for Cayne to zip past, practically decapitating the other Nephilim.

Carlin’s head was down, her eyes shut, but Meredith was with it enough to shriek as Cayne and Julia flew at her.

Cayne touched down, and Julia jumped out of his arms. “Meredith, it’s okay! Do you want to go?”

“With him?” Her brown eyes popped out, skeptical times ten. “Are you
sure
?”

A ball of blue fire flew over Meredith’s head, and she ducked. When she came up, she seemed steeled. “Okay, but Carlin’s out. We’ll have to carry her, too.”

“How do you know she—”

“I’m not leaving her. Herbert’s dead and Drew got taken and…” She covered her mouth, stifling a sob, and Julia watched her nail polish sparkle.

The next second, her arms were around her friend, and she was looking over her shoulder. Cayne nodded. “I can get all of you.”

He could. They settled with Meredith on Cayne’s back, Julia in his left arm, and limp, pale Carlin in his right. Julia wrapped her arms around Carlin, too.

It was awkward, and almost got scary when they ran into two Nephilim mid-way to the ceiling, but even with the three of them, Cayne was faster. He burst past one, slapping him in the face with his wing, and
outflapped
the other.

They flew through the ceiling with Meredith shrieking and Julia clinging to Carlin for dear life (Carlin’s, of course) and the Nephilim entering the pyramid looking very confused, and then they were out! There was fighting outside as well, but they were over it, speeding away. They were halfway across the wide field that surrounded the pyramid when Julia spotted someone lying face-down in the grass.

“DREW!
Omigod
that’s Drew, we have to stop!”

Cayne groaned, and they were diving; Drew grew bigger and bigger and at that moment he rolled over, his face a mask of fear. To his credit, he jumped up, wielding a smooth, round stone, and smashed Cayne in the head before anyone could get a word out.

Julia was livid. “He’s on our side!”

“Not his!” Cayne snapped, clutching his head.

“He’s a Nephilim!”

“And
Dizzy’s
a Chosen!” Julia snapped. “So what!”

That shut Drew up. The battle had already moved outside—or maybe that’s where it had started—and Meredith said, “Get over it already, ‘cause we’re
all
leaving. Together. Now.”

Drew was willing, as long as he could hold Cayne’s dagger.

“Don’t expect me to trust him!”

 
Cayne had a few choice words about that plan—“I don’t need a dagger” being the least salacious—which set Drew’s aura to red. Then a massive burst of what looked like lightening erupted from the pyramid, bringing the south half of it down, and Drew dropped the issue.

They made a quick plan, which involved running to the parking deck and stealing a van, which Cayne hated. He gave several reasons, but it all boiled down to “too dangerous,” and when Drew asked him for his idea, he said, “Every person for himself.”

It took Julia saying she wouldn’t leave without her friends to get him to come around.

As they hoofed it toward the deck, running like children in a group relay at field day—a horrible, horrible field day—they encountered three Nephilim. Cayne killed the first two with an ease that stunned Drew and Meredith.

They were maybe a hundred yards from the parking deck when they encountered the third. Meredith had just gushed “Oh my god we’re going to make it,” when two bodies splattered to the ground right in front of them. One was Herbert; he had been cut in two, so his legs were on the other side of the second Chosen. Julia wasn’t sure who she was—her face had been cut off. But she was the right size for Anise.

Meredith screamed. Drew stared, open mouthed. Julia, closest to Herbert’s legs, found herself gagging into the grass.

Cayne looked at the sky and cursed what he saw. Julia followed his gaze, and her blood froze.

Samyaza’s wings were stretched out, shifting subtly with the wind as he floated toward them. Death.

 
“Cayuzul!” he crowed when he landed. “And friends!” His eyes stopped on Julia, and she shivered.

“Run,” Cayne commanded.

“Or stay.”

“I’m going to kill you this time,” Cayne snarled, summoning his dagger.

Sam smiled back, baring his teeth. “You are—”

Cayne leapt at him, tackled him to the ground, and the two rolled, stabbing at each other wildly. Julia saw Cayne rip into Sam’s side, but Sam sliced Cayne across the shoulder. Drew brandished his sword and charged, but Sam pinned Cayne and caught the blade. He jerked it out of Drew’s hand and aimed it back at Cayne, but Cayne flipped the Nephilim king before he could use it. He caught Sam by his feet and slammed him to the ground.

“Get her out of here!” Cayne yelled. “I’ll take care of him.”

Drew turned, grabbing Julia’s arm. “Come on!”

 
“No!”

“Now!”

“He saved your life,” she snapped.

“He saved yours,” Drew retorted, “and I’m finishing the bloody job. Now come on!”

Cayne and Sam were circling each other, still jabbing, and Julia could see that Cayne’s aura was dimming. She tried to reach him, to heal him like the last time, but it was impossible with Drew jerking her.

“Leave me alone!”

“You have to come now!”

“No!” She elbowed him hard, and he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.

He was surprisingly fast, but Julia caught him with her fist at just the right spot on his side. He stumbled, and she wrestled herself free.

She ran toward Cayne, and this time Drew didn’t try to stop her.

“Train depot!” he called, and she had no idea what that meant. She didn’t care. Samyaza was standing over Cayne, and Julia wasn’t close enough. She focused on Sam, on his aura, dark and beautiful; deep hues, dark purples, midnight blues and inky blacks.

Without thinking, she struck.

Julia had never used her power this way, but she’d realized it was possible when she’d seen Cayne after his fight in Salt Lake City. She wasn’t sure exactly how she knew she could do it; it was almost instinctive. Or rather, it just clicked.

She sent her aura snaking out, speeding across the grass, similar to how she might heal. But this time she worked it into a chain, roped it around Sam.

He burned,
searing
, and Julia knew she couldn’t hold him but for a few seconds. But it was long enough. Cayne was able to flip the Nephilim king. He rammed his dagger quickly into Samyaza’s chest, then his throat, then his chest again, and then he jumped back, shielding Julia.

But the Nephilim king didn’t stand again.

All sound snuffed out, until all Julia could hear was Cayne’s gasping breaths and Samyaza’s raspy voice.

“How have you done this? I am older than the human race. Demons feared me when they walked this earth. How is it that children could bring my end?”

Cayne’s face was still, but Julia could see his aura flickering (the colors of confusion, anxiety, dread, regret). Then Sam said, “You are not Nephilim. You cannot be.”

Cayne’s aura went wild. “What do you mean?”

“I always had my suspicions. And now…” Samyaza smiled. “It seems you serve
their
purpose.”

Julia felt her heart thud. She grabbed Cayne’s arm, and to her horror, he sank down to his knees. “Tell me what you’re talking about!”

Samyaza laughed at him. “Do your duty, Cayuzul.” He took one last, gurgling breath, cast his drooping eyes frighteningly over Julia, and died.

Cayne seemed stunned. Julia knew she was. The thing that murdered Harry and Suzanne, that had prompted her to join Cayne, was dead.

Her first thought was
Does this mean there’s no more need for Candidates?
Her second was
What does this mean for me and Cayne?

When she glanced at him again, he had one hand over his face and he was breathing hard.

“Cayne, are you…okay?” It was weird to ask. Weirder not to know. She had felt so in tune with him just—what,
three days
ago?

She watched his shoulders rise and fall, and he lifted his grayish face to her. His eyes were tired—so tired and worried. “Are
you
okay?”

“I don’t know,” she said.
About any of this
. “But… we need to find Meredith and the rest.”

Cayne nodded, dazed eyes still on Samyaza’s body. For some reason, Julia couldn’t look at it.

“Let’s go,” he said, and they had only taken their first step when a loud BOOM shook the ground. An instant later, the parking deck collapsed.

“No!” Julia ran toward it, barely aware of Cayne behind her. The entrance was blocked; most of it had caved in, but her eyes refused to believe it. Her gaze jumped frantically around, hopping from rubble to rubble to…

“Oh, shit”—half gasp, half sob.

She shook violently, so much so that her knees gave out and Cayne grabbed her waist.
 
She grappled for her Sight, searched for their auras. Found nothing.
         

Cayne’s voice was thick syrup. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, feeling dead inside. “I was only here for three days,” she murmured.

Cayne’s fingers, on her shoulder, squeezed. “We need to go.”