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The Chosen - 8. Memory of Light
[Chapter 8]
“Spirit Staff!”
A boulder the size of a Fiat was sliced cleanly in half as it hurtled toward our position. The Executioner’s eyes narrowed in a determination when suddenly an explosion rocked the ground and the force of the blast threw us into the air. I landed hard on my back rolling a few feet before the momentum bled off. My vision blurred as I sat up shaking my to clear my sight.
A hand grabbed my arm and hauled me up. I blinked at the Executioner. He looked like he had taken the brunt of the blast but was apparently fine and on his feet. He was the most durable of us all even without armor. His skin was as tough as metal.
“Aurek, are you not injured?” I asked, touching a hand to his shoulder. “That blast was nearest to you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Aye, I'm well. Are you hurt?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. I peered across the crater filled battlefield. Monsters and other demonic abominations surrounded us in a loose ring.
I touched a hand to my bruised ribs. “Why have they held their position, Aurek?”
The Executioner pointed and I saw a flash of light before the battlefield exploded in dazzling colors. Light spread forth like a wave encompassing the horde of dark creatures. I felt something in my chest pull loose and relax. Like an avenging angel, I witnessed the love of my life standing at the center of that attack of light dealing back their attack tenfold.
“Admerion,” I whispered in relief.
The Executioner suddenly jerked, searching the frantically with his eyes. “Where's Apollo?”
The breath was sucked right out of me. “Have you not seen him?”
A grim look was his answer before we both sprinted off into the night looking for our other Chosen comrade. I jumped over dead, mangled demon corpses and severed limbs without slowing. My boots splashed dark ichor upon my legs as I ran through pools of blood.
“Apollo!” I called.
He had to be here somewhere. The explosion couldn’t have thrown him so far. I had to find him. He was my best friend.
“Apollo!”
I snapped awake the name still on the tip of my tongue.
My breathing was shaky. Sweat dripped from my forehead. The dream replayed through my mind on a loop. Apollo. My best friend. I knew without a doubt that Apollo and I were as close as brothers. It was more of a feeling than anything else. I hoped he doesn’t regret the normal life he's going to have to leave behind when his destiny was shown to him.
I glanced at my clock and groaned. Jesus in a manger! It wasn’t even ten o’clock and I was already awake. I normally liked to sleep until noon on Saturday mornings. but that wasn't likely today.
Time to face the day. Joy. I stumbled down the stairs and made my way to the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, I was on my third bowl of cereal in the living room watching a rerun of South Park. Kids, even cartoon ones, who swore always tickled me senseless. I paused it when my phone started to ring. I glanced at Kevin's picture on the display and answered.
"Why did you change your pic to a photoshop of you sitting in the Oval Office?"
Kevin's laugh was delighted. "Finally noticed that? It's called manifest destiny."
I contemplated hanging up on him. "That doesn't mean what you think it means."
"Wow and here I called seeing if you wanted to hang today. I didn't realize you were auditioning to be the next Siri."
I shook my head but realized that he couldn’t see it over the phone so I replied, “Sorry, Kev. No can do. It’s been two weeks and Killian and I still haven’t started to work on our project. I figured I would go over and we could finally get started.”
“Need I remind you that you will be on his property and any violence will look bad on you if the case gets taken to court,” Kevin said, seriously.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to start anything.” Silence from Kevin. “I swear I’m not! I just want to get something done so we won’t completely fail this assignment.”
“Tomorrow then for sure right?” he asked.
“Definitely tomorrow we’ll hang out."
We said goodbye and hung up. I debated on calling Killian but didn’t feel like hearing his voice. He should know I was coming over anyway. He was the one that demanded my presence at his house today so we could get started. I apparently wasn't the only one nervous at the lack of progress. My GPA was at stake here after all.
I heard feet shuffling down the staircase and Morgan passed me as she made her way to the kitchen. She was still dressed in sleeping clothes like I was. Morgan wore a pink halter top, a tight pair of gray shorts that stopped just below her ass with the word Bootylicious printed on the back... I almost threw up in my mouth a little. I licked my lips and tasted something sour. Wait. I think I did throw up a little.
I shot up the stairs to the bathroom and spat into the toilet. Gross. I spent the next hour in the bathroom taking a shower and making myself presentable for the long day ahead. The very long day if Killian was going to be involved. Fuck my life.
I glanced out of my bedroom window as I jumped into a pair of black track pants. They had white stripes that went down the legs and they were most comfortable pants I owned. Mom’s car was gone from the driveway. She must have been called into work. An investigative journalist's life was never dull. Even on the weekends, there was always news to cover. I threw on a white hoodie over my black wife beater.
I looked myself over in the mirror. I was comfortable but ready for anything to pop off. The clothes were loose and easy to move in if I had to fight my way out. Fighting wasn't on the agenda, but you just never knew with us.
My phone showed it was almost five o'clock. It was time to get a move on. I grabbed my keys and left the house. It was funny but even though I hadn’t been to Killian’s house in years since we used to be friends, I still remembered where to go like the back of my hand.
Killian lived in the newer expensive homes built in the exclusive 91101 zip code. It was all lifestyles of the rich and the famous in that neck of the woods. With his dad being a senior partner at a law firm and his mom a famous clothing designer, Killian’s house reflected their joint income. I found my neck straining as I drove past all the luxurious homes in Falcon’s Lair Estates. For some reason, the City Council liked to assign all the neighborhoods names. Killian lived in Falcon’s Lair Estates. My home was located in River Crossing. It was kind of cool in a weird I want to represent my hood kind of way.
I pulled up to a huge, two-story bricked house with lots of windows and couldn’t resist gawking like a clown. I had almost forgotten how big this place was. It may as well be classified as a mansion except it didn’t have a front gate. All mansions had gates or they do on MTV Cribs. It was a gated community so maybe that counted.
I parked near the curb in front of the house. The Blazer looked dirty compared to the shiny new sports cars and SUV's that dotted the street. Rich bitches. I hurried up the sidewalk to the door. The sooner I got this over with the better. It was starting to feel like I was in an episode of Gossip Girl. All I needed now was Blair Waldorf to come out and bitch slap me.
I rang the doorbell and the front door opened promptly. An elderly Asian man with white hair dressed in a black suit and tie answered the door. I hesitated to wonder if my memory was shit and this was the wrong place.
“Can I help you?” he asked kindly, raising an eyebrow at my indecisive expression.
I finally nodded. “Yeah, I was looking for Killian...”
He smiled a kind grandfatherly smile that immediately put me at ease. “Yes, the young sir is here. Please come in while I fetch him.”
Ohh swank. He had a charming upper crust accent that I had only heard in movies. I assumed he was the butler. He was giving me Alfred Pennyworth vibes. He closed the door behind me and left me in the foyer while he ascended up a staircase in the hall. I wandered to the wall and studied the abstract paintings there. They looked incredible to my untrained eye. The only thing I knew about art was to color inside the lines.
“Good you’re here,” Killian said, coming down the stairs. “Let’s get started.”
He didn’t wait for me to follow before he headed back up. He was wearing blue jeans and a fitted blue T-shirt that showed off his muscles nicely. I might not like him but I did notice he had a nice body. I could hold a grudge but I wasn't blind.
He led me to his room and I froze at hearing the door click shut. I quickly shuffled away putting distance between us. I was probably being paranoid but damn it after watching four seasons of CSI: Miami I was wary of people that could be classified as enemies. This entire scenario was a homicide waiting to happen.
I took a moment to observe the room I hadn't seen in years. It was still twice the size of mine but posters had been taken down in exchange for a mounted flat screen. Blocky furniture was replaced by sleek metallic desks and drawers. The bed was a king size and the black comforter made it appear bigger than it was. I was growing a bit envious so I stopped my staring. I took a seat in a chair next to the desk. It was so comfortable that a sigh left my lips.
Killian sat next to the bed and picked up a silver laptop from nearby the nightstand. It was just as sleek and shiny as the rest of his belongings. It was like stepping into a Modern Look magazine. Everything in here spoke of money but it lacked a feeling of comfort and home.
“Let’s hurry and get his over with,” Killian muttered, powering up the laptop.
I sighed. “Yeah, let's. So we had Bengal Tigers.”
“We're supposed to write we know about them before we observe the tigers at the field trip.”
I found myself warming up to him. We were being civil and maybe could get through this without a fight. I was still on edge but Rome wasn’t built in a day.
“So what do you know about them?” Killian asked, green eyes flicking from the screen to me. “Knowing you, probably not much.”
There went the peace theory.
I gritted my teeth fighting back rising anger. “I know they’re in the Kingdom Animalia. Pyhlum: Chordata. Class: Mammalia. I know they’re a tiger subspecies.”
Killian ran a hand through his strawberry blond hair. It wasn’t quite red or all blond, but a blended color. He smirked at me. “I guess you do know something after all. Here I was thinking you were just a dumb blond.”
“Killian shut the fuck up and let’s get to work.”
It was silent except for the tapping of keys as Killian typed on his laptop. He brought up Word and began setting up a new document for us to get started on. He added in what I knew and I was surprised because he memorized everything that I said. Will wonders never cease. He really did know how to listen.
“They're the national animal of India,” Killian said quietly, breaking the silence. He didn’t look up once from typing. “They are usually poached for their pelts. Also, they are now heavily protected since they have few numbers.”
I bit my lower lip watching him closely. When Killian was like this not saying anything he was all right to be around. Why couldn’t he be like this all the time? A long time ago we used to be friends then our fight back in middle school came to mind. I remembered Killian madder than I had ever seen, yelling, swearing, his face twisted in rage. It was stupid, but still to this day I have no idea why he had gotten so angry. The entire thing could have been prevented with a rational discussion.
“So why are you such a jerk?”
Oops. Did that just leave my mouth? Reminder to self: Check into a clinic and get tested for Tourette syndrome.
Killian's eyes darkened. “That's like the pot calling the kettle black?”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? I’m a jerk?”
“Don’t sit there and pretend to be all innocent. You do that all the time. Like nothing is ever your fault.”
“I do say it isn’t my fault a lot. Because it usually isn’t!”
Killian shook his head, rolling his eyes. “You said the same thing when we got into that fight. You made fun of my uncle and refused to apologize—”
“I didn’t know it was your uncle!” I snapped, pissed that he would blame our entire falling out on me. I pushed back the wave of resentment to think calmly. I could feel the magic react to my emotional duress so I took a deep breath centering myself. “I would have apologized if you hadn't cussed me out like an overweight bridesmaid who took the first piece of the wedding cake!”
He blinked at the comment but let it roll off him. People tended to do that a lot around me. I wonder why?
“You don’t understand how much that hurt,” Killian explained heatedly. “Do you not have feelings? That was my uncle! You don’t get how much he means to me.”
I paused as his words washed over me. “Why didn’t you just say something then instead of getting all Intense Boy?”
Killian shrugged finally taking that green eyed stare off me. “I don’t know. My natural reaction was just to attack.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was starting to feel like I was in another dimension, some parallel reality, where Killian and I actually got along. Where was Quinn Mallory and his timer when you needed him! I didn’t know what to do. Should I apologize? I did rag on his uncle. And I did throw the first punch, messing up his face which caused him to lose his modeling gig. I’m sure Polo dropping him from their ad campaign probably cost him thousands of dollars. I would hate me too. Decisions, decisions. I wish I had a coin right now. I could pull a Two-Face and flip on it. That would be an easy answer to all of my questions.
“I’m sorry.”
Fucking Tourette’s. I really needed to get a checkup.
Killian looked surprised at the admission. He paused internally debating with himself while I did a mental check of all the exits just in case he flipped out. I really didn’t want to fight in his own home. He had home field advantage. It was bad luck. A neutral place is always the best way to go.
A minute passed.
“...I’m sorry, too.”
I gave him a hesitant smile. My survival instincts were still kicked in preventing me from being completely at ease with the situation. I took the small half smile on Killian’s face as a sign of honesty.
I opened my mouth and closed it as a loud crash came from the hallway, followed by the sound of raised voices. Killian wore an expression that was a mix of embarrassment, anger, and sorrow. But he wasn't surprised by the disturbance. I could tell. How I could read him so well, I had no clue, but I knew.
“Killian?” I asked, not taking my eyes off him.
He glared at the door. “It’s my...” he stopped and then looked at me. His shoulders slumped, as he finally relented with whatever mental decision he was wrestling with. “...It’s my parents.”
He moved his laptop and stalked out of the room without a word. I blinked. Okay. I guess Killian was going to have a word with Mommy and Daddy dearest. My eyes strayed to his laptop. It was like mine but better.
I picked it up and couldn’t resist the drool that slipped from my mouth. Shiny. I touched the keys feeling envious. I wish I had something nice like this. My drool fell and splattered onto the keys. I hurriedly wiped away the wet spot now remembering why I couldn’t have anything nice. I rubbed it away and my fingers pressed down on a sequence of keys. A minimized window sprung to life. I read the top line on the screen: THE JOURNAL OF KILLIAN MORRIS.
“He has a fracking journal?!” I asked the air. “How Elena Gilbert of him.”
I knew I should minimize the screen and put the laptop back. But I was so curious. Who had a freaking journal these days, well besides the main character from The Vampire Diaries. The cursor was blinking next to the latest entry.
I’m having so many weird feelings. I don’t know what I should do about them. It’s becoming too much sometimes. I don’t want to feel like this but I do. I can accept it but... I just wish I had somebody I could talk to about this... my friends... I just wish.
I had another dream last night. It was... It was about the usual...
light.
“What the fuck are you doing!”
Killian raced forward like a goddamn ninja and snatched the laptop from my hands, slamming it closed, glaring at me with nothing but fury and contempt. Was that fear too?
“I wasn’t looking at anything!” I lied. I needed to calm him down first before admitting to reading a bit of his journal.
He clutched the laptop to his chest as if it were a lifeline. He looked ready to blow. I was getting scared. Not for me. But for him. This was starting to remind me of the ending of Carrie. I was just waiting for the pig’s blood to drop down and the door to telekinetically lock.
“Get out,” he whispered so quietly I could barely hear him.
I started to speak but he interrupted me. “Get out!”
I swore the windows rattled at the shout. I didn’t need to be told twice. I tore out of his room like someone yelled clearance sale outside. I raced downstairs and didn’t stop when the butler tried to ask me what’s wrong, probably rude, but I had definitely overstayed my welcome.
I jumped into the Blazer and sped the fuck off. Miraculously the cops didn't pull me over before making it home. I lay on my bed staring at the white speckled ceiling. I could still feel my heart racing from the incident. My eyes closed and body sagged with exhaustion. I was pulled into the lands of dreams before I could realize it.
“Apollo!” I yelled, screaming over the explosions Admerion was causing across the field.
The Executioner jogged to my side, his mouth set in grim line. “I still have not found him. I'm beginning to get worried, Emrys.”
He was more than worried if he addressed me by my mortal name while in our warrior form. Our white tunics were stained with black blood and chain mail no longer gleamed silver, but a drab gray and dirty brown from the muddy ground.
“We shall find him,” I assured him, hiding my worry behind a face of bravery. I turned away and called, “Apollo!”
We shall.
I snapped awake jolting up in my bed. “Apollo?” I murmured. “What happened to you?”
I checked my phone and it was past nine o’clock at night. I looked out of the window and sure enough, the sun had long ago set. I had been asleep for hours. It sure didn’t feel like it. Yawning I made my way downstairs. Mom was in the living room asleep on the couch with the TV on. I smiled. She only did that when she was really tired. I turned the TV off and pulled the blanket off the sofa arm and draped it over her sleeping form.
Sweet dreams. Somebody in this house needed them.
I knew what I had to do. I was sure sighing a lot today like some character in a Lifetime movie of the week. I left the house and jumped in my Blazer making my way back to Falcon’s Lair Estates, and Killian’s house.
I pulled back into the same parking spot from earlier. I walked up the sidewalk then gave myself a little mental pep talk. Come on, Summers, you can do this. Even if he doesn’t accept it I still needed to apologize. It was my fault for snooping through his stuff like Scooby Doo. No more hesitating and bracing myself I rang the doorbell. It was once again opened by the butler.
He smiled that grandfatherly smile but I could see it was tinged with worry. “I thought that you might be back.”
“I was wondering if Killian was home?” I asked politely. “I really need to see him.”
The butler shook his head. “I’m sorry but the young sir is not home.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a surprising thud of disappointment. “Well, uh, thank you, sir.”
I turned around and began to walk down the sidewalk, just as loud a “Wait!” came from the doorway.
“He’s at The Door,” the butler called out. “It’s a teen club downtown. He likes to go there after a bad day sometimes.”
“Thank you!” I beamed, waving and jogging off to my car.
I had an apology to make.
“Tell me why I’m here again?” Ryan asked from the Blazer's passenger seat, tapping at the map directions on the nav system.
“You're my co-pilot!” I said in a duh tone. “I need someone to read the directions and plus I’ve never been to a club before, and I’m not going alone. And you have super strength just in case we need to knock some bitches out.”
Ryan cocked his head. “Knock some bitches out?”
I shrugged. “You never know at the clubs downtown... or at least that’s what the news says.”
He snorted. “Well, the directions say we make a left at this light and we’re there. All we need to do is find a parking spot.”
“Oh, there’s one!” I yelled, swerving into a parking lot, missing a sedan exiting by a hair's breadth as my tires squealed against the pavement.
“We’re going to die!” Ryan screamed. His were glasses halfway down his nose and eyes blown wide.
Not sparing him a glance as I sped into a parking space the car lurched to a sharp halt that had us jerking forward in our seats. I cut the engine and smirked.
“You can stop screaming like the token slut in a bad horror movie.”
Ryan gaped at me as I hopped out of the Blazer. I tuned him out as he ranted about the merits of good driving and making the roads safe for everyone. I took Drivers Ed. I watched Blood on the Asphalt in the classroom. I knew friends didn’t let friends drive drunk or was it friends didn’t let friends drive crunk? I slept for a good portion of the class.
The Door was easy to find. It was in a building on the corner of the club strip that people liked to Deep Regent. Regent was the name of the street and all the clubs ran deep down the street, so Deep Regent. Clever. I know.
We stepped up to a little window that was beside the closed door. A muscular guy that made the Hulk look like a preteen stood next to the window. He eyed us up and down as if checking off any physical feature that would put us below the age limit.
“You got ID, One Direction?” he asked in a gruff baritone.
We handed them off and he studied the cards like a jewelry appraiser eyes diamonds. He looked at my picture then up at me. Down and then up. Down then up. I frowned. He gave our licenses back after a brief hesitation.
“Were you really that happy in the picture?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I blushed. In my license picture, I’m smiling really huge like I just won the lottery. Back then I did. I had gained the right to legally drive. It was the teenage version of a grand prize.
“I guess so,” I shrugged. “It was a good day.”
The guy rolled his eyes. Bitch! “That'll be twenty dollars, Malibu Ken. For the both of you.”
We handed him ten each and he opened the door for us. I was immediately assaulted by a loud bass line of music and a blast of central air. The floor literally shook with the force of the bass and dancing bodies. I looked around feeling out of place among the dancing teenagers. I wasn’t a person who was comfortable dancing in a crowd unless there was a large group of friends with me. It was just how I rolled.
“Hey!” I said, yelling over the music so Ryan could hear and pointed to a set of stairs leading up to a balcony. “Let's go up there! Maybe we can get away from the crowd and spot Killian easier!”
Ryan nodded already knowing that if he replied his voice would just become drowned out. We were too close to the speakers. It was impossible to hear anything unless it was at a scream. We went up to the balcony and I searched the mass of people. Ryan was the first to spot him, enhanced senses at work.
“There he goes,” Ryan said pointing. “Do you see him dancing with the redhead?”
I followed his finger. He was right. There was Killian, body moving in time with a redhead that moved as if she wanted single bills shoved down the thong that rode up the top of her jeans. I blinked. Who knew Killian could dance like that? Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t starting to like him like that. No way. No how. But I could recognize good dancing when I saw it.
“That’s odd,” Ryan muttered, staring hard at the dance floor. “Look at that.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Ryan motioned. "Look."
Then I saw what he was talking about. It was odd. Around the room girls and boys, who seemed to be by themselves were being pulled along by older teens. Each person doing the leading was breathtakingly beautiful. Pale skin, striking features, and smiles that were both alluring and seductive made me weak in the knees even from up here. I looked intently at the girl dancing with Killian and she radiated the same grace and beauty.
“They’re leading people who are alone away from the crowd,” Ryan said, his voice growing deeper, thoughtful. The Executioner showing through into his mortal form. “They’re all leaving through that door. It must lead to another room. It can’t lead outside.”
“So maybe a private party room?” I guessed.
Ryan nodded, thoughtfully. “I think you’re right. I’m more concerned about Killian right now than anything. The girl is leading him off just like the others.”
“You think they’re preternatural?” I asked.
He nodded still eyeing the redhead leading Killian to the side door. “I can feel it. The way they look, the way they move. They’re entirely too graceful to be human. Their beauty is a way to lure in victims. They’re predators, plain and simple.”
I shuddered at his grave yet knowing tone. He sounded so sure. “They seem familiar but I can’t put my finger on it.”
Ryan looked at me, his gaze all Executioner. “They’re vampires.”
All we needed was one shared look before we took off down the stairs going for the side door. I took point and opened the door vaguely noticing Ryan shutting it behind us. The room was huge obviously used for private parties or similar events. At the far end of was over a dozen people surrounded by the unnaturally beautiful people, the vampires. There was a lot of them. I didn’t know if we could take them all just the two of us. We might be in trouble. I came to as laughter started to bubble up from the vampires circling the group of visibly frightened teens.
One by one the vampires faces twisted, canine teeth lengthening and eyes taking on an unearthly blaze. Their skin began radiating an ethereal glow as their hair moved in a sudden breeze. The room erupted into chaos and screams.
Ryan nodded at me and I got the clue. Silently we accessed that part of ourselves that made us Chosen, that well of energy where the power rested. It filled us to the brim and our clothes shifted into our uniforms, the black suits of enchanted armor that nothing of modern technology could hope to duplicate.
“You ready?” asked the Executioner.
“Let’s do this.” I flexed my hand and fire to appeared in my palm. “Fireball!
It soared through the air and caught a vampire in the back. A shriek of agony erupted before dying off as the vampire collapsed into dust. The entire room looked at us standing at the end of the room. I gave a wave and smirked.
“Can anyone join this party?” I asked forming another fireball, tossing it up and then catching it, all the while smirking.
The Executioner grinned. “Or is it invite only?”
If the situation wasn't dire I would have slapped Ryan a high five. We had the buddy cop movie banter down. The vampires turned to us, a collective hiss echoing through the room. I almost took a step back from the look of hatred and disgust aimed our way.
“The Chosen,” hissed the redhead that held Killian’s arm in a vice grip.
I knew that grip had to be painful. I could see Killian was trying hard not to cry out from the vice grip. The look of hate was slowly replaced by hunger and it was making me nervous. A vampire stepped forward and I reacted instinctively.
“Fireball!” I panicked, throwing the attack on pure reflex.
The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust. A heartbeat later the other vampires moved as one, some diving into the crowd of teenagers and the rest sped toward us. It was about to get real Mortal Kombat around here. I dodged a punch and kicked out catching a vampire in the torso, knocking him into the half dozen goons at his back.
I enchanted the leap of faith spell and jumped away from a trio of growling vampires. I soared through the air and landed near the gathered mass of horrified teenagers. I sent fireballs into the chests of the vampires holding them captive. I dusted another one that tried to feed on a hysterical blond girl. They looked at me, blinking stupefied, once I freed them.
“Go! Run!” I yelled, pointing at the exit door.
They took the hint and ran for it. A couple of vampires grabbed at some of the escaping people. I needed some help here. The Executioner, unfortunately, had his hands full. He was going against half a dozen vampires and holding his own well but I knew that he couldn’t keep that up forever. We needed to end this. Something knocked me in the back of the head and my vision swam as I collapsed to my knees. The room wouldn't stop spinning. I squinted up as Killian appeared swinging a chair at the vampire closing in on me for the kill.
“Stay back, you fucking freak!” Killian shouted, swinging the wooden chair like a madman.
The vampire was a tall male that looked eighteen but was no doubt older than that. He sneered at Killian and laughed. His hand shot out with a speed that my eyes couldn’t follow. The chair was slapped away and Killian went down at the hit. His head slammed hard against the ground. He stayed there on the floor. He didn't move again.
My heart stopped. "Killian!"
Time stopped as my mind suddenly sparked and something within my soul clicked. I was dragged into a memory. A memory from my past life.
Flicker.
”Apollo!”
I could not find him. Where could he be? Could that explosion had – no, thoughts like that were useless. I could not envision being a team without Apollo. He was a link in our chain that could never be replaced.
“There!” the Executioner shouted. “Warlock, do you see him?”
I ran toward the still form. Gods, there was so much blood. Was all of it his? I fell to my knees at his side and the starbursts of exploding power in the distance no longer registered to my senses. The Executioner dropped down beside me
“I can hear his heartbeat,” he said, sighing in relief. “He’s alive.”
I touched Apollo and there was a groan as he moved. His eyes fluttered open and the mist that once obscured his face from my memory cleared, revealing bright green eyes and hair that was neither blond nor red, but a mix of both. I knew this person my soul told my mind finally putting a face to the mystery person. I knew him in this life as well as the last.
“You did not think that blast would be rid of me?” Apollo murmured, his voice weak but teasing, a pained smile on his face.
I squeezed his hand, glad my friend was back. “Never. Where would I be without my best friend.”
Flicker.
Time resumed and I found myself back in my body. It couldn’t be! But it was. Apollo. Killian. Killian. Apollo. They were one and the same. Wait. Killian used to be my best friend? Get a grip. Summers. There wasn't time for thinking like that! I closed my eyes and touched my power. My magic exploded outward throwing the vampires gathering around me into the four corners of the room. I crawled to Killian’s side. He was conscious. His unfocused gaze watched me as I kneeled at his side.
“Killian?”
He tried to move away, his expression becoming panicked. “Get away from me! What the hell-”
I shushed him. “Listen! Now is not the time. You might not remember me but I remember you. Here's where you have to make a choice. Do you want the life you’ve been leading or do you want to realize who you really are?”
He didn’t even hesitate. It was almost like he knew this was coming.
“Show me who I am. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I was startled but there was no time for questions. I needed to do this quickly before we all became vamp food. I placed my index finger on his brow between his eyelids and concentrated. I reached into his soul and touched that part of himself that had been sealed off after reincarnating. I gave it a nudge and released the seal with a spark of power. Our eyes opened simultaneously and he jerked with such a force that I fell back.
I gasped at the sight before me after I recovered. Standing in front of me was Killian, but not. He was now dressed in the same lightweight black armor that I and the Executioner wore. But whereas I wore a hooded cloak and the Executioner a duster, Killian sported a short, hip length jacket, black and fitted nicely showing off his form. On his face was a black visor that wrapped around his eyes. Killian pulled it up to rest on the top of his head.
He gave me a confused smile as he helped me up. “Emrys? Warlock?”
I nodded wondering how much did he remember. “It's been a long time, Apollo. We need to dust these vampires first then I’ll explain everything.”
The expression of confusion was replaced by a look of duty. He knew what he had to do. He was a warrior first and foremost and nothing would change that. It was why we were Chosen.
“Vampires were always my specialty,” he said more to himself than me. Killian raised his arms so they pointed out, fingers splayed. I gave a start as pinpoints of light began gathering at his fingertips. They grew brighter and bigger until I couldn’t look directly at them without being blinded.
“DAWN...”
The pinpoints grew impossibly brighter in intensity. Killian tilted his head and the visor slid down from his head landing perfectly on his face.
“BRINGER!”
The attack shot from his fingers at the speed of light. The beams traveled the room, splitting and multiplying, hitting every vampire in range. The beams ripped through their bodies setting them aflame briefly before they disintegrated into ash. The beams that didn’t catch a vampire scorched the walls where they hit turning the spots black as tar. The bystanders had fled and the Executioner and I both had the sense to get the fuck to the floor, ducking as if our lives depended on it. Hell, they did.
The beams fizzled out and in the silence that followed there was nothing left of the vampires except smoking piles of ash and blood on the floor. We rose to our feet and surveyed the room. I had to give him credit where it was due. I can see why vampires were his specialty.
We looked at the newest Chosen and he turned to us, his eyes unreadable through his visor.
“I am Apollo,” he murmured, dazed. “No, I’m Killian. That’s my name. I was Apollo.” He said thoughtfully, coming to a decision. “That’s who I was but I still am. I can feel it.” He looked at us solemnly. “I was once called Solaris, the champion of light.”
Champion of light indeed.
I licked my lips. “We should leave. And then we have a lot to talk about.”
Plus, I needed Tylenol.
Killian, a Chosen? I could feel a headache coming on.
- 25
- 10
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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