CHAPTER 20

Nika

"I don't like it," I heard Bear Claw grumble in my head, agitated the entire way over to the house where I first discovered my power. "This is a trap, stupid girl. A big one. Silas should know better than to bring you here."

It was odd how Salvator was the most vocal of the three about my safety, and had been for nearly an hour during his long-winded rant. I didn't think the tribesman had it in him to talk as much as he had in the last hour, but for some reason, this entire situation made him excessively vocal.

Not that I was listening. I still didn't trust him.

Except, I couldn't explain how I knew Bear Claw's concern wasn't born simply out of self-preservation, or how the fear that collected in my body was his and not mine, but I did. The longer the three men were in my head, blending with my thoughts, wandering through my past, present, and potential future, I was getting better at telling them apart.

I sensed their distinct differences, their wants, their intentions, and nearly all of their emotions. The same way I was confident about my own feelings on a lot of things, I was perfectly in tune with theirs. The only time I struggled was when they were also confused by how they felt about whatever was being discussed.

Like how I knew before the other two said anything that Ryker was on the same page with Bear Claw, but Tometi didn't know what to think. The bear was protective, fearful even, but he trusted what I'd seen in the dream the same way I did. And his confidence in me was powerful and a throbbing presence in my head.

"I hate to agree with him, but I feel the same way, Nika. This smells like a trap devised by all those Brotherhood asshats," Ryker chimed in, his thunderous wolf growl echoing in my ears.

It always made me smile a little when the wolf cursed in his saucy way. Odd for a wolf but somehow fitting for the Ryker I'd come to know.

"Someone back from the After can do things you never thought possible. Rilas could disguise himself as anything, friend or family. That demon's powers easily rival yours as a Soul Collector, and I'd be very careful trusting what you see, hear, or even feel right now. Until we know what he can do, we're vulnerable to attack."

"I just literally said all of that, wolf. Weren't you listening the last, I don't know, fucking hour I talked?!" Bear Claw complained, huffing.

I heard the wolf sigh, the sound rippling out and then dissipating like it never existed. Completely ignoring Salvator, Ryker continued his thought, "I can't even be sure I'd smell the difference on whoever waits for you inside or I'd suggest transforming. Unfortunately, you still haven't learned how to manage your power consumption, and it'd be ill-advised to make you more vulnerable right now."

Tometi had stayed relatively quiet since I woke up from the dream, but his presence was always the strongest in my head. It tickled across my forehead and down my neck, the warmest and most welcoming sensation of the three. "The two of them, there's something there we don't see. I sensed it when Silas touched her in the bathroom. I think we're underestimating what Bane knew, and my gut tells me that while separately they may not stand a chance against a soul like Rilas resurrected from the After...together, mountains will move."

Silence grew, no one speaking in the seconds after Tometi uttered his thoughts with a confidence befitting my father. Maybe the two had crossed paths at some point. But one thing was clear, Tometi respected and perhaps even revered Silas. Bear Claw wasn't a fan, and Ryker seemed rather neutral about my companion. But whenever Tometi referred to Silas, his respect overpowered every other feeling.

It was odd to feel and discern the difference between three men in my head, but I'd started to pick up on it as easily as I did my own thoughts and emotions. So it didn't feel weird addressing them, standing in front of the house where I hoped I'd find my father's soul.

I know it was my father in that dream, I told the men in my head, confident I wasn't wrong. Father came to me the way he always did, and he needed me. In my gut, I was sure of it. He's waiting for me. This feels like another piece of fate falling into place. I have to chance it because anyone using or controlling my father is out of the fucking question.

If I didn't get to him, Silas's evil brother would. I couldn't be sure what I fought should the two of us cross paths, but something told me that my father's every action led me to this moment—to this place—and I couldn't run away from fate. My father sacrificed himself so I could be here.

My throat seized, but I promised myself I wouldn't cry anymore. I'd cried all the tears I could. Now was the moment for action. For vengeance.

I'd collect my father's soul to make sure he found his way to the other side if it was the last fucking thing I did. To reunite him with Mother whom he'd mourned since her murder. And if I survived this, I'd find Dugan if he hadn't perished by my father's side and tell him what happened. It was the least I could do for the man who picked up the pieces of my father's broken heart after my mother's death nearly destroyed him.

I stared at the house, standing next to Silas whose magic was already doing its usual sweep, looking for anything dangerous that might be lurking, waiting, eager to destroy us both.

When the blue sparkly mist returned, the Fae beside me hummed low in his throat. "I don't sense anything here, princess." His golden eyes flitted over to me searchingly. "Maybe it was just a dream?"

But I knew better.

The beckoning sensation was there, seeking, calling, waiting, so I shook my head and started for the front door. Silas wasn't far behind, his boots hitting the asphalt until the sound stopped. I pivoted just as an explosive and intense feeling hit the air, electrifying it and alluding to unfathomable danger.

The mercenary's eyes caught mine before we were surrounded by three cloaked figures. Fear hit Silas's expression before his usual smarmy look replaced it. The mask was in his hand, but he hadn't put it on. Almost as if he was taunting the lot. Grinning before he fitted the mask into place, the oversized Fae threw his arms out like he was introducing a show and blue magic burst out of him in spikes, sending the other three into action.

Magical walls built up around us, our combined magic working to block and protect. My pink power flittered and exploded before I twisted and landed a boot on one of our attackers who tried to get the jump on me. Hands caught my foot, twisting, and I effortlessly spun through the air and freed myself of their hold before my pink magic erupted out of me, washing forward in a great burst their direction. It nearly hit them, but they deflected it just as easily.

When I lifted my eyes, leveling them on my attacker, my heart was a dangerous pound in my ears. Reaper loomed, his masked face giving nothing away. All I could see were his blood-red eyes which were a violent beam behind a ghost-white mask. His head tilted to the side, as if he were studying me, and then he removed his blade from an all-black cloak, its shiny metal catching the moonlight.

Combat was where I excelled, so I wouldn't be afraid. They'd never get that from me. Tonight, I fought for my life. For my future. For revenge.

I removed the clear dagger Silas gave me that burned from the inside out and another my father gifted me years ago. It seemed fitting to use both for a fight against bastards who'd ruined both of those men's lives.

If I could land one hit, I'd kill him, assuming that was all it took with a blood magic tainted soul like this Brotherhood bastard. Likely it wasn't. Even if Reaper got a hit on me, it wasn't likely that any poison they used would conquer me. Slow down, maybe, but not kill.

We both stared each other down, ignoring the shouts and fighting behind us, knowing it was a mistake for either of us to look away for even a second. Maybe the bastard thought I'd use my power on him. Maybe he considered letting me try. But I didn't want that asshole in my head even if it meant ending this quickly. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with his black-stained soul.

Reaper moved like a monster in the dark—a visual distortion of himself and always one step ahead, slicing out his katana which was the length of my torso. With ease, I dodged and ducked, twirling and striking out to return every attack.

We both moved as if we were caught in a dance, countering and striking in perfect sync. When I realized he'd likely use his clairvoyance to stay one step ahead, I started to act on impulse and not judgment. A clairvoyant could be overcome by impulsive fighting and not calculated moves, so nothing I did was planned or thought out after that. Which saved my neck a few times, if I were honest.

Even with the Brotherhood asshole severing his last earthly tie, my body moved faster, matching his movements with ease and staying just out of reach. Reaper didn't seem to use magic at all in a fight, so I figured out quickly he relied on his clairvoyance and weapons more than any other abilities.

Vapor, I assumed since his body never fully formed and moved like a ghost between the two of us, was a patterned fighter despite his appearance. Like Reaper, he wore an all-white mask. They all did. Silas was the only one in a mask that was as black as the world around him save his silver eyes piercing through.

Luckily, my quick brain broke down Vapor's movements well before the third attack he made on me, anticipating every single one. Even if I hadn't, Silas seemed to find his way between us when he wasn't otherwise occupied with the assassin whose gaze could blind.

Silas lived up to his name. He spirited from one spot to the next, a sparkling vision of deadly attacks. Night Stalker and Vapor were no match for the relentless movement of his blade and magic, and in minutes, they went from offensive attacks full of confidence to defensive fighting to keep their heads attached to their necks.

If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say neither one thought after all this time, after years outside the Brotherhood and their dip into darkness, that Silas would prove as strong, as capable, and as absolutely lethal as he once did.

And how wrong they were.

If I hadn't been so preoccupied with not dying tonight, I might've spent a second being impressed by the sheer skill involved to overpower not one but two opponents whose capabilities one could argue exceeded a group of Fae serving in the Dark Fae's military force.

Night Stalker took a brutal hit, and Vapor was suddenly trapped in a circle of Silas's sparkling magic. My powerful companion's eyes cut over to me, a cute thumbs up aimed at me like we were in the middle of a game and not a deadly, fate-sealing battle. But just as quickly, Silas stiffened, and the humor was stolen from him in a single breath.

I wasn't given time to figure out why.

The voices in my head were screaming—a chorus of beastly calls that carried an eerie warning in their sound. A shudder slammed into me, nearly taking me off my feet with the oppressive power of it, and I turned, dagger already against someone's throat, prepared to kill or be killed.

The mirror image of the man who, only hours ago held me while I cried a lifetime worth of tears, met my eyes when I lifted them to my enemy. But instead of silver, my attacker's irises were a staggering blood-red color, and his hair was so black that it matched the darkness around us.

Rilas.

"I've finally found you, my Fated One," was all the red-eyed villain said before the resonating growls in my head and my father's voice, distorted and muffled, cried out for me.

The world came to a shuddering halt. Every other person was frozen mid-movement and trapped in time, then all three of the Brotherhood assassins were covered in slow-growing ice, their skin bleeding color, mouths dropped open and souls escaping. It was the exact same event as what took place the day I collected Bear Claw's soul.

But something was different.

I wasn't in control like I had been that day. The sensation in the air was far more sinister, entrenched in darkness and fear. It wasn't the feeling of relief in my gut like when everything came swooping into place, saving me from certain death.

Thiswas death. Rilas was Death.

"Get the fuck out of there, Nika!" I heard Salvator yell loudly in my head, but I couldn't move.

I was frozen alongside the rest—a victim to the event taking place the same way Silas and the other three were. Intense fear coated my throat. I couldn't swallow or whisper a sound. Nothing moved or reacted. Other than the voices in my head, my magic and skill were imprisoned in this step out of moving time.

I tried desperately to move my arms, but no matter what I did or how hard I willed them to break free of whatever hold he had over me, I stood deathly still, captive to the same fate as the other four.

Rilas's expression danced with devilish delight, and he dispassionately eyed his brother, whose body expressed a violent rage, fear, and desperation to get to me.

But he never would.

Unfortunately for me, it appeared that only Rilas and I were aware this entire thing was taking place. No one else seemed conscious of the terrible soul-stealing moment. I was alone in this window of frozen time with Rilas, Silas's evil twin. I was his captive. His to kill or consume—or whatever it was demons did to their prey.

Fucking fantastic.

I watched the eerie white tendrils of the Brotherhood's tainted souls flee the three men's mouths, terrified that Silas was among them, but for some reason my companion wasn't covered in ice or surrendering his soul like the rest. The skin along his arms was still gorgeously golden and his eyes still the beautifully haunting silver I'd come to know. Most importantly, his soul wasn't anywhere in sight.

Instead of coming to me, the souls circled and gyrated their way over to Silas's resurrected brother who never looked away from me. His red eyes glided down my body, taking in every inch, owning it with languid, powerful swipes, so confident I'd never be able to fight back. But he didn't know me at all. I'd never stand here and be his victim. Inside, I was fighting and clawing to break free. I wouldn't stop until he killed me.

Everything about Silas's brother was darker, more sinister, dripping with malicious intent. Nothing about him seemed even remotely kind or redeeming. Without a doubt, I couldn't reason with him. The After had marked and branded his soul, and from what I knew, his darkness would only be amplified by the resurrection.

Confusion distracted me, leading me to plead with the voices in my head for answers, but Rilas clicked his tongue and huffed an angry sigh. "Clever little thing you are to bind your souls," the villain muttered under his breath, jaw clenching with rage.

The white tendrils snaked around the Dark Fae and fed into his body, one after the other, absorbed by his chest the same way it had with me. I was staggered by the sight, not sure whether this was his power or just one of the many things he could do. This power alone was terrifying all on its own.

I couldn't question what the asshole meant by "bind your souls" because I was still held hostage to frozen time and couldn't move my mouth to speak. All I could do was breathe.

My enemy's beaming red eyes slid down to where I stood, frozen with my dagger at his neck, ready to take his head clear off when I got the ability to move back. "It won't matter in the end. You were always meant to be mine, Nika. I'll find some way to tear your souls apart, and I'll make sure to torture and kill that bloody bastard brother of mine right in front of you after I do."

What stared at me wasn't a Fae or even alive; it was evil trapped in a vessel that had once been Silas's brother. This was what humans called a demon. Much like what humans believed, our demons were created out of the darkest evil. Powerful beings who surrendered their souls in exchange for power.

I wasn't clear on much, but it made more sense that my grandmother was called a demon by the Dark Fae Society if she too collected souls. A power like ours would convince anyone we were demons in disguise. Fated for darkness. The After's hand of death. Evil disguised by beauty. It also explained why my parents were forced to keep my ability locked away. As the Dark Fae told it, anyone deemed a demon would only bring death and destruction to our world, and any story featuring them always ended with millions of lives lost.

I'm trapped here with a fucking demon, and I can't even spit my usual sass at the asshole. I'm going to die without telling him to fuck right off to the Underworld.

"You're not alone," Bear Claw grumbled loudly.

I never thought I'd find comfort in my assassin's voice or the fact that I had three men living in my head, but it was nice to think I wouldn't die here alone, silenced by my enemy.

"You're not going to die, Nika. You need to call on your power. Seek out your father's soul. You know he's nearby. Bring him to you. Bane can help you break free. He was a terrifying opponent, and his powers could aid in your escape. If anyone can overpower this Dark motherfucker, it's you, little Fae," Bear Claw lectured, his confidence in me radiating in every word. "As much as I hate to admit it, Tometi's right. You and Silas have something Rilas and the others didn't anticipate. Your souls are bound. Even as powerful as he is, Rilas can't break it, and it's clear he doesn't want to kill you. That'd ruin all his world-conquering plans with a queen by his side. The asshole had grand dreams, that's for sure. So you have the upper hand here. You're in control. Use your fucking power, Nika."

The air around Rilas was permanently icy and trapped with the souls of the lives he'd stolen. I could sense them, hear their pain-filled wails, and could practically feel their agony crawling over my naked flesh. Thousands of victims held captive to his greed, and the darkness of it all lived in the air around him. Despite being trapped like they were, I was certain I'd be the one to free them from their prison.

It was another click of fate, another piece falling into place, and I was no longer afraid.

An echo hit my body, and I heard my father's voice calling out to me, but this time a woman's voice was laced in with his, "Let us in, darling girl," they said in unison. "Do it now."

I didn't immediately recognize her voice, didn't understand why the tone made my throat hurt and eyes burn, but as if freed from the chains holding me down, I finally breathed and opened myself to them.

Powerful sensation flooded my body, bringing movement to my limbs and heat to the air. Rilas's glowing red eyes widened before he clicked his tongue and disappeared, fleeing when he should fight. Coward. But then the world around us moved. I couldn't sense the men in my head, but I was cut off from thought when Silas barreled his way over, taking me by the shoulders and looking me over as if he expected I'd be covered in wounds.

"I'm not even going to get into what just happened, little rebel," the mercenary rambled, peeking over his shoulder at our frozen enemies, "but I nearly cut my own heart out when that fucking demon posing as Rilas showed up. What did he do to you? How'd you get him to go? Did you...take their souls?"

I swallowed, not ready to say the words out loud. "No." Silas sighed a little, relieved. But only for a second because my next words put the fear right back into his expression. "Rilas did."