Read Haze Online

Authors: Paula Weston

Tags: #Fantasy, #Romance

Haze (35 page)

Ez moves to his side, smacks his legs with cupped hands, tells him to calm down. Mick gags—either from the shift or the stench of Joffa’s smoking flesh.

‘Get the medics,’ Daniel orders. There’s a flicker in the shadows at the back of the room. Doors open and close.

‘I need to get this under running water,’ Ez says. A second later they’re both gone.

Mya and Zak return within half a second of each other bringing more men, Woosha among them, and the smell of blood and cordite.

‘That’s it,’ Mya says to nobody in particular.

‘What do you mean?’ Simon sits back on his heels, his face mottled.

‘No one else survived.’

Simon drops his head. Above him, on the opposite wall, an enormous oil painting hangs: a chaotic battle scene in muted reds and browns, shining warrior angels slaughtering sinewy demons with black wings. My stomach roils. I lean back against Jude.

‘How did they find us?’

Daniel walks in front of us, back and forth. His eyes are distant. ‘They shouldn’t have been able to track us.’

It takes a few seconds for his words to sink through the fog. And then I understand: Taya was bitten by a hellion up the mountain the night we got Maggie back—a hellion that then lost half an arm when I got in a lucky blow.

‘The hell-beast…’

‘What?’ Jude says. ‘Gab?’

It must have still had Taya’s taste.

‘How could you not think of that?’ I’m aware that I’m speaking loudly, that my voice is thin, shrill. All the Gatekeepers had to do was wait for her to turn up in Pan Beach and then put the beast on the scent when she left town tonight. Rafa telling me that Pan Beach wasn’t safe slides into my mind, drags through my body.

‘It was four days ago.’ Daniel’s voice is bleak now. ‘They’ve never tracked us past three.’

That’s how they knew we were at the farmhouse earlier today too. The hellion must have caught Taya’s scent across the cornfield.

Heavy doors beyond the marble columns open and men in brown robes hurry in, carrying stretchers and black leather bags with white crosses stitched into them. Their heads are shaved, their faces calm. They surround the men on the floor, wordlessly check their wounds.

‘What the fuck…?’ Mick rasps when a monk kneels beside him.

‘Don’t speak to the brothers,’ Zak says.

‘Where are they taking them?’ I can’t stop shaking. It could be the cold or shock. Or both.

‘The infirmary,’ Daniel says.

I have a flash of sterile white walls, blinding pain.

‘We have trained medical staff. They’re in good hands.’

‘And then what?’

‘That’s for the Council of Five to discuss.’

Another monk comes in, carrying a stack of blankets. Jude meets him halfway across the room. The monk stares at him—shocked—and allows him to take two.

Jude wraps one around my shoulders, takes the other for himself. The wool smells of incense and jasmine. It should be comforting. It’s not.

And then my skin begins to tingle. Jude looks at his hands, confused.

The doors fall closed again and Nathaniel steps into the chapterhouse. His cold gaze sweeps over me. Then he sees Jude. His chest rises and falls, once, twice. Jude stands up, lets his blanket slide to the floor.

Jude stares at the fallen angel. Was this what he was expecting? Someone who doesn’t look much older than us? Who could have been another backpacker—albeit better dressed and with eyes that don’t belong to this world?

Nathaniel crosses the expansive room but stops before he reaches us. He looks from Jude to me, back to Jude.

‘Gatekeepers ambushed us,’ Daniel says. ‘Rafa and Taya were taken.’

‘Dead or alive?’

Nathaniel’s calm. How can he be so fucking calm? I want to scream at him, slap him until he’s as horrified as the rest of us.

‘Badly injured but still alive. Zarael was there.’

Nathaniel nods. ‘Call the Council together.’ He turns to the Outcasts. ‘Mya, Zachariah. Gather your people and come home. Gabriella, call the lost Rephaite here.’

Oh god, Jason and Maggie.

Woosha moans as the monks lift him onto a stretcher. His shoulder is dislocated and the bandage around his hand is already soaked dark. I’m not sure he has all his fingers. Simon is up from the floor, being led out. He looks at me over his shoulder on his way out, needing reassurance. I’ve got none to give him.

Mick finds me as Rusty helps him to his feet. ‘You fucking people…’ A monk tries to steer him towards the door but Mick knocks the pale hand away. ‘I can walk.’ He takes a step and his legs buckle. Rusty grabs him before his knees hit the stones.

‘Come on,’ Rusty says. ‘We need to stay with the boys.’ He catches my eye as he turns. ‘Your man’s the toughest prick I’ve ever seen. If anyone can survive those mongrels, it’s him.’

Ez reappears, tired and drained. She nods at Nathaniel but doesn’t speak.

Mya moves into the space between them.

‘We don’t need your protection, Nathaniel,’ she says. ‘Zarael has never come close to finding our safe houses and we’ve managed to hide from
you
for a decade.’

Nathaniel remains impassive. ‘Zarael will torture Rafael and Taya for information. We need to prepare for the possibility one or both might break.’

‘That won’t happen.’ I say it without thinking.

Everyone turns to me.

‘Rafa’s too strong and Taya’s too loyal. But you know that.’ It’s an effort to keep my voice steady. ‘You need to do something, Nathaniel. We know where they are—we can take you there right now.’

‘I am not invincible, Gabriella.’

‘With enough of us storming the farmhouse, we’d get to Rafa and Taya before—’

‘Gabriella.’

I stop, wipe my eyes. I hadn’t even realised I was crying.

‘This is the first time in a hundred and forty years we have known exactly where Zarael is. It may be the first time his entire horde has been in a single location. We may never get another opportunity—’

‘You just said they’d be tortured!’ My voice echoes off the ancient walls. ‘I know you’re angry at Rafa, but’—my voice breaks—‘what about Taya?’

‘I care about both of them more than you could ever comprehend. But if we rush in and fail, Zarael will kill them. Any attack must be meticulously planned. We will only get one chance.’

‘This is so typical.’ The arches loom over Mya. She looks so much smaller in here. ‘We can’t sit on our hands here while you and the Five work up a battle plan. I know how long that takes. We’ll go in on our own if we have to.’

I stand up, shaky. ‘Count me in.’

‘Me too,’ Jude says.

Nathaniel’s eyes flash. He’s angry. About time.

‘Before you do anything reckless, bring the others here.’

‘Why?’ Mya asks.

‘Because this is the only place safe for any of you right now.’

‘This place is no safer than anywhere else and you know it.’

‘Mya—’

‘Stop manipulating us! You haven’t learned a thing—’

‘The Sanctuary is protected.’

She falters. ‘What?’

‘There is a reason it has that name,’ Nathaniel says. ‘Demons cannot come here.’

For a few seconds, the chapterhouse is silent.

‘How is that possible?’ Zak moves next to Mya.

‘There are ways to ward against demons.’

A storm builds under my ribs. ‘You knew about the iron, didn’t you?’

Nathaniel doesn’t respond and I look to Daniel. For a second his mask slips and I see his confusion. This is news to him too.

‘Nathaniel.’ Sound moves strangely in here; it’s stretched thin, echoey.

‘It is true, Gabriella.’ Nathaniel looks only at me, avoiding the others. Even Daniel. ‘The Garrison has always known how to bless ancient metals to prevent demon manifestation. Until today, I was not aware a similar ward could be used to inhibit Rephaite movement. We have barely started questioning Virginia of Iowa, but we must assume her trap uses such powers and bindings. I do not yet understand how she and her family could know of these things.’

‘But Daniel knew to look for the amulet on Virginia.’

Outside, a bell tolls once, twice. I lose count after nine.

Mya waits for the reverberation to fade. ‘You’ve kept this to yourself all these years, and now you want us to trust you?’

‘This division has gone on long enough, Mya. It has made us weak. Call the others here.’

‘As guests or hostiles?’

Nathaniel frowns, as though the question offends him. ‘As Rephaim. This place exists for all of you. Nothing that has happened in the past decade changes that.’

Mya turns to Jude. ‘Are you hearing this? Damn it, I wish you remembered. I could really do with you being
you
right now.’ There’s more than frustration in her voice; there’s a longing too.

Jude thinks for a moment. ‘Nathaniel.’

‘Yes, Judah.’

‘It’s Jude.’

‘I prefer the name I gave you.’

Jude stiffens. Recovers. ‘I prefer Jude.’ A steadying breath. ‘We need time to discuss this.’

‘No.’ It’s Daniel who says it. ‘These three will convince you and Gabriella to leave with them.’

‘Daniel,’ Ez says, exasperated. ‘This isn’t a game. Jude’s right—we need to talk about this without you breathing down our necks.’

Nathaniel studies her and then nods. ‘It is not an unreasonable request, Esther. We will return shortly.’

Daniel looks as though he wants to argue, but doesn’t. He and Nathaniel leave the room without speaking to each other. The door scrapes over the stones, the latch clicks shut.

‘He can’t honestly think we’re going to stay here,’ Mya says to Ez.

Ez rubs her eyes. ‘Do you have a plan?’

‘I’ll have one quicker than anyone here.’

‘Mya,’ Zak says. ‘Answer the question.’

She avoids his gaze. ‘Not yet.’

Jude walks to the centre of the room, skirting the remnants of blood and vomit on the stones. He cranes his neck to look up at the ornate timber arches overhead.

‘What do you think we should do, Gaby?’

I lean back against the hard pew. I can’t settle my mind enough to know. Images of Rafa tumble over each other: of him fighting demons at the Retreat…racing ahead of me on the beach…walking through the crowd at Rick’s carrying beers…undressing me on his bed…his lips on my skin. And then that last, horrible moment, before the Gatekeepers took him. The sword. Blood. The look in his eyes.

Then Jude’s arms are around me, pulling me to him. I breathe in the sea and wood smoke, bury my face in the blanket he tightens around me.

‘Tell me what you want to do,’ he whispers.

‘We stay here.’ I mumble it into the blanket. Then I raise my head, say it again, stronger. ‘We stay here for now.’

‘What a surprise.’ Mya’s voice is bitter. ‘You want to obey Nathaniel.’

I pull away from Jude, find the strength to sit up on my own. ‘I want Rafa and Taya back.’

‘We all want that.’

‘Then use your head. The more swords we have with us, the more chance we’ll have of succeeding, especially if Nathaniel fights with us.’

‘Gabe’s right,’ Zak says. ‘Let’s bring everyone here first. Then work up a plan.’

Mya closes her eyes, seems to wrestle with something. Finally she lets out a frustrated breath, takes out her phone and goes to the other side of the room. Her ponytail swings across her neck and I catch another glimpse of the Celtic cross over her Rephaite mark.

‘Jones—’ I hear.

Jude leans closer. ‘We’ll get Rafa back.’

How can he sound so certain? I’m not even certain I could cross the room right now. Darkness drags at me.

I stare up at the painting on the wall. A tangle of limbs and swords, darkness and light, blood and halos. Now, though, I see more detail. Not all the angels are victorious: some lie bleeding among broken Corinthian columns, wings torn, limbs missing—butchered demons scattered around them. Why would Nathaniel want that in here? A reminder that victory comes only with suffering?

I tear my eyes away from the image, find Ez and Zak standing together in the middle of the room.

‘You two still with us?’ Ez asks.

Jude and I look at each other, nod.

‘Well, then,’ she says. ‘I guess there’s only one thing left to say…’ She holds out her arms, eyes sad, exhausted. ‘Welcome home.’

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Writing a second book in a series—especially one featuring Gaby and Rafa—is definitely fun, but it’s not without its challenges. Fortunately, I’ve had my editor, Alison Arnold, along again for the ride. I know you’ve heard it before, Ali, but I love working on these books with you. Thank you. For everything.

Huge thanks again to the rest of the amazing team at Text Publishing for the ongoing support and enthusiasm for the Rephaim series. Special mentions go to publicist Stephanie Stepan (miss you already) and rights manager Anne Beilby (love your work).

Thanks to my agent Lyn Tranter, who’s always there when I need her, and Jane Finigan at Lutyens & Rubinstein Literary Agency for her amazing support.

Thanks to the team at Orion/Indigo Books in the United Kingdom, especially my editor, Jenny Glenross, and senior publicity manager, Nina Douglas. Thanks, too, to the Tundra Books team in Canada, who will soon be officially introducing the Rephaim to North America.

A chunk of
Haze
was written during the inaugural three-day writing frenzy that is the Queensland Writers’ Centre Rabbit Hole. It’s a fantastic initiative—up there with National Novel Writing Month for first draft motivation. Speaking of first drafts, thanks to my test readers, especially Rebecca Cram (Place) and Michelle Reid. And to my writer friends, old and new: thanks for the friendship, advice and inspiration.

Thanks to my niece, Kelly Minerds, who actually did that insane bungee jump in the second chapter, and whose Facebook clip I used as research. (I certainly wasn’t diving out of a cable car.)

To my wonderful friends and family: thanks for your support and understanding when I seem a little vague. I’m probably thinking about sword fights or kissing scenes. Or food.

And Murray…what can I say? This is some adventure we’re on. Love you.

Finally, to all the readers, bloggers, reviewers, librarians and booksellers who so kindly embraced
Shadows
…I hope you enjoy this next instalment.

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