Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel) (18 page)

This man was me. This was my future.

I slammed my head against the sword pommel, just so I would feel something other than the pain in my chest. My eyes burned from hard crying, and I wanted to throw up.

“I’m so sorry,” I moaned amidst heavy sobbing. “I’m so sorry.” I kept repeating that sentence, over and over again. Not that it would make any difference. Nothing could alleviate this heaviness and this pain inside me. Nothing at all, not even death.

I felt the sword grow warm in my hands and against my forehead, and heard a different voice around me.

“I will give you the power to change your destiny.”

It was the same voice I heard in my vision of the mangrove tree. The sword heated up and glowed a bright azure. I closed my eyes and tried to find my resolve. It may have been my fault that Gil got hurt, and it may have been my fault that Mom died. But the truth was, that those were things of the past. I couldn’t change them, no amount of magic can. I had to protect Gil. I had to make things right. I had to stop the suffering, both hers and mine.

I took a deep breath and pulled the sword. It relinquished itself to me, and I held it up in the air as it illuminated the entire room with painfully bright light.

Once I calmed down and the heaviness left my chest I slid down from the coffin.

“Made it back, huh?” I heard the cat statue say. “Wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Or ever.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I laid my hands on the coffin, feeling the smooth, cool surface.

“Yeah, well, what did you expect? At least the crying and sobbing part was fun to watch. Way better than the damn book.”

“Not a Shakespeare fan?”

“After that major cock block, hell no. I mean, after the whole lovey-dovey build up I’d expect some serious porkies. But no, the dumbass had to go kill ‘em off. Screw him, I’m switching over to Marlowe from now on. What are you gonna do with that?” it asked.

I lifted the sword. “I like it. It feels natural. Guess I’ll keep it.” I definitely wasn’t going to hand it over to my father.

“Then give it a name already,” said the cat.

“Name? Why does a short sword need a name?”

“Because it’s alive, dumbass. That Jinn is alive inside it. Has no one ever explained the concept of a channel to you?”

I waved the sword around tentatively. Was this one of those super channels that Mephisto had described?

“Does the Jinn have a name?” I asked.

“Why are you asking me?” replied the statue.

“Because you seem to know everything.”

“It doesn’t have a name. Monsters don’t usually have names. That’s a human thing.”

“Well, then I’m gonna call it Djinn.” I smiled at the sword. “Yeah. Djinn.”

“The Jinn? How is that different from a generic Jinn?”

“No. Djinn. A ‘D’ instead of ‘the’. You know, so it sounds cool,” I explained.

The cat chuckled and sighed. “Djinn. Seriously? Man, do yourself a favor — stop nerding out and get outta the damn house. You need some pussy, stat.”

“What’s your name?” I asked the statue.

“None of your business. I’m just a statue of a cat. And don’t you dare call me ‘D-cat’ or some shit. Makes me feel all gaggy inside.”

I smiled and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and lifted the lid of the coffin. Inside, I saw a body wrapped in bandages, with bloody spots checkered all over the figure. Her head was loosely covered in bandages, and her hair hung loose. I could see bits of raw flesh from underneath the wrappings and my stomach turned. Instead, I focused on her hair. I ran a finger through one of her strands and felt a bundle of hair clumped together with hardened blood. I pressed against the clump and tried to crumble the solidified blood.

My mother. My dead mother lay here, not even fully covered. She was just a tool, an ingredient. She looked fully preserved, as if she had died just yesterday, and a lump formed in my throat.

“You’re not gonna see what’s underneath?” asked the cat.

I took my arm out and closed the lid of the coffin.

“No,” I replied. “I want to remember her how she used to be.” The beginnings of a tear burned around my eye, and I defiantly held it back. The time for crying was over.

“Tell me what he’s planning,” I told the cat.

“Take me to the desk over there,” it replied. I picked up the cat gently and walked over behind the desk.

“The thick journal in front of you. Open it to where the red ribbon is,” instructed the cat.

I placed it on the table and put Djinn beside it. The ledger was barely held together and looked older than most things my father owned. Most of the pages were loose, fitted inside as makeshift reference notes.

I read something titled Siphoning Ritual. Other than the title, I couldn’t understand much so I asked for the cat for help.

“Says here that in order to siphon one’s power you need a blood relative and a ritualistic sacrifice on a moonless night. Other than that, it’s just notes on power sources and how power is inherited from one generation to the next. Erik, I think your father is gonna end up powerless.”

“How?”

“Well, it says here that something in your family tree is draining all the magic from its members over the years and shoving it into the newest members as they mature. In short, you.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Hang on, there’s more. There’s a whole paragraph here about power being divided.”

“I have a twin sister.”

The cat paused. “And you’re telling me now?”

“You never asked.”

“Whatever. Flip the page will you?” the statue urged. “Okay, yeah,” it said after a while.

“What, what?” I asked.

“Just as I thought. This whole thing is a curse, affecting the entire family tree. It dates back centuries, as far as your old man can tell. He’s trying to reverse the effects and keep all the power to himself.”

“How do I stop him?” I asked.

“Well, you could just not show up. But it’s gotta be a double no-show ‘cause I think the spell might still work with just one member, even if it gets all crooked. And I’m not sure where that chick over there enters, but I figure she’s some key ingredient. So, just burn her and send everything to hell.”

I grabbed the cat roughly. “That’s my mother over there. Don’t talk about her like that. And I am not burning her. Or destroying her in any way.”

“Hey, I’m just shootin’ out ideas here, man. I like you way better than that insane jackass.”

“Well, what other ideas do you have besides running and burning corpses?”

“You could always do it the old-fashioned way. Kill him. No warlock, no dark spell,” said the cat. “Just make sure I get a front seat to that bloodbath,” he added slyly.

I traced my fingers on the sharp edge of the short sword. The tiniest drop of blood smeared the edge. A monster, that’s what the Jinn had called me.

My father had never shown the tiniest trace of love toward his family. He left my sister and me to our own devices, and then dropped us off to be mentored by a demon without so much as the slightest concern. He only started giving a damn when we began showing some serious power. And on top of that, he was involved in the death of our mother – his wife. Now, he wanted to kill us all just so he could relish the power. My father was a monster, a real monster. He chose to be evil, the same way he chose to kill our mother and stuff her in a coffin so that he could use her later to kill his children. This had nothing to do with love — that man had no love from me.

This had just become a matter of survival, and the last thing you want to do is put me in a corner.

I love my sister. I love my mother.

My father, Crowley, and even Mephisto and the house staff — they were all outsiders who had just become enemies. So, I will do what I know how to do best.

Time to hunt some monsters.

“When will this take place?” I asked.

“It says here, on a moonless night,” replied the cat.

“When’s that?”

The cat took a moment before replying.

“Tomorrow.” My heart skipped a beat. Tomorrow. We were going to die tomorrow.

“Hey, kid,” said the cat. I managed to turn my head and look at it, although my body was pretty much acting on instinct. “Could you turn me around so I can see your horrified expression?”

My mind and body worked in overdrive.

With the sword in hand, I rushed toward my room and swiped as much stuff as I could into a rucksack. Blankets, water bottles, matches, a flashlight, crystals, anything needed for a long stay in the forest. I wrapped Djinn inside a blanket and stuffed it on top of everything else in the rucksack. If I met any resistance, that blade would taste blood.

I entered Gil’s room without knocking. Her room was as Spartan as mine, although she did have a desk with a ton of books on it.

“Gil.” I shook her awake. She peeled her eyes open and pulled her hair from her face.

“What are you doing here, Erik? What time is it?” She moaned, squeezed her eyes shut, and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“No time to explain,” I said urgently. “Get changed and pack whatever you need. We’re living in the forest for a couple of days.”

She got up. “Erik, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m not just going to leave here without a proper reason to. Now, please leave so I can go back to sleep.” She eyed me with intense green eyes. “I suggest you do the same.”

I walked away and spun in a circle. I did not need this. We had to leave now.

“I found out what they’re planning, Gil,” I said as I grabbed her shoulder. “Dad found out there’s a curse in our bloodline and he’s gonna reverse it by killing both of us and draining our power. It’s all here in these papers.” I waved a few pages in her face.

She held her hand up. “There is no curse, Erik. You’re just angry at Crowley because of what he said. He’s a creep, and he managed to get under your skin. Just let it go.”

I stuffed the papers back in the rucksack. “He’s got Mom.”

“What?”

“He’s got Mom,” I repeated. “In a coffin marked with symbols. I traced some of them cause I couldn’t make out what they were for, but you can. He’s gonna use her for the Ritual, Gil, I know it. And it’s all gotta take place tomorrow night when there’s no moon.”

“Are you sure it was Mom?”

“Yes,” I nearly yelled. “I copied the spell from Dad’s journal –”

“You broke into Dad’s office?”

“– so that you can see it, too. I’m no good with symbols and stuff, but you can understand it better. All I know is that it’s all gotta take place tomorrow night, and he’s gonna use Mom’s corpse in some way.”

Gil winced when I said corpse. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Listen to me,” I said gently. “The day we fought the phoenix, after we beat it before Mephisto came in, we both felt power through us.” Her eyes widened. “And the moment we touched hands, we each saw something. I saw a lot of white. I’m guessing you saw a lot of black.”

She remained silent, staring at me with eyes identical to mine. “We both have our own private inner worlds, and somehow they are connected. That’s what we saw. This whole thing with Mom and Dad and the curse, and our visions and my powers,” I waved my arms around for emphasis, “it’s all connected. And if we don’t run away right now we are going to die in less than twenty-four hours. By our own father’s hand.”

Gil blinked once, then twice. “Give me a minute to get ready,” she said.

We took turns watching over each other that night. Or rather, we took turns watching each other try to sleep. I kept twisting and turning, trying to find that one spot where my hip didn’t dig into some small stone. My thoughts wandered around, making sleep completely impossible.

The sun had just risen when we decided to venture out of our hidey-hole and find some food and drink. There was a stream up ahead from our cave, maybe an hour’s walk. We had to be careful and cover our tracks, but it wasn’t something we hadn’t done over and over again before. This forest was our playground, and those security guards in the mansion sure as hell would not find us unless we wanted to be found.

We sat down by the stream eating a protein bar and scooping water into our flasks. Gil sat quietly under a tree and was completely absorbed by the papers I’d given her. Before leaving Dad’s office last night, I had found a stack of papers and copied the entire ritual down. I also traced down the symbols on Mom’s coffin. It took me a few minutes as I worked automatically, ignoring everything around me, including the talkative cat statue. After reading those notes Gil came over to my side, figuratively speaking, although she did berate me for not including her in my grand plan of infiltration.

We were halfway through our breakfast when the black dog emerged from the bushes and came in full view. I had my hand on Djinn and extracted the blade for the first time since taking it from the coffin. Gil looked at the dog cautiously, then at my short sword, and back at the dog. It paced around with its head low and tongue hanging. It breathed heavily, as if it had run for miles. The wind picked up lightly, rustling leaves and causing them to tumble around in wide circles. The dog disappeared and Mephisto, in his impeccable suit and polished shoes, stood very still in its place. I raised my blade, pointing its tip toward the demon. There wasn’t much I could do if it came down to a showdown between us and Mephisto, but at least now I knew I could wound him, maybe take him down with me.

Mephisto slowly walked over to me, completely ignoring the sword pointed at him. He bent down and scooped up my water flask, draining it in one go.

“It took me five hours to track you down,” he said. A proud smile appeared on his face. “Well done.”

“Why are you here?” asked Gil.

“He probably wants to take us back,” I said.

“Yes, and no,” said Mephisto. He raised his hands. “I am here because it is time that someone divulged the whole truth to you, the descendants of the Ashendale clan.”

He motioned with his hands. “Please, sit and listen intently. We have little time if my plan is to work.”

We sat down in a circle, rolling boulders near each other. Mephisto removed his swallow-tailed jacket and dropped it carelessly on the ground. His white shirt shone bright as the sun’s rays hit him.