Psyche

Chapter Twenty-Five

"They're here," he whispered, jerking my arm.

I gritted my teeth in a failed attempt to look like some Canem war hero. It was no use. I felt like I was waterskiing. Phoenyx was a boat pulling me across the water as I struggled to stay upright. But the further we pushed on down the hall, the more comfortable I grew . . . or possibly, more oblivious to the death in the boat's wake. I couldn't help but imagine all of that white, stirring water under my feet . . . the death. I was scared to look down but my vision was blurry as my gray eyes scanned the distance.

I broke free of his grasp and started running on my own. He stopped short in front of a huge window. He stayed to the side, peering through it. I forced myself to look at the demons that stood readily at the end of the drive. When I accidentally made eye contact with one of them, it was just too much. Those eyes were projecting the most hate and anger I'd ever seen. And they wanted me to know it. Did they know how easily I could feel it?

I swayed, my knees weakening, but when Phoenyx dashed through the house, so did I. I had to keep my strength up. The only advantage we had now was my ability to tell what the demons were thinking. Other than that . . . it was us against . . .

As I flashed past a window, I saw crowds gathering around the house. Darkness had seemed to fall all on its one . . . like they were influencing the day to stay at bay, and let this battle commence.

I knew I had to grow a pair, woman up, and find my courage. But that's a lot harder than it sounds, especially when you have a bunch of demons glaring at you through the windows, can feel the darkness wrapping around you . . . choking you . . .

I took a deep breath. There was no fucking way I was giving up now. I had battles to fight, my battles. I had questions to answer, my questions. I even had questions to fight, battles to answer. Phoenyx was rushing off to fight. I hadn't told him about . . . Iris . . . and now I had to feel guilty about it. That was my punishment. That was my cross to bear. I hadn't answered to him, and now I had battles to fight. It wasn't about honor anymore. Nick was my friend. He'd shown up one day at my school, stayed an ass, and the closer I got to him, the more I saw it: he was dying. He may be immortal, but he's dying. Without anyone to help him, he could easily stay in this never-ending cycle of misery.

And no one deserves that. If it was in my power to change it, I would do it.

Bringing myself back to the task at hand, I observed as Phoenyx reached behind a bookcase grabbed a scabbard, unsheathing a sword that glimmered in the low light, inscribed with swirling symbols. He reached into a potted plant and extracted a small dagger, and then turned to me, pressing it into my hand.

"It's small, but deadly." He pushed my hand up as I turned it accidentally towards me, "It can kill anything supernatural. So for Goddess's sake don't point it at me! It should help. If you channel your vis through it, then you'll be able to see how close enemies are. Red means holy hell, there's monsters coming. Simple enough?"

I swallowed, nodding confidently, "Yes."

He ventured deeper into mansion for more arms. I followed after quickly, lagging behind, unable to stop looking over my shoulder. Suddenly, I glanced down to see the blade of my knife glowing red.

"Phoenyx," I said, tapping his shoulder.

He turned, glancing at the blade, and nodded, "Keep a lookout. I'm almost ready." He ducked into a storage room, and came out with seven or so different weapons into his arms. Side-stepping past me to get out, he walked back out into the hallway, his breathing rate increasing. I followed him, watching as he strapped on several of them, taking out the two luminae, the knives with glowing white crystal-like tips. With these in hand, he continued back to the library, crouching, keeping low, out of sight of the windows. I could hear some kind of war chant going around . . .