A Legion of Bane & Embers: Chapter 7
Hello, Little Hillion,
As a reminder, A Legion of Bane & Embers, a Knights of Cindervail Novella, is a dark paranormal romance with mature themes. This is an 18+ serial publication, and reader discretion is advised.
*Note: This is technically an unedited serial.*
Thank you for your continuous support, and I hope you enjoy this week’s angst!
xoxo,
KL Hill
Chapter 7 - Atlas
The dark shadows of the moonless night cloak us as we walk the streets, ducking into alleyways at any chance we get. “Do you smell anything?” I ask for what seems like the thousandth time.
Jaxon looks at me sidelong as we follow behind Emilian, who stays silent as he stalks the streets. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he grumbles. “Elara warned me about your little pet, but I didn’t imagine I would be out in the open with him.”
Emilian’s shoulders stiffen. It’s slight, not enough for anyone but me to notice. His hearing is impeccable, and even though he’s quite a distance ahead of us, I know he can hear every word as if it’s being whispered into his ear. I look at Jaxon, giving him a clever smile. “He’s muzzled for a reason, Jax,” I say smoothly, dulling the edge that’s usually in my voice when Emilian is around. “Why are you so worried about him, anyway? Don’t you have fangs of your own?”
I try to keep my tone light, but the tension between all three of us weighs on me. Jaxon scoffs, “Fuck you, man.” He sweeps his vision across the empty street, using his own means of tracking his prey, his skin shifting to reveal his snakeskin. “What happened with you and Elara anyway? She was very defensive when I asked her about you.”
I keep my eyes ahead and I don’t miss the way Emilian looks over his shoulder, and even from this distance, I can see how fucking smug he is. I contemplate my answer. After me, Jaxon is Elara’s closest friend. So, if she wasn’t willing to air our dirty laundry out to him, then I shouldn’t either. If she decides to hang me out to dry in our small group, then that’s up to her, because I deserve it.
“Our last mission was a tough one, and she wanted some space to rest,” is all I offer him. We’re close, and our history of trudging through the rigorous tests to gain our Knighthood is deeply ingrained in us. I have considered him a close friend for a long time and would charge at any demon for him. However, we’re not under the same Legion, so he’s not privy to any of our orders, and while we freely share them, this is something I’m keeping close to my chest.
That’s not to mention that Elara and I go much further back, with our own fucked up histories weaving us together and bonding us for the rest of our lives.
Jaxon lets out a quiet hiss, and I know he doesn’t buy my excuse, but he doesn’t press me any further. Good. I just want to find Elara, ensure she’s safe, and apologize for ghosting her and leading her on. I’m fully aware of the long-term effects of that, and I may have ruined the good thing we had going for us, but even if it means she’ll try to find another partner, more than anything, I just want her home safe.
“So, how did you get your little blood sucking pet, anyways?” Jaxon’s question pulls me back from my thoughts. Disdain coats his words as he watches Emilian, as if he’ll turn on us at any moment.
And while there are many things that Emilian could do and is more than capable of, I know he won’t.
I remain silent, not even bothering to look Jaxon’s way, as we pass through a narrow alley and emerge onto the street. We move further away from the city center and into the rougher neighborhoods. Cindervail, though filled with magic, is no different from any other city. There are wealthier areas, primarily in the high-rise buildings downtown, where the middle class resides in commutable sections just beyond the skyscrapers, and the lower class lives on the outskirts of the city.
Most of the lower class are humans whose families have been killed by the monsters and rogues that step through the rips, struggling to survive as their beloved city seems to be slowly pushing them out. This neighborhood, in particular, is condemned and resembles the one where I once found myself while hunting for a demon. I was almost killed, but I was rescued by a blood-sucking tick that makes my already miserable existence even more unbearable.
“Well?” Jaxon pushes, still keeping his eyes fixed on Emilian.
I huff out a breath, watching as it fills the chilled air like a cloud of ancient dragon smoke. “I found him in a neighborhood just like this one,” I finally say, not taking my eyes off the street in front of me. “He sweetened the deal when I came back from my final order as a squire. A demon dead and a vampire in chains. The Grand Master’s ancient face nearly cracked with how big his rare smile was.”
“Your story is almost that of an urban legend,” Jaxon says flatly, his curiosity seeming to turn into something else. “Where, no matter what way you lay it out, it doesn’t always quite add up, does it?”
Jaxon has been pushing me for years about that night, with his own family even making offhand comments to me that a plain human conquering a demon and capturing a vampire is something you read about in fantasy books. They’ve been the main ones to question it, even after an investigation was conducted on the legitimacy of my claim, which Emilian ensured would tell the story we wanted.
However solid my story is, their ability to see through my lies is almost as impressive as their thermal vision. Jaxon’s family has long served as Knights of Cindervail, with his uncle being a long-serving and highly respected Chancellor of Jaxon’s legion, which made Jaxon an early pick when we were inducted at the accolade.
But even if I’m lying through my teeth and he’s attempting to corner me on it for the millionth time, I halt in my tracks, my fingers curling into fists as my anger flares. “Are we out here to find Elara, or did you drag me from my home on false pretenses so that you could interrogate me?” I look around, gesturing to the empty street. “Did Elara put you up to this?” To get back at me?
Jaxon narrows his eyes at me. “I came to you looking for her because it seemed strange that you two went on a mission together, and then you apparently disappeared until the Knights Table meeting. Now, when Elara was supposedly going on a mission with someone I assumed was you, she’s missing for days?” He squares his shoulders, closing in on me. “Seems awfully suspicious. Damning, even.”
My fingers curl tighter, and I roll back my shoulders, ready to land a fist before he can shift and strike me. His eyes suddenly flash, looking past me, and that’s when I feel a presence behind me, one that has haunted me every day for nearly a decade.
Jaxon takes a small step back, his eyes narrowing on Emilian, before his attention shifts back to me, and his demeanor suddenly shifts. Softens. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, running a hand over his head, “I don’t know what came over me. I’m just worried about Elara and your little blood sucker has me on edge.”
The cold air is thick as we stare each other down, my own questions rising in my throat, but I swallow them back, clearing them away. “You get used to it,” I say flatly, looking over my shoulder at Emilian, my jaw tensing in warning at him. He takes a slow step back, and I feel the chill in the air fill the space between us as I glance back at Jaxon, narrowing my eyes on him. “Now, are you here to help, or do I need to do this without you?”
Jaxon looks between Emilian and me, noting the distance he’s now created between us, the same distance that sends a chill down my back, and curtly nods his head. “I haven’t been to this part of the city in ages,” he says quietly, looking around. “Gives me the fucking creeps.”
We keep going, Emilian light on his feet as he moves silently through the shadows. His grace is entrancing, and I find myself watching him instead of scanning the area.
“Atlas,” Jaxon says in a hushed voice, pulling me from my trance as he picks something up off the ground. “Look.”
He hands me a gold chain dotted with tiny rubies—the same one that Elara has worn for years, a gift to herself for being dubbed a Knight, one I helped her pick out. I hold it up and watch as it twinkles in the dim streetlights like tiny droplets of blood. We both look around as if she’ll come out of the shadows, declaring that this is nothing more than a game of hide-and-seek. Instead, I catch Emilian standing at the bottom of a stoop a few houses down, his body rigid as he stares at the door, taking in a deep breath.
Emilian glances over his shoulder, his red irises bright as he stares at me. “Someone’s been in there,” he says lowly. “She’s been in there.”
Jaxon shoves past me, his shoulder knocking into me hard, and I stumble forward, falling onto my hands and knees as the bracelet clatters across the cobblestone street. I groan while lifting myself up, only to hear the hiss of a snake paired with a low growl, reminiscent of the one that has made countless attempts to lure me to its domain.
Jerking my head up, I see Emilian has Jaxon by the throat, his claws elongating and pressing into Jaxon’s molting skin as he attempts to shift. “You do not disrespect him,” Emilian says with a deep growl in his voice that skitters across my skin, as he pulls Jaxon even closer to his face. The only thing keeping them apart is the muzzle that cages his gleaming fangs.
“Emilian,” I bite, careful not to be too loud in case someone is nearby. “Let him go. Now.”
I slowly rise to my feet, and he watches me closely, as if searching for any signs of injury. “He needs to learn some respect. What is a Knight if they don’t know how to respect those who have the ability to be more powerful than them?” Emilian licks his lips, then swipes his tongue across his fangs, allowing it to catch on one of them. The blood from his last feed oozes from the open wound before it gradually stitches itself closed again, leaving only a crimson sheen on his lips.
“He didn’t disrespect me. It was an accident.” I say roughly. “Let. Him. Go.”
Emilian’s eyes flash as every muscle in his body tightens, ready to destroy what he perceives as an enemy. Reluctantly, he lets Jaxon go, causing him to stumble back while grasping at his throat. He hisses and turns to me, a stream of blood oozing from the punctures across his throat. “I’m going to kill your fucking pet, Atlas,” he spits my name like venom from his fangs. “He attacked a Knight. A deed punishable by death.”
I step up to him, our chests nearly touching as I gaze into his snake-like eyes, his scales clearly visible on his slithering skin. “Too bad he’s already dead,” I retort. “And besides, he would be mine to deal with. Leave his punishment to me after we find Elara.” I turn on my heel, fully facing Emilian, with barely a breath between us. “You have a job to do, pet.”
Emilian takes a long step backward, watching me with red, glittering eyes as he bows low. “For you. For the Vail,” he says coolly, rising back up and inhaling deeply.
He spins on his heel and begins sauntering down the street as if he weren’t just in the face of a seething Basilisk. I turn to see Jaxon eyeing Emilian, his rage rolling off in thick waves. “You good?” I ask, attempting to shift his attention back to me. He glances at me sideways and nods, rolling his shoulders back and once more running a hand over his head.
He stalks past me, keeping an obvious distance from Emilian. I slide my hand into my pocket, gliding my thumb along the tip of the stake, reminding myself that I have the power. While I may not technically be his sire, I am the head of the house. He might be a vampire, but he’s my weapon to use- one that I am permitted to dispose of as I see fit. He crossed a line tonight with Jaxon, and I can’t let that stand because if I do, that would make me seem weak in the eyes of the other Knights.
A low growl emits from behind me, and just as I turn, I’m struck in the face, pain lacing across my cheek as I’m thrown backward, hitting the cobblestones and sliding down the street. I scramble back to my feet, my head already throbbing and the wind knocked out of me, just as a massive winged demon steps toward me from the shadows, its snarling maw dripping with black goo.
I take a step back, trying to create distance between myself and the monster as I draw my gun from the holster in my waistband and aim it at it. As it charges, its mouth wide open and baring rows of sharp teeth, with its claws poised to swipe at me, I pull the trigger, the shot ringing out in the space between us.