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Into Darkness: The Akrhyn Series (Book 1) Page 12


  “She’s being unreasonable, father was right to send her away.”

  Cord snorted at Michael’s reply. “I have yet to come across her when she is reasonable,” he admitted. “How they think she and my brother are a match is a ridiculous.”

  “Sloane is one of the few Akrhyns who accepts her for what she is,” Michael answered solemnly.

  Cord eyed him speculatively. “You mean: spoiled, entitled, lazy and annoying?”

  Michael’s surprised laugh filled the hall as he rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s also kind, stubborn and more importantly, Castor, my sister.”

  “Ha, you think that would make a difference to me?” Cord smiled despite himself. “Are you ready for the upcoming Trials? You know I am going to best you this year at the Winter Event.”

  “I was unsure if you were going to participate this year, with you gaining your robes,” Michael admitted.

  This time Cord’s laughter was louder, causing several Akrhyn in the halls to stop what they were doing and stare. “You would like that wouldn’t you?” His smile was easy and relaxed “No, Michael, I will still represent House Ivanov.”

  “You cannot Cast in the Event,” Michael reminded him.

  “I have beaten this House every year for the last three years, I didn’t need my Cast then and I don’t need it now.” Cord answered cockily.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be humbler now that you’re Cast?” Michael grumbled as they approached Marcus’s rooms.

  Cord laughed again, “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Laughing still at Michael’s obvious discontent, Cord strode confidently up to the door and with no hesitation walked into Marcus’s rooms unannounced.

  “You took your time,” Marcus grumbled as he set up the chess set. He looked up and stopped when he saw Michael. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “What, I can’t witness an epic game of chess?” Michael replied easily as he headed to the low couch sitting under the window.

  “No matter how much you watch a game, it doesn’t make you a player,” Cord chastised him. He took his usual seat at the table. “To be a Master, you need to play.”

  “You know I can’t, you know I lose in about five moves,” Michael grumbled.

  “I know,” Cord grinned gleefully at him. “It pleases my soul to say it every time. The Heir of the great House Holt cannot play a simple game of chess.”

  “Bite me,” Michael grumbled as he settled down to watch.

  “Not appropriate,” Marcus grumbled, his stare hard on both of them. “Are you going to talk all night, or can we play?”

  “We can play,” Cord bowed respectfully as he adjusted his robes.

  “Good,” Marcus sat also, almost rubbing his hands with anticipation. “Oh, congratulations on attaining the robes. Knew you would choose Crimson.”

  “You know I strive for neutrality in all things?” Cord’s natural mocking tone returned, the ease of a few moments ago forgotten.

  “You? Neutral?” Marcus threw his head back and let out a loud laugh. “Never.”

  Cord glanced enquiringly at Michael before looking at the Lycan. “Then how did you know I would choose Crimson?”

  “Because you’re a contrary son of a Drakhyn and it would irritate all the Casts for you to be Crimson.” Marcus answered easily as Michael snorted with laughter.

  “And it seems the first strike goes to Marcus,” Michael kicked his boots off as he got even more comfortable. “Who’s winning the second game?”

  The Crimson Castor looked at the Lycan and the Lycan raised an eyebrow in challenge as he met his stare.

  “I am,” they both answered at the same time. Michael’s laughter was loud in the room.

  Tegan walked the perimeter again, her feet itching to go past the boundary, into and through the trees and patrol the surrounding darkness not just these grounds. She had rejected the offer of accompaniment when the Lycan had asked her, she was fed up of his questions. Constant questions. Instead she had presented herself at the Elite Sentinel’s Guard and handed them her authorisation papers. Tegan knew that the Principal Elder would have informed them of her new station, and she knew one or two of the Sentinels from her Trials.

  They had barely looked at her. She was handed a pin depicting the shield and flame crest of all Sentinels but hers had black flames indicating that she was Elite. A silhouette of a grove of trees from long ago was also on the shield – letting Akrhyn know whose house she protected. A terse command to patrol the perimeter and familiarise herself with the grounds was given and she was dismissed. It had been comforting, this is what she wanted and had expected. She knew that many of the Elite were aware of her age, her Trial times, her training. Tegan expected them to be distrustful of her. They also knew whose House she came from but more importantly, whose House she belonged to. So, she had patrolled the perimeter, alone and slightly bored.

  “It is quiet tonight?”

  Tegan turned to find Salem behind her. “Not so quiet I didn’t hear you approach,” she dipped her head as was customary to greet the Principal Elder. “But yes, the woods, they are too quiet.”

  “You think there is Drakhyn in the woods?” Salem asked coming to stand beside her.

  “There are always Drakhyn in the woods, even when you think you have killed them all, they spawn in ever increasing numbers.”

  “Cynical,” Salem grunted, “but true.” He stood quietly beside her. “How long do you have on your patrol?”

  Tegan commenced walking again as she glanced at the sky. “Two hours,” she answered.

  “A long day,” Salem commented. “You will forever be running catch up on sleep if we don’t let you rest.”

  “I need no special treatment.”

  “It is not special treatment. You travelled here for four days, you’ve had what?” he glanced at her, “four hours sleep?”

  “That’s what I am used to.”

  “Perhaps, but I need my Elite alert.” Salem clasped his hands behind his back as he walked, it reminded her of her father Leonid, and she felt a pang in her chest as she thought of him.

  “I will not fail,” Tegan grumbled.

  “No, you probably won’t.”

  They both froze suddenly at a movement in the shadows in the trees, Tegan’s eyes were already in the treetops. “It climbs,” she whispered to Salem. She moved forward stealthily with Salem beside her. “You are familiar with my father’s teaching? You still remember your training?” she asked the Principal quietly. Salem winced at her reference to Leonid but nodded sharply. “Good, follow my lead.”

  Salem almost protested at an eighteen-year-old Akrhyn telling him how to patrol, but instead was forced to follow her as she suddenly burst into a run for the perimeter. Is she going to… yes, yes she is, she’s scaling the fence! He watched in alarm as Tegan effortlessly scaled the fence, seemingly oblivious to the sharp bursts of spells that she was setting off. As he followed her ascent he scowled as he realised that when she breached the security the day before she had ascertained that the spells were detection and not deterrent. She was merely alerting the other Sentinels that there was a threat by the most direct method possible – setting off the wards. In an impressive time, Tegan was over the fence and had descended the other side. As Salem reached the top, he heard her land and then she was running again, having no regard for if he was following her or not. Hastily following her and wishing he had more than a few knives on him, he heard the alarms going off on the grounds.

  Salem had lived in this Estate his whole life, he was familiar with the topography of the land and the knowledge that he stumbled on an upturned root had him cursing his softness that he had acquired behind the desk. Hearing the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn, he slowed, he didn’t want to distract her by bursting upon her, but he also didn’t want Tegan too far in front of him.

  Tegan was in a clearing, lit by moonlight, with three Drakhyn in front of her. Salem watched as she moved forward, she seemed to engage t
hem all at once. He stood by helplessly as she pivoted between the three monsters, her movements fluid, her strikes hitting their mark each time. Salem realised he couldn’t even enter the fray or he would be in danger of causing her harm. Movement to the left drew his attention, the darker shadow moving into the light slowly. Gripping his knives he threw with deadly accuracy and the fourth Drakhyn stumbled just as Tegan decapitated one of her three, effectively breaking their combined attack. Salem distracted the second with a knife to the arm. It wouldn’t kill it, but it would slow it down – giving Tegan the time she needed to dispatch of the other Drakhyn.

  Salem heard the approach of more Sentinels just as Tegan took down the Drakhyn he had slowed down with his knife. As a handful of Elite Sentinels burst into the clearing, swords drawn, Tegan looked up from her kills and beamed at the newcomers, before turning to him her smile bright. The resemblance to her mother in that moment, tore at Salem’s heart.

  “Principal?” one of his Elites gasped. “You should not be out here.”

  “Field exercise,” he answered tersely, as he continued to watch Tegan pat down the corpses of the Drakhyn. She was completely unconcerned at their death or touching them. Fearless, he thought. He had seen Sentinels older, more experienced than her, turn their head away as they performed the task. Not Tegan, she was thorough, exploring every inch of the body.

  “She took all three?” Bryce, the Commander of the Elite Sentinels asked quietly, as Tegan began to drag the corpses into a pile. She dropped a lit match onto the lifeless bodies once she had quickly doused them in what Salem could only assume was lighter fluid.

  “Without breaking a sweat and in a remarkably short time,” he answered Bryce as he continued to watch. Tegan stayed throughout the burning, even as more Sentinels searched the woods, she did not move from her vigilance to ensure that the Drakhyn were ash. When the fire consumed itself into nothing, she walked over to where he waited.

  “Do you wish me to accompany you back, Principal Elder?”

  “Commander?” Salem asked, finally looking at his Commander for the first time since he had entered the clearing.

  “We will continue the search,” the commander answered. “Headquarters were not breached.”

  “Today,” Salem answered as he turned back to Tegan. “They weren’t breached today.” She met his stare unwavering, her confidence shining through. “Come, you can walk me back,” Salem directed as he headed back to Headquarters, never doubting that this fierce new Sentinel was at his back.

  “You were impressive,” Salem said quietly after they had walked for a few minutes. Tegan said nothing as she walked beside him, not that he had expected her to. “Shall we try the front entrance to Headquarters?” Salem asked with a small smile. “I think you should maybe try the conventional way of entry.”

  Tegan smiled at his humour and nodded. “I suppose I could try it at least once.”

  “You shouldn’t leave your partner so far behind when you hunt,” Salem reprimanded her quietly. “It leaves you exposed.” He glanced at her, seeing her frown, he continued, “It also leaves your partner exposed. You can be the best of the best, Tegan, but you are still responsible for who you’re hunting with, as they are you.” They walked together in silence, as they approached the driveway for Headquarters, Salem noted Tegan’s silence and possible resentment at his words. “You have hunted with a Vampyre, you are used to Leonid being immortal and damn near invincible when he hunts. Not all Sentinels are Vampyres, just as not all Vampyres are Leonid.”

  “You’re right,” Tegan was thoughtful as she walked. “Father has told me the same thing, but you’re right, it is easy to forget that I am not with father.” Tegan looked at the Principal Elite. “I will bear it in mind, Principal.”

  “You can call me Salem,” he said as they approached the door. “Most people do, especially my Elite guard.” He added on hurriedly as he saw Tegan’s reaction to his request. “I’m quite relaxed and I don’t call for people standing on ceremony so much.”

  “Oh,” Tegan looked away as they reached the door to Headquarters. “If you are sure. But be prepared for me to slip.”

  “It will take time, Tegan,” Salem said quietly.

  Tegan nodded, unsure; she knew the Principal meant more than the conversation they were having. The unspoken fact that they were father and daughter had been unaddressed but was lingering over both of them. She walked back to his study with him, anxious to be away from the situation.

  “Everything okay?” Tegan hadn’t noticed Michael approach and mentally berated herself for the slight.

  “Drakhyn,” Salem answered. “Tegan had them handled.”

  “How many?” Michael asked as he took in the awkwardness of his new sister with his father. They both looked uncomfortable and uneasy.

  “Four,” Tegan responded quickly. “If you are okay with it, Principal, I will continue my patrol.” She didn’t wait for him to reply before turning on her heel and was heading to the door.

  “Bonding well?” Michael asked dryly.

  “It will take time,” Salem sighed. “She took on three of them, by herself, with no awareness of where I was or how far behind I was,” he continued quietly.

  “She’s reckless?” Michael was surprised as this was one of the assessments during Trials. Being aware of who you were with, their capabilities, your responsibilities to them and yourself.

  “Not in that way. She killed them with no hesitation, she was more than capable,” Salem walked into his study, his son following him. “But she is used to a Vampyre behind her. I’ll need to ensure she is partnered with a Sentinel who is as capable.”

  “Or not,” Michael shrugged while his father waited for him to continue. “Ask Bryce to make sure she is with the weaker Elite.”

  “There are no weak Elite,” Salem sat down heavily behind his desk.

  “Come on, dad, you know what I mean.” Michael slouched low in his seat, “Not all the Elite are perfect – make sure Bryce pairs her with them, train her to adapt to the fact not everyone is a machine like she is.”

  “That idea may have merit,” Salem looked at his son thoughtfully. “And you? How are you dealing with this new addition to the family?”

  Michael barked out a laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. “You make her sound like a new pet, not a fully-grown woman who could be the next Heir to our House.” His father chuckled across from him as he ran a hand over his jaw. “It’s fine, dad. It will take some time to get used to, but honestly?” Michael paused as he thought about it. “Honestly, it feels right that she is here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I was shocked at first, but just talking to her, being beside her, feels… comfortable.” Michael laughed. “Which is really really strange, but I can’t explain it.”

  “Sloane also bonded well with her.” Salem grimaced, “Only Zahra seems to have an issue.”

  “It’s understandable, it was a shock for us all. She’ll come around, but I think you may need to grovel for a time yet.” Michael rose from his seat, “We can’t all be expected to be okay with this, it’s an adjustment that will take time.”

  “Hopefully, time is what we’ll have.”

  “I’m going to go and get ready for patrol. Cord is with Marcus playing chess,” Michael rolled his eyes. “Sloane already left them to it.”

  “Make sure she goes to her room when she is relieved. I have a feeling she may not be willing to stop her patrol this evening, having killed three already.” Salem instructed as Michael walked to the door.

  “I’ll speak to Bryce?” Michael asked his father; Salem nodded his confirmation. “Night dad, try and rest.”

  Salem watched his son leave before heading to his liquor cabinet and pouring himself a large bourbon. As he poured, he thought of Tegan in the woods, the ease and fearlessness in which she dispatched her enemy. She would be an excellent addition to his team, he just hoped she would be an excellent addition to his family.

  Cord walk
ed through the halls silently, his games with Marcus had ended, an Elite Sentinel had come for Marcus in regards to a disturbance to the perimeter. Knowing of the earlier skirmish in the woods, Marcus had left to investigate. Cord hadn’t offered his services and Marcus hadn’t asked. Cord stayed close to the shadows despite the halls being quiet at this time. He wasn’t altogether surprised to see Tegan come down the stairs looking for others before she headed to the training rooms. He followed her on a whim – she intrigued him. Even he had heard nothing of a mysterious Holt daughter, which surprised him because Sentinels were not known for discretion. The fact the Great Council and their Elite Guard had kept this to themselves was enough to pique his curiosity more. Tegan went into one of the training rooms and he waited a moment outside the room before entering after her.

  She was at the wall with the kali sticks and spun with two in her hand, crouched down ready to attack whoever had come in the room.

  “Friend not foe,” Cord said as he approached her.

  “That’s what a foe would say,” Tegan replied as she straightened and flicked her braid off her shoulder. Her eyes ran over his red robes as she fought to keep the distrust off her face when Cord kept his hood pulled low over his face.

  “That probably is what a foe would say, but surely my Cast assures you I am harmless?”

  Tegan watched as his hand gestured to his robes, but she did not relax her stance. “Crimson Cast is neutral, not harmless,” she began. “Neutrality breeds complacency.”

  Cord smiled under his hood, her open cynicism of his Cast was refreshing in as much as it was foolhardy. “You know not who I am to display such disregard for my Calling.”

  “Cord Ivanov, First of his House, Heir to House Ivanov, adopted son of Cornelius, born of Delilah Ivanov aged twenty-one years, excelled at his Cast Trials, first ever Castor to select his Cast as a result of an undefined ruling.” Tegan looked at him as she finished.

  “Are you done?” Cord drawled mockingly.

  “No, it is also said you are a formidable opponent, especially when using kali sticks,” she tossed a stick to him which he caught deftly.