Page 15 of Wicked Savior
He tilts his head toward the street. “Maybe you should leave and let me finish my business.”
The tinge of desperation in his voice makes me pause. He’s gone to great lengths to rid the world of this human but can’t seem to get the job done. Why? And if he continues to fail, will it drive him over the edge?
“What business is that?” I ask politely.
A muscle ticks in his jaw. He stares at me for a long minute, contemplating his next move. It’s a stalemate, though, and he knows it. With one last glare, he disappears in a flash of white wings and brilliant light.
When Gabriel falls from his lofty pedestal, I’ll cut off his wings and drag him to the Underworld to fight for his life. Until then, I need to make sure he remains dedicated to achieving his mission. Unsuccessfully, of course.
I turn around, but she’s long gone. Time to look for a pair of memorable green eyes and gorgeous red hair.
ChapterEight
EVREN
This world is truly remarkable and so are its people. The air is saturated with emotions that seep into my bones until I can’t help but feel their highs and lows. With a contented sigh, I push my red hair over my shoulder and soak up all the feelings.
Humans excel in emotional intelligence. Their ability to identify, assess, express, and control emotions for oneself and others is remarkable. In this single area, humans reign supreme over all other races.
Unfortunately, emotions are not a defense against the supernatural races and the magic they wield. Humans are outmatched in power and strength. The only reason they haven’t died out is their astonishing ability to procreate. Sheer numbers. Normally, I’d count this as an advantage, but not in the war that’s coming. It only makes them cannon fodder or a fleeting snack, easily consumed along the path of destruction.
During our travels, my mother and I met a prophetic seer who told us humans would need us to help them evolve and survive. They had magic but needed to find a way to cultivate it. Thinking this a simple task, my mother returned to Earth two thousand years ago to help humans evolve. But she never returned. I looked for her but found no trace. At first, I hadn’t worried. She would often become distracted by theories and disappear for long periods to observe or conduct experiments. Absolutely sure I would find her in another world, I left here and searched far and wide.
Nothing. With hope dwindling, I went back to the seer. He showed me the few visions he could glean from the aether. My mother coming here, her giving a warrior a torque, a black beast, and a dark-haired angel. Her path becomes blank at that point.
Desperate to know the truth, I returned to the place of my birth to search for clues about her disappearance, along with any information I could find on the warrior and angel. Not knowing where to start, I focused on her quest to help humans evolve. Magical humans don’t appear every day. Through my research, I discovered two human races with powers—witches and Druids. Using deductive reasoning, I concluded Druids fit the best because their source of power is unknown.
If history is captured in some form, verbal or written, it’s accessible, especially to those like me who can pay in both magic and power. So, I put the word out. In exchange for conclusive information or evidence, I offered a one-of-a-kind amulet as payment.
Oval in shape, with a quartz in its center, the spell engraved on the back makes the wearer invisible to their enemies. They can hide forever as long as they wear the amulet. I cast a wide net and waited like a spider in its web.
Not long after, a sorceress came forward. In one gloved fist, she carried a torque and in the other, a tome. She refused to leave the torque because she’d stolen it from some powerful Duke but offered to let me study it for a couple of hours. The book she handed over freely.
When I read the spell on the torque, joy filled me. It was my mother’s spell. Not only was it written in our language, Viridian, but her symbol, a circle overlapping a triangle, engraved at the end like a signature offered incontrovertible proof. After copying the spell, I returned the torque to the sorceress and handed her the amulet. She immediately disappeared.
It was an amplifying spell. The best I’d ever seen. But it didn’t give me the answer I sought. The torque didn’t give power to humans, it only increased power. So the Druids must have had power inside them for the torque to work. Was it a latent power triggered by something and enhanced by the torque?
I turned to the book for the answers. Inside its dry, brittle pages, were generations and generations of names dating back to the tenth century BCE and a warrior named Brennus. His name is listed first. A painted image to the left of the name depicts a massive, bearded warrior with sword in one hand, a brown shield in the other, and a gold torque around his neck.
Brennus had sixteen children. No wives were listed in the book. Every single one of the children was listed, but four names had lines scratched through them. Under all but the four, more names were scribbled. Although the handwriting varies wildly, this pattern continues throughout the book.
Marveling at the sheer number of names, I realized my mother succeeded in her task. Somehow, she found their unused power. With the torque, humans were able to amplify their power into something useable and powerful and pass it to their children and their children’s children. They became a new race of humans with magic—Druids.
A few centuries ago, the number of names started dwindling in count. Fewer babies were born, and even fewer lived. Now, Druids are almost extinct. But why?
Since the book came into my possession, I’ve been spending all my free time trying to figure out the mystery of the Druids’ power. If I can determine what makes Druids different from other humans, maybe I can help them find their magic and increase their numbers. Or maybe I can replicate the magic in all humans to help them evolve.
So far, it’s been an exercise in futility.
Fortunately, experiments are something I excel at, and the work has the added benefit of taking my mind off the mystery of my mother’s disappearance. A timer dings telling me to run another batch of blood.
* * *
Hours later,I wipe my brow and straighten my aching back. The latest batch of test tubes is ready to go. Each vial contains the blood of a Druid. With methodical precision, I load them into the centrifuge and turn it on.
While I wait for the machine to do its job and separate the components of the blood, I think back on the last week. Three times I’ve had to raise my dagger to defend my life against angels. It would have been four tonight, but a supernatural stepped in and saved me.
I left him to fight the battle. None of the angels have been the one I seek. The only one who might know something about my mother’s disappearance. It’s selfish, but I need to limit my exposure so I can keep searching for her.
