Chapter 22
Treycore knocked on the cabin door. They’d parked the Winged Justice’s rigged semitruck in the gravel driveway of the place Aerysn’s directions had guided them to. Kid stepped beside him, and Treycore felt the impulse to shove Kid back in case they were walking into a trap.
As much as Aerysn had been there for them at the Nest and the Colosseum of Parasonia, neither he nor Kid could really know if he was on their side, or if he and his accomplice had their own plans for them that didn’t involve helping them take down Janka and his army of Morarkes and grundars. He’d feel better once he saw Kinzer, but not until then.
He knocked again, awaiting something—so much as a stir inside—but again, nothing.
“Let’s just break down the door,” Lanzar’s voice came from behind them. He sounded annoyed as fuck. “I’ve been fighting monsters all day. I need some fucking grub.”
They’d been lucky in their journey and only run into a few packs of grundars, and they had easily triumphed against them because of the Winged Justice’s fighting skills as well as their eagerness to take on the beasts. But the battles had left them tired and wanting to take a load off. In Treycore’s case, he wanted to dump that load inside Kid.
Of course, as much as they needed to rest, Treycore knew no one would have an easy time when they were facing off against the apocalypse.
After a few more moments of waiting, Treycore tried the doorknob.
Locked.
He knocked again before he heard a set of footsteps on the other side, then a click.
Kid and Treycore glanced at one another, Kid’s face scrunched up with concern. Treycore tried the knob again. It turned that time. He removed his sword from its sheath, pushing against the door so that it creaked open. He braced himself for a fight as he stepped inside.
“Ah-ha!” a voice echoed through the room as someone came at him from the side, sword-first.
He turned and blocked the oncoming attack, the sound of clashing swords filling the room as his senses finally caught up with him. His mouth fell open.
“There’s my Trey,” Eilee said. “Surprised to see me?”
Indeed he was. Before he could respond, she reared her head back, then jerked forward, her face slipping between their swords before she butted her forehead against his. The blow was so powerful that he fell backward and tumbled onto the floor.
Eilee shifted her sword in her hand, gripping it by the hilt before jumping into the air. Her wings pushed out behind her, catching the air as she descended onto him with elegance and grace, driving her sword down at his chest. Just before the tip sliced into him, he smacked his sword against hers, forcing it to the side so that it punctured through the wooden floor.
The guys hurried in through the doorway, pulling out their weapons, but no one made a move to help Treycore. They watched the spectacle in awe. Unlike their battles against the grundars, it was clear they were totally taken aback, unsure of how to react to the show that took place before them, especially when it involved the most beautiful of all creations.
Despite his own bewilderment, Treycore knew how to respond. He kicked Eilee’s legs out from under her. She called out in surprise before flapping her wings and twisting her body, doing a backflip before landing a few feet from him.
While Treycore hurriedly stood back up, Eilee readied her sword for another go, her eyes lit up with eagerness and excitement. It was an image that reminded Treycore of the young Eilee he knew in the days when they would play and fight in the colosseum. Although, he suspected, given the questionable nature of her sanity, this particular instance wasn’t a game for her.
A sound beside Treycore caught his attention, and he turned enough that he could keep Eilee in his line of sight. Kinzer and Hayde—the flit he’d encountered before they’d raided Veylo’s mansion months earlier—descended a set of steps from the second floor of the cabin. Their eyes wide and their mouths open, they were clearly as confused by this as he was, which gave him hope that whenever Eilee had joined their team, she had at least appeared relatively normal.
Eilee went for him once again, testing his swordplay, but clearly not going in for the kill. She was teasing him, mocking him.
“It’s good to see you again, Eilee,” Treycore said, hoping to calm her.
She chuckled. It was a lighthearted gesture, childlike even. For a woman with as much experience as herself, it was a ruse, if not part of whatever madness had seized control of her mind. The soft, sweet sound that passed her lips escalated quickly into an all-out laugh before she attacked again, slashing her sword before him, this time clearly ready to seize an opportunity.
Treycore blocked the blow, and they continued sparring.
“This is delightful,” she shouted. “I’ve been so excited to see you again. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”
“Of course. You know I’ve more than missed you. I grieved you. I thought I’d lost you.”
She eyed him curiously. “Did you really grieve me, or are you saying that because you want to appease me?”
“Eilee, you know I care about you.”
She took a swing, one that was less playful, more calculated than her others. It caught him off guard, and she nipped him in his triceps, breaking the flesh, drawing blood. One of Eilee’s trimmed eyebrows rose higher than the other, and she beamed, her face seeming to glow with what daylight entered the living area she backed him into.
“Oh, I got you, Treycore,” she exclaimed before drawing her sword back and licking his blood from the tip. “It tastes just like you.” Her words were soft, seeming as innocent as if she’d taken a taste of ice cream.
