The Keeper's Retribution: A Chosen Novel (The Keepers Book 2) Read online

  An all-too-familiar rage began to burn within her. You don’t get to condemn us. With an angry bellow, Effie jumped across the chasm in the floor and hit the other side of the hall in a slide, her blade lodging itself into the Earth Shadow’s shin and slicing clean through. Scrambling up, she twisted and swung her second blade at the fiend’s neck.

  A blast of Air knocked her sideways, making her miss her mark.

  Effie let out a furious howl.

  The Earth Shadow dropped to the floor, unable to support its weight with only one leg. In front of her, the Air Shadow lifted its hand, spittle flying from its mouth as it snarled at her.

  Effie sucked in a ragged breath, her mind emptying as a vice clenched around her lungs.

  No!

  Nails scraped along her leg as the Earth Shadow pulled her to the floor. Stars exploded behind her eyes as the little bit of air she still had was knocked from her lungs.

  Above her, she could hear Ronan roar. Reyna had joined them, but Effie couldn’t see where she was, her vision going black at the edges. The healer was nowhere to be found.

  It was getting hard to think as she struggled to breathe. Swinging blindly, Effie lodged one of her blades into the Shadow crawling over her. Hot ichor spurted over her face and neck.

  Suddenly, the pressure on her chest lifted, and Effie sucked in breath after painful breath, her throat burning.

  Spots still dancing, she could only just make out the Shadow above her as it licked its lips and leaned down to sniff her.

  “So good,” it groaned, running its tongue along her neck and across the scar where its brethren had marked her.

  Disgust curled her lip, and Effie brought up both arms in a pale imitation of an embrace. With a loud grunt, she slid the blades through the back of the creature’s neck, almost entirely severing the head from its body.

  More of the foul liquid poured forth, but Effie didn’t care. She was too focused on pushing herself free of the Shadow, shoving her knee into its squishy chest and swinging her blade down to complete the kill.

  Her blood sang with fierce satisfaction as the severed head rolled away. Looking up, she saw that Ronan and Reyna had taken care of two of the beasts, leaving only one left. One that was no longer near them.

  Following their gazes, she found the last Shadow—and the healer. Or what was left of him. His eyes bulged from his head, blood dripping from every visible orifice as the Shadow played with him.

  She had no idea what element the creature might have controlled, never having seen anything like this before.

  “Hey!” Effie shouted, thinking only to stop the torture.

  It twisted its neck, turning to face her. It was practically bald, only a few wisps of hair clinging to its head as it sneered at her. “Wait your turn,” it hissed.

  Effie gagged as it used its perverted power once more, causing the healer’s swollen eyes to pop. More blood bubbled from its lips and nose, even after the healer was clearly dead.

  Body on fire with her fury, Effie launched herself at the Shadow with a hoarse cry.

  Ronan’s shouts sounded behind her, but Effie heard nothing over the sound of her racing heart.

  She tackled the beast, losing one of her cleavers in the process. Knowing she had no defense if it had the chance to turn its power on her, Effie slammed the base of her weapon down into the creature’s face. Bones crunched beneath her, and Effie roared, slashing and slamming the weapon down faster than she thought possible.

  There was no coherent thought, only the need to destroy.

  Again and again she brought her weapon down, seeing nothing in her bloodlust.

  Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Effie spun, snarling, her weapon raised and ready to strike.

  “Effie, Effie, it’s me! It’s dead. You can stop.”

  She blinked up at Ronan’s shocked face, not really seeing him. Shaking, Effie glanced back down. Not only had she severed the head from the body, she’d mutilated it beyond recognition.

  Instead of disgust, she felt a savage pride.

  Let the fiends come. She would tear them apart.

  If the Mother wouldn’t save them, Effie would.

  Chapter 30

  Kieran dragged the last of his prisoners through the portal with a satisfied grunt. When he’d laid the traps to catch the Keepers, he never imagined it would work so well. At his last count, he’d had a dozen of them locked up throughout the jungle, although two were missing when he went to claim them.

  Still, ten Shadow-touched were more than enough to cause a little chaos.

  To be fair, it wasn’t Keepers he’d intended to catch. Not at first. Unfamiliar with the way the corruption spread, he only guessed that trapping creatures in a contaminated area would cause them to turn.

  It wasn’t until he’d found the first poor bastard in his trap that he realized the potential. Corrupted animals were one thing, but to use their own members against them? There was a certain kind of poetic justice to that. It would land a much stronger, emotional blow against the Keepers.

  Besides, it never hurt to have an army on standby.

  Getting them out of their cages had been trickier than catching them. He may have played a part in creating these Shadow-touched, but they hardly saw him as any sort of leader. He was smart enough to know better than to go anywhere near them until they were restrained. Thankfully, he’d been prepared and had brought enough of the Bella Morte powder to knock them all out. Once unconscious, tying them up and dragging them through the jungle had been relatively easy.

  Tugging on the ropes he’d tied around the waists and wrists of his last three pets, Kieran pulled them through the empty hallway and shoved them into a nearby room. They’d deteriorated quickly since he’d seen them last. No longer capable of speech, the once revered Keepers were now little more than animals.

  Savage, blood-thirsty animals.

  The Bella Morte had just started to wear off, his last dose significantly weaker than the first couple. It was hard to know how much he’d have to use, and Kieran cursed himself for wasting too much of the drug on his first batch.

  He’d need to hurry now; they were starting to regain consciousness. The first Shadow-touched opened its eyes and immediately growled at him, gnashing its teeth and struggling against its bindings. The others stirred. Kieran knew the ropes wouldn’t contain them for long. Not once the drug wore off and they were no longer under its effects.

  Not wanting to be anywhere near them when they managed to escape, Kieran dropped their ropes and slammed the door shut. His other pets should already be free by now. It was time to see how they were faring.

  As he moved deeper into the citadel, he started to hear the screams.

  Satisfaction settled deep in his belly. Excellent.

  Turning the corner, Kieran came to a sudden halt. Where there had once been a spiraling staircase leading up to a series of bedrooms and meditation suites, there was now nothing. The entire section of the citadel was gutted, stone and wood piled in a series of tiny mountains, blocking his way. Weak afternoon light shone down and illuminated the tiny dust motes that continued to rain down from the area above.

  “Elder’s sagging sack,” he murmured. How in the hell had a handful of Shadow-touched managed this?

  Tingling started in the base of his spine, and Kieran glanced around, suddenly uneasy.

  Doubling back, Kieran raced through a separate hallway, this one leading him to a courtyard that jutted off from one of the main archives. The deeper into the building he went, the more frequent the pile of bodies became.

  He lost count after thirty.

  Surely the Guardians should have been able to make short work of the Shadow-touched. It wasn’t like they had the power of . . .

  Kieran wasn’t able to complete the thought as his eyes landed on two lumbering figures standing in the courtyard.

  Shadows.

  Where the fuck did they come from?

  Kieran froze, his mouth opening and closing as he trie
d to make sense of what he was seeing.

  As more Shadows joined their brethren in the courtyard, everything clicked into place. It all made sense. The destruction. The body count.

  There was only one way this was possible.

  The Shadows had been hiding in the jungle this whole time.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  These new sentient creatures were much more terrifying than their predecessors. Ever since shaking off the hold of their maker, they’d regained the ability to think and rationalize. As a result, they were now able to strategize and avoid detection by the Guardians—something that had never been possible before when their wills had been bound to another.

  Kieran’s thoughts were coming faster now. Each sickening puzzle piece falling into place as his blood turned to ice.

  The only way any Shadow could have made it into the citadel, let alone a group of this magnitude, was if they’d followed Kieran through one of the portals. Portals they never would have been able to find, let alone access, without him showing them the way.

  As he watched, one of the Shadows leaned down and bit into a fallen Keeper. The man let out a pathetic scream as he struggled weakly against the creatures hold. Around him, the other Shadows let out victorious cheer as they followed suit, tearing into as many of the fallen as they could get their hands on.

  It was then that Kieran knew. Khouman’s frantic story converged with what he was seeing before him. The Caederan scouting party had been attacked by Shadows. Even though they’d been healed, no one could save them in the end. One by one, the scouts had turned, irrevocably changed until nothing of the people they’d been remained.

  Kieran had never been the one building an army. It had been them the whole time. The Shadows. They had found a way to turn others.

  For weeks they’d been traveling throughout Elysia spreading their fucking plague, while the Chosen scratched their arses trying to figure out what was happening. And now it was too late.

  How many more would turn before anyone was the wiser?

  Kieran’s stomach rolled, guilt and panic warring inside of him. He’d known his actions would have casualties, but he hadn’t cared. He’d wanted to teach the smug bastards a lesson. But never, never had he meant for this to happen.

  Not that anyone would believe him.

  They would condemn him first and ask questions later.

  He couldn’t be here when they figured out what he’d done.

  Heart pounding like a death knell, Kieran rushed back to the portal room. The screams of the dying chasing him the entire way.

  The citadel was the only home he’d had left, and now it was little less than ruins. Soon it wouldn’t be more than a pile of rubble.

  Because of him.

  He had nothing left. No home. No love. No future.

  Heart heavy, Kieran raced through a portal, not caring where it led him and never once looking back.

  Chapter 31

  Ronan grabbed Effie beneath her arm and heaved her up from the floor.

  “Come, Effie. We need to help the others.”

  Wiping her face on her forearm, Effie adjusted her grasp on her weapon and turned away from the corpse below her.

  “Let’s go,” she said, oddly calm despite the world falling down around them.

  The walls continued to shake every few seconds, large cracks snaking down the walls and ceiling.

  Screams continued to surround them as they pushed through the citadel. Closing her eyes, Effie let the sounds fuel her rage. So long as she stayed angry, she would be strong enough to do what needed to be done.

  Ronan led the way, Reyna beside him. Effie trailed behind them, stepping carefully as the building continued to shake. It wasn’t long before they started to see the bodies of the fallen, like gruesome mile markers leading them to the heart of the battle. Gritting her teeth, Effie stepped over them, trying not to let herself think about the fact that she couldn’t recall their names.

  “Ronan, look,” Reyna said, pointing to a particularly grizzly mound of bodies. “Weapons.”

  Effie watched Reyna lift a quiver and bow from a puddle of thick blood and sling them over her shoulder. As her eyes roved over the desecrated remains of her peers, Effie should have been disgusted. As it was, she couldn’t manage more than idle curiosity. Body parts that should have never seen the light of day were strewn across the floor, the bodies that once contained them no longer recognizable as anything but meat. What would a Shadow have to do to turn someone into that?

  Still kneeling, Reyna grabbed two swords and a mace.

  Ronan accepted all three, holding the shorter of the swords out to Effie. Without a word, she took it from him and wiped the blade clean on her pants.

  “Ah, look, it’s my favorite mousie.”

  The voice was barely human, but Effie recognized it all the same, her body going completely still as a surge of anticipation worked its way through her.

  “Tess,” she growled, twisting to the left to find the Shadow-touched woman flanked by two others.

  “Keepers, retreat!”

  The part of Effie that was still her, registered shock at the Triumvirate’s order. The new, primal part of her ignored it, wholly intent on revenge. She stepped forward, both her blades raised.

  “Effie! Effie, fall back, you heard the order,” Ronan shouted, already turning to obey.

  “No! This bitch is the reason for the attack. I’m not letting her get away again.”

  A manic cackle bounced off the walls at her words. “Is that what you believe? You didn’t let me do anything, little mouse.”

  “The citadel has fallen.”

  Any remaining sanity fled with the words. Effie’s sanctuary was gone. The Shadows stole it from her, and now they must die. Starting with this one.

  Ronan grabbed her arm and pulled hard enough to bruise. “Effie. It’s time to go. You heard the Triumvirate; the citadel is lost.”

  Effie whirled on Ronan, shoving her elbow into his stomach. “Get off me, unless you want to be next.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Effie—”

  “Look at her, Ronan. She’s not herself,” Reyna murmured beside him, leaning against the wall for support. Her expression was pinched, her mouth a tight line. Her energy was rapidly diminishing, soon she wouldn’t be able to remain standing.

  “Better take care of your woman, Shield.”

  Torn, Ronan looked between them, his loyalties divided.

  “If you want to run and hide, then go,” Effie snarled. “I don’t need you.”

  Ronan took a step toward her, looking determined. “I will drag you out if I have to. I’m not leaving you alone.”

  Behind her, the Shadow-touched laughed, the sound fraying her already thin patience.

  “Try it and I’ll geld you.”

  Ronan paled, but reached for her anyway.

  Effie swung her blade down, twisting her wrist just before she made contact so the flat end smacked his arm. “Next time I won’t miss, and it won’t be you I’m aiming for.” She purposefully let her eyes fall on Reyna, her voice low and laced with malice.

  The Night Stalker’s eyes widened and her throat bobbed.

  Shaking his head, Ronan stepped back. “Effie,” he tried a final time, his voice pleading. “Don’t do this.”

  “Don’t you see? This is all there is,” she said, turning away from him and leveling her gaze on the trio before her.

  “What about Lucian?” he asked, his voice sounding far away.

  “What about him?”

  There was a soft feminine gasp of pain and then Ronan grunted. “I’ll be back for you.”

  Effie was past hearing, focused only on the three beings standing before her. A ball of flame hurled past her shoulder, setting two of the three alight. Ronan must have truly given up if he was willing to risk his Fire. But even that bit of help wasn’t enough to redeem him in her mind. A true warrior never would have run from the fight.

  Neither woman
so much as flinched at the shrieks of pain coming from the smoldering bodies writhing on the floor. They’d be dead soon. No need to waste energy thinking about them when the true fight was before them.

  Effie adjusted her grip on her weapons, her eyes never leaving Tess’ cruel grin. She’d already taken down two Shadows today. A single, Shadow-touched woman would be no match for her.

  They were in a small alcove, the area opening up where two hallways joined. There wasn’t much space to maneuver, but there was enough. So long as Ronan’s Fire continued to burn down the hallway behind Tess and not switch directions, Effie would have long enough to finish the kill without any other of Tess’ Shadow friends joining the party.

  Tess remained motionless, her hands splayed by either side of her body. “What are you waiting for?” she crooned.

  “Just savoring the suspense,” Effie replied, her voice a dark purr.

  “Before you die, little mouse?” Tess asked, tilting her head as the black veins slithered obscenely in her eyes.

  “Before I kill you.”

  Effie raised her sword, legs pumping as she raced forward, only to stop short with a startled cry as the muscles in her arm began to spasm. The pain ricocheted down the right side of her body, almost blinding her with its intensity. This was ten-times worse than what happened in the shower, the muscles in her arm tearing and snapping as if they were coming undone.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped, eyes wide as she stared up at the Shadow-touched woman.

  Tess didn’t answer, but her smile widened. The sight of her joy bringing with it a fleeting moment of panic.

  Looking down at her arm, Effie blinked rapidly. Something was slithering beneath her skin. The muscles and tendons in her arm shifted, trying to adjust to make room for whatever was moving inside of her.

  The pain was absolute, Effie’s eyes tearing as her body tried to rearrange itself.

  Tess started to laugh, watching with a malicious glee. “Looks like I don’t need to do anything.”

  “No!” Effie growled behind clenched teeth, refusing to let this abomination win.