Page 19 of The Healing Dragon (The Red Book #2)

He finally turns in my direction. His gaze moves from my eyes to my lips as if searching for something. I am about to ask him what he is doing when he steps closer and kisses me.

The touch of his lips is fleeing but scorching.

“Willingly,” he says as he steps back.

Someone throws the first blow. Jesse deflects it easily, casting a shield above the three of us.

The hit radiates off us and bounces back.

The men expect this counter attack and deflect sideways.

We can only watch as the blow is sent to the back side of the room.

Screams from the remaining captives ring in the room, but it dies as their voices do.

“Harder!” a man from the back barks at the front line.

Like good obedient dogs, they collectively push forward, tossing blow after blow our way.

Jesse’s shield holds on, but from how sweat trickles down his temple, it won’t be for long.

I’m useless outside of hand to hand combat.

Even the shittiest soldier would have me dead in a minute if he used magic against me. I have no way of helping Jesse.

“Tell me you have daggers on you,” Jesse says between clenched teeth.

I pat my pants down. In the commotion I forgot I don’t have to be next to someone to be deadly.

I nod and gesture at the two men ahead. Having some background info on my father’s men is finally coming in handy.

I narrow my eyes to my targets. Jesse promptly lowers and then raises the shields.

There’s just enough time for me to throw and bury my two daggers in the front of two men’s skulls.

Their bodies drop to the ground in what feels like slow motion.

Their knees touch the ground before their heads flop forward.

The men behind them take a second to process what happened before a blooming red puddle grows beneath them.

Anger erupts in growls and renewed energy.

Their attempts to break Jesse’s shield triple.

We keep getting pushed back until our backs touch the wall behind us.

We hold on for a while longer. My father’s men might be trained, but they are not as powerful as an Oscuro.

When I think one of them is tiring out and the amount of attacks thrown our way is going to decrease, another man steps forward and takes over.

Waiting out seems to be the only way out of here, but how long will it possibly take?

“I won’t be able to hold forever,” Jesse says.

Sweat is dripping down his chin, and his skin is taking a pale tint. The shield he has formed splinters with each blow. We both stare at it, knowing that any minute now it’s going to fall.

Jesse opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, grumbles from the other side of the shield snap our attention.

We watch in horror as the two men with the blades in their heads raise to their feet.

If it wasn’t for the look of horror and disgust from the men around them, I would have thought they did this.

No, the men instead shout to one another and scurry away from their dead friends.

We all watch as one of the dead men yanks out the blade from his head and turns on his friends. One corpse jumps on a soldier and bashes their skull in two moves. The other one uses magic to fend off attempts by the others to stop them.

“They can use magic,” I say.

“How?” Jesse asks.

“Me.”

The voice is small and shakily like it hasn’t been used in a while. Jesse and I don’t move from our spot against the wall, but we turn to the sound of the voice.

Matias.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Matias says to me as he raises to his feet. “Sorry it took me so long. I was far away from here.” He taps his temple like it’s a place he departed for.

“You did that?” Jesse asks him while pointing at the now three dead men fighting my father’s soldiers.

“I guess I did.” He looks down at his hands like he is also having trouble believing what just happened.

“How?” Jesse looks between Matias and the walking corpses.

“Every time they tried to uncap my magic, and I didn’t die, they thought nothing happened. They were wrong.”

“Wrong?” I ask.

“The book,” he says. “It wants revenge.”

Matias takes his head between his hands and bends down. His face is scrunched up in pain.

“What is wrong now?” Jesse asks.

I look back at the now six dead men finishing the soldiers. They were first hesitant to fight their own fallen men, but they no longer are. Now it is too late, and they are outnumbered.

“It has to stop,” Matias says between clenching teeth.

“I got it from here, buddy,” Jesse tells him, kneeling next to him. “Let go.”

Matias does and the walking bodies drop instantly.

The remaining men take a minute to look around and absorb what had just happened.

Jesse doesn’t hesitate to finish them. Black smoke drips down his fingertips and surrounds the few men.

They do not notice the smoke enveloping them until they lose their senses.

The Oscuro brothers have always been known for having dark, dangerous magic despite only a very few ever witnessing it. I, myself, have only watched it happen a handful of times over a lifetime. It never ceases to impress me. Magic like theirs is not common.

The smoke cuts their senses one by one until they see, hear, and feel only darkness. Then they become it.

“Oscuro dirt,” a man on the floor says before the smoke completely covers him. His hand waves in the air and from the drills of smoke, a glint of silver shines in the light.

It moves almost faster than possible. Perhaps we did not see it coming. Jesse grunts in pain as the dagger thrown from the smoke hits him in the shoulder.

“Jesse,” I call as his body hits the ground. I lean down over him and see the wound is a slight cut. “Oh, good.”

I place my hand above it and push healing magic into his skin.

Jesse looks at his shoulder, where now only a pink fading mark remains. “Looks like not even the King can take away a gift.”

I once read that gifts are not like regular magic because they weren't given to us by the Fates. The gifts given by angels only last a lifetime. Gifts like mine are passed down from generation to generation.

The sound of footsteps above snaps our attention away from our musing.

“They will soon come to check what is taking them so long to apprehend us.”

“Them?” Matias asks. “Is there more? ”

“Many,” Jesse says, getting up. “But we will not be here to greet them.”

We exit out of the back door. With no time for second-guessing, I lead Matias across the backyard and we hastily enter the forest. I think of my mother and Oliver, the only two individuals inside those walls that I care about.

I send a little prayer to the Fates. May they keep them safe and burn the rest of the house down.

The first fifteen minutes of walking into the forest are easy as the path is mostly tame, but as we get deeper inside, the flooring becomes a lot harder to cross.

I’m lending Matias my shoulder as a crutch while he tries to walk on his own.

That is when I sense we are not alone. The creatures in the forest are damned to be curious about us going so deep inside, but this specific energy is darker than anything I’ve encountered.

Before I can warn Jesse, who is walking in front of us, he stops and signals for me to freeze and be silent.

The wind picks up beside us and from the high vegetation around us, it’s not natural wind that rustles our clothes.

From the darkness in the trees, a figure takes form.

A long, tall figure is draped in a cloth that flies around its form.

The Calaca steps in our path. A menacing scowl on its face quickly turns into a scary grin.

I have never seen one in person before. They are creatures created from darkness. Servants of death, yet not connected to the underworld or the demons that rule its premises.

The Calaca steps closer to Jesse and tints its head lower to see him. I have only ever seen a few who have towered over Jesse, but never with this magnitude. I move before Matias, but I don’t let go of him as I shield him with my body.

“I saw you amongst the men and knew you were unseen by the rest,” Calaca tells Jesse. “I knew you were going to take the book back to your brother. ”

Its cloth moves effortlessly with the wind, showing glimpses of the bony structure underneath.

“As you are aware, we do not have the book,” Jesse says.

“Yes, I see you have failed.” Calaca looks between Jesse and me, then looks past me. Its eyes land on Matias for a second before it gasps and steps back. “You.” Calaca points at Matias like it has seen a ghost.

“Me?” Matias asks with furrowed brows.

Calaca doesn’t answer him. Instead, it inclines its head and bows low. “Sire.”

“Me?” Matia looks between Jesse and me before looking down at its hands. “Did I make you?”

“Your magic created me a long time ago.” Calaca moves closer to Matias with its head down.

“Back off,” I say, moving between them.

“I would never harm my sire.” The creature actually looks appalled at the idea.

I’ve no idea what the Red Book did to Matias, but it cannot be a good thing. Whatever can create a creature like Calaca isn’t good or pure. The darkness that creates a server of death is dangerous.

“Calaca, can you explain yourself?” Jesse says.

Calaca halts and raises their eyes to the sky. After a bit, it turns back to us. “You are being hunted. You must go.” It turns to Jesse with conviction. “Will your King keep my sire safe?”

“Yes.” Jesse nods.

No hesitation that the Black Castle will welcome Matias with open arms.

“Then my loyalty lies with your successful journey,” It says.

“My name is Matias, by the way. Sire makes me uncomfortable.” He looks between Calaca and Jesse.

“Matias,” Calaca says as it bows low. “I will do everything in my power to protect you, sire. You all go on. I will distract the hunters from your trail.”

I look at Jesse and our eyes meet. The concerned edge in his eyes is mirrored in mine.

We don't have to say a word to communicate how bad this is.

Matias is no longer the same boy who crossed my path in the forest months ago.

He isn't the boy whose soul was stolen by a cursed book.

Whatever the Red Book did to him changed him forever.

The darkness that answers to him is unnatural and dangerous.