Children of Enochia by Luke R. Mitchell

Author:Luke R. Mitchell [Mitchell, Luke R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-30T22:00:00+00:00

25

Overloaded

It was something I’d never wanted to remember again after the White Hall: just how breathtakingly quickly a raknoth could deal out death to a crowd of unarmed civilians. Seven gave me no choice but to remember.

Three more lay dead by the time I caught the raknoth with telekinesis and smashed her to the ground. I slid my sole dagger free from the sheath, darting forward through the field of abandoned belongings and fallen civilians. Seven didn’t stay down willingly. Or long.

Keeping her pinned for more than a few seconds would have already been hard enough on its own. With the steady stream of true believers rushing forward to bring me Alpha’s divine justice at the point of a dagger, or the blunt face of a makeshift club, though, it quickly became impossible. I dodged and slogged my way through the mess as best I could, desperately trying to catch Seven as she broke free from my hold and leapt back to the slaughter.

“She’s a raknoth!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, batting aside one poorly-aimed cane, telekinetically yanking another’s dagger to my own hand. “Get the scud out of here, you idiots! She’ll kill you all!”

They didn’t listen.

But what I lacked in crowd-turning ferocity, Seven was clearly more than making up for. When I parted through the last few zealots and into a pocket of open space, I almost thought the opposite. Seven was splayed out, still standing but held immobile by what must’ve been at least ten civilians practically piled on top of her, gripping desperately at any limb or part of her they could manage to get a hand on.

I wasn’t sure how the strength of ten panic-crazed humans might match up against a raknoth’s. Seven, tilting her head back in laughter, didn’t seem all that interested in finding out.

A woman charged in from the crowd and plunged a dagger toward Seven’s heart.

The air detonated with a booming shockwave before the blade fell, and every one of Seven’s brave captors went smashing into the pale courtyard stone, or rocketing into the crowd like human ballistics. All of them but the woman with the dagger, who Seven had caught by the throat and now held aloft for everyone to bear witness as she broke the poor woman’s neck with one hand.

That did it. After that, even the wild-eyed zealots eyeing me like it would’ve been the highlight of Enochian history to pick up where their compatriots had failed and sink a dagger through my demonic heart turned and ran for their Alpha-loving lives in the wake of the raknoth’s mad spree.

I was shaking, overcome with the raw violence of it all, flinching away from the growing pile of bodies, and the memory of Al’Kundesha breaking my dad’s neck as Seven had just done with that poor woman. I clutched at my mismatched daggers, barely aware of the cuts and throbbing aches I’d accumulated from my slog through the crowd. Barely aware of anything but the burning need to bury those daggers through Seven’s head and end this madness.

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