Raven's Fall (World on Fire Book 2) Read online

  Built in a seventeenth-century style, it stood five stories tall. Due to the nearly impassable roads, while the snow fell, it had closed for the winter. Several kilometers of difficult terrain hid the hotel away from any nearby towns. Visitors would have to travel up and down switchback roads through the mountains to get here. All of this meant that they wouldn’t have to worry about people stumbling into their hideout.

  A converted and reinforced guest room on the first floor made Abigail’s holding cell. They had barred shut the windows, and two armed guards stood outside at all times to keep an eye on her.

  She’d tested the effectiveness of her prison during her first weeks in here and found it lacking. To break through the walls and slip free wouldn’t have been difficult, given enough time, which meant that they assumed she wouldn’t attempt any escape due to her morals.

  Unfortunately for her, they had it right. Abigail had no intention of running away. If she left now, her guilt would solidify in the eyes of the Council, and they would most assuredly find her guilty.

  Her patience wore thin. She’d been tucked away in this hotel room for four months now—much longer than she’d anticipated when they first arrested her. The Council hadn’t even begun hearing her case. They were, allegedly, gathering evidence and giving Frieda and Aram time to build their cases for and against her defense. All that meant, in reality, was that the Council members sat on their hands and refused to do anything.

  Business as usual.

  The trail of the person from Raven’s Peak had long since grown cold: finding him should be the Council’s priority, not deciding if Abigail had broken some of their stupid rules. Whatever artifact the thief had stolen from that cave had importance, and the culprit didn’t plan on using it to slice vegetables.

  Abigail had tried explaining to the Council how dangerous the situation was months ago, but they hadn’t taken her seriously. The problem lay in the fact that Aram Malhotra provided her only point of contact outside this prison. He had charge of the Council’s temporary mountain citadel, and so they’d assigned him to keep watch over her until the trial commenced. He hadn’t even come to speak to her once during her imprisonment.

  To be honest, that was probably for the best. After everything that had taken place with Haatim and The Ninth Circle, Abigail didn’t trust Aram as far as she could throw him. As soon as they cleared her name, after this stupid trial, and let her back out into the world, she intended to look into all of Aram’s shady dealings and find out exactly what was going on and the nature of his involvement.

  A knock came on the door, causing Abigail to pause midstride. She turned just as the door opened. Dominick stood there. In his late thirties with brown hair and brown eyes, he looked a handsome man. One of her few friends, he never treated her poorly or treated her like an outcast as many of the other members did.

  “Don’t take too long,” one of the guards said from outside the room. She recognized the voice as Jim Fronson, one of her least favorite people and a Hunter who hated her. Dominick didn’t respond, but instead, closed the door behind him and shook his head.

  “What a jerk,” he said.

  Abigail felt certain that he’d said it loud enough that Jim could hear him through the door, which, knowing Dominick, was his exact intention. He walked across the room toward her, stopping a few feet away and sizing her up.

  “You look terrible,” he said, smirking at her. “Confinement doesn’t suit you.”

  “Great to see you too, Dom,” she said. “I thought you were in Germany?”

  “I was,” he said. “But I had enough schnitzel, so I asked for another assignment. Did you know they drink beer warm there? Tastes like piss when it isn’t cold.”

  “Are you here to guard me?” she asked.

  “Jim’s got that covered,” Dominick said. “Along with some mercenaries.”

  “We’re hiring mercenaries now?” Abigail raised her eyes.

  Dominick shrugged. “Dark times. Only twenty-three Hunters left and no recruitment to speak of.”

  “Twenty-three?” Abigail chewed her lip. “I thought we had twenty-five.”

  Dominick frowned. “You haven’t heard? James Scott and Louis Lamoure got killed about a month ago.”

  “How?”

  “No idea. Someone found them, and it wasn’t pretty.”

  Abigail had liked James and Louis, and it saddened her to hear that they had died. It also surprised her because it wasn’t that common for one of their own to get killed.

  “How long are you here?”

  “Not sure yet,” Dominick said. “Got back into town last night.”

  “Here to keep an eye on me? Make sure I don’t try to escape?”

  “I’m supposed to shoot you if you do,” he said.

  “You’d miss anyway. Never were much of a shot.”

  “Hey, I resemble that remark.” He grinned. The smile disappeared almost as soon as it came, however, as he sobered up. Dominick hesitated, and then said, “I should have gotten here sooner. When I heard they had you locked up, I wanted to come, but things have been so busy, and I always found an excuse not to make the trip.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it isn’t. I owe more than that to Arthur, and I definitely owe it to you. I should have reached out sooner, and I’m sorry.”

  Abigail fell silent for a moment. “You’re here now.”

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “How are you holding up?”

  “Not too bad. Everyone treats me like I’m some kind of animal, and no one will tell me a damn thing about what’s going on, but at least I get fresh towels.”

  “That’s rough.”

  “I don’t even know when my trial is supposed to start.”

  “Next week,” Dominick said. “That’s what I heard. Frieda is on her way, and then the trial will get underway.”

  “I thought Aram was overseeing things?” Abigail asked. “The trial is supposed to be remote.”

  “It is, and only Frieda is coming. She pulled some strings and got an exception. Aram is pretty pissed about it, but the Council already approved her coming to stay.”

  “What about security?”

  Dominick shrugged. “More mercenaries, I guess.”

  “How do you know about that?” Abigail asked. “That kind of information is above our pay grade and doesn’t trickle down to our level.”

  “I’m the one who flew Frieda in,” Dominick said. “Her train came into Lausanne yesterday, and I brought her out here.”

  “Fly?”

  “Snows started early this year, and we’ve had a rough couple of days. All of the roads have closed until they can get trucks out here. Should open by next week, but for now, we’re just flying. I brought in her and Haatim.”

  “Haatim? He’s with Frieda?”

  “Yeah,” Dominick said. “She’s filled him in on the Council and Order.”

  “Not his father?”

  Dominick shrugged. “Rumor has it they don’t talk much anymore, but I guess that’ll change while Haatim is living here. Only met him the once myself, when I flew them in. From everything I’ve heard, he’s clueless.”

  Abigail chuckled softly. “You’re telling me.”

  “Frieda asked me to come so I could train him.”

  “Is she training him to be a Hunter?”

  “I don’t think so. Just teaching him how to survive. I’m supposed to give him the basics and a couple of advanced lessons.”

  “Go easy on him,” Abigail said. “He’s sensitive.”

  Dominick burst out laughing. “I used to have a dog that was sensitive. Peed on the carpet all the time.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that from Haatim,” Abigail said.

  “Don’t worry, if there’s any iron in that kid,” Dominick said. “I’ll find it.”

  Abigail nodded. If anyone could help Haatim get a crash course in the world he’d stumbled into, Dominick could. He could be brutal and harsh, and Haatim w
ould be in for a rough couple of weeks, but by the time he’d done, Haatim would be a completely different person.

  Dominick’s expression grew pensive, and it felt like the air grew heavier around her. He folded his arms across his chest and looked away.

  “This isn’t good, Abi.”

  He’d shifted the conversation and talked about her trial now.

  “I know,” she said.

  “Aram wants to charge you with treason. He wants to dismiss you from the Order and have you executed. This is serious.”

  “I know,” she said. “But, after everything that happened in Raven’s Peak, he won’t be able to, will he?”

  “No one is quite sure what happened out there. Reports are still coming in, but they’re conflicting. Other things have come up, though, and it won’t just be about Raven’s Peak. These things won’t help in your defense.”

  “Things like what?”

  Dominick hesitated. “Did you speak with a demon without Council consent?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We found Delaphene at Arthur’s cabin. She’d been there for weeks and was rambling, but she remembered talking to you quite clearly.”

  Abigail’s stomach dropped. “I …”

  Dominick frowned and shook his head. “Abi …”

  “I needed to know …”

  “Needed to know what?” Dominick narrowed his eyes. “What could possibly be so important that you would break the Council’s laws to find out?”

  “How to find Arthur.” She hung her head. “I can’t leave him there with those demons, Dom. It’s my fault they have him in the first place. I can’t just abandon him, can I?”

  He sighed. “No, but it looks awful, Abigail. Frieda thinks she can make the charge go away. Delaphene isn’t exactly a reliable witness, but they also have a lot of little things. You know you weren’t supposed to go near Sara or any of the girls that Arthur rescued. It was a direct Council order.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Abigail said. “And, I helped Sara. Her scar is gone, and the link is closed. She’s safe now.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Dominick said. “The order came from the Council, not from Frieda. If they find out, then they won’t take it lightly.”

  “What do you mean?” Abigail asked. “You said ‘if they find out.’”

  “A report came to me from Richard Abernathy about what you did at the park, and I passed it along to Frieda. Right now, it’s need-to-know, and we haven’t told anyone else.”

  “You mean they don’t know?”

  “I mean they don’t know right now. Richard is loyal, but who knows if the Council could find out some other way. If they do, it’ll look bad.”

  “I know,” Abigail said. “But I had to discover the truth.”

  “They’ll try to use it all as evidence that you’ve turned. A sort of roadmap for your fall from grace.”

  “What do you mean? They want to say I’m going to end up like Arthur?”

  “Worse,” he said. “Aram and some of his cronies want to blame you for what happened to Arthur.”

  The words hit her like a truck. Shocked, a light breeze could have blown her over in that moment. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It’s just Aram blowing smoke.” Dominick put a hand up, palm outward. “But it’s a hefty accusation. A lot of the Council respected Arthur, and they want an excuse for why he turned.”

  “I loved Arthur like a father. How the hell do they think I could have had something to do with—?”

  “I know, Abi.” Dominick reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I know, and you know, and everyone who matters knows what’s in your heart. They’re just saying anything they can to try to discredit you. It’s only a few people who support Aram, and the rest of the Council will see right through his lies.”

  Abigail sighed, forcing herself to calm down. “You’re right.”

  “Frieda isn’t having any of it. The Council keeps overreaching and overstepping. She’s supposed to be in charge of the Hunters, yet they keep challenging her authority and trying to micromanage. She’ll not rest until your name is cleared.”

  Abigail hesitated. “Or, until I’m dead.”

  Dominick frowned. “Don’t think that way. Everything is going to work out. Have faith.”

  “I haven’t had much of that these last months,” she said. “But I’ll try.”

  He checked his watch, and then glanced back up at her. “I have to go. I have a meeting with Aram in a couple of minutes, and then I’m heading back to the city to wait for Frieda and Haatim. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m fine.”

  “All right. Keep your chin up and stay positive. I’ll come back as soon as I’m free and make sure you’re okay. We’ll take care of all of this, and you’ll be back in business in a couple of weeks. You’ll see.”

  Abigail nodded, but she didn’t believe his words. She doubted he believed them either. They had such devastating evidence against her, and so many Hunters and Council members disliked her.

  Dominick gave her a quick hug, and then headed toward the door. He flashed her one last smile before leaving. Abigail found herself in the cell alone once more, suffocating under the weight of everything and powerless to influence anything.

  She stood there, thinking about what her friend had said, and trying to convince herself that all of this could have a happy ending. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop thinking about the idea that people blamed her for what had happened to Arthur.

  How could they possibly think she’d had anything to do with what he did? Only a child when he’d taken her in, an orphan with no one to turn to for help, he’d raised and trained her. Abigail hadn’t even been with him when he had his breakdown. Hadn’t seen him for months before that fateful day.

  How could they possibly hold her responsible for something she had no control over?

  A few minutes later, she found herself pacing back and forth across the room, trying to clear her head and get rid of the emotions raging inside. She clenched and unclenched her fists, glancing down at the wrist she’d broken when the demon had possessed her body all those months ago.

  When she’d killed Arthur.

  It didn’t hurt anymore. It had, in fact, almost fully recovered since that day in the Church. Even the scars had disappeared. She’d expected to have those cuts for the rest of her life, a constant reminder of when she had failed and lost her mentor, but they had healed far better than expected.

  A miraculous recovery, but one that meant little in the greater scheme of things. Not for the first time, she wondered if these would be her last weeks on Earth.

  Chapter 3

  Both confused and hopeful, Haatim left the meeting with his father. The meeting hadn’t been what he’d expected, but it had gone quite well. He looked forward to spending time in the hotel and seeing more of his father.

  Haatim also felt gladdened that he’d gotten to state his position about the trial. He’d known his father would disagree but didn’t want it to turn into something more. His father had it wrong about her—about everything. Old-fashioned about a lot of things, his father, but it pleased Haatim that they could have a disagreement without it devolving into a screaming match.

  The problem was, however, that his father’s opinion influenced Abigail’s future directly. The idea that a Council of people prepared to make a decision about whether or not someone lived or died seemed unfathomable to Haatim.

  Very dark-age, to be honest. He could understand their desire for secrecy and the need to punish disobedience. They battled against creatures that wanted to kill and possess people, and so, mistakes could wind up costly.

  But the idea that Abigail would be put to death if the Council decided it was …

  Insane. The only good word Haatim could think of that fit. He found it hard to wrap his head around just how high the stakes of this trial rose.

  When he made it up to his room, his bre
aths came heavy. The building had so many stairs, and the idea that he would need to walk up them every day seemed ridiculous. Especially when a perfectly good elevator lay only a short ways away.

  However, he didn’t want to get on Dominick’s bad side, at least not this early in the relationship. Dominick seemed like a fun-loving and slightly wild person, and completely different from Frieda’s strict attention to practice and routine. What, exactly, would his “training” entail?

  Certainly, Frieda had never ordered him to walk up the stairs instead of using the elevator.

  Haatim dropped off his stuff, and then headed back out. Exhausted, he wanted to take a nap, but still had one more stop to make before he could rest. He walked down the stairs and through the hall toward Abigail’s holding cell.

  He admired the surrounding decorations. Tapestries hung on the walls in muted earth-tones, detailing a regional history that he knew nothing about. The artwork looked intricate and clean, and everything felt ancient but cared for immaculately.

  It felt as though he’d stepped back in time a few hundred years. The entire place had an almost gothic feel to it that appealed to his sensibilities.

  Two guards stood in the hallway outside the room that held Abigail. One seemed a short man with greasy hair and rough features, and the other, tall and lanky with a baby face that only a mother could love.

  Both of them stood armed with assault rifles and wore bored expressions. The short one looked Haatim over while he approached, dismissing him completely as a threat. Haatim couldn’t decide if he should feel offended, and then decided not to.

  “Yes? Name and business?” The guy held his rifle in a non-threatening manner, but his eyes said he would shoot Haatim in a second without even the slightest regret.

  “I’m Haatim Arison. Just got here a few hours ago.”

  The guy stuck out his hand, and Haatim grasped it.

  “I’m Jim; this is Mike. We haven’t met, have we?”