Night of Nyx (The Nightfall Chronicles 2.5) Read Online Free
Author: Karpov Kinrade
cause.
Nightfall turns to Trix. "Have you received any messages from the other rebel groups?"
She nods and sips her wine. "We've received messages all right, but they aren't good, N. No one wants to meet with you."
This is new to Zorin. He expected some to decline, but not all, not with the video of Nightfall destroying an aircraft playing across the world.
"Do they give a reason?" Nightfall asks.
"They say, 'If Jaxton Lux declined her offer, then why shouldn't I?' I've told them you secured my escape," Trix says. "It hasn't helped."
"Contact them again," Nightfall say. "Tell them I have outsmarted Ragathon, Grandmaster of the Inquisition, twice. And when I do so for the third time, with their help, it will be to end the Inquisition."
Trix whistles. "Big words, N."
"Too big," says TR. "The Red Eagles and Sons of Eden will think you're bluffing."
"I'm not. Tell them."
Trix nods. "Alright, N, but if you ask me, you need to focus on something smaller first. Something that can show the leaders you can win this war."
"More Nephilim would draw their attention." Zorin sips from a silver cup—not wine, but blood—the taste sweet on his tongue. Nightfall stares at his drink.
She frowns. "We won't create new Nephilim, but we can search for old ones." She points to Zorin. "You were kept alive. There must be others."
The door behind them creaks. A parched voice speaks. "You will find none." Zorin does not need to turn around to know who it is, but Nightfall spins and draws her sword.
An old man, cloaked in black, a thick shackle on each wrist, stands before them. "You will find none," he says. "Except me."
CHAPTER 3
His muscles burn. Sweat drips into his eyes. He lunges, thrusts, moves through the dance of swords with the ease and skill of one trained long ago. One trained in the art of war. It is one of the most advanced forms, the Way of Erebus. An ancient practice lost to this world, but not to him.
Zorin remembers.
He knows what he must do tonight. He also knows it is a fool's plan, inspired by a fool's wish to save yet another person who has snuck into his heart.
"You put too much trust in her," Carter says as he steps onto the roof of the Cathedral, where Zorin is practicing.
Zorin does not slow his movements, his blade catching the light of the moon as it becomes a blur in his hands, moving so fast he could kill several opponents before they even knew he was there.
"You shouldn't be here," Zorin says as his sword hums.
"I should be where you are. It is she who should not be here."
Zorin stops. The action is sudden, and even the air currents struggle to keep pace with the tall man's change in trajectory. "We need her. She will save this world. And our people."
Zorin’s sword vanishes in his hands, a power of his blade, and he expands his wings.
Carter looks up at him, a frown on his weathered face. "She's dangerous."
"It has to be her. I am no longer the leader our people need. She is." Zorin steps to the edge of the roof. "Keep her safe while I am gone."
"Where are you going?"
"To save Nightfall."
***
Zorin has not flown like this since before his captivity. He can still feel the blood of his earlier meal filling him, strengthening him. He is quicker than any plane, flying at speeds so fast no mortal eyes would see him even if they could reach their vision to these heights.
It takes mere hours to travel from New York to Italy, to the place he has avoided since he lost his wife.
Dawn is just beginning to break on this side of the world, pink and golden rays of sun peeking out from the darkness. The villa he stands before is bathed in this virgin light, like a halo.
His heart pounds in his chest, and he remembers Danika. He remembers how they lay in the gardens, feeding each other sweet berries. How they walked the stone ivy-covered halls, her soft hand brushing against his. How they danced in the greatroom below a ceiling of stars.
The garden is overgrown now. The
Nightfall turns to Trix. "Have you received any messages from the other rebel groups?"
She nods and sips her wine. "We've received messages all right, but they aren't good, N. No one wants to meet with you."
This is new to Zorin. He expected some to decline, but not all, not with the video of Nightfall destroying an aircraft playing across the world.
"Do they give a reason?" Nightfall asks.
"They say, 'If Jaxton Lux declined her offer, then why shouldn't I?' I've told them you secured my escape," Trix says. "It hasn't helped."
"Contact them again," Nightfall say. "Tell them I have outsmarted Ragathon, Grandmaster of the Inquisition, twice. And when I do so for the third time, with their help, it will be to end the Inquisition."
Trix whistles. "Big words, N."
"Too big," says TR. "The Red Eagles and Sons of Eden will think you're bluffing."
"I'm not. Tell them."
Trix nods. "Alright, N, but if you ask me, you need to focus on something smaller first. Something that can show the leaders you can win this war."
"More Nephilim would draw their attention." Zorin sips from a silver cup—not wine, but blood—the taste sweet on his tongue. Nightfall stares at his drink.
She frowns. "We won't create new Nephilim, but we can search for old ones." She points to Zorin. "You were kept alive. There must be others."
The door behind them creaks. A parched voice speaks. "You will find none." Zorin does not need to turn around to know who it is, but Nightfall spins and draws her sword.
An old man, cloaked in black, a thick shackle on each wrist, stands before them. "You will find none," he says. "Except me."
CHAPTER 3
His muscles burn. Sweat drips into his eyes. He lunges, thrusts, moves through the dance of swords with the ease and skill of one trained long ago. One trained in the art of war. It is one of the most advanced forms, the Way of Erebus. An ancient practice lost to this world, but not to him.
Zorin remembers.
He knows what he must do tonight. He also knows it is a fool's plan, inspired by a fool's wish to save yet another person who has snuck into his heart.
"You put too much trust in her," Carter says as he steps onto the roof of the Cathedral, where Zorin is practicing.
Zorin does not slow his movements, his blade catching the light of the moon as it becomes a blur in his hands, moving so fast he could kill several opponents before they even knew he was there.
"You shouldn't be here," Zorin says as his sword hums.
"I should be where you are. It is she who should not be here."
Zorin stops. The action is sudden, and even the air currents struggle to keep pace with the tall man's change in trajectory. "We need her. She will save this world. And our people."
Zorin’s sword vanishes in his hands, a power of his blade, and he expands his wings.
Carter looks up at him, a frown on his weathered face. "She's dangerous."
"It has to be her. I am no longer the leader our people need. She is." Zorin steps to the edge of the roof. "Keep her safe while I am gone."
"Where are you going?"
"To save Nightfall."
***
Zorin has not flown like this since before his captivity. He can still feel the blood of his earlier meal filling him, strengthening him. He is quicker than any plane, flying at speeds so fast no mortal eyes would see him even if they could reach their vision to these heights.
It takes mere hours to travel from New York to Italy, to the place he has avoided since he lost his wife.
Dawn is just beginning to break on this side of the world, pink and golden rays of sun peeking out from the darkness. The villa he stands before is bathed in this virgin light, like a halo.
His heart pounds in his chest, and he remembers Danika. He remembers how they lay in the gardens, feeding each other sweet berries. How they walked the stone ivy-covered halls, her soft hand brushing against his. How they danced in the greatroom below a ceiling of stars.
The garden is overgrown now. The
Readers choose
Owen Sheers
Inglath Cooper
Ava Catori, Olivia Rigal
A. R. Ivanovich
Jay McLean
Jayne Ann Krentz
Mark Sennen
Mark Terry
Constance C. Greene