The Sacrifice: Earth Angel, #13

By B.C. Burgess

In a fiery tale filled with villains and heroes, this installment of the Earth Angel series takes readers on a magical journey rich with emotion, intrigue, and danger. Fans of Twilight, The Red Queen, The Selection, and Harry Potter will devour this breathless fantasy set in a modern mystical world.

Layla has lost everything - the love of her life, the precious souls she was supposed to protect, her sanity. The Dark Guild ripped it all away. She will never be the girl she once was. And desperation threatens to smother the angel before she can spread her wings.

As hopelessness crashes in on her, will Layla find the strength to continue the fight? And how much would she sacrifice to reclaim what the guild has stolen from her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bandit Publishing
• Release date: Nov 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781946793287

Book preview

Chapter One

The cruel world was spinning, Layla’s scattered brain was pounding, her tortured body trembled, and her vision was slow to clear.

Ahh... a man hummed, his voice echoing around her. She rouses. Now the fun can begin.

Layla blindly felt her surroundings, slapping palms on a cold, stone floor. Then she pushed herself up, her body flexing and vibrating as she looked around. She was in a huge room with dark corners and tall pillars, and there were people everywhere, in the shadowed background as well as the lit forefront, surrounding her on all sides. Who are you? she rasped. Where am I?

The echoing voice answered. Why, you’re in the great hall of the Dark Guild’s keep.

Layla protested with a moan while searching for the man talking.

You should feel honored to hold the attention of so many revered magicians.

She found him. He sat on a throne on a dais, watching her with auburn eyes to match his rusty hair, and he was petting the large and regal head of a Great Dane, a brindle with auburn stripes that complemented its master.

Layla’s arms shook, so she lay back down. Just kill me and be done with it.

Not quite yet, the man refused. We have special plans for such a special witch. It’s a shame I’ll have to miss them, but someone has to hold down the fort while the privileged play.

Blah.

The man chuckled. Bring out my ex-whore.

Layla snapped her head up, ignoring the pain as she searched the room, and her strained gaze landed on Jacinda. Her hands and feet were bound, and two guards had her by the arms, carrying her to the throne.

Trying not to panic, Layla pushed on the floor, managing to get to her hands and knees, but unless she stayed stooped over, her stomach felt like it was ripping in half. Why do you have her bound? I forced her to help me... I gave her no choice.

Is that so? the man replied. Explain to me then, why we found her flying south, away from your body and the guild, with her arms full of your babies.

Another guard came into view, leading Benzio by his small shoulders.

No, Layla whispered, searching Jacinda’s face. It’s not true…

Jacinda squeezed her eyes shut, her lips quivering under rivers of tears.

No, Layla cried. Tell me they live. Please! Please tell me they live.

They’re alive, the man on the throne assured. And in much better care with our healers than they were with my ex-wife.

Jacinda cringed as he reached out, flipping one of her golden locks, and Layla’s nostrils flared as she narrowed her eyes on him. Albion.

He smiled. So you’ve heard of me.

You’re a monster.

Is that what Jacinda told you?

She didn’t have to. Now let her go. She had nothing to do with this.

Albion’s expression hardened. She had everything to do with this. He snapped his fingers, and a guard stepped forward, handing Albion a platinum chalice.

I’m sorry, Layla sobbed, looking between Jacinda and Benzio. I’m so sorry.

Jacinda sobbed as well, but she didn’t reply. She just turned her sorrowful gaze on her son. I love you, Benzio.

Benzio started crying and fighting the hold on his shoulders. I want my mommy! Let go of my mommy, you meanies!

It’s okay, Benz, Jacinda pleaded. Be a good boy, okay? Mommy will see you again. In a place where there are no meanies.

Mommy!

Benz, Jacinda breathed, shamefully dropping her head.

Albion motioned to a guard, who stepped forward and grabbed Jacinda’s hair, lifting her gaze back up.

Be done with it, Albion ordered.

He held the chalice out in front of Jacinda, and the guard indifferently slit her throat, letting her blood drain into the goblet.

Benzio’s scream haunted the hall, and Layla fell to the floor, vomiting bile and blood. You’re a monster!

Get that screaming brat out of here, Albion barked.

The guard holding Benzio’s shoulders picked him up, carrying him from the room kicking and screaming for his dead mom, and Layla watched him go through a film of tears. What will you do with him? This wasn’t his fault.

His only fault was falling from the womb of a harlot, Albion agreed. But since his parents were so eager to help you, Benzio can follow in their footsteps. Our newest triplets will need someone to test their extraordinary powers on, and Benzio will make a perfect subject. They’ll become good friends.

You’re horrible, Layla cried. So horrible.

It’s you who warranted Jacinda’s death, not I.

Says the man playing in her blood.

Albion set the chalice aside and rose from his chair, tilting his head as he approached. So this is the famous witch, he mumbled, nudging her with his foot. This pile of useless flesh writhing before me? Everyone claims you’re a beauty beyond compare, but who would dare touch you now?

I’d take a stab at her, someone shouted.

Albion smirked as he returned to his chair. Then he dipped a finger in Jacinda’s blood and rubbed it to his thumb, grinning as the life force in the crimson fluid sparked. Get her off the floor, he ordered, gesturing toward Layla.

Two guards walked forward, pulling her up, and she attempted to shock their hands off, but it was her who jolted. Damn.

Albion laughed. Did you really think we only had one remote?

He gestured to his left, and Layla looked over, finding a wizard holding her power in the palm of his hand.

We’ll be keeping this one intact, Albion added. A few of our elders are gearing up for a once in a lifetime opportunity, and until their plans unfold, we need to keep you from killing our revered members.

Layla’s veins burned with hatred as she stared at the floor, beyond pissed and thrumming with menacing energy. With a bloodcurdling scream, she threw her hands out, and while her brain jolted, the voltage quickly fizzled. A green haze exploded from her body, knocking everyone within twenty feet to their backs, but she stayed in the air, lost in her rage as her gaze swiveled around the room. Deadly spells shot from her palms into the crowd, uncontrolled and erratic, and people screamed while dodging the assaults. Pets growled and screeched, and Albion jumped up, laughing at the chaos while moving behind the stone backrest of the throne.

Zethar, he shouted, finding the newly promoted scientist, who’d been knocked down by the initial blast and was trying to shake his head clear. Hit the other two switches, Albion ordered.

Zethar had dropped the remote, so he started crawling across the dais, and Layla deflected counter spells while searching for the small black box that could sever her magic. She couldn’t find it, so she started shooting every spell in her arsenal at the scientist. Albion blocked the first few while shouting orders. Then several shields went up between Layla and the dais. She hissed, aiming her rage at the crowd instead, but then her body and brain seized with electricity, and she fell to the floor, once again powerless.

No one moved at first. They just watched her shake, first from the shock, then from sobs. But once it was obvious she was useless, the crowd shifted, pulling themselves together while tending to the dead and wounded.

Albion loudly laughed, clapping as he and his dog meandered out from behind his throne. Now there’s the angel I’ve heard so much about. Impressive, Layla. Very impressive. At least you’ll die knowing you took out a fair amount of us, huh?

Layla just lay in an anguished pile and cried, so Albion reclaimed his chair and gestured for a flustered group of guards to apprehend her. Foster?

The commander emerged from the shadows. Yes, sir.

Make sure she gets back in her cell. And kill that bastard Zio. Bloody traitor.

Foster swallowed, and Albion narrowed his eyes on him. Did I stutter?

Foster shook his head. No, sir.

Then do as I say, and once you drain that piece of shit, line the dungeon and its hallway with proper guards.

I’ll see it done.

Albion motioned to the wizards surrounding Layla. Get her out of my sight.

Yes, sir, the guards agreed, dragging Layla through the gawking crowd.

Her head bobbed as she continued to cry, hating herself and everyone around her, but when they entered the last corridor before the dungeon, she attempted to collect her wits.

Foster pushed open the metal door, and Zio jumped to his feet. What...

Run, Layla screamed, but it was too late.

The moment Foster walked in, he raised a hand, and his magic nearly blew a hole through Zio’s chest.

No! Layla fought her captors with all the strength she could muster, trying to go to the friend who’d risked everything for her, but she couldn’t get loose.

You should have known better, Z, Foster whispered.

Zio coughed and sputtered as he watched Layla get thrown in the cell, and she frantically crawled to the bars, reaching through them to touch his cheek. Finding his piercing blue gaze, she choked his name, torn to pieces over his fate… over all their fates.

Blood gathered at the corner of his trembling lips as he searched her eyes. Jacinda…

Layla forced herself not to look away in shame, but she couldn’t find the strength to tell him he’d soon see Jacinda in death. I’m sorry, Zio. So sorry.

Benzio…

He’s alive, she squeaked, hating that she couldn’t give him better. He’s alive.

Zio desperately searched her face for another five seconds. Then his lids fell over listless sapphires.

No, Layla sobbed, shattered by the devastation her attempt at freedom had provoked.

A shield went up around the bars, trapping her wrist in its haze, but she didn’t care. She kept her palm on Zio’s cold cheek, her tortured body draining of tears as her broken heart drained of hope. The wicked world around her went fuzzy, and in her despair, she let it, floating away with her senses into a sea of shadows.

Chapter Two

Quin had seen too much, but not enough. He’d seen her pleading toward the heavens. He’d heard her crying out his name and writhing in anguish.

And he’d seen pillars stretching into colored smoke. Cloaks skirting the stone floor as whispered chants floated from their hoods. A weak voice murmuring a haunting song. Tristan and Emrys staring from the shadows with silver eyes. Daggers everywhere, including Quin’s sweaty, right hand.

His heart sped up, and his lungs yanked in air as his brain emerged from a magically induced coma. He sprang from the bed, landing face down on the floor. Then he shook off the impact and bounced up, wide awake as he scanned his parents and Layla’s grandparents.

We need to go, he said, searching for his bag.

Go where? Caitrin asked. What did you see?

Quin found his satchel and tied it to the left side of his waistband. Then he attached a sheathed dagger to the right side. I don’t know. It was all mixed up and incomplete, but she called to me last night.

Serafin stepped forward. What do you mean she called to you?

She mind searched me, Quin shot back, throwing on his cloak.

Morrigan and Daleen raised hopeful eyebrows. Are you sure?

Positive. Her call landed right in my head, and I was busy sleeping my troubles away. A long string of expletives rolled from his tongue as he made sure he had everything. Then he looked up. Are you guys going?

Kemble’s forehead furrowed. Going where, Quinlan?

Quin took off without them. Northwest.

How far northwest? Kemble pressed, flying to catch up. Are you saying she’s in Belgium?

Quin skirted wandering Crusaders as he soared toward the great hall. No. Much farther.

How much farther?

Six hundred miles. She’s in Ireland.

Kemble frowned. Quinlan...

What?

Do you honestly believe you received a mind search all the way from Ireland?

I did. She was alive last night, and she called to me. And I was in a coma. Shit!

His fist smashed into the wall, and Caitrin pulled Morrigan out of the way of shattered gemstones.

I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into that, Quin seethed.

You were dying, Cordelia pleaded.

Quin landed near the entrance to the great hall and walked in, looking for Gavin and the council. Of all the nights... of all the nights for me to be incapacitated...

He found Gavin drinking coffee with Lorcan and Andraste, so he quit bitching and strode toward them. The Dark Guild’s base, he said, leaning into their conversation. It’s in the Derryveagh Mountains.

Yes, Lorcan confirmed, the northwest corner of Ireland.

What’s south of there? A body of water. An ocean inlet maybe?

Donegal Bay, Andraste answered.

And south of the bay, Quin urged, what county?

Four counties claim the southern shores of the inlet – Donegal, Leitrim, Sligo and Mayo.

Quin straightened and pointed at his dad. That’s where I’m going. Then he headed for the exit.

Why? Lorcan asked, rushing to follow.

She was there, Quin explained, last night.

We have soldiers on the coast of Mayo, Andraste revealed.

Quin halted and looked over. Can you contact them?

Yes, Lorcan answered, gesturing for a nearby guard to join them.

Do it, Quin demanded. Tell them to search south of the bay.

Lorcan turned toward the guard, Quin walked away, and Gavin rushed to keep up. What did you see? Did you see her?

I saw her, I heard her, I felt her. The only thing I haven’t done is help her. She was in pain and scared out of her mind. Shit. He balled his hands into fists, wanting so badly to hurt something like his angel was hurting. I’m going, he said, looking at his dad. Get Tristan, Emrys and Venetia, then do your best to keep up.

He flew from the hall, and all of them save for Andraste followed.

Someone needs to get Tristan and Emrys, Quin repeated, certain they played a crucial role in whatever he faced.

They’re being summoned now, Lorcan answered. Venetia as well. And we’re sending Gavin with you.

I don’t give a shit as long as he can keep up.

When they approached the corridor leading to the living quarters, they intercepted Tristan, Emrys and Venetia, who were getting dressed as they flew. Soon they reached the golden door leading to the stone exit, and Lorcan opened it while rambling off a few last minute instructions for Venetia.

Quin didn’t listen. He was already soaring toward the surface, cursing himself and hoping for a miracle.

Quin spotted the southern shores of Donegal Bay around ten in the morning, and he estimated it had been about twelve hours since Layla had called to him from the area. He stayed invisible while dropping low, searching for her mind and scanning the land, but he barely decreased his speed, certain he hadn’t reached the right location yet.

Tristan and Emrys were the first to catch up with Quin, followed by Kemble, Serafin and Venetia, but the others were still several miles behind.

The six in the forefront used mental directions to spread out, putting five to ten miles between them. Then they began scouring the lands.

Getting a good bird’s-eye view of the bay, Quin realized he was too far east, so he adjusted his path and mind searched his dad to let him know. ‘I’m veering west, and I don’t want to waste time intercepting you. Change your course.’

‘Wait, Quinlan.’

‘What do you mean wait?’ Quin was getting closer. He could feel it in his gut and in his heart.

‘Stop flying,’ Kemble returned, ‘and wait for me to meet you.’

Quin furrowed his eyebrows at the ridiculous request. Then he swooped low over a cluster of trees, spotting the dilapidated roof of an old watermill. One of his visions came rushing back to him, one in which Layla was crying out in pain, and he sped up, his heart racing, his palms sweaty, his mind shuffling through all the terrifying and beautiful things he might find, but when he landed in the small clearing, his mind stopped shuffling, rocked by confusion.

Ten Crusaders stood near a river, and Serafin and Kemble knelt beside them, staring at... something.

Quin’s heart plummeted as he sprinted forward, but his dad met him halfway and slammed into him. Wait, Quinlan.

Get off me!

Calm down…

Quin roared and threw his dad off. Then he ran the rest of the way, but when he drew near enough to see a pile of bloody guts, he slowed and fell to his knees, trembling from head to toe while trying to make sense of the mess. He struggled to breathe as he lowered his hands to bloodstained earth, a terrified scream building in his clogged chest.

What is it? he asked, blinking away burning moisture. Then he glanced at Serafin as the scream burst free. What is it?

Serafin pulled his hand from his mouth and pressed a thumb and forefinger to his eyes. Placenta. Three of them as far as I can tell. They... they’ve been picked at by the wildlife.

No... Quin tucked his pounding head into his forearms, his burning lungs empty, his heart shattering, his throat solid. She was here... She was here having our babies... and I... I wasn’t here... I wasn’t here for her.

Come away from it, Son, Kemble urged, dragging Quin across the clearing.

He was shaking and hyperventilating, powerless to object. A blood trail, he gasped.

There isn’t one, Kemble replied, kneeling and taking Quin’s shoulders. Which is a good thing. It means she flew away from here with a sufficient amount of blood.

I should have been here,