Seconds to Midnight: A Maiden of Midnight Prequel
Cain- Day One

Cain- Day One

The road stretched out beneath us, the concrete covered in fading white lines that marked the shallow ditch preventing us from flying directly off the mountain if we were to crash, Destiny’s foot pinning the accelerator halfway to the floor of Zeella’s fastest car, her speed easily hitting the hundreds, the forest surrounding us flying by too quickly for me to pick out any details. The car was ‘S’ tier, Destiny’s favourite to drive, however illegal it was. Not that anyone was going to stop us. We had been pulled over twice already in the two hours we had been driving through the British countryside. The first cop had taken one look at Destiny’s ID, her REAL ID, and allowed her through, the human not foolish enough to stop us, while the second cop… The evidence of what had happened to him after he had drawn a gun on Destiny was still sitting in an otherwise empty duffel bag in the back seat, the bloodstained leather gloves having been hidden in a small towel, the gun in the boot of the car.

In the back seat, Bal’gag was tapping away on his phone, talking to whatever contacts we had in the region to see if any of them were willing to take us in, my cousin having been sent on her first assignment.

It was plain, simple murder, the sort that someone with my cousin’s Dome rating could easily have finished in a week. We had been given nine full days.

Nine days to search the forest within a five kilometer span, the mountain, and the coastline, looking for Morven Getunut, a Fae warrior who had struck a deal with Agron, only to fail to deliver his half of the bargain.

Beside Bal’gag, Lydiav was flicking through a magazine Destiny had bought her at our last stop, circling items she wanted to buy with the money she would be making from this assignment, slouched over in her seat with her legs tucked up on the back of my headrest. Nym sucked on a Fire-Sugar, watching the forest fly by with a bored expression on her face. Destiny’s face was stoic with concentration, although her gaze shifted to the rearview mirror every two minutes.

It was exactly two minutes. I had counted.

We had been driving for two hours, and she had looked behind us every two minutes exactly, watching not only the road, but the treeline, looking for any sign of the Fae warrior we were hunting, Zeella’s portfolio laying between us, a single picture of Morven paperclipped onto the first page, above a brief description of him.

Picking up the folder, I thumbed through the pages, the car too silent for my liking. Ever since Destiny had come out of the Dome, she had been different. Emotionless.

“Do you know the case details?” My voice split the silence, penetrating the concentration on Destiny’s face, my twelve-year-old cousin, without taking her eyes off the curving road before us, replying, “Morven Getunut, four-hundred-and-sixty-four years old, male, working as a soldier for the Tarvenia Sun Palace, under the reign of Queen Genevieve. Grey hair, blue eyes, six-foot-two with a fighter’s build. He’s proficient in archery, tracking, and hand-to-hand combat. His favourite colour is green, and he has a soft-spot for Fae women with blue hair-”

“Alright, smartass,” I muttered, Bal’gag snickering in the back seat, Nym elbowing him sharply, her twin giggling when I continued, “Tell me where you think he’ll be.”

Her eyes slid to me, giving me a side-glance that could have frozen over Hell, before sighing, “He was assigned to guard this region of forest specifically, although I’m not sure why. There’s nothing of importance out here.”

“There’s a Fae settlement,” Nym offered up, reading over Lydiav to peer at Bal’gag’s phone, “Although one of your contacts claims Morven hasn’t shown up for nearly three days.”

It had been a week since Morven had made the deal with Agron, and two days since he had arranged to meet with him. Of course, typical of Fae nature, Morven had been a no-show. No contact. No explanation. No information from the Sun Palace. He was still alive, spies had confirmed that there was no sign of his body anywhere in Tarvenia’s records, nor any graves with his name on them, so where was he? The Sins hadn’t cared for any kind of explanation offered up by the numerous other Fae they had dragged in and tortured for answers, all of them allies of Morven or his friends, and when they had been unable to offer anything of substance, Destiny had received a case on her desk.

Her first case, outside of the generic rubbish the Dome had given her for six months.

Morven had been eager to hand over valuable Sun Palace information in exchange for Demonic-being soldiers and plenty of Fae coin, so why back out? He had to have known someone would be sent after him… What had changed?

“Dead already?” I asked my cousin, who tapped her hip thoughtfully, humming, “Perhaps. But no body?”

Lydiav sat up in her seat, tossing aside the magazine Destiny had bought her in favour of pointing to the map Bal’gag now held, Morven’s assigned territory marked out in red ink, “Plenty of creatures, both Super-Natural and Earth-created, roam these forests. It’s possible one killed and ate him.”

“I imagine Faeries wouldn’t taste very nice.”

“Like dirt,” Destiny complained, her nose wrinkling in disgust, “Their blood is disgusting.”

“There’s mud on my shoes,” Lydiav complained, changing the subject and lifting her ballet slippers from the floor of the car, revealing the mixture of mud and blood from when she had kicked the second police officer down, Destiny grinning darkly and saying, “I’m sure you can buy some new ones, Lydi.”

That dark, emotionless grin remained on her face, and I asked, “Are you sure about this, Des? I can finish the mission, and Zeella and the Lords will be none the wiser.”

Her eyes slid to me, the black seeming to deepen, and I hid my shudder of fear at the lack of emotion, like she was eyeing me off not as a cousin or friend, but as prey, debating if I was worth hunting down and devouring. Her voice seemed equally cold, the warm tone nothing more than an easily seen-through mask as she sung, “I’m fine, Cain.”

Her scream of pain hit the room, Zeella jolting, and I wrapped my arms around my cousin before she could enter the bathroom any further, or see the razor laying on the floor where it had slipped from her mother’s fingers, my aunt having taken her own life while Destiny was at school.

I should have told Zeella to take her away, would have had he not been a ghost as well, staring at Sarah’s body like it was going to jump up and sing, like it was all a terrible nightmare that he would wake up from soon. I should have covered Destiny’s eyes, or met her at the door and stopped her from going any further. She would have smelt the blood, and that would have been traumatic enough without WITNESSING the cause of it.

I had been in shock, too.

But nothing, not even being the one to replace the dead, bled-out body of my aunt had compared to the pain that had crumpled Des like she was nothing more than a napkin, or the grief that had flooded her scent, before washing it away completely. She had become a ghost.

She had sunk into the nightmare, too, and sat on the couch for hours.

Zeella had woken up without facing that pain, and become a monster for it.

My cousin, I wasn’t so sure. In truth, I think it’s devoured her. There’s nothing left of the kid I knew for eleven years. She was twelve now, turning thirteen at the end of the year, and when she wasn’t in her room, staring at nothing, she was… here. Looking like she was going to rip someone’s head off just to see what sound the bone would make when it broke.

Reannatiel’s death had cracked that calm, childlike exterior, revealing just a hint of the Demonic thing that laid beneath. I had loved her still, how could I not, but she had still been a kid. Her emotions had been easier to deal with, or distract with gifts and the promise of something fun. Gifts still distracted her, but never for as long as they once did.

Her mother’s death had grabbed that exterior by the collar, beaten it against a wall, and then spat on its corpse. What damage that hadn’t done, the Dome, and whatever was going on inside her head, had finished.

Now that Demonic thing was in full sight, writhing around my cousin’s soul, never intending to let go, and it was not a fan of being watched, or questioned, or doubted.

Bal’gag shuddered in the back, earning a glare from Destiny, who purred, “Something wrong, Bal’gag?”

“No, of course not. It’s just freezing,” he lied, faking a convincing grimace and shiver that had Destiny humming to herself, unconvinced, the hair on the back of her neck rising.

Had it not been for that, I would have thought he was telling the truth. When my cousin’s Demi-Sin had appeared, I wasn’t exactly sure, but knowing that Des could tell when I, or anyone else, was lying to her was a terrifying prospect. She wielded it like a weapon in court.

My cousin didn’t bother to call him out for it, her face becoming contemplative, and she reached for the dial on the dashboard, turning the heating up, blissfully warm air flooding the car. Nym and Lydiav sighed contentedly, the former closing her eyes and leaning against the car door to get some rest now that she was comfortable, the latter lifting her magazine and flicking through the pages again. The hair on the back of Destiny’s neck settled once more, and I turned to her, cheerfully asking, “Did you like the gift I left for you?”

The necklace, which had cost me most of my monthly allowance, had come from the local museum in London, the piece over six thousand years old. They hadn’t been overly willing to give it up, until I had offered an even rarer piece of jewellery from the Manor’s personal collection. Nobody even knew it was there, just another petty piece collected in millions of years of deals, bargains and theft, and when I had handed it to the museum, spouting some bullshit story about it being in the attic of an old home my family had purchased, their visitors had increased tenfold.

After that, they had sent the necklace in a neatly wrapped box, thanking me for my ‘donation’. Lilith had already claimed it back in tax; a quick and easy way for the Manor to make money, and I had gotten one of the rarest necklaces in the world to gift to my cousin.

The Parallel Necklace was made from blue diamond and jadeite, some of the most expensive gems in the world, and it had been worn by dozens of Queens and Princesses of Britain.

Now, my cousin got to wear it. I’d already commissioned a matching tiara to be made, although it would take six months before I could pay it off, since it cost close to twelve million pounds.

Reaching her hand up to her collar, where the elegant necklace rested, the gems no bigger than her little fingernail, she smiled at me, the feeling of fear dying down at the sight of the genuine smile of delight.

“It’s beautiful.”

“She hasn’t taken it off in two days, not even to bathe,” Lydiav revealed with a giggle, and I returned the smile, reaching over to take my cousin’s hand in mine, squeezing her fingers.

“Do you know the history behind it?”

“The Parallel Necklace…” Destiny hummed, brushing her fingertips over the chain and gemstones, her eyes glued to the road once more, “Six thousand years old, worn by Royalty across Britain, mostly for coronations. One Queen wore it into battle.”

“And won,” I said gently, tapping Destiny’s nose, and she snickered awkwardly. It was stiff, not believable enough to be real, her Guardians faces falling slightly in concern. Two years ago, the move would have gotten a legitimate laugh from her, and now, nothing.

Tapping her hip, Destiny scanned the treeline once more, the watch on her wrist beeping, and she pulled the car over, swinging to face her Guardians and saying, “We’re in Morven’s territory now. This region, spanning five kilometres, was where he was assigned to guard under Tarvenia’s Queen’s orders. I want you three to begin searching. Remain out of sight. If you’re seen by anyone, eliminate them.”

Already unbuckling their seatbelts, Nym slung her bag over her shoulder, saluting Destiny and saying, “We’ll fire a flare if we replace Morven.” Their bags of supplies, each one hand-packed by Destiny herself, had everything from spare changes of clothes, rope, medical supplies, weapons, flares, maps, walkie-talkies, and even food, would keep them relatively safe out there, not to mention help them blend in as hikers. Dozens of them hiked these tracks each year, so Lydiav, Nym and Bal’gag, dressed as they were in plain black clothes, wouldn’t stand out too much.

Although Lydiav’s ballet shoes, which she tugged back on, lacing them back up and smiling lovingly at them, would seem rather odd.

“Good. Be back in six hours. It’ll be getting dark by then, and I don’t want you out here.” It was perhaps the only sign of concern she had shown since receiving Zeella’s orders, and Bal’gag smiled, nodding once and promising, “We’ll do you proud, Princess.”

My cousin’s face remained emotionless, but she nodded back, the three Guardians rushing across the road and vanishing into the forest.

Turning to me, she said, “I’m searching the mountainside. Care to join?”

“Where are you going to leave the car?”

Sliding out, she grabbed her satchel, hanging it from one shoulder and locking the car, leaving the case on the front seat and tossing the keys into the nearest ditch, the shining metal sliding beneath a bush that hid them perfectly from the road.

With Demonic senses, we would replace them without much trouble, but it was risky to leave the car on the side of the road. If anyone investigated… “Don’t you think you should move it?”

“Why? It’s in the ditch.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We have six hours. Let’s start climbing.” End of discussion, clearly. Sighing, I shouldered my own bag, reaching for Destiny’s only to earn a condescending smirk, my cousin hissing, “I can carry my own bag, Cain. I’m not a child!”

“If you aren’t a child, Desterium, then stop acting like one.” Zeella spat hatefully, Destiny crying on the floor of the Dome, a gash in her upper-arm from the mentor who had attacked her without warning in the hallway. I winced, my own mentor slicing at my cheek as I turned to look at my cousin, before they hissed, “Focus, Cain!”

I didn’t care about the cut, it was menial, the sort that could be fixed with one of the napkins in the cafeteria, but Destiny’s cut was deeper. It would need stitches. There was an equally deep cut on her leg.

The Dome didn’t bother with medical aid, and cuts like that could get infected easily. An infection could kill her if she wasn’t careful, and with the Dome’s standards of refusing to help, that death was for the weak, she wouldn’t receive any kind of care until she graduated.

“I’m not a child!” Destiny sobbed, “But it hurts!”

“Of course it’s going to hurt, you stupid girl!” Her mentor snarled, giving her a swift kick in the side, “It’s a wound! You were attacked! So fight. Back.”

“I don’t want to!”

The mentor lifted their blade, Destiny’s eyes widening, not quite believing they would kill her for refusing to stand on her injured leg, and as they brought it down, my cousin looked to Zeella, begging, “Dad?” The word broke something in my heart, my eyes sliding to the Sin of Lust, silently urging him to step in and help, or even to order them to stand down so Destiny could reorganise her thoughts, which were clearly scrambled in shock.

He didn’t reply, his phone lighting up as Lilith texted him, and he held up a finger, turning and tapping out a text back to my mother.

The mentors snarls as I shoved my own and tackled Destiny’s made Zeella look up from his phone, watching with intrigue while I slammed my fist into the mentor’s face, Destiny’s tears drying in shock.

The mentor who had cut my cousin didn’t get a chance to fight back, my powers sinking beneath their skin and popping their heart, and a moment later, their body slumped beneath me, Destiny gaping.

My own mentor rushed at me, barely giving me enough time to rise and fight back, Destiny screaming my name as their blade pierced my leg, blood bubbling out, and a second later, they joined the first mentor on the ground, Zeella watching safely from behind the glass.

Destiny stood, rushing to my side, her hand sliding to my leg to stifle the bleeding, and she begged in panic, “Don’t die, Cain!”

“Des, it’s nothing. It’s a cut.” I could sew it up in my room later, using the makeshift needle I had carved from the bedpost, and the thread I had taken from one of my own shirts.

Destiny’s leg would need more stitches than mine, though. I would sew hers first.

Helping her to her feet again, I limped over to the doorway, grunting, “Let’s fix that leg of yours first, hey?”

“You could have killed them yourself, Desterium,” Zeella snapped from the other side of the room, ignoring the glare I gave him, “Stop being a child. Next time, Cain won’t be in here to help you.”

Unable to help myself, I looked to Destiny’s thigh, where that cut had once been, now hidden beneath her Assassin uniform, Inferos strapped to that thigh. The scar was gone, since only Demonic things could leave actual scars on Destiny or I, and the stitches had long since been removed, although my cousin hadn’t been happy to have me pluck them out. Sensing the direction of my thoughts, Destiny sighed heavily, “That was a long time ago, Cain. I’m not that weak anymore.”

“It was seven months ago, and you were never weak. You killed Abel long before entering the Dome.” She looked to me, the fire to fight back seeming to die down, replaced by nothing once more, and she repeated, “I’m not a child.”

Turning to the mountain, she eyed it, pulling out a pair of gloves from her bag and sliding them on, saying, “Let’s climb a mountain.”

Grabbing her arm, I urged, “Des, can we talk? I think we should talk about how you’re feeli-”

A second later, I was on my back, Destiny’s boot slamming onto my chest, and she snarled, “I’m fine, Cain! Stop damned asking!”

Taking a deep breath, knowing if I lost it she would probably kill me, I calmly replied, “You aren’t fine. Doctor Saoirse said-” The mention of the psychiatrist who had been seeing my cousin made Destiny flinch, her hatred deepening, becoming defensive, and she screamed, “ENOUGH!” The forest went silent, the word echoing across the mountain, a flock of birds fleeing a nearby tree. Had her Guardians heard her scream?

If they had, they didn’t radio in, continuing their search, and Destiny, with tears in her eyes, begged, “Stop asking me how I am! I am fine! That’s it! Do not bring up Saoirse again!”

“She’s trying to help you, Des. We all are. I am trying to help you.”

“I do not WANT your help. I’m not broken, Cain!”

“I know that, but sometimes people feel sad, and-” The ‘SHING!’ of Inferos sliding from its sheath made me pause, Destiny holding the blade to my throat and snarling, “One more word out of your mouth, and you die here.” The threat was real, which made the sting of betrayal worse, and I held my hands up in surrender, gently murmuring, “I’m not your enemy, Des. I’m your friend. Your cousin.”

“So was Abel, and that didn’t exactly help him, did it, dearest cousin?” She spat venomously, Inferos seeming to hum in agreement in her hand, and I winced, knowing now why she had been so unreceptive to my friendship. She didn’t see us as friends anymore.

She didn’t see anyone as friends anymore.

I was a means to an end for her, just like everyone else.

And that was the thought that hurt the most. Not that she could kill me, I knew that already, but that she might want to kill me, to the point where she meant it when she held a blade to my throat. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to stop helping her, even when she made due on that promise and slit my throat.

“Alright,” I whispered, “Alright…”

Grinding her teeth, she sheathed Inferos once more, slamming the climbing bag into my arms and snapping, “I’m going to search the forest. You climb the mountain. Six hours, and you need to be back here.”

“Des, I don’t think we should split up.”

“Well maybe I’m sick of having some busy-body Demonic-being constantly asking how I am! We’re not friends, Cain, so stop!”

“Wait, Destiny… It’s dangerous on your own out there! Des!”

She didn’t reply, storming across the road and jumping the barrier, slinking into the forest beyond, and I said over the radio, “Flare if you replace Morven. I want location updates from everyone every ten minutes.”

Nym, Lydiav and Bal’gag radioed their agreement.

Destiny remained silent.

Sighing heavily, I rubbed the climbing powder over my hands, eyeing the mountain with disdain before hoisting myself up the first rock.

It was going to be a long climb…