Page 3 of Burn of Obsidian

Jax didn’t bother using his knuckles this time, instead breaking the blade off in the left knee. There was a crack as the bone gave before the metal did, the surrounding flesh squelching.

No response.

“He doesn’t stink like the others,” Kace said, cocking his head. “His scent doesn’t set my beast off.”

“Bullshit,” Lucifer chuckled. “Your beast’s a fucking lunat – ”

“Enough.” Jax didn’t know why he’d allowed either of them to join his interrogation. They were a pain in his arse.

“Seems Gideon’s made them stronger,” Lucy added, unaffected by Jax’s brashness. “The Lessers don’t seem to be deteriorating as quickly.”

Jax pressed the knife deeper into the man’s left knee. He knew personally that it hurt like fuck, but there was still no response.

The Lessers, crudely nicknamed as Skulls due to the glamour they usually wore, were disposable soldiers, bodies poisoned with the same magic that created Daemons. Their bodies couldn’t handle the magic, and would usually deteriorate until they were nothing but empty shells that collapsed beneath their own weight.

Except the Skull that swung from the chain seemed much stronger than the men they usually fought. Jax couldn’t feel any remnant of the human, or Breed he once was. Nothing but a dark, oily aura that was a weakened version of his master’s.

“Seems the rumours from Sy’s network are true,” Lucy said, clicking his tongue. “Gideon’s Undead are taking over the city.”

The Skull turned his gaze towards Lucifer, and then held them there.

“He’s not going to tell us anything about his master.” Lucy pressed his palm against the Skull’s head. “His aura’s in dissonance.”

Kace stopped his pacing. “And that means?”

With a crack, Lucifer broke the Skull’s neck. “It means his aura’s no longer aligned with his soul. He doesn’t feel anything. No pain. No emotions. Nothing. You can’t rot a soul if it’s not connected.”

“Explains why he didn’t shrink back when I brought out the big knives,” Kace mused. “Or when I threatened to cut his dick off.”

Lucy shrugged. “Maybe it’s Gideon’s fancy new cup? There’s a reason he fought so hard for it, and making his soldiers strong enough to last more than a week sounds like something he’d want to do. Jax, what do you think?”

“It’s a chalice, not a fucking fancy cup.” Jax shook his head. Gideon had recently obtained the ancient celestrial artefact, and the Guardians were trying to figure out why. “And how the fuck am I supposed to know?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Lucy rolled his eyes dramatically. “I just assumed the only celestrial on the team knew something of importance.”

“Arsehole.” Jax wiped his bloody palm down his T-shirt, knowing he was actually one hundred percent druid. Just with some celestrial-born benefits, thanks to his mother. “I’m working on the chalice.”

“Waste of time,” Kace grunted. “We already know Gideon has the cup. We should be planning on how to take him out.”

Jax called for patience from the Fates, not that the three women whom his Breed revered as gods ever did anything for him. “We’re not confident what the chalice does, and until we figure that out, we can’t ignore it.”

It’s been months since Gideon stole and used the chalice, and they were no closer to figuring out its importance. When not watching his mate, or out hunting, Jax spent the majority of his time researching. Fortunately, being unable to sleep left him with a lot of spare time on his hands. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much literature on a chalice stolen from Aetherna.

“It’s known as the cup of souls,” he said, watching the dead Skull swing gently.

Lucy pouted. “Thought you just said it wasn’t a cup?”

Jax ignored him. “Luce, did you say his soul wasn’t connected?”

“Do I get a bonus point if I say yes?”

‘I’m going to kill him,’ Jax muttered in his own head, this time purposely pushing it out so Kace could hear.

Kace smirked. ‘We can make it look like an accident.’

“You know it’s rude to talk about someone when they’re here.” Lucy crossed his arms with a dramatic huff. “I said you can’t rot a soul if it’s not connected.”

Jax pressed his hand against the Skull, testing a theory. “And why does the Rite fail so often?”