New Tidings

New Tidings

Traci Kenworth

They slashed her clothes going onto the auction block. She knew they would. They had to

view any problem with the merchandise they were buying. She heard their gasps, saw the ripple in the crowd as her back turned to them. Holding her head high, she dared them to look, to witness where she came from, that she ranked a Jetu. For as long as she could remember, any tattoos had been relegated to the side of the arms, but when Deo-Libertais took control of the world, the Akara had tried to hide who they were by inking their Manitou’s on their backs but the Society had gotten suspicious and now here she stood.

She heard an intake of breath from one of her guards, also taken by the enemy.

The unmistakable clip of, “Luna,” her name, slipped out.

She let her gaze fall on Ordan and gave a slight shake of her head.

This is what they’d wanted, what they’d been sent here to do.

As the crowd cheered, a massive spear of fire came down her way.

So they intended to burn her alive. Well, she’d show them her kind didn’t fall so easily. She spun around to face the flames as they lowered closer and with a great leap, sent her hands between them enough to char the edges of the ropes and then opened her gifts to the audience. Ice slashed through the heat and froze the creatures around them. It also shed her team mates’ bonds.

They rushed forward and broke the ice sculptures their foes had become.

The humans backed away, intent on leaving the place. Butchers that purchased the weak as slaves for their dark ways.

Luna would have loved to stop them, but her energy, her calling lay finished.

She’d frozen their assembly and that brooked all that mattered.

Her message chilled clear: they would bring evil to its knees.

Ordan caught her as she fell.

A last thought curled around her as she did so, “Freedom will not die so easy of a death,” she vowed.

Sleep pulled her under while she found herself lifted by her people and carried off. Today they had struck at the heart of the devil, and there would be consequences, but long had her tribe run in fear. No more. They would stand and fight, to the last man, woman, and child if necessary. And she would be there, a force with which to be reckoned.

Humans would have the last say.

Not these abominations.

Rebekah

Vanessa

Miranda

Joey

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