Court of Nightfall Read Online Free Page B
Author: Karpov Kinrade
they didn't have wings or a sword. Instead they walked toward us with long silver guns in their hands, guns that weren't made by humans, guns I had never seen before. I stood in shock. Nephilim didn't exist anymore. They'd been exterminated during the war. And this one, I'd never seen anything like it, not even in news clips and videos. The wings were bigger, brighter, more glorious than anything I'd ever seen or imagined.
My dad moved to stand in front of me and my mother. "Go. Now! I'll hold them off."
My mother looked at my dad, her face filled with such sorrow it choked my heart. It was the look of someone saying goodbye.
Forever.
I turned back to my dad. "If you're staying, I'm staying."
The Nephilim and soldiers were still a distance away, trudging through the overgrown grass that surrounded our house. But they would be here soon enough.
My dad gripped my shoulders as he faced me. His torture ring dug into my skin. "We can't win this, my little Star."
I wanted to argue, but with a tear trying to escape his dark eyes, I couldn't.
"It's too late for that," he continued. "Get the weapon to safety. Don't let this be for nothing."
He made eye contact with my mother one more time, then reached for her hand. She ran into his arms with a sharp cry. He kissed her once, whispered something in her ear, and then turned away. "Go!"
He moved quickly, inhumanly fast, as his armor began to glow blue, the carvings lighting up. He dashed around the soldiers, avoiding their gunfire that came out like streams of flame, cutting them down one by one with his sword. The Nephilim hovered over our field, as if holding the portal open.
I'd never seen anything like this. Not even on Diamond Head. Not even with Zeniths. My dad was something more. Something magnificent.
"Scarlett, get in and close the door!" My mother had already gotten into the front seat of the truck. I moved as if ice ran in my veins, but I did move, slowly crawling into the back of the truck, next to the weapon.
"Don't let this be for nothing," he'd said. My stomach clenched. By 'this' he'd meant his death.
I watched as he continued to fight soldier after soldier. As he killed each one, a new one would pour from the portal. Hope planted itself in my heart. My dad could win this. He could.
Finally, he faced the Nephilim, who moved away from the bright (golden—thanks Evie, I get it, everything's golden) light. The portal shimmered and faded the closer the Nephilim came to my father.
"Let us end this," my father said, holding his sword forward.
I thought my father moved fast. But the Nephilim turned into a blur, moving at speeds the human eye couldn't even hold on to. Before my dad could even move, the Nephilim slammed a giant fist into the side of his face, knocking off his helmet.
I felt the blow in my own body, or at least that's what it seemed like. My dad flew backward, toward me, smashing into the ground below me. Half his face torn to shreds, broken, blood pouring out of flesh and bone.
I swallowed my own bile, tears sliding down my cheeks. The truck lurched forward, and I gripped the crystal box to keep from falling out.
My mom was leaving.
Without my dad.
I looked down at him again and saw his chest rise and fall, slowly, painfully, but he was definitely still alive.
"Scarlett, close the door!" My mother sounded desperate with tears in her voice.
But I couldn't be the good girl right now, doing what I was told, following the commands of others. I couldn't blindly obey. Not when my father was dying and needed my help.
It seemed hopeless, that much was true. A memory, unbidden, came to me. Of playing chess with my dad. His dark hair falling in his eyes as he moved the chess pieces around the board. I'd lost everything but my king. He still had an army. "I give up," I'd told him. "You win."
My dad smiled. "It's not over. If you persist, you can still tie the game. If you're left with no moves, then it's a stalemate. One can triumph over many, as
My dad moved to stand in front of me and my mother. "Go. Now! I'll hold them off."
My mother looked at my dad, her face filled with such sorrow it choked my heart. It was the look of someone saying goodbye.
Forever.
I turned back to my dad. "If you're staying, I'm staying."
The Nephilim and soldiers were still a distance away, trudging through the overgrown grass that surrounded our house. But they would be here soon enough.
My dad gripped my shoulders as he faced me. His torture ring dug into my skin. "We can't win this, my little Star."
I wanted to argue, but with a tear trying to escape his dark eyes, I couldn't.
"It's too late for that," he continued. "Get the weapon to safety. Don't let this be for nothing."
He made eye contact with my mother one more time, then reached for her hand. She ran into his arms with a sharp cry. He kissed her once, whispered something in her ear, and then turned away. "Go!"
He moved quickly, inhumanly fast, as his armor began to glow blue, the carvings lighting up. He dashed around the soldiers, avoiding their gunfire that came out like streams of flame, cutting them down one by one with his sword. The Nephilim hovered over our field, as if holding the portal open.
I'd never seen anything like this. Not even on Diamond Head. Not even with Zeniths. My dad was something more. Something magnificent.
"Scarlett, get in and close the door!" My mother had already gotten into the front seat of the truck. I moved as if ice ran in my veins, but I did move, slowly crawling into the back of the truck, next to the weapon.
"Don't let this be for nothing," he'd said. My stomach clenched. By 'this' he'd meant his death.
I watched as he continued to fight soldier after soldier. As he killed each one, a new one would pour from the portal. Hope planted itself in my heart. My dad could win this. He could.
Finally, he faced the Nephilim, who moved away from the bright (golden—thanks Evie, I get it, everything's golden) light. The portal shimmered and faded the closer the Nephilim came to my father.
"Let us end this," my father said, holding his sword forward.
I thought my father moved fast. But the Nephilim turned into a blur, moving at speeds the human eye couldn't even hold on to. Before my dad could even move, the Nephilim slammed a giant fist into the side of his face, knocking off his helmet.
I felt the blow in my own body, or at least that's what it seemed like. My dad flew backward, toward me, smashing into the ground below me. Half his face torn to shreds, broken, blood pouring out of flesh and bone.
I swallowed my own bile, tears sliding down my cheeks. The truck lurched forward, and I gripped the crystal box to keep from falling out.
My mom was leaving.
Without my dad.
I looked down at him again and saw his chest rise and fall, slowly, painfully, but he was definitely still alive.
"Scarlett, close the door!" My mother sounded desperate with tears in her voice.
But I couldn't be the good girl right now, doing what I was told, following the commands of others. I couldn't blindly obey. Not when my father was dying and needed my help.
It seemed hopeless, that much was true. A memory, unbidden, came to me. Of playing chess with my dad. His dark hair falling in his eyes as he moved the chess pieces around the board. I'd lost everything but my king. He still had an army. "I give up," I'd told him. "You win."
My dad smiled. "It's not over. If you persist, you can still tie the game. If you're left with no moves, then it's a stalemate. One can triumph over many, as
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