Fall From Grace, page 17
part #9 of the Preternatural Chronicles Series
Taylor flashed across my thoughts, and I pictured him lying in his ice coffin, the black snakes piercing his body, and the Ether beginning to spread.
“Cover yourself in armor!” I instructed Depweg, who turned to look up at me, considered my words, and nodded.
Obsidian armor burst into existence like yanking the cord on household blinds, covering him from head to toe in an instant.
It was no surprise to me that his armor resembled something a soldier would wear in the military. Where mine looked like it could belong in a popular fantasy game, his could easily be placed in a sci-fi one. Imagine Halo but with a helmet made for a werewolf head. The ears stuck out, unhindered, as did the lower jaw, but everything else was covered in the awesome obsidian armor. Even the eyes had some sort of visor stretching from one side of his large head to the other.
I said a silent prayer for the Aztec god’s obsidian power to be enough to stop the Ether from getting through. Especially when Taylor’s own armor had failed.
At the thought, my own armor shimmered to life, covering every inch of me, including my face. Curious, I reached my free hand up and touched my nose and forehead, only to discover I had somehow manifested a mask that mirrored the archangel Michael’s, complete with an ivory hood that I knew was impenetrable to all but Hell-made weapons.
My black coat flaps slapped against the back of my legs in the wind, and without looking, I knew the Fae silk was sticking out past where the armor stopped at my lower back.
Angelic wings that were each double my height extended twelve feet in either direction. From my peripheral vision, I could tell the white feathers were steadily flooding with gold, making my wings dangerous weapons made of metallic blades rather than mere feathers.
A part of my mind asked how I was hovering if I wasn’t using my wings, but that didn’t matter right then.
Lifting Mjolnir to the sky, I let my gaze go unfocused as I took in all the enemies around us at once, mindful to not target Depweg.
A magnificent bolt of lightning exploded across the sky, shaking the ground with the deafening thunder and catching the attention of every creature stretched out between the castle and the surrounding horizon.
The thick bolt broke off into smaller and smaller webs of electricity that filled the sky in a circular pattern, in direct contrast to the rippling of the black clouds.
From the hole in the sky, something groaned like a forest of steel girders bending all at once.
The creatures that had been stalking after Meli turned and regarded the threat that had summoned the lightning. As a matter of fact, all eyes were on me, including Depweg’s, who, I knew, was waiting for my signal.
With an expressionless mask that was identical to the one that had once filled me with terror, I nodded at Depweg, who nodded back, and the battle for Faerie began.
26
LILY
“As your future queen,” Lily began as she and Ulric clinked their crystal glasses. “I have one favor to ask.”
“I’m sure,” Ulric answered with a slight downward tilt of his face as he took a sip of the exotic angel blood.
“My home has been invaded by a virus that needs eradicating.”
“You’re referring to the boy wizard turned sorcerer?”
Lily wasn’t surprised by Ulric’s knowledge of the goings-on of Faerie, especially considering the portal that had been constructed where it was unlikely to be found.
“I am,” Lily confirmed Ulric’s accurate assumption.
“How odd,” he said contemplatively while letting his gaze carelessly wander around the room.
“What is it?” Lily asked softly, lifting a hand to rest on his arm. It unnerved her how easy it was to feign affection for the man.
“I was instructed to find you, so I hired the creature, Lane, to do just that. And then you showed up on my doorstep.”
Both he and Lily considered his words and the implications hidden within the web of happenstance.
“Okay, what?” Greg interjected while positioning himself on the edge of the couch. His elbows rested on his knees while his hands dangled loosely toward the ground. “The priest and angel sent you to find him”—he gestured toward Hell’s second in command—“while Satan told him to find you?”
Lily and Ulric immediately tensed as if an electrical current had been inserted at the base of their spines.
Greg flicked his gaze back and forth between the growingly worried expressions on the vampires’ faces.
Playing back what he had said, Greg realized his error all too late.
“Um, crap?” was all he could squeeze out as his eyebrows rose toward his hairline.
“Indeed,” Samael confirmed from right beside Greg on the couch, making the shaman yelp in surprise and recoil away from the Lord of Hell.
Samael was adorned in his all-white attire, though there were specks of blood dotting one of his wrists and the collar of his otherwise pristine jacket.
Sitting comfortably against the back cushion with both arms stretched out and a leg crossed over a knee, Samael smiled as his golden eyes met Lily’s.
“You have done well, Ulric,” Samael praised his second in command with eyes that never left his prize. “And in record time.”
Letting his gaze slide from the tense Lily to land on the now relaxed Ulric, he continued, “Color me impressed. I would have thought it would take at least days to locate my beloved. And yet, here she stands after only a few hours. Well done, Ulric. Well done.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Ulric replied while bowing his head. “I take it your time with the deities of India went as expected?”
Ignoring the question, Samael’s eyes slithered from the pair of vampires and down to the crystal glasses they each held, his smile widening ever so slightly.
Knowing it was futile but unable to do anything else, Lily slowly brought the glass behind her and rested it on the side table as if it were a nuclear bomb with a hairpin trigger.
As the glass slid over the wood, it made an obvious grinding sound that made the hair on the back of Lily’s neck stand on end.
Samael returned his intelligent eyes to her.
The tension between the two vampires was palpable, as they both knew it was a distinct possibility that Samael would murder them both and leave John the last vampire to walk the Earth, thus opening the gates of Hell.
“My lord, if I may,” Ulric began, setting down his own glass as he straightened his stance into that of pure professionalism.
Samael nodded his permission, golden eyes sliding off Lily to lock onto Ulric.
“The situation in Faerie has grown beyond the control of Lilith and the elf.”
“So it has,” Samael said coldly with eyes that burned a hole into Ulric’s very soul.
“What would you have me do, my lord?” Ulric asked with a bow of his head, his face shifting to the floor. This was done out of respect, but also because the Devil’s gaze actually seemed to hurt his eyes in much the same way as looking directly at the sun.
“Lilith has lost control of her own plane,” Samael taunted with only his words, letting his inflection remain neutral. It was a precision strike that only the most cunning could make. Where others relied on tone and body language to accentuate their message and get their point across, Satan only needed the words themselves. “How poetic that Hell holds the salvation you so desperately seek.”
Greg simply watched as Ulric, Lily, and Samael had a conversation using only silence that thickened the air like a fog. After a few moments, an uncomfortable feeling crept through his mind; Satan was going to figure out that Ulric was claiming a false victory for finding Lily.
Greg’s throat tightened as he anticipated what the fallen angel would do if he discovered Ulric had lied to him.
“Why do you think I let myself be captured so easily?” Lily threw out a Hail Mary, cutting through the fog of lies with just enough truth to be believable.
Ulric lifted his face back to his master, resisting the urge to look at Lily and seek confirmation of the dangerous lie they now shared.
“I must admit, she was exceedingly simple to catch, my lord. Even with the help of Lane Hamilton,” Ulric admitted, injecting more truth to the lie. “Though we suffered a handful of losses to our ranks.”
Samael looked back and forth between the vampires, the curve of his lips falling to a flat line. Vastly intelligent eyes pierced the flesh of Lily and Ulric—completely ignoring Greg—before clapping his hands together once and getting to his feet.
“Divine providence, perhaps?” He chuckled at his own ironic joke. The enjoyment in his voice deflated as the smile returned to his lips but failed to touch his golden eyes. “Or a predetermined cosmic coincidence?”
“What would you have me do?” Ulric repeated with a barely perceptible tinge of hesitation in his voice. If this were a movie, the obvious answer to Ulric’s question would be die, and thus it would begin the prophesized apocalypse.
But this wasn’t a movie. And Ulric reassured himself that the prophecy was still a few years away. Even if it didn’t happen—especially if he and Lily managed to kill Satan—the Lord of Hell still believed the last vampire would walk the Earth in three years’ time, which meant he wasn’t about to kill two of the three immortals before him.
Stepping closer to the vampires, Samael stopped and raised his hands to rest on Lily’s and Ulric’s shoulders.
“Go to Faerie. Stop the Ether before it can disrupt our thinning veil of reality.”
Both Ulric and Lily seemed taken aback by his words.
“Reality?” Lily whispered.
“May I request elaboration?” Ulric added. “It was my understanding that only the planes of Faerie and Earth were at risk.”
“Oh, Lily…” Samael exhaled while squeezing her shoulder and lightly shaking her. “You had no idea what you were doing when you created your plane of existence. And now your shortsightedness has put our stream of reality in jeopardy.”
“I…” Lily struggled to find the words as her mind was crushed under the idea of utter annihilation brought about by her actions.
“What did you mean by thinning veil of reality?” Ulric asked, curiosity making him be forthright with his question rather than following his usual dance of respect when speaking to Samael.
“Go to Faerie,” Samael said flatly, clearly displeased with having to repeat himself.
As Ulric quickly bowed his head and began to turn, Samael tightened his grip, drawing Ulric’s attention again.
“Do not kill John. And do not allow yourself to be killed by him. Am I understood?”
Ulric’s mouth gaped open as words tried, and failed, to form.
“John?” Lily asked. “He’s back?”
A malicious grin formed on Samael’s face as he slowly turned to face Lily.
“Oh yes, my love,” he purred with a gleam in his eye. “He arrived the precise moment after you entered my world.”
Lily’s mouth dropped open to match Ulric’s.
“Go,” he told Ulric. “And heed my words or suffer the consequences.”
Regaining his composure, Ulric replied, “Of course, my lord.” He thought for a moment, and then added, “If I am to expect John, I believe Lilith might be able to prevent the situation from escalating.”
Lily let her wishful eyes shift from Ulric to Samael, who continued to stare at Ulric.
“She stays. We have some…catching up to do.”
The bottom of Lily’s stomach dropped as she instantly understood she had just become Satan’s prisoner, no matter if the fact was shrouded under the guise of her being a guest.
“Take him with you.” Samael gestured with a backward tilt of his head in Greg’s direction.
Greg responded by mouthing “Me?” while pointing to his chest.
“Very good, my lord,” Ulric said as he turned, Samael’s hand falling from his shoulder as a portal formed out of thin air.
“And Ulric…” Samael began, drawing the man’s attention once more. His voice shifted to his demonic, guttural growl as his face began to distort like something was pushing beneath his skin. “If you disobey me, even God will weep at your cries of anguish as they echo for eternity.”
The room somehow grew cold as Lily swallowed hard enough to be heard, what little hair was on her body standing on end. Greg, on the other hand, simply whimpered once as a tear born from the purest fear slipped down his face. His hands trembled as his body barely restrained the urge to void his bowels and bladder.
Ulric simply pursed his lips and nodded once, with only the briefest semblance of a scowl attempting to mar his brow.
“I will not kill John nor allow him to kill me.”
“Gooooooood,” Samael purred in his normal voice.
“Wait,” Lily interrupted, striding over to Greg as a small puff of smoke appeared in her outstretched hand.
Greg extended his palm, and Lily quickly placed the item in his hand, closing his fist before he could see what it was.
“Show him this. And tell him it’s how I found him in Nebraska.”
Greg nodded as he slipped the item into his satchel, watching as Lilith returned her attention to Samael.
Ulric stepped through the portal directly into Faerie, with Greg all but jumping from the couch and meekly striding to follow suit.
Samael smiled and cooed, “Clever.”
“Why have a portal if you can just shift directly there?” Lily asked, trying to throw Samael off the scent of how she had been keeping track of John all these years.
“The portal was never for me or my dog,” Samael said, but didn’t elaborate further. Lily did notice, however, the derogatory placeholder name he used for Ulric.
Her throat tightened as she dared to wonder if Samael knew, or even expected, that Ulric would betray him.
He turned to face her as if sensing her thoughts.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, tossing out the first thing that came into her head to throw him off the scent.
“Do not concern yourself with that, my love. Your part has yet to be played.”
Samael’s smile widened with teeth a little too sharp while golden eyes slowly dulled into dark, piercing red orbs of pure malice.
His next words made Lily’s heart drop as if hearing the final nail being hammered into her coffin while still alive.
“Oh, how far have you fallen.”
27
LOCKE
The warped halls of the castle matched the outward appearance, seeming to have been made by a drunk artist tasked with creating an abstract representation of a traditional kingdom.
Locke followed quickly after Russell, struggling to keep up with the swift troll due to the focus required to keep from tripping over the wavering humps of the floor.
“This way,” Russell called out without turning to see how far ahead he was.
The words slow down came to mind, but Locke decided that, much like surviving the roaring rapids, it was best to just hang on and go with the flow rather than trying to fight the current.
As the dark troll moved through the interior of the castle, it became harder and harder to see him. The only clue as to his location were the gray sweatpants he wore.
Increasing his speed, Locke kept his ears open as the halls of the Seelie Court grew darker with each passing step. Sconces once hosting proud flames now flickered with a distorted and dull purple light that tipped the spectrum toward black.
Pulling out his wand, Locke illuminated the area by summoning and holding raw energy at the tip, making for a wizard’s flashlight.
With the bright light that rivaled anything that could be bought at— A chittering obsidian spider leaped from the darkness. Eight arms that looked like they had been taken from two large wolves surrounded a body the size of a beer keg while a set of huge mandibles hungrily clicked, saliva flowing like an open faucet.
“Jesus!” Locke cursed as his free hand instinctually rose and let loose a chaotic ball of energy.
The flying monster was struck and thrown down the hall, not even a single arm broken from the attack.
“Damn it!” he barked at himself, realizing he should have used his wand to hone the energy instead of lobbing unfocused power in a panic.
The spider quickly recovered and began sprinting toward Locke with a shriek of rage.
Taking a step forward, Locke pointed his glowing wand toward the creature and sent out a focused blast of plasma infused with electricity.
With a hiss, the spider jumped to the wall and continued striding forward on creepy wolf legs that pounded a fast-paced drumbeat of death.
“Shit!” Locke yelped as the hideous creature leaped with supernatural speed, crossing the distance faster than the blink of an eye.
Eight claw-tipped paws slammed into Locke, throwing him backward as if he had run headfirst into a speeding truck. Striking the ground, all of Locke’s air escaped his lungs in a single blast with an accompanying, “Oof!”
While trying to suck in precious oxygen, Locke forced his wand hand up, only to have it slammed back down by two of the wolf-spider’s legs, the rest pinning Locke’s remaining limbs to the ground as the spider lowered its chittering mandibles to his exposed neck.
An impact caused the creature to shriek again and turn its body back down the hall to see what had struck it.
Acting on the first thought that came to him, Locke gritted his teeth and focused on electricity flowing from the tip of his wand and across the distance to his free hand, the spider’s thick body in between the two points.
Unfortunately for Locke, his body was a perfect conductor, and instead of arcing from wand to hand, the electricity went up one arm, through his torso, and then ended at his opposite hand.
Fortunately for Locke, the spider disliked elemental lightning even more than he did, and was electrocuted like a death row inmate whose head sponge hadn’t been wet.
All eight fur-covered arms burst into flames, filling the air with a noxious aroma. The spider attempted to shriek once more, but all that came out was a stuttering hiss.
