Guardians (Chosen Trilogy Book 2) (4 page)

It all kicked off as I was coming out of the shower. Lucy had demanded a room of her own and, with Giles hiring the entire building, I didn’t have the grounds or—truth be told—the heart to say no. I took a two-bedroom suite with its own kitchenette, and Belinda moved in with me, smiling about us finally being able to share some valuable alone time together. The first thing I did was hop in the shower, and the second thing that she did was make a move to join me . . .

But then we got the call.

The phone rang. Belinda, half-dressed, the top half not the bottom, leaped over the bed to grab it, offering me fine views even better than those of Orlando that stood outside the window. She listened quietly for a few seconds and then turned to me, that haunted look once again stretched across her face.

“They need us downstairs. Asmodeus has been pinpointed by the witch coven less than a mile away.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Jesus. Don’t forget your pants.”

I threw some jeans and a t-shirt on and headed for the door, barely remembering socks and trainers. Belinda
was a second behind me, shrugging into her leather trousers even as I threw open the door. An elevator stood right beside our room and I immediately pressed the button.

“
Hope you’re ready for this,” Belinda said. “We’re going up against Asmodeus, one of the strongest of all demons. Death has always been right around the corner for me, but this . . .” she shook her head sadly.

“We’re together
,” I said as the doors opened. “All of us. And we’ll fight together. You no longer have to do this alone, Belinda.”

She nodded, still a little melancholy but putting on a brave face. I took another look at the t-shirt she’d chosen earlier and pointed its merry slogan out to her.

Smile and be happy.

“That was for our shower tryst
, Dean.”

“Ah. Well, to be continued.”

The doors whooshed open and we made our way out to the parking lot. Several vehicles were already revving their engines. The entire group was present, including Lucy and the vampire kid, Ethan. My spirits rose fast, though, to see so many capable warriors ready to go.

“Move your ass.” Belinda ran and I joined her in the lead car. T
ires squealed and we raced out. Cheyne explained that demons with the power of Asmodeus could appear in a variety of disguises. From that of a man or woman, of any form, to an animal, a terrifying demon and even a fallen angel, that looked startlingly similar to the old renderings of supposedly real angels. The beast’s true visage, a horned demon with eyes like bubbling lava, a wolf’s snout, claws for hands and veiny, transparent gray wings was rarely ever seen.

“So how do you track these demons?”
Tanya Jordan asked the question.

“A demon is still a demon,” Cheyne explained. “No matter the disguise. A pig is still a pig when dressed in top hat and long tails, yes? Well, this is the same.”

I blinked at that one and made a mental note never to accept an invite to a witch’s party. Cheyne explained that demons could be tracked through the unique signature they emitted much like the witches had tracked down the eight Chosen and Gorgoroth’s Destroyers—by spelling parchments and artefacts unique to them. Special identifiers.

“We’re a little like bloodhounds tracking a scent.” Cheyne tapped her crooked nose. “When we catch ‘em in here there ain’t no escape.”

Giles pulled our vehicle onto I-Drive. Now that we had a general location it became immediately obvious where the demon was. Flames washed the skies beyond Wet ‘N Wild, along a quieter stretch of road that held only a few shops and eateries. As we came closer Cleaver spoke up.

“What the hell are these guys searching for? These artefacts, what exactly are they?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Cheyne said. “Could be anything. The library is working on it.”

“Damn lot of good that’ll do us now.”

“You’re a fighter, Cleaver. A boxer. Just go with the flow.”

I
took in the scene as we approached. A sinkhole appeared to have opened up in front of a warehouse that sold sports apparel. The hole was wide, though, probably twenty feet in diameter. Cars teetered on the edge and even as we pulled up I saw a red Oldsmobile lose the friction battle and go crashing down out of sight. Earth and rocks spattered up from inside the hole, shooting high into the sky and we heard a screech that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

Belinda jumped out, head down. “Let’s do this.”

I followed in a hurry. The balmy weather gave me a false sense of security. Nothing bad ever happened when it was this syrupy warm, did it? I heard sirens on the wind. I saw Johnny drifting toward me as we neared the edge.

I looked down.

And got my first real look at a hierarchy demon.

The man stared up at us, dressed all in black and wearing a well-cut suit and designer tie. He stood knee deep in filth, in rubble, in human detritus. Bodies lay broken or squirming at his feet. His fists were clenched, his mouth twisted into a content smile. My stomach turned, but it was the eyes that held us all, the fire-pit stare that held us, mesmerized us, and seemed to drag us all straight down to
hell.

Asmodeus was dressed like a banker, a politician. If you’d seen him walking along any high street you wouldn’t have given him a second glance. It was only when his mouth opened and I saw the flicking forked tongue and the rows of sharp teeth, the blood
on his lips like smears of wine, that I could tell the difference. Then an unearthly shriek split my hypnotic state apart and I almost slipped over the edge of the hole.

Cheyne and Giles waved their instructions. “Logan. Trevochet! Get it together. We have people alive down there. Tanya, wait at the edge with Belinda. If the demon gets up here it could go hand-to-hand. Ceriden, Jade, with us!”

They leaped, scrambling down the hole, straight at Asmodeus. Lysette screamed after Giles. He was no supernatural creature, just a man, but one with a huge set of cojones, going after this demon head on. Cleaver jumped into the fray too, probably assuming they’d just missed him out. I watched as our people slid and slithered down the incline, dislodging rubble along the way, and saw Asmodeus grin.

I glanced sideways at Johnny. “You ready?”

“Sure am.”

I focused. I knew Lucy and Ethan were behind me, relatively protected, but the niggling fear still made my skin crawl. I shook it off, feeling a sudden warmth in my chest. The power was coming. Down below,
Jade the elf struck at Asmodeus hard, a blow that would have shattered a brick wall. The demon caught it on one arm, seemingly surprised when the arm flopped down against his own chest. The bones had broken. The demon tried to waggle the appendage, but little happened. The look of surprise changed to amusement.

“Weak, pathetic garbage.”

The demon’s voice was gravelly, deeper than anything I’d ever heard. It made me shudder. But the thing was still smiling, swinging its one good arm at Jade and managing to knock her off balance and against the side wall. Then it swung around and faced Ceriden. The tall vampire flew at it, striking at chest level, forcing it back and over the tops of still-moving bodies. It grabbed a handhold in the pit wall, swung Ceriden around and sprawling. Then Cheyne was half a dozen steps away, her lips moving, her fingers waving in errant patterns like a child scrawling on a chalkboard.

The ground underneath the demon became a wave. The thing pitched forward, landing face first. Cheyne looked like she was performing another spell that, by the pushing motions of her hands, might even bind it to the ground. My own power was pumpe
d and ready to join with Johnny’s, but we held off, giving Cheyne the chance to end this quickly.

We should have known better. The suited figure feigned a struggle then, when Cheyne started to push forward, rose quickly to its feet. A power wave shot out from its body, felling everything around and traveling vertically up the sides of the pit. I felt it pass me by and shoot up into the balmy night.

Giles shouted, “Stop him!”

Cleaver dived head first. The demon
leaped over him. Johnny and I unleashed our own wave of power, funneling it so that it struck Asmodeus in the chest and knocked him to the ground. He landed atop two writhing bodies, making them cry out. Again Johnny and I struck—the power rising readily between us—and again Asmodeus wilted. I heard Johnny laugh. Probably not a very good idea.

Then Cleaver hit the demon, smashing its already broken arm, and hurl
ed the body over his shoulder. His shotgun appeared in two hands and he lined it up over his bended knee, finger already tightening on the trigger.

“Say bye
—”

Asmodeus exploded into action so quickly he defied sight.
The movement was so fast; so beyond the physical capabilities of the body he inhabited, it shredded skin. Cleaver hit the floor, shotgun pointed up toward the sky, and Asmodeus barreled into Cheyne. I flung my power in the demon’s direction, striking only the side of the sinkhole and dislodging a large chunk of masonry that tumbled end over end.

Asmodeus was on his hands and knees, snarling up at
us like a trapped, dangerous dog, only a million times more threatening.

Lucy.

I couldn’t help it. Her safety overrode all. I turned slightly, then felt something hit me. It was a train, or a car, surely not the man in the suit. My chest exploded in agony. I fell backward. Two feet planted themselves near my head and I stared up into dripping jaws and molten eyes.

“As I said. Weak. Pathetic. Garbage.”

Again, my body shuddered in nightmarish reaction. One of the boots lifted and I rolled out of the way just in time. I struggled to my knees. Behind Asmodeus I spotted Lucy. The demon had ignored her, disdainful, not realizing she was an elemental and one of the Chosen. I saw a dancing wall of water split into several flowing funnels as her eyes turned white. I saw Ethan’s fangs elongate at her side.

Then Johnny flew past me.

“No!”

When I say
flew
, I mean it literally. His wheelchair had somehow been lifted into the air and propelled at terrible speed, high in the sky, fast becoming a speck. It was almost as if a bungee cord had somersaulted it up from the ground. Natalie screamed and ran forward. I stared helplessly.

“No.”

My heart skipped. I had a second to wonder if I might somehow save Johnny by calling up a cushion of air, a force-field or some damn thing, but then Lucy unleashed her water bomb and we were all smashed off our feet.

Our companions made it over the edge of the sinkhole, back in
to the fray.

I coughed, tried to clear my eyes. The demon still stood, though
was hunched over and dripping with water. I saw it send a regretful glance toward the members of Aegis climbing over the edge of the hole and then that terrible smile came back.

From a jacket pocket it produced a tiny box, some kind of trinket box overlaid with emaciated scrawls. It looked ancient. It looked like an artefact.

Damn!
We were too late.

“The end draws near
,” it hissed. “Prepare yourself.”

It
shot away, scrambling on all fours but traveling faster than a car, a nightmare vision of scurrying arms and legs dashing up the middle of the road.

I turned desperately, Asmodeus already forgotten. “Cheyne!” I screamed, pointing at the skies. If anyone could save Johnny
now, it would be the witch.

Cheyne looked up, but there was no stopping the bullet that plummeted toward her. Barely one word crossed her lips before Johnny Trevochet’s wheelchair smashed into the ground at intense speed. Steel
, plastic and metal parts blasted away from the point of impact, a blizzard of sharp parts and zipping fragments. I barely managed to lift my arm up before several particles tore into the sleeve of my jacket right in front of my face. The sharp sting of broken flesh made me wince. Several other objects pierced my jeans, but thankfully none of them drew blood. The crash and reverberation of the wheelchair’s landing blasted our eardrums, but mercifully masked anything else until I heard Natalie Trevochet’s screams split the night apart.

Ken strode ahead through the
acerbic byways of hell, a mismatched group of warring heroes at his back.

Past abandoned building after abandoned building they walked, treading carefully through the wild foliage and sometimes having to walk through entire derelict structure
s. Within the crumbling walls were strange skeletons, terrifying skulls and vertebras, all made oddly even more chilling by the presence of shattered glass everywhere—the human touch. An empty elevator shaft. A boiler house. Once, even a battered desk. The group’s mood quickly changed from one of optimism to fear and quiet fatalism as they walked through the cataclysm that had once been a form of earth.

The miles passed beneath their feet. The
somber mood stopped all conversation and Ken was soon left with his own uncharacteristically muted thoughts. Of course, they centered around the petite lycan and her killer body. His mind wandered, and when he once noticed Mai the vampire send him an appraising look the next sixty minutes passed in a blur. Still, when Eliza suggested they stop for the night her words sent a tremor of fear through him.

A small deserted house stood off to the right, pretty much covered by wildly growing foliage but at least offering a smidgen of comfort. The rest soon brought another matter to the forefront of Ken’s mind, one that he
would probably have thought of earlier if he’d had room for any other considerations.

“Our food supply ain’t exactly inspiring,” he said, turning out his pockets and finding three crumpled energy bars.

“There are places you can barter for food and water,” Lilith told them. “But not here. There is a grand bazaar on the fifth level and another on the third. If that is all the food you have I would say we need to reach it by tomorrow.”

“We need no food
,” Milo said with typical vampiric arrogance. “At least, not for several weeks.”

“I could murder a royal
stag,” Felicia breathed hotly, then snapped her gaze to Ken. “Or a stallion.”

The Californian almost blushed. He hadn’t been expecting that. And exactly how did she mean it anyway? Good murder or bad? And did she mean to eat or something else?
Bah! Why are there always so many connotations?

The house held no surprises
: full of debris and dust, slowly being eaten by age. A dreary, forlorn wisp of wind blew through its open windows. The vampires chose a room then turned their backs on the rest. Ken found himself with Lilith and Felicia. They chose the next room and each plonked down with their backs to a corner away from the empty doorframe.

“How did you survive down here?” Ken asked Lilith, knowing that she clearly didn’t want to reveal her past and her problems, but now even more amazed and full of admiration for her. “Especially alone.”

“I moved slowly,” she said. “Careful never to reveal my passing. Always . . . cautious.”

“You sound like me
,” Ken began, then stopped as Felicia snorted.

“You!” She guffawed. “You shout your thoughts every minute for all to see!”

Ken glared indignantly. “I so do not!”

Lilith gave him a little smile. “Actually, you do. I’ve never seen
anyone undressed with someone’s eyes before and I have to say it’s an odd experience. Especially, I imagine, for the person on the receiving end.”

Ken winced. “I’m off my game
,” he muttered. “Comes with the damn territory, I guess.” He motioned toward the open window and the brown foliage blowing inside with every gust of wind. “Whoa, that’s cold.”

“Subtle.” Felicia laughed.

“No. Really it’s cold.”

Lilith sighed. “I’m no prude but if you two are gonna do it, can you
go do it in another room?”

Ken
smiled when Felicia reached around to grab him.

*

Lilith reflected on the assumptions that people of Earth naturally jumped to. These guys thought she was young, possibly immature, innocent. They were wrong on all accounts. Lilith was twenty two years old. Her father had stolen her from her mother seventeen years ago and she’d escaped his clutches four times. This, the fourth, was the most interesting and promising so far. Every other time the horrendous and amazingly capable demon, Samael, had always managed to track her and bring her back. But this time, he was distracted, due to the terrible events on earth—as she had known he would be.

This time, she
’d planned her escape very carefully. All the other times were mere practice and familiarization. They had shown her the right ways to go—almost like practicing a puzzle time after time—each new attempt was easier.

And she would never stop trying.

She’d been five when her father had brought her to this place, the place where he dwelled. He’d begat her of a human mother, of course, and left her to gain a little age before ripping her away forever. Lilith remembered her mother’s tears, her anguish, and remembered even now a vow she’d made at the tender age of five.

I will return,
Mum. I will come back to you, no matter what.

Her father, back then,
had laughed aloud. He was powerful, dreadful and, like all demons, believed he was invincible. But none of them were. She had learned that over the last seventeen years. She had learned everything. Her father visited once a week and, garbed in the same visage with which he’d corrupted her mother, sat with her and talked. Eventually, she learned the art of manipulation and began to draw him out. Maybe he could read her intentions, maybe not. It didn’t really matter; he would see it as a sign of corruption. She saw it as an eventual way of escape. The
only
way.

After a time she became aware of her father’s intentions. He intended to fully corrupt her. Perhaps she was a demonic experiment
. . . a test. How long would it take to turn an innocent human child into a demonic being? Perhaps it was his way of showing love.

But it didn’t matter. Her life, her existence, revolved around escape. She learned to become patient, to become observant, to while away her time listening to the chatter of others and gaining their trust. Many odd creatures visited her or were present when her father took her around the various circles of
hell. Some, she even liked. They were too dumb or self-involved to be truly evil.

But not Samael. That demon was the true personification of pure evil, the worst she
’d ever met save for her father.

Lucifer.

The Devil.

When Ken Hamilton and the wolf, Felicia, returned, looking a little hot and bothered, Lilith pondered the question she
’d been struggling with for a while now.

Should she tell them her secret?

Trust was a commodity she held high in value. And she’d only just met these people. Some of them were supernatural beings: vampires, werewolves. In fact, there was only one human and he seemed somewhat uncomfortable in their presence despite his new ‘attachment’ to Felicia. Lilith knew that she must use any means necessary to get back to her mother. Employ every single trick in the book.

She would keep her silence for now. Until she could properly use the revelation to her advantage.

*

Ken was one happy man. Who said an excursion through
hell would be without enjoyment? Felicia was an animal—he laughed inwardly at his own little joke—and sure gave as much as she took away from the experience. His back was furrowed but not bloody, his arms sore where she had gripped. Even his ribs ached. Damn, the girl was strong. He guessed he was lucky to have survived the experience. Somewhere around the middle he had remembered what the female praying mantis did to the male after sex. The thought had wilted the experience somewhat, in more ways than one, but he’d quickly shrugged off the worry and risen once more to the occasion.

Felicia now pranced around as if nothing had happened. Ken found himself wanting to talk, to learn a bit about her, and wondered what the hell he had accidentally taken. Such thought
s never usually crossed his mind after a quick ugly-bump bout. It was more the opposite, more like raiding her fridge and getting the hell outta there.
Figuratively,
he thought with an inner smile.
And literally.

But this? What was going on with him? The surroundings were the problem, of course. No one liked trekking through this desolate and broken
-down world.

Felicia came up behind him, resting her lips against the nape of his neck and sending shudders all the way down to his toes. “Shall we go again? The young one is asleep.”

Ken found himself looking out the shattered window with the brown foliage hanging through, the forlorn rustling stinging his ears, at the dim view of the destroyed world beyond.

“Can we just talk?”
he asked, shocking himself to the very core.

*

Later that night, Ken awoke to the sound of rustling. His eyes immediately sought out Felicia, who was taking her turn on guard. The small lycan was crouched, staring at the open window, shock clear in her eyes.

“Felicia?”

She waved him to silence. “Look.”

Ken
stared. The brown foliage that dangled through the gap was waving,
creeping
toward them, held aloft in the air by its own momentum. As they watched, more vines and brown rustling leaves slipped over the sill, pouring into the room.

Felicia scrambled back. “Are those things
alive
?”

Ken woke Lilith with a shake. “Hey. You seen this before?”

The three of them stepped back toward the door. “Yes.” Lilith nodded. “Anything that once lived or still lives can become animated down here at any time. The dark force is always present. It seems to be pure chance though,” she shrugged, “
when
it happens.”

“Somehow,” Ken grunted. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

The
y backed out into the hallway. All of a sudden one of the vines shot forward like a spear, narrowly missing Ken’s face and striking against the wall at his back. The Californian blurted out an obscenity and raised his sword.

Eliza’s voice rang down the hall. “Unless you can cleave bullets with that I suggest we go.”

Ken ducked as another vine arrowed past his ribs. This one took a chunk out of the plaster. He pushed Lilith before him and ran. Milo and Mai were already near the front door, staring out.

“I hope there’s a back door
,” Milo growled.

Ken jumped on the spot to see past the brute’s shoulders, only stopping when he almost stabbed himself through the foot with the tip of his sword. He did however see what was out there. Vines
, thick branches and clumps of undergrowth were crawling over the door like snakes, almost as if they were attracted to the people within. Even from here Ken could sense their crushing weight. He could hear the frame of the door groaning under the strain.

“Move.” Eliza headed back down the hall.

Ken ran with her. He kept Lilith close but was aware that she showed no obvious signs of fear or distress. This girl was made of stern stuff.
But then,
he thought.
She’s survived for God knows how long in hell.

“Got any ideas?” he asked her.

“I’ve never seen this before.” She made a face. “But running away sounds good to me.”

They raced past the open door to their bedroom. As they passed
, several angry brown shoots fired at them. One ripped through Ken’s jacket, retracting as fast as it came. Another tripped Milo, the big vampire tumbling head first and hitting the floor like a felled buffalo. Ken had to admit to the man’s grace as, with barely an inch of pace lost, the vampire rolled to his feet and kept on running.

Through a rear
door and into the remains of a kitchen they ran. Dull brown cupboards lined the walls. Ken thought about opening a door to check its contents but was worried about what might scuttle out. Eliza reached the back door first.

“We have a chance if we’re quick.”

She gripped the handle and flung the door wide. Outside, thorny creepers slithered along the ground toward them, columns of deadly snakes, but Eliza’s perfect night vision spied a gap to the right.

“Around the side of the house. Follow the paving. Quick!”

Ken hefted the sword and ran hard. A chunky limb waved in the air to his side and he spun on the spot before it could strike, still running, bringing the sword around in a circle and severing it in half.

A keening wail went up, the sound of a dark thing dying in pain. Ken closed his eyes for a second, shuddering, feeling his nerves rattle as the noise
—a chalkboard howl of jagged fingernails—reverberated through the air. Several more branches twisted toward him, raising up until they were level with his shoulders and swaying in anger.

He swung the sword, but it was Lilith and Felicia
that pulled him aside as the limbs struck. He brushed a shoulder against the side of the house, and right next to him one of the larger branches smashed
right through
the brick wall. The sword blade chopped it in half, its cry striking at the night like vicious murder.