Nightbringer (23 page)

He still had more than enough to take Raphael to the ground, but he wouldn’t do it until he was certain that Raphael’s exhaustion was complete for once it happened, there would be retreat and no second chance.

Cassius had seen it, and known it, too many times. A blow thrown late in a fight that would finish an opponent would have no effect at all thrown early in the fight. It was only a question of choosing the opportune moment to unleash.

He ignored the wetness warming his back – shallow wounds. They look bad enough but a small amount of blood loss isn’t enough to affect fighting ability. He’d bled his entire life and was familiar with it. He was even encouraged by it because in every other battle where he had fought and bled, he had won.

Blood
inspired victory.

Already they
’d descended more than a mile into the catacombs and Cassius didn’t question how much farther this would go. If Raphael led him to the center of the earth, he would follow because he wasn’t letting it escape this time.

No, not this time.

He had chased it across the world a dozen times and always, through some act of diabolical cunning, it had eluded him at the end. More than once it had simply injured an innocent child – not killing, but severely wounding, forcing Cassius to make a hard decision—save the life of a child or allow the child to die and finish the fight.

Cassius had never been able to finish the fight.

But here, in these catacombs, there was no one it could use. It had come down to the two of them.

Cassius didn
’t hesitate as he reached a thirty foot gap, leaping across the ravine in a rush of air that rose beneath him like an invisible wing, the height of his jump lasting long enough to clear the distance before he began to descend. He was running as his foot touched the far ledge, nor did he hesitate to search for an ambush. In fact, he preferred a hand-to-hand situation now. At least if he had his hands on the infernal beast, he knew where it was and could kill it.

Cassius didn
’t need to crouch to read tracks. Raphael was moving quickly, not turning around to see if he was followed because he
knew
he was followed. Yes, Raphael was searching for a place to launch another ambush – a place that would be high and dark, and Cassius mentally counted his remaining weapons.

He
’d snatched up and reloaded a single Colt .45 before he fled after Raphael, so he had nine big rounds. He retained the poniard – a forthright weapon with a double-edged, 12-inch blade – that had been steeped deep in the beast’s blood and … that was it.

A surge of fear rushed from the center of Cassius into his fingertips. He shook his head violently to scatter sweat from his face as he came down in a low crouch where eight tunnels connected to a huge chamber with a climbing ceiling.

Huge boulders and rocks littered the floor where they had fallen for probably a thousand years and would fall for a thousand more until the ceiling reached the surface and the cavern became a gigantic sinkhole. It was inherently unstable—not a wise place to fire a handgun.

Cassius heard a growl emanating from every tunnel at the same moment. He stopped moving. It was impossible to isolate the origin, for deep sound carried farther than high-pitched sound.

Raphael was close, yes, but how close …

Sweat dropped from Cassius
’ brow. He blinked and shook his head once more. His neck and chest and arm were warm with blood as if he lay in hot water—utterly comfortable. He didn’t even feel the pain yet. But he had learned long ago to judge an injury by sight. He understood delayed reactions, nerve points, and the minute complexities of blood pressure and blood loss and what pain could and couldn’t indicate.

Centuries and centuries ago he had come to regard his body much like a machine. He pushed it like a machine. He
maintained it like a machine and depended on it like one would depend on a trusted machine.

The growl shuddered across the cavern floor once more.

Cassius stood poised, the handgun hanging at his side. He did not draw the poniard, hoping that he would have a chance to put more than one clip into Raphael before the battle again disintegrated into hand-to-hand combat. And he sensed that he stood a good chance against the Nephilim—
this
Nephilim, at least.

It was flesh. It could bleed
. It could starve. It could freeze to death or die by fire. But the bottom line was that it
would
die. Fire or water or swords or guns could destroy it. Its strength was not unlimited. Its ability to heal was much the same as his, nor was it immune to fear.

Cassius listened in stillness until the low growl faded to such silence that even the stones seemed to whisper from the trickles of an underground stream. Then he heard confused shouts somewhere in the distance.

Gina…

Cassius couldn
’t allow the distraction, but it had come at the worst possible moment. He had sensed that the end was near, but now there would be other factors—Gina and whoever else came into this section of tunnels. He had to force a confrontation—fast.

“
It’s over, Raphael.”

Cassius walked toward a tunnel. If it was the wrong tunnel, it would only compel Raphael to attack him from the back. But not even Raphael could move across these brittle crumbs of slate without making a sound.

It was all the warning Cassius would need.

“
Raphael!” he shouted and began walking before all the tunnels, gun at his side, tempting the Nephilim. Then he decided on something more. “Since we have this moment, just you and me, tell me how it feels to be alone.”

A snarl rumbled from the far side of the chamber.
“You should know better.”

At a soft scrape, Cassius lifted his head.

Closing … descending…

Cassius moved to the middle of the chamber.
“Gladimus is gone, Raphael. And Barbatos—Vassago of Jerusalem, Berith of Rome, Marbus … Even Bael.”

“
Yes,” Raphael whispered—close now. “I heard of your battle with Bael. They say it lasted an entire night and that Bael died … horribly.”

To the left
… forty feet.

“
It was his choice.” Cassius didn’t look in Raphael’s direction. “Bael showed no mercy. I returned the same.”

“
But now you are trapped, Cassius, and even your great strength is not unlimited.” A laugh. “Yes, you are right. We care nothing for the spear. As you say, it would do us no good. But to see you die will be worth the years of planning … and the sacrifices.”

Lower
… twenty feet.

Clearly knowing the end, Cassius, strangely, was surprised with an impulse of regret.
“I did not wish a war with your kind, Raphael. If you had only remained in your place …”

“
I will never return to that place
!” Raphael snarled. “
I choose the pleasures of this world
!”

The Nephilim was as close as twenty feet now—too close. Cassius had to make the creature move now.

“Enough,” he said and turned his back to the beast, walking away. “You choose to hide here. You can die here. I’ll bring down the tunnel and bury you.”

The fast, muffled sound of steps racing toward him was all Cassius needed. He waited a full second and then spun and dropped.

The clawed hand that tore through smoking black air made no sound until it struck the limestone wall, slicing off a chunk as large as a shield. Cassius dropped the .45 to his left hand as Raphael spun into him and blocked a backhand blow with his right arm, firing past his own ribs to hit the Nephilim with three big rounds.

The consecutive impacts seemed to affect Raphael far more than the earlier rounds that he
’d absorbed with little more than a curse. And Cassius knew the Nephilim was approaching the end of its strength. He spun to face Raphael head-on and fired the final six rounds straight into its chest.

Raphael, as any creature, was forced back by the thunderous impacts of the .45. But when the slide finally stopped, the Nephilim bent for a split second and then launched itself forward. Cassius had no time to consider anything but evading. He caught its arms and twisted, using its momentum and bulk to carry it over his shoulder.

It was a good move—strong and balanced—and cast the Nephilim a dozen feet. But it was no more than a brief respite, for Raphael reached his feet almost instantly and charged again, roaring this time because there was no more cause for silence. The chamber and tunnels rolled with the tremendous bellow, and Cassius also charged, ripping his poniard from its sheath.

They collided in the center of the tunnel, arms intertwining and locking in a dozen holds, releasing and locking again until they froze in position, swaying back and forth.

A snarl burst from Cassius’ lips as he resisted Raphael’s supernatural strength. He could feel his grip slip inch by inch and knew he would lose control faster than the Nephilim. He tried to shift, to bring its head down and avoid the fangs, more dangerous than knifes. But Raphael was prepared for that and jerked his head back as Cassius reached for its neck.

Then in a blast of frantic motion the Nephilim reached up to tear out Cassius
’ throat. Cassius saw the hand only when it touched his neck and turned explosively aside, hurling the creature again. It was like hurling a boulder, and yet again, Raphael rose.

Cassius knew a thousand ground-fighting techniques but ground fighting was primarily a matter of brute strength. There was no finesse, just a savage encounter of muscle against muscle until an opponent gained a superior hold on the other
’s neck, and even then the ending did not come quickly.

Falling into a crouch, Cassius held the poniard low in his right hand and waited. He would strike once and hope that he pierced the cartilage between ribs and struck the heart. Then there was only time to react as Raphael closed the final step and his gigantic arms opened widely for an embrace.

Bringing the dagger up, Cassius leaped inside the arms and stabbed savagely toward Raphael’s chest. The tip of the blade plowed through ribs and Cassius shoved, throwing his full weight behind it, pushing, driving the dagger to the hilt.

Instantly he released and the arms closed around him and Cassius resisted, twisting, spitefully pushing the beast back, but he quickly discovered that Raphael was nowhere near death, as he would have been if Cassius had hit the heart.

Still, a bellow erupted from the beast as Cassius broke its hold and staggered back. Wildly flinging out an arm to sweep the centurion away, Raphael grasped the hilt of the dagger to rip it out of his chest. Instantly he staggered, pressing a huge hand against the wound. His eyes, when he looked at Cassius, mirrored true fear.

Breathless, Cassius nodded.

“
Yes!
...
It’s over
!"

As Raphael began to respond Cassius heard steps and whirled. He flung out an arm. "No!"

It was too late.

Gina and the others rushed into the tunnel and Raphael moved, leaping past Cassius with agility unaffected by the
wound. As it landed, Gina had time for a single burst from the Uzi. Then Raphael struck her and bounded into the heart of the monks, sweeping aside a half-dozen spears lifted desperately at the last moment. Raphael struck but once before a monk fell back, blood erupting from his neck.

Then the monsignor leaped forward, driving the long leaf-shaped spear-point into Raphael's back. Arching and howling, Raphael turned into the attack like a bear. He lashed out and struck the monsignor. Cassius recognized the sound of the impact—the sound of a meat cleaver cutting through bone—and knew the monsignor was dead.

The priest staggered back in shock and Cassius knew the monsignor did not even know the blood was erupting from his throat with each heartbeat. Then Cassius had no more time as Raphael turned on Rachel and Josh, clearly intending to wound them as he had always wounded an innocent bystander or child, forcing Cassius to abandon the fight.

Cascading with blood like a bull pierced with swords and spears, breathing bloody froth, Raphael reached the children one step ahead of Cassius, snatching up Rachel.

"No!" Gina screamed.

Cassius collided with Raphael as the Nephilim attempted to leap outside the melee with the child, and his hand locked hard on Rachel's arm. It was a move that might have torn her shoulder out of socket but Cassius had no choice, and then Rachel crashed to the ground.

Cassius rose instantly, knowing from Rachel's screams that she was still alive, but Raphael was only a split second slower and spun into the centurion. His rush was the rush of a wild bull—arms raised and head lowered to reveal heaping mounds of muscle that could pulverize wood and stone alike.

Cassius caught a glimpse of a solid wall behind him and in the same breath knew the impact would kill him—crushed between Raphael's irresistible rush and the immovable stone.

But as they struck the wall, they blasted stones into dust, and then they were rolling, Raphael passing over Cassius' head.