Of Saints and Shadows (1994) (48 page)

He was up in a flash, though, and back at his post even as burning flesh and clothing rained from the air. He didn’t think they’d try that again, at least for a while. He looked at the heavy sky, through the falling snow, and realized that soon they’d be getting desperate. It wouldn’t be too long until dusk. Not long at all.

His eyes were torn from the clouds by the roar of the demon that charged him, the blood of churchmen decorating its mouth and claws.

They were desperate all right.

“NO, ROBERT!” MULKERRIN YELLED TO THE youngest Montesi. “We can’t afford to break off now, with Isaac dead.”

“I didn’t ask
you
to stop, Liam. You’ll have to make do without me for a few moments.”

“Do not approach the creature personally! Use your sorcery!”

“No,” Robert answered, dropping one sword and unsheathing another, far more ornate. “This sword is meant to spill the blood of the hellspawn that killed my father. And it shall!”

With that, he ran off toward the Doge’s Palace, in front of which Lazarus was eliminating the largest demon they had yet seen, a twenty-foot monstrosity with what appeared to be vaginal openings covering its body. The ancient Defiant One slashed at the demon’s legs and body, only to have the silver sword become stuck within one of its thousands of vaginas. Instead of fighting to withdraw it, Lazarus stuck the sword deeper, twisting and hacking, as the deadly metal cut through the thing like butter. The demon doubled over from the pain, and Lazarus drove the silver sword deeper into its abdomen, where he knew its hellish heart would be.

As Robert ran toward Lazarus a voice cried out in his mind, but this time, it was his own.

How in the name of God did he know where to strike?

Clearly, there was more to this Defiant One than even Mulkerrin knew, but Robert was not deterred. They all would die, but this one was his sole target now. His father’s murder would be avenged. He raised high his sword as Lazarus turned to meet him.

Mulkerrin had worried for a time, especially at the death of Isaac Montesi, and then when the Defiant Ones had been joined by more of their kind. Though Robert’s impetuousness gave him pause, he now realized he had been foolish to feel such concern. Their reinforcements had been even less confident about being out in the daylight than the previous group. Even though the sun was obscured by the clouds and snow, making it seem nearly night, its rays were still too powerful when combined with the suggestions long ago implanted in their minds. Though his group had taken severe losses both from the Defiant Ones and from Mulkerrin’s shadow slaves, were in fact down to barely more than fifty, though he and his acolytes were feeling weak from both summoning and manipulating demons, they still had the upper hand. The newly arrived Defiant Ones had barely made a difference in the inevitable outcome.

Only five Defiant Ones remained in St. Mark’s Square: Octavian, Hannibal, Cody October, Genghis, and the murderer of Vincent Montesi, whose name Mulkerrin did not know. One other, the stocky Asian, who had already once gone for help, had fled yet again. Mulkerrin wondered if it was for more reinforcements, or to protect those of his kind at the theater, whose numbers the trackers had estimated at more than three hundred. Also there were the two females guarding the book at the home of Hannibal, but even if night fell before they reached the house, two Defiant Ones would be nothing for his sorcery, even weakened, when he had his acolytes at his side.

They had been having trouble at the theater, but Mulkerrin had sent one of Sister Mary’s own apprentices to summon demons to destroy the guardian there. According to radio reports, it was only one creature. Surely they could destroy one creature. They must, really. Dusk would not be long in coming now, less than an hour. But it would be done, he was confident. These five would be destroyed and the theater taken shortly, and then they could retrieve the book. So certain was Liam Mulkerrin of the inevitability of his success that he even took the time for a short rest. He sat and watched as several dozen shadows of all kinds and evils surrounded four of the remaining Defiant Ones, all but Vincent Montesi’s killer, whom Robert was even now confronting, sword waving. Sister Mary Magdalene and Thomas Montesi would have no problem now. As many demons as these final creatures slew, more could be called up at any time.

In fact, he thought it best to go to the theater and ensure victory there so that the sleepers could be destroyed by nightfall. It would be disaster if this was not accomplished.

As he slashed at the demons, not daring to transform for fear of dropping his best weapon, the silver sword, Peter saw Mulkerrin stand with purpose. It had infuriated him to sec the man just sitting there all this time. All they needed to do was hold out until dark, though he was beginning to wonder if they could do so. They’d made repeated attempts to kill the sorcerer and his acolytes, but the shadows were simply too numerous. Mulkerrin’s mist-wraiths darted about the heads of Peter and the others, and though they wouldn’t come too close as long as the immortals held their swords, the things still served as a terrible distraction. As Peter watched, Mulkerrin beckoned the wraiths to him.

He’s leaving!

“Genghis,” Peter shouted over the roar of the shadow beasts, thankful that the other banshee had been terminated an hour before. “Don’t let him go!”

He motioned toward Mulkerrin, and Genghis, covered in burning demon gore, as were they all, saw the problem immediately. Neither of them was certain where the sorcerer was headed, but whether to the theater or to Hannibal’s house, they had to prevent his departure.

Hannibal, Cody, and Peter all slashed in one direction, making a deadly gauntlet for Genghis to run. That moment was almost fatal, as a huge shadow grabbed Hannibal’s head from behind and began to squeeze, only to have its hand cut off at the wrist by Cody’s hacking blade.

The light went on.

They all knew that their luck would not have held out even for this long if Lazarus hadn’t told them precisely where to stab in order to destroy the creatures quickly.

Peter had to wonder how he’d come by that information.

“My name is Robert Montesi,” the young acolyte said. “For the murder of my father, I must kill you.”

Lazarus only looked at him, unmoved and unmoving.

“Boy,” he said. “Your father was a man filled with a fanaticism more evil than the darkest imaginings of his rabid mind. Prove yourself a better and smarter man. Go away.”

He knew he could have chosen his words belter, even have attempted to convince the young man he’d been mistaken. He could have. He did not. Lazarus watched as the rage reddened Robert Montesi’s face, as the man’s eyes widened with shock and fury. He shook his head.

“Take me then,” he said. “I will not stop you.”

And he could have. The hatred in Montesi made him careless, and as he attacked, no magic save what little existed in the poison metal of his sword, he left himself completely open for counterattack. Even if Lazarus had been a human swordsman of moderate ability, he could have stopped Montes!, a dangerous man at any moment other than this, when he’d lost all control. The apple hadn’t fallen far, Lazarus thought.

Then Lazarus was run through with a sword specifically chosen for that purpose. He bent over it, crying out and squinting at the poison magic of the silver, and Robert came in close to him, using both hands to ram the blade deeper, to the hilt in his belly. Lazarus threw his arms around Robert, and they clutched like lovers. Hands at the side of Montesi’s head, Lazarus drew him close and whispered to him.

“Happy, boy? What a triumph for you.”

“For my father, devil!” Robert shouted, his face red with effort as he dragged the blade up, widening the wound he’d made.

He began to draw back, to survey his work, perhaps to behead the murdering beast, but found he could not. What had seemed a weakened, dying gesture now stood revealed as otherwise. Lazarus’s hands held tight to Robert’s head and pulled him closer still. He struggled, forgetting his sword, kicking and beginning a spell to call shadows to his rescue. There was no time.

“Like you,” Lazarus whispered, “your father knew less than nothing.”

Robert felt cold lips on his neck, and icy teeth tore into his flesh.

Mulkerrin was preparing to leave, borne aloft by the wraiths so they might spirit him the few short blocks to the theater, when he saw Genghis running toward him. He thought little of it. The Defiant One would be too timid to transform, he thought, to shift his shape to that of a bat to fly in pursuit.

But, like his namesake, Genghis had been a warrior in life, and though he feared the daylight, had seen many of his kind killed by it since the battle began, still he would conquer it. And he did. Dropping his sword so as not to absorb the silver into his new shape, he became a huge, terrible winged predator, a black death. Of all the forms his kind traditionally took, he had always favored the bat.

Mulkerrin was surprised, but only momentarily. Swiftly he was brought back to earth, and the mist-wraiths turned on Genghis. Without his sword, and concentrating on his metamorphosis, he was easy prey. The creatures filled him, bloated him, destroyed him in a violent spray of innards. From the other side of the square a shout told Mulkerrin that Octavian and his monstrous allies were surprised. They ought not to have been, he thought, for they would be next.

He turned to his enslaved mist-creatures, preparing to leave once again, when he remembered Robert. He glanced over just in time to see Lazarus pull his bloody mouth from Robert’s throat, dropping the young man’s corpse, and lift his head. Mulkerrin was stunned. After his father, Robert had been Liam’s best and final hope. None of his other acolytes or apprentices had the vigor, the courage, and the dedication of Robert Montesi. He might have wished all of them dead to bring Robert back to life.

And it could not be. Robert had driven the silver sword right through the creature. Yet now, as Mulkerrin watched, the monster drew the sword from its belly and lifted it high, a silent challenge to the rest of them. Even without the mental constraints the church had put on them, no Defiant One was
completely
immune to the poisons of silver! And this was the creature who had known just where to strike the demons.

He couldn’t leave now, not until this one was dead. It was too dangerous. He would kill this nameless one and then move to assist his soldiers at the theater.

Thomas
, he snapped in his mind as he saw the elder, the final Montesi running toward the thing that had slain his brother,
you must not attack that one. I will kill it myself. You and the Magdalene must continue your attack on the others, keep them in control. We can still win this!

A real voice, that of Sister Mary Magdalene, safely surrounded by the surviving troops, burst into the air, a message, a warning to them all.

“LOOK!”

Even some of the demons followed her order, glancing skyward.

Mulkerrin began to smile. Two forms flapped toward them through the snow, already gliding lower to land by their fellows. But only two! If this was the best the Defiant Ones could muster, then they still might have a chance to win.

His smile stopped as Liam saw what Sister Mary had been shouting about. One of the creatures who now landed by the trapped vampires was not a bat at all, but the largest falcon he had ever seen.

“My God!” Traccy whispered. “Sandro, they’re not going to make it, are they?”

It wasn’t right what was happening. The world couldn’t discover these wondrous and terrible beings and then have them destroyed before their eyes. She wanted to help, but she knew that she’d be killed in an instant. The irony was not lost on her as she hoped that Cody and Peter would be all right.

She and Sandro had settled into one spot, in the shadows of the arcade. The snow and the darkening skies made it difficult to get a clear picture of the action, but it was certainly clear enough to see the violations of nature that were taking place, the monstrous things of nightmare that slaughtered fighters from both sides. When this tape was broadcast from Rome, it would be like the creation of a new world.

From time to time, when the snow let up for a few moments, it was clear enough to see the transformations some of the Defiant Ones underwent, transformations that look Tracey’s breath away.