Rapture Falls (37 page)

             
Raphael pushed himself back from the oak desk once more damning the puny limitations of these fragile human forms, his neck ached and his eyes blurred with overuse from the computer screen. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and allowed himself the smallest of self satisfactory back pats, he had seen only too well the dangers of succumbing to human emotions from Gabriel and now it would appear Michael too.
He cared little for the zealots and their ideals, it had been so long ago now that he could not even begin to fathom fact from fiction as far as the cube was concerned. As far as he was concerned the damn thing could stay lost forever as could their estranged father, Michael and Lucifer had always felt their abandonment for greater than the others, it had always driven their motives hard. Raphael had constantly maintained a distance from the
emotions of their perceived
betrayal;
he considered himself a pragmatist, adaptable to any situation and determined to thrive no matter what the circumstances. It was these character traits that had led to his natural accounting
abilities;
he was a master at picking the right stocks and shares, the right companies to invest in and the right time to dump. It was all a cold calculation game requiring research and patience, when you had been around since the beginning of
creation;
you had plenty of time for both. Raphael knew that he had never been seen as a warrior amongst his brothers and therefore he held the lowest standing, he had always valued his mind over their brawn, here on earth brains would appear to triumph
over strength. He thought that his brothers would be shocked to learn of his sole control over their finances, only he had the codes and numbers that held their vast fortunes, let them fight for mythical objects he would hold the money and with it the real power in the real world. Samyaza was napping in the corner, sprawled out cold on a plush leather
sofa;
Raphael could tell from the start that his brother had no interest in the financial machinations of their future. Samyaza was only interested in the strength of his fists and the limited power derived ther
e
in, it was the failing of his kind and would be the foundations of his success.

             
Lucifer yawned and stretched feeling the pops and cracks of her lithe frame, McCullum was sitting alert and ready like an attack dog poised for its command. She had allowed a little of her essence to infect his body, stirring it into animation and making him useful, they had to take the farm and she needed him at her side
. She ran a soft hand through his hair, growing to warm to his company and feeling a mild discomfort at the thought of him being gone from her side. Is this what the humans called love or affection she wondered, she had witnessed human pairings interacting in the park when she had been studying them, hands clasped together, dogs and owners playing joyfully, rolling on the balmy grass. She knew of course of the gentle eroding of the archangels dispassionate natures through the ages, she had seen glimpses of humanity creeping through the longer that they stayed in these forms, she had always considered it to be a weakness, but now she fo
und a strange form of comfort in
the contact.

             
She looked around the darkening farm from their vantage po
int, the lengthy shadows offering
excellent cover, it was time.

             
McCullum heard the call through the swirling mists that clouded his mind, it wasn’t unpleasant here, lost in the foggy recess, for the first time in a very long time he was at peace. His mind was absent of strain, there were no work demands, no family tensions, no pressure to conform with colleagues or form meaningless friendships. Here he just was, her voice soothed his thoughts and calmed his waters, the man he was no longer existed
,
if indeed it ever had, any time that a cognitive idea floated toward his circle of light from beyond
the
darkened boundaries it was quickly extinguished. He was a knight, he knew that now, he had always been her knight, he could not see her favour tied to his arm but he felt its
presence
just the same
and now she had need of him
again;
he galloped toward the light and into her bidding.

             
Justin Castle stamped his feet and balled his toes in a vain attempt to alleviate the cold that crept into his feet despite his thermal protection,
fucking typical,
he thought,
why do
I always pull the shit duty.
He knew that inside the warm farmhouse Manning would be laughing at him with his usual wit and grace, every time that they played rock, paper, scissors he seemed to lose resulting in his exile to the cold.
His supervisor was a nightmare to work under, always quick with a scathing comment or a public
putdown;
he seemed to delight in making life as difficult for those around him as possible.
Night was falling fast and the temperatures were plummeting just as quickly, he could not see why they even needed sentries, from what he had heard the half-breed was chained to the walls of the pit and going nowhere especially with Azazel for company, he did not envy Baine one little bit.
He hated being outside especially with those damn Reapers around here somewhere, they were supposedly under the Archangels control but he did not trust them any more than he would a rapid dog.
He had been a member of the 11
^th
Order for over twenty years now, following in footsteps laid down
over
centuries
, the Castle’s had been loyal and obedient members of the Order since the beginning, Justin however had his own mind and had never been content with merely following. He had worked under Raphael in the finance
department;
he had seen the facts and figures of the current wealth and had drooled over the projections for the new Orders
potential
future. Despite his
father’s
devotion to the 11
^th
Order, Justin had never shared
in
his zeal for the cause,
growing tired of his ailing father’s nagging for him to produce an heir to carry on the name,
there’s always time,
he had told the old man before he’d died
,
always time.
H
e had wondered on many occasions if the Grigori would not make a more suitable home for him and his tastes, then his prayers had been truly answered when Manning had brought him to the countryside. Here was a chance for him to carve out his own future, to seize his own place at the top table,
to get out from under Manning, accidents happen all the time around farmyard machinery,
suddenly he did not feel the cold night air, or the damp mud beneath his impractical shoes, or his legs, or the wet patch spreading across the front of his trousers, or the ground as he collapsed upon it. He could not move as a shadow loomed over him, paused briefly to check on his fading condition then swiftly moved on
, Castle’s eyes drooped slowly as the blackness took him,
just take Manning as well,
was his last thought as the Castle line ended.

             
Lucifer moved swiftly and deadly through the shadows, blood dripped from a wicked looking
silver
blade
with strange ancient etchings carved into the handle
leaving a black trail behind her, McCullum trotted carefully in her wake stooped and low, his movements were intuitive she was pleased to see. She had slackened his noose slightly to allow him to be of more use than a dozing puppy, now he was Rottweiler all teeth and claws, suppressing his humanity allowed him to be a remorseless weapon.

             
A couple were rutting amongst the hay bales under the corrugated ramshackle roof,
careless
,
Lucifer smiled to herself, she motioned to McCullum with a flick of her slender wrist, he drew a matching blade
in a smooth expert motion and detoured toward the couple. Lucifer heard only stifled moans and no screams she noted with pleasure, only a wet ripping sound as McCullum opened their throats, he joined her quickly crouched at the barns exit, the coppery smell of fresh blood on his knife but not on his clothing. The farmhouse lights lit some of the windows casting outward light into the yard beyond, the both edged around the troublesome glows that threatened to illuminate their presence. She could smell Baines flowing blood and entrails from here along with one of her kin, they both seemed to emanate from beneath the ground, out into the field beyond the house an almost imperceptible soft smoulder of light gently flickered
from atop a trap-door she mused. She knew that a diversion was needed if she was to take Baine from the clutches, she realised that it was with some regret that she would have to send McCullum into the
lion’s
den to create such an opening. The last few days had taught her that if she was to have a future on top of the food chain then she needed the half-breed, the old Orders had fallen, the old ways were finally dead and blown to dust, it was time to cleanse and begin anew. She reached out and gently touched the detective’s cool forehead, his heartbeat was steady and hands held true, he looked up with trust and devotion, it was a look she felt that she could never tire of.

Two more sentries wandered by, noisily complaining about the cold and damp, their movements careless and unperturbed, both held British Army issue
SA80 A2 LSW
machine guns, but held them loosely. She withdrew her hand from McCullum’s head and nudged him gently away.

The two men were around ten to twelve feet away, the detective covered the distance in a flash, his movements were almost feline in their grace, he took the first sentry from behind, his left hand gripped the
man’s
head and pulled it back exposing his throat. The knife was razor sharp, as he sliced it open he twisted the sentries head toward his companion spraying the second man in a deep red mist blinding and confusing him, he released one already dead man and stepped into the
second’s
proximity driving the blade up and under his throat silencing and killing at the same time. McCullum bent to retrieve one of the weapons from the floor, he turned back towards Lucifer still concealed within the shadows, he received her instructions soundlessly and nodded.

Lucifer waited until the
sounds of the
crash of the farmhouse door being kicked open and the shouts and screams
punctuated by the spitting venom of the gun before she broke cover and ran to the concealed door in the middle of the fields, her worry over McCullum was distracting,
damn you Baine
, she thought,
you better be worth it
.

             
Baine
’s
vision blurred around the edges as his body was worked to its maximum capacity to cope with the terrible wounds inflicted by a vengeful archangel. He had sworn to himself that he would not give the son of bitch the satisfaction of the music of his screams, it was a promise that he was unable to keep. With his arms raised above his head his was able to just about ease the strain by balancing on his toes but the floor was increasingly slippery with his own blood as he twisted on the vine. Azazel had worked feverishly ripping and tearing at his exposed chest and stomach, his clothes long since discarded lay in rags on the floor, exposing his vulnerabilities. He had drifted closer and closer to the brink of death several times only for the angel to drag him back at the last minute, until now he had been convinced that he could not die, but now he knew the truth
,
that
despite all of his abilities the dark waited for him just the same.