She turned and saw the man with fire—she still didn’t understand how it was possible. “Keep going,” she told the crew. “I’ll handle him.”
Another flame rose in his hand, quickly forming into a ball that rolled over and over above his skin.
Claire was thirty feet away. She reached down for her pistol, ready to end this quickly. Her hand found only the holster. She looked down and suddenly realized she had dropped the damn thing back in the room.
Fuck, she thought.
She looked over her shoulder briefly, seeing her friends looking at her. They weren’t willing to leave—even Frank had stopped. “If you all don’t leave now, I’m going to do to you what I do to him.”
Jack stepped forward. “We’re not leaving.”
Claire didn’t have time. “Get the hell out of here!” She turned back around. The fireball had grown larger, and the shaking of the building was getting worse. She felt for her blade, but that was gone too. She was defenseless.
“Here.” Jack shoved a knife in her hand, making eye contact with her. “We’ll see you upstairs. Kick his ass.”
The man with the fireball in his hand looked to his left. “I know.”
Claire’s eyes widened, clueless as to who or what he was talking about—unless Hades or that damn dog was standing invisible next to him.
Give them a second to get to the stairs, she thought. Distract him.
A rumble moved from deep beneath the ground. She didn’t have much time. None of them did. Claire started walking forward as she spoke, blade in hand. “Whoever you’re talking to isn’t going to be able to save you.” Just let them get out, she told herself. Keep him busy long enough to let the rest get out.
Marissa screamed from behind Claire. “We’re at the stairs!”
Claire nodded. Good.
The man looked at Claire, the stern look on his face turning to that wicked grin again. He launched the fireball. It blitzed toward her, the heat distorting the air around it. Claire whipped sideways and backed up, slamming into the already shaking glass windows. The fireball soared past Claire and hit the wall at the end of the hall, lighting it on fire.
The man’s eyes were alight with glee. “Your friend, Jack? You want to know who did that to his face?” He pointed a thumb at his chest. “Yours truly.”
Claire’s hand had been on the hat, ready to put it on and end this quickly. She slowly lowered it, gripping the blade tighter with her right hand. She was going to kill this son-of-a-bitch with him looking into her eyes for what he did to Jack.
Another fireball grew in his palm. “The only issue I have is, I won’t be able to take my time with you.”
Claire started running, her legs pumping furiously as she rushed him. The fireball grew larger, but her teeth were bared and she didn’t care if the building came down on her so long as she killed this psychopath.
Claire was ten feet away when he launched the second fireball. It was on her in seconds. She slid to the ground feet first and the fire raced just above her, singeing her hair. She scissored her feet when they connected with his, sending the man to the floor. Another fireball was growing in his hand, and Claire knew she couldn’t dodge it this close.
She leapt to her feet as the man turned his palm to her, and she raised the blade and flung it at the man. It flew straight, driving into his chest through the way to the hilt.
His eyes grew wide, and his mouth dropped open for a moment. The fireball faded from existence as his eyes glazed over.
Claire’s rage was only broken by glass shattering at her side, the building coming down around her. There wasn’t time to consider anything else but the urge to simply run.
The end of the hallway was engulfed in fire, blocking the stairway. Claire turned and looked at the other end, but it ended in a right turn. She looked at the shattered glass window, but fire roared across the open field. Running there would be the same as staying here.
A bright light flashed on Claire’s right. Her head flashed toward it as she raised her blade, ready to attack again.
Frank was standing there in all his green glory. “Calm yerself, lass. I’m here to save the day as always. I’m going to take hold of ye and then we’re teleportin’ out of here, ye got it?”
Claire sheathed the blade. “You’ve got enough control of your teleportation to get us out of here?”
Frank shrugged and grinned. His eyes were alight beneath his bushy brows. “I don’t think ye have any other choice at this point. Come on, lass, enough dancing with the devil.”
Claire nodded, grabbed hold of her friend, and then a light consumed her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Claire’s body ached, but she knew she’d gotten out of there easy.
“Ye have the luck of the Irish, lass,” Frank had told her.
Her face was swollen, and it hurt to open her mouth. She’d been to see Jack in the infirmary yesterday and told him that.
He’d stared at her as if he wanted to jump out of the bed and rip her head off. “Shut it, Claire.”
She’d laughed and then sat down next to Sam. She hadn’t left Jack’s side since they escaped the church from hell.
“How’s Marissa?” Jack asked.
Claire crossed one leg over the other. “She’s in better shape than you. The nurses told me they’re releasing her tomorrow.”
Jack brought a carton of milk to his lips, taking a sip with the straw. When he finished, he shook his head. “I don’t know how you always get out of this stuff uninjured.”
Frank walked into the room just as he spoke. “I’m beginning to think she’s half Irish, lad. That or she’s just lucky I’m always there to save her ass. How’re ye holding up?”
Sam pursed her lips together. “Well, he never stops complaining and thinks his jokes are on par with Chris Rock’s, so I’d say pretty well.”
Jack lowered his milk carton. “You know how it is, Frank. I just need a better audience.” He looked at Claire. “It’s been three days. What the hell is going on out there?”
Frank pointed out his own bruised face. “Hey! Just because we didn’t take the same beating ye did, doesn’t mean we didn’t need medical attention.” He turned around and pointed to the back of his head. Hair was missing at the base of his skull, revealing green skin beneath it. “Nearly went bald trying to save this lass over here.”
Claire chuckled. Frank was pretty amazing. She would never try to take that away from him.
The leprechaun whipped back around. “And might me add, these damned nurses wouldn’t let me go until today, saying I had a concussion. Ye know what that means, lad? Means I haven’t had a beer in three days.”
Claire shook her head, still laughing. “We’re meeting with Remington and Lance in an hour or so. Honestly, I’ve tried to stay away from it all. Haven’t even heard from Al yet—”
Jack sat up and moaned immediately. “Ughh. Damn it. Is he okay? Al?”
Frank stepped forward and put his hand on Jack’s lower leg. “He stopped by my room, lad. He’s okay. Said he’s taking a few days for mental health, but he’ll be back.”
Jack sighed and leaned back on his bed.
Sam smirked. “Careful. People might think you actually have a heart if you keep that up.”
Jack closed his eyes. “Don’t tell anyone. Now go on. You’re meeting them in a few hours? I want to be there.”
Claire shook her head and stood up. “Nope. You and Marissa are staying right where you are for now. We’ll come and tell you what is said when we get back. Like I was saying before you nearly broke yourself trying to sit up, I’ve kept my head down since getting back. I don’t know what’s going on. School seems to be continuing, but no one has talked to me about classes yet. I don’t even know if I’m enrolled.”
With his eyes still closed, Jack smiled. “They should expel you.”
Claire rolled her eyes and turned to Sam. “Remington and Lance didn’t say whether or not you can come, but I suppose you can if you w
ant to.”
Sam shook her head and motioned to the paperback book on her lap. “I’ll just stay here. I’m enjoying the book.”
Claire smiled and nodded. I don’t think that’s all you’re enjoying, but I’m not going to say anything.
“Take her with you,” Jack teased through a smile. “She’s so annoying, Claire.”
Sam raised an eyebrow and looked up at Claire. “It’s amazing any of us put up with him.”
“That is the truth.” Claire turned to Frank. “Come on, Betty. Let’s go see what the FBI guys want.”
Frank gave her a quick glare. “Only that good-for-nothing ghost gets to call me that. We’re grabbing some beer before we have to speak with them.”
Remington and Lance were still in their wheelchairs, though their faces were much less battered-looking than before.
Frank clapped as he walked into the room and laid eyes on the agents. “Thank Zeus! I thought ye two would be ugly forever! Ye are healing up fairly nicely, I’d say!”
Lance looked at Remington, nonplussed.
“I was hoping Hades might have broken his jaw or something,” Remington remarked. “Kept him from talking for a bit.”
Frank raised his open beer to the agents. “No such luck, lads.”
Only the five of them were in Dean Pritcham’s room—the two agents, the dean, Claire, and Frank. Claire didn’t bother sitting down. She remained standing, looking at the two agents in their wheelchairs. “Have you found his body?”
Lance scribbled down something and lifted it up so that Remington could see it. Told you.
Claire shook her head. “No. Not right now. Did you find Hades’ body?”
Remington let out a long sigh. “Sometimes, I think Lance got the better of the beating, not having to explain everything to you.” He met her gaze. “We found no bodies, Claire. None at all. The building collapsed on itself, and flames burnt everything black, but we found absolutely no bodies.”
He raised his hand in protest, seeing she was about to argue with him. “We’re still sifting through the wreckage, so yes, it’s possible we might find something. But as of right now, we’ve found no one and no clues.”
Claire’s heart was thumping in her chest. “What does that mean? There’s no way the cult survived. They were all down there in that room, watching Hades die. Frank and I took care of the only one who left.”
Lance reached into the side of his wheelchair and pulled out a tablet. He handed it to Remington. The agent took it and turned the screen so that it faced Claire and Frank. “Dean Pritcham has already seen this. It’s happening over two oceans, so it hasn’t been spotted by large groups yet, but we think we know what it means.”
The screen lit up, showing two different areas of a night sky. The lightning was unmistakable. It was exactly what Claire had seen before Hades had shown up, except behind the sky this time, where it was thinning, the view was split. On one side, she saw the ocean, and on the other, a mountain with clouds surrounding the peak.
Frank ran a hand through his hair. “Gods, ye have to be kidding. That’s Zeus’ and Poseidon’s realms you’re showing us?”
Remington nodded solemnly. “We think so. We think more gods are coming. We think this might be the Following’s endgame.”
Claire looked at the agent. “How did they get those powers, the cult leaders?”
Remington chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “If that witch is telling the truth, you’re not going to believe it.”
“Try me,” Claire answered.
Remington tapped the tablet. “From them.”
Claire’s eyes grew wide from shock. “We have to stop them.”
Remington nodded. “Yes. Yes, we do.”
Author Notes - Jace Mitchell
December 18, 2019
Thank you all for reading this one! It still means the world to me that people enjoy the words I put on paper.
I’m also extremely glad Michael quit snoring. We all say thank you!
Amy and I couldn’t agree more with Michael about this universe. Personally, I’d like to know what kind of myths the fans would like to see in the future. I would definitely love to write about the creatures you all want to see—your favorites. Feel free to drop me a line at: [email protected].
I love the LMBPN fan base and how they all interact with us authors. I know Michael does too since it helps us keep writing the words.
Claire’s story isn’t finished yet, obviously. I hope you’re ready for Book 4 because the stakes are rising for her and everyone else on Earth.
See you all in the next book!
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
December 19, 2019
Thank you for reading our stories. It allows us to continue bringing these images in our heads to you!
So, I just read Jace’s Author Notes, and I am left to wonder just WHAT the snoring issue is? For some reason (could be I have slept since we talked about snoring), I don’t remember anything about this particular issue, and I am going to claim it was all made up. Or that I’m tired and confused.
Or some such other excuse ;-)
If you get a chance, head on over to Amazon, pick out a book or two you like, and write a review. You will help that author (whoever it is) a little bit. Even if an author has a book with a few THOUSAND reviews, the fact a new review is up there HELPS.
New reviews matter, regardless of the number of reviews. ;-)
Have a fantastic End of the Year and a beautiful 2020.
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael Anderle
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Jace Mitchell
Jace Mitchell is an Amazon best-selling author of fantasy novels. He lives in Key West with his dog, and when he’s not writing, he’s enjoying a cigar and scotch.
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