by S T Branton
My best friend smirked knowingly. “Oh, I’m so sure that’s the real reason. Although it is a valid concern.” Her smile faded. “I’m really happy that’s working out for you two. Deacon’s a great guy.”
“Yeah, you look super happy.” I sat down beside her. “What’s up?” She shrugged and a light clicked on in my head. “Hold on a second. This is about Brax, isn’t it?”
I could tell by the look on her face that I’d hit the nail on the head. She flushed pink all the way to her ears.
“I hate to break it to you,” I said and nudged her in the ribs. “But it’s fairly obvious.”
Jules groaned. “Okay, okay. Yes, it has something to do with him. And no, I didn’t expect things to turn out this way.” She paused. “It’s hard to admit now, but I was afraid of him at first. I thought there was no way he could ever get along with humans in a non-violent way.”
I arched my eyebrows. “To be honest, I doubt even he would blame you for thinking that. Hell, until recently, he probably would’ve agreed with you.”
She shrugged. “I know. Maybe I wanted to help him more than anything—at least in the beginning.” She twirled a lock of her golden hair around her fingers. “Now, we have such a strong connection. He told me about his past, and it helped me see him in a totally different light.” She looked at me with a mixture of worry and excitement in her eyes. “I’m…sort of falling for him.”
I chuckled. “That seems like an understatement.”
“He’s my type, too, which is strange to say out loud.” Her blush returned. “Rough around the edges but secretly soft-hearted. It’s like he’s from a romance novel. And I have to admit, I love it.”
“What kind of romance novels have you read?” I teased.
Jules winked. “The good kind.” She finally finished folding the sweatshirt and set it aside. “Anyway, now you know why I have to get out of here for a while. Not forever. I merely need to clear my head and get some distance so I can think about things rationally again.”
I put my arm around her shoulders. “I’ll let you come with us on one condition.”
“Name it,” she said quickly.
“You’ll not fight,” I told her. “You’re the brains of this operation. It’d be way too dangerous to throw you into combat this late in the game without serious training. Delano’s not like the chumps we fought in New York.”
Jules nodded. “Don’t worry, Vic. I’ll take care of myself and stay out of your way.”
“And you won’t fight.” I prodded her for verbal confirmation. Jules looked soft on the outside, but I knew better than anyone how tough she could be. I also knew that squaring up against a super god like Delano was not in her wheelhouse, regardless of how she felt about a certain demon.
She nodded again, more insistently this time. “Thank you for trusting me on this. I’ll be fine. I promise.” She gave me a squeeze, stood, and was out the door before I had the chance to say anything else. I stared after her.
Victoria, I fear a mistake has been made, Marcus said. I cringed. I had forgotten the old geezer was there. The battlefield is no place for a woman like that. She belongs—
“No way,” I interrupted. “Don’t start on where Jules belongs.” I grabbed my bag, glanced down at it, and unzipped it to check its contents one last time. “Sometimes, you say stuff like that and your age really shows, dude. You have to get with the progressive picture.” Satisfied with my loadout, I placed the bag by the door. “Besides, you never expected me to be this type of woman either.”
The difference is that I was able to train you first.
“And that’s why I told her she couldn’t fight.” I shrugged. “I’m not sure if she actually listened, but I meant what I said. I’m not above tackling her to the ground if I see her even try to pack heat.”
On the contrary, that seems a reasonable course of action for her to take. The middle of this country is cold at this time of year.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m beginning to think you’re doing this on purpose.”
Well, I am beginning to think that your trust in your friends may run too deep.
I stopped on my way into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of my own surprise in the tiny mirror. “Whoa,” I said. “Way to bring down the vibe, old man.”
He didn’t respond as I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and ran a comb through hair that had grown way too long. But his silence wasn’t empty. I could sense his need to speak his mind.
“Come on, Marcus,” I said finally. “Spill it. I have no choice but to listen to you anyway.”
You will be angry with me.
“I might,” I said. “But we’ll work it out. We’re both adults here.”
Very well. It is my belief that the man at the marble house was correct in his caution regarding certain members of our party.
“Feel free to explain,” I said evenly and stared hard at my reflection.
There is no denying that Delano’s strength has exceeded all previously known levels, as we have said multiple times. We know for certain that his behavior has escalated to the point where he now consumes gods entirely, and yet, there have apparently been no ill effects. Given these circumstances, it seems utterly foolish to assume that he would not be capable of controlling Frank and Maya at a moment’s notice. They may be strong, but they cannot compare with entities over which Delano has already asserted his dominance.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself not to be annoyed. This was merely typical Marcus logic as usual. “Maya was able to break away from Lupres,” I said. “Frank defied Delano’s orders once. He can do it again.”
Lupres cannot compare. Nor can any previous form that Delano has taken. He has transcended all boundaries. The rules by which we once were guided have lost their relevance.
I closed my eyes and soaked his words in. They made me uncomfortable. “Speaking of which, let’s talk strategy,” I said briskly and snapped my eyes open. “You have advice for everything, and I’m asking for it. Tell me what my expectations should be.”
This kind of thing was what Marcus was best at, and I wanted to steer him away from the doom and gloom. We needed to come at this from an optimistic place.
My plan didn’t work.
I do not know. I have been around for thousands of years. I have watched civilizations grow and die. I assumed I had seen everything and that nothing new remained. I was wrong.
“What’s the prognosis, Doc?” I asked. “Give it to me straight. I can handle it.”
The chances of victory are slim. At best.
A knock at the door punctuated his last sentence. I stepped out of the bathroom and answered it, if only to grant myself a distraction. Deacon stood in the hall and his expression sobered as soon as he saw me.
“What’s with the face?” he asked. “We haven’t even left yet.”
I stood aside so he could enter the room. “Oh, you know. Marcus was telling me how screwed we are.”
That is not an entirely accurate translation.
“Since when have you ever listened to him?” Deacon reached out and grabbed me gently by the waist. “Come on. If anyone’s got this, it’s you.”
I smiled and leaned into his chest. “That’s true. I’ve lived on shitty odds ever since I asked Tommy Reynolds to the Sadie Hawkins Dance in high school.”
Deacon snorted. “What did he say?”
I laughed. “He said no.”
He kissed me on the forehead. “When this is all over, I’ll find Tommy Reynolds and tell him he’s a damn fool.”
Chapter Nine
The driver’s seat of the sturdy old truck had begun to feel like a second home. I stared out at yet another empty stretch of highway as we headed west on Interstate 76. Instead of Frank, I’d opted for Deacon as my copilot, and so far, we had focused mostly on what flashed by outside the windows.
Aside from our brief touchdown mid-flight to Washington, this was our first real foray into the interior of the country. My hands on the w
heel were a little tense, and I swiveled my head constantly in response to the tension I felt.
So far, the signs hadn’t been very promising. The ongoing war had left its mark everywhere, even on the road. We skirted huge craters, downed trees, and piles of burned-out cars that stretched for miles. Once the forests gave way to farm country, blood was visible, splashed all across the barren, snowy fields. There were occasional bodies, too, most of them frozen like grotesque mannequins.
Deacon scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s been months, but sometimes, it still hits me real hard that this is the world now.” We passed a spray of abandoned belongings scattered in a ditch off the shoulder. The blank eyes of a dirty stuffed animal watched us pass. “Shit like that makes me wonder if we’ll ever see normal again.”
“I think we’ll get there,” I said. “It won’t be easy. And it probably won’t look the way it did before, but that’s fine. Marcus has seen a hundred different versions of normal over the course of his existence. If things go our way, he’ll see hundreds more.”
“That’s a decent outlook,” he conceded. “It doesn’t really do much for us in the here and now, though.” He gazed out the window at the devastated landscape. The exposed joists of a huge, ruined barn protruded into the sky. “I like to think there’ll be a place and time for us to settle down.”
I nodded. “There will be. I can’t tell you that we’ll have the neat little suburban house with the picket fence and the tree in the backyard, but we’ll have something. And that it will be enough.”
He squeezed my hand. “The thought of you in the suburbs is terrifying. Curlers in your hair, driving a minivan…no thanks.”
I grinned at him. “I figured that’s what you would envision, Mr. Hopeless Romantic.”
“I’m romantic,” Deacon said. “I’m not delusional.”
“Good to know.” I took my left hand off the wheel and waggled my fingers at him. “You’ll still get me some ice, though, right? I mean, someone ought to try to make an honest woman out of me.”
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Did you just say ‘ice?’ Maybe you’re more suburban than I thought.”
I laughed. “Would you prefer I say ‘bling?’”
He made a face. “Ugh, no. Christ, did you get your slang from Marcus?”
“No,” I said. “Why?”
Deacon smiled and shook his head. “Because it’s as ancient as fuck.”
Three hours into the drive, my eye caught sight of a distinctive black column of smoke that rose ahead of us and off to the right. Large, birdlike shapes circled high above it and dove in and out of the plume.
“I don’t like that,” I muttered.
“We should check it out.”
I radioed our intentions to the vehicle behind us and took the next exit off the interstate, which appeared to lead directly toward the base of the swirling smoke. As we cruised down the ramp, the flying shapes came into better focus and I realized they weren’t birds at all. They were harpies.
“Shit, we have a situation here,” I said. Immediately beyond the ramp, the streets were clogged with cars. Many of them were scorched and charred as usual, but a fair number were also crushed—from the top, not the front or back. Most of their windows had been blown out, and safety glass glittered over the streets.
I swerved and weaved through the mechanical carnage as we followed the signs to the outskirts of a small town—population just over a thousand. On the main street, the vehicles had been shoved unceremoniously to the side and formed a barrier of tires and smashed metal. The source of the black smoke we’d seen from the highway turned out to be buildings, including the town hall and the post office. Harpy screeches rattled the truck’s windows.
“Holy shit.” Deacon sat up abruptly and focused on something that lumbered from the wreckage of a residential building straight ahead. “Look at that big motherfucker.”
The creature straightened and shook debris from its shoulders. Rough, leathery skin stretched over heavy muscles. The long blade of a mean-looking machete glinted in its left hand and a misshapen club dangled from its right.
“Marcus and I saw a guy like that, way back when,” I said. “But he was simply fat. This one looks like he’s lived off protein shakes and steroids.” The ogre hefted its club across its massive shoulders and provided me a daunting display of biceps that were bigger than my head. “This will be a fun little side trip.” I pressed the button on my radio. “Hey, guys. When we stop, get out and fight. We can’t leave this place without clearing it.”
“Roger,” Maya answered. “Man, these things are ugly.”
We noticed more of them as we drove a little farther. They appeared to hunt through the structures that were left and literally broke through walls with their weapons and fists. One of them yanked a struggling human from a second-story window.
“Hell no!” I declared and accelerated sharply. “Who the fuck is running this shit show? He’s about to have some special guests.”
The main street led to a square near the center of the town. Obviously, it had been well maintained at one time, but it was in complete shambles now. The cobblestones were crushed and trodden in, which rendered the area little more than a broken, unstable pit. In the middle of this mess stood a super-ogre, two or three times the size of the others, naked to the waist, and enormously muscular. He wore a giant smile on his ugly face as he surveyed his new, wrecked dominion.
I parked the truck at the edge of the crumbling road. Into the radio, I said, “Time to crash this wild party.” After a deep breath, I opened my door and jumped out.
The sound of the truck doors slamming shut drew the large ogre’s attention. His toothy smile only intensified at our approach. He released a great, belched laugh. “Who is this?” he bellowed and squinted his bloodshot eyes. “Humans too stupid to run? Surely you don’t think you can stop me.” We moved steadily forward and picked our way cautiously over the ground. The giant threw his head back and laughed again. “Your idiotic courage is entertaining. Never mind that I could crush each of you like gnats beneath my thumb.”
I broke from the group and strode forward to crane my neck so I could look all the way up into his face. “Consider this an eviction notice,” I told him. “One way or another, you’ll leave today.”
“Stronger warriors than you have tried to move me without success.” His foul breath washed over me with every word but I stood my ground and held his gaze. “They learned quickly that I am indomitable!” He swept his hands out to encompass the square. “This is only the beginning for me. For you, it is the end.”
I swung the Gladius Solis into view. “I beg to differ.”
As soon as he felt the wash of heat from the sword’s burning blade, the mega-ogre stepped back. His eyes bulged in their sockets, fixed intently on the weapon in my hands. “It’s you,” he said, his tone no longer grandiose. He’d rapidly become fearful and I swore I saw his hands shake. His club clattered to the ground. “The god-killer. I thought he was lying. I thought the others were cowards to run.”
He took another step back.
“Sorry, pal,” I said and adjusted my grip on the hilt. “I’m as real as it gets.”
He threw a panicked glance over each shoulder. “Kill her!” he bellowed but his voice cracked. “Destroy the sword bearer. Now!”
Every one of his henchmen turned toward me and my comparatively tiny crew. Harpies screamed from above with claws outstretched. Maya turned faster than I’d ever seen her do it and snatched one of them out of the air to rip its wing off. The disembodied appendage was comprised of skin instead of feathers, stretched over the wing like a bat’s. The Were tossed the dead harpy aside, and I noticed its body was male. Things had changed, indeed.
I turned back to the ogre god and raised my sword, only to find that he’d already bolted across the square. His heavy footfalls kicked up thick clouds of dust to mingle with the smoke. I pulled my jacket over my face and gave chase as best I could, but the small frie
s bogged me down. They formed a close circle around me and their eyes gleamed with malice.
“Don’t worry, boys,” I told them. “I’ll save a dance for every one of you.” The sword sizzled every time it burned through their hide. The dark, sludgy blood that spilled from the wounds smelled like a sewer. Ogre limbs rained down around me. These guys were easy, and they were simply a waste of time. I wanted their leader.
I sliced one monster cleanly in half, broke out of the circle, and raced in the direction in which I’d last seen the ogre god. A shadow fell over me and the scream of an incoming harpy tortured my ears. I readied the sword in my right hand, ready to slash backward. The sharp retort of a pistol cut the scream off and the harpy dropped to the ground at my heels.
Steph yelled, “Now you’re simply showing off, St. Clare!”
I couldn’t help but smile, even though I’d lost track of my quarry. The smog was too thick to see very far, and all the shrieks had made me practically deaf. I slowed, turned, and headed back toward the others. The ogre meant nothing, but I still felt the sting of disappointment in my chest. It would have been so satisfying to see that hideous head roll off into the fields.
Steph met me in the square with one foot planted atop a recently fallen foe. She took aim at a harpy and picked it out of the sky as I approached. We both tracked its descent onto the curb twenty feet away.
“Nice shot,” I said.
“Tell that to Deacon,” she responded with a grin. “It’ll hurt more if it comes from you.” She rested a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, don’t stress about losing that pile of walking bullshit, all right? I’ve fought evil in one form or another all my life. You can’t win ʼem all exactly the way you want to. And sometimes, it turns out to be better that way.”
“Yeah.” We headed back to the vehicles together and left a trail of Forgotten corpses behind us. Maya and Frank were already there and Deacon followed close behind. I paused at the truck door and looked over the roof toward the west. “It’s a good thing there’s only one fight I need to win now.”
