Blood Ties: A Grace Harper Novel

by J. T. Hardy

  The door opened.

  I sucked in a breath and turned back toward the cathedral. Please be holy ground by the time I get there.

  "Grace!" Zack called.

  Somebody up there did like us. "Is everyone safe?"

  He stepped aside and Anita came through the door, followed by Ivy, then Jerry and the kid. Zack was the last one in, shutting the door behind him. "Where's Kokabiel?"

  "Shaking off an exorcism with his pals, but he'll be back. This way."

  Cavanaugh was walking around the edges of the cathedral when I returned. He paused only to check that we were us and not the bad guys, then continued on. "This is Father Cavanaugh," I said, still finding that hard to believe. "He's with me."

  "Does that mean we're getting out of here?" Anita asked.

  "Working on that." I waved a hand at the pews. "Zack, a little help with the rear guard please?"

  He nodded, then picked up the pews like they were made of cardboard and piled them by the back door. I frowned. Yeah, those things wouldn't stop a healthy fangel one bit. At least they made Anita and the others feel better.

  "How we doing, Cavanaugh?"

  Still walking the perimeter, he held up one finger, his lips moving fast. "Done."

  "Did it--"

  Zack shrieked. Blue sparks raced along his skin. Oh crap! I dashed over and grabbed his hand. "Sorry about that!"

  Cavanaugh sank onto the altar's steps, his eyes wide as he stared at Zack. "Is he a--"

  "He's on our side. I guess it worked."

  More shrieks erupted from beyond the double doors, a mix of anger and pain. Ivy yelped and buried her head in Jerry's shoulder.

  "Hold it together, ma'am," Jerry said, disentangling himself. He scooted away and came over to me. "We're out. What you got in mind now?"

  "Not dying." My head spun, and the rest of me shook; I had far too much adrenaline racing through my system.

  "After that?"

  I had no idea. We were safe for a while from Kokabiel and crew, but the minions would be hammering on the doors before long. Zack could take them out if they got past the barricades, but if any of them had guns--I pictured Libby and my chest tightened even further--fangels were fast, but not Superman fast.

  "I..."

  Jerry nodded slowly and patted my shoulder. "That's what I was afraid of."

  Cavanaugh's consecration won us seventeen minutes of peace. After that, a full-on assault began on the cathedral. Kokabiel was a jerk, but he knew how to build himself some angel-proof doors. They held tight despite the banging and crashing against them.

  I sat between Zack and Cavanaugh, flinching with every strike on the door.

  "Think you can perform another holy light show?" I asked Cavanaugh.

  "No. It's a miracle I'm still conscious as it is." He kept the cross tight in his fist anyway.

  A much bigger bang shook the doors and cracks appeared in the frame.

  "That last one sounded a bit like a battering ram," Jerry said.

  "They have a battering ram?"

  He pursed his lips and nodded. "Could be a tree."

  Wil whimpered and pulled his knees tighter against his chest. "Should've stayed in the cage."

  "No," I said. "Even if they break those doors down, they can't send in more than we can handle." I glanced at Zack and he shrugged. How very reassuring.

  Anita licked her lips. "But how--"

  "Just trust me, okay?" She flinched away and I sighed. Great. Scare the kidnap victim.

  Another bash against the doors and they shook yet again. With a deep breath, Jerry got to his feet. "Next one ought to do it."

  "Stay behind the altar," I told the others. Anita pulled Wil over and they huddled together with Ivy. "You too," I said to Jerry.

  "Nah. I'm a mite curious about what's on the other side."

  On the next smash, the wood tore and the stone cracked open. Minions or fangels pushed on the doors and the pews scraped against the floor, but only left enough room for maybe one person to step through at a time. We could handle it if they came at us one at a time.

  Someone barked orders, and synchronized hits knocked the doors wider. Wood creaked and fangels groaned. Rocky and Rude Dude each grabbed a door and shoved, pushing them wide enough to walk through with ease. So much for our tiny advantage. Blue sparks and pale smoke danced across their arms.

  No humans. That was good, right?

  The others stepped back and Kokabiel appeared out of the dusty air, blue-white lightning sparking across his shoulders and down his arms. He looked very, very pissed.

  "Come here," he said to me.

  "Make me."

  A breath of air that smelled like flowers left too long in the vase hit me an instant before he did. Zack flew sideways as Kokabiel whisked me to the altar, slamming my back against the stone. I cried out, pain shooting through me. Zack echoed my cries. Everyone else dived out of the way.

  Except Cavanaugh.

  Shouting, he lunged at Kokabiel, Dad's cross thrust forward. Kokabiel spun and backhanded him, sending him soaring across the room and into a stone pillar. His body slumped to the floor, smearing blood along the rock.

  I clawed at Kokabiel's hand on my throat, skin against my skin. He scowled, but there were no sparks, no smoke as long as he had a hold on me. I pictured shredding him with my bare hands, pouring holy water into the wounds, crushing him under the biggest cross I could think of, but he shrugged it all off.

  "Such imagination, Hannah Grace."

  He dragged me closer to the table that held the golden tap and pitcher. My back spasmed, everything hurt, but none of it mattered. His eyes swirled in red fire and I doubted he gave a damn anymore about the proper way to drink me.

  "Wait! I wasn't blessed! You'll screw up the ritual!" I fought him, but it was like wrestling with one of those pillars.

  "I'll risk it."

  Grabbing my hair, he shoved me to me knees and yanked my head to the side. All-too-familiar images of women running, drowning, dying, filled me, the pain of betrayal, the ache of loss and longing of home, so much worse than anything I'd seen or felt before. I gasped, overwhelmed, crumbling under the weight of so much heartache.

  "Please--"

  He jabbed the tap into my neck.

  I screamed.

  Pain lanced through me, the prongs burning deep in my flesh where my shoulder curved into my neck. It hurt, holy hell did it ever. I twitched and trembled like a caught fish, resisting every instinct to jerk away and tear myself open. He might have missed the artery, but just barely.

  "Hold still, child," he said, tightening his grip on me. He grabbed the gold pitcher and held it under the spout of the blood tap.

  "Go to Hell."

  "Not anymore."

  "You're a lousy angel."

  He didn't answer, but his fingers dug into my shoulder. I willed myself to bleed slowly.

  Shouts rose outside the cathedral, muffled, but growing louder. Kokabiel cocked his head and looked warily at the door while my blood tap-tap-tapped into the pitcher.

  Still sparking, Zack slammed into Kokabiel, ripping him and the tap from my neck. I screamed as both fangels rolled down the steps of the altar. The cathedral spun and I fell forward, one hand pressed against my ragged skin.

  Don't pass out, don't pass out...

  Fangels shrieked high and loud. Anita and Ivy screamed. Wil sobbed and Jerry swore a litany that was almost a prayer itself.

  I'm not dying this way.

  Lightning crackled and hissed. I fought against the darkness swarming around me, damp and cold.

  "Grace!"

  I blinked. Libby?

  Kokabiel raged, screaming in pain and anger, but hope stopped my fall. I forced my eyes open. Libby stood in the shattered doorway, a giant Super Soaker in her arms.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Libby swung the Super Soaker toward an already smoking Kokabiel and opened fire. Holy water shot out, drenching him and his damn button-down shirt. Sparking, smoldering, a
nd screaming in a way that gave me warm fuzzies, the fangel blurred out the door.

  Libby ran to my side. Someone else took her spot guarding the shattered double doors--big man, bigger gun. Roberto.

  "You brought the Marines," I said, voice shaking. My shoulder throbbed like a 2 a.m. rave.

  "Shh, stay still. You're losing a lot of blood." She put the water gun down and pulled gauze from a medical pouch on her belt. Roberto covered us both.

  "You're not dead."

  She tapped her chest. "All hail the mighty Kevlar."

  "Look at you, soldier girl."

  "Don't get all delirious on me."

  Hard not to. Lights danced between the pillars, shapes in the rock dust floating on wind currents. People, maybe, or memories of the fangels Cavanaugh had somehow managed to shake loose during his exorcism.

  "Cavanaugh," I whispered.

  "Hang in there." She pressed a bandage against my neck and I sucked in a breath, fresh pain brightening an already too-bright room.

  "He's hurt."

  "So are you. Stay put, I'll go get him." She picked up the Super Soaker and rose, but three fangels appeared in the doorway.

  "Incoming!" Roberto yelled.

  Libby turned, sliding the water gun back up and taking aim in one smooth motion. She fired, and holy water arced across the room. The fangels retreated. Roberto switched to an actual gun and bullets flew.

  "I'll get Cavanaugh." I struggled to stand. "Go kick ass."

  "Hang on, you can barely walk." She rooted in the med pouch and pulled out a tube. "Brace yourself."

  Pressure and a sting in my leg. The adrenaline hit my blood and the world became brighter, faster, more there.

  "Whoa, better than espresso," I said, my head clearing.

  Libby helped me up. "You good?"

  "Yes."

  She hesitated, her gaze shifting over my shoulder. "Those the pantry folk?"

  I nodded. "Jerry'll probably fight if you give him a gun."

  "Works for me." She headed for the altar while I stumbled toward Cavanaugh. "You Jerry?" she asked. "Take this. Soak anything that tries to get through those doors."

  "Grace said it was gonna get weird."

  "You have no idea." They both joined Roberto on the front lines.

  I dropped to Cavanaugh's side and felt for a pulse. Thready and weak. Blood pooled on the floor under his head. Either would have been bad, but together? "Come on, Padre, we need you mobile."

  Still unresponsive.

  "I had such a good chewing out planned for you, Father Sneakypants. You owe me that." I ran my hands over his face and head, hoping I wouldn't find--

  My throat caught. A bit of clean fluid dripped from his nose. No, please, no. I lifted one eyelid, then the other. The left pupil was dilated, the other not.

  Nothing in Libby's first aid kit treated this level of brain trauma. He was dying, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  I bit my lip and swallowed the frustrated scream building in my throat. It wasn't fair. All he'd wanted was to help people, even when they were too stubborn to accept his help. He wouldn't have even been here if it wasn't for me.

  None of them would be. Libby and Roberto held the fangels at bay for now, but they'd run out of holy water eventually. Jerry was standing strong beside them, and even Anita had joined the fight, backing up Roberto's real bullets with the other Super Soaker.

  Zack was nowhere to be seen, but the rear door was open and the barricades pushed aside. Two had cracked and the third lay in pieces along the wall. He must have been in quite the hurry to get out of here. I'd no idea where Daniel was, and I'd probably never see my father again.

  We were all going to die under this stupid red rock.

  "It's going to be okay, Nate," I lied softly, taking Cavanaugh's hand. Smooth wood and warm metal pressed against my palm. Dad's cross. A single swipe of blood marred the amethyst at the center.

  I folded his fingers around it and held tight with both of mine. I'd never been one for prayers--all I knew was the Shema--but maybe the actual words didn't matter.

  Help him, please. He's a good man. He deserves a second chance.

  Something stirred in my chest, a ripple of sensation I couldn't name. It ran down my arms and pooled in my hands. They tingled on the edge of painful. Light blossomed, bursting from between our fingers bright and warm. It washed over him like sunlight across a smooth lake, motes of gold swirling and flickering along his skin--no, under his skin. He glowed from within, warm and peaceful.

  And then it vanished.

  He snorted awake, eyes bleary and unfocused, but his pupils were once again normal. "Urf?"

  Impossible.

  Just like everything else in my life. Relief burst from me, half sob, half laugh, and I kissed him full on the lips, clergy be damned. "You're...you're..." Alive? Back from certain death? I didn't even know where to begin.

  "What?"

  Fangels screamed and raged in the other room and some of his confusion faded. Fear took its place. He tried to sit up, but none of his limbs worked.

  "Take it easy," I said, steadying him before he hurt himself again. "Give yourself time to, um, adjust."

  A little time. The stream from Libby's Super Soaker looked thin, and I hadn't heard a gunshot in at least thirty or forty seconds.

  Wait...time. It hadn't stopped once, and if ever there was a good time to hit the pause button, it was now. Was it the consecrated ground? The holy water? Something was interfering with the fangels' special skills.

  It we survived this, I'd have a long talk with Daniel about that later.

  "Can you stand?" I asked Cavanaugh.

  He shrugged, but managed to get his arms working and pulled himself up to a sitting position. I helped him to his unsteady feet and put an arm around his waist. He stayed standing. Staccato taps of gunfire rose above the angry snarls of the Pretty Boys' and Kokabiel's fury.

  "I'm pretty sure all Hell's broken loose out there," I said, forcing a grin.

  "Not...funny," he rasped. He gave me a weird look, like he wasn't sure where he was or what was going on.

  Libby and Roberto had the Pretty Boys at bay, but she looked worried.

  Kokabiel bled green goo from multiple bullet holes. He stood in the hall, as close as he could get without getting in range of Libby's holy water.

  "Zack?" I yelled. No answer. Damn. "Everyone, gather up. Time to go."

  Ivy gaped at me from behind the altar for a few seconds, but she reached behind and grabbed Wil's hand. They darted over and met us behind Libby and Roberto.

  Fingers encircled my wrist. "I'm here," said Zack, his voice sounding strained. "I can steady him if you take my hand."

  "Deal."

  He took it, and then grabbed Cavanaugh in one arm.

  "What's the plan?" I asked Libby. Hopefully they had a way to get nine people past four pissed off fangels. Five if Suriel came back to play.

  "Get in, save you, get out again." She shrugged. "I wasn't planning on that tunnel entrance, so we had to improvise. Backup's waiting if we can get outside."

  Daniel? That would make it to two Pretty Boys against four. Still lousy odds, but Libby and Roberto had put a serious dent in their advantage. We'd held them off this long, so maybe we could push them back enough to get outside.

  I tightened my grip on Dad's cross and aimed it at Kokabiel. "Be gone, demon!"

  He glared at me.

  "Shoo!"

  He snarled and took a step closer, pushing the border of Cavanaugh's holy ground. Kokabiel was more beast than angel, and he didn't seem as interested in drinking my blood now as he was in shedding it.

  "Abracadabra!" I screamed, shoving the cross at him. "You pathetic babysitters, get the hell away from my friends!"

  The cross flared, not as bright as what Cavanaugh had summoned, but from Kokabiel's cries, still painful. The fangels dived for cover and their boss staggered a few steps back.

  "Advance!" Roberto yelled, taking the water gun from An
ita. He stayed at my side and we moved forward as a team, Zack and Cavanaugh an arm-length behind, Libby behind them, and the rest behind her.

  Rocky, Rude Dude, and the unnamed fangel had fled all the way to the door on the far end of the hall. Kokabiel stood at the halfway point, one hand raised, the promise of a slow, painful death on his perfect face. Suriel was nowhere in sight.

  "Move, move, move!" Roberto laid down suppressing water fire and we moved toward the entrance tunnel. If minions with guns were in there, we'd be trapped. If Suriel was in there, we'd be toast.

  I released Zack's hand once past the threshold of the cathedral, and reached for Cavanaugh's arm.

  He held up a hand and shook his head. "I'm good. I can walk."

  He shouldn't have even been breathing. I tightened my grip on the cross. Dad had a lot of explaining to do when we got home.

  "Stay close and keep moving," Libby said, dropping back to the rear. She covered us, leaving puddles of holy water in our wake. Zack grimaced, but he barely sizzled.

  We rounded the S-bend and twilight shadows cut across the wall. Roberto paused and I froze with him, the cross in front. He signaled and we stepped out into the open.

  What the?

  Dad stood in the back of an old pickup truck, holding the wand of an industrial-sized pressure cleaner. The engine drummed with a rhythmic tick-tick-tick, ready to fire. Daniel stood on the driver's side, the door open, the truck engine also running.

  "Y'all get into the truck," Dad called.

  Zack moved to the opposite side of the cave entrance. Cavanaugh and the others filed out and ran toward the truck, piling into the bed and dropping down.

  A snarl echoed from the cave.

  "Incoming!" Libby yelled, backing out at a jerky run. Her Super Soaker gave a final squirt, then died. "Light 'em up!" She dodged out of the way and Dad opened fire with the pressure cleaner. Rocky took a hit right to the face and screeched before he dived back inside.

  "Clear the cave," Daniel shouted, running forward.

  "The phrase is, "Fire in the hole," Libby said.

  Daniel yanked the pins out of two grenades and lobbed them into the tunnel entrance. The explosion wasn't nearly as loud as I'd expected, but the pissed-off shouts of the Pretty Boys made up for it. Rock crumbled and fell. Dust poofed in mini-mushroom clouds. It was a beautiful thing.