I squeezed my eyes shut, battling the memories away. I sat up in bed and gazed down at Belinda. She was a vision, a well-turned corner, a light in the dark. In sleep, her face smoothed out and took on an innocent, sheltered look that I guessed not many people had ever seen. A curl of blonde hair had fallen across her brow. I reached out to tuck it away, making her stir gently, and a faint smile turned up the corners of her mouth.
I slid out of bed, wrapped a dressing gown around me and walked over to the window. The night outside was windswept and violent and black. I glanced back towards the bed, seeing the alternative.
I heard noises in the corridor outside my room. A footfall. A whisper.
I paused for a second to cover Belinda’s naked form with the duvet, then cracked open the door and peered through the gap.
“I want it!” Hushed, furious tones. A girl’s tones.
Lucy.
My heartbeat suddenly tripled. I stepped out into the hallway. Three doors down stood Lucy, clad in her nightie, facing an open door. Her hair was wild and her face was scrunched up with anger. Her body language was confrontational.
“No,” I heard Ceriden’s squeaky voice say. “The answer is no, my dear. Or rather – not yet.”
“The answer to what?” I asked, my voice cutting through the atmosphere of tension and anger that filled the corridor.
Lucy jumped and turned towards me. Someone stepped out of the room and, surprisingly, it was not Ceriden, but a black-haired, blue-eyed woman with a lithe body and the most striking way of staring at you that I’d ever seen. One look and I couldn’t look away.
“Hello,” she said. “I am Eliza. I have just arrived.”
Eliza was steel and silk, leather and lace. She was all things sweet and all things wicked and every temptation under the sun. But for us, I sensed, for the people of Aegis, she was a welcome light in the dark.
I struggled to find my voice. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” Lucy said quickly. “Absolutely nothing.”
I walked forward. “I said- what the hell is going on here?”
Eliza came out into the corridor to face me. Her black bodysuit absorbed all the light in the corridor and gleamed like polished obsidian. She said, “Your daughter needs you, Mr. Logan. That is all. You would do well to focus on that.”
“What do you mean? What have you bastards been doing with her?”
Eliza appeared to come to a decision. She walked towards me, blocking my view of Lucy. This woman’s presence, right next to me, inspired a sense of awe. It also blunted my anger. I noticed her full lips were redder than they should be, probably coated with a sheen of fresh blood. She moved until our bodies touched, and her lips were right next to my ear.
She murmured, “Lucy came to us tonight. She wants the life of a Shade. She begged us, Logan. But, for you, we refused. You have only one chance left now. Don’t fail her again.”
My stomach turned to acid. I locked eyes with my daughter as Eliza turned away and walked back into Ceriden’s room, closing the door. Lucy stared at me, haunted, lost, alone.
What could I do? I was a man who had lost everything.
“Lucy?” I said, and my daughter crumbled, collapsing in a heap right there in the corridor, not reaching for me but hugging herself, curling up fetus-like, almost as if she was trying to disappear by sinking right through the floorboards.
“Lucy?”
My daughter looked up at me through tumbles of dark hair, her eyes glistening. “It’s her, dad. It’s mum. I can’t let her go. The only way I can make her go away is to become something else. A Shade. They don’t feel. What did I do to make her leave us? What?”
Tears rolled down my face as I sprinted to her side. I put my forehead against her own, staring straight into her haunted eyes.
My mouth opened but nothing came out. What could I say that hadn’t been said already?
44
MIAMI, US.A.
The one and only meeting of Gorgoth’s Destroyers took place in Coconut Grove, in an old gargoyle-encrusted building that used to be a bank but was now a shiny Starbucks. Loki ordered muffins and Caramel Macchiato’s all round. They could have been five ordinary friends gathered for a weekly natter at the coffee shop. All they needed, Loki reflected, was the arrival of Jennifer Anniston.
That would give him ultimate proof that there was a God. Didn’t happen, of course.
Whatever, he thought. That was a great American word wasn’t it?
I killed your mom last night. Whatever…I fucked your wife, your sister, your secretary, and your dog…whateverrrr…
We’re gonna end the world tomorrow…whatever, man, whatever…
Loki studied his companions. Ashka, with her hard European features and startlingly red eyes. Earlier, a Barista had sauntered over, wiping his hands on his fetching green pinny and asked her to put out her cigarette. Ashka had leaned back and smiled. The Barista’s eyes had bugged, and then he’d gone down fast, banging his head on the table as he went.
“Whatever,” Ashka said as his colleagues dragged him away. “Must have really hurt his head.” Her smile was like deep, biting winter.
Jondal was virtually a skeleton covered in thin, almost translucent, flesh. Loki thought he appeared on the verge of croaking, and watched him closely just in case. Though entertaining, Jondal’s expiration now would hurt their cause. Mena Gaines, on the other hand, was a fighter, and looked the part. Everything about her caused a stir in Loki’s blood – from the way she sipped her drink to the way she studied him with unabashed confidence.
An hour wasted with Mena, he thought, would not be wasted at all.
Finally, his gaze lit upon Emily Crowe, the rockstar.
“Everything ready?” Loki sipped his drink.
“Buckets filled with blood,” Gaines flicked her tongue across her lower lip in search of caramel left there by her drink. “Tarpaulins filled with freshly severed human limbs. Burning pikes topped with heads. It’s all in place. They have no idea that the mall is nothing but a diversion.”
“The authorities have not interfered?” Loki pressed.
“Recent losses were not acceptable, it seems. These last few days they have withdrawn further.” Gaines shrugged.
“The world has been informed of Ubers,” Jondal hissed. Even his voice sounded fragile. “Miami is on alert. Army, Navy, Air Force, Special Forces. They’re all here.”
“Good,” Loki clacked his teeth together. “They’ll make a fine feast for our Master.”
“His first beach barbecue,” Gaines grinned.
“Doom of the world,” Jondal whispered.
“Miami Beach then,” Loki said, mainly for Jondal’s benefit. “Opposite the Shore Club, at dusk tomorrow. We will teach this sorry world the meaning of misery.”
He looked at the three women.
“Right,” he said. “I’ve reserved a hotel room for us.”
45
MIAMI, U.S.A
Kinkade was an eager sixth attendant at the Destroyers’ meeting. The conversation he overheard, the final revelations of Loki’s plan, would give us the thinnest of edges. It also concluded his part in proceedings.
Cheyne relayed a transcript of the meeting and Kinkade’s final message via Wi-Fi.
One day after the saving of the world, I will claim my reward.
Cheyne looked up at us all, her crooked witch’s nose twitching. “Well, at least he’s confident.”
I was standing close to her. I cleared my throat. “Do we know the Gargoyles …umm…final decision?” Lucy had commanded me to ask.
Cheyne’s mouth quirked up in half a smile. “Was it ever in any doubt?”
Ceriden, to my left, said, “Has to be Nicole.”
“I’ll tell you after we win.”
A few hours ago, we had landed at Miami International, then taken over a hotel on South Beach. Ceriden had arranged it, evicting staff and guests alike, using his lofty connections and his inexhaustible wad of greenbacks.<
br />
Now, we were gathered together in the hotel’s biggest conference room. How many did we number? I don’t know. But count everyone from York- and I mean everyone, even Ceriden‘s Head Chef, the hulking vampire called Milo- Eliza and the dozen or so clans under her control; Felicia and maybe thirty Lycan packs; Marian Cleaver – the man I’d heard so much about and who Lysette mischievously nicknamed ‘OMFG’ much to Giles’ chagrin – leading members of SWAT, the FBI, and other acronyms I didn’t even recognize, police chiefs from all over Florida, army personnel, marine commanders, navy SEALS, air-force fly-boys, a bevy of Witches, more Elves than anyone had ever seen together in one place, and the vampires?- well, let’s just say the cold emanating from their collective bodies was enough to air-condition the entire room.
To my annoyance I hadn’t had time to talk to Belinda or Lucy since we left York. There had been a glorious waking moment when Belinda lay beside me, her golden body painted by a stroke of dawn, and then a few more glorious minutes in the shower, but since then she had kept herself aloof, always involved in something. I remembered how she didn’t want anyone to cry or care for her. I guessed this was how she kept herself focused.
And Lucy tolerated me, for now. I was still seeking inspiration.
On a raised dais, before us were Giles, Ceriden, Eldritch, and several official-looking humans. Cheyne sat among them, tapping away at her laptop, relaying proceedings to the Library of Aegis and passing replies on.
Surprisingly, or perhaps commendably, there wasn’t a hint of skepticism in the room.
I noted other recognizable faces scattered about the room. Mai stood close to Eliza, the two conversing quietly. Jade sat in one of the few seats, her green-tipped hair marking her amongst the crowd. Cheyne’s personal witch coven filed in at one point, and found a spot behind her, their metal talismans gleaming around their necks. They didn’t remove their deep, black hoods though. I felt uncomfortable; it was as if they were watching me, these faceless, nameless beings of great power. Maybe Cheyne was using them to intimidate the armed forces and senators present.
Over the course of a few hours two separate groups were assigned: one for the beach defence and one to assault the mall. Names were named. Some of the people I cared about were with me, others were not. It made my heart sink. Reality dug in hard. Training was over. The endgame had arrived, and not everyone was going to make it.
I squeezed Lucy’s hand. “Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll stick together.”
Her vague smile made me understand the hopelessness of my words. I was the supposed vanguard. How could I keep an eye on my daughter and save the world?
“I’m not a kid,” I heard, but the traditional refrain was weak, and lacked her usual gusto. There wasn’t even an old man to top it off and when I turned, I saw the sadness in her eyes.
“My mother’s a bitch,” she spat the last word out.
And suddenly, in that crowd of hundreds, it was just the two of us.
Lucy’s lips trembled.
I laughed. “Oh, yeah,” I drawled. “What a bitch!”
“Bitch of the century!” Lucy choked back a laugh, or a sob.
“Miss Bitch, USA!” I laughed out loud.
“Uber Bitch!” Lucy cracked and laughed and wiped away tears. “The Vampire Bitch From Hell!”
I hugged her and winced over her shoulder at Eliza. “No offence intended.”
I framed my daughter’s head with both my hands and smiled into her stormy eyes.
“After tomorrow,” I said. “We start again.” And I meant it with every single ounce of will left in my body.
“Yes,” she replied.
Ignoring the world-shaping events occurring around us I closed my eyes and hugged my daughter. Sometime later I looked up. People were filing out, chatting, and forming rows in the aisles. I saw Tanya Jordan standing patiently to Lucy’s left.
“Hi,” I smiled.
“Hey,” her American drawl was somehow comforting. I liked this woman. She had that lived-in look, enhanced by her glorious blonde hair with its streaks of grey that she never tried to hide, and by the crows-feet around her eyes that crinkled when she smiled. When you saw Tanya Jordan, your day got better.
“I’m part of the beach-crew too,” she smiled. “Whaddya say we stick together, we three? Hmm? And when you’re needed,” she winked at me. “I’ll take care of the munchkin here.”
Lucy gazed at her happily. So did I.
“Munchkin?” Lucy said, after a minute.
46
NEW BABYLON, U.S.A .- THE MALL
Marian Cleaver returned to Coconut Grove just after sunset. He had never seen the streets of Miami so deserted. The evening skies hung heavy and low, brooding, pregnant with the promise of disaster. Cleaver found it ironic that the human trash who spent their worthless existence buying the streets one life at a time had already blown town, leaving their so-called territories in the hands of the law officers they despised. The Haitian gangbangers, the Columbian drug runners, where were they now? Why weren’t they standing side-by-side with the cops, determined to defend Miami?
Not likely, Cleaver thought. They’d probably slithered away along the gutters like the pieces of shit they were. He stared out the window as the mall came into view, his vision crisscrossed by fire and shadow. Dark palm trees swayed in a stifling breeze. When Cleaver exited the car, his nostrils caught the stench of burning. The mall was still ablaze, its façade a fiery spectacle.
The command post was buzzing when he got there. No helicopters, because of the missile threat. Cleaver paused on the sidewalk as Cheyne and Ceriden walked by, then followed Felicia. Now there was one wolf he would like to get howling. Cleaver blinked when a guy who looked like a Californian surfer blocked his path.
“Cleaver, right?” the man held out a hand, and pumped wildly when Cleaver took it. “Or maybe Cleave? I’m Ken Hamilton. Good to meet you, man.”
“Ah. You’re one of the Eight? Surfer Boy, I presume.”
“I guess you’ve been talking to Lysette.”
“She's an engaging woman. It appears that you’re the only one of the chosen sent to the mall.”
“Yeah,” Ken said. “Surfer Boy is expendable, it seems.”
Cleaver hadn’t agreed with the separation of forces either. “I guess they know what they’re doing.”
“Aegis?” Ken looked incredulous. “Been living with them for over a week, dude. They haven’t got a clue.”
“Let’s not cast aspersions, Ken.”
“Who’s casting? The only reason Giles can find his own ass is because he keeps landing on it.”
“That’s good to know,” Cleaver turned as the noise level ramped up a notch. “Looks like they’re ready at the operations centre.”
Ken also turned, his blonde locks flying, and faced the mall. “Time to start the assault.”
Cleaver walked over to Cheyne, who was conversing with members of her coven in the parking lot. It was the first time Cleaver had seen them without their cloaks. Witchcraft, he decided, agreed with the fairer sex. Save the odd crooked nose there wasn’t an ogre among them.
“What do you want me to do, Cheyne?”
Cheyne gave him a wanton smile. He noticed how her nose stayed pointing towards the mall when she turned. “Aside from the obvious?” she said after a moment of eye contact. “Kill anything that moves.”
“Are you’re sure this preplanned chaos isn’t just a diversion?”
“My amulet is tingling, Cleaver. What do you think that means?”
Cleaver shrugged. “You’re attracted to me?”
“My amulet. I said my amulet,” Cheyne looked around at members of her coven “I did say my amulet, didn’t I?”
“Something’s in there,” a blonde spoke up in an English accent. “Something we don’t know anything about. I sense an ancient and powerful invocation has already begun.”
“Invocation?” Ken gasped. “Why would they do that if it’s all a diversion?”
“A
uthenticity, I guess” Cleaver glanced at him then said: “Cheyne, are there any innocent people inside?” He couldn’t let it go unasked.
“None,” Cheyne gestured to her coven. “In our casting we saw that the mall is infested with evil.”
“And we’re the Raid!” Ken slapped Cleaver on the back. “Hey, dude, you ready to go save the world?”
Cleaver threaded through more Kevlar-clad police and SWAT guys than he could count. They stood in rows, in ranks. Not a man among them knew what to expect. Did it provoke their quaking fear, or hone it to a keener edge? Cleaver moved through them with Ken at his back. Most of these men knew him; some had traded sweat and blood with him at the gym. Some remembered his past and gave him dead eyes.
It was Miami. It was home. This was how it always was.
He stopped next to the bubbly lycan, Felicia. She’d told him earlier how she’d consistently fought his cause back in stuffy old York, and that she wanted to strip naked and rub herself all over him like he was her favourite tree.
First things first, he’d told her.
“You ready?” he bent down to whisper in her ear.
Felicia turned those big blue saucer-eyes on him. “My kind is always ready,” she said. “We are hunters. It is worrying, though-” she trailed off.
“Not knowing how our friends are faring at the beach?”
Felicia nodded and repeated “My friends,” as if she clung to the word like a treasured locket.
“So we focus,” Cleaver thought about the gym, the training, the protracted hour before you climbed into that ring. “Compartmentalize it. Because there’s nothing you can do to change it.”
Beside them, Ken was almost hopping with impatience. He drew two short, hardwood staffs from inside his coat, letting them hang at his side as he limbered up. Weapons, Jade and he had decided, were the icing on the cake of his special talent.
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