The small group followed Felicia, trusting the wolf’s senses. Once she’d gauged that they’d drifted far enough aside, she began to cut a path back through the swaying grasslands. Ken didn’t speak, just kept an eye on the strangest, most terrifying procession he’d ever seen—the slow exodus of hell’s creatures.
Milo, the enormous vampire that never ranged far from Eliza’s side, stopped to consider the way ahead. Felicia, senses attuned, noticed and walked back to the group.
“Why have you stopped? This is not time for a break.”
Milo stared at her without emotion. “The dog leads us the right way, as far as I can tell. I see no other direction.”
Vampires, like lycans, had excellent vision.
Felicia blinked. “Dog?”
Eliza raised a hand in a placating gesture. “Please. He means nothing by it. Our worlds are poles apart, that is all.”
“You think you are princes and kings. Leaders of your generation. Whilst the rest of us are fit only to lope along in your shadow.” Felicia raised a hand to forestall Eliza’s protest. “No, no. I know it is true. You creatures have no idea that your own vanity will be your undoing. And that,” she turned away with a small grin, “is good enough.”
Ken stayed well out of it. The rivalry and bigotry that existed between supernatural races was not his to understand. He was a simple man. Put a physical goal in front of him and he would chase it down. Take Dementia for instance . . .
“Has anyone given any thought as to how we go between levels?” he asked. “Assuming we have to, I guess.”
Eliza looked like she was assessing him. “In vampire lore no one has ever returned from this place.”
Ken shifted. “Great.”
Felicia walked on ahead, leaving at least Ken wondering if there was something she hadn’t shared. The three vampires exchanged looks then followed. Ken brought up the rear, feeling very much like the odd man out. Man being the operative word. All these other beings were supernatural, straight out of folklore and myth. That said, he thought. I’m very happy they’re on our side.
The tall grasses helped conceal them, and the stiff wind blowing from their right carried their scents away from hell’s marching creatures. When the horde passed them, heading for the gate, Ken kept his head low and his fingers crossed. Fortunately, none of the creatures ranged too far; even the flying beasts stayed with the pack. Ken couldn’t make out too much detail through the grass, but he did see a dozen sights he wished instantly he could forget.
Unnamable things lurched and shambled at the head of the pack. Some pure white, some with shaggy brown fur and others with mottled bark-like skin, all with spikes running down the spines of their backs and horns sprouting from misshapen heads. Talons jutted from paws shaped like anvils, and teeth and fangs were so twisted they sometimes looped over each other. Behind them came huge beasts that shook the ground every time they stomped forward, roaring with fury as they were dive-bombed by the far more agile winged behemoths. More than one was plucked out of the air and torn apart by an eager mouth. Ken soon found he was unable to take in any more of the vision. A man’s eyes had never been meant to look upon the horrors that frequented the netherworld.
When the immediate dreadful procession had traipsed by, Felicia again started to move. Ken watched her blond head bob up and down as she tested the trail. This woman was phenomenal. He had once seen her transform from woman to wolf in mid-flight, ripping out the throat of an enemy as she pounced. If his life was in her hands, then it was as safe as it was ever going to be.
Felicia halted, swinging her head to the right. At the same time all three vampires cocked their own heads as if listening.
“Something’s coming,” Felicia hissed. “Stay down and get ready.”
The vampires crouched, arms stretched out with fingers flexing. Ken noticed fangs sliding from the sides of the mouths, passing over thin white lips. Felicia stooped down with them, no love lost but no risks taken by comrades in arms.
“It must be small,” Ken whispered. “I see—”
“Shhh,” Felicia purred. “Wait.”
A figure burst out of the surrounding grasses; legs pumping, jet-black hair streaming out in its wake. The person didn’t see them at first but then came to a terrified stop as all three vampires pounced.
“No!”
The shriek was loud, dangerously so, and belonged to a woman. All of a sudden Eliza was sitting astride a struggling pair of legs. Milo was kneeling beside her, staring with a bemused expression on his face.
“Is it human?”
Eliza sat back. “It smells human, but . . . but . . . there’s something else.” The powerful vampire looked uncertain.
Ken crawled over, peering around Milo’s mountainous shoulders. Yet another unreal sight greeted his eyes. What appeared to be a teenage girl was pinned beneath Eliza’s body, struggling madly, her face screwed up with hate and fear.
A terrified whisper spilled from her lips. “Not going back . . . not going back . . . not going back . . .”
“Stop,” Eliza said, holding her even tighter. “Stop fighting.”
Ken watched. The girl was lithe and had a fitness instructor’s trim muscles. Her legs were toned beneath black leggings, her face well-defined with not a hint of fat. His first thought was she keeps fit, then he berated himself. The poor thing was clearly terrified and of unknown age and origin. Eliza wasn’t helping with her angry face and jutting fangs. Milo wasn’t helping with his general meatiness. Felicia wasn’t interested, the girl-wolf was scanning the way ahead.
It was up to Ken to save the day.
He laid a tentative hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “Please.” he said. “Give her a chance.”
Eliza’s brows shot into the stratosphere. “She could give us away!”
“I think,” Ken crouched next to the girl, “I think she’s human.”
Her eyes opened, fixing on him. Dark, dark eyes. Blacker than the heart of a storm or the unplumbed depths of the ocean. Even so, something glittered inside them. Something . . . intelligent. Vast, he thought. But how? She’s just a girl. Her skin was a shade darker than white, her expression softening now from terror to wary curiosity. In another moment she had stopped her endless lament and regarded the crew with those infinite eyes.
“Who are you?” Ken asked. “Are you . . . human?”
The thought occurred to him that, despite his wild life, his crazy nights and days, this was one question he’d never had to ask before. At least, seriously.
The girl looked indignant. “Of course I’m human. Are you?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then let me up. I don’t know about you, but being trapped between a female vampire’s thighs is not my favorite place to be.”
Ken opened his mouth, then clamped it shut, hard. He struggled to quash the instant reply that jumped to his lips, he really did, but it was Eliza’s words that saved him some embarrassment.
“If you’re human what are you doing here? And you have an odd smell. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. Yet,” she added ominously.
The girl struggled briefly again, then gave it up as a bad job. “All right, all right. I was taken . . . from my family. And smell? I wouldn’t be so rude.”
Ken pursed his lips. The girl talked like an American, looked like an American, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t quite identify. The words and accent sounded as if they’d been carefully formed, as if she hadn’t had much chance to use them lately.
“When were you taken?”
The girl fell back to the earth and stared up at the red skies. “So long,” she said. “So long, I can’t even remember.”
Ken reached out to her. Eliza glared at him. He shrugged. “What the hell are you going to do? Eat her?”
“My name’s Lilith,” the girl said. “I’m from Miami, the Coconut Grove area. My mother was a personal trainer to the wealthy. My father—he left before I was born. I didn’t . . . don’t even know
him.”
Eliza studied her for another long moment before climbing off, leather suit creaking. Its shiny black surface reflected the red skies as she moved, painting her with a fitting blood-red aura. The girl, Lilith, sat up, stretching out her back.
“Geez,” she muttered. “That hurt.”
Ken stayed low. “Don’t sit up too far. There are a hundred things over there that would tear us apart. Problem is, they’re heading for Miami.”
“What did you think I was trying to hide from? I knew I was close to the surface, and then wham! This great procession hindered me.”
Felicia squatted next to them. “Hell’s Mardi Gras,” she said laconically. They’ve pretty much passed us. We need to move.”
Lilith blinked. “Move where? Which way are you going?”
“All the way down, babe,” Ken said, then blinked himself. “Sorry. We’re tracking someone and the fate of the world lies in our hands.”
Lilith sniggered.
Ken pouted. “Seriously.”
“But I just came from down there.” Lilith’s voice took on a whiny edge.
“Good,” Eliza said. “Then you can help us find our way.”
Milo grunted. “Yes. The dog needs some help.”
“Call me a dog one more time,” Felicia said, “and I will rip your fucking throat out and leave your twice-dead body to feed the worms.”
Milo’s chest expanded instantly. “Will you? Well . . .”
Eliza gripped his arm. Ken surprised himself by getting between them. “Stop it!” he said. “We’re all on the same team. We have the same cause and must start working together.”
Felicia defused the situation by turning away. Ken looked at the vampires. “We’re all they’ve got, guys.”
Eliza nodded. Slowly, the group started to walk again, the dark grasses swirling and swishing, caressed by the breeze around them. Lilith fell in next to Ken.
“Sheesh,” she said. “Tense crew.”
He nodded. “Would you believe Felicia is normally the most easy-going, free-living, bundle of fun on the planet?”
“Nope. Not really.”
“Well,” Ken said awkwardly. “She is. Normally.”
“Am I your prisoner?”
Ken had no idea. He didn’t even know who the hell was in charge of their little team of raiders. All he knew was they were attempting to track Dementia and find the two artefacts with nothing but Felicia’s highly tuned, sensitive skills, and the ancient astuteness of the vampires. A good combination for tracking, but a bad mix. He gestured toward the hellgate.
“Well, you can hardly go through there right now. And you’ll be safer with us. And, if you’re human, you could help with the tracking.”
“I don’t want to go all the way down there again.” Lilith shuddered. “There’s things . . . sights . . . you just shouldn’t see.”
Ken hefted his sword. “I’ve seen a few lately, believe me.”
“I’ll wait for you up here.”
Eliza turned then. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But we can’t allow that. I still don’t trust you—not completely—and we can’t leave a potential enemy at our backs.”
“Because of the way I smell?”
“Even the do— I mean Felicia, senses something off with you. Even he does.” Eliza flicked a glance at Ken.
The Californian blushed slightly. “Well I wouldn’t say it like that,” he blustered. “And my nose, whilst appealing, is not equipped with the tracking talents of a wolf or a vampire.” He quickly changed the subject. “Say, how old are you anyway?”
“Eighteen,” she said. “Recently.”
Felicia cast a sly glance back at him. “Too young for you, surfer boy.”
“No, she isn’t,” Ken said before thinking, engaging mouth before brain. “Of course, not that I would . . .” he tailed off feebly.
“Too young?” Lilith asked with open-faced innocence.
Ken took another look at her. He saw something more clearly now. Despite the deep, infinite pits of her eyes, and the wisdom and experience that gleamed out of them, Lilith was pure, fresh-faced virtuousness. Guiltless, blameless, she followed them now without anger or hatred, but with a kind of blind naiveté.
Lilith was an eighteen-year-old innocent, living in hell.
What the fuck?
Who is she? And who’s she running from?
He had the horrible impression that he wouldn’t be able to leave this place until he found out.
TWO
Felicia ranged ahead, leading them deeper into hell.
Eliza and the vampires talked amongst themselves, sometimes including Ken and Lilith, at other times ignoring their opinions completely. Ken began to see why these creatures had long been associated with Earth’s politicians and bankers. There was a remarkable resemblance.
“Our only way to stop Lucifer is to find the artefacts first,” Eliza was saying. “From what the witch, Cheyne, told us I gather that the hierarchy need all seven in order to summon the Devil to earth. And they don’t need all seven hierarchy demons to do the job, since one is already dead—”
As she said this, Felicia glanced back, perhaps reminding Milo that is was she who had slain the demon. To his credit, the big vampire gave her a nod of respect.
“Dementia cannot be allowed to live,” Ken said. “She’s the wild card. The Devil’s secret weapon, as Belinda was ours. I killed her once . . .”
Eliza swiped at the surrounding grasses. “Perhaps our resident expert can give us a geography lesson. Exactly what are we heading into, young one?”
Lilith perked up a little. “There are seven levels. Lower and lower they go, each one more disgusting than the last. On the lowest level is the Pit—the place where the worst things happen. And the place He calls home.”
“Lucifer?”
“I mean Samael. The demon that guarded me.”
“What’s he like?”
Lilith shuddered. “The worst of the worst. I can’t go back to him.”
“You won’t.” Eliza’s words were perfunctory, uncaring.
Ken leaned toward the girl. “You won’t,” he said. “I promise.”
“Ever hear of Dementia?” Mai asked. “Where she might live?”
“I’ve heard of her.” Lilith nodded. “They say she had a crazy brother—crazier than her—who was named Rapatutu. They reside in the seventh hell, though I do not know where.”
Ken shook his head. “The seventh? The lowest? Yeah, of course she does.” He sighed unhappily. “Sounds like we’ve got a long way to go, folks.”
“How do you . . .” Eliza paused, choosing her words. “. . . descend?”
Lilith was too innocent to ridicule the question with the obvious answer. Instead she said, “Down many stairs and through archways. A single, grand staircase drops through a central chamber, descending all the way down, but there are also several other ways carved into the rock faces. It is a . . .” she searched for the right description. “A mishmash. A jumble of soaring cliffs and secret passages and tunnels, most probably hewn out through the ages. Such a mix . . . it is easy to get lost. But it’s also easy to hide.”
“This Samael,” Ken said, thinking of this young girl running for her life down here, lost, alone, terrified. “Is he chasing you?”
Lilith nodded. “He will never stop. Even if I escape through the gate, he will never stop.”
“When,” Ken affirmed. “When you escape. And we will help you.”
“I trust you. I do.”
Ken knew that she meant it. He also knew that the burden fell to him. The vampires didn’t care for anything except their own kind, and material gain, and Felicia was too busy tracking Dementia and keeping them out of trouble. His previous flirtations with responsibility had been nothing like this—more like, you go grab the beers, dude, I’ll look after the boards. Or—yup, the backs of your thighs are bright red, babe. I’d be happy to rub in some Aloe Vera if you think you need it.
Times had changed.
Now, the sun-blasted Californian took a tighter grip on the hilt of his sword and ventured further into hell, an odd and fiery assortment of companions at his side, and thought about all the things he was fighting for—the Chosen, the Aegis group, the whole of California and America, Europe and even Canada. The rest of the world. The armed forces. All life.
Existence.
The sword trembled in his grip.
THREE
In the aftermath of battle, you’d have thought we’d loosen up a little, maybe take stock of the situation. You’d have thought our hearts and minds might settle somewhat with the diminished threat. Well, you’d have thought wrong. If anything, the urgency increased, and the peril magnified a hundred times.
Suddenly, instead of trying to defend our world against a planet destroyer, we were trying to save humanity from an eternity of hellborn slavery. The hierarchy had concealed their intent well, even from the great world-ender and his Destroyers—but now the cat was well and truly out, and humanity was scrambling to save the day.
I followed my friends and fellow survivors off the beach, leaving behind countless bodies of the dead. We took with us as many as we could carry, in particular Devon Summers—our healer—who had fallen in the last act. Poor Devon—she’d saved us all, many times, but we—the Chosen—had not been quite good enough to return the favor.
And me in particular, of course. The eternal doubter. The last man to find his power and the only one who’d doubted it would rise to the surface. Johnny Trevochet and I had been the phalanx of the attack, launching all our power at Gorgoth’s maw, bombarding the emerging God until he’d been driven back. Now all eyes were on the witch coven, their leader Cheyne and her bunch of cohorts, who appeared to have at least some knowledge of what was going to happen next.
I stayed close to my daughter, Lucy, another of the Chosen late to emerge, and watched her face, waiting for any sign of trauma setting in. Like all of us, she’d seen more than her fair share of slaughter today, experienced near-death situations and demonic hatred, and had still been fighting hard at the end. My admiration for her was only outweighed by my worry.
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