The Chosen Trilogy Boxset

by David Leadbeater

  The young girl had exhausted herself. But she had given them a chance.

  Lysette crawled forward, Ceriden, Cleaver, Ethan and a hundred Ubers alongside her. The colossal serpent faded again, becoming transparent, then solidified once more. All the while it shrieked and writhed, venting its anger upon the clear silver night and the churning, sodden ground.

  Lysette held up a hand. “Wait. Just wait.”

  The demon’s aspect glimmered and wavered, becoming ghostly. As they watched, the outline disappeared to be replaced with the body of a man; a half-naked man wearing torn robes and a large crucifix, hair shorn to bristle, and carrying a gem-studded cross of gold.

  The man cried out as he dropped the cross and fell to his knees.

  “Abaddon’s artefact!” Ceriden roared. “Move your bony arses!”

  A swarm of bodies broke cover, all bellowing in rage, seeking revenge for their brethren and a fight for their king. Abaddon instantly transformed again, from the robed man to a man-sized clawed beast with horns and wings. Even that image flickered slightly.

  “I will see you all again when Earth joins the Pit of Night. You will bow to me and die for me ten thousand times over.”

  “No conjuring’s gonna happen,” Cleaver mocked. “Without all seven artefacts, man.”

  “You cannot hope to keep the artefacts from us.” Abaddon whispered. “They are us.”

  With a look of resignation and regret that was instantly covered by a snarl, the demon escaped into the skies, quickly becoming a speck.

  Silence fell across Vienna Zoo. It was then that all the survivors realized they still lived, that Abaddon was defeated, and that they’d secured a precious artefact.

  Lysette ran back to Lucy. “You did it. We did it. We got one!”

  Still recovering, Lucy turned happily to Ethan.

  NINETEEN

  Back at the castle, Lysette found that Strahovski had organized a dawn celebration. By all normal rules, values and acceptable practices, a rising dawn was the night creature’s signal to retire, but today was a day of days. They had defeated a hierarchy demon. Strahovski, at least, thought a party was in order.

  Lysette entered a blacked-out ballroom, shaking her head at the sumptuous feast that had been laid out. A rich-man’s buffet topped and tailed by slowly turning spits stuffed with dripping meat.

  Ceriden spoke in Lysette’s ear. “Any occasion. Any chance he gets, Strahovski will try to outdo Milo, my chef. This is all for show, my dear, all for show.”

  “Shouldn’t we be getting back to Florida?”

  Ceriden crinkled his face. “Not necessarily, no. We still have a few hierarchy demons unaccounted for. Baal and Belial at least. They could turn up anywhere. Europe is a far more likely place than Disneyland, I’m afraid.”

  “What happens now then?”

  “Now?” Ceriden studied the steaming offerings along the enormous table. “We take a night—or day—off. I just hope Strahovski’s invited a few celebs.”

  Lysette watched the vampire walk away. Such an odd fish, she thought. Could they afford to take a day off? The library was still working out all the details. The Text of Seven was still being analyzed. Mysteries were still being unearthed. In real-time this was all playing out way too fast for the good guys. What they needed was a luxury the modern world no longer controlled—time. These days normal people found it hard to find a few spare minutes, let alone entire days.

  She drifted over to a champagne table, trying out the different types. Her days in Monaco had put her in good stead for a bash such as this. That Lysette would have mingled, read some minds, and picked a target whilst being graciously courted and fawned over. The new woman was torn between wanting to find some real friends among her new teammates and remaining aloof to decide who their enemies were. In addition to all that, she missed Giles. Their parting couldn’t have come at a worse time. The couple were just starting to bond, to become comfortable in each other’s company, and now they were relative strangers again. Text messages and e-mail would never replace real human interaction, no matter how hard the media and communication companies tried.

  Lysette drank some more, then drifted over to another table. Here they were mixing cocktails. A Dark and Stormy caught her eye: a mix of ginger beer and black Goslings. When it crossed her lips, she sighed happily. The nectar was divine, a gift of the gods. She took it away and headed for the food.

  She saw Cleaver, already being hit on by a blond vamp wearing a floor-length white dress. She didn’t blame the girl. That Cleaver was a catch, a notch on the bedpost and no mistake. She saw Ceriden talking animatedly with an older vampire that she assumed was Strahovski. Europe’s king looked a little like Anthony Hopkins to be honest, but the nice version of the actor not the brain-eating one. And like Ceriden he possessed a disarming demeanor, an air no doubt essential for the aspiring vampire.

  Further on, Lysette saw Jade. The elf had positioned herself in a far corner and stared frostily at anyone who approached. Her one concession to the party was the plate of food at her side. Lysette thought she might be allowed into the elf’s circle of one and this was the only person in the room that she’d like to be with. She threaded a path in her direction, sipping the Dark and Stormy as she went. A nice, happy buzz had formed at the back of her head, easing away the tension. Even the ever-present chatter of people’s inner thoughts receded to a dull drone. Maybe alcohol was the answer.

  Maybe not.

  She approached Jade, smiling, and then stopped. Quickly, she scanned the room again. Where was . . . ?

  Shit!

  Lucy was absent and so was Ethan. Pure panic surged through Lysette and the drink slipped from between her fingers.

  Jade was instantly at her side. “What is it?”

  “Lucy,” Lysette croaked. “Oh no. No. No.”

  “What?”

  “I think she’s in trouble.”

  They ran for the exit, not caring who saw. Ceriden’s voice floated after them but they ignored him. Lysette raced along the paneled corridors, going by memory. With every step she berated herself, criticized every move she had made. Lucy had been weakened, already vulnerable, even more so after the battle. Add to that the euphoria of victory and the party atmosphere of the castle. Any sixteen-year-old girl would be impressionable. But this was way past that.

  A door opened ahead. Ethan walked out, laughing. Lucy clung to him, and at first Lysette thought she was still exhausted. Or drunk.

  Her arms were draped around his neck, holding fast as she gazed up at him in delight. Her legs dragged along the floor. Ethan hauled her weight, speaking softly.

  Lysette found her voice. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Ethan’s head spun rapidly. “Oh shit, I—”

  Then Lucy turned and Lysette saw her face, her lips.

  Covered in blood. Fresh blood. Was it her own? Or Ethan’s? A shocking memory hit her—of Lucy covered in blood once before when the Destroyer had made her cut herself.

  And hadn’t Logan said she’d done the same to herself even before that?

  “Lucy?” Lysette hesitated.

  The girl laughed. “I’m so happy. At last, I’m happy.”

  Lysette pulled at Lucy’s arms, taking her away from the boy. Ethan stepped back.

  “What have you done?” Lysette all but screamed. “What have you done?”

  Lucy found some strength and stepped back from Lysette, toward Ethan.

  “I’m happy.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  Ethan then found his voice. “Lucy has become a Shade. A thrall. She is protected now. Part of our family. Our love will never die.”

  Lysette’s stomach churned.

  Lucy fell back into Ethan’s embrace. “I let him drink me. And I will do it again. Now, I am part of a family. Now, I will never be left alone again. This is my life, my future. Accept it.”

  Lysette didn’t know that her knees had buckled under her until she hit the floor.

&nbs
p; TWENTY

  Ken knew that every step they took brought them closer to the first circle of hell, the Pit. It was there that the worst fiends to ever exist dwelled in all their fiendish depravity, and where Dementia and her crazy brother awaited, and where the very worst king of demons, Lucifer, lived.

  No longer a terrifying legend. No longer a horror story. The Devil was coming back, and planning to make Earth his bitch.

  Ken sought out Felicia, tired of hearing Eliza quiz Lilith as to her origins. The demon Samael was a strong opponent, but Ken refused to be overawed. The odds were stacked against them, but he’d faced worse. Admittedly that was mostly in ‘Frisco’s pick-up bars on a Friday night, but it was the only experience he had to go on.

  “You okay?” he asked the wolf.

  Felicia sniffed the air. “For now, we are. We’re fine. Why?”

  “No. Are you okay? You?”

  “Ha. Oh, Ken, just because we boned doesn’t mean you have to show me affection. It will never work between us. I’d rip you to shreds in the end.”

  Ken first saw that as a challenge, but then a new, emerging, man took over and spoke for him. “You don’t have to be alone. We could . . . you know . . . look after each other.”

  Where the hell did that come from? He clammed up fast before he said anything he might regret.

  But Felicia was eyeing him as more than just a previously boned meal. This was curiosity. Even attentiveness.

  “You getting soft on me, Ken Hamilton?”

  He didn’t know. All these feelings . . . these caring, affectionate responsible emotions were as far removed from his normal behavior as black was to white these days. But . . .

  What the hell, he thought. Go for it.

  “I like you. Is that a crime?”

  “Might be.” Felicia shrugged amiably. “Depends what the governments come up with regarding Uber-Human relations.”

  Ken had to admit that was a possibility. Imagine their offspring—a surfing, pot-smoking, werewolf.

  “I could think of worse matchups.”

  “Oh yeah.” Felicia cast a disgusted glance at the vampire brethren. “Those guys and their shades.”

  Lilith made her way to them. “Can you sense a change coming?”

  Felicia squinted and tested the air. “I can smell . . . water? Is that right? A large body of water.”

  “You’re kidding,” Ken said. “All that crap about Charon, the ferryman of Hades who carries the souls of the dead across the Styx and Acheron rivers is true?.”

  Felicia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. Where did you learn that? Not at school, I’m betting.”

  Ken shrugged. “Chris De Burgh. Don’t Pay The Ferryman and Spanish Train. Maybe we could challenge your old Devil to a game of chess.”

  Lilith pointed ahead. “Over that rise lie the rivers. I do not know their names. They run down from the hills and join to form a great lake. Once over the lake we will find the entrance to the first circle of hell.”

  “And this ferryman.” Eliza had been listening. “Does he require some form of payment?”

  Lilith blanched a little. “Unfortunately, yes. Murder.”

  Ken lost some color of his own. “What?”

  “Only if he sees you commit murder or even fouler deeds, does he allow you to cross. After all, the first hell is not a place for good people, my friends. To get in or out you have to commit sins that put people there in the first place.”

  “Can we slip across unnoticed?”

  “No. Charon guides the only boat.”

  “So we have a big problem.” Ken said as the continued to walk. “We have nobody to murder.”

  Milo smirked nastily at him. “There is always the weakest link.”

  “Well, that would be you, fat boy.”

  “Be careful with your tongue, human.”

  “Or what? You’ll eat me?” Ken immediately regretted his choice of words. The vampire was ferocious enough and looked hungry and large enough to do just that.

  Milo showed his fangs. Eliza cowed him with a glance. “Stop your nonsense. Act like the supreme being you’re supposed to be and not like a ludicrous human.”

  Ken grinned at the abruptly leashed vampire and made a whipping motion. Milo’s expression changed from one of anger to one of condescension, as if now aloof from such trivial concerns.

  Felicia regained their attention. “Ken has a point though. How are we going to fool this Charon?”

  “We won’t have to,” Lilith said. “The shores of this River Styx and the River Acheron are piled high with the dead, most of whom have been murdered. We merely each place a coin in one corpse’s mouth as is custom and present that body to Charon. Then we accompany it across.”

  “Then the debt is paid,” Ken mused. “Where do the bodies come from?”

  “They are the souls of the dead. Condemned to dwell in the first circle of hell.”

  “Lawyers,” Ken said with a grin. “Bankers. Dirty cops. People that hurt kids.”

  “No,” Lilith grated. “They have their own pit of fire reserved right under the Devil’s throne. Literally, in the bowels of hell.”

  Ken grimaced. “So Lucifer at least does something right.”

  “There is no place for anyone who would abuse the weak. Not even in the first circle of hell.”

  “Again,” Eliza breathed. “I would ask how you come to know this.”

  “Been here a while,” Lilith said breezily. “Know a lot.”

  They climbed the sharp rise, slowing as they neared the top. As he walked, Ken heard a peculiar sound. It was the wailing of someone in pain, a man trapped in a dark well knowing he would never get out, a woman lost in the crawling dark. It was the sound of uninhibited wretchedness. The wail intensified as they reached the peak, splitting as though it came from a hundred thousand throats.

  Ken crept over the top. “Shit,” he said. “This is the spookiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Felicia crawled to his side. “Huh. You’ve clearly never been to a Next sale.”

  “A what?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Ken studied the spectacle laid out before him. An inky black lake filled the horizon, fed by two sludgy rivers that flowed along deep jagged, troughs which looked like they’d been cut with bone saws. There were no waves, no obvious flow to the waters, but a murky rise and fall crept over the beach like blood leaking from a dying man. But that wasn’t the worst of it, not by a long shot. Even the vampires gasped.

  Bodies were piled in slovenly disarray across the beach, reaching up into the foothills. They lay sprawled, slumped and stretched, one across the other until Ken couldn’t tell which torso or which limb belonged to which. There seemed to be no clear path between them, and the stench that rose stung the back of his throat like acid.

  “Oh God,” he said. “Oh my God.”

  Lilith had waited at the back, not wishing to see the beach again, and now he knew why. He turned to her.

  “You’ve crossed this already? How?”

  The young girl shook her head. “Seriously, I don’t know. Desperation.”

  “It’s . . . atrocious.”

  “This is the true pathway to hell. All the rest is wreckage. Junk. The waste of conquered worlds. The first circle is the true hell, where all the bad things live. You think you’ve done well so far? You’ve not even begun.”

  Ken caught her vibe and agreed. The prospect of walking through hell had not been a pleasant one, but the actual act had so far been relatively painless. Yes, they had lost one of their party, they had been attacked by demonic foliage and some kind of fiendish Bruce Lee, but he had imagined worse.

  Again, he eyed the bodies.

  “We’re going nowhere,” he said. “Until we cross that lake. You guys ready?”

  Even the vampires eyed him with distaste.

  *

  Ken led the way down the high hills, picking his way with care. At this point it didn’t matter who saw them. The scene had been hard eno
ugh to take in, but now a great wooden ship had arrived, seemingly constructed from jagged beams and black ichor. It was four stories high, and impossibly clumsy on the water. Its sides jutted every which way, giving it the appearance of a spiny dinosaur. There were no windows, no decks, just the structure itself and a curved, pointed bow. At the head of the bow a figurehead protruded—the carven face of Lucifer. At the tip of every rotten-looking timber sat a human head, eyes flicking from side to side in fear. Thousands of them covered the ship. As it drifted in and came to a stop, a gangplank extended, striking the beach with a thud. The first beings to walk off were the desolate ones, shambling things wrapped in robes, staring at the ground and crying out with every step they took.

  “Nails in their feet,” Lilith confided. “Doomed to wander forever.”

  “Crap, I didn’t need to know that.”

  Next off was a variety of terrors. Demons, flying devils. Imps and sprites. Unnamable creatures that lurched on many legs, their teeth-heavy mandibles snapping at the air. White hairless shapes that somehow managed to ooze forward, tentacles waving and suckers gaping. For a few moments the beach was full, busy, then the various creatures began to disperse.

  Lilith held them back. “Wait.”

  Eliza frowned. “But shouldn’t we—”

  A great gong sounded, and Lilith started forward at pace. As they rose many other creatures came into view. They’d been hiding and were now hurrying to the beach and the great ship. As Ken found a path that led between bodies, he turned cautiously to Lilith.