Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3)

by Aaron Babbitt

  “If you ever get tired of old Garrett, here,” Gregor told him, “you can come work with me. I can teach you how to be sneaky.”

  “You were not tracking me,” Garrett repeated, “certainly not for days. You may have been following us for an hour, but I think no more than that. And I knew you were nearby when the demons approached. I thought the encounter would be good practice for you.”

  Gregor looked back to Dylan and winked. “You know I need all the practice I can get.”

  “I do,” the Hunter General agreed.

  “Except for finding you,” Gregor continued. “I’m good at that.”

  Garrett sighed. “Since we have been here, I have teleported Dylan and myself nine times just to keep anything off our trail. I have frequently left behind decoys.”

  “Decoys?” Dylan asked, not remembering anything of the sort.

  Garrett waved his hand, and there was a very lifelike replica of himself. It was sitting just like he was. When Garrett waved his hand, the duplicate waved his hand.

  “It’s completely insubstantial,” Garrett said, as the lips of the decoy moved. “It does whatever I will it to do. I make a decoy and teleport or become invisible. Then, those who would follow me continue to chase my decoy until they realize they’ve been duped, and by that point I’m somewhere completely different. I often use decoys to lure ambitious demons or scare wary demons into traps.”

  “C’mon, Garrett,” Gregor protested, “you don’t think I’d get fooled by a decoy, do you?”

  The decoy disappeared, and Garrett cocked an eyebrow. “I stay close to Kingstone to mask our presence with those of the prophets. And we haven’t been here for longer than a day and a half. If you’d been following us for two days or more, you would know where we were before that.”

  Gregor studied the two of them for a moment before answering, “India?”

  Nodding, Garrett agreed sarcastically, “Close. Brazil.”

  “That’s what I said,” Gregor replied, “Brazil.”

  “Anyway, I’m glad you could make it,” Garrett told him. “Lucifer is very close, and it’s summoning other demons to Kingstone. Patheus has forces within Kansas City. Dylan suggested that we help the prophets in hopes that they will help us against Lucifer.”

  Gregor rolled his eyes. “He wasn’t the first to suggest that.”

  Garrett cleared his throat before continuing, “Yes, well, I thought we could form hunting parties with the prophets to patrol the outskirts of the town.”

  “Sounds like fun. When do you anticipate other demon hunters arriving?”

  “Soon, I hope. Otherwise, there won’t be much for them to do.”

  Chapter 2

  In a way, I think Lucifer planned for the Battle of Kingstone to transpire exactly as it did; of course we couldn’t see the plan. We were scared of him, so we welcomed the demon hunters without ever taking the time to analyze the literal Devil in the details. In hindsight, it becomes evident that he lured the demon hunters to Kingstone so that he could murder them individually, while the prophets and Metatron effectively thinned each other’s ranks, eliminating future resistance on all fronts.

  --Abigail Martin, Through the Eyes of a Martyr

  Matt, Liz, and Alex stood before Angel Arena, one of Jeremiah’s many investments throughout his long stint in Vegas. Angel Technologies bought out two casinos and leveled them, just so Jeremiah could add that land to his own in the building of the monumental stadium. It served little purpose other than housing concerts and convocations. Jeremiah had even pondered the possibility of sponsoring a professional sport in Las Vegas himself, but that never seemed a very lucrative enterprise.

  Of course, the weapon-designing department of Angel Technologies used the arena several times a year to host a spectacular gun show. The event always served as the best possible means of showing off the hottest new merchandise. Twice, scopes that Elizabeth designed went into full-scale production as a result of these shows. People from all over the country, including military representatives, came every year to see what Angel Technologies was up to.

  Tonight, though, the stadium served a grander purpose. Tonight, it hosted Nisus. Las Vegas police swarmed the area, herding people this way and that. Security was using metal detectors and patting patrons down. People were everywhere. The throng, slightly resembling a column hoping to be a line, was a sea of dark colors that stretched for a quarter of a mile, and it was still early.

  Vans advertising for local radio stations were parked along the street, like predators herding a flock of sheep. Interviews were taking place with those fans who could spare a moment to have their voices on the radio. Some people milled around in groups, smoking cigarettes before going inside. Ironic as it might seem, Angel Arena, owned by Jeremiah, was officially smoke-free. There were people standing around, obviously waiting for someone. And despite the half-hearted efforts of the police, scalpers and beggars abounded.

  The mounting excitement was palpable. The setting sun and dropping temperatures added to the anticipation. Now, not only did that arena contain Nisus, it was also heated. There was almost a calm about the masses as they moved toward the entrance of Angel Arena. It was a calm that hid turmoil beneath, a demeanor that did not betray the torrent of emotions bottled within this crowd of mostly youth. They were driven by a message: Nisus’s message. For one night, these people could funnel their angst, frustration, and stress into something positive.

  As the prophets flowed with the mass of fans toward the entrance to the arena, Alex was suddenly aware of the magnitude of what was taking place around him. This crowd, the band’s incredible publicity, the number of records they consistently sold: These were proof of Nisus’s amazing power, empirical evidence that the band was effectual.

  Alex had nothing like this. A few people knew who he was, but Nisus had a following—and these were just the fans in Vegas. The people here already worshiped Lonny like a god. They hung on every word he uttered, whether it was sung or spoken. They quoted him; they had posters of him; they owned every CD his voice was heard on. Alex knew because he was just such a fan.

  “Here; this is yours,” Matt said, pushing something into Alex’s hand, then doing the same for Elizabeth.

  Alex looked down at a plastic badge with a string attached to hang it from his neck.

  “Backstage passes?” Liz asked in surprise.

  “Not only that. Those are VIP passes. Jeremiah said that if we showed those around, we’d get special treatment. The vendors will give us free stuff, and charge anything else we want to an account. And naturally, they’ll get us backstage. Put it on, and make sure everyone sees it.”

  Alex couldn’t help himself. Even though they had spoken to the band already today, Alex’s skin prickled in excitement. “That’s beautiful, Matt. How did you get them?”

  Matt shot a look of surprise at him. “Alex, we know the guy that owns this place.”

  “Oh, right.”

  They were approaching the gates. Men and women were being split up so each could be patted down by their respective gender. When Matt’s turn came, he flashed his badge at the guard, who nodded his head and let him through. Alex did the same and followed Matt. Liz joined them a few minutes later.

  Matt checked his watch. “All right, we have twenty minutes before the show starts. We can look around at the booths if you want, but don’t buy much unless you plan to carry it around with you all night. I’m sure all these people will be selling the same stuff after the show’s over. If there’s something you just can’t live without, get a bag for it. You don’t want beer or something else to get spilled on it.”

  Liz reached into her pocket and pulled out a ticket stub. She studied it carefully, then noted, “There’s some band I’ve never heard of opening for Nisus: Blackmarket Blue Light Special.’”

  She looked at Alex and Matt, and they merely shrugged their shoulders.

  “Who knows?” Alex replied. “Nisus is notorious for picking up small-time bands tha
t no one’s ever heard of and putting them on stage with them. Sometimes it helps the little bands; sometimes it doesn’t. It never hurts though.”

  “You follow Nisus closely, don’t you?” Matt observed.

  “You could say that. They’re definitely my favorite band. The first CD I ever bought was one of theirs. I’ve been to three concerts. My room in my parents’ house has Nisus posters all over it. I get an email newsletter every week to keep informed about what they’re doing.”

  Matt clapped his hands together. “Well, if you all want any drinks or anything, this might be the best time to get them. The sooner we get to the floor, the closer we can get to the stage.”

  “If we’re going to be on the floor, isn’t there a pretty good chance we’ll get separated?” Liz asked.

  “It’s bound to happen unless you two are really good at holding onto each other and we plan to take bathroom breaks together,” Matt agreed. Then, he pointed to a wall next to them that contained an entrance into the floor. It had E-1 pained in green on it. “See this? At the end of the concert, we’ll meet up here if we don’t see each other before that. I’ll try to check this entrance every once in a while to make sure neither of you need me for anything. I probably won’t hear anything if you call my cell, but I’ll check it periodically as well. And I recommend the two of you do the same. We could send text messages if something important comes up while the bands are playing. I don’t think any of us is going to have any trouble, but if either of you do, send me a message; I’ll come as fast as I can.”

  “So is there any point in even trying to stay together?” Alex asked.

  “It’ll be hard to stay real close, but don’t wander too far away either. I hear the two of you are bad about that.”

  Alex blushed and looked away. Elizabeth held Matt’s stare.

  “Matt,” she said, “I’ll have you know that Alex and I can wander away if we want to.”

  “I was joking,” he replied sternly. “But if we’re being serious about this, as the person in charge of protecting you, I would highly advise against doing something crazy, like sneaking off for little escapades after Alex and Jeremiah have told us that there are demons here in Vegas. Actually, they’re probably waiting for us to do something that monumentally stupid.”

  Liz had a look of repulsed disbelief. “Of course we wouldn’t do that, Matt. Have either of us ever given you reason to believe we’ve lost our minds?”

  “No. I didn’t really think you would do something like that. I just...I don’t know....”

  “You think we’re going to leave you out,” Alex supplied. “I’ve been getting that from you since she and I started hanging out more.”

  Matt looked at Alex, surprised by how petty his fears seemed when laid out in the open. He felt hopeless and vulnerable under the scrutiny of his friends’ eyes. He didn’t want them to know how needy and unsure he was, but it must have already seemed all too obvious to them.

  “Are you?”

  “Are we going to leave you out?” Alex finished for him. “Matt, I’ve already told you how much I need you. Why can’t you accept that? What can I say that will make you believe I’ll always need you? It’s almost like you want to be alone, so you can justify what you think, and what you must believe everyone else thinks, Matthew Hartley is.

  “As far as I’m concerned, I want the three of us to fight side-by-side forever. Jeremiah told me we had to work together, and I understand that so much better now. In one month, with the two of you as my closest friends, I have grown more than I could have ever imagined. I’ve witnessed things that I believed were only legends. And I can’t see any of us defeating those legends alone.”

  “And I can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t involve you,” Elizabeth added with a huff. “How much have we been through? You’re my best friend. I couldn’t get anywhere without you. Do you think I can protect myself?”

  “I don’t know,” Matt answered. “Your aim is getting pretty good.”

  “Seriously, Matt, you are every bit as important to the end goal as I am,” continued Alex. “Liz and I can’t pull this off without you. Just like you and I can’t make it work without her. We’re a team and always will be.

  “Anyway, we’re not here to strategize. We came to see a show.”

  “I agree,” Matt said.

  The three prophets nodded and walked into the tunnel leading to the ground floor.

  ***

  The chief called Sara a little more than an hour ago to inform her that a young man had been found unconscious in a car with a vial of some green substance in his hand. It fit the description of the drug that had been described to her. She immediately went to where the kid’s car was found. His trail was recent enough that she had no trouble tracking it back to his house, and then to someone else’s house about two miles away. Here the trail doubled up and went back the way it had come. So he must have gone to this house from his house, and then returned, before going to park his car and get high. She could question the kid later. The person he visited before using this interesting new drug was far more important at the moment.

  She drove her car around the block and pulled out her cell phone. Thinking most of her prophet contacts unequipped to handle a potential drug bust, Sara called the prophet hotline.

  “Uh, hello?” a deep male voice on the other end answered uncertainly after four rings.

  “Is Matt there?”

  “No, he isn’t. Is this Sara?”

  “Yeah.”

  “My name is Salmar Bargotha; we’ve met. How may I be of service?”

  “I may have traced the drug Alex was looking for to a dealer. I can go in alone to investigate, but I think I’d feel better if someone went with me.”

  “I agree. What is your address?”

  Sara looked at the street signs. “Have someone meet me at the corner of Liberty Road and Main Street. Whoever it is needs to look inconspicuous and may have to pose as a federal agent.”

  “Understood. Someone will be at that address soon.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Good bye.”

  Ten minutes later, a car slowed to a stop in front of the intersection. A man in a trench coat stepped out and started walking toward her. The car drove away. Sara could feel that this person was a prophet. After several visits to their compound, Sara had become accustomed to a particular feeling she got when prophets were around. The man walked to the passenger-side door, opened it, and sat down next to her. She recognized him immediately.

  “John.”

  “I am,” he agreed. “Need help?”

  She reached down to start the car. “Wow. I had no idea they’d send you.”

  “Is it a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it depends on whether the person I’m going to talk to watches the news.”

  “Want me to wait in the car?”

  Sara shook her head. “That seems like a waste of your abilities.”

  “Indeed. There were three other guys in the car that dropped me off. I brought them with me to act like agents if I needed them to. Should I text them to meet us there?”

  “Not yet. I need to determine who I’m dealing with first.”

  “What do you plan to tell whoever greets you at the door?”

  “All I know,” she explained, “is that a kid who was under the influence of this drug came here before driving a few miles away, parking next to Kingstone Lake, and passing out. The only vial of this drug anyone could find was in his hand. I think it’s possible that the person I’ll talk to is the kid’s drug dealer.

  “In any case, I’m going to tell whoever it is that I’m concerned about Chris. I’ll say that I know he was supposed to get something from someone in this neighborhood, but he never came back. I’m getting worried, and I wonder if they know anything. That way, if the person at the door is just a friend, I find out pretty quickly. If the person is a dealer, maybe he’ll let something slip.”

  “I doubt a drug d
ealer would have much sympathy for a missing client,” John noted blandly. “If this person is the drug dealer, signal me. I’ll get the information you’re looking for—provided I’m not stepping on your toes or anything.”

  “No, I’d accept any help you can give me.”

  The car pulled to a slow stop in front of the house.

  “Do you have a card?” John asked.

  “A what?”

  “A business card. It doesn’t have to be your own.”

  “I suppose.”

  John nodded. “If you believe you’ve found the drug dealer, pull a business card out of your wallet, and hand it to the person you’re talking to. I’ll take it from there.”

  “I don’t want anyone killed.”

  “Of course,” John agreed. “I don’t plan to hurt anybody. I will defend us though.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Sara replied emphatically.

  “Leave the car running,” John advised. “The last time I had to deal with this drug, I met Lucifer. I don’t think he’s here, but we should be prepared to get out in a hurry if he is. Ready?”

  “To impersonate a federal agent impersonating a concerned citizen, confront a suspected drug dealer alone, and potentially encounter the Devil? No, I don’t think I am.”

  “I won’t be far away. If it looks like something is going down, I can be next to your side in a moment. And, if I have to be there that quickly, I’ll probably need to whisk the two of us away shortly thereafter. Otherwise, if you wish me to stay in the car, I can be pretty effective at a distance too.”

  “And if someone recognizes you?” Sara inquired.

  “At the point I have to join you, the person recognizing me isn’t going to matter.”

  “True,” she agreed and opened her door. “Well, here I go.”

  Sara got out of her car, closing the door softly behind her. She walked past two rather drab houses, and at the third she stopped. This was where the trail doubled up. She strode right up to the front door.

  John was watching in awe from his seat in her car. She was brave, but this could have been a very bad decision. He kicked himself for even letting her go alone, and then reminded himself that this was her mission, not his.