Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3)

by Aaron Babbitt

  Abbie smiled. “Of course.”

  His hand came up to brush her face. It was scarred and burned from before she had even met him. She didn’t recoil. Rather, she closed her eyes and awaited his touch.

  “I never stopped loving you,” he confessed, touching her cheek lightly. “And my world is and has always been a better place because you are in it.”

  A tear rolled down Abbie’s cheek, and Raul gently wiped it away with his thumb.

  “Please don’t leave me again,” Abbie whispered desperately, her eyes still closed.

  “I would gladly take you with me if you would come,” he offered.

  Her eyes opened, and she stared into his underneath the hood that veiled most of his face in darkness. She knew what he was doing, and he’d made his point clearly. Of course he couldn’t come with her any more than she could join him. They both had hundreds, or even thousands, of people to look after, to lead, to protect. She nodded and looked away.

  “Point taken,” she said, defeated.

  He lifted her chin so she was once more looking him in the eye. “One day,” he promised, “we will stand side-by-side again...I promise. It just can’t be today.”

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately. “I’ll hold you to that,” she said with a smile as she turned away from him to help her people.

  Chapter 4

  I never told the children how much Jeremiah’s death affected me. Jeremiah personally saw to the torture and death of many of my closest friends. For a thousand years, Jeremiah’s name, even more than Metatron’s, was the most feared demon name among prophets who knew what to be scared of. And, up until very recently, I would have been very pleased to know that he had died. Now, I only feel guilty. I hated him for so long, and then, after a revelatory moment, he became a hero to prophets everywhere, arguably the single-most important figure of the war, aside from Alex. I feel guilty for my hatred, but I also feel guilty for ever befriending him and mourning the loss of a being that had been so despicable to some of my loved ones. I suppose, without even meaning to, Jeremiah torments me still.

  --Abigail Martin, Through the Eyes of a Martyr

  Alex, Elizabeth, and Matt were all ecstatic as they pulled up to the safe house. They were laughing and talking about the concert when Matt turned the engine, and therefore music, off, and they all turned to look at the group of prophets who seemed to be waiting for them. They looked jittery, anxious—except for two: Sophie and Nathan.

  Matt opened the door and held the seat forward for Elizabeth to get out, never taking his questioning eyes off of the silent group of Elder Prophets, who had, apparently been joined by demon hunters because he saw Garrett, Dylan, and...

  He looked again to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

  “Gregor!” he called. “You’re here.”

  Gregor bowed slightly. “I am. It’s good to see that you are safe and well, Matthew.”

  Elizabeth, who was now getting out of the cramped back seat she should have never agreed to ride in, looked at him quizzically. “Matt, who is--”

  “Before you came to the mansion,” Matt interrupted her, “Jeremiah brought in a ‘specialist’ to train me in martial combat. He said Gregor was ‘the best.’ I didn’t find out until a while later that I was being educated by a demon hunter. After about a year, Gregor was summoned to continue his work protecting San Francisco.”

  Garrett stepped forward to take command of the conversation. “There will be time for reminiscing later. I have some unfortunate news for the three of you.”

  “He’s dead,” Alex said as he felt his heart drop.

  Garrett looked at Alex for a moment before replying, “Yes. The demon, Jeremiah, is most probably dead. Abigail called to inform us that the compound had fallen under attack, and, before the prophets got away, they saw a massive explosion that almost certainly killed everything in the area. I went to investigate and found nothing but rubble and death. There was no living demon, prophet, or mortal for miles.”

  Alex looked up with hope. “But you didn’t find him?”

  “Almost everything was ash,” Garrett continued, shaking his head. “The mansion had been blown down to its foundation. Everything was still burning when I got there. I have no doubt that Jeremiah found its end in Las Vegas.”

  “But Abbie, Nagina, and most of the prophets escaped safely,” Sophie added cheerfully. “We didn’t lose that much.”

  Alex shot her an angry glare before remembering how Jeremiah had affected her. “I regret that you didn’t know the same Jeremiah I knew.”

  “Strategically, the demon was important,” Garrett agreed. “However, it was just a demon, and now its role has been fulfilled.”

  “His,” Matt corrected, shocking himself with the bitterness he felt welling up in him. “Jeremiah was more than just a demon. And we don’t know he didn’t get away.”

  As Garrett and Sophie were both about to jump on the bash-Jeremiah bandwagon, Alex interjected, “No, Matt. I don’t think Jeremiah ever planned to leave there. He accomplished exactly what he set out to.”

  He closed his eyes, and everyone patiently waited for him to continue. “Metatron isn’t dead, but he is very badly wounded. In fact, it feels like he’s running for his life even now. He’s weak and even...” Alex opened his eyes. “Afraid.”

  Garrett grunted. “If I didn’t have more important things to take care of, that one would have much to fear indeed.”

  “I can’t believe he’s gone,” Matt said.

  “Then, don’t,” Gregor said, stepping in. “You’re right. We don’t know for sure. I’m going to lay it out real straight for you, though, Matt: I don’t think he made it. You have to admit, if anyone could find a demon, it would be Garrett. But I’ll go look. You three need to get some rest anyway. I will scour Las Vegas. If he’s willing, I’ll take John.”

  “Sure,” John agreed.

  “I’m sure Jeremiah would have contacted someone standing here if he could,” Gregor pointed out. “If he doesn’t, and if we can find no trace of him, we have to move on. Okay?”

  Matt nodded wordlessly, dejected. Liz could find no words to express her feelings. That, however, was not a problem for Alex.

  “Don’t worry, Matt,” he said as he walked around the front of the car and put his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Metatron will eventually come looking for us. Then, we can both take a swing at him.”

  “No more talk of this out here,” Garrett commanded. “You never know who might be listening. The house is much safer.”

  Dylan, for the first time since being reunited with the other prophets, spoke up. “If a demon has extra-sensitive hearing, couldn’t they potentially hear us from within the house too?”

  Garrett turned around to face his apprentice. “I told you, Dylan, this is holy ground, much more so than even the Foundation Kingstone sits on. Many demon hunters and prophets have died on this land. It’s saturated with their blood. Even if the angel did allow any demons to come on the property, they would be hampered by the spirits who still reside here.”

  “You’re saying this place is haunted?”

  Garrett shook his head. “Your perception of ‘haunted’ is not comparable to what is going on here. There are sentient spirits on this land—I have spoken to some and know them well—but there aren’t many. The ground itself is sacred, the area all around here, and the house that was built on the property. We always knew this would be a battleground again someday. We just didn’t know which side would pick it or when. But Gregor is right. This is a conversation we can have tomorrow. Sleep well, prophets. Tonight, demon hunters will watch over you. In fact, Dylan and I will take the first watch.”

  None of the prophets argued, and everyone except Dylan and Garrett headed back inside. Alex was immediately embraced by both of his parents as he walked through the door. Soon after, everyone said their goodnights and went to sleep. Almost everyone in the house took Garrett’s suggestion and slept peacefully. Alex, M
att, and Elizabeth, however, lay awake for a long time reflecting on a friend they never thought they’d miss.

  ***

  Patheus sat behind his desk wondering why he had not received word from Las Vegas. He didn’t want to make any kind of move until he’d gotten a directive from Metatron. He had known that Jeremiah would not be as easy to eliminate as Metatron had thought. Nevertheless, he had expected some information about the battle by now.

  He picked up his phone, dialed a number, and awaited an answer. After three rings, he got what he was waiting for. “Yes, sir,” the other demon responded.

  “I want you to go to find out what’s going on in Las Vegas,” Patheus commanded. “I should have heard something by this point. I’ve called everyone I can think to call, and there are no answers, which makes me concerned. It may be that you’ll need to catch a flight to Vegas to get me the information I seek.”

  There was a pause before the other demon replied, “Understood.”

  “Keep in constant contact with me,” Patheus ordered. “As soon as you find out anything, let me know. It could mean your continued survival out there. I shouldn’t need to tell you that, if I haven’t heard from Metatron, there must be a very good reason. And that reason could still be roaming around Las Vegas.”

  “Yes sir,” came the response immediately.

  Patheus ended the conversation without another word. He thought for a time on what the best course of action would be when his meditation was disturbed by a knock at the door of his office. He looked up at the door and scowled from the intrusion. And why hadn’t his secretary called him to say that someone was waiting?

  “Come in,” he called.

  His face must have betrayed his annoyance at the sight because Eva smiled broadly as she strolled in.

  “I’m back,” she announced.

  Patheus rolled his eyes. “If I would have known that you were in town even five minutes ago, I could have used your help.”

  “Oh?” she asked without interest. “What for?”

  “I have not heard from Metatron in some time, and I need to know what’s happening in Las Vegas. I just sent Rimmon to investigate. I would have sent you.”

  Her face contorted in disgust. “What makes you think I want to go to Las Vegas to see why Metatron isn’t calling you?”

  Patheus chuckled softly. “What makes you think you would have had a choice?”

  She walked up and took a seat in a leather chair across from Patheus and stared at him, expectantly.

  “Why have you returned?”

  She gasped in shock. “You’re not even going to welcome me back?”

  “If I didn’t think you were here by some higher authority, I would tell you that you are most certainly not welcome here. As you are here, I’ll ask again: Why have you returned?”

  “I’m going to weaken Alexander Tanner by taking out one of his sidekicks,” Eva answered with a sly grin.

  Patheus looked bored. “Good luck with that. Which one?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Then, how do you plan to kill one of them?”

  “I haven’t decided that either, but you may rest assured that it will be quite devious.”

  Patheus looked at her with disgust for a moment. “If I ever do get in contact with Metatron, I’m going to ask him what you did to anger him enough to send you on this fool’s errand. Then, I’m going to ask him what I did to anger him enough to send you to me.”

  ***

  The sun shone through Alex’s bedroom window, waking him from a fretful sleep. His digital alarm clock read 8:37. He couldn’t have gotten more than four hours of sleep, but he was done. Even if he could force himself back into unconsciousness, he would probably only have nightmares.

  He lay in his bed, listening to people talking in the living room. He recognized the voices, but it took him a minute to identify them. One was Garrett’s, and he was talking to a woman. Abbie?

  He got up, threw on some clothes and walked to the door. Opening it, he peeked out and confirmed his suspicions.

  “Alex,” Abbie greeted, immediately sensing the presence of another conscious mind listening to their conversation, “I’m glad you’re awake. I would like to convene the Elder Prophets in an hour. I was planning on letting you rest, but as you are up, I would like your input, if you would give it.”

  Alex nodded and said, “I’m relieved you escaped safely.”

  “I am too,” Abbie agreed, letting the rest of her thought, the part that expressed deep regret for what they had lost, pass unspoken.

  Then, for a reason he didn’t understand, Alex added, “I’ll wake Matt and Liz. They should probably be there for the meeting.”

  “They’re not Elder Prophets,” Abbie reminded him.

  “Neither am I,” Alex countered. “Will Garrett be at this meeting?”

  Abbie smiled. “Point taken. Of course you’re right. What they have to say is valuable as well. Can we say here around the table in an hour?”

  Alex shrugged. “Sure. I’ll get Matt and Liz.”

  Abbie nodded, and Alex shut the door to get more properly dressed.

  ***

  Rimmon scanned the scene. Destruction and ruin were everywhere. Demon carcasses could be found all over, or at least pieces of them. It was a bad omen that no one had bothered to clean this place up, to dispose of the tell-tale signs of a supernatural struggle. That almost certainly meant that the demons had either been completely wiped out or forced to retreat.

  As he turned to walk back to the car and call Patheus, he saw that he had gained some unnoticed company. A man with a cane stood before him.

  “Saleos,” Rimmon hissed. “Were you party to this?”

  “No,” Saleos replied. “I had no idea this is what Jeremiah had in mind, but it looks like it worked.” Saleos took the time to dramatically examine the ground and poke at demon chunks with his cane before continuing, “It’s not safe for you here. Rogue demons and demon hunters have been prowling these lands for hours, looking for anyone who survived and might have ties to Metatron. You should probably return to Kansas City and tell Patheus that he may have to pull this one off alone.”

  Rimmon laughed. “I don’t for one second believe that Metatron is dead. I’ve heard it said too many times.”

  “And I’m not saying it now,” Saleos was quick to add. “I said may because, even though Metatron could have survived the blast that leveled Jeremiah’s mansion, he would be sorely wounded. If he goes to Kingstone, he’ll have to face Alex Tanner, and we all know how that tends to turn out. I’m afraid you and Patheus might get left out there by yourselves.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” retorted Rimmon snidely. “However, now that your master is certainly dead, you seem to be completely alone, yourself.”

  “It would seem that way, wouldn’t it?”

  “Why did you come to speak with me, you cryptic, old fool?”

  Saleos smiled. “I didn’t. I came to pay my respects, and you are the least threatening creature who has visited the site since the explosion.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. And sharing my wisdom with you is merely happenstance. You can swallow your pride and accept my reasoning, or you can endure the consequences of your ambition. Either way, you should leave soon because demon hunters have made more than one trip to Jeremiah’s compound in the last few hours, and I don’t think you can hide as well as I can if they come back again.”

  With that, Saleos limped aside to stand off the road and let Rimmon through. Rimmon stared hard at Saleos for a moment, then dropped his head, and walked to his car. When he turned back around, Saleos had disappeared.

  “Idiot,” Rimmon muttered.

  ***

  It was difficult to fit ten people around the table in the kitchen, but it happened. The entire Elder Prophet Council, Garrett, Alex, Matt, and Liz, sat very close together, having found every chair in the house that was small enough to drag in.

  “I can’
t do this,” Nathan said, almost on the point of hyperventilating.

  Abbie sighed. “You can’t do what?”

  “There are too many stupid people in this tiny room. It feels like my head is going to explode. Why the hell do you keep making me come to these things?”

  “You are, by all rights, an Elder Prophet,” Salmar replied. “Your opinion matters to us.”

  “That’s not true,” Nathan objected. He pointed at Abbie. “I told that bitch, not even ten minutes ago, to burn in Hell, and she did nothing except ignore me. You all always tell me what to do. You want my opinion? Get basic cable.”

  With that, Nathan folded his arms and childishly looked at the floor, but he didn’t leave.

  Abbie rolled her eyes. “Shall we commence?”

  “By all means,” Garrett seconded.

  Abbie stood up to take the floor. “With the destruction of prophet safe houses across the globe and the destruction of Jeremiah’s mansion in Las Vegas, many prophets with a mind to stand and fight rather than run and hide will flood into and perhaps overrun Kingstone. We need to come up with a solution before this becomes a real problem.”

  “People who drive by all of the construction going on around here would already realize that something is amiss,” Salmar pointed out. “We may as well increase production of living quarters. We have twenty acres to work with, and I think we can come up with the finances.”

  A look of sudden concern came over Abbie’s face. “I didn’t think about that. With Jeremiah’s life in question, the Elder Prophet Council needs to be prepared to take over if funding through Prometheus Broadcasting should cease.”

  “As the Council’s unofficial treasurer,” Sophie announced, “I can honestly say that it shouldn’t be a problem. We still have friends and resources all around the world. And our investments are typically good ones,” she tacked on with a satisfied smile.