‘It’s him,’ Jürgen croaked through his morphing mouth.
‘No shit.’ Hollis laughed, and Sabra noticed his teeth were shifting into horrid sharp little points, and his pupils became evil slits in his cold eyes. Her belly squeezed with anxiety. How could he hear them through Cain’s magical shield anyway? Hollis’s feral eyes latched onto her terrified gaze and he laughed as if he’d heard her thought.
‘I know all your thoughts and desires, Sabra.’ His voice licked the air around her and the hairs rose on her forearms.
‘Who is he, damn it?’ Christy barked, her nose crinkling in disgust as Hollis laughed again and picked a beetle that had landed on his gaping wound. He held the writhing insect for a moment and inspected it between his thumb and forefinger before popping it into his mouth and crunching it. The sound was gritty and wet, and Sabra felt her stomach revolt.
‘It’s been a long time since World War II, Berlin and the Führer bunker, has it not, Jürgen?’ He picked at a second beetle and crunched it as well.
Sabra stared at Hollis. What did he mean? Had Jürgen been around during Nazi Germany? Had Hollis?
Again Hollis chortled, brought up a blood-stained hand and touched the hanging flesh of his lower lip. He twiddled with it for a second. Sabra felt her stomach curdle as he gripped the flesh, then pulled the lower lip off completely and put it in his mouth, chewing it as though his severed lip was nothing more than a frayed fingernail.
‘He’s masterminded this whole thing, for years.’ Faustus coughed and it sounded wet and bad.
Cain’s expression clouded, and he looked from Sabra to Faustus. ‘Masterminded what?’
Faustus gave a shuddering cough. ‘Everything.’
‘He’s right, clever boy that he is,’ Hollis agreed. ‘We’ve been behind very nearly everything, even the SABRA breeding program. We started selective breeding for you — Ms Westwood — back in World War II.’ His horrid gaze turned to Faustus. ‘The Nazis did so enjoy selective breeding.’ He paused and surveyed the jungle for a moment before settling his gaze on Faustus again. ‘You are a clever thing, Faustus. Such a shame you discovered the truth. In ignorance, I could have continued using you, but alas…’
Cain stared at Faustus who was running a trembling hand through his blood-matted hair. ‘When did you figure him out?’
Faustus coughed. ‘When you killed Teyvada Sommai. I realised Sommai wasn’t human, his shape reverted in death.’ There was a brief pause. ‘At first I wasn’t sure what I’d seen, but almost immediately Hollis came to replace him. Hollis arrived from…nowhere. It was too much of a coincidence, so I started to watch him carefully. It took a few days, but eventually he gave himself away. The eyes, the strange electricity I could feel when he was near.’ Faustus coughed wetly again. ‘Hollis is a head Sonneillon demon. He’s been orchestrating this whole thing since he failed in World War II. The prophecy, the SABRA breeding program, the mafia, fuck, even Sabra’s ex-boyfriend.’
Sweat broke over Sabra’s skin — they’d all been pawns.
‘So, so clever, Faustus,’ Hollis oozed.
Cain stiffened and the muscles in his arms pulled taught. ‘The prophecy was told by thriae. You cannot have made that up.’
Hollis turned his reptilian eyes on Cain. ‘So they did. I make no claim as to that, I just used it for my purposes. Nicely done, huh?’
No one spoke for what seemed like a long time. Several thousand Rakshasa were returning to the blood-soaked clearing. They looked at Hollis with ill-disguised loathing — Sonneillon demons had nothing to do with Rakshasa. In the hierarchy of demons, Rakshasa were the nuisance ants — worthy only of being squashed.
‘But it’s too late, you see.’ Hollis sneered with his lip-less mouth. You’ve won against these troops here — but the repercussions of this…this…glorious slaughter will echo through the ages. The damage here has been done. Look around you.’
Hollis gestured at the ravaged corpses of the militia and the feasting Rakshasa. ‘This can never be forgiven. Humans will want magical blood to pay for the brothers who have laid down their lives for humanity.’
Sabra could feel Cain’s rage burn behind the shield of his magic. She knew all his hard work to improve magical rights could be dissolved in this act of violence and savagery, and a full-scale war between the magical and human world could well be on its way.
‘Fuck you,’ Cain snarled.
‘If it pleases you,’ Hollis grinned grotesquely, ‘but I will do so at my leisure.’
Sabra winced at the disgusting thought.
‘Cain,’ she asked, ‘how did you kill Sommai? Perhaps you can kill Hollis the same way?’
Cain shook his head. ‘Silver knife — technically, if he was a Sonneillon demon as Faustus says, it shouldn’t have killed him at all.’
‘Then how did he die?’
It was Hollis who answered gleefully. ‘He was a lesser demon than I. Younger, more stupid, still capable of being killed. A shame, but I have had enough of this chatter. It’s time for action.’
‘Why are you doing this?’ Sabra heard herself ask, her hand groping blindly to seek solace in Cain’s touch.
Hollis looked momentarily perplexed by her question. ‘Why — as a Sonneillon demon I feed off this.’ He gestured again and several nervous-looking Rakshasa recoiled. ‘More war equals more strength. Eventually I could rule the earth, as demonkind was always meant to.’
Oh dear.
‘What are we going to do?’ Sabra asked, as no one seemed capable of doing or saying anything after Hollis’s confession.
Cain’s body was still bristling. ‘We’ve got to kill him, but if he’s a royal Sonneillon demon as I suspect he is, he’ll merely regenerate his form, unless…’
‘Unless what?’ Christy growled. She gave Jürgen a punch in his beefy bicep as she hissed, ‘Wake up, dick-wad.’
Jürgen flinched, but his eyes didn’t budge from Hollis.
‘He’ll just keep going, getting stronger on all this death, unless we decapitate him,’ Cain said quietly — but Hollis clearly heard.
‘Good luck with that.’ He grinned, his raw mouth buzzing with flies. ‘No one has succeeded yet. Once a bunch of hippies tried singing Kumbaya at me, but that didn’t work well either.’
‘I like a challenge,’ Cain snarled — but it was clear, at least to Sabra, that this challenge was not one he’d like much at all.
Sabra hesitated, then said very softly, ‘I can help. Surely if I can block his view of us, it would give you a better chance. You can’t do it by magic alone. He can see and he can hear right through your magic shield.’ She paused, then added, ‘If he’s a demon who feeds off hatred…perhaps if we thought about happy things?’
‘What are you, Mary Poppins?’ Christy said.
Sabra reddened. Cain looked down at her, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ‘It might work.’ He walked over to her. ‘Sabra,’ he breathed, and she felt the soft caress of his breath against her hair and leaned her forehead into him. His skin was scorching through his shirt. ‘I — ’
‘I know, you don’t have to say it,’ she whispered, and reached up on her tip-toes to kiss him. When her lips met his she felt the wild pounding of her heart ease, and her mind clear. She smiled ruefully as she pulled away.
Usually the opposite happens.
‘Don’t send me away to somewhere safe,’ Sabra said as if reading his thoughts. ‘I want to be here with you, I want to help. I want to get this over and done with. I want…I want us to have a chance.’
‘There is no chance.’ Hollis interrupted and stuck a boot into Cain’s magical shield. ‘Her petty SABRA ability is no match for the power of a Sonneillon demon.’
Cain visibly flinched, and Sabra recognised the truth in his words. Demonic power was an altogether different beast from the usual kind.
Cain threw a glance at the Rakshasa. Abhay was circling Hollis with several thousand others in some sort of strange demonic Mexican standoff. Abhay�
�s eye caught Cain’s and he offered the small demon an almost imperceptible nod.
Abhay and his demons encroached closer, surrounding Cain, Sabra, and their team, as well as Hollis in their circle.
Hollis looked around, his face vaguely bemused. ‘Won’t work. I’ll kill these Rakshasa like the ants they are.’
It was then that Cain gave Sabra’s hand a gentle squeeze.
She concentrated and focussed on Hollis before her. She tried to feel his mind, though it seemed slimy and elusive. Then she had him.
‘Well done,’ Hollis crowed softly, ‘our little Chameleon’s talents can work on my Sonneillon mind, but alas…’ He paused. ‘What about the rest of you?’
It was true. Sabra simply could not manage to shield the others from the slimy Sonneillon mind; perhaps if she’d had more practice, perhaps if…
Deliberately pushing those thoughts away, she cleared her mind again, aware that Cain was speaking to the few behind the shield.
Hollis prowled, his body shifting and changing into something even larger. The fly-blown wound in his chest began to close, and his skin darkened to a bruised orange. His eyes grew bigger and increasingly alien. The feral half smile on his torn lips indicated he sensed their thoughts and knew of Cain’s plan. Without warning, Cain’s shield was gone, and the chaos on which Sonneillon demons thrived once again became a reality.
Chapter 22
The Rakshasa attacked first, tearing and howling into the fray with a madness only demons could possess. Hollis, however, was ready — his fingernails had shifted to poisonous black claws and countless more Rakshasa perished beneath them.
Sabra hesitated, unsure of her role. She was invisible to Hollis, she knew, but everyone else seemed to see her well enough. She could feel Hollis’s concentration waver as another swarm of Rakshasa flew at him. She knelt and assisted Cain in aiding Faustus to stand, as Christy and her crew formed an armed perimeter around them — shielding Cain, Sabra, Mags and Faustus with their own bodies. In the midst of this, Cain and Faustus conjured a weapon. It was some sort of long, curved dagger perfect for slitting and severing a demonic head — she presumed. The silver shone in the innocuous daylight though the trees. How on earth would they get close enough to Hollis to use it?
It was then she realised that they weren’t going to get close to Hollis. She was.
Cain turned to her and gave her the knife.
‘We’ve got your back, Sabra,’ Christy said, and placed an awkward hand on her shoulder.
A Rakshasa behind them yelped with pain.
Sabra gulped audibly and let her hand wrap itself around the smooth hilt of the dagger. She looked up into Cain’s solemn gaze and nodded. He licked his lips, and his jaw tensed as if he wanted to say something, but there was no time.
He looked abruptly away. ‘Christy, Jürgen, guns.’
The sound of gunfire was deafening. Sabra’s ears began to ring, but she kept moving forward. Their guns were firing directly at Hollis, raining down on Rakshasa and Sonneillon both. Hollis’s body jerked, but he kept moving forwards. Holes perforated his skull.
‘Go for the neck!’ Jürgen screamed, and the sound of gunshots rang again.
The Rakshasa limped away, but Hollis was nearly on them. ‘You,’ he snarled, pointing a bloodied hand at Cain, ‘you’re coming with me.’
Cain sent a round of shots from his gun into Hollis, but he seemed completely invincible. When Cain’s magazine ran out and he reached down to refill, Hollis lurched forward faster. Sabra could see that Cain was about to cast a spell, but without warning Faustus stepped in front of him.
Hollis gave a wet snorting laugh, sounding more mad than sane, and swiped the already injured magician away. As he did, Mags appeared in Aufhocker form and leapt onto Hollis’s back, her sharp teeth biting into the soft flesh of his neck. The guns stopped, as Christy’s crew could not avoid hitting Mags. Snarling, Mags worried at the flesh of Hollis’s shoulder but he ignored her and kept his pace towards Cain, who fumbled with increasing urgency for his bullet magazine. As he did his tongue tripped over a spell and the little amount of shielding he’d afforded himself shimmered and died — leaving him open and vulnerable.
It was now or never. Sabra’s heart hammered.
Still invisible to Hollis’s eyes, she crept up towards him.
He’s so tall! she realised, panicking. How could she possibly slit his throat from her height? She looked around wildly for something that may help.
Christy gestured to her.
What the hell does she mean? Sabra could no more decipher the cryptic gesture than she could ancient Sumerian texts. Sabra looked back with wide confused eyes, and she saw Christy’s brow furrow with irritation.
Then Christy ran at her.
‘What are you doing?’ Sabra screamed aloud, and her ability failed. Hollis turned towards her with a demented and bloody grin. With incredible strength he tore Mags from his shoulder and sent her flying into the jungle.
Just as Hollis was about to swipe at Sabra, she found herself hoyed into the air by Christy’s strong arms. Christy was fast and inhumanly strong, and pelted away from his grasp. Hollis lost interest in them momentarily, as Cain threw his gun. The discarded gun hit the demon squarely in the back.
‘You!’ Hollis hissed, as his eyes lit on Cain once again. Christy, still holding Sabra, began to creep up silently behind him, but Hollis moved faster than she believed possible.
Cain gave a sudden grunt of surprise and looked up as Hollis’s black clawed hand caught his arm in a death grip. He hesitated, and looked beyond Hollis to Sabra, held high in Christy’s arms.
Cain’s eyes met hers. Her heart tightened at his gaze — it was filled with love and affection. He gave an imperceptible nod.
‘Got you!’ Hollis laughed, tightening his grip around Cain’s arm and trying to haul him closer.
Cain could have used his magic to get away, to strike Hollis down, but he did not. His gaze flickered back to Sabra for a second and she knew what she must do.
Time seemed to slow. She stared at the bloodied back of Hollis’s head. His neck was thick with roped muscle, and she prayed the knife was sharp enough. Silently and slowly she reached out with the dagger.
Hollis must have sensed their thoughts or their presence behind him and with bewildering speed he whirled around. Consequently, it was his own actions that allowed the knife to slice through his neck. Muscle and veins were split open, and Hollis gasped in surprise and jerked back, releasing Cain as he did.
Sabra found herself landing on soft, blood-soaked forest floor. Hollis swiped hard at Christy’s belly and werewolf and demon tumbled down with her.
‘Sabra!’ Cain yelled, and she felt his big hands on her. Dazed, she looked up at him; he was like a big warm mountain. Her hand was white-knuckled around the dagger. She turned and watched with horrified fascination as Hollis and Christy grappled with one another on the forest floor. ‘Quickly,’ Cain said. His hand enclosed hers and they raised the dagger again.
Hollis was in bad form, blood gushing from his sliced neck. Christy used all her remaining strength to roll him on his back before she staggered away.
Suddenly her crew were there with Jürgen, holding the gagging and gasping Sonneillon demon down.
Wordlessly, with the dagger held tight in their clenched hands, Sabra and Cain stood over him.
‘Take his head,’ Jürgen gasped, ‘quickly.’
Sabra stared down at Hollis, barely recognisable as the neat, orderly police sergeant she’d once believed him to be. His eyes were completely reptilian and his face a mass of cuts and slashes. Still he hissed at them, somehow managing to stay alive despite his grievous injuries.
With her hand wrapped tightly in Cain’s, they lowered the dagger to finish the job.
Hollis let out a horrified gurgle as their knife sliced through the remaining cords and muscles in his neck and became stuck on the hard bones of his spine.
They couldn’t sever it. It seemed as ha
rd and as impenetrable as stone. Cain pressed down harder, yet still the bone neither crunched nor gave way beneath his substantial weight.
Hollis somehow managed a gurgling laugh.
‘Think good thoughts,’ Sabra said, to herself as much as Cain. ‘He’ll live off our hate.’
Cain grunted something, agreement or dissent she wasn’t sure.
His hand was so tight around hers it was painful. He leaned in and down, his body covering her, pushing her down. She found herself pressed hard against the wet, stinking chest of Hollis.
Still the spine did not break beneath the blade.
Hollis gave that hideous sound again. ‘Cain,’ Sabra pleaded.. He lessened his weight on her momentarily, giving his muscles a break. ‘We’ve got to do something. He’s living off our hate.’
‘I know,’ Cain grunted and pressed down again.
Sabra found her face flat on Hollis’s chest. She could hear the slow mechanical throb of his heart. ‘Think about something good.’ She cried, struggling not to gag on the demonic blood pressed against her face.
It was hard to think of something good at that moment, but she could feel Cain’s weight lighten on her which gave her room to breathe.
Hollis flayed wildly beneath them — the only thing keeping him down was the pressure on his neck bones and Jürgen and the crew’s weight — but they were still losing. Hollis seemed to be gaining strength.
As she tried to keep the panic at bay, Sabra thought about her ability. She had a powerful mind, didn’t she? She could trick people into believing she was not there. Surely she could impress some positivity into Hollis and weaken him.
She could hear Cain grate his teeth together, as he redoubled his efforts to bring their knife through Hollis’s spine.
Hollis’s gurgling sounded stronger. She could feel his malevolent thoughts pressing into her brain. She imagined violence, terror and murder.
She gasped and shook the hideous thoughts from her head.
They kept coming. She saw herself as an old, grey woman, alone and depressed. She saw Cain in the arms of countless other women.
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