Damnation Marked (The Descent Series)

by Reine, SM

  James took the prophecies from his pocket and opened it to the page he had dog-eared. “‘Explore destruction of offspring.’ That’s what it says, verbatim. If I misunderstand that, I would certainly appreciate enlightenment.”

  “Well, yeah, I can see how that would sound bad.” Malcolm grabbed for the book, but James held it away. “That’s Union property.”

  The witch shook the book at him. “This is my life. This is Elise’s life.”

  “You know what the Prophecies of Flynn say about me?” Malcolm asked. “Nothing. Nothing at all. And you know what that means? Nothing! Prophecies are uselessly incomplete. A man could drive himself to madness worrying over that kind of thing.” He suddenly lunged and ripped the book out of James’s hand. Malcolm touched the butt of his gun when James moved to take it back. “Watch it.”

  “I want to take my son and his mother to the Haven,” James said.

  “You do, do you?”

  “Yes. I want you to arrange transportation for me to Colorado, and then for my family from Colorado to the Haven.”

  Malcolm rubbed a scar that protruded from the side of his eye patch. “The terms are the same. You can take the Easter Bunny with you for all I care, but Elise has got to go, too.”

  “Of all the idiotic—”

  “Not my choice. It comes from Union HQ.”

  James glanced at his partner. Elise was having a conversation with an armed kopis by the generator, and whatever she was saying didn’t look nice. She pointed at the guard’s gun, the people in line, and the houses around them. Her shouts were drowned out by the helicopter’s beating propeller. Her hair and jacket buffeted around her.

  “I can convince her,” James said finally.

  “And what a fun conversation that will be.” Malcolm stuffed the Prophecies into his pocket and strode back to Elise’s side.

  Her yells became more distinct as they approached.

  “—children in those houses, and you idiots are so fucking trigger happy—”

  “Let’s go for a ride, Elise. We’ll have a chat,” Malcolm interrupted. He planted a hand in James’s chest to keep him from approaching the helicopter. “Not you. We’re getting people out of Reno, not letting them in. You’re going back the way you came.”

  “And what am I supposed to do? Go home? Twiddle my thumbs?”

  Malcolm tapped the side of his nose and pointed at James. “Spot on.” He waved at the kopis Elise had been yelling at. “I need transport. Take this gentleman wherever he wants outside the barrier.” He jumped into the helicopter again.

  “Elise,” James said as she followed the commander. She paused with a hand on the door, and he tucked the remnants of his Book of Shadows in her pocket. “Watch out. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  A smile ghosted across her lips. “Stupid? Me?”

  The helicopter lifted off.

  It was a harrowing ride through the black sky. The usual collection of Union monitors were spread across the cockpit, but they couldn’t be precise enough to guide the pilot through such perfect darkness.

  Yet the helicopter ascended steadily, the houses fell away beneath them, and it blew through the clouds as briskly as though it was the brightest of days.

  Malcolm buckled himself in, and Elise followed suit. Another man was already harnessed near the opposite door, feet on the skid with a gun trained on the neighborhood. She didn’t recognize him, but judging by the nasty look he shot over his shoulder, he knew her. “You were with Zettel’s unit at the summit, weren’t you?” Elise asked.

  “I guarded McIntyre when he was in custody.” She might not have known his face, but she knew his New England accent.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “I remember now. I kicked your ass.”

  He swung the muzzle of his gun around, but Malcolm leaned forward to get between them. “Remington, Elise—relax. We’re all friends here.”

  She scowled. “I’m not friends with the Union.”

  “Not yet,” he said. “But I told you things are different with me here.”

  “I’m not friends with you, either.”

  He put a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded. I thought we split on good terms.”

  “I checked out of a hotel while you were at a bar and left a note with the clerk. James and I were halfway around the world by the time you sobered up. If you ever sobered up.”

  Malcolm’s eye sparkled. “I’ve had worse breakups.”

  “I believe that.” She almost smiled. Damn if he wasn’t still a funny bastard. “What happened to Benjamin Flynn? The precog kid? Is he around?”

  “He’s not with the Union anymore,” Malcolm said. “He escaped.”

  He wouldn’t be collared anymore. He was free. Probably on the run—but free. “Good,” she said forcefully. Which only left one very large, very frustrating item of business. “You guys cut out the phones and power in the Reno area, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “This is the internet era. The Union had to act fast to keep the information contained and prevent—you know—panic. Mayhem. General hysteria.” He reached into the cockpit and grabbed a clipboard. “I’m going to have to ask you to sign a non-disclosure agreement, actually.”

  “A non-disclosure…?” Her jaw dropped. “You need me to sign what?”

  He handed it to her. Elise flung it out the open door of the helicopter.

  “Oh, come on,” Malcolm said. “What if that hits someone in the head?”

  “You can’t isolate an entire city from the rest of the world.”

  “Actually, we can.”

  “You don’t think having no power is going to cause more mayhem and hysteria?”

  “Reno’s somewhat of a lost cause anyway.” The helicopter swung through a bank of clouds, and the city became visible under them again. They were flying low to the streets, just over the train tracks.

  She grabbed his shirt in a fist. “That’s my home you’re talking about.”

  Thumping explosions echoed through the air. A tank rolled down the road, firing on a cluster of inky-black fiends that scrabbled in front of it. Elise glimpsed them for only a moment before the helicopter lifted again.

  Carefully, Malcolm dislodged her hand. “We’re doing what we can to make this go smoothly. The Union’s been preparing for this event for weeks—ever since Flynn saw it. It came earlier than we expected, but it’s going smoothly.”

  “You call this smooth?”

  “We’ve evacuated fifty thousand people to Fallon. Another twenty thousand are headed over the pass to Sacramento. That’s pretty good, you’ve got to admit.”

  “You don’t need to evacuate if I can stop this. And I can.”

  “You’ve done really well so far,” Malcolm said. “Hear me out, Elise. Some things are too big for a single kopis to handle. Remember the Grand Canyon? You never could have done that one without McIntyre. And this event is easily triple that. Quadruple. This is a mess, and the Union’s uniquely equipped to handle it.”

  “Like with the summit?”

  Malcolm grabbed the side of the helicopter as it banked hard. “We can save lives. A lot of them. But you’ve got to let us.” He put a hand on her knee. It was more of a fraternal gesture than a sexual one. Their days of angry sex were long gone. “You don’t trust the Union, but you once trusted me to watch your back. We traveled together for, what, three months? Four? We had a good time. Nobody died. I seem to remember saving you once or twice.”

  Or three times. Malcolm was a good fighter, strong, and fun—but unreliable. Elise would have kept him around longer if she could have trusted him not to disappear and get drunk on a whim. “What’s your point?”

  “If you can trust anyone to watch your territory, it’s me. I’ve got this. You have to believe me.”

  The helicopter abruptly began to descend. Elise gripped a handhold as her stomach rose into her throat. “Where are we?”

  “North Reno.”

  “You’re letting me back in the city?”

  �
�A gesture of goodwill,” Malcolm said. “Finish your business. Find your friends, if you’ve got any. Keep away from my teams. They’re doing damage control, and it’s terribly dark out there. And once you’re done, then get your ass back out again.”

  “This is my home. My territory,” Elise said. “I’m not going to leave it.”

  “I hope you’ll see us in action and change your mind.”

  The helicopter touched down gently on an empty street. Darkened apartment buildings stood around them.

  He handed Elise something heavy off of the seat beside him. It felt like metal panels covered in cloth, but she couldn’t make sense of the straps. “Bulletproof vest. There’s a lot of gunfire.”

  She almost didn’t put it on. She didn’t want to wear anything in that absolute shade of Union black with the bright UKA logo across the chest. But after a moment of consideration, she stripped her jacket and donned the vest over her spine sheath. She had to tighten the straps completely to get it to fit.

  Elise felt dirty putting it on, but if it kept her from getting shot by a confused kopis who shouldn’t have a gun—fine. Whatever it took.

  He offered her a Union earpiece. “Here.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Take it. Then you can call me when you’re ready to be extracted.”

  “Malcolm…” Elise blew a breath out of her lips. “I don’t hate you.”

  He grinned. “That’s quite the glowing recommendation, coming from you.”

  “But I hate the Union. I’m not taking it. And I’m not going to be extracted.”

  Elise dropped out of the door. It felt good to have her feet on solid ground again, even if the cold wind tasted like fire and she couldn’t see beyond the end of the street. “Avoid downtown if you can. It’s messy.” He grinned. “We’ll have to get a drink after this, if you survive.”

  She didn’t smile back. “Not a goddamn chance, Malcolm.”

  XIII

  The Union escort only took James as far as his car. It was up to him to pull it out of traffic and drive it over the median to head in the opposite direction.

  He passed a few optimistic cars attempting to enter the city and wondered if the Union would bother turning them away personally, or if those vehicles would get jammed in traffic like everyone else. The road was empty heading north.

  James ran out of gas on the edge of his neighborhood.

  Muttering profanities, he unplugged his cell phone again and walked the remaining distance. The houses were stirring with motion; the family on the corner was loading their minivan, and James was almost run over by another car on its way out.

  He spotted a neighbor—who he only knew as Mrs. Patrick—standing on her front step in a bathrobe and slippers. “What a night,” she called to him. “Are your phones working?”

  “No, Mrs. Patrick.”

  “What about your water?”

  “It’s still running, as far as I know. If you’re having problems, I can bring a few gallons to your house.”

  Her thin lips drew into a frown. “That won’t be necessary. My water is still running, too—for now. But just you watch.” She cast a final glance at the sky. “I think I should go stay with my son in Susanville.”

  “That might be a good idea.”

  Mrs. Patrick shuffled inside, and James went into his house as well.

  There was no sign that anyone had been there since he and had Elise left. He sank to his couch, which still had the impression of Yatam’s sleeping body on the cushions and smelled faintly of myrrh.

  The Union expected him to wait. Do nothing. Contact nobody.

  James pulled the grocery list out of his pocket. It was short; they only needed eggs and milk. It felt strange to realize that they now needed to replace everything else in their freezer, since it would have begun to thaw. Of course, that was with the expectation that he and Stephanie could escape a Union evacuation in the first place.

  His phone barely had any reception, but he got a dial tone. Taking a deep breath, James tapped out the phone number from the bottom of the list.

  It rang twice. Two very long rings.

  “Hello?”

  It had been eleven years since James had spoken to Hannah, but he still recognized the musical undertones in that single word. Her voice was high, a little breathy, and it always sounded like she was on the verge of singing.

  He realized that he had been silent for too long, and he said, “It’s me. It’s… it’s James.”

  “You got my email,” she said, sounding resigned.

  He closed his eyes to savor the sound of her voice. “Yes. I got your email.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “Do you really think that’s the issue here?” he asked with a small laugh. “You’re wondering how I found out about something as monumental as having a son?”

  “I have a son.” Hannah’s voice was hard.

  “Well, is he mine?”

  “He’s mine. But… yes. You’re the father.”

  James’s head dropped into his hand. Discovering that his ex-fiancée had cheated on him after a decade would have been so much easier than discovering he had a son.

  The receiver rustled. She lowered her voice. “Hang on. I’m switching to the line in my bedroom.” She covered the mouthpiece, but James could still make out her muffled shout through her hand. “Do you know what time it is? Get back to bed. Right now.”

  It fell silent for so many long moments. He took deep, measured breaths as he waited, trying not to let the thumping of his heart consume him.

  Eventually, she picked up again.

  “Are you still in Reno? It looks bad.”

  “Yes, I’m in Reno. What does the news say?”

  “Channel two says there’s no information yet, but some of the news sites are claiming volcanic eruption. It’s not a volcano, is it?”

  He sighed. Volcanic eruption. Of all the harebrained claims the Union could think up…

  “No. It’s not a volcano.”

  “Demons?”

  “What do you think?” he asked. “It doesn’t matter. It’s under control. I didn’t call to discuss the news.”

  She huffed. “Okay. Fine. Tell me what you already know.”

  “Only that I have offspring. And that’s a vast increase in the knowledge I possessed prior to yesterday.” James swallowed hard. Hannah remained silent. “What’s his name?” His voice came out much weaker than he intended.

  A long pause.

  “Nathaniel.”

  Nathaniel. That wasn’t one of the names they had discussed for future children when they were engaged. Or was it? It had been too long. “Is he like me?”

  “He’s a witch. Showing signs of being powerful. Probably the strongest in the coven.” It didn’t sound like that made her happy.

  “Who’s teaching him?” James asked.

  “Landon is working with him directly.” That was the high priest, who had been in charge for as long as James could remember. He was an old man with skin like beef jerky and a passionate love of herbal magic.

  “He’ll need a better teacher than that.”

  “No,” Hannah said.

  “I wasn’t trying to—”

  “Don’t forget, James, I know all of your secrets.” She didn’t sound angry. She sounded tired. “Every single one of them. I know who you are, and what kind of man you are, and the oaths you’ve made. And I know you are not the person I want to be in my son’s life.”

  He felt numb. His skin was flushed and hot. “It’s been ten years. You don’t know me anymore.”

  “Some things don’t change. They can’t.” She sighed. “You’re famous now. I’ve heard of the things you’ve accomplished with Ariane’s daughter, and—well, you should be proud of yourself, in that respect.”

  “Has Nathaniel heard these stories?”

  “Not many.”

  “Does he know I’m his father?”

  “He knows he’s not the immaculate conception,” she s
aid, a hard edge to her voice. “Tell me, James. Ariane’s daughter. Elise. Does she know the truth about you?”

  James’s hand clenched on the receiver. “I’m her aspis. We’ve fought hundreds of battles together. The things we have seen, the things we’ve done—whatever you’ve heard of us is barely the beginning. She is…” He let out a breath. “Elise is more than a friend. More than family.”

  “But does she know?” Hannah pressed.

  He bowed his head. “No.”

  “Like I said. Some things really don’t change.”

  It took all of James’s self-control not to throw the phone. Instead, he focused on the reason he called. “I’m coming to Boulder. Nathaniel is in danger.”

  Her voice sharpened. “How so?”

  “I learned of him through a prophecy which speaks of the end of the world. He’s somehow connected.”

  “Of course,” Hannah said with a bitter laugh. “Of course.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that trouble follows you, James. I don’t want you in Boulder.”

  “Even to protect Nathaniel?” She didn’t reply. He went on, struggling to keep the anger out of his voice. “I know somewhere safe to take him—to take both of you.”

  “And leave his school? Landon? Our family?”

  “Be rational, Hannah. He can’t go to school if he’s dead.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  James closed his eyes. He couldn’t think of an argument. He didn’t really disagree. “I’ll depart as soon as I can. I think I can be there by Monday, and you should be prepared to leave when I get there.”

  “We can talk about it,” she said in a tone that made it clear she had already decided not to go anywhere with him.

  But she would let him talk. He could see his son. It was a start. “I can protect you,” he said. “Both of you.”

  Someone knocked on James’s front door. He glanced up at the clock. It was after two in the morning.

  Hannah was speaking. “We don’t need your protection, and we’re not going to run.”

  “We’ll discuss it when I get there. I’ll email you when I know what day I’ll be arriving.”