Hellgate London: Covenant

by Mel Odom

Lilith turned and frowned at him. “She’s a dependent. Taking, but not giving.”

  “When I passed out after the fight with the demons, who took care of me?”

  “The zombies. The demons you held in thrall.”

  “They didn’t talk to the villagers and persuade them not to kill me while I was defenseless.”

  “Even unconscious, you aren’t defenseless,” Lilith told him. “The hand I gave you takes much better care of you than the one Merihim gave you.”

  Talking about his hand like that made Warren uncomfortable. Nightmares about the night four years ago when the Templar Simon Cross cut his original hand from his arm still haunted Warren. And he didn’t like Lilith pointing out that she’d given him the hand. It made the fact that she could take it back even more real.

  “Naomi is human,” Warren said. “She can take care of me in ways you can’t.”

  Lilith strode toward him and her gown rippled in the cold winter breeze even though snowflakes drifted through her. She clearly wasn’t happy, but Warren didn’t think she would attack him.

  “What? Are you talking about the physical relationship she has with you?” Lilith asked.

  Warren’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Even after all that he’d been through these past four years, after having survived a childhood that was anything but safe or loving, he remained modest about some things.

  “No,” he said. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Naomi exists on a physical level that you don’t. And she can interface with humans.”

  Lilith approached Naomi and hunkered down beside her. Warren’s heart tightened in his chest. He pushed himself to his feet and shrugged out of the quilt as Lilith ran a hand along Naomi’s sleeping form. Lilith couldn’t touch her, though. Her trailing hand didn’t even disturb the wrinkles in the quilt.

  “Your concern for her is going to get you into trouble one day,” Lilith said.

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s here only to use you for her own gain.”

  Warren couldn’t dispute that. When Merihim had taken his hand back, Naomi had left him. Of course, he hadn’t been fit to be with at the time, either.

  “We use each other.” Warren pinned Lilith with his gaze. “All of us.”

  Lilith laughed at him. “It amuses me to think what you would do if I, too, had a physical form.” She looked back at Naomi. “Then one of us would be expendable.”

  Not thinking happy thoughts, Warren told himself.

  Lilith returned her gaze to him. “Since I lack a physical form and you follow me anyway, I don’t think I would be the one who felt threatened.”

  Warren struggled to think of something to say to that but failed.

  “Get her up,” Lilith commanded. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”

  “How much farther?”

  “We’ll be there by this afternoon. If you don’t tarry.”

  Warren knelt down beside Naomi, took her by the shoulder, and gently shook her awake.

  “Is there someone else?” Naomi asked.

  Confused, Warren glanced at her. “Someone else?”

  “With us.”

  Warren glanced at the zombies that flanked them, then searched the nearby brush and marshlands with his arcane senses. Nothing hit his radar.

  “No,” he answered. “We’re alone.”

  For a moment, Naomi remained silent. Then she said, “I get the impression that someone else is out here with us. I’ve had that feeling since we left London.”

  Warren knew Lilith walked beside him, but he ignored her while under Naomi’s scrutiny.

  “Perhaps,” Lilith said, “she’s not as stupid as I’d thought.”

  Anger stirred inside Warren, and he wondered if Lilith chose to make Naomi feel her presence now. Even in the past few hours, Lilith had started looking more substantial.

  “Is that it?” Naomi asked. “Is someone else here?”

  “If someone else were here,” Warren said irritably, “don’t you think you’d know it?”

  “I think I do. That’s why I asked.” Naomi fixed her gaze on the patchy dirt road they followed. The leaden gray sky beat down on them through the whirling haze of snowflakes. “I couldn’t see Merihim, either.”

  “That’s because he didn’t want you to see him.”

  “I was thinking this was the same thing.”

  Warren remained quiet.

  “You told me about Merihim, though,” Naomi said. “I just wanted to know why you weren’t telling me now.” She paused. “I also feel this is connected to that book. The one that you can read but I can’t.”

  “How much longer are you going to allow her curiosity to threaten you?” Lilith asked.

  Warren concentrated on walking. He still hurt from the battle the night before.

  “I trust you,” Naomi said.

  “Lie,” Lilith hissed.

  Warren knew Naomi lied. He felt the lie on her. But he didn’t blame her. She trusted him some, but that wore thin.

  “I trust you,” Warren said.

  Naomi took his hand, his flesh and blood hand, and held it. “Then tell me what’s going on.”

  Feeling the warmth of her, remembering the four years they’d been together and apart, Warren took a deep breath and told her about Lilith. He didn’t tell Naomi everything, but he told her enough.

  Lilith hissed like a scalded cat and walked away. Fear quivered inside Warren as he watched her go. He didn’t want her to desert him, but he honestly felt that she wouldn’t. If Lilith had had anyplace else to go, she’d have already gone.

  You need me, Warren thought at her.

  For a moment, Lilith glanced back at him. “Don’t get too arrogant for your own good, human.” And in that one word, she reminded him of the vast divide between them.

  “Do you believe she’s that Lilith?” Naomi asked. “The one who was supposed to be Adam’s first wife?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Curiosity chafed Naomi as she considered the question. They sat beneath a scrub tree on a log. Warren had dragged another log over and set it ablaze with his powers. She took a loaf of bread from their supplies along with a ham. Using her knife, she sliced the bread and meat and made sandwiches for them both.

  “Do you know much about Lilith?” Naomi asked.

  “She isn’t very talkative.”

  “Not her.” Naomi glanced around and tried to find the woman Warren said accompanied them. Her inability to do so aggravated her. Warren described her as beautiful and young looking despite her thousands of years of existence. “The one in the legends.”

  “I’ve researched her,” Warren replied. He stood and walked closer to the fire to warm himself.

  Naomi held a hand out. The energy she’d used to keep from freezing in the winter cold had been enough to do that, but only just. The warmth from the fire seeped into her and felt so much better than what she’d been able to do.

  “She’s supposed to be the mother of demons,” Naomi said. “Legend has it that when God first created her, she was attached to Adam. Then he separated her from him and evidently opened up a path to a world of demons. Some sources called it the Great Abyss, but that could have been the Well of Midnight.”

  “I suppose.”

  Warren’s obvious lack of interest in the matter irritated Naomi. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

  “Of course.”

  “You could ask her, you know.”

  “I have. She won’t tell me. Also, I’ve learned that asking too many questions can sometimes get you killed.” Warren looked at her meaningfully.

  “Me? You’re talking about me? That she might kill me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she doesn’t like you very much.”

  For a moment, Naomi thought that she heard a mocking peal of laughter. She hoped it was only the wind, but she feared it wasn’t.

  “Has she at least told you what we’re out here looking for?”
<
br />   Warren quietly wished that Naomi would just be quiet. Telling her about Lilith was a mistake. For the past hour, since they’d resumed their trek, Naomi continued to pummel him with a barrage of questions.

  “No,” he said.

  “Then why did you come?”

  “Why did you come?” he replied.

  “Because you asked me to.”

  “Lilith asked me to come.”

  Naomi frowned in displeasure at that. For a while, she was quiet, but Warren knew it wouldn’t last. As soon as she thought of a new way to ask the questions she wanted answers to, she’d ask once more.

  Warren studied the countryside. Snow covered the sides of the hills and hung in the branches of evergreens lining the valley. If it weren’t for the zombies lurching around them as the undead things tirelessly kept up, the scene would have looked idyllic.

  They were far from the beaten path now. He hadn’t seen houses or signs of habitation in over two hours.

  Lilith suddenly stopped and walked toward a tree to her left. Unconsciously, Warren followed.

  “Where are we going?” Naomi asked.

  “I don’t know.” Warren pushed through tall dead weeds and brush as he trailed after Lilith.

  A moment later, Lilith stopped and pointed at a tangle of snow-covered vines. “Here,” she said.

  “What?” Warren asked. Then he saw that the vines and bushes wrapped around an artificial form. Excited and fearful, he grabbed a fistful of vines and tugged. Snow drifted to the ground, and the vines came apart with brittle snaps in his fist.

  Naomi joined in. She took her knife from her belt and slashed at the vines and brush.

  In a few moments, they cleared part of a low stone wall held together by cracked and weathered mortar. Several gaps showed. Warren studied the stones, hoping for some kind of markings.

  “What is this?” Naomi asked.

  “I don’t know.” Warren glanced up to where Lilith stood watching them.

  “It looks like an old Roman wall.”

  Warren agreed. England was covered in structures and walls left by the Romans, as was most of Europe. That empire had covered continents and spanned centuries. For a time, Hadrian’s Wall had separated northern England from the south, holding back the Picts.

  “A Roman wall in this part of the country isn’t anything special,” Naomi said.

  “Looks like no one knew this one was here,” Warren replied. Dread laced his excitement at the discovery. Whatever Lilith searched for couldn’t be good. He hoped it wouldn’t kill him.

  You don’t believe it will, he told himself. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.

  “You’ll need to clear more of the wall,” Lilith said.

  “What are we looking for?”

  “A mark.”

  “What mark?”

  “I’ll know it when I see it.” Uncertainty touched Lilith’s features, but she shook it off. “This has to be the place. But so much has changed.”

  Warren stepped back from the wall and called to the zombies. “Here. Rip this away.”

  With zombies, it was hard to tell what they understood and what they didn’t until it was sometimes too late. Simple commands that a living, breathing person understood immediately became difficult to issue. But in this case, the zombies understood immediately. They fell upon the wall like locusts and tore the brush away.

  “Stop them,” Lilith ordered.

  At Warren’s command, the zombies stepped back from the wall. They’d worked hard for ten or fifteen minutes. Many of them now had broken fingers, and the freshest zombies from the village had lacerated palms. The undead stood nearby, twitching and jerking.

  Lilith peered more closely at the wall and traced stones with a manicured forefinger. Accumulated dirt peeled away under her nail. Warren couldn’t imagine any other woman he knew risking her nails in that fashion. But every now and again, Lilith’s nail looked like a curved talon.

  “She’s touching the stone?” Naomi asked.

  For the first time, Warren realized that Lilith interacted with the physical world. Something had changed, and change—at least in his experience—wasn’t a guaranteed good thing. Wariness rose up within him.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  Seconds later, a shape carved into one of the stones stood revealed. Warren thought it was maybe a bird, or maybe an insect.

  Lilith stood and looked around. She smiled and turned to him. “This is the place. I feel the power here.” She reached down for a loose stone atop the wall. She tried to pick the stone up, but in the end she succeeded only in causing it to shift and topple from the wall.

  “What place?” Warren asked.

  “My place.” Lilith strode from the wall in carefully measured paces. At thirty-two, she stopped and turned back to Warren. “You must dig here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because what we seek is underground.”

  Warren looked at the virgin snow and knew the hard-packed earth below it would be frozen. “I didn’t bring any shovels or trenching tools. I didn’t know there was going to be digging involved.”

  “Find a way,” Lilith ordered. “You didn’t come all this way to fail.”

  NINETEEN

  W hen she was released from the hospital a few days later, Leah wore an eyepatch over her right eye. The patch and the strap holding it itched and constantly bothered her. Beneath the patch, the socket remained empty. The surgeons chose to remove the eye rather than risk infection so close to the brain.

  A prosthetic replacement—nonfunctional except for the possibility of an image recorder or poison dart air gun, both of which were readily available—wouldn’t be feasible till the flesh healed. Even then the prospect of putting an artificial eye into her head didn’t sound pleasing.

  Leah returned to the rooms she’d been given inside the secret complex maintained below London. The city, it seemed, held enough spaces belowground to hide many secrets. There were several such complexes, but her organization didn’t have access to all of them.

  Even after four years, the rooms didn’t feel personal. Instead, she felt like a hotel guest. She tried to watch recorded movies and programs, and she tried the few books she’d managed to get her hands on. She even cooked her own meals instead of simply going down to the commissary to eat.

  Nothing worked. Each day—and there were five of them in a row, five times as much as she’d ever spent there in a row—got harder to manage. She needed something to do, and she felt that need incessantly.

  The only times she got out of the rooms were to get supplies and to exercise. Despite the physical recovery ahead of her, she pushed her body to get back into shape. Physical conditioning mattered out on the street, even inside one of the bio-enhancing suits.

  Mostly she slept and she waited for the time when Lyra Darius cleared her for an assignment. Leah petitioned daily in the mornings and afternoons by e-mail. But she didn’t know if she was ready to undertake the assignment she felt certain she would be given. She wondered what Simon Cross would say about Lyra’s offer to make him the supreme leader of the Templar.

  Will it tempt Simon? she wondered. Especially in light of what Booth tried to pull only a few months ago? She knew if it simply meant getting High Seat Terrence Booth out of his position then Simon would be more tempted. She’d been with the other Templar when they’d broken Simon out of Booth’s trap.

  Simon respected many of the other Templar. Usurping power over them wouldn’t be easy.

  And that was only if Lyra Darius could make good on that offer. If she couldn’t and Simon tried to do that, he could end up in a worse position with the Templar than he currently was.

  In the meantime, all Leah could do was watch and wait to see what happened. She had no way of getting in touch with Simon Cross to discover if he was alive or dead. Lyra’s offer might not even be viable.

  On the morning of the sixth day, Lyra Darius sent a message through the Internet channels set up inside each of the rooms. Eating
dry cereal from a box and watching news footage of the invasion, Leah hoped once more that she saw something about the Hellgate that she—and no one else—had ever before noticed.

  Letters printed across the television screen. LEAH CREASEY.

  Leah picked up the room interface pad from beside her on the couch. She brought up the small computer application and wrote: I’M HERE. The device translated it into typed letters on the screen. She pressed SEND.

  The television monitor blanked the news footage it showed from around St. Paul’s and brought up a fresh screen. Lyra sat at a desk in an office somewhere in the underground complex. The office location was known only to a handful of people. Leah wasn’t one of those people.

  “How are you feeling?” Lyra asked.

  “Better.” Leah hated the fact that she struggled un-sucessfully to focus on the image the way she used to. Things just looked different these days. She kept telling herself that her vision would improve, but she really didn’t think it would. Or that she would get used to it over time. She didn’t think that would happen, either. Constantly noticing what she’d lost terrified her and made her feel claustrophobic.

  “Good.”

  “I’m ready to get back to work,” Leah said before the woman said anything else. “I…I need to get back to work.” She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell Lyra that the business they were in didn’t really include a friendship basis.

  Over the years, she’d gotten to know a few of the other operatives, but only on ops, never to go out and get a drink with. Their training precluded them from seeing one another after they went out into the world. Even a demon-infested one.

  Safety lay in staying apart and getting together to secure intel or destroy something. Hit and git remained the only way they worked effectively. Staying in a dwelling made a target of agents.

  “We’re going to see if we can accommodate you. I’ll meet you in the intelligence block in twenty minutes. Can do?”

  “Can do.” Leah felt embarrassed about the excitement in her voice. As soon as the monitor blanked, she launched herself into motion.

  Leah felt naked in street clothes and not in the black armored suit. For the moment, the doctor handling her case hadn’t cleared her for that, either. She wore jeans, boots, and a sweater against the chill in the room.