by Mel Odom
Simon paced carefully. Miriam was good at swordplay. But this wasn’t Miriam.
“You’re not real, are you?” Simon asked.
In a blinding display of skill, Miriam exchanged a quick flurry of thrusts and cuts, and managed to slice into Simon’s left thigh. Warm blood trickled down his thigh.
“How real do you think I am now, Simon?”
Without answering, Simon attacked. He used his height, longer reach, and superior strength to batter at her defenses. Metal rang and the clangor echoed over the lake.
Then ripples started out in the middle of the lake. Within seconds, tentacles clustered at the top of the water and came toward shore.
“You didn’t think that was the only demon down there, did you?” Miriam struck at Simon’s unprotected eyes and turned him so that his back was to the lake.
Unable to see how close the demons were, Simon tried to get the upper hand and turn Miriam again. She held him fast. When he retreated, hoping to give himself brief respite, she pursued so closely that he had no chance to turn. Sweat coursed down him. His muscled ached.
“You’re tiring.” Miriam smiled. “I’m not going to tire. Either I’m going to kill you or the demons will.”
A tentacle plopped onto the shore. Curling and twisting, it searched for prey. Out of the water, it didn’t move so effortlessly or gracefully.
“I’m sorry.” Simon parried her strike, then parried again.
“For what? I won’t let you bleed on me.”
“For what I’m about to do.” Simon had her rhythm now. Like the real Miriam, this one had a fault in her swordplay that occasionally came up. When she felt she had the upper hand, her bladework fell into a routine as she worked faster and faster.
“You’re not going to—”
Simon parried her sword, but this time he lunged forward as well. It was a bold and dangerous move because he didn’t completely have control over her weapon. The sword’s flames braised his ribs. She held the weapon to him.
“Warning,” the suit AI said. “Failure of defenses and armor imminent.”
Simon ignored the suit AI and the pain baking into his side. He held her sword trapped, then dropped to one knee and hooked her under the opposite shoulder with his free arm. Holding on to her, aware of the tentacle only inches from his foot that slithered over the sand toward him, he whirled and threw Miriam in a judo move.
Cursing, Miriam flew through the air at the bulbous head of the demon in the lake. Tentacles caught her and drew her into the maw. She disappeared in a single gulp.
Before Simon could move, more tentacles whipped round his body and lifted him from his feet. He tried to use the sword, but tentacles quickly lashed his arm to his side. He squirmed and wriggled, but it did no good.
Simon.
Leah’s voice echoed inside his head. Simon thought of her, locked somewhere in the belly of an infernal machine created by the demons. It was more than he could bear.
Unless that was part of the dream as well.
“Warning,” the suit AI said. “Biometrics approaching dangerous levels.”
Biometrics? In that instant, Simon felt his pounding heart and forced respiration. That felt like part of the dream, and made sense for him to feel that way, but it wasn’t.
“Wake me.” Simon struggled against the tentacles, unable to completely let go the dream.
“Caution: stimulant might cause cardiac stress.”
“Wake me.” The maw opened beneath Simon. “Wake me now!”
The tentacles released, and Simon dropped toward the waiting maw. He flailed his arms and legs to no avail. When he dropped into the cavernous opening, the demon’s teeth and lips clamped closed behind him.
Simon awoke in darkness. For a moment he thought he was lost somewhere in the demon’s gullet. His breath locked in his lungs as he flailed around him. Then he realized he was in bed. Cold sweat covered his flesh.
“Hey, mate, you okay?” Nathan peered over the side of the bed above. Sleep and fatigue thickened his voice.
“Yes.” Knowing he wasn’t going to be sleeping anymore, Simon sat up. “No.”
Nathan cursed. “You’re still asleep.”
“Not anymore.”
“You sound confused.”
Simon waited a beat, feeling his heart slow. The sweat chilled him. “Have you been having nightmares?”
“What? You going to sing me a lullaby?”
“If you’ve been having nightmares, there’s a reason for it.”
“You’re bloody right. It’s called being at war with a vicious demon horde that’s invaded our world. Something like that, mate? It’ll give you nightmares straightaway.”
“I dreamed about Leah.”
“Knew you had your clock wound over her.”
Simon ignored the comment. “She talked to me in the dream. Said she was trapped inside a demonic machine that’s being used to invade our dreams.”
“Okay, now you’ve got me awake.”
“Good. We need to get moving.”
“Doing what?”
“We’re going to find out how many other people have been suffering nightmares.” Simon stood and headed for the shower before climbing back into his armor.
FORTY-FIVE
W arren stood atop a building with his arms outspread and let the hot wind from the Burn wash over him. He breathed in the foul stench and felt his senses reel. Tonight felt different than any other he had spent in the city. Part of him knew that it was because tonight he was the hunter, not the hunted.
He spotted an owl sliding silently through the sky. Since London had gone dark and the noise level of mechanical things had dropped, some of the scavengers had moved into the metropolitan area to scavenge food. Other predators gathered to feast on them.
Effortlessly, Warren slid his mind from his body into that of the owl. Over the past few nights, he’d hunted throughout the city in a similar manner. The exercise had gotten easier and easier. His powers continued to grow, but he didn’t know how much of that to attribute to constant practice or the desperation that resonated within him.
He’d even managed to take over some of the smaller demon things, but doing something like that always left him with a headache and a foul taste in his mouth for hours. Their minds and thoughts, even the simpler killers, were too strange, too darkly evil and malicious.
As the owl, he flapped his wings and gained altitude. He climbed through the cloudy night and spiraled for a moment over the building where his body stood. For a moment he was afraid of how vulnerable he was out in the open, but he trusted Daiyu and her followers to protect him. That had been another change that had taken place. Once they had seen the value he’d brought them, he’d taken comfort in their protection.
All of the Cabalists in her sept wanted the power that Warren wielded. Most of them had small things from demons, bits and pieces of flesh, horns, and bones that they had successfully grafted onto their bodies with Warren’s help. Their powers had increased, and as they gained, the sept gained members as well. Daiyu’s group now numbered a hundred strong. Twenty of them arrived with Warren tonight. He’d had to limit them to that number, and that had almost started several fights. They believed in him, and that felt good.
Warren, what are you doing?
Lilith’s voice echoed inside Warren’s head. For the past few days, his contact with her had been intermittent. He didn’t know what she was doing, and he no longer tried to figure it out. She had her own agenda, and she’d ripped away his hiding place.
“I’m hunting.” Warren felt a little defensive and he resented that.
You’ve got a group following you.
“Yes.”
Finally, ambition rises within you.
Warren checked a scathing response. “I already had ambition. I wanted to stay alive.”
You still want to stay alive.
“I can’t do that on my terms anymore.”
By hiding?
“Yes.”
Your terms were wrong. You’ve been given power for a reason. You’re going to be part of the great battles that stretch ahead of you from this moment on.
Warren wondered if the power she referred to was the silver hand she’d given him or if it was the powers he’d already manifested before the Hellgate had opened. He heeled over in the sky and sailed through the low-lying fog that masked the rooftops. Daiyu’s Cabalists occupied rooftops, fire escapes, and alleys. They all waited on his orders.
I will have need of you soon.
For a cold instant, Warren thought about telling her he was no longer in thrall to her, that he intended to go his own way. Then he was afraid he’d thought that too loudly.
“All right.”
Be safe until I call for you. You and I, we owe a debt to Merihim that needs paying. I know of a machine he’s had the demons construct that means much to him. Soon we’ll have to confront him.
That possibility left Warren chilled.
You want your revenge, too, don’t you?
“Yes.”
Good. I’ll see you then.
Warren felt her absence as she pulled away from him. He forced the owl’s wings to beat faster, till he screamed through the tall buildings in the East End. As he passed, he spotted gargoyles on some of the buildings, and some of the gargoyles spotted him as well.
Lookouts, he realized.
One of the winged demons sitting hunkered at a roof’s edge leaped from the building, flapped his wings, and gave chase. With uncommon skill and grace, Warren controlled the owl and forced her to skim by the sides of buildings in his effort to escape the demon. The owl’s wingtips brushed the side of the building.
The gargoyle overshot the corner. Before the creature changed directions, Warren flew in through an open window, across a room full of cubicles, and out a broken window on an adjoining wall. Outside, he dropped altitude and skirted low to the street.
He’d learned through experience that flying low left him vulnerable. Predatory birds hunted from the sky and used their keen sight to spot prey. Flying this low to the ground, he was prey.
Without a sound, he glided through the silent streets. A group of blood zombies feasted on a small group of scavengers they’d caught in an alley. The screams of the hapless victims as they were brought down were blood-curdling.
Warren felt badly for them. No one should have to die like that. But more than anything, he was glad he wasn’t them. It was selfish, but he didn’t feel ashamed of his feelings.
Three blocks farther on, Warren found his prey. The demon was one of the greater demons. Warren felt the power clinging to the shambling monstrosity and knew that he was Named. But he felt new, the way Shulgoth had when Warren had seen that demon in London’s streets four years ago.
The demon was at least ten feet tall. Broad and long-bodied, his short legs lent him the appearance of an ape. Snakelike tentacles jutted from his head, overshadowing his low brow. Red-violet scales covered his massive body. His snout belonged on a raptor, long and cruelly curved.
Ah, you have grown ambitious.
Warren glided to a stop in an empty window three stories above the demon. His fluttering wings drew the demon’s attention for just a moment, then the creature looked away as it strode without worry through the twisting street.
“You know him?” Warren watched the demon.
Yes.
“He feels newly ascended.”
He is.
“How do you know him?”
You’re not the only one who has ambitions. I’ve found out much since I’ve been in the city.
Warren had listened to stories over the past weeks, but none of them had mentioned Lilith.
I’m still not prepared to make my move. There are many who will not be happy that I survived.
Warren hated the fact that so many of his thoughts were open to her. “Who’s the demon?”
Kareloth. He has ascended since coming through the Hellgate.
“How?”
The Templar still fight fiercely, as do the military units still hiding within London. They’ve killed a few of the demons. Others, as always, have died at each other’s hands. There is always attrition. Demons are the first to hold grudges, and the last to rid themselves of them.
“How dangerous is Kareloth?”
Lilith’s laughter mocked him. Fearful?
Warren took no insult. “I want to win. And to do that, I can’t needlessly risk the lives of those that follow me. I have to give them victories, not defeats.”
You’re learning much.
Warren watched the demon walk toward a group of Darkspawn and carelessly bat them away from a cornered woman. Casually, Kareloth reached inside the car where the woman had taken shelter. He dragged her out, screaming for help, then ripped her into pieces, and dropped the bits into his mouth.
Are you going to give your warriors a victory?
“Yes,” Warren said.
Good. You need to hang on to that nerve. We’ll face Merihim soon.
Warren released the owl’s mind and tumbled back to his body.
Back inside his own body, Warren felt a momentary wave of dizziness. He staggered, then it was past. He opened his eyes and looked at the rooftop.
Naomi gazed at him in concern. He waved her aside and turned to Daiyu.
“Have you found a demon?” Daiyu asked.
“I have. This one won’t be easy, but we can bring it down.”
“How powerful is it?”
“It’s one of the Named.”
If Daiyu was nervous over that, the emotion didn’t show. Her face remained placid. After a moment, she nodded. “The rewards will be worth it.”
“I think so.”
Daiyu brought the walkie-talkie to her mouth and gave the orders.
“Are you sure we can take this thing?” Naomi asked.
Warren stood beside her at the mouth of an alley. He felt his power bubbling just under his skin, threatening to explode on its own if he didn’t give it release.
“We have to,” Warren said. “If we can take it down and harvest the body parts, we’ll be stronger.” He paused as he watched Kareloth farther down the block. “To survive, we need to be stronger.”
“You mean, we need to be stronger.” Naomi smiled ruefully.
Warren nodded. “I mean that you, all of you, need to be stronger. The more we learn, the more the demons will hunt us.”
“Are you ready?” Daiyu asked over the walkie-talkie headset Warren wore.
“Yes.”
Daiyu hesitated. “I don’t want to lose any of my people.”
“I can’t guarantee that. I can guarantee that whatever we take from Kareloth will enhance the abilities of everyone we successfully graft to.”
Silence echoed in the walkie-talkie for a moment.
“All right,” Daiyu said, “but don’t walk away from this.”
“I won’t.”
“If you do, I’ll track you down and kill you.”
“Not exactly the best incentive I could hope for,” Warren said.
“Perhaps not, but I mean every word of that.”
Warren didn’t doubt her. He stayed within the shadows and waited till Kareloth reached the alley where he stood. He planned to let the demon walk by him, then attack without warning.
Instead, Kareloth hesitated. He came to a full stop and snuffled the air, snorting like a pig. Unerringly, the demon turned and smiled into the shadows that wreathed the alley.
“Human.” Kareloth grinned. Saliva dripped from his jaws. His lips ricked back to reveal sharp, serrated teeth still bloodstained from his earlier victim. “I know you, Warren Schimmer.”
Panic flooded Warren as he stood pinned in the demon’s gaze.
“Merihim sends his regards.” Kareloth opened his mouth and breathed a great gout of flame.
FORTY-SIX
L eah fell through nightmares. She didn’t know how many she visited—or created—because they all seemed to run into one
another. They became a kaleidoscope of insanity that threatened to drink her down.
Every time she tried to gather her wits round her, to focus on what she knew to be true, the landscape of nightmares shifted and she’d be somewhere else. She most tried to cling to the memory of Simon Cross. She had touched his thoughts. She was sure of that.
But she didn’t know if he’d believe she was truly there or would remember what she’d told him.
The maddening jumps continued. She ran beside a soldier who tried to enter an exploded building for one of his teammates. She felt his panic as he shoved through the falling timbers and tried to avoid the hottest flames. His suit protected him somewhat, but the heat threatened his swirling senses.
“You’ve got to get out of here,” Leah told the man.
“Can’t.” The soldier caught hold of a sagging timber and shoved. A section of the wall fell away. “George is in here somewhere.” He lifted his voice. “George!”
“It’s too late.”
“It’s not too late. I’m not going to let it be too late. George is my mate. I told him I’d watch his back.”
A Stalker demon crouched in one corner. The creature bunched its legs, getting ready to jump.
“Look out!” Leah clawed the SRAC machine pistol from her side and brought it to bear as the Stalker leaped. She shoved at the soldier with her free hand, but it passed through the man’s body. In the next instant, the SRAC’s bullets speared through the Stalker’s body without a trace.
The Stalker hit the soldier and bowled him over, sending both of them sprawling onto a section of flaming carpet. The fire-retardant material of the soldier’s suit protected him from catching fire, but the heat consumed him.
Leah felt the man’s body burning. Pain raked angry claws through her flesh. She cried out in agony. Instinctively, she ran to the man and tried to pull him from the fire. He rolled and fought the Stalker, but Leah couldn’t get a grip on him. Frustrated and helpless, she watched as the battle continued.
Then a section of the ceiling fell and dropped on them, hiding them from view.
“No!” Leah ran forward, stumbled on the debris, and fell.
