Raven's Fall (World on Fire Book 2)

by Lincoln Cole

  Nida heard no more guards behind her while she ran up the flights of stairs. She hadn’t caught them all in the explosion but doubted they would be ready to continue the fight, at least for a few more minutes.

  The demon hadn’t expected Aram to betray her but had prepared for it. To be honest, she even felt a little impressed that he hadn’t just lain down and taken everything she threw at him.

  She’d hoped to have Frieda and be on her way out before calling in her soldiers, but it looked like she would need to improvise.

  Nida pulled a small device from her pocket and pressed a button. It sent a signal to the two teams of mercenaries hidden in the woods outside the hotel. Their first action would be to cut the power, and with the backup generator already out of commission, they would have no trouble breaching the fence.

  With the distraction and chaos happening inside, they would have no trouble launching their small war against the Council.

  Their orders were to kill everyone.

  With ease, Nida found the room that Aram had mentioned. No guard stood out front, but a chair did show where a guard should have been sitting. It looked like he had abandoned his post.

  This was, indeed, where they held Frieda. Aram hadn’t even managed to lie to her about it and cost her more time. Alarms blared now, filling the halls with noise and contributing to the chaos.

  A few seconds later, the power went out. The hallway went completely dark, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust. They would scramble now to get the generator back online, and if there had been only minimal damage, it might only cost them a couple of minutes, but it would be enough.

  Nida opened the door to Frieda’s room and stepped inside. Movement registered a second later, and the demon ducked just as Frieda swung a cabinet door at her head. It hit against the wall, snapping in half, and then Frieda came charging out at her with a flurry of attacks.

  Nida danced back, creating some distance, and then she burst out laughing. “Wasn’t expecting that!”

  Frieda didn’t respond. Instead, she charged forward, dropping the broken pieces of the cabinet onto the floor and launching another strike at Nida, aiming for her face and chest with her attacks. Frieda wasn’t terrible, and with the recent wounds on Nida’s body, the demon noticed it becoming more difficult to move but realized that Frieda wouldn’t be a match for her.

  Frieda had modest training but wasn’t a soldier. Nida deflected her first several attacks, and then countered with a series of blows, knocking Frieda back into the wall, kneeing her hard in the stomach, and then elbowing her in the back of the head.

  Frieda collapsed to the ground with a groan, trying to pick herself up. She fell again, disoriented.

  “Surrender,” Nida said, stepping away.

  Frieda rolled over and kicked out at Nida’s legs. The demon backpedaled, easily avoiding the attack, and Frieda found her feet. She charged back in, swinging with abandon and trying to take the demon down.

  Nida stepped back, and her left leg almost gave out because of the bullet wound. She staggered, caught her balance, and then waited for Frieda to approach. This time, when Frieda came in, she hit her hard in the chest with an open palm, and then followed through with a low kick to the back of Frieda’s legs, throwing her to the ground once more.

  “I don’t want to kill you, but I don’t need you alive either. All I need is your blood.”

  Frieda tried to get up again, but Nida stepped on her chest, pinning her down.

  “Why?”

  The demon smiled, sliding the ornate dagger free and holding it up to the light. “Your blood is special.”

  Frieda reached up and grabbed Nida’s leg and rolled, throwing her off-balance and toward the floor. The demon hit the ground and rolled, finding her balance a few feet away just as Frieda stood.

  She rushed back in at Frieda, deflecting a few clumsy attacks and hitting the woman hard in the face, breaking her nose. Frieda staggered back, dazed, and Nida caught her arm. She sliced the wrist, and Frieda jerked back as blood dripped out.

  Nida chanted a few quick words, holding the blade up with the blood on it. After a few seconds, the hallway grew hot, as though someone had turned up the temperature by twenty degrees. The blood that had fallen to the floor sizzled and boiled, and then ate through the carpet like acid.

  Frieda watched it in horror. “What the hell is that?”

  “Your blood has power,” Nida said. “I don’t need much of it, but a renewable source is always preferable.”

  Frieda stared at her for a second, and then turned and sprinted down the hallway, heading toward the stairwell. The demon caught her after only a few steps, knocking her to the ground and slamming her head into the floor. Frieda groaned and thrashed, but Nida had no trouble keeping a hold on her.

  She tore off a part of Frieda’s shirt and tied it around her wrist, staunching the flow of blood.

  “There we are, that’s better.”

  “You won’t get away,” Frieda said, dazed.

  “On the contrary,” Nida said. “I already have.”

  She forced Frieda to her feet and pushed her toward the stairwell. Blue security lights flickered to life, and the alarms sounded again, but all too late. The demon’s soldiers would have had plenty of time.

  As soon as they headed down, gunshots echoed up. The sound brought a smile to Nida’s lips. Her small army had breached the fence and had set about cleaning up the defenses outside while the disorganized and scattered guards tried to mount countermeasures.

  By the time they made it to the lobby, Nida’s forces had complete control of the exterior of the facility. The team totaled twenty soldiers, most of them human, but with a few demons mixed in. One of them came over to her as she pushed Frieda to the exit.

  “Is our train ready?”

  “Yes, sir,” the soldier said. He might have been attractive, once, but his rotted face betrayed that he’d been dug up a few weeks ago. “It will arrive in fifteen minutes and wait for us. We’ve locked down the station.”

  “Good. Send the soldiers door-to-door. Kill everyone,” Nida said. “No one can be left alive.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And do it fast. We leave shortly. We have what we came for.”

  The man nodded, and the soldiers moved into the building. Nida pushed Frieda out into the snow and toward one of the parked cars. Outside lay the bodies of several soldiers, who had gotten gunned down when the attack started. A few of the casualties came from her team but most belonged to the Council.

  The demon pushed Frieda into the backseat and turned to survey the havoc she’d wreaked. The hotel had set on fire and smoldered on the far side of the building where she’d blown up the generator. Part of it had collapsed. It would burn slowly for many more hours, and with the storm, it would take a long time before any help could arrive.

  By that time, the Council would be gone.

  Gunshots sounded from inside the building while her team mopped up the Council members. All of them in one location: she couldn’t have asked for a better present from her arrogant father.

  A glorious day, indeed.

  Chapter 19

  Dominick sensed that something had gone wrong even before he made it to the hotel room where Haatim’s mother stayed. The lobby stood nearly empty with few guests staying at this time of year. Not down to anything in particular that he saw, but just a feeling he had that something seemed wrong—too quiet—and he’d learned to trust his instincts.

  He knocked, but received no response. The door proved locked, and it sounded silent inside the room. Dominick drew his pistol, chambered a round, and then knocked once again. More to justify what he was about to do than anything else.

  He stepped back and kicked the door open. It blasted back when the lock splintered, and he walked inside, pistol ready.

  The room stood in shambles. Luggage lay scattered everywhere in the suite, and the kitchen had been torn apart. In the center of the room sat Haatim and his mother,
tied back-to-back on chairs and gagged.

  A large bag of plastic explosives and a timer sat on the floor next to them. Though counting down, it still had ten minutes to go.

  Haatim saw him and screamed into the gag, trying to get his attention. Dominick stepped around the bag and removed the gag from Haatim’s mouth, and then he set about untying he and his mother.

  “She has my father,” Haatim said.

  “Who?” Dominick asked, trying to undo a persistent knot. It had pulled too tight, so he slipped a knife out instead and sawed at it. “What the hell happened?”

  “She’s taking him to the Council and planning to use him to break in. We need to get there and stop her.”

  “Who?” Dominick asked. A sick feeling settled in his stomach. “Abigail?”

  Haatim looked at him like he’d gone crazy. He shook his head. “No, not Abigail. It doesn’t matter. We need to go now before something terrible happens.”

  Haatim’s mother seemed groggy and barely conscious. After untying her, Dominick carried her over to one of the beds and laid her down. He checked her pulse. Though she would be all right, it looked like she’d been drugged with some heavy stuff.

  “We need to get out of here,” Haatim said. “The bomb will go off. We need to evacuate the building.”

  Dominick shrugged. “We have nine minutes left,” he said.

  “Do you know how to disarm a bomb? What happens if you cut the wrong wire?”

  “Why would I cut any wires?” Dominick raised his brows. “This is a bag of plastic explosive with a timed detonator.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, when the clock reaches zero, it triggers the explosive, but there aren’t any failsafe’s or backups. No cell phone trigger. Just a normal timer counting down.”

  “So, how do you stop it?”

  Dominick reached into the bag, grabbed the clock, and unplugged the wires connecting it to the bricks of C4.

  He glanced at Haatim and smiled wryly. “Voila,” he said.

  “Fine, but we still need to go.”

  “What’s going on?” Dominick gripped Haatim’s knee and held his gaze to secure his attention. “What happened?”

  Just then, his phone buzzed. He glanced down at the coded alert. Nausea rolled up his through his chest and into his throat, which both tightened up.

  “What?” Haatim asked. “What is it?”

  “The Council has been compromised,” Dominick said. “It’s under attack.”

  “I told you. We need to go,” Haatim said. “We need to get back there and help.”

  “No kidding. Come on. We’ll take the helicopter. Way faster.”

  “What about my mother?” Haatim asked.

  “Leave her,” Dominick said. “The drugs will wear off in a couple of hours, and she’ll be fine. Probably won’t remember a thing.”

  Haatim nodded and headed for the door. Dominick followed, but then hesitated and glanced back. With a shrug, he went back into the room and grabbed the bag of C4 from the floor.

  One thing he’d learned was never to turn down high-powered explosives.

  ***

  Abigail, on the road driving back to the Council building to turn herself in, saw a line of cars speeding in the opposite direction toward town. They came on fast, taking up the entire road and forcing her off to the side.

  Her tires skidded across the loosely packed snow before finally coming to a rest, and she watched the line of cars go past.

  Seven cars in total, heading toward Lausanne. It didn’t make any sense to Abigail. Why would such a large group of people be leaving the Council building in anticipation of the storm?

  The snow came down already, but only a light dusting at this point. Whoever occupied those vehicles would have a hard time getting back down these roads in a couple of hours, so she doubted it was a member of the Council. Who else would warrant such a convoy of vehicles, though?

  Something didn’t feel right.

  And then she noticed small holes in the last few vehicles in line when they passed by. Bullets. Something had happened. The Council had been attacked.

  But by who …?

  … and who’d won?

  Abigail turned her car around and headed up the road behind the convoy. They snaked through the mountains. Something had gone tremendously wrong.

  Her phone rang, and she slipped it out of her pocket. Dominick calling; she answered.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The Council got attacked,” Dominick said. “Someone breached the defenses and did some serious damage.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know any specifics and haven’t been able to reach anyone. I’ve got Haatim, and we’re heading to the airport to get Spinner.”

  “Who did it?”

  “I don’t know, but they used Aram to get inside. We need to get to the hotel and stop them.”

  “It’s too late for that. Whatever they were after,” she said. “I think they got it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A convoy of cars just drove past me, headed back into Lausanne.”

  “How many?”

  “A lot. Been in a firefight.”

  “Can you tail them?”

  “Already am,” she said.

  “All right. We’ll get airborne, and I’ll call you back on the satellite connection. Don’t lose sight of them.”

  “I won’t.” Abigail hung up. Then she turned off her lights and followed the line of cars up the mountain.

  While she drove, a myriad of questions ran through her mind. Who would have attacked the Council, and why? What were they after? Did it have something to do with her? She doubted it, but at this point, she had no way of knowing.

  The biggest question, though, was how they had managed it at all. The council had turned the hotel into a fortress, which meant that it must have been an inside job. Dominick had said that they used Aram to get inside, but she couldn’t believe he would betray them. As much as she hated him, she couldn’t imagine him as a traitor.

  Was Aram still alive?

  Once they reached the outskirts of the city, Abigail turned her lights on again. Enough other vehicles used the road to keep her from looking suspicious, and she worried about someone else hitting her.

  They drove for another ten minutes, into Lausanne, before she realized their destination: the train station. It sat just outside the city center, and the tracks had been designed to withstand even the most extreme of winter weather.

  It made sense; many of the main roads outside the city had closed already in anticipation of the oncoming storm. The train provided one of the few reliable ways into and out of the city at this point.

  Another call came in to her phone. Dominick’s number from inside his chopper. This time, Haatim spoke when she answered, and she could hear the distinct sound of the helicopter starting up in the background.

  “Abi?”

  “I’m here,” she said. “They’re heading for the train station.”

  “Why?”

  “They want to get out of the city,” she said. “There’s a train waiting. We can’t let them get away.”

  “We won’t,” Haatim said. He relayed to Dominick that they were going to the trains, and then he came back to her. “Dominick said to wait somewhere outside the station, and we’ll pick you up.”

  Abigail pulled into the parking lot behind the convoy, which parked near the loading ramp. People piled out of the cars and headed up to the platform. She counted fifteen armed soldiers in total.

  In the center of the group, soldiers half-dragged and half-carried a figure to the train.

  Even beaten and battered, Abigail could recognize her anywhere.

  “Frieda,” she breathed.

  “What?” Haatim asked.

  “They have Frieda,” Abigail said. “She was their target.”

  “Ten minutes out,” Haatim said. “Dominick said we’ll be there in ten minutes. Wait for us.”

&nbs
p; “No,” she said. “There isn’t time.”

  Abigail ended the call and stepped out of her car. The parking lot stood nearly empty and had the lights off. Highly doubtful that this train was scheduled.

  As cautiously as possible, she moved forward, making sure to stay out of sight of the group while she made her way up to the loading platform.

  Twelve railcars lay in a line, and they all looked like passenger cars. The engine released billowing clouds of smoke into the air at the front, and it looked almost ready to leave. Several additional armed guards stood on the platform, looking around and patrolling the area.

  The group she had tailed went to the third railcar from the back and climbed inside, pushing Frieda on in front of them. Abigail got a clear sight of one of them, and then saw that she carried an ornate dagger in her hand.

  The dagger. It had to be the one from Raven’s Peak that Belphegor had gone after. Whoever she was, she must have been the one who’d found it in the tunnels and nearly killed her and Haatim.

  Abigail needed to get on that train. The guards seemed heaviest at the rear, and so she slipped around the building and to the front of the train. The doors all sat open right now. She waited until one of the guards looked in another direction, and then quick-stepped across the platform and slipped inside. The falling snow dampened the sound as she entered the passenger car.

  In the first-class railcar, she looked around for somewhere to hide. It held a fully stocked bar, and she climbed behind it and rested down in the small alcove where a bartender would stand. The lights were on, but it stood empty and silent.

  A few minutes slipped past, and then she heard movement. One of the guards came onto her first-class car, and the doors slid closed. A few seconds later, the train moved underneath her. It started out slow, and then gradually picked up speed as it headed away from the station and Lausanne.

  The guard paced back and forth in the railcar, carrying his rifle and not paying attention to anything. Clearly, he didn’t think anything would happen on this trip, much less that an enemy combatant occupied the same railcar as he.