by Celia Kyle
I’m all for swinging bats.
“I’m fine,” I crossed my arms and pulled away. Ellie’s face fell, her lips curving into a well-practiced pout. Like the rest of my extended pixie relatives, she didn’t understand my desire for privacy. That just wasn’t a thing in their world.
“All right.” she hung her head. “If you change your mind…”
Sometimes I wished real life pixies were as small as Tinkerbell. Then I could swat Ellie away like an annoying bug.
But she wasn’t much taller than an adolescent girl. I could probably swat her across the room if I tried.
Hmmm…
When the play finally ended I headed backstage with the other parents. I found Bry while he was changing out of his costume. I forced a smile, assuming my parental duty and pretending I had enjoyed the play just like everyone else. In truth, I couldn’t remember much. Something about Santa being stuck in a chimney and going to a health club to lose weight before finally asking a witch for a slimming spell that went awry.
Maybe.
Or that could have been all in my head. It would be funny though, right?
“Hey, kiddo. That was awesome.” I tousled Bry’s hair.
“We sucked.” He scrunched his nose.
“What? No way! Don’t talk like that.”
He tossed his pointy elf hat on the ground. Making a brownie pretend to be an elf probably hadn’t been a good call on the director’s part. Brownies were way better than elves.
“Yeah, we did. Maurie Maxwell forgot half his lines ‘cause he’s a stupid-head.”
My son, the genius brownie who needed to learn more insults. Obviously his education was lacking in some areas.
I snorted. “That just means Maurie Maxwell sucks. Not you.”
I grinned at him, although my smile fled when I spotted Maurie’s mother glaring at me from across the room. Well, there went my most recent attempt at playing well with the other parents. Then again, I didn’t give a shit about her. She was a total bitch.
“C’mon kid, let’s go.” I put a hand on Bry’s shoulder and steered him toward the door. “I thought for dinner tonight we could—“
Listen to brownies and pixies scream in pain and fear.
Screams erupted outside. With one hand on Bry, I reached for a weapon with the other, grabbing wildly at the empty space where my swords should have been before I remembered that I’d left them all in the SUV. The school had a thing with me bringing sharp, pointy things around the kids. Whatever. I hadn’t been too worried. This was a fucking elementary school play for On High’s sake. It was the last place I’d expect trouble.
Which was precisely why it had shown up, of course.
“Stay here,” I told Bry as I moved toward the door. “Find your teacher and stay down. Do not come outside. Mommy will come back and get you. I just have to kill a few things and then we can get some ice cream.”
Bry’s eyes remained on me, wide and watery. I wished I had more time to reassure him, but there was trouble brewing outside those doors, and right then, saving lives needed to come before sniffles.
Plus, I needed to keep whatever was out there from coming inside to hurt my son.
Anger burned in my chest, and my wolf’s rumbling growl rolled through me in waves. My fingers tingled, hellfire nipping the tips as if Hell itself wanted to come out and play.
I pushed past the crowd of panicked children and parents. At least I was taller than all of them—not a normal occurrence - which made clearing a path that much easier.
“Out of the way! Move! Get inside and stay down!”
On my way out the door I grabbed the sign that announced the play. The Joint School Performance of Santa’s Summer Diet.
I snapped the sign off and hefted the metal pole and stand. It was poorly balanced but had enough weight to it to make a good bludgeon, but as soon as I got outside, I wished I had chosen something a little sharper.
A lot sharper.
A dozen ghouls swarmed the front lawn, attacking the parents and children that had been too slow to escape. Several lay wounded on the ground already while others were held in claws while the undead monsters fed. More people fled into the parking lot while ghouls gave chase. Before I could react, several ghouls tackled helpless people before they could reach their cars.
Blooming Aster, Bry’s teacher, stood by the door, trembling in horror. I grabbed the small woman’s arm and shook her. “Call Alrick!” She blinked at me, shock making her thought processes slow. “Alrick! Call him. Get him here, now!”
Blooming Aster knew me, my family, and the trouble that sometimes followed. She had all my fathers on speed dial.
She nodded and raced inside to make the call. I hoped Papa Al and the pack could get here in time.
Hellfire surged inside me as I rushed into the fray. I swung the metal pole as hard as I could. Dizziness assaulted me just as a surge of adrenaline invigorated my body. It was like I was drugged, and my senses twisted, making me borderline delirious while I got a fierce boost of energy. It surged through my arms as I swung and connected with a ghoul’s head. I smashed through its skull as though I was crushing a watermelon with a sledgehammer.
Gallagher had nothing on me.
The ghoul stumbled and released the poor brownie woman it had captured. It clawed at the bloody stump of its neck and swiped its claws at me, making for a blindly clumsy attack that I deflected with ease.
On High damned undead. Decapitation didn’t always kill them, but at least it was blind and deaf now.
I slammed the pole on the ghoul again and again, breaking its arms and several ribs. I swept its legs and knocked it to the ground and then bashed both femurs. The ghoul twitched, but it was too broken to be a threat now.
It would be better to dismember the creature so the dark magic that held it together was neutralized. Bludgeoning was far less effective, but I’d left my sword in my other jacket.
I rushed at the next ghoul and dodged its claws when it came forward. I ducked and darted around him, vaguely aware that I was moving faster and hitting harder than normal. Or were they just slow and weak? The burning in my side assured me this newfound strength came from the darkness seeping into my veins from my wound. It was a mixed blessing. The added power would get me through the fight, but it also meant the magic was poisoning my blood more and more.
That pointed to long-term trouble
For the moment, I’d take short-term advantage.
Anguished screams echoed through the parking lot as several more victims were pinned to the ground. There was no way that I could get to them in time. Not with a trio of ghouls rushing at me, their movements well coordinated. I caught a glimpse of the same intelligence in their eyes. The one I’d seen before.
Our mystery Big Bad wasn’t just creating ghouls. He was tying them together so they could fight as a unit.
They came at me from three directions and I only had a split second to react. I’d only have enough speed and strength to block one, maybe two, of them. I’d simply have to protect my vital organs and hope for the best.
I blocked an attacker’s claws with the metal pole. It grabbed the rod and yanked it from my hands, preventing me from using it to fend off his buddies. I kicked and connected with the second attacker’s head, sending him to the ground. Then I could only brace myself for the third ghoul’s attack.
But the attack I expected didn’t come. I heard the distinct sound of metal cutting through flesh along with the burning stench of necrotic tissues being scorched and sizzled. Beneath that foul smell was an almost sweet, fresh scent. Like a spring breeze on a warm day.
There was only one thing that was so appealing while burning through the unholy flesh of the undead. A sword imbued with divine light.
I knocked one of the ghouls aside and glanced behind me, Sam’s name on my lips. But it wasn’t my gel lover standing there. Instead, I found one of his compatriots.
“Behind you!” the gel shouted and I ducked low while he swung
his glowing white blade over my head.
It sank into the neck of the ghoul at my back, the blade sizzling as it connected with the unholy magic that bound the ghoul. With a few more quick slashes, the creature’s head and arms fell to the ground, oozing blood that crackled with blue light.
I didn’t have time to thank my angelic savior. There were still enemies to fight and lives to save. We battled our way through the rest of the ghouls as their reinforcements began to rise.
More than two-dozen innocents were struck down during the time it took me to join the battle. Now those poor dead souls were rising to their feet, their bodies transforming as the crackling blue light spread across their skin and sank into their flesh. Their skin shriveled and stretched taut across their bones while wicked claws grew from their fingertips. They rushed us before their transformations were even complete, compelled by their unseen master to join the battle.
This guy was really on my shit list now.
The gel and I fought them back as best we could, but the mindless creatures pushed forward. I swung my metal pole and tossed balls of hellfire at our attackers between swings. I stood back to back with the angel, his glowing white blade hacking the ghouls to pieces. But even while we fought off the ghouls that came at us, half of their number ran in the other direction, chasing the fleeing families.
If we didn’t reach them in time, they’d be killed as well—only to rise again to add to the ranks of our foes faster than we could drop them.
Fuck. My. Life.
Hope quickly fled, leaving behind the pure animalistic desire to simply survive. But just as that spark was smothered by exhaustion, it flared to life once more.
Howls in the distance, racing closer with every beat of my heart.
“More foes?” The gel looked toward the direction of the howls.
“Backup.”
The pack had arrived.
Two-dozen monstrous gray and black wolves raced down the street, intercepting the ghouls before they could claim any more victims. They took the creatures to the ground, growling and snarling as they sank their fangs into undead flesh. The things tried to fight back, but they were outnumbered. Even a ghoul’s supernatural strength was no match for the raw, feral power of a werewolf.
The wolves made short work of the remaining ghouls, and I let out a sigh of relief. I released the pole and dropped to the ground, struggling to catch my breath.
After the last ghoul was dispatched, the gel sheathed his sword, drawing my attention.
I glanced at him—tall, blond, and well, angelic. He could have moonlighted as a romance novel cover model, although the stern set to his jaw told me he was all business.
“Thanks,” my voice was hardly more than a rasp.
He nodded. “I was merely doing my duty.”
“I didn’t realize On High sent anyone to check on things.”
“I wasn’t sent by On High.”
“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow. He didn’t smell or look fallen—pure as the driven snow and all that. But it was strange for any angel to act without orders from the big guy. Gels weren’t big on the whole free will thing, that was reserved for mortals.
“Samkiel requested I assist you.”
“Ahh.” A wry grin twisted my lips. “He did, did he?”
That was my Sam. Always trying to protect me even when he was in another part of the world and couldn’t come to me himself.
The gel nodded. “He sends his love, and his regret that his current assignment does not allow him to be here himself. He would have joined you if—“
I waved a hand to cut him off. “Don’t worry about it. I already told him I don’t want him risking his wings for me. He’s got a job to do.”
Even if success means he’ll leave me when it’s done.
“Indeed.” The gel’s glance slid over my body and he frowned. “You’re wounded?”
I followed his stare. All the exertion had torn my wound open and blood stained my shirt. “Eh, it’s from the other day.”
“Allow me.” He knelt by my side and pressed his hand to the wound. A surge of cold rushed through me and I inhaled a sharp breath as my muscles tensed.
A gel was trying to heal the Devil’s niece. I wondered how On High would take that.
“This is bad.” He kept his hand on my side for a few more moments before pulling back. “It is beyond my ability to fully heal you, though I was at least able to close the wound.”
“Thanks.” I touched the area gently. It didn’t hurt much, but the blue light still glowed and… it looked like it had spread. Thin veins of light snaked under my skin as if the magic was trying to reach deeper into my flesh.
That was something I didn’t want to ponder at that moment. “What’s your name?”
“Sorush. Or Rush, if you prefer.” He offered me a hand and I took it so he could help me to my feet.
We walked around the area to check on the parents and children. The majority were scared, but fine, but so many lives had been lost. I wanted to offer them some comfort. Tell them that I’d bring the person or people responsible for this to justice.
But I still didn’t know who was behind this mess.
I stared at a father leaning over the body of his child, sobbing over his loss. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but moments like this make me wonder why the Big Guy didn’t get off his ass and do a little something sooner.”
“You just need to keep the faith.”
“Faith? I’m not a huge George Michael fan.” I snorted. I’d never had faith in much of anything in my life, least of all in the Big Guy.
“The Father does not control the lives of men. That is the point of his gift. They are free to live their lives as they will. It is what gives them meaning.”
I gestured at the destruction. “Meaning isn’t all that great when you get murdered by ghouls.”
He frowned. “Mortal life is only precious because it ends.”
My mouth twisted into a grimace. I suppose he had a point, but I still didn’t like it.
And I intended to do whatever I could to make sure no more of those ‘precious’ lives were lost on my watch.
Chapter Six
My condition kept getting worse. It had been days, and now I was having trouble staying upright. I tried to stick it out and continue working, and did whatever I could to hide my symptoms from Jezze and everyone else.
They wanted me in bed, resting, but I needed to stay active. For one thing, I couldn’t track down our mystery villain from bed. For another, sitting around while Sorsha doted on me would drive me insane. Then the ghouls wouldn’t be the problem anymore. It would be me.
I spoke with all the customers who came into the bar, asking if they’d heard anything about the attacks or the cause. Everyone had heard, all right, but it was only rumors. Nothing concrete. I collected every lead, regardless of the likelihood that they were dead ends. I’d take whatever I could for now.
I checked in with Sorsha every night so she could look me over.
The prognosis wasn’t good. By the third day after the attack at the school, the sickly blue veins stretched from the wound, up my ribs, across my back and stomach and down one leg. While her remedies had slowed the spread, she seemed no closer to a cure.
“Give it to me straight,” I demanded while she applied a fresh poultice. The area had turned numb and I could hardly feel her fingers as she spread the paste over my skin.
She looked up at me, wariness in her gaze, and for a moment I expected her to give me a lame excuse mixed with a dash of false hope. Instead, she straightened and met my stare. “You’re dying.”
It was probably hard for her to say. It was sure as hell hard to hear.
“No shit. How long?”
I needed to know how much longer I could hunt the asshole that had done this to me.
“I can’t be sure.” She shook her head and picked up a chart where she’d taken notes on the spread of the disease with her other patients. “Without treatment, mos
t of the infected turn into one of those things almost instantly. Even with treatment, no one has survived this long. You’re only still here because of your unique physiology.”
I wasn’t sure which of my five fathers to thank for living this long, but they all probably gave me a little bit of something. The purity of my unicorn father was keeping the poison out of my blood. The endurance of Father Earth giving me strength. The power of my werewolf father keeping me on my feet even when I felt weak. Maybe even the sheer stubbornness of my Crusader father making me too stubborn to give up when I should have seen the writing on the wall already.
“Take a guess.”
Sorsha released a long sigh. “At this rate, maybe another week.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, staring at the floor instead of at her. A week to live. After being on this Earth for over six hundred years, this sudden expiration date was hard to absorb. I didn’t want to believe it was true. I didn’t feel like I was dying. Sure, there was some weakness and nausea, and I kept having dizzy spells, but it didn’t feel like something I couldn’t walk off. Maybe she was exaggerating. Sorsha had never been one to be pessimistic, but people changed, right?
“There’s nothing else you can do?”
“I’ve tried everything and I’m not going to stop looking, but…”
I gave her a wry grin. “But I’d better get my affairs in order.”
She touched my arm with trembling fingertips, a sad look in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Caith.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be sorry.” I hopped off the bed and headed for the door. “Be working. Even if you don’t find a cure in time to help me, you can help others.”
She nodded. “I will. Don’t worry.”
I headed to my SUV and sat in the driver’s seat for a while. I stared at nothing, mind muddled and too dull for any thoughts to take root. My condition was getting worse. I grew sicker and dizzier with every second that passed and soon I didn’t think I would be able to stand under my own power.
I’d die in bed like some invalid.
