Two separate trains of thought spun out in my head. The first was shock at Xavier’s sudden demise. The Inquisitor and I were far from close, but I’d genuinely come to respect him. The bulk of my mind, however, was focused on how to get out of this. If I distracted Treggen, maybe Megan could conjure her transdimensional pocket cannon and—
“As for you two,” the malevolent bowling ball hissed, “you will sit quite still.” A green beam blossomed and settled between Megan’s breasts. “You wouldn’t want to risk breaking your promise, would you, Corinthos?”
I swallowed. Of course Treggen would know about the promise. He’d been riding along inside Megan’s head for who knew how long. He’d probably been there when I’d made it, when I’d promised Megan that she would be fine.
Megan, for her part, had assumed her diplomat’s mask. “What is it you want, Treggen?” she asked, her voice level and cool.
“What do I want?” Treggen repeated. “Now, that question has an undefined scale to it. I want a grilled cheese sandwich, made with sourdough bread and perhaps a side of waffle fries. I also want a stomach and mouth with which to enjoy said sandwich, as I no longer have those.”
What the hell? This wasn’t the Treggen I knew. It sounded like he had a screw knocked loose.
“I meant what do you want from us?” Megan asked, her tone still even and controlled.
Treggen laughed. “You are a darling, Megan Hayes. I know how terrified you must be right now. You only display that level of calm when you’re nearly crawling out of your skin. I’ve lived in that pretty little head of yours, I know every trick you have, every tactic you’re capable of, and I know you’re cycling through them all right now. So I will explain something. I am not interested in the Hoosac Tunnel cloning facility. Xavier was right, it was a point of interest for me for a time, but now that I have this shell, I no longer need it.
“What do I want? Oh, I have a great many things I want, and many more things I must attend to, now that I am free of you. Do you know how inane it is inside this woman’s head, Corinthos? Everything in her mind is neatly boxed into little categories: Cross-stitching and field hockey and negotiating tactics and firearms. Her only ambition is to lead the Caulborn someday, and for genuinely altruistic purposes. She has no hidden depths, no angst, no ulterior motives; that overly perky outlook is one hundred percent genuine, and it’s a miracle she doesn’t give herself cavities. I nearly went mad.” The bead of light grew brighter. “And don’t even think about using extradimensional energy, Corinthos. I can sense it now. You try to create a portal, and I will kill her.”
“You haven’t answered her question,” I said, releasing the threads of extradimensional energy I’d been gathering. I’d done it on reflex, even though I knew that Chuck’s wards wouldn’t let me portal. “What do you want?”
“Well, despite the fact that Ms. Hayes is an overly saccharine individual, I believe she still has her uses. Two of them in fact. The first, of course, is that she provides me a way to finally remove you from the equation once and for all.”
And with that, the beam of light on Megan’s chest intensified and blasted clean out her back. Megan’s eyes barely had time to widen before she collapsed and slid out of her chair.
“No!” I screamed, my chair toppling over as I leaped across the table toward her. No, no, no. No, I could get to her, I could reach her, I could fix this. Golden healing light was already enveloping my hands as I stretched out for her.
Something snaked around my leg and pulled me back. Somewhere in the distance I heard bells tolling. I hit the floor face first, Megan’s limp body just a few feet away. The healing energy was illuminating under the table, casting wild shadows on the stiff industrial carpet. The hole in her chest was the size of a baseball, and her sweater was smoldering. There wasn’t much blood; Treggen’s beam had cauterized the wound, as it had with Xavier’s, and the sickly sweet smell of roasted flesh and burned wool and Megan’s perfume assailed my nostrils.
I tried to conjure a portal, to put the other end so I could touch Megan, but the extradimensional energy fizzled and died, blocked by the wards. I flopped over onto my back as whatever was wrapped around my leg began pulling me away from Megan. It was a thick, black iron chain, pitted and rusted. I struck at it with kobold fire, to no avail. My Olympian steel switchblade dropped into my hand and I severed the chain with one frantic blow, then scrambled to get my feet under me. I hadn’t even stood up when four more chains burst up from the floor, wrapping around my wrists and ankles. I strained, cursing, yelling for help, but Xavier’s wards prevented anyone outside the room from hearing me.
The bells tolled again.
On the table, Treggen was laughing. By the door, Xavier’s body lay in a crumpled heap. But all I could see were Megan’s ice-blue eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. The chains were pulling me toward a spinning black vortex that had appeared on the wall closest to me. The smells of brimstone and rot gave me a really good idea of where I was going. And the bells tolled again.
The chains constricted sharply around my limbs, and I cried out as my bones cracked and I crashed to the ground. I struggled to my knees, already feeling my healing factor kicking in, but that brief delay had been enough for the chains to pull me into the vortex, and then I was falling down, down, down.
Into the Pit.
Author’s Note
I hope you’ve enjoyed Nightfall. If you did, please consider leaving a review or shooting an email to
[email protected].
Cheers,
Nicholas Olivo
Also by Nicholas Olivo
The Caulborn Series
Imperium
Krampusnacht
Sync
Promise
Shadows
Fractures
Nightfall
Torment
The Doc Graystone Adventures
Red Runes
A Watery Grave
Masks of Madness
The Jewel of Shambhala
The Crimson Mantis
Nightfall: Caulborn 5 Page 25
