It wasn't her captor. The giant wyrm couldn't scratch its nose without making an infernal racket, much less enter or leave the cave. But she'd learned over the last few months that plenty of other nasty things inhabited the caves. She scooped up a heavy chalice, ready to use it as a club if some crawly thing skittered down to prey on them. She prepared for the worst as a head popped out from the ledge above.
Her stomach leaped into her throat and she pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
“Peter?” she called out, not daring to believe it.
“Faith?” came his answer. When he frowned, her heart nearly stopped.
“Where's the dragon?” he asked. Her heart lifted again. Then fear set in.
Stay focused, you silly girl!
“You have to go, Peter!” she shouted up at him. “You have to get back to the church! It's gone upstairs. Don't you understand? It’s going after everyone!”
“I'm not leaving without you.”
“There's no time!”
“It doesn't matter anyway. I can't go back the way I came. I have no idea how to get back. No matter what, we're not getting out in a hurry. Might as well get you out of there and bring you with me.”
“How?” she asked. “I've tried climbing a dozen times. The walls are smooth as glass.”
When he flashed that boyish grin back at her she melted inside. For a moment, all thought of dragons and caves fled her mind. She felt like a thirteen year old girl again. But what he said next made her want to marry him on the spot.
“I brought a rope!”
Faith stepped aside as Peter dropped the rope down to her. She secured it to Nicolette and gave a tug. Peter drew the little girl up effortlessly and immediately returned the rope. This time Faith fastened it under her own arms. She watched him as he lifted her out of her prison. His powerful arms tightened with each heave, but his face showed no more exertion than it had for the child. When she finally neared the top, he reached down and clasped her arm. He lifted her straight out with one arm and set her on the solid ground beside him.
The look he gave her pierced through her soul. He touched her hair.
“Blonde,” he mused. “Except the blue still shows on the tips. Faded, though.”
Oh God, why did he have to find me like this?
She turned away, embarrassed, and fussed at her hair. She managed to straighten it some, but the dye job still looked terrible. She smoothed out her dress but couldn't get it entirely unwrinkled. And, of course, she didn't have any makeup.
Time for that later, girl.
She turned back to face him, ready to let all the anger out.
“Now listen here!” She wagged a finger in his face. “I've been down there for three months. I couldn’t exactly get a proper dye job!”
When he smiled it sapped all the anger out of her sails.
“It looks better this way,” he told her. Her jaw hung open. “Much better. Goes well with that exquisite dress, too. I half expected to find you still wearing that blue bikini.”
She snapped her mouth shut and jutted her chin out, simpering at him. He ignored her and turned down to Nicolette.
“Yours?” he quipped.
“By adoption, I suppose,” she answered. “Peluda brought home a stray and let me keep her.”
Peter knelt to face the girl at eye level.
“Nicolette?” he asked.
The little girl trembled and clung to Faith’s leg. But she gave a shy nod at the sound of her name.
“How did you know?” Faith asked in surprise.
Peter dropped to a knee to meet the girl at eye level.
“Your parents are worried sick about you,” he told the French girl. “I’m going to take you home. Would you like that?”
After Faith translated, Nicolette gave him a huge smile and nodded frantically at him.
“Then we’re going. I promise I’ll keep you safe, but it’ll be very scary. Can you be brave for me?”
“Oui! Oui!” came the excited response.
Peter clapped her a high five and rose. He hefted the rope back out of the cavern, untied it, and coiled it back around his chest.
“Keep her close,” he told Faith as he nodded at the little girl. “It’s been kind of crazy in here. I don’t want to lose her by mistake.”
She nodded at him and took Nicolette by the hand.
“Let’s go,” Peter instructed.
Faith followed, but she had questions of her own.
“What about that?” She pointed at the flaming Sword. “Is that yours?”
“No,” Peter answered. “And then again, yes. It’s on a kind of semi-permanent loan.”
“From Medieval Times?”
“From Saint Michael.”
It took her a moment to process that. Her Baptist upbringing hadn’t exactly educated her on saints. When it finally clicked, she stopped dead in her tracks.
“The Saint Michael?” she asked, incredulous.
“Yup.” His casual answer stunned her.
“The archangel Michael?”
“That’s the one.”
“Had it long?” she asked, still incredulous. She couldn’t believe he took it so lightly.
“Only since the night we fought the dragon at Sanford Stadium.”
Her face turned red and she looked away. “Yeah, I don’t actually remember much about that night.”
She could tell that she hadn’t convinced him, but at least he had the grace to let it go. Her behavior that day hadn’t exactly been her best moment. On the other hand, she had been drugged and kidnapped. Peter knew that and probably didn’t think anything of it.
She still didn’t want to talk about it.
“You were pretty out of it,” he agreed. “Abby drugged you hard.”
Anger rose up inside of her, momentarily boiling away the shame.
“That girl and I are going to have a reckoning when I get home,” Faith declared.
“Take a number,” Peter told her. “There’s a long line ahead of you. And you’re not likely to line jump ahead of the US government.”
“No,” she allowed. “I suppose not.”
“Or a billionaire,” he added as an afterthought.
“Yeah, I’d guess Jim is pretty pissed.”
This time Peter stopped.
“Jim’s dead,” he answered quietly. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “He saved us all.”
“Jim?” Faith replied feebly. She heard a tiny sob escape her lips before she pulled herself back together. Peter walked onward, and she followed. But she still didn’t comprehend. “Then who?”
“Michael inherited all his money.”
“Michael?” she answered in disbelief. “Katie’s fiancé?”
“Yup.”
“And if anyone’s got a better claim on Abby’s hide than you do, it’s him.”
“I suppose so.” A moment later she continued quietly, “I treated him so horribly, Peter. I didn’t know what she’d done, I swear.”
“Then you do remember some,” he noted. She turned away in shame. Deep down she knew that gave him all the answer he needed. “Of course you didn’t know, Faith. None of us did. None of us could have. He didn’t even know.”
“I suppose,” she said. “That doesn’t -”
A shrieking kobold cut her off. Nicolette shrieked back at it. Peter roared and counter attacked. Then a dozen of the creatures rushed in at once. When they knocked him to the ground, Faith realized the newest cries were her own.
Chapter 14
“Kobolds?” Gabriel blurted as the hordes pushed through the side doors. He charged into the fray. Knowing he wouldn't have time to reload in the midst of the mob, he wielded the harpoon gun like a bayonet. He stabbed left and right at the little creatures that surrounded him. “Where did they come from?”
“Worry about that after we stop the stampede!” Conor snapped back. He waded into the horde on the other side, wielding his actual spear. Its greater length and heft gave him an a
dvantage that his Texan friend lacked. With so many kobolds rushing into the sanctuary, it didn't help much. He tried to keep a bubble of space around him, but the sprites outflanked him with sheer numbers.
Stefan barely hesitated. Gabriel could make out the tense look on his face, but the friar only faltered for a brief moment before continuing with the mass. He simply raised his voice even louder, booming over the tumultuous din.
The congregation, on the other hand, came to their aid. The Texan caught an old couple out of the corner of his eye, beating on the kobolds near him with hymnals they'd brought from their pews. From the sound of it, others had gone to aid Conor. Even Deacon Dan joined the fight, grabbing a candlestick from the altar and using it to keep a space clear around the Friar.
Gabriel returned his attention to the immediate fight. He stabbed the nearest beast straight through the neck, destroying its trachea. He tried to withdraw the harpoon, but it stuck inside the creature as he wrested the gun away. For the next few moments he had to make do with a blunt weapon instead of the blade he'd been wielding.
He swung the harpoon gun right and left, bashing kobolds in the face with the butt stock and thrusting the smaller business end of the archaic weapon into pressure points, soft tissues, and eye sockets. It didn't take much to bring any single creature down. They were, after all, a mere three feet tall. Gabriel had known larger and stronger seven-year-olds. But the large mass still threatened to overwhelm him, even with the locals lending their support.
The old man pressed in to stand back-to-back with Gabriel. Despite the Frenchman's age and his hunched back, Gabriel felt strength in those wiry muscles. They covered each other’s flanks as they took down the creatures one at a time. By joining together in a steady, constant push they managed to clear the area behind them and return their focus to the doors.
A moment later, the old Frenchman's wife appeared on the other side of the horde. Seizing on their new tactical advantage, Gabriel and the old man reversed the flanking maneuver. The old man stepped into a new position, forming a triangle with his wife and the Texan. Despite the gross numerical mismatch, they managed to effectively surround and contain the kobolds. Gabriel played the hammer, while the locals played the anvil.
Stefan's voice rang out loud and clear over the tumult.
“Hoc est enim corpus meum, quod pro vobis tradétur.” Gabriel knew those words well, from many years at mass. For this is my body, which has been given up for you. The friar held up the now-consecrated host. Almost done, the Texan told himself. Now we just need the wine.
Knowing he only needed to hold a few more minutes, he felt a renewed energy take hold of him. As his friend continued in loud Latin, Gabriel let out a primal scream and charged. The parishioners followed him. They managed to force the remaining kobolds out the door, slamming it closed behind them.
He leaned against the door, fighting to slow his panting into something resembling normal breathing. He took a moment to survey the room. The two teen athletes still held the main doors as more drakes pounded on the other side of the heavy oak. A handful of parishioners stood by their side, providing aid. He nodded approvingly at their valor. Meanwhile, Conor and his crew pushed the last of the kobolds on their side out the door as well. Gabriel heaved a sigh of relief.
The feeling didn’t last long.
* * *
Peter tried to get to his feet, but the kobolds overwhelmed him. They grabbed at him everywhere, hands holding him down. He supposed he knew what Gulliver felt like now. At least this time he’d managed to hold onto his weapon.
Faith stood over him in that exotic blue dress, trying to keep the little girl safe. Had he not been overrun by evil munchkins at the moment. His vantage point on the ground gave him an interesting view of the shapely blonde. It took serious force of will to keep the various jiggling and bouncing from distracting him, but he managed.
With his elbow and shoulder pinned to the floor, Peter couldn't get any leverage as he flailed the Sword about. Yet even the merest touch of the holy steel seemed to burn the kobolds. Their skin gave a hiss every time the blade made contact. After he smacked one or two of them with it, he managed to get his forearm free. They clawed and pinched and beat at him, but once he had movement in his sword arm they proved little real threat.
He cleared some space around himself and rolled sideways onto his knees. A particularly brave kobold charged at him. Peter popped back to his feet and swung. With his full movement restored, the Sword made quick work of the creature.
Seeing the remains of their comrade, the others lost their courage. A wave of panic started at the front and propagated throughout the mob. Their little army broke, and it broke hard. They ran back the way they'd come. Peter rushed after them.
“Come on!” he called out to Faith. She hesitated but scooped up the little girl and followed him.
“Why are we following them?” she shouted.
“Because it’s the way out!” he replied. Well, he’d come in that way. And there hadn’t been any other exits. “And it’s better to chase than to be chased!”
The little critters slowed and then stopped as they reached the tunnel Peter had entered through. Then they turned to face him. As he closed the gap, the young knight could see why. Reinforcements streamed out of the tunnel, supplementing the cohort already here and renewing their courage.
“You were saying?” Faith chided.
Peter gave her an apologetic look and a shrug.
“Stay close!” he called out. Lacking any better options, he picked a direction and ran. He chose to go right, hugging the wall of the cavern. “Look for another exit!”
Faith panted behind him, visibly tiring already from carrying the child. He assumed that she’d heard him.
“There!” she called out a moment later.
He followed her gaze but couldn’t make anything out. She must have incredible eyesight. Or maybe she’d just spent enough time in the darkness for her eyes to adjust.
Then he saw the massive swarm of diminutive sprices close in before them. He spurred her onward, pushing the girls in the new tunnel before him. He spun on his toes as he entered, planted himself in a defensive stance, and waited. He prepared to defend the cavern, knowing that he could cut them down easily now that he only had to deal with a few at a time. But there were so many of them.
Suddenly, there weren’t any at all.
Chapter 15
“They’re gone.” The surprise Peter heard in Faith’s simple statement echoed what he felt himself.
“That’s not good,” he said.
“It’s not?” she asked.
“Why’d they leave?”
“Um… I don’t know.”
“Exactly.” He scanned the cave for other threats. Their apparent absence did little to reassure him. “Oh. Crap.”
“Let’s move!” he called. Faith gave him a look of relief as he took Nicolette from her arms. Two minutes later, struggling to keep up with his harsh pace, the look faded. The way she struggled worried him. He guessed she hadn’t done much cardio over the last few months, and God only knew what her captor had fed her.
But she never uttered a single word of complaint. She merely put one fatigued foot in front of the other and kept going. He respected that. And right now, stopping would present worse consequences than pushing her too hard.
“You’ve got this,” he told her gently, encouragingly. “Don’t suck the air in. Push it out. Let it relax back in.” She nodded, not wasting her breath on a verbal answer. He approved of that, too. Even better, she listened. It didn’t exactly make everything easy, but he could see her get her breathing under control again. A simple breathing trick wouldn’t let her run forever, especially since she hadn’t spent years practicing it. But it would buy them a bit more time. It would have to do.
He’d make it do.
Peter stumbled out into the next cavern before he’d even realized the tunnel had ended. Like the gigantic room that had held Faith, this chamber, too
towered above them. But he could actually wrap his head around this somewhat smaller space. The room presented two other exits and a stone altar-like table off to one side. But those took secondary importance in his mind.
Instead, Peter focused on the two dozen kobolds that all turned their gaze on him. One of them pointed at him and shouted. Three others drew their weapons with a hiss. The rest froze like deer in headlights.
Peter didn’t hesitate. He set Nicolette gently on the floor without even slowing his forward motion. His large frame therefore carried substantial momentum behind it when he connected Sword-first with the mass of flesh.
The kobolds collapsed like bowling pins. He howled at them and waved the fiery blade over his head a few times. They scrambled to their feet and ran out the exit on Peter’s right. He followed them to the exit, shouting and screaming as he waved the blazing Sword high above his head. But he stopped at the doorway, opting to let them go.
“You took it kind of easy on them,” Faith noted. Her voice carried no reprimand, merely curiosity and a hint of good humor.
“I don’t like to kill if I can avoid it,” Peter replied.
“Even little demonic faerie creatures?”
“Even kobolds, if I can avoid it. Heck, even spiders.”
“There you go too far!” Her smile lit up her face. Peter gave her a dorky grin in return.
A sudden clanking noise off to the side snapped them back to the present. Peter pushed Faith behind him. She scooped up Nicolette in her arms, trying to shield the little girl the way Peter shielded them both.
When Peter finally realized what - or rather who - had caught his attention, he laughed. He felt Faith peeking out from behind him and waved her around. Her face darkened when she saw the scene.
Father Quentin Delacroix huddled in a dark corner, quaking in fear. He held his knees tight between his arms and rocked back and forth like a terrified child. Tears streamed down his face. Something about it didn't look quite right.
“I didn't want to,” the priest stuttered. “I didn't want to have anything to do with it. It’s been in my head. I can’t get him out! Get him out! Make him leave me alone!”
Vigil: An Urban Fantasy Thriller Page 6
