by Michael Todd
Dark Is The Night
War Of The Damned Book Three
Michael Todd
Michael Anderle
Laurie Starkey
Dark Is The Night (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018 Michael Todd, Michael Anderle, and Laurie Starkey
Cover by Ryn Katryn Digital Art
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
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Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, July 2018
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Author Notes - Laurie Starkey
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Dark Is The Night
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Dedication
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
to Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
to Live the Life We Are
Called.
— Michael Anderle
1
As the fires raged across the rugged lava-covered landscape of hell, Moloch leaned back in his office chair with his feet up on his desk, munching on caramel-drizzled turtles. The turtles were alive, just like every other creature he devoured, and he liked the way their feet tickled the roof of his mouth. He chuckled as he swallowed. He much preferred turtles over kittens. The fur and their tiny little dewclaws always got stuck between his back teeth.
He picked the last one up and turned it back and forth in his hand, his eyes crinkling with amusement as its feet waved uselessly in the air and its little head poked in and out of its shell. He swirled the caramel over it, the turtle’s struggles causing it to plop over one eye. Moloch caught the drip with a swipe of his sandpaper tongue and tossed the turtle in before the caramel landed on his carpet.
“Hmmm, next time I’ll have to add a few nuts.” He rubbed his distended belly and let out a large belch. “Or maybe not.”
He pulled his feet down from the desk and stood up, then wiped his mouth with a small cloth napkin as he walked over to his special fireplace. He ran his fingers over the tiny writhing souls, but he could take none of his usual joy in their silent screams as their essences flickered like candles in the breeze. Usually, their terror cheered him right up, but the loss of the last several battles and the human’s increasing successes in tactical warfare against the demons had gotten to him. He found no solace in anything these days.
Moloch strolled over to the window and stared at the lava pits with his hands behind his back. The souls below toiled without respite in the fire and brimstone. Their cries of pain mingled with the cracking of whips, and even that didn’t move him. He rubbed his chin, thinking about everything that had happened to bring him to this low point.
It was all down to that pain in the ass, Lilith.
His lip curled. Katie and Lilith had become his biggest nemeses. They showed up every time he set a plan in motion and destroyed everything every time his demons had the upper hand. He had come to the conclusion that once they showed up, the battle was pretty much over.
Moloch wasn’t going to let one failed plan—not even his plan, at that—get in the way of achieving his goal. He may have sacrificed his broader intentions for T’Chezz when he’d goaded him into facing Lilith, but he’d considered it worthwhile. The agony of having been driven batshit crazy by T’Chezz’s complete failure as a demon had rolled away with the sight of his severed head bouncing along the street like some kind of grotesque tumbleweed.
He had also begun to wonder if Lilith was the only one to be concerned about.
Moloch had been so busy reveling in having T’Chezz out of his hair that the finality of the large demon’s death had escaped him. However, as time passed and even Lucifer could find no sign of his soul lurking in the deepest depths of hell, Moloch’s thoughts had turned to Katie. He wondered just how powerful she really was. He had underestimated her—not a mistake he would usually make.
T’Chezz’s entire plan had centered on the conviction that taking control of the United States would drop the rest of the world into his hands soon after. To the demons the United States wasn’t just a superpower, it was the superpower. However, the pushback they were getting just confirmed to Moloch that it hadn’t been the perfect plan T’Chezz’d believed it was.
It was time to change his tactics and advance to the next stage. He refused to spend the next millennium trying to outsmart the humans while they increasingly advanced in technology and tactical know-how.
He walked purposefully over to the table and examined the map of Earth laid out before him and picked up the small bowl filled with tiny souls he was using for stick pins. The souls already in use screamed fruitlessly from their positions on different countries across the map while he considered his chosen targets.
While T’Chezz’s plan had looked good initially, Moloch had always planned to branch out. T’Chezz’s downfall had simply brought his plans forward. The souls marked the places across the world he would send his demons to sow chaos. This would not only allow him to conquer new territory, but take America’s focus away from what was happening on their home soil.
The US would have to be won by stealth, since any show of strength would be met with a show of even greater strength by the Americans. Moloch understood that now.
He would take advantage of their desire to protect others instead.
Moloch plucked one of the souls from the bowl and tapped the shrieking woman�
�s head to his lips as he looked around the map, then nodded with an evil smile. He narrowed one eye, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, and threw the soul like a dart. It embedded itself in the map in the midst of the others marking the first wave of attacks.
He put the bowl down and smiled at his handiwork, thrilled to be moving things along, albeit ahead of schedule. He couldn’t sit around and wait forever, and he couldn’t just let Lilith and Katie destroy the plan he’d spent so long cultivating. It was no longer just about taking the Earth. It was about revenge, perseverance, and how weak he looked every time he reported a failed incursion to Lucifer. He had no intention of quitting before he’d wiped the hateful smirk off the face of whichever of them was driving Katie’s body when he took them down.
The global incursions would bring the humans to their knees; he knew it. On top of that, it would distract that annoying bitch Lilith and her flesh-puppet, and give him the opportunity to finish what he’d started. He needed to turn their attention away from the US. The military was giving him a run for his money, but he thought he could handle them.
It was the bitch and her play-toy who were really fucking things up for him. The sooner they were out of the fucking country, the better.
He sat back down at his desk and rubbed his palms together, still looking at the map. The soul-pins peppered the stained chart with tiny points of light. An evil smirk moved over his lips as he imagined all the carnage he was about to cause. There was no way that Lilith could show up at all of the battles.
He would stretch her ability and wear her into the ground with unrelenting attacks spread over huge portions of the Earth. Stripping the US of its defenses one layer at a time in the process would be the icing on the cake. And if Lilith somehow managed to withstand all of that?
“No matter,” he murmured. “There are always the Leviathans.”
Katie leaned toward the empty donut box. She and Angie, the woman she had saved from an abusive partner and who was now her assistant, were sitting on the couch in her suite at the Stewart Hotel. Small crystals of sugar fell from her lips unnoticed as she shook her head at the television, where the news was running a playback of yesterday’s carnage.
She hadn’t known there had been so many cameras, and at so many damn angles. The corner of Angie’s eye twitched every time a demon took a bite out of a human, but Katie didn’t respond. She figured Angie would have to toughen up. Besides, she was too busy staring at her ass at a hundred different angles on the screen.
The footage shrank into a corner of the screen behind the news anchor. “Sources say the hero of this story, like so many other tales in recent times, is none other than the elusive Katie, of Katie’s Killers. Despite the hot-button issue the legality of such a group of mercenaries has become in recent months, it is clear that without Katie on the job the President might have fallen victim to the horrific events that unfolded in Times Square yesterday.”
The news anchor turned it over to the weather guy, and Katie zoned out. Pandora was still pissed about the night before. She was too engrossed in chastising Katie to pay any attention to what she had been staring at.
The girls had gone out to the club the night before, just to relax and let their hair down. Katie’s objective had been to enjoy winning the battle and saving the President. Pandora, however, had been on the hunt, and Katie hadn’t let her get away with picking up just anyone.
“She could have had her pick of the hot hunks there last night, but noooo! I have to get stuck with Ms. Picky.”
Angie lifted an eyebrow and Katie rolled her eyes. “That was Pandora. Apparently, she had something to say. Go ahead, Queen P, we’re on a commercial anyway.”
Pandora didn’t need a second invitation. “She just has to have all those annoying little scruples and shit. I mean, what’s a wedding ring? It didn’t mean anything to the guys, quite obviously. They all wanted her. She could have had her pick. Hell, I wanted her to want them right back, but noooo, Little Ms. Principles went home alone, as always.”
Katie put up her hand, pushing Pandora out of her throat and stopping Angie before she could say a word.
The newscaster came back on the screen to continue her report. “If you are just joining us, we are still dissecting the shocking events of the last thirty-six-hours. Yesterday afternoon, three large demons attacked a full-capacity crowd in Times Square during the President’s procession.”
The newscaster paused while the screen flashed over footage of the happy flag-waving crowd taken before the attack.
“The day started with an air of excitement. People from all over the city came out to get a glimpse of the President’s motorcade as it passed through Times Square. Not all were there to celebrate, however. The event also attracted protesters angry with the President’s recent condemnation of the BOA. The crowd was more than lively. From the footage, we know that the first demon arrived when the President was still many blocks away. Many lives were lost as the demon rampaged through the spectators. We have multiple accounts of the demon turning its attention on a group of school children and their teacher. By all accounts, the teacher bravely shielded her class with her body as the demon attacked. However, just before the unthinkable happened, Katie arrived and blew the demon back to Hell. The teacher spoke with News 7 just hours afterward.”
The shaken teacher was covered in dust. The children clung to her as she looked into the camera with wide wet eyes and recounted the events. “We thought it would be good for the kids to see the President. Security is always so tight, but these demons—they were unstoppable. If it hadn’t been for Katie, I wouldn’t be here to tell you any of this.”
Katie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Do they want to say my name a few more times?”
The woman wiped a tear from her ash-covered face and looked at the camera. “Katie, if you are watching this, everyone at Ellwood Elementary sends you our gratitude. You saved a whole lot of lives today.”
Well, isn’t that sweet! You saved a bunch of— Pandora gulped. Children. How nice.
The video switched to a shaky handheld camera for the finale of the battle. The demon plummeted toward the President, only to turn to dust at the last moment. The shaky view panned as the gritty cloud cleared up to show Katie peeking over the edge of the building with a serious face. After that it was a barrage of shots, some from cameras and others from photographers on adjacent buildings.
Katie covered her face and groaned into her hands. “Well, that tears it. I need to call my mom.”
She was pissed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her mother. Of course she did. She had dreamt about a reunion since the day she’d been infected. She had just imagined it in better circumstances than this. She was going to have to tell her mother she was alive, that she spent her days taking down demons, and—worst of all—why she hadn’t called before if she wasn’t dead.
It was the change in Katie that had held her back. How could she ask her mother to reconcile the shy, understated athlete she had raised with the gun-toting, kickass warrior Katie had become?
Katie had come into her own. She was the bar other mercenaries set themselves against. While she thought that was badass, she knew her mom would be more than upset.
She used to lie awake at night in the Vegas base thinking about what her mom was going through. She agonized regularly over whether she was coping with the loss, and if Katie’s ‘burial’ had been too hard on her. She would fantasize about different ways to see her, but she’d known she couldn’t. When the rules changed, she’d figured it would have been too much for her mom to bear, so she’d decided to leave well enough alone.
The media coverage had taken that option from her, along with her anonymity. Between her face being splashed across every TV screen in America and the widespread panic over demons, Katie was at a point where either she told her mother or she would find out from the news—something Katie wanted to avoid if it wasn’t already too late.
Angie paused
the news. “Do you want me to leave while you call her?”
“No,” Katie replied. She got up and headed into her bedroom to pack a bag. “This is a conversation that needs to happen in person. I have to sign the documents for the condo, then I’ll be back to grab my stuff and jet out to Vegas.”
Angie stood ready with her notepad and pen. “What can I do while you’re gone?”
“I want you to get the condo set up with furniture as soon as I get the keys. I’ll have them this afternoon after the signing. I’d really like to be moved in by the time I get back.”
Angie paused her scribbling and looked at Katie. “Do you need me to arrange for your room here to be packed up?”
Katie shook her head. “I’ll be taking all my things with me when I go to Vegas, so you won’t have to worry about moving my stuff.”
Angie nodded and resumed taking notes. “All right, I can handle that. I’ll see you this afternoon, then.”
Katie smiled and pulled on her jacket. “Perfect. I’ll see you later.” She grabbed her purse and headed out of the hotel room.
Angie sat back down and grabbed the remote. She pressed Play, and the newscaster resumed rehashing the aftermath of the battle. A few minutes later she paused it again for a moment when the screen showed a blurry image of a woman. Angie could swear the woman looked like Katie, but how could Katie be flying through the air with what looked like wings on her back?
