by Barry Reese
“Foolish male! You are living proof of Gideon’s hypocrisy! You are nothing more than a killer, yet you are accepted as an ally?!” The Furious slashed at Retribution, the nails of its hands twisted into claws. Deep gashes appeared in Retribution’s midsection, the accursed metal that covered his skin damaged by the mystic assault.
The Furious summoned its mystic spear and the weapon materialized in its hand. It stabbed Retribution in the gut, twisting the blade deep. The reformed villain cried out in alarm as energy rushed through them, setting fire to his soul.
As The Furious jerked the spear out of Retribution and prepared to strike again, a surprising voice made the villain halt its attack and spin about.
“Stace...”
The Furious felt its control over its host slip almost immediately, the sudden surge of emotion making it impossible to maintain its domination of Stacy’s spirit.
With shaking hands, The Furious pulled off the golden mask... and the tear-streaked face of Stacy Allen came into view. “Oh, God... Please let it be true...”
Daniel Higgins stepped forward, wearing the same clothes as the last time she’d seen him. He looked so good to her that Stacy let out a noise halfway between a sob and a laugh.
“Stace, put that thing down, okay?”
Stacy looked down at the spear and then tossed it aside, letting it clatter to the floor. With tears in her eyes, she whispered, “Dan... ?”
He moved forward and took her in his arms. They held each other with a ferocious strength. “Oh, Dan,” she whispered. “I’m so scared. I missed you so much.”
Retribution nursed his wounds and remained silent. He and Gideon had discussed this en route, though the cosmic spirit of retribution had been hesitant to resort to such methods. A small spell, placed in Gideon’s mind by Jennifer, allowed him to once more create the simulacra of Daniel Higgins, one that would fool Stacy in her current state.
Gideon, still wearing the guise of Daniel, pulled away from Stacy. “I promise I’ll help you with this... I know some people that can help get that spirit out of you.” He kissed her forehead, just like he used to do, and she smiled.
“I trust you,” she replied. “I should have trusted you from the beginning but it was so hard and I was... I was scared, Daniel. Of Babylon. Of losing you.”
Gideon nodded, letting her talk out her problems; it lasted several minutes and consisted of fearful whisperings and apologies. As gently as he could, he held her against him until she grew weak in his arms and her voice began to fade. She was still conscious but she was limp against him, her eyes closed. The stress of the past few months had finally taken its full toll upon her.
“She is exhausted,” he said, his true form beginning to return.
Retribution watched them both, marveling at what he’d just seen. He’d never known Babylon to be anything but grim, but for a moment there he seemed genuinely concerned about Stacy. He had been almost... gentle. “How long before the Furies take her over again?” he asked.
Babylon looked into Stacy’s face and he felt the heart he shared with Jennifer skip a beat. Even with the lines of fatigue and worry on her face, she was breathtakingly beautiful. “Not long... but it will have to be enough. Vinu soruntium hoggoth.”
“Come again?” Retribution asked. Eldritch energy surrounded Stacy Allen’s slender form and her countenance took on a peaceful aspect.
“With Jennifer’s help, I have placed her in a magical form of suspended animation. It is similar to what Jennifer did to preserve Catalyst’s spirit. Stacy will remain thus until Byron and Jennifer can remove the curse. I have faith that they will do so.”
Retribution allowed his metal skin to peel back, gradually reverting him to his human form. “I’m bushed, too.”
“Are you going to stay in London?”
“Where else can I go? That damned Barrier’s got everything locked up tight.”
Babylon nodded, lifting Stacy up into his arms and carrying her easily. He cradled her head against his chest. “Is everyone in my life doomed to be affected like her? To lose their innocence and be forced to take part in these games of life and death?”
Bolan didn’t reply, for similar thoughts had haunted his own thoughts. Such concerns had led him to avoid relationships of any kind in the past few years... and he couldn’t help but wonder if Jennifer Black was going to learn the same harsh lesson.
***
The wizard Byron pushed on, continuing to tweak his ritual. Being a spirit had its occasional advantages, one being that he was incapable of succumbing to physical exhaustion. He could work for days or weeks if necessary.
Not that he wanted to do so, of course.
He could feel the walls between the mortal world and the astral plane weakening; if only Jennifer had pressed harder, they could have already succeeded.
No... she did all she could. She is not my pupil any longer; she is a sorceress in her own right. She is also the host for the cosmic spirit of retribution and I cannot expect her to put my concerns above hers any longer.
Byron reached out with his mind, letting the magic pour out of his soul. He felt the bonds stretching taut, then begin to break...
And then, with an almost audible snapping sound, the barriers that held the imprisoned sorcerers’ souls in check broke free.
Byron resisted the urge to let out a shout of joy, but he did smile openly and step back. He opened his eyes and saw the shimmering forms of M’Baku, Abigail Cross, and so many others... they glimmered briefly before winking out of existence, each moving on to the eternal reward that awaited them.
And then a figure swathed in green and black emerged from the slowly receding rift in space.
Nathaniel Caine—The Catalyst—hovered in the air above Byron. He looked exhausted but he was alive... and that was enough to lift Byron’s spirits.
“Where is Jennifer?” Catalyst asked.
“With Babylon,” Byron replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Weak.” The world’s most powerful mage allowed his feet to touch the ground and he held one hand up to his forehead. “I’m too old for this, Byron. It’s time I found someone new to take up the mantle.”
“Not yet, my friend—not until the current crisis has passed. We need you and all your experience.”
“It hasn’t helped us much to this point,” Catalyst replied bitterly.
“One can’t lose hope. Give yourself time to recover and then you’ll be back to your usual power level.”
Catalyst started to speak when he was suddenly yanked into the air by invisible forces. He looked startled and for a moment Byron feared that something had gone wrong with the spell. Was Nathaniel being pulled back into the Astral Plane?
“I’m being pulled through the Barrier, Byron! Damian must have had a failsafe of some kind. I’m being sent back to America!”
“Work on freeing us,” Byron said, though he wasn’t sure that Catalyst heard him. The mage was already gone, his form having faded away from sight.
Byron felt a mixture of pleasure that his spell had succeeded... and concern that Damian’s plans were still so powerful. If he had left a failsafe to deal with the potential freeing of Catalyst, did he have other traps out there waiting to be sprung?
Chapter XI Twists and Turns
W.H.A.T. HQ
Amber Greene stood with arms crossed, her attractive features set in an expression of mounting concern. She was in an observation room with approximately ten other agents, most of whom were barely able to restrain their excitement. Some of them almost looked sexually titillated by the torture going on before them.
“He’s beginning to come out of it!” someone yelled, one of the technicians that lined the room into which Amber and her compatriots were viewing. Amber was “safe” behind a bulletproof window, though as the moments passed she increasingly felt like she would be happier on the other side of the glass.
The technicians were dressed in full bodysuits, peering out at their prey through tinted v
isors. Their prey... Amber marveled at her mind’s choice of words. That’s what their captive was to her fellow agents, however—something to be poked at and, if need be, opened up. The techs would be dining for ages on the information he could give them.
He had been born John Galahad and he’d grown up with an affinity for the occult. This had eventually led him to open up a private detective agency that specialized in cases that simply wouldn’t be taken up by anyone else.
He was also heir to a long-standing family curse, one that bonded the eldest member of each generation to the eternal cosmic spirit of retribution, embodied by their ancestor, Gideon Black. Galahad had managed to escape this curse at first, though he would eventually do his time as host for Gideon, during a period when Daniel Higgins was banished from Earth. He’d struggled with many things during that brief period of enslavement, not the least of which were the many demons and evil sorcerers that had plagued the world at the time. Eventually, Daniel returned and Gideon’s spirit went with him. Galahad was freed to marry his longtime paramour and become the father of two children.
But curses are funny—even when you think you’re done with them, they keep turning up like a bad penny. That’s how Galahad ended up here, on the wrong side of the Barrier from his family.
Even though it was now known that Jennifer Black was host to Gideon’s spirit, John still housed some of the unusual mystic energy that was associated with the family line. That, combined with the knowledge of the supernatural that he possessed, made him of extreme interest to W.H.A.T.
You’ve led a hard life, John Galahad. It’s not about to get any easier.
John stirred, opening his eyes and looking around. He was strapped to a table, stripped of all clothing save for a pair of white underwear. His body was crisscrossed with scars, evidence of a life filled with danger. “Where am I?” he asked.
Amber heard James Heathrow’s voice echo through the chamber below. He was in the viewing area with her, holding a microphone against his lips. A thin strip of gauze kept his third eye from view, preventing the sentient orb from attempting another escape. She could see it pressing against the cloth, unable to break free. “You are in the custody of the British government. We mean you no harm.”
“That’s why you kidnapped me and tied me up, right?”
“We have questions,” Heathrow continued. “About your connection to Babylon and other things. We would like your voluntary assistance but if you refuse, we have no choice but to do things that hard way.”
“Oh, we’ll do things the hard way, all right... if your boys don’t let me loose, you’re going to be in a world of hurt.”
One of the men near Amber grunted in amusement. The hairs on the back of Amber’s neck stood on end, however—did Galahad know something that they didn’t? Given his past, she wouldn’t put it past him, even though he looked like he was at their complete mercy.
Galahad closed his eyes and his lips began moving rapidly. He was whispering a string of seemingly nonsense words, but the effect was instantaneous. The air in the room that he occupied began to crackle with visible sparks of electricity.
The straps that had been holding him suddenly burst apart, falling aside and allowing Galahad to spring from the table.
“What the bloody hell?” Heathrow muttered. “What is he doing?” He turned and looked straight at Amber and she thought for a second before answering.
“We know he’s had dealings with the occult. He must have picked up a spell here or there.”
“Your reports didn’t mention that.”
“An oversight,” she replied, turning her attention back to Galahad.
Several armed guards had burst into the room, pointing their rifles directly at the former private investigator. He reacted with such precision that Amber wondered how many times Galahad had been in similar situations. He grabbed the wrist of the closest man, yanking him close and spinning him about. He held the man by the neck with one arm and used the other to grab the man’s hand, forcing him to squeeze the trigger of his rifle. Bullets ripped into the other guards and when one of them returned fire, Galahad’s human shield absorbed the damage.
Shoving aside the now dead guard, Galahad sprang toward one of the survivors. He slammed the man’s head against the wall and then picked up his fallen weapon in one smooth movement. He pointed the gun at one of the techs and barked an order, which the tech immediately complied with.
“That bastard’s opening the door for him!” Heathrow barked.
Amber couldn’t hide her amusement at how quickly Galahad had turned the tables on them. She was pretty certain that Heathrow, through the sudden mad tumble to reach the exits, glared at her as she laughed.
Allowing herself to be carried from the observation area atop a tide of fearful agents and scientists, she managed to break free from the horde and take refuge in a nearby hallway. She could hear the rapid-fire of Galahad’s rifle and knew that he was most likely killing some of her coworkers.
She was somewhat surprised by her lack of concern.
Quick footsteps brought Galahad right beside her hiding place. He swung the gun around quickly when he detected her but lowered it when he saw her raise her hands in surrender. Alarms were now blaring and additional security forces would be on their way.
“Tell me how to get out of here,” Galahad said.
Amber swallowed hard. She knew that Heathrow would praise her tremendously if she stalled Galahad long enough for him to be captured again—she might even get that promotion that she’d long hungered for.
Strangely enough, she couldn’t stop thinking about Jennifer Black... How would Jennifer, whom Amber was supposed to be studying objectively, react to all this? What would she do in this situation?
Amber’s words came in a quick, harshly spoken flurry. “You can’t take any of the obvious exits—they’re all well-guarded and secured. The roof’s out, too, for similar reasons. The only way we’re going to get out of here is by going through the sub-systems, past the holding cells.”
“We?”
“I know the way out, and if I were your enemy, I wouldn’t be telling you all this.”
“It could be a trap.”
Amber hesitated, knowing that her next words would make all the difference not only for her immediate safety but also for her future employment with W.H.A.T. “I want to meet Jennifer Black.” She licked her lips. “I think I’m infatuated with her. I want to get to know her.”
Galahad blinked. “Are you serious? You want me to set you up on a date?”
“Introduction is all I’m asking for.”
“Damn, you’re hard-up, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
Galahad gestured for her to lead the way. “Show me the way... and then I’ll put in a good word for you with my cousin.”
***
Ancient Tomes Bookstore & Café
Bansi sipped his coffee and tried hard to mask his extreme displeasure. He gulped it down and plastered on a smile. “Delicious.”
Jennifer, dressed in a knee-length leather skirt and emerald blouse, let a smirk play across her lips. She and her employer were standing in the rear of the store, while a large but quiet group of customers moved through the shelves. “You’re a terrible liar. Want me to throw the rest of the pot out?”
Bansi laughed. “No! It’s really not that bad. Tastes better than some of the things they used to serve in that pub down the street.”
“The one that was shut down for health violations?”
“That’s the one.”
Jennifer playfully poked her friend in the stomach. “Next time you can make your own coffee.”
“Thank you so much, luv. I really do appreciate that.”
Bansi glanced up as a customer stepped up to the counter, a stack of books in hand. Jennifer glided into the rows of bookshelves, leaving her boss to the task of ringing up the sale.
The smell of old paper filled her nostrils and brought a sense of peace to Jenn
ifer’s soul. It reminded her of the old days, when she’d lived and studied with Byron while her friends shared bizarre adventures with her.
It was kind of hard to believe all the twists and turns her life had taken over the years, from being the heir to lost Atlantean magic to being the host for the cosmic spirit of retribution. Not that I’d change much, she thought. Even coming here and being trapped behind the Barrier... It’s let me get past all the anger and frustration I’d been building up. I feel like I actually have an honest-to-God purpose in life now. I owe you for that, Gideon, I really do.
She stepped around the corner, realizing with amusement that her subconscious had led her directly into the occult section of the bookstore. Normally this was the most popular area, usually with nearly a dozen customers browsing the stacks.
Strangely, there was only a single person here... and she was someone that caused Jennifer to catch her breath. A strikingly beautiful woman stood there, dressed in an off-the-shoulder blouse that revealed a black bra strap and tight black jeans. The woman’s raven-black hair hung straight down her back and she was flipping through a worn copy of The Magick of Woman.
Though her hair was longer than the last time they’d seen each other, Jennifer had no problem placing the nubile young girl in her memory—one glance at Suspira was enough to give her a permanent home in anyone’s masturbation fantasies.
“Suspira... ? What are you going here?”
Suspira, the daughter of Lucifer and the brother to Damian, held up a finger for silence. She smiled enigmatically, whispering, “Tone it down, girlfriend. Show some respect for the ancient knowledge in these books. A place like this deserves a little bit of civility.”
Jennifer moved forward quickly, lowering her voice. “How did you get here? Were you inside the Barrier when it went up? How come you didn’t help us fight Damian?”
Suspira closed the book and put it back on the shelf. Jennifer could feel the overpowering sexuality that Suspira possessed; the temptress could work her wiles on any heterosexual male, but Jennifer’s sexual preference made her just as susceptible. “I was over in Wales when it happened. I’d be working to screw up Damian’s schemes but I didn’t want to reveal myself—and then the whole thing was over, without my help. Nice job, by the way. If you guys hadn’t stopped him, my brother would be running this town into the ground.”
