“You two seem…” Lucian didn’t know how to phrase it. “Comfortable? Let’s call it that.”
“It has been a bloody good day thus far,” said Old Death, “but as I told you earlier, we will help you kill Wyatt. That bobolyne deserves no less. Hopefully, it will give you the power you need to not only prepare for the battle between our two wretched Progenies, but to also save your brother.”
“One can only hope,” Lucian said.
“Where are we meeting Danira again?” asked Leliel.
“The beach.”
“Ah yes, your favorite place in the world.”
“It’s just an easy place to meet. And then we will go to…” Lucian paused for a second, not quite sure where Wyatt lived. “All I can say is that it looked like it was somewhere along Route 66, but I can’t be sure. Danira will know better than me. She’s good at that kind of stuff.” He laughed nervously. “She always seems to find me.”
“The best ones have a way of doing that,” said Old Death as he winked at the fallen angel. “It is a rather strange strategy to save the man who wanted your head just a few days ago, but if you truly believe that Mastima was telling the truth—”
“I do.”
“Then we really don’t have much else to go on, now do we? And you have accomplished the other task you set out to accomplish, the one that you mentioned earlier?”
Lucian snapped his fingers, the two floating canisters appearing.
“Grim Vacuum,” Lucian said, nodding toward his creations’ necks and toothy openings at the other end.
“Fascinating,” said Leliel as she came forward, the wings on her ankles fluttering just a bit.
Her glimmering robes disappeared and the fallen angel took on the same armor that Danira wore, the combination of white and gold scale that was stronger than it looked. And for a moment, as she made her way to him, Lucian had a vision of Danira in all her glory, suddenly missing her.
He was also worried that she had found out the truth.
“You really do have a wild mind,” said Old Death as he approached the floating containers. An arc of light that came through an opening in the top of the tent added a glint to his metallic armor, some of it reflecting onto the inner walls of their sanctuary.
His predecessor placed his hands around the vacuum that contained Lucian’s surprise attack, the parasites shaking so hard inside that it made the bulbous container tremble.
“He’s a nasty little bugger, isn’t he?” Old Death asked. “All of them are, really.”
“Yeah, these are the new ones I’ve been catching,” Lucian told him. “‘Nasty’ is one word for them. Rotten sons of bitches would be another phrase that would fit the bill. They are hard little suckers to take down. I still don’t know why they are afflicting people, but I can figure that out another day.”
Old Death looked to the other canister, the one that Leliel was observing.
“That one is the main course,” Lucian explained, “after all these other guys lay down the distractions.”
“We will also be distractions,” Old Death reminded him, gesturing to the fallen angel and back to himself. “As previously discussed, the kill is yours to take. I won’t take it from you. But if I do have to intervene…”
“I meant to show you this earlier.” The potion that Yoshimi had made appeared in his hand. It was still in its Japanese whiskey bottle, the liquid inside having a bluish tint to it. “It’ll replenish my Soul Points, my power. So I have a backup plan of sorts. If Wyatt cuts me down enough, I’ll chug this and be right back at him. But I can only use it once.”
“And your other Death, the Japanese one, she made this for you?”
“Actually, I started it, and Yoshimi finished it,” Lucian told his predecessor. “She says she’s going to make me another one. It’s not easy to craft, and apparently it uses some mantlecore to do it right. To be honest, I wish she was joining us today, but I didn’t have the balls to ask her.”
“Ha! It sounds more like you knew she would say no.”
“Yeah, and that.”
“I see. Well, my only suggestion to you would be to use this elixir of yours sparingly. You never know if you’ll get another one or not, and…” Old Death nodded, bobbed his head left and right for a moment.
He caught the way Lucian was looking at him and smiled. “Ah, that’s right; I forgot to show you this,” he said, skin cascading down his forehead and from there to the rest of his body, making him look years younger, practically Lucian’s twin brother aside from the difference in hair color.
“He’s not as impressed as you said he would be,” said Leliel.
“You’re impressed, aren’t you, my boy?”
Lucian had to laugh as he took in his predecessor.
“What?” the older man asked, turning around with his arms out wide. “I thought I would surprise you. I knew you were coming, and I wanted to give you a little, oh, what do you call it? Ah, yes, a ‘before and after’ treatment.”
“Well, you look great.”
“I agree, I do,” he said, smiling at Lucian. “But as I was saying, if you don’t have to use this elixir of yours, don’t. Maybe you will learn to make a similar beverage yourself one day. Perhaps she will teach you, but, even if she is a close friend, you never know how willing she is to share such an incredible secret.”
“She said she would,” Lucian told him.
Old Death shrugged. “Then, let’s hope that is the case. My dear, shall we?” he asked, looking over to Leliel. “I’m done showing off.”
“I’ve been ready for the past five minutes.” She floated into the air and landed next to him, Old Death wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Let’s do this,” said Lucian, pressing his thumb and finger together.
He was the first to appear on the beach in Portland, Maine, followed by Old Death and the fallen angel, Lucian’s entourage with them as well.
“Ah,” said his predecessor, looking out at the ocean, the clumps of islands in the distance. “It’s hard to think that such a beautiful place would be the start of such a terrible war.”
“It hasn’t gotten terrible just yet,” said Lucian.
“True, and maybe by rescuing that dog-faced pony soldier, Gaspard, we’ll be able to cut off the snake’s head. But…” His predecessor grimaced, and what made it even stranger was the fact that his eyes were still shining purple just like Lucian’s replicants. While he had human skin now, and short blonde hair, he still had purple, robotic eyes, a coldness to them. As he grimaced, his eyes flashed. “I don’t think things will be as easy as we hope they will be.”
Leliel placed her hand on his elbow. “We don’t know exactly how things will turn out, not yet, anyway. Let’s stay positive until then.”
His predecessor smirked. “You know how I feel about positivity, my dear.”
A spark in the sky signaled that Danira had arrived.
Lucian braced himself, just in case it was going to be an ambush, his armor just about to boil out of his skin when she landed.
Her wings immediately shrunk; a stern look on her face appearing.
“Danira,” said Leliel.
“This alliance is temporary,” said Danira firmly, her gaze fixed on the other angel.
“You’ve already broken your vows,” Leliel told her. “You would be wise to check your assumptions.”
“Ladies, ladies,” Old Death said.
“I’m not here to discuss that with you. Are we ready?” Danira asked, turning to Lucian.
He didn’t sense any animosity from her that would indicate she had found out what he did, but she was more rigid than normal, clearly not so comfortable with seeing the others.
Her golden crows buzzed in front of her and took off toward the sea, Lucian’s crows following.
“I thought we were leaving,” said Old Death, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“We are,” said Danira. “But first, I need to tell you, well, the three of you, what I learned
yesterday.”
“Yes?” Leliel asked.
“Suppose I will get right to it: one of your kind has killed two of mine.”
Lucian coughed, turning to the water.
“You would assume that we knew which member of the Progeny of Darkness it was, but we do not. And before you say anything, we do not believe that this was any of the handful of Angel Hunters left.”
“We eradicated them,” said Leliel.
“Mostly, yes. Aside from Azazyel, but that’s a different story. It seems that someone has crossed a line that very well could lead to the official start of this war. I hope that isn’t the case, but I thought you all should know.”
Old Death let out an exasperated sigh. “You mean what happened here on the beach wasn’t the start?”
“We’re not at war, not yet,” Danira told Lucian’s predecessor, “but the tensions are as high as they’ve been in several thousand years. Now that one of yours has killed two of ours…” She huffed. “It complicates things.”
“And you can’t…” Lucian snapped his mouth shut, feeling stupid before he could even let the words out.
“I can’t what?”
“You said that you didn’t know who did it, and, this is going to sound stupid, but God can’t tell you?”
“We do not communicate directly with God,” said Leliel, “I mean, I didn’t. There are others who have a better relationship. But there is no direct communication at our echelon, not any longer.”
Danira nodded. “We have our ways, but she’s right, not any longer.”
A bit of hope blossomed in Lucian at that moment, Lucian catching Old Death’s purple eyes watching him, the man already putting the pieces together.
The rules that the Progeny of Light played by, or at least the rules given to them by the entity they all rallied around, somehow didn’t give them direct knowledge of everything that happened.
It was miraculous; uncanny in a way.
And he couldn’t help but find himself shaking his head, Danira looking at him curiously.
“What?”
“It’s just odd,” was all Lucian could finally say, just as a breeze rolled in from the ocean, carrying with it a couple seagulls. “Anyway. We should move. I don’t know the exact location, and I was hoping you did.”
“I know where to go,” said Danira. She motioned for her crows to return and they did, Lucian’s following suit after he whistled for them. “Everyone gather around me. Let’s make this the last time we have to go to the Southwest.”
Chapter Fifteen: Trailer Fight
If only the cars moving along a random highway through the desert in the southwestern region of America could see the spiritual beings floating roadside.
It would have made for quite the sight.
There was Lucian, who had yet to summon his bone armor, his two crows not far behind him, followed by his sleek Grim Mechas. Beside him floated Danira, the angel’s wings smaller than normal, her blonde hair blowing in the wind, the blue streak over her eyes, her white and gold armor painted on her body, her two cherub crows just over her shoulders.
Off to his left was Old Death in the form of one of Lucian’s replicants, his chiseled features covered in new skin, his eyes glowing purple. Beside him was Leliel, the fallen angel, a brunette with gray streaks in her hair, small wings on her ankles, the woman gripping an enormous sword.
It was a freak show to be sure, and one that meant business.
Danira led the way, the sun high in the sky as it always was in the desert, the lizards and snakes in their holes to avoid the heat, the varmints waiting for night, the cacti shriveled, thirsty.
It was weird to be in a scorching desert and not feel anything.
Some of the weather effects, such as wind, seemed to affect them in subtle ways, but the heat, or the cold in New England, had absolutely zero effect.
And Lucian was glad for that.
Had he been able to experience the heat, his robes, and later his bone armor, would have caused him to sweat profusely. It would have been sticky hot, unbearable.
And that was without touching the dryness, which would have parched his throat, chapped his lips, made his mouth water.
This thought made Lucian ponder what all of this would have done to his heart if he’d had one, the heat, the pressure, the intense combat.
Lucian was immensely powerful now, able to conjure weapons out of thin air, but even with all the confidence that brought him, as they moved through the desert, he felt a murmur in his chest, one that reminded him of how weak he had once been.
It was good to remember.
Best not to forget.
“There,” said Danira, pointing to a grouping of trailers in a field off the highway. “That’s where he keeps all his injuresouls.”
“Such terrible things,” Lucian’s predecessor said, equipping his sword and flourishing it. “Let’s make good timing of this, shall we?”
Lucian summoned his two Grim Vacuums, the parasites held in their canisters lashing against the inner chambers once again, the demon bugs itching to get out, to be free.
“I hope this works,” said Danira, eyeing Lucian’s two newest creations warily.
“It might not,” said Lucian with a shrug, “but at least we can say we tried. We owe it to Mastima to try. We don’t owe shit to Gaspard, but we owe it to her.”
Old Death started to say something but stopped himself once Leliel grabbed his hand, whispering something to him, his predecessor nodding in agreement.
Weapons at the ready, the four of them floated forward, quickly nearing the grouping of trailers.
As he had done before, Lucian conjured two solid walls of injurecrows, which fanned out.
Lifting up into the air, Leliel and Old Death lowered into the space between the trailers, Lucian and Danira keeping to an apex just above the battle, Lucian leaving his two replicants behind with his two Grim Vacuums.
As they had the previous day, and the day before that, the trailer doors kicked open, seething injuresouls swarming into the space, enough that they seemed to blacken the sky, their jaws distended, the bandages whipping around their faces.
Old Death and Leliel immediately began engaging the twisted demons, the fallen angel swinging her golden ax with damn near Nordic precision, Lucian’s predecessor going for his sword.
It only took another moment for Wyatt to appear, the imposing gunslinger once again standing on the trailer, his pistols spinning around his fingers, the cocky bastard’s trench coat beating in the wind as a cigarette perched on his bottom lip.
Lucian and Danira’s crows flew forward, Wyatt shooting all four of them out of the air.
Bang, bang, bang, bang!
By this point Lucian was on the trailer to the left, Danira on the trailer to the right, one of his replicants fulfilling its mission and releasing the contents of Lucian’s first Grim Vacuum.
A peach-colored parasite bulged forward, swelling and bristling with stingers and spiked tendrils, followed by five of the blackened parasites which swelled into mangled humanoid forms.
“What the...?” Wyatt asked, momentarily taken off guard once the demon bugs hit the scene, the parasites quickly engaging both Lucian’s group and the injuresouls, the air vibrant with chaos, tendrils, combat cries, and bullet casings.
Old Death swung his sword madly above his head, suddenly in his element, his lover behind him and doing the same with her golden ax, both killing indiscriminately as Wyatt gathered his wits, his cigarette falling out of his mouth once he started firing on some of the parasites.
Lucian reached the infamous Death Hunter in a flash, and mashed his finger down on the trigger of his MX-11, firing at the man at point-blank range.
It tore through his opponent’s shoulder, Wyatt responding by pumping several shots at Lucian, all of which tore into his bone armor.
When that didn’t work, Wyatt attempted to slug Lucian in the face with the bottom of his pistol, Lucian slipping around him and firing a
nother shot that went wide, grazing the side of his body when he had hoped it would go straight through his chest.
“Is that the kind of fight you want, boy?” Wyatt asked, spit flying from his mouth. “Is that what you want!?”
“Fuck off,” Lucian said as he swung the butt of his MX-11 at his face.
The Death Hunter grabbed Lucian’s futuristic energy weapon and chucked it off the trailer, following it up with a fist that connected square with Lucian’s jaw, everything flashing white and black for a moment.
Lucian knew he would be fast; what he didn’t know was that Wyatt would move like lightning, and strike like it too, as he cracked Lucian again, his skull mask denting under the pressure of the Death Hunter’s deadly fists.
Danira appeared on his other side, swinging her big sword at the hunter, who managed to slip away from her attack, the end of his trench coat whipping up and around like the tendrils of a leech parasite.
One of the humanoid demon bugs crawled onto the roof and reached its clawed hand out to Wyatt; even while engaging Danira and Lucian, Wyatt managed to fire a shot into the parasite that sent it back down into the pit, where Lucian’s predecessor and the fallen angel continued to engage a combination of injuresouls and parasites.
The glint of Leliel’s ax as it decapitated a demon bug inspired Lucian to equip his own, which he hurled at Wyatt, the ax’s teeth opening and clamping down onto what was left of the Death Hunter’s shoulder.
Lucian then fired at Wyatt with his gun that spawned an electric tripwire, electrocuting the cowboy reaper to the point where it threw him off the trailer, Wyatt hitting the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.
While a little annoyed, Wyatt didn’t seem fazed as he aimed both pistols at Lucian and unloaded an impossible number of shots, casings flying all around him as if he were wielding two M134 miniguns, the rounds shredding Lucian as they seared through his armor.
By the time Wyatt stopped, Lucian was no more than a pair of legs on top of the trailer, an arm, and a lump of neck attached to a trapezius, even a good portion of Lucian’s skull blown off.
Everything starting to blur, he glimpsed his Soul Points to see that while he was down, he still had some left before he needed to rely on Yoshimi’s potion.
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