“Hahaha! What a straight-laced guy!”
Andrew slapped Christian on the back. His large hand smacked the much younger man so hard that Christian was almost sent face first to the ground. He stumbled forward, almost tripping, but managed to right himself before suffering a meeting of the face on rock kind. Ignoring the stinging sensation in his back, he straightened, then directed a mild glare at Andrew.
“What a scary look,” the wild man said, chuckling. “You could probably kill demons with that glare.”
“I would like to ask that you not do that again,” Christian said, grumbling about inconsiderate buffoons under his breath.
“Alright, alright. Yeesh. What crawled up your ass and died?”
“Nothing.” Christian scowled, both at the language and the blasé attitude. This man almost reminded him of Tristin, a bigger, badder, and much fiercer version of Tristin, but still reminiscent of the annoying intelligence agent. And that was not a good thing in his book. “I just don’t like being touched.”
“You seem to enjoy it when Lilith touches you,” Andrew teased.
Christian’s scowl deepened. “That’s Lilith. You are not her.”
“Ouch.”
“We do not have time for bickering, you two,” Clarissa said, her voice hard and her eyes cut from diamonds. “The sirens have been going off for at least five minutes now. We need to get ready and get dressed. I have prepared outfits for both of you, just in case this day would come, and Christian, I have your weapons stored in this locker with your clothes.” She gestured to one of the many identical, plane wooden lockers. Then she looked at Andrew. “This is your locker. Get dressed please.”
“Will do,” Andrew said, moving over to a locker that Clarissa indicated was for him. He opened it up and grabbed the only article of clothing inside, which he began putting on.
Christian ignored the other man in favor of Clarissa. “Where are the others? Surely we’re not the only ones who are going to defend the enclave?”
“Of course not.” Clarissa looked like she wanted to roll her eyes and just barely managed to restrain herself from doing so. “This is not the only armory we have. There are seven more, one at each of the four cardinal points, and four more located in between them. This one is a bit farther from the others, and just happens to be where I had stored your weapons and outfits. Had I known we would be attacked so soon after you arrived, I would have stored them somewhere else.”
Nodding at her answer, Christian opened the locker, undressed, and then stepped into his new clothes. The clothing she had decided to give him was not something he was used to wearing. The pants were skin tight and stretched around his thighs and calves. They weren’t uncomfortable, but they looked outlandish. Likewise, the shirt was pure white and conformed to his body with the same tightness as the pants. He was also given a set of gloves that were missing both the middle and index fingers, socks, and a pair of black combat boots that had both a zipper and straps to keep them closed.
Just like Clarissa had said, all his equipment was also stored inside with the clothing. His swords, Michael and Rafael, sat in their sheaths, waiting to be put to use. Gabriel and Phaneul, his two pistols, were likewise sitting there within their holsters, their grips gleaming in the low light. When he finished getting dressed, strapping on all his weapons and attaching several clips of ammunition to the straps around his thighs, he checked himself over in the mirror to make sure each article was placed on properly.
Christian had to admit that, abnormal clothing or not, he didn’t look too bad.
Now if only he had a cloak.
“I apologize for the lack of all but the most basic of equipment, but my smiths have not been able to make any form of protection for you.”
Christian turned to Clarissa to see the woman looking at them both. She was no longer dressed in her bathrobe―thank God—and was now wearing a black, skin-tight body suit, equally black combat boots, and black leather gloves. Several throwing knives were strapped across her thighs, and Christian could see two sub-machine guns attached to her back. In her hand was a naginata, a Japanese spear with a curved blade.
“Do you know how to use that thing?” he asked, nodding at the pole-like weapon in her hand.
“Do you know how to those swords?”
“Touché.” Christian then turned to Andrew. The older man was wearing clothing similar to his own but much larger so as to fit his bulkier frame. “Where’s your weapon?” He furrowed his brow, not seeing anything for the muscular man to use to help fight off the coming horde of goblins, though he couldn’t imagine what the man could wield, what with his missing arm and everything.
“Don’t need one,” Andrew’s gruff voice was accompanied by a grin. “I am a weapon.”
Christian stared at Andrew for several seconds, and then dismissed him, much to the older man’s consternation.
“Come, you two,” Clarissa said, twirling her naginata around until the pole was running parallel against her left arm, the rounded end sticking into the air, blade pointed down. “Let us make haste.”
The two males looked at each other, and then moved to catch up with Clarissa.
As they walked down another walkway, Christian took a deep breath.
He had only just woken up and was already knee-deep in trouble.
***
Lilith found herself sitting in a sterilized room with white walls, a white tile floor, and an equally white ceiling. A hospital ward, a fairly large one, too. At least, it was when one took the fact that it was built inside of an underground cavern into consideration.
The room was large enough to fit a grand total of twelve beds. Over near the door was a long table that acted as a desk. Cupboards hung over the table, suspended from the ceiling and set into the wall. She didn’t know what they contained, but she imagined they held medical supplies. Another cabinet, this one large and made of glass and metal, stood next to the table. It held within it jars, bottles and containers, all of which had either pills of some sort, or liquids of varying color. Medicine, she guessed.
There were a couple of nurses in the room, four of them. They were over by the table, sitting on stools that looked much more comfortable than her own chair, conversing about something. She didn’t know what they were talking about, but they kept looking over at her, making Lilith assume that she was their topic of conversation.
The chair she sat on, which she had pulled up to Catherine’s bed, was blue, made of plastic, and uncomfortable. It was one of those standard chairs you see in every doctor’s office. She’d only been sitting in it for a few minutes, and her butt was already beginning to grow sore.
Trying to take her mind off her thoughts and discomfort, or at least hoping to, she looked at Catherine. The older woman was lying on the bed, her blond hair no longer in a tight bun but instead spread across the pillow and sheets. She had longer hair than Lilith had suspected, almost as long as her own. It wasn’t as shiny, or as smooth, but that was to be expected. Humans didn’t have perfect hair. Catherine was only wearing a basic white medical gown, along with the covers, which had been pulled up to her chest. Deep, slow, and even breaths caused her lungs to expand and contract. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
I feel so useless.
Despite not wanting to, Lilith’s thoughts turned toward her current quandary. Here she was, sitting in a hospital, twiddling her thumbs and waiting patiently. Meanwhile, Christian, her mate, was going out to fight against a horde of monsters, goblins, who were trying to invade the enclave. She hadn’t tried to stop him, nor had she attempted to go with him, because she knew that she wouldn’t be much help.
She’d hardly done anything when he battled Damien. When the Executioners had come aboard the train, she’d been useless. And when Nicholas Cruor—who they found out later on was actually Asmodeus the Demon King of Lust—had come to kill them, all she’d been able to do was let Caspian protect her.
Why can’t I do anything to help Christian?
I don’t want to be so useless anymore.
But she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be the one who was always in need of saving. She didn’t want to have Christian shoulder all the burdens himself. She wanted to help, to be useful, to prove that she could stand by his side. She wanted to show him that when chaos was upon them and the forces that be were threatening to overrun them, she could be just as strong as he was.
“I imagine you simply wore yourself out by using your powers too much.”
Her powers. Clarissa said something about her using her powers. Did that mean that she had special abilities not even she knew about? Lilith didn’t remember ever showing any powers other than her allure, which she could never actively control. It had just always sort of been there, like a hose whose knob had been broken and, unable to be shut off, simply flowed out of her body, out of control and impossible to stop.
But what if she really did have powers? Abilities that she could use to help Christian? Could they be taught? Would Clarissa be willing to teach her? She hoped so.
I’ll ask her when she gets back, Lilith decided, then and there, that she would not be useless anymore. The next time battle was upon them, Christian was not going to leave her behind.
***
The cavern walls were the same dull gray as everything else. The difference lay not in the color but in the light. Near the enclave, over that body of water and with those strange crystals that glowed with an unusual luminescence, it was bright, almost cheery, if a tad stifling. But here, inside of this long, winding passage made of rock and stone, it was dark, dank, and cold.
Water dripped down from the ceiling, splashing against the floor. There were several puddles littering the ground.
The sounds of almost two dozen boots walking along granite was accompanied by the resonance of soft breathing and the clinking of weapons. In the distance came strange noises, croaks and warbles and low, hissing grunts. While it was impossible to see them, everyone knew what they were.
Goblins.
When Clarissa, Christian, and Andrew had met up with the rest of those who would be defending the enclave, the reaction to the presence of two males had been surprise, astonishment, uncertainty, as well as resentment and even outright hate in the case of two young women there. While a few had simply appeared curious, it was clear that most of these women did not approve of having two men with them.
Most succubus apparently did not like men. Who knew?
Clarissa had explained to the others what he and Andrew were doing with them, that Christian was mated to a succubus and Andrew was immune thanks to a medallion he wore around his neck. That had garnered a bit more attention and a little less hostility―at least for Christian. They still seemed suspicious of Andrew. However, it appeared that being the mate of a succubus was something worthy of respect among them.
Christian was beginning to realize that there was a lot he didn’t know about succubi and their culture. Go figure.
While they walked along the spacious cavern, with only the light from a couple of battery-powered lamps to let them see where they were going, Christian looked at the man next to him. Andrew strode beside him, his steps lumbering and loud. A medallion made of gold and silver danced and jingled along his neck. Carved onto its surface were symbols, letters to a foreign language that Christian did not know. According to Clarissa, it was that little medallion that kept Andrew from being affected by the allure of all the succubus surrounding them.
At the front of the group and just ahead and him and Andrew, Clarissa stopped and raised her hand, causing all the others to halt as well. The woman looked around, her eyes glowing with the light of the lamp in her hand. Her nagitana was in the other. She was coiled, her body tense and ready to spring, like a rattlesnake just before it struck.
Christian had the feeling that this woman’s bite was more poisonous than any rattlesnake.
Clarissa made a gesture with her hand. Several women reached into their clothes, pulling out a small, cylindrical object. They were flares, Christian realized. They used the flares to light up the area in a bright red glow, dropping them all over the ground to further illuminate the area that was to be their battlefield.
Another hand gesture caused a number of succubus to move to the front. Each one was carrying a long-range weapon of some kind, mostly pistols, but a few had auto and semi-automatic rifles. So they were going to attack at range first? Mow the enemy down before they reached them and then close the distance and destroy the few that were left with close combat?
He nodded. That was sound plan.
Moving up to the front as well, Christian pulled Gabrielle and Phaneul from their holsters. He knelt next to one of the women, a young girl who couldn’t have been much older than him with shoulder length red hair and green eyes. Like every member of her race, she was pretty, not as pretty as Lilith but still gorgeous. He looked at her, if only for a second, to give her a nod of acknowledgement, noting her shock, and then he turned to face the long passage of the cave.
He took a deep breath.
He closed his green eye.
And he began to see.
The darkness of the cave began to brighten as his eye’s sensitivity to sunlight was increased by tenfold. Everything around him became clear, the bumpiness of the floor snapped into sharp focus. He could see the stalactites sticking up from the ceiling and count the number of cracks each one had. He could see the moisture coalescing on the walls and ceiling, running down in tiny trails across gray stone and then dripping onto the ground below. Anything and everything within his line of vision was now visible.
Including the goblin army.
Christian nearly swore as he saw the overwhelming number of goblins coming at them. He could not even begin to guess at their numbers. There had to be hundreds at least, all packed into the wide cavern in lines that extended far beyond even his vision.
Their ugly green skin was covered in filth. Sparse amount of straggly hair sat upon their heads, not covering it nearly enough as the flesh of their cranium was still plenty visible. They were all gangly legs and thin arms attached to a body that made holocaust victims look fit. Looking closely, he could see the ribcages of the ones up front, protruding and repulsive, with the skin peeled back and looking more like leather with a bad dye job than actual flesh.
Most of the goblins wore nothing but a loincloth, but he could see that a few actually had armor; chainmail skirts and shirts, gauntlets and grieves, some with a breast plate, others without. The armor was all worn and ragged, scuffed, with several pock marks and dents. Their armor was obviously used, probably old too. Judging from the number of goblins who wore some―about one for every dozen or so―it was likely a symbol of status. The goblins wearing armor were probably the best warriors, the ones who had proven themselves and shown their superiority in combat.
They were also the ones that Christian would want to take out first.
There were many legends about goblins. Most of the stories Caspian heard classified them as annoying creatures no larger than waist height, and possessing of various magical abilities and a love of money. In modern fiction, there were two branches in which goblins were associated with in popular fantasy; evil and amoral. Some people likened them to evil beings, creatures born of darkness who would steal your children, feast on their flesh, and use their bones to pick their teeth clean, or something like that. The amoral kind were often associated with bankers, a somewhat accurate description as Christian had met a few bankers and they certainly reminded him of goblins, though it was not wholly accurate either.
Goblins were creatures whose lives were run by greed. Everything they did was to gain more; more money, more land, more interesting and unique items,
more, more, more, more, always trying to acquire more than what they truly needed. They would lie, steal, and kill anyone who got in their way to get more of what they wanted.
They were also nasty little fighters. Christian had slaughtered a number of them and they always fought dirty, throwing dirt in your eyes, biting your legs, playing dead and coming up to stab you in the back when you turned away. When fighting a goblin, you could never turn your back until you were sure they were dead.
Christian found the best way to know when a goblin was alive or not was through decapitation. If they were headless, you knew they were dead.
Several harsh, labored breaths echoed in his ears. The girl he’d been standing next to, the one that couldn’t have been much older than him―possibly even younger―looked to be on the verge of panicking.
“Easy,” Christian murmured, loud enough for the young woman to hear. “Don’t get worked up. Take deep, slow breaths. Keep yourself calm and collected. Take in a breath, hold it. Now release.”
The young woman did exactly as told, taking in slow breaths and releasing them after several seconds. Christian kept an eye on both the approaching horde and the girl. The goblins were getting closer. He estimated them to be about no less than one-hundred meters now. In the darkness, the succubi wouldn’t be able to see them yet, which explained why they were not firing.
“Thank you,” the young succubus muttered, her cheeks turning a little pink. She must not have been used to someone helping her, or maybe she was embarrassed because he was a guy. It was something to think on at any rate.
“You’re welcome. Now get your gun ready. They’ll be coming in a few seconds.”
True to Christian’s prediction, the first line of goblins soon became visible. Clarissa, who’d been holding her hand above her head, gave the command to let loose with a loud bark of “fire!” while bringing her arm down in a swift chopping motion.
All around Christian, lights blazed as guns went off. The loud thunderclap of heavy guns like magnums banged against his eardrums. The steady buzzing of submachine guns sounded out like a swarm of bumble bees. Christian’s own twin handguns went off with several loud, violent bursts, the tips lighting up like short-lived stars in the night.
Enclave Page 5