Dark Gate Angels Complete Series Omnibus

by Ramy Vance

  “By this point, what was left of me was dead. Erased in a long slumber. The only thing that remained were the two hungers, and over the course of time, one grew larger than the other. I’ve met other liches, but none of them were like me; they killed only to keep themselves alive. I was something else. I killed for the sheer joy of it.”

  Rasputina walked through a village, setting it afire with the flick of her wrist, then scooping up a screaming child as it ran past her and sinking her teeth into its soft flesh.

  “I was the first to fall upon the rare curse of the lich, to die with meaning. It’s the one thing your soulless mind clings to. Mine was to defeat Death. You call him the Dark One. Some call him Odin. In that meaning, I found my undoing. Death was all that I could create. It was all I lived for.”

  The memories disappeared. Everyone was back in the cavern.

  Rasputina looked at the other lich. “Now we live with each other, she tormented by having a soul again. Feeding on my constant pain, the guilt of knowledge of every life I’ve ended. We exist together for the first time, and it is unbearable, but I know my purpose again. It is to end the Dark One.”

  Anabelle stood, her fist catching fire. “Yeah, that wasn’t a good enough story.” She stalked toward Rasputina as the two forms of the lich joined again.

  Telzrem’s tail slid between them. “She speaks the truth,” the dragon said.

  Anabelle whirled to face the Mundanes and Terra. “Okay, she’s sorry for everything she did. Who gives a shit? What she’s done is monstrous. We should end her right here. Now.”

  The Mundanes exchanged glances, one to the other. Finally, Suzuki stood and approached Telzrem. “You’ve lived longer than any of us could hope to. You’re wiser than any of us. What do you think?”

  Telzrem rose to his full height for the first time since their battle. “For years, I’ve guarded this soul jar. Myrddin himself asked me to, for a soul jar is one of the most dangerous things for a mortal to possess. I was told to only release it if I was certain it was in the right hands, even if that meant my death.”

  The dragon sighed heavily. “The battle against the Dark One is above my ideas of right and wrong. It is beyond me. The lich does not deserve forgiveness, but she is sincere in her desire to destroy the Dark One, and she is a powerful weapon to be wielded against him.”

  Rasputina stood, her face twitching. “Forgiveness isn’t what I want. When the Dark One is destroyed, I will give you the location of the last two parts of my soul. Once he is dead, you can end my life as well.” She turned to Anabelle and Terra. “I only ask that it be you two and Abby.”

  Anabelle glared at the lich, trying to find the words to express her disgust, but Telzrem was right. The lich was a powerful weapon, one the Dark One did not know he had unleashed against himself. She settled on, “You disgust me. I find you abhorrent, but we need your strength.”

  Rasputina wiped tears from her face as she nodded. “I am. Truly. I know. And I deserve never to stop knowing that.”

  Anabelle picked up the soul jar. “Objections, anyone?”

  The cavern was silent.

  “Good. Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  Chapter Five

  The council of the twelve tribes had been summoned. The announcement had traveled through the Nine Realms faster than any news had for years.

  No one knew the orc tribes had been united under Terra and Cire. It was news to the elves, gnomes, and dwarves, but it was the elves who were most concerned.

  Whispers traveled through the Nine Realms. Even though all races of the realms were united in their fight against the Dark One, that didn't change politics.

  And here were orcish politics, ancient though they were, on display for all the realms to see.

  Terra received the summons a few days after returning to HQ. That alone was going to take getting used to.

  Anabelle and Terra had returned to HQ with Rasputina.

  Roy had flipped his shit when Rasputina waltzed out of the hadron collider.

  Anabelle and Tera had talked about the best course of action for some time. Treating him like a reasonable leader would have resulted in the lich being killed on the spot. That was what Anabelle said she would have done, at least—given permission for Rasputina to be allowed into HQ, then attacked when she wasn't expecting it.

  Instead of doing that, Terra had suggested ignoring Roy until they had a chance to explain their situation in person.

  The conversation had not gone well.

  "Do you have any idea how bad a fucking idea this is?" Roy shouted as he stormed into the War Room. "We've spent the last two months running from that psychotic lich with our tails between our legs, and you brought her into our base because she's turned over a new leaf?"

  Terra raised her hand, cutting Roy off. She looked as convincing as she could. "It's kinda like someone gave us the keys to their boss’ nuclear bomb, except that the boss is the nuclear bomb, and it's on our side."

  Roy slammed his palm to his forehead and sighed for maybe a thousand years. "Are you kidding me? That's your argument?"

  Terra smiled as she shrugged. Arguing with Roy wasn't going to change what was happening. Even though he was running things, Anabelle and Terra were the ones who had to make calls at the last minute. This had been one of them. "Well, I'm not sure if it matters since she's already here. If she's going to destroy the place and kill us all, then she will, and there's nothing we can do about it."

  Anabelle hadn't spoken since they'd come back, and Terra had wondered what was on her mind. Suddenly, the elf stood and walked over to Roy. She took his hand in her own, her eyes serious yet deep. "Roy, we know you're the one in charge, but we had to make a judgment call. And I know it pisses you off. It's not what you would have done, but that was why Myrddin formed this group. Because he couldn't be everywhere. It used to piss him off too, but this isn't an attack on your leadership. We just did what we thought was best."

  Terra and Roy stared at Anabelle, confused by her tone and her words. This wasn't the same elf Terra had met months ago. Her response had been calm, measured, and most surprising, fairly empathetic. It looked like the Mundanes’ dynamic had rubbed off on Anabelle.

  Roy was obviously fumbling for a response. He finally collapsed into a chair, shaking his head as he muttered under his breath.

  Anabelle knelt beside him. "What is it?"

  Roy looked up, his eyes sunken black holes of exhaustion. "If this goes sour, I'm the one who is getting fucked."

  "Nope," Terra interjected. "You'll be dead. All of us will be, and it's not like you can be court-martialed for being dead."

  Roy sat up, trying to rub away how tired he was. "Okay, so where were you thinking we would keep her?"

  Anabelle pointed at the floor. "She suggested the prison."

  Roy shook his head. "No way. That's where we are holding Grok. If Rasputina is up to something..." He had pulled out the report Anabelle and Terra had filled before arriving back at HQ. "Even if she's not powerful enough to take down the whole base, I'm not going to risk her talking to Grok. Somewhere else."

  "There's that abandoned hall near the science department."

  Terra raised her eyebrow. "You mean the hall that Abby lives on?"

  "Fuck, I didn't—"

  Roy interrupted, "That's going to have to do. Worst-case scenario, Abby can handle herself, and you two have an incentive to get your asses there. Oh, and you have to explain this to her because this is your fucking responsibility."

  He stormed toward the exit but stopped when Anabelle grabbed his arm. The elf pulled him close for a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "Hey, I know this is stressful, but we're all doing what we can, same as you. We're in this together. If something looks wrong, you're going to be the first person to know about it."

  The edges of Roy's face softened, as did the corner of his eyes. "Okay. Sorry about earlier. I'm just—"

  "I get it. Sometimes it's boss time. Don't worry. I'll see you late
r."

  Roy left Anabelle and Terra alone. "So, when did you learn how to put all that honey on top of spice?" Terra asked.

  Anabelle sat down, swiping through footage of Rasputina in a containment cell. "Fuck off. It wasn't that much honey."

  "Dude, you practically covered your boy in sugar."

  "Eh, maybe it was watching the Mundanes. They make a lot more jokes and bicker a lot less, and seem to genuinely respect who is in charge, even if they need to talk shit. Maybe I need to cut Roy and Myrddin more slack. I mean, we did just bring a lich into HQ."

  Terra chuckled and crossed her arms. "Yeah. That is pretty wild."

  That was four days ago. Since then, the lich had been moved onto Abby's hall.

  The girl hadn't been excited, opting to sleep in the lab instead while she and Creon continued extended research on her nanobots.

  Other than that, the whole thing had gone off without a hitch. No one had heard anything from either of the Gates. It looked like there was going to be a lull in missions for a bit.

  That was when the summons had arrived.

  Now Terra and Cire were on a convoy heading toward an undisclosed location in the ancient city of Gad, the old capital of the orc world. Apparently, the council had continued to use the city after it had been abandoned.

  Roy and Blackwell accompanied Terra and Cire. Both were reviewing files as Terra and Cire watched the wild terrain around them.

  Terra noticed that Cire seemed more keyed into his surroundings than usual. "Like the view?" she asked.

  Cire looked at Terra, and his eyes filled with tears. He made no attempt to hide them or wipe them away. "This is my home. There has been little time for me to appreciate it."

  "Have you ever been here?"

  Cire shook his head. He tried to speak but paused, collecting his thoughts. "There is a term for one such as me: Bethakor-al-Zakoth. It is one who is... It means that I am not a true orc. I wasn't born here. Was not raised by my people. I grew up in a pen and was taught my ways by slaves, those the twelve tribes believe were too weak to be considered orcs. I'm still surprised the tribes acknowledge me. The only reason I have any sway here is because of you."

  Terra stared out at the land of the orcs as she thought about what Cire had said. "You resent me a little, don't you?"

  Cire hung his head. "No, I don't. Merely myself. I grew up on the legends of my people. My heart burned with an intense desire to know where I came from and be connected to my lineage. I wanted to feel my ancestors in my blood, but all I have are the stories and the stares of those who believe me to be other and only tolerate me because a human vouches for me. My ancestors and my brothers and sisters are ashamed of me."

  Terra wiped away Cire's tears. "You know your history better than any living orc of the twelve tribes, and you were instrumental in getting the tribes back together. Don't sell yourself short. If they don't want to accept you, fine. We'll just have to beat it into their skulls."

  Cire laughed as he turned to look at the giant structure ahead of them. It was a tower carved straight into the heart of a mountain with an arena before it. "You're very good at cheering me up. I've always appreciated that. And you? How are you feeling about all this?"

  Terra shifted in her seat as Roy looked at her. "I don't know. The more involved I get in all of this, the more uncomfortable I feel. But if the council is willing to accept me as one of their own, then it can't be too big of a deal for me to be part of it."

  "No, I mean, how do you feel?"

  Terra cracked her knuckles and sighed. "Scared. If I'm honest. I hate this kind of shit. Being on talk shows is one thing, but this? Fuck, it’s terrifying."

  Blackwell, who was driving, banged on the window and shouted, "We're almost there. Get ready."

  Roy loaded his plasma pistol while Terra gave him a confused look.

  "I thought we were going to a peace council or something?" Terra asked.

  Roy holstered his pistol. "I'm assuming every orc in there is armed. And I don’t act on information from spies without holding onto a fear that I might be shot in the back."

  The truck stopped in the middle of the arena.

  Twelve orcs sat on a stage near the edge. The area reminded Terra of the arena she’d had to fight her way out of. She remembered that Cire had told her the Game Master's arena was based on ancient orc traditions. It was only fitting that the council was meeting in a place like this.

  Terra, Cire, Blackwell, and Roy stepped out of the van and headed toward the council's seats.

  There were two people waiting for them.

  Roy pulled out his binoculars to see who they were. After a few seconds, he screamed a string of curses, threw his binoculars to the ground, and shot them. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he shouted.

  Terra and Cire exchanged glances. "That doesn't sound good at all," Terra whispered in Cire's ear.

  They walked toward the council, dust kicking up around them. Terra blinked back tears, her vision blurring, then wiped her eyes.

  Sarah and Grok stood in front of the council, facing Terra and Roy.

  Grok bowed, the air around her pulsing with her energy. "Good to see you again, Terra."

  Roy drew his gun and aimed it at Sarah. "You have one minute to explain what the fuck she is doing out of her cell."

  Sarah gestured at the council. "A special request."

  The orcs on the stage mostly looked the same: large male orcs, all of them ancient, with various tattoos whose meanings eluded Terra. One was a female, who wore a wrap around her face, her body covered in thick hide armor. A shaman.

  The shaman stepped forward and cleared her throat. When she spoke, her voice resounded throughout the arena. "We requested that Grok attend this meeting. She is a vital part of orc society. Our Hand, if you will."

  Roy holstered his gun. "It’s interesting you say that, but it doesn't change that she is our prisoner and—"

  The shaman pulled a knife from her side and threw it at Roy. It landed a centimeter from his big toe. "This meeting is between the human, the slave, and us. Please remember that the next time you speak."

  Terra stepped in front of Roy. "If we're going to talk, I expect you to give my friends the same respect you would give me."

  "Which is what I've done. You'll get our respect when you earn it. Now shut your mouth and listen."

  Terra's blood heated. She wished she could jump onto that podium and beat some respect into the shaman, but that wasn’t the way things like this went. She would wait for her fight.

  Chapter Six

  Terra and the rest of them walked up to Sarah, Roy still eyeballing her as if he expected a shot in the back at any time.

  Sarah, on the other hand, didn't seem to be bothered by Roy's suspicions. After a few minutes, she sighed as she leaned her weight to the side, putting one hand on her waist. "I just borrowed her. It seemed easier to ask forgiveness instead of permission."

  Roy didn't bother looking at the agent. "Have you been talking to Anabelle?"

  "Here and there, but that's not important. We aren't here to talk about how annoyed you are with me. This is about Terra and Grok."

  Terra thought she must have misheard for a moment. What did this have to do with Grok? But what other reason would the orc have to be here if it didn't have to do with her?

  Grok watched Terra the way a large cat watches their prey. She looked ready to pounce at any moment, her muscles tensing and relaxing in slight movements.

  Even if Terra was terrified of Grok, she couldn't help but respect the orc's strength, and she could admit it. Every time she saw the orc, she thought she was going to shit her pants.

  Grok seemed to know that and grinned at Terra, her sharp teeth gleaming in an extremely attractive way. "How have you been keeping yourself?"

  Terra felt like the orc was playing mind games with her. "You know, just kicking the Dark One's ass. Nothing new."

  Grok's eyes flicked up and down Terra’s body. "You look softer than the last tim
e I saw you. Having trouble finding a good fight?"

  Terra felt like she was naked, but there was nothing she could do about the embarrassment. Instead, she tried to ignore the warmth in her face as she blushed.

  The ground trembled violently, and everyone's eye went to the shaman. "You were summoned here because the orc council has decided your rule is blasphemous. A non-orc leading the twelve tribes is an insult to all orcs. We revoke your right to lead."

  Now the warmth in Terra's face was from anger instead of embarrassment. "What the fuck do you mean, you revoke my right? I didn't come here asking for your permission for any of this. The orcs were scattered. I brought them back together. What the hell have you been doing?"

  One of the male orcs on the council stood. "Spoken like a true orc. And do you speak for the timid elf scat at your side?"

  Terra looked at Cire, who winced and looked down at being spoken to by the council. Instead of waiting to meet his eyes to see if he was okay, she stared at the shaman.

  After a few moments, Cire stepped forward. "I speak for myself."

  The old orc cackled. "Ah, the shitstain speaks. Surprised you even learned how to move your tongue. Dull-fanged as well. You are the one who follows the human?"

  "I follow no one. I am sworn to her as my chieftain by my choice, as per the old ways."

  The old orc slammed his axe on the stage. "No shaman would swear themselves to anyone. You do not know the old ways, only the bastard drivel of whatever waste of cum sired you."

  "And you all have sat here growing old with your knowledge and watching your people die? Or perhaps you've grown too senile to remember that you sit in ruins like royalty that has lost its kingdom? At least I still have the strength to fight."

  The old orc laughed again as he lifted his axe. "At least they talk like orcs."

  The shaman raised her hand, causing the earth to shake once more. "Already, forces are moving against you. We offer a way out of the eventual bloodshed you will bring on your heads and those of your orcish family."