The Descent Series Complete Collection

by S. M. Reine

  “Who is this?” Elise asked, her face illuminated by James’s cell phone. She must have pulled it out of the car when she got the jacket, and she had opened the attachment on his email so that the image filled the screen.

  She didn’t fight him when he took the phone.

  The world around him vanished as James drank in the details of the photo. Hannah was older than he remembered, but still so beautiful. There was a hint of a smile at the corners of her eyes, which were marked with crow’s feet.

  But it wasn’t her face that he lingered over. It was that of the boy at her side.

  His hair and eyes were dark brown. His jaw shared the same curve as Hannah’s, but his lips were the exact same bow curve as James’s favorite aunt. Thick-framed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He looked very serious, like he had never smiled in his life. James recognized that serious expression. He saw it in the mirror every morning.

  “James?”

  The boy would be roughly ten years old. Maybe eleven. Hannah had to have known she was pregnant when James left. Why hadn’t she told him?

  Elise was speaking. “James,” she said again.

  He realized he had stopped walking, and he pocketed his phone. “What?”

  “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  He gaped at her, trying to decide how she could have known about his son. But she wasn’t looking at him—she was looking beyond the stopped cars to a row of flashing lights and a barricade of orange barrels.

  It was the Union. They had blocked off the road ahead using a line of SUVs that blended into the night.

  Elise drew her sword. “You already knew they were here, didn’t you? That’s why you brought them up in the sewers. You’ve been talking with them.”

  The change in focus was too fast for him to catch up. He stuttered. “Just the once, but—Elise!”

  She stormed through the cars, jumping on the hood of an El Camino by the barrels.

  A man with a gun on the other side of the barricade spotted her and shouted. He aimed the rifle at her. Elise didn’t seem to care. “What the hell have you people done?” she shouted.

  James ran to the side of the vehicle. There were two guards now, and another was running from farther down the line. “Get down !” She shook his hand off her calf.

  “Drop your sword and back away from the barricade,” the nearest man shouted.

  “Is this Gary Zettel’s unit? Where is he?”

  Three guns aimed at her chest.

  James stepped in front of the bumper, holding his hands out in a gesture of peace. “Wait, please. Don’t shoot. Contact the commander. Tell him it’s James and Elise.” The man who yelled put a hand to his ear and spoke softly into the earpiece. The other two didn’t waver. “Now get down, Elise!”

  “Do you see what they’ve done?”

  She pointed over his head and beyond the SUVs. James couldn’t see from his position on the ground. He climbed onto the roof beside her—with the armed kopides tracking his motions very closely—and squinted past the bright lights.

  The road was destroyed. They had blasted the pavement open, turning a hundred-foot swath into rubble. There was another barricade on the other side, and more stopped cars.

  The Union had killed all traffic entering or exiting the city on that road.

  “The commander is on his way,” the armed kopis said finally. He addressed the other two. “Drop your guns. We’re not allowed to shoot.”

  Elise glared fire at James. “You have been in contact with them.”

  “They approached me. I spoke to them once. Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “When was I supposed to mention that, exactly? When the oldest demon in the world dragged us into another dimension? When we fell a few hundred feet and almost died? When you decided to become the first kopis in history to cast magic?”

  “How about when you were taking all my cigarettes?” Elise snapped.

  James clenched his jaw and dropped off the side of the car. The men let him climb onto the other side of the barricade.

  “He’ll land down there,” one of them said, gesturing toward a cul-de-sac that was cordoned off at the bottom of the hill. “I’ll escort you.”

  Elise stalked after them.

  There were few signs of life in the neighborhood. People peeked through their windows. Some sat on their front lawns. A truck at the end of the street passed out bottles of fresh water to a line of civilians, many of whom wore pajamas, and its idling engine powered a single spotlight.

  “Are you guys invading Reno? Seriously?” Elise asked.

  “We’re helping,” the kopis replied.

  She seemed to have more to say—a lot more—but she didn’t get the chance to speak. A helicopter roared overhead, flying low to hover over the cul-de-sac. Its propellers kicked up dust and blew James’s hair off his forehead.

  It settled gently in the center of the street. The engine slowed, but didn’t stop.

  The door opened. Malcolm hopped out.

  “Darling,” he said, grinning at Elise’s shocked expression.

  She punched him.

  Even though he had to be expecting it, he was still flattened on the pavement. The armed guard cried out and whirled to aim the rifle at her again, but James stepped between them before he could fire.

  Elise stared at James. “This is who you’ve been talking to? Malcolm ?” She didn’t give him the opportunity to respond. She shoved Malcolm in the chest as he tried to get to his feet. “What are you doing?”

  “Elise—”

  “What have you done to my territory ?”

  “I’m doing my job, that’s what,” he said. “Calm down; we’re on the same side!”

  She moved to attack him again, but James grabbed her arm, holding her back. The look she shot him was pure venom. “The Union’s not welcome here. I’ve got a handle on the situation.”

  “Oh really?” Malcolm asked. He didn’t have to say anything else to make his meaning clear. The snowing ash was more than enough.

  “The agreement at the summit—”

  “Totally circumvented us.” She lifted her fist again, and he stepped back quickly before she could strike. “I know, I know. But give me a chance. The Union’s a whole different company under my command.”

  Elise barked a laugh. “You’re the commander ? What happened to Zettel?”

  “Demoted.”

  “Then you have the authority to let me back into Reno.”

  “I do, but—”

  “I need to speak with you, Malcolm,” James said. He glanced at Elise. “Privately.”

  He walked a few short feet away, and the commander sauntered after him. Malcolm dropped his voice low to speak under the thumping engine unheard by the others. “That’s not a woman prepared to surrender her territory to the Union right there, is it?” he asked with a frozen smile and clenched teeth.

  “We haven’t had an opportunity to discuss it,” James said. “I’ve been somewhat distracted by the impending apocalypse.”

  “I bet you have. And you’ve had plenty of reading material to keep you distracted.” His voice sharpened. “What did you think of the Prophecies? Good reading?”

  “You want to kill my son.”

  “You’re a smart guy, Jim, but you lack context. There are a lot of Union codes in there—you have no idea what any of that says.”

  James took the prophecies from his pocket and opened it to the page he had dog-eared. “‘Explore destruction of offspring.’ That’s what it says, verbatim. If I misunderstand that, I would certainly appreciate enlightenment.”

  “Well, yeah, I can see how that would sound bad.” Malcolm grabbed for the book, but James held it away. “That’s Union property.”

  The witch shook the book at him. “This is my life. This is Elise’s life.”

  “You know what the Prophecies of Flynn say about me?” Malcolm asked. “Nothing. Nothing at all. And you know what
that means? Nothing! Prophecies are uselessly incomplete. A man could drive himself to madness worrying over that kind of thing.” He suddenly lunged and ripped the book out of James’s hand. Malcolm touched the butt of his gun when James moved to take it back. “Watch it.”

  “I want to take my son and his mother to the Haven,” James said.

  “You do, do you?”

  “Yes. I want you to arrange transportation for me to Colorado, and then for my family from Colorado to the Haven.”

  Malcolm rubbed a scar that protruded from the side of his eye patch. “The terms are the same. You can take the Easter Bunny with you for all I care, but Elise has got to go, too.”

  “Of all the idiotic—”

  “Not my choice. It comes from Union HQ.”

  James glanced at his partner. Elise was having a conversation with an armed kopis by the generator, and whatever she was saying didn’t look nice. She pointed at the guard’s gun, the people in line, and the houses around them. Her shouts were drowned out by the helicopter’s beating propeller. Her hair and jacket buffeted around her.

  “I can convince her,” James said finally.

  “And what a fun conversation that will be.” Malcolm stuffed the Prophecies into his pocket and strode back to Elise’s side.

  Her yells became more distinct as they approached.

  “—children in those houses, and you idiots are so fucking trigger happy—”

  “Let’s go for a ride, Elise. We’ll have a chat,” Malcolm interrupted. He planted a hand in James’s chest to keep him from approaching the helicopter. “Not you. We’re getting people out of Reno, not letting them in. You’re going back the way you came.”

  “And what am I supposed to do? Go home? Twiddle my thumbs?”

  Malcolm tapped the side of his nose and pointed at James. “Spot on.” He waved at the kopis Elise had been yelling at. “I need transport. Take this gentleman wherever he wants outside the barrier.” He jumped into the helicopter again.

  “Elise,” James said as she followed the commander. She paused with a hand on the door, and he tucked the remnants of his Book of Shadows in her pocket. “Watch out. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  A smile ghosted across her lips. “Stupid? Me?”

  The helicopter lifted off.

  It was a harrowing ride through the black sky. The usual collection of Union monitors were spread across the cockpit, but they couldn’t be precise enough to guide the pilot through such perfect darkness.

  Yet the helicopter ascended steadily, the houses fell away beneath them, and it blew through the clouds as briskly as though it was the brightest of days.

  Malcolm buckled himself in, and Elise followed suit. Another man was already harnessed near the opposite door, feet on the skid with a gun trained on the neighborhood. She didn’t recognize him, but judging by the nasty look he shot over his shoulder, he knew her. “You were with Zettel’s unit at the summit, weren’t you?” Elise asked.

  “I guarded McIntyre when he was in custody.” She might not have known his face, but she knew his New England accent.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “I remember now. I kicked your ass.”

  He swung the muzzle of his gun around, but Malcolm leaned forward to get between them. “Remington, Elise—relax. We’re all friends here.”

  She scowled. “I’m not friends with the Union.”

  “Not yet,” he said. “But I told you things are different with me here.”

  “I’m not friends with you, either.”

  He put a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded. I thought we split on good terms.”

  “I checked out of a hotel while you were at a bar and left a note with the clerk. James and I were halfway around the world by the time you sobered up. If you ever sobered up.”

  Malcolm’s eye sparkled. “I’ve had worse breakups.”

  “I believe that.” She almost smiled. Damn if he wasn’t still a funny bastard. “What happened to Benjamin Flynn? The precog kid? Is he around?”

  “He’s not with the Union anymore,” Malcolm said. “He escaped.”

  He wouldn’t be collared anymore. He was free. Probably on the run—but free. “Good,” she said forcefully. Which only left one very large, very frustrating item of business. “You guys cut out the phones and power in the Reno area, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “This is the internet era. The Union had to act fast to keep the information contained and prevent—you know—panic. Mayhem. General hysteria.” He reached into the cockpit and grabbed a clipboard. “I’m going to have to ask you to sign a non-disclosure agreement, actually.”

  “A non-disclosure…?” Her jaw dropped. “You need me to sign what ?”

  He handed it to her. Elise flung it out the open door of the helicopter.

  “Oh, come on,” Malcolm said. “What if that hits someone in the head?”

  “You can’t isolate an entire city from the rest of the world.”

  “Actually, we can.”

  “You don’t think having no power is going to cause more mayhem and hysteria?”

  “Reno’s somewhat of a lost cause anyway.” The helicopter swung through a bank of clouds, and the city became visible under them again. They were flying low to the streets, just over the train tracks.

  She grabbed his shirt in a fist. “That’s my home you’re talking about.”

  Thumping explosions echoed through the air. A tank rolled down the road, firing on a cluster of inky-black fiends that scrabbled in front of it. Elise glimpsed them for only a moment before the helicopter lifted again.

  Carefully, Malcolm dislodged her hand. “We’re doing what we can to make this go smoothly. The Union’s been preparing for this event for weeks—ever since Flynn saw it. It came earlier than we expected, but it’s going smoothly.”

  “You call this smooth?”

  “We’ve evacuated fifty thousand people to Fallon. Another twenty thousand are headed over the pass to Sacramento. That’s pretty good, you’ve got to admit.”

  “You don’t need to evacuate if I can stop this. And I can.”

  “You’ve done really well so far,” Malcolm said. “Hear me out, Elise. Some things are too big for a single kopis to handle. Remember the Grand Canyon? You never could have done that one without McIntyre. And this event is easily triple that. Quadruple. This is a mess, and the Union’s uniquely equipped to handle it.”

  “Like with the summit?”

  Malcolm grabbed the side of the helicopter as it banked hard. “We can save lives. A lot of them. But you’ve got to let us.” He put a hand on her knee. It was more of a fraternal gesture than a sexual one. Their days of angry sex were long gone. “You don’t trust the Union, but you once trusted me to watch your back. We traveled together for, what, three months? Four? We had a good time. Nobody died. I seem to remember saving you once or twice.”

  Or three times. Malcolm was a good fighter, strong, and fun—but unreliable. Elise would have kept him around longer if she could have trusted him not to disappear and get drunk on a whim. “What’s your point?”

  “If you can trust anyone to watch your territory, it’s me. I’ve got this. You have to believe me.”

  The helicopter abruptly began to descend. Elise gripped a handhold as her stomach rose into her throat. “Where are we?”

  “North Reno.”

  “You’re letting me back in the city?”

  “A gesture of goodwill,” Malcolm said. “Finish your business. Find your friends, if you’ve got any. Keep away from my teams. They’re doing damage control, and it’s terribly dark out there. And once you’re done, then get your ass back out again.”

  “This is my home. My territory,” Elise said. “I’m not going to leave it.”

  “I hope you’ll see us in action and change your mind.”

  The helicopter touched down gently on an empty street. Darkened apartment buildings stood around them.

  He handed Elise something heavy off of the seat beside him. It
felt like metal panels covered in cloth, but she couldn’t make sense of the straps. “Bulletproof vest. There’s a lot of gunfire.”

  She almost didn’t put it on. She didn’t want to wear anything in that absolute shade of Union black with the bright UKA logo across the chest. But after a moment of consideration, she stripped her jacket and donned the vest over her spine sheath. She had to tighten the straps completely to get it to fit.

  Elise felt dirty putting it on, but if it kept her from getting shot by a confused kopis who shouldn’t have a gun—fine. Whatever it took.

  He offered her a Union earpiece. “Here.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Take it. Then you can call me when you’re ready to be extracted.”

  “Malcolm…” Elise blew a breath out of her lips. “I don’t hate you.”

  He grinned. “That’s quite the glowing recommendation, coming from you.”

  “But I hate the Union. I’m not taking it. And I’m not going to be extracted.”

  Elise dropped out of the door. It felt good to have her feet on solid ground again, even if the cold wind tasted like fire and she couldn’t see beyond the end of the street. “Avoid downtown if you can. It’s messy.” He grinned. “We’ll have to get a drink after this, if you survive.”

  She didn’t smile back. “Not a goddamn chance, Malcolm.”

  13

  The Union escort only took James as far as his car. It was up to him to pull it out of traffic and drive it over the median to head in the opposite direction.

  He passed a few optimistic cars attempting to enter the city and wondered if the Union would bother turning them away personally, or if those vehicles would get jammed in traffic like everyone else. The road was empty heading north.

  James ran out of gas on the edge of his neighborhood.

  Muttering profanities, he unplugged his cell phone again and walked the remaining distance. The houses were stirring with motion; the family on the corner was loading their minivan, and James was almost run over by another car on its way out.

  He spotted a neighbor—who he only knew as Mrs. Patrick—standing on her front step in a bathrobe and slippers. “What a night,” she called to him. “Are your phones working?”