Jack raised his sword and then raised it higher as more and more of them appeared. He had miscalculated. There were more than a hundred of them. Their numbers were astounding. Almost all of the Vena-tors in service to the European Coven had to be here. The Countess wanted her revenge very dearly, it was clear.
He was surrounded. Jack did the only thing he could—he lowered his weapon. It was useless against a group of this size. The Venator army closed in tightly around him. Their faces were calm. They had no fear. Their numbers were vast, their strength overwhelming.
“Surrender, Abbadon! Your defeat is guaranteed.” The words came from a vampire Jack did not recognize. The Venator that led this army had been nothing more than a foot soldier in the celestial army Jack had commanded long ago.
This was going to be too easy, really. He began the transformation into his true form, calling up the immortal spirit that was housed in his blood for time immemorial. Abbadon, the Unlikely. Angel of the Apocalypse. Destroyer of Worlds.
But nothing happened. No dark wings sprouted from his back, no horns grew on his forehead, he was without the strength of a million demons coursing through his veins. He remained Jack Force. Just another eighteen-year-old boy.
Ah.
So that was their game.
He had guessed as much, the moment Schuyler had drawn those two circles on his palm. Had seen her hands shake as she had put the ring on his finger. They had placed a cursed bonding spell on them, to limit his powers. To stop him from turning into Abbadon. Held back by the love she felt for him. He had noticed that telltale stone around her neck, disguised as a pendant. They were watching, they were waiting. This is what they wanted him to do. They wanted him weak and vulnerable, bereft of his immortal power.
“Something wrong, Abbadon?” the Venator sneered. “Where is your strength now?”
Jack sighed. “Do you truly believe that brute force is my only weapon? That after centuries of rule in Heaven, I wield no power but my own sword?”
The Venator smirked. “What other power could you possibly still have? After today, they will call you Abbadon the Weak.”
In reply, Jack spoke a small incantation, a prayer that only he could fashion. The glom darkened considerably, and from the fatal blackness arose the creatures of the Underworld, the Black Fire elementals at his command, as one of the First Born, an Angel of the Dark, captain of the lost and withering souls of Hell.
Abbadon might be chained, but Jack still carried his spirit, and the primal creatures bowed to their master. He screamed as he drove his dark army into battle. How ironic that stripped of his power to transform, only then did he recall the breadth and depth of the darkness that had molded him. For too long he had not made use of the powers of the Dark, had not tapped into the deep, hidden strength of the Underworld where he had been made and his name forged in fire and death.
The dark creatures overpowered the Venators in strength and number. Jack pitied the Truth Seekers until he remembered Schuyler’s anguished face from earlier that evening. The Countess had brought death and bloodshed to their bonding. That could not be helped now. He only hoped Schuyler had been able to carry out her part of the plan, that she and her friends were safe.
Jack looked down at the band of steel that was wrapped around his finger, dull and ordinary, even as its dark magic glowed with a fiery treachery.
FIVE
Rescue Party
Schuyler shivered as Jack disappeared into the glom. He would be vulnerable in the glom, just as the Venators had wanted. What would become of him? She had to trust that he would be fine. That he could take care of himself, and that he had understood what she could not tell him.
Before they had set off, Jack had asked her to believe in him and follow their plan. He would draw all the Venators to the glom and take care of them there while she and Bliss freed Oliver. Jack had been clear about one thing: whatever happened, she had to trust him. Even if something happened that she did not understand. He had asked her to promise, and she had agreed.
“Ready?” she asked Bliss, looking up at the ceiling.
“Are you sure you can do this?” Bliss asked, looking doubtfully at the thick planks.
Schuyler thought back to her earlier encounter with the Venator. She had not known the full strength of her sword until the moment she had nearly hacked apart the entire roof structure without so much as breaking a sweat. “I think I can make a little hole in the floor.” She smiled as she raised her sword to the floorboards above.
The blade carved a rough hole in the ceiling. Schuyler leapt through the gap and gazed down at Bliss. “Join me?” she asked. Bliss frowned and Schuyler realized she had forgotten that her friend now lacked the power she took for granted. “Sorry,” she said as she reached down through the hole and lifted Bliss up into the room.
They found themselves staring at a sea of blank faces. Schuyler met the impassive gaze of the nearest Venator. He looked as if he were in a trance. Her heart raced. Jack’s plan was working. He had drawn the Venators into the glom. Now it was her turn to complete the rescue.
“Let’s split up, make sure they’re all gone,” Schuyler said.
They made their way through the catatonic crowd. When a person was in the glom, their body remained limp and motionless in the physical world. She looked into the eyes of each Venator she passed and saw Bliss doing the same. The army was defenseless. Defenseless only if they had all moved into the glom, she thought. She knew better than to believe that the Truth Seekers would leave themselves unprotected. There had to be someone here who was pretending, playing dead, playing possum. She had to find him before he found her.
“Umgghh.”
The sounded echoed through the silent hall. It had to be Oliver. He was somewhere in the back, obscured by the mass of bodies. Schuyler and Bliss raced toward him from opposite sides of the room. Schuyler shoved right and left, pushing roughly through the somnolent Venators that had taken her friend hostage and threatened his life.
She found Oliver, gagged and tied to an old wooden chair.
Bliss arrived at the same time. She looked over her shoulder and said, “I think they’re all out, Sky.” Gingerly, she poked one of the Venators on his shoulder while staring directly into his dead eyes.
“Keep looking; we are not alone. I’m sure of it,” Schuyler said, as she ripped the gag from Oliver’s mouth.
He let out a quick cough and took a deep inward breath before raising his head. “Thanks,” he said softly. He looked around with tired eyes, confused. “Bliss, is that you?”
“The one and only.” Bliss grinned. “Good to see you,” she said, punching him on the shoulder.
“We need to get out of here,” Schuyler said, as she cut the ropes binding Oliver’s chest. “Can you walk?” she asked.
He lifted himself to his feet and nodded. She grabbed his hand and led the other two toward the hole in the floor.
“That was easy,” Bliss said, as they shimmied through the unconscious army.
“Not quite,” a voice said quietly.
Schuyler turned around. She recognized that voice.
One of the sleeping Venators lunged forward. It was the same one who had attacked her earlier.
“The three of you are going to help me end this,” the Venator said, and with a wave of his hand, everything went dark.
When Schuyler opened her eyes again, there was a wild howling in the background.
They were in the glom.
SIX
Abbadon’s Curse
Jack raised his fist, and the whirlwind of dark spirits paused for a moment. The shriek of their mad voices was deafening. Their twisted forms swirled in and out of focus, like some fearsome tornado writhing in all directions. He could feel the Venators’ terror. The Truth Seekers were centuries old, veterans of conflicts both human and supernatural, but the creatures of the Dark were unmistakably horrific. He let the dark mass hover above them for a moment.
The terrifying howl was momentari
ly quiet as Jack focused on the Venator captain. Jack addressed the man who had mocked him earlier. “Let Oliver go and I will spare your army. You may return to the Countess with your men intact.”
The commander grimaced. “There is no turning back for us, my friend. We were sent to retrieve you at any cost. You may have my army, but I have your friends.”
In that instant, three figures materialized in front of them: Oliver, Bliss, and Schuyler, each guarded by a Venator. The one holding Schuyler held a sword that shone with the Black Fire. Since they were human, Oliver and Bliss looked a little green around the edges. As living spirits, humans could enter the glom, but their physical and psychological makeup made their experience in the twilight world akin to a bumpy ride. Side effects included vertigo and nausea.
The captain of the Venators smiled thinly. “Surrender, Abbadon. Let the Countess help you find your way back to the Morningstar.”
“No—Jack, don’t!” Schuyler cried. “Don’t let them take you!”
So that was what Drusilla wanted. His former allegiance. A chance to redeem himself with his old master. For Lucifer had been his commander as well.
Jack shook his head slowly. The Dark had tremendous power, but its strength was unfocused. The creatures could tear bodies and weapons with colossal ease, but would not be able to save his friends from a quick knife. He could not protect his friends. He could not protect his love. He knew what he had to do. He looked at the ring on his finger.
The Venator spoke again. “The choice is yours. Surrender to us, and we shall set them free. Fight, and they shall die.”
Jack did not hesitate. He opened his fist and unleashed the wild fury of the Dark. He looked straight into his enemy’s eyes as he roared, “THEN LET THEM DIE!”
Bliss screamed as Oliver swung wildly at the man that held him, punching him roughly in the chest. But Schuyler stood motionless for a moment.
She did not know what to believe. She had to trust Jack. She had to believe he was doing this for a reason. So she had to believe that sacrificing them was part of his plan. She had promised to trust him. No matter what happened. Even if something happened that she did not understand.
“Kill her first,” Jack sneered, pointing at Schuyler. She stared at Jack’s angry, contorted face. Schuyler held his gaze for a moment, and she shuddered to see so much hate in his eyes.
It was a trick; it had to be. He was lying. Wasn’t he? She was about to panic but she forced herself to think it through. It had to be a lie, but for some reason Jack wanted her to believe he did not love her. Then she realized. Jack knew. He knew about the ring and the power it had over him, a power that was fueled by the deepest emotion in her soul: her love for him. She had to find a way to stop loving him. It was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she willed herself, she tricked herself into believing the lie. She believed it with all of her heart. Jack did not love her. Jack had never loved her. Jack wanted her dead. Jack…
And just as he wished, her love for him faltered for a moment.
The curse was broken, and the ring that held him fell to the ground smoking. The transformation was instantaneous. Jack vanished, and there was only Abbadon, the Angel of Destruction, rearing his ugly head, his dark wings beating against the wind.
With a ferocious strength, Abbadon grappled with the guard holding the black sword, and the weapon twisted under his mighty grip, shattering in midair. Abbadon lifted the frail and confused Venator by the back of his neck and tossed him toward the dark whirlwind.
Schuyler acted just as quickly, turning to face the Vena-tor whose appearance had begun this terror-filled night. She slid between Oliver and the Venator’s blade, swinging low to parry his quick blow as they twisted weapons in midair. He tossed his dagger to the side and pulled a longer blade from its scabbard. But Oliver, tired of captivity, found new strength as a shot of adrenaline pulsed through his veins. He found the Venator’s vulnerable side and delivered a powerful punch. The Venator turned to him swinging his blade, but Oliver’s diversion left his right flank unprotected.
Schuyler swung at the open spot, her blade slashing deep into his armor. The Venator wrenched sideways, confused by the multiple blows, unnerved by the strength of her sword. He tried to balance himself, but a sudden, unexpected kick from Bliss sent him sprawling to the ground. He collapsed in defeat.
Schuyler doubled over, catching her breath, when Jack laid a tender hand on her shoulder. “It’s done,” he said. “We’re safe. Let’s go.”
“Jack—” She could not find the words. Even if the battle had been won, she felt as if she had failed him. Even if it had been a trick, even if it had been something she’d had to do to restore his power, she wanted him to know that she had never stopped loving him. Not even for that instant. She had been able to trick the spell to break the curse, but her heart would always remain steadfast.
“I know,” he said softly. “As I hope you know…”
“You don’t have to say it,” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes to see Jack’s green eyes shining with their usual warmth again. It had been too frightening to believe in his anger and indifference. It spoke to her deepest fear—that Jack’s feelings for her were false, that their love was all a dream. But now as he held her in his arms, she realized her fears were a dream, and it was their love that was true.
“I am sorry for putting you through that. Forgive me,” he said, his face buried in her hair. His hand cupped the back of her head gently, but with the same possessive weight that always gave her a secret thrill.
She shook her head. It had been an ordeal, but one that they had faced together. Their friends were safe and their love was more powerful than any curse. Nothing could hold them back now.
When she blinked her eyes again, all of them were back in the physical world, in the tunnels under the villa.
SEVEN
Dress Rehearsal
A toast,” Oliver proposed, standing with his wineglass raised. There were only four of them at the table: the happy couple and their two friends who had traveled so far to be with them today. They had weathered violence and evil, and now they were ready to celebrate.
Schuyler beamed and leaned back against Jack, waiting to see what Oliver would say. After they had escaped from the Villa Malavolta, leaving the Countess’s army of Vena-tors a crumpled and disbanded heap and no longer a threat to anyone’s safety, they had followed Jack back up to the city streets. They had seen their friends safely to their hotel, and after allowing a few hours to freshen up and recover from their latest adventure, they had agreed to meet at a local trattoria for dinner.
Oliver had taken her aside on the walk from the palazzo to the restaurant, linking arms with her. “He won’t mind, will he?” he smiled, motioning to Jack.
Schuyler shook her head. “Of course not, Ollie. It’s so good to see you,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. She marveled at the ease of their affection. When they had parted ways at the airport just a few months ago, she had wondered if she would ever see him again, and it made her heart swell to see him looking so happy and healthy. “You look different. You look better. What did the Venators do to you?” she joked.
“Nothing this old boy can’t handle,” he assured her. “But you’re right. I am different.”
He told her about Freya, the witch who had cured his heart and his blood. “I am no longer marked,” he said.
“I felt it.” She nodded. She scanned his open, friendly face. “I am so glad.” They were back to their former allegiance, two friends, their emotions neatly organized back to the way it used to be. Oliver was right. It had to be magic.
“So is it serious?” she teased.
Oliver shook his head. “No. I’ll probably never see her again, but it’s okay. Don’t you worry about me,” he said, before planting a hearty kiss on her forehead.
“Hey!” Jack called. “Only the groom gets to kiss the bride!”
Schuyler and Oliver giggled, and they followed Jack and Bliss into
the small café. When the manager found out it was a pre-wedding dinner, they were treated to a feast: steaming plates of tender beef carpaccio and grilled zucchini, white truffle carbonara, ravioli stuffed with pears and pecorino cheese, a buttery and tender Florentine steak. For dessert, there were plates of Sacher torte and tarte tatin and the best tiramisu Schuyler had ever tasted.
Now Oliver was standing in the middle of the restaurant, clearing his throat. “A toast,” he said. “A toast to an amazing couple. I wanted to say something simple and elegant for this momentous occasion, so I’ll leave it to the poets instead. This is a poem that was composed for a wedding.” He began to read from a poem by Frank O’Hara. It was a winding tale of love and friendship, and the group listened keenly. “‘This poem goes on too long because our friendship has been long, long for this life and these times.’” Oliver smiled. “‘And I would make it as long as I hope our friendship lasts if I could make poems that long.’”
“Hear, hear,” Jack cheered, and Schuyler clinked his glass.
Oliver took his seat to wild applause, as even the rest of the restaurant’s patrons had stopped to listen to the music of his words.
Bliss stood up next. “Ollie, you’re a hard act to follow,” she chided. She cleared her throat. “I just want to say how honored I am to be here today. We love you, Sky, and because we love Sky, we love you too, Jack. Take care of each other. Be kind to each other. You have all our good wishes and all of our hearts. Don’t forget us and don’t forget to ask for help when you need it.” She paused, and for a moment Schuyler thought Bliss would talk about the many dangers they would soon be facing. Her friends knew that after the bonding, she and Jack would be separated, that this was just a small bubble, an oasis of happiness before a long and dark story of separation and unknown menace.
After tomorrow, the four of them would each set off from Italy on their own perilous journeys. Oliver back to New York, where vampires were being mysteriously abducted; Bliss to search for the elusive Hellhounds; Schuyler to Alexandria to fulfill her grandfather’s legacy; and Jack to return to face his twin and his destiny, to see if he could win the battle with Death herself.
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