Hidden Worlds

by Kristie Cook

  I went into attack mode. With a ripping sound and a sulfuric smell, I knew Marcas had managed to discard the one he’d been wrestling with.

  I threw a light ball and watched as it hit the chest of the closest of the three Demons left. He flew backward a few feet. It wasn’t the most effective attack, but it bought Marcas some time.

  I heard more than saw some of the SOS warriors move our way. A young man engaged the Demon I’d hit and managed to slice through his chest with a thin looking rapier. The Demon screamed. Four more moved out of the shadows. I counted six now.

  “They’re coming in fast!” I called over to Marcas. We had been separated, and he lessened the distance between us.

  “Just keep shielding, Blainey,” Marcas ordered.

  I nodded. Fear made tingling tracks up my spine. Would we even make it out of the battle in order to seek the ring? The Demons cackled and howled. The more noise they made, the more confused I got. Were there more of them?

  Marcas lit into another Demon. He had him on the ground before I had a chance to blink. His claws lunged at the Demon’s chest and I looked away only to see two more Demons taken out. One was stabbed through the chest by Alessandro and another was pinned to the ground by an African-American man with a weapon I’d never seen before. I didn’t doubt I’d be introduced to it eventually.

  I felt an energy approach me and I threw out my shield. The strike hit my invisible wall hard. More Demons moved out of the dark. I was discouraged. Could we really keep up?

  “Chin up. The odds are never balanced in battle. You only die when you lose faith in yourself and in your comrades,” Alessandro said breathlessly as he swung around me in order to slice off the head of a Demon crouching low near the house. I had to swallow my own bile.

  Alessandro patted me quickly on the shoulder as he swung back into the battle. I watched him go. Handsome even in middle age, his hair shone dark, his face was lined from years in the elements. Bitterness showed in his expression, but I saw the kindness in his eyes, the same kindness that attracted me to his mother. He and Maria were more alike than I’d anticipated. He was right. War of any kind, even small ones, are never fairly balanced. I just needed faith. I should have that, right? Angels are supposed to be faithful. This whole journey had more than tested the faith I had.

  I looked up and cried out. A Demon moved in behind a young warrior, and I threw a light ball at the Demon’s head. It barely stunned him. His claws reached toward the man’s neck. I screamed at him, but I knew it would be too late. The man turned and his eyes grew wide. I couldn’t let him die.

  “Give it your intentions!” I heard Marcas’ words scream into my head, and I threw my guilt, shame, and need to save his life into the next light ball and hurled it without thinking.

  It blew the Demon in two. I threw my hands over my head and cringed as the Demon’s body fell in pieces around those of us left fighting near the house.

  There were exclamations everywhere. The field of battle experienced a deafening moment of silence. I removed my hands slowly and found human and Demonic eyes alike locked on me. The gazes I managed to catch looked afraid. I didn’t blame them. I scared myself.

  “What the hell was that?” Alessandro asked as a Demon growled and lunged toward me. Alessandro ran him through with his sword.

  I had managed to scare the enemy, but in return I’d also managed to gain their ire. Every Demon in the field turned to me.

  Marcas moved in front of me and began his attack. Several members of the SOS and Alessandro joined in. The battle had seemed fierce before, but now it was crushing. Devastating. They wanted me! People were putting their bodies between me and the enemy. They would die. I grabbed at Marcas’ shirt.

  “I can’t do this!” I cried out as one of the warriors near us was clawed in the gut. I could feel the anger rising in me. I wouldn’t be the reason these people died. I wouldn’t! Marcas pushed my hands away.

  “You can, Dayton. You can,” he said harshly. It was the first time he’d ever used my name. I stared. Tears were pouring down my cheeks.

  “Fight back! Don’t let them see your reservations. Demons feed off your weaknesses,” Marcas ordered.

  I wiped clumsily at my tears as he turned to engage another monster. I saw another of our men go down. My resentment built. I couldn’t decide if my tears were born of my despair or my anger. Did it matter? I gathered up my energy.

  A Demon snuck up on me, and I felt its claws dig into my calf muscle. I fought hard not to scream. I could hear Marcas growling from somewhere near me and knew he’d felt the wound.

  The Demon crawled up my leg. He was a small creature but deadly. He resembled a spider and everything about him was sharp. I felt him crawl up my arm and I pooled the energy I’d gathered together. This light was full of despair and regret. Anger, and even vengeance.

  I gritted my teeth as the Spider-Demon moved to my neck. I could see Marcas stepping toward me, but I moved away. I wanted the creature to bite me. I wasn’t sure why. I just knew if I fed it my power, something big would happen. Its fangs made its way into my neck.

  I cried out despite my resolve not to and shoved my energy into it. The Spider-Demon grew rigid and fell at my feet. A chorus of screams went up around us.

  “Jesus!” I heard one of the warriors murmur just as I fell to the ground weakly. The bite had drained me. I wondered belatedly if the fangs had been filled with venom. My power concentrated on the area, and I felt something drip down the side of my neck. Was the light shoving out any poison? More screams filled the air. I looked up wearily and saw light bursting forth out of several surrounding Demons. My eyes widened.

  “What did she do?” Alessandro asked Marcas in amazement. Five Demons suddenly went down at once. All of them were surrounded with light. One bite had done all of that. The light at my neck shoved hard, and I put my head between my knees. Nausea engulfed me.

  “Don’t let me die,” I begged the light.

  I was scared of death. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was because I wanted the chance to live before I died. Maybe it was because I wanted to make sure the ones I loved didn’t die too. Truth was, I just wanted to live. It was selfish of me. I pushed myself up. Shouts and swearing filled the air. I think Marcas answered Alessandro, but I didn’t make out the words. More poison dripped down my neck, and I felt stronger. Was Marcas suffering it too? I looked up desperately.

  “Marcas!” I called out. I saw him a few yards away from me. He turned my way. I saw the bite at his neck, but there was no poison. I sighed in relief. Alessandro watched the two of us a moment before motioning at me.

  “Get her out of here, Marcas. She’s managed to kill the Demons closest to us in one swipe. It’s put us ahead of the game. She doesn’t look capable of much more,” Alessandro said quietly.

  Marcas moved toward me and lifted me into his arms. I struggled and he tightened his grip.

  “Just let go,” he commanded and I went limp.

  The light at my neck was weaker. It had healed a lot of the damage and didn’t need as much power to do the rest. Alessandro moved up to us.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  His eyes met mine. I nodded, and he walked away. I didn’t want any gratitude. He would hate me before long.

  Marcas carried me into the house, and I let myself lean against him. The air was thick with power and I knew from the feel of it that the witches were sending out a shield. It was a strong one and I hoped it helped. Their chanting was hypnotic.

  A man approached us and asked Marcas if I needed medical attention. I could hear moaning everywhere.

  “I’ve got this one. Her injuries aren’t bad,” Marcas answered firmly. I turned my head into his chest. I knew what his intentions were even without asking him. The battle outside was dwindling and it was in our favor. I’d put the odds in our hands. Now, we were going after the carpet while everyone around us was distracted. The doctor nodded and Marcas moved on.

  Sounds of despair surrounded me,
and I realized with chagrin that the room we were moving through was full of injured men and women. I kept my face in his shirt. We were in another room, the sounds more hushed, when Marcas put me on my feet.

  “We need to go now,” he said quietly.

  I nodded and let him lead the way. He went into an office built into the side of the grand staircase. It was a small room, and I didn’t understand the reason behind our presence there until Marcas suddenly went up to a thermostat built into the wall and twisted it hard. I watched in amazement. I was suddenly Nancy Drew and I was waiting for a secret door to swing open. It didn’t happen.

  “What are we doing?” I hissed nervously.

  My gaze swung to the open door. Marcas twisted the thermostat again and a loud whooshing noise filled the office. The wall pulled apart in two different directions.

  An elevator? I’d never heard of a secret elevator. Or maybe I’d just never read any books or seen any movies with any. I needed to Google it. I was suddenly interested to know if one had ever existed in reality or in fiction. My thoughts babbled and ran together, trying to distract me from the horrors I’d witnessed that night.

  I was at my breaking point. There’d been so much death, so much blood . . . it was enough to drive any sane person mad. I began to understand, just a little, why Damon had been driven insane. Marcas stepped into the elevator and held out his hand. I took it and stepped in beside him.

  “Hold on tight,” Marcas said quickly.

  I wrapped an arm around his waist just as the elevator doors closed firmly. We sped upward so fast my stomach dropped into my feet. I pictured Gene Wilder in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and I panicked.

  “We’re not going to go through the roof are we?" I yelled as Marcas steadied himself visibly. I was literally climbing up the side of him. I did NOT like heights.

  “We’re not going through the roof,” Marcas answered as he tried pushing me away gently.

  I fought him as the elevator lurched to a stop and we both fell into the doors. They opened and we sprawled out onto a roof. It wasn’t very graceful, but I wasn’t letting go until I knew my feet were on solid ground. The cement under my cheek made me feel better. Stars were everywhere above us. Marcas pushed himself away from me and stood cautiously.

  “Follow me and be careful where you step. The roof is lined with motion sensors. Once we find the rug, we have to go as soon as we get it. Using it will set off the alarms,” Marcas ordered.

  I stood carefully and moved after him. Using it?

  “How are we supposed to make it out of the house unseen once we have it?” I asked warily.

  He threw me a look. I narrowed my eyes. Something was terribly wrong. I could feel it. Using it?

  I paused. “Exactly what is this carpet?”

  Marcas didn’t answer. I could hear the fighting going on below and my chest constricted. I felt like a traitor. Marcas stopped at the corner of the roof and motioned at me. I moved closer and found him standing in front of what appeared to be a greenhouse.

  “This is it,” Marcas said confidently. He looked back at me.

  “When I open this door, we have to go. There is no time for doubt. Understand me,” he insisted.

  I nodded and got ready to run. Marcas pulled open the door and stepped inside. I stepped in after him, my eyes widening in disbelief. I looked at Marcas as he pushed a button on the side of the greenhouse. The roof opened above us.

  Tapping Marcas on the shoulder, I asked frantically, “How are we supposed to carry that thing?”

  The carpet I was looking at was huge. At least the size of two large living rooms. The color was rich reds, browns, blacks, and the design was strong. Marcas glanced from me to the carpet. The look I saw confirmed my fears.

  He pointed at it. “We fly.”

  The alarms went off.

  Chapter 35

  In myth, the Carpet of Solomon was a flying carpet that allowed the wise king to transport whole armies of thousands of men. In truth, the carpet was much smaller than that but no less magnificent. Created not only to aid Solomon, the carpet can also seek out his other artifacts. Its flight path will lead to the ring.

  ~Bezaliel~

  “You want me to what?” I asked Marcas shrilly.

  He pointed at the carpet again but didn’t say a word. We fly? Not this half Angel creature! I didn’t do heights. I started to turn away but Marcas grabbed my shoulders and pushed me toward the carpet. The alarms around us were deafening.

  “Go, Blainey! Now!” Marcas ordered.

  I swallowed hard but didn’t move.

  “Oh, this is just great! We’ve gone from the Bible to Arabian Nights,” I grumbled as Marcas pushed me somewhat roughly from behind. I lifted my leg and stomped rather hard on his foot. He didn’t even flinch, but it made me feel better.

  “I’m going, okay! Geez!” I said quietly.

  I was incredibly freaked out by heights. He knew this. Even my pride couldn’t keep me from hyperventilating. I took a step forward gingerly.

  “At least tell me this thing has seatbelts. It’s the law right? Click it or Ticket,” I asked lightly as Marcas moved in behind me.

  “Just sit down and be still. Do that and you’ll be fine,” Marcas said.

  He was annoyed I could tell, but I was too shaken up to care. Being dragged into this hadn’t been my choice. Of course, I had to concede, it wasn’t his choice either but. . .

  “Easy for you to say,” I grumbled as I sat cross legged, as close to the center of the huge rug as I could get.

  I’m sure he’d clocked some massive frequent flyer miles in his Demonic lifetime. The only trip I’d made had been to Italy and my stomach still protested at the thought. To make matters worse, this wouldn’t be inside a vehicular metal body. We’d be completely exposed to the elements.

  Marcas sat behind me, so close my back lay against his chest. I tried not to wiggle. His proximity unnerved me, and I fought the urge to move.

  “If you’re that bothered by it, just close your eyes, Blainey,” Marcas practically growled.

  Yeah, he was annoyed. I shifted a little. The tone of his voice made me defensive. The alarms grew louder.

  “I’m not bothered by it,” I argued.

  He hrrrummmphed. The carpet suddenly moved, and I yelped. Oh my God! Just breathe, Blainey. Just fucking breathe!

  “Your mouth is going to get you into trouble, Dayton,” Marcas said from against my back, and I cursed. Crap! Had I been talking aloud to myself?

  “Thanks for the insight, Craig.” I mumbled.

  He remained silent. Maybe I did need to watch my language more. I didn’t need more trouble than I already had. The carpet moved upward, and I forced myself to breathe evenly. I wanted to close my eyes, but that would admit a weakness I was not willing to admit. He knew I didn’t like heights, but I didn’t want him to think I was a coward. I could do this. Stubbornly, I looked straight ahead, watching as the night sky enveloped us. Stars twinkled, closer than the norm, and I concentrated on the beauty rather than the fact we were getting higher. Wind whipped my hair, and I shivered.

  “It’s a chilly way to travel,” Marcas said suddenly, his voice breaking through the night as he leaned closer.

  Leather material fell around me, and I realized he must have used his powers to produce the jacket he’d worn when we first met. I felt thankful for his sudden charity. Not only was the leather warm, but it kept my vision limited. As thankful as I was for the warmth, I was just as irritated by his help.

  “If you start singing A Whole New World, Aladdin, I’ll puke,” I muttered. Marcas backed away a little.

  “A simple thank you would have sufficed,” he said as I lamented the warmth of his jacket. It still fell forward around me but not as securely.

  Blast me and my mouth! There were screams from below us and I looked down, startled. The movement made me grab for Marcas’ jacket. Not only was the distance terrifying but so was the scene laid out before us.

&nbs
p; The battle was still going strong. The members of the SOS were frantic. They were fighting off the Demons we’d led to them while frantically moving toward the house. They’d heard the alarms. A tear slid down my cheek.

  “I’m a traitor,” I sobbed silently. The wind whipped the words right out of my mouth. Marcas leaned in from behind me.

  “We need the ring, Blainey. The carpet will take us to it. Even your friends understand that or they wouldn’t have helped,” he said coldly.

  I didn’t find any comfort in his words. I was a traitor. I was aiding and abetting a Demon. That simple fact remained.

  Looking up at the sky, suddenly the height seemed less important to me than the magnitude of what I’d just done. People were dying below us.

  Conor was battling with them, Monroe and Lita were helping the Coven, and most of the Jacobs family was working to help the SOS. The Jacobs had always taken care of me in some fashion or another. I was betraying them.

  I sobbed into my hands. The wound on my neck throbbed. The light pushed at it. I cried out. The last of the poison dripped down my neck, and I opened my eyes to find the cloudy image of a very beautiful woman wavering in front of my face.

  I cringed and crawled back into Marcas. What was this? Marcas’ arm came around me, and I knew he could see her as well.

  “Son,” the woman said with a chuckle as she glanced between Marcas and I. She had raven hair with skin as alabaster as the moon. Her lips were as red as blood. She reminded me of the description the Grimm Brothers used to describe Snow White minus the whole child-like, innocent princess persona. Her eyes narrowed and shone red.

  “Daughter of Bezaliel, hear my cry. You will die, Naphil. If not tonight, then soon. Our battle isn’t finished. It has just begun,” she warned before fading mist-like into the night. The poison dissipated.

  Another sob escaped me. Marcas didn’t have to tell me who the woman was. I knew instantly. Her spider had bitten me. She had sent me a personal message I couldn’t ignore.

  “Lilith,” I whispered as I looked toward the moon. It was full tonight. My friends were fighting a battle I’d run from to find a ring I thought could end this war. Or at least manage to pacify most of the Demons and even Angels who might want me dead because of Marcas.