by Steve McHugh
Kristin lay back, expecting death.
“What are you doing?” Abaddon asked. “I’m not going to kill you. You’re the first person to get close enough to stab me in hundreds of years. I’m sort of impressed. You’ll have to re-earn my trust, but I don’t really want to kill people who are useful to me. We can teach you how to make yourself even better: even more powerful. But you will have to prove yourself, too.” Abaddon took several steps back.
Kristin’s head started to swim, and a green fog swept over her body and inside her as she inhaled. The clone beside her died as nausea swept over her. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
“Not me,” Abaddon said. “Elizabeth. You’re going to prove yourself to me by killing her. You live, and you get to come back to the fold.”
Elizabeth stepped in front of Kristin with a smile on her face. “I’m an umbra, remember? I can mess with people’s heads. Head spinning, nausea, and weakness: it’s all one big package of awfulness. Even Abaddon isn’t immune to it.”
Abaddon said. “She’s my very own pestilence. Which is funny, because the last person who called themselves that was not someone I’d want to work with.”
Kristin noticed that Abaddon had moved several feet further back than she had been only a few moments ago; Abaddon was going to let her die.
“You know when I said that I didn’t care that you tried to kill my daughter?” Elizabeth asked Kristin. “Well, I lied. I did care. Cared very much. It filled my bones with rage and took everything I had not to tear your face off. She is my blood and she is not yours to kill.”
“She’s alive,” Kristin said, her vision darkening as she found it harder and harder to think.
“My power renders people almost defenseless,” Elizabeth said. “You should have just stayed loyal. Not questioned what we told you.”
“I will,” Kristin said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it felt as though each word boomed inside her head. Then the sickness vanished, but Kristin remained on the floor, panting as sweat drenched her body.
Elizabeth dropped a knife by Kristin’s head. “Come kill me. See if you’re good enough. I’ll give you a chance.”
Kristin got to her knees and picked up the knife. She tossed the leather sheath aside with shaking hands. “Give me a second,” she said. “World still spinning.” No one complained as Kristin stood and slowly walked away from Elizabeth. She looked back at Abaddon. “Why do this? Why not just kill me?”
Abaddon took a step toward Kristin. “This is more fun.”
“Should have paid more attention to my clones,” Kristin whispered as one of them appeared next to Abaddon and stabbed the necromancer over and over again in her side. Abaddon picked the clone up by its neck and crushed its skull before punching Kristin in the chest hard enough to collapse her sternum, sending her flying through the air to crash onto the runway.
“How dare you?” Abaddon screamed in rage, her face contorted with pain and fury. She walked over to Kristin, who struggled to breathe, and kicked her in the ribs over and over again, each blow breaking more bones as Elizabeth watched.
After what felt like an eternity, Abaddon stopped and ripped off her shirt, tossing it aside to examine her multiple stab wounds. Kristin looked up at Abaddon and watched as she used her power to heal herself. Kristin had hurt her. Abaddon should have been honest; people who lied to her deserved to die. Deserved to be hurt. Abaddon had to feel Kristin’s wrath, no matter the outcome. She smiled.
“That used up every last bit of energy I had,” Abaddon said. “I have no more souls in my body. Do you know how long it took me to take some of those souls?” She stamped on the side of Kristin’s head, bouncing it off the tarmac.
“Just kill me,” Kristin said breathlessly, barely able to form words.
Abaddon reached down and picked up Kristin by her hair, holding her up. “Kill you? You little asshole, I’m going to keep you alive as my new personal stress ball.”
“You’re such an idiot,” Kristin said, spitting blood all over Abaddon’s face.
Abaddon unleashed her temper and threw Kristin on the ground, repeatedly attacking the defenseless woman until she no longer moved. Then Kristin’s skin began to glow as her drenik took control of her body.
Abaddon watched with a fascinated expression as Kristin’s body healed itself. Drenik-Kristin got to her feet and a dozen clones appeared beside her.
Abaddon turned to Elizabeth. “Kill Kristin. Frankly, she’s not worth my time.” She walked away, closer to the hangar.
Drenik-Kristin got her feet and stared at Elizabeth as she walked closer. Drenik-Kristin smiled. “I’m going to tear your throat out with my teeth,” she said.
Elizabeth stepped forward, raised two silver daggers, and started cutting through the clones in an attempt to get to Drenik-Kristin. She spread her power, weakening the clones and making them easy targets. The clones died, but came back in an instant. After some time watching this, Abaddon raised her hand and blasted a large number of clones with her necromancy.
With the path clear, Elizabeth moved quickly, slashing the silver blade across Drenik-Kristin’s throat before burying it to the hilt in her forehead and pushing her down onto the tarmac without a word.
Kristin took control again as she died. She watched Elizabeth turn and walk away, watched her talk to Abaddon—although she couldn’t hear what they said. Abaddon waved at her, and Kristin felt nothing but fear of whatever was going to come next. She closed her eyes and saw the spirits who she’d once bonded with come toward her.
An elderly man whose name Kristin didn’t remember stood before her. “I guess you get to join us,” he said. “Maybe you weren’t better than us, after all?”
Kristin smiled. “I did more with my life than any of you. I had the courage to use my power to its fullest.”
“And now you get the chance to wait with us until someone else comes along and picks up your scroll.”
Kristin looked at the emptiness all around her.
“Hundreds of years. Maybe longer, maybe shorter. We have no way of knowing.”
The fear of the situation overwhelmed her, and Kristin desperately tried to figure out how to escape.
The elderly man laughed as the scenery around them changed hundreds of times, showing snippets of her life. “You think you’re better than us? Well, now you’re one of us. You’re just one of the spirits in the scroll waiting for a new host.” The old man faded away, leaving Kristin alone in the cell where Nergal had found her.
Kristin regretted little of her life, but as the memory of Nergal stepped through the cell doors and offered her a chance at a new life, she tried in vain to say no, and when she couldn’t, she finally realized what her hell was going to be.
29
Layla sat on her knees on the grass close to where she’d fought Jared and Kristin. She breathed in and out slowly. Jared was dead, Kristin had escaped, and her father had also broken free the first chance he’d got.
Chloe sat beside her. She’d been fighting blood elves while Layla killed Jared.
“You think Kristin’s dead?”
“She was badly wounded,” Chloe said with a slight sigh. “Also, that ring on your finger, that actually works. Good job you were far enough away from me it didn’t affect my powers.”
Layla looked at the ring. “It burned out. Doesn’t activate at all anymore. I think Harry will have to work on it again.” She stood and looked over at the runway as a Hercules took off.
“I’m glad someone managed to get out of here,” Chloe said.
When the first blast of energy hit the engine, both Chloe and Layla were on their feet, staring at what was happening, hoping the aircraft could get away. The second blast, and subsequent crash, horrified them.
“How many people were on that plane?” Layla asked.
“I have no idea,” Chloe said softly. “Those poor people. They didn’t deserve that.” She tapped her finger against her ear. “Did you see that?”
&nb
sp; There was a pause as Chloe listened to whoever was talking on the other end. Layla tuned out while the conversation continued and watched the black smoke. People had been on that plane. People who were trying to escape had died. She took one step forward.
“You need to be careful,” Rosa said from beside her. “You can’t use Terhal again so soon. And we both know that if Abaddon was responsible for that attack, you can’t beat her.”
“Thanks for the pep-talk,” Layla said.
“Just being realistic.”
“Your mother is out there somewhere,” Servius said as he appeared next to Rosa, before taking a step away. “She does not appear to be the virtuous woman you remember.”
“Apparently not,” Layla said.
“You honestly believe that?” Servius asked.
Layla shook her head. “It was meant to be a simple mission. Just get my father back to the compound to ensure that Nergal didn’t reach him first.”
“Jared would have still betrayed you,” Rosa said. “But he might have killed someone close to you. Your father might have escaped a long time ago. You can’t live on what ifs. What you know is that Abaddon is over there, and your mother is probably with her.”
“And they’re going to get away if someone doesn’t stop them,” Servius said.
“Meaning Chloe and me.”
“You don’t have to stop them,” Servius said. “Just keep them occupied. The other choice is to wait and lose them.”
“Abaddon was once considered a god,” Layla said. “How the hell do I keep a god busy?”
“With stubborn tenacity,” Rosa said. “You’re good at that.”
Layla smiled, and the three spirits vanished. She turned back to Chloe, who looked less than thrilled about the conversation she’d just had.
“They’ll join us on the runway,” Chloe said. “Fenix is already there with a few of his people.”
“What’s wrong?” Layla asked. “Any sign of my dad?”
Chloe shook her head. “Sorry.”
“He’s a problem for later. I assume you want to come with me while I piss off a god?”
“Of course,” Chloe said, her expression brightening up. “What else am I going to do today?”
The pair set off toward the runway and noticed four blood elves running toward them at full speed.
“I’ve got this,” Layla said, and once the elves were only a few dozen feet away, she reached out to take control of their swords, dragging them clear of their sheaths and driving them into the blood elves’ chests. They dropped to the ground, dead.
Layla released her hold on the power and staggered forward a little. Chloe was immediately by her side. “You okay?” she asked.
“Lot of power used in a very short period of time,” Layla explained. “Probably should have just used a gun. Probably need to find a gun.”
Layla stopped by the blood elves and pulled one of the swords from the closest body. “Until then, this might come in handy.” She passed it to Chloe and removed a second for herself.
“I hate these things,” Chloe said, making a disgusted expression as they ran toward the airfield. “Blood elf weapons creep me out. It’s the black metal, and the fact that they just look like some sort of torture implement more than an elegant blade.”
Layla knew how Chloe felt, as her own feelings weren’t far from her friend’s, but the sword was necessary, and the quicker she could get rid of it and scrub her hands clean, the happier she’d be.
The pair ran onto the tarmac and saw Kristin’s broken body, her ruined face, and the silver dagger embedded in her skull.
“I know she was an evil piece of crap,” Chloe said, “but that’s harsh, even for her.”
“She really pissed someone off,” Layla said.
Chloe looked all around. There were several destroyed cars and more than one helicopter on the runway, but most of it was clear, even with the burning wreckage of the Hercules in the distance. A second Hercules sat at the far end of the runway, next to two Black Hawks, although Chloe or Layla could see no one close by.
“You think Abaddon has already left?” Chloe asked.
Layla pointed to nearby hangar where a white-and-yellow Cessna sat out in front. “Looks like someone is planning an escape. We should go look.”
“This is beginning to feel like one of those horror films where the pretty girl goes into a house with no lights on and doesn’t even bother trying to turn them on.”
“The pretty girl? Really?”
“Well, I figured I’d make myself feel better before I get my arse kicked by someone who just killed Kristin and blew up a Hercules.”
Chloe and Layla moved toward the hangar and were about fifty feet away when gunfire erupted from inside. They ran toward the noise as two of Hades’ Special Forces ran out of the building, firing at some unseen foe inside. Commander Fenix was the last to leave. He turned back to his people as a blast of energy struck him in the chest, knocking him to the ground.
Two of his team ran over to help him, but a masked woman stepped out of the hangar, and with a wave of her hands they both dropped to their knees. She wore a black mask with a red slash across one eye, faded jeans, and a gray hooded top. She held a sword by her leg as she stepped around Commander Fenix, who was crawling away, and killed the other two soldiers with quick swipes of the blade. She looked up at Chloe and Layla and walked back toward Fenix.
“Don’t,” Layla shouted.
The woman turned back to the two women and shrugged. The commander had moved behind a nearby truck that was mostly in good condition, and Chloe ran over to him, keeping an eye on the mystery woman.
The masked woman moved around the Cessna, her eyes never leaving Layla.
Layla hoped she was wrong about who the woman was. She hoped that her father had been lying, but then she saw the small Celtic cross on an index finger, and her chest filled with hurt: it felt like she’d been hit by a car. Her mother was alive. She opened her mouth to say something, but found that the words wouldn’t come.
The woman removed the mask and dropped it to the floor. “Hello, my dear.”
Layla had tried to prepare herself to see her mom for the first time since that fateful night when she was killed. She remembered the early morning phone call from the police, the feeling of helplessness, of pure disbelief as her brain tried to come to terms with what the officer was telling her.
Whatever Layla felt when she noticed the tattoo on her mother’s finger was amplified tenfold when she removed her mask; and for the briefest of seconds, Layla wanted to run to her. Seeing her mother’s face again, hearing her voice, it was almost too much to bear. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the hurt she felt.
“So Dad wasn’t lying. You’re not dead,” Layla said.
“No,” Elizabeth said. “I’m very much alive.”
Layla was about to say something when her father’s warning came back to her. “You’re not really my mom.”
“What a horrible thing to say to your mum. Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“You died. We buried you. I wept over your coffin. I saw your body.”
“Not me,” Elizabeth said. “We got a shapeshifter to take my place. Unfortunately, that meant killing him once he’d done it. Elizabeth Cassidy is officially dead.”
“You don’t sound like her.”
“I am her.”
Layla shook her head. The woman standing before her looked like her mom; her voice was the same, but her mannerisms, her tone, were all wrong. “What did Abaddon do to you?”
“Made me better. Now, come with me and we can be a family again.”
Layla couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. “No,” she shouted. “You’re not her. You’re just wearing her face.”
Chloe ran over to stand beside her, grasping Layla’s hand and squeezing a little. “Fenix is hurt,” she whispered. “But he’ll be okay.”
“You going to introduce me to your friend?” Elizabeth asked, her voice
angry.
“I’m Chloe, and you’re meant to be dead.”
“Abaddon saw to my continued existence.”
“She made you an umbra, too,” Layla said, feeling better at having Chloe beside her. “I saw Dad. He’s not exactly thrilled about your continued existence.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose he is. I assume you’re here to stop Abaddon. Or try, because there’s no way you’ll defeat her.”
“Just here to say hi,” Chloe said. “Wanted to see how the queen of the shitheads is getting on.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Your friend has a smart mouth. It will get her in trouble.”
Layla shrugged. “She’s been okay so far. There was a time I thought you might have agreed with us, but you know what, I’m not sure you were ever the person I remember. I think you were a little too helpful where Dad was concerned. You aided him in committing the murders.”
“Occasionally, yes,” Elizabeth said. “I worked in a law firm. I had access to clients who were guilty and got away with their crimes. My boss even helped me on occasion.”
“I wonder: just how much has dying and becoming an umbra honestly changed you?” Layla asked. Whatever she’d once thought of her mother, whatever memories she’d had of her kindness were tainted by the idea of her helping her father all along. The anger and betrayal she felt at what she’d discovered boiled over. “You’re not my mother,” Layla snapped. “You’re just wearing her skin. My mom was a lot of things, and maybe she did help Dad, but she was also sweet and kind, and she loved me. She would never have hurt my friends. She would never have chosen to help Abaddon.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Enough. I think, before this happened to me, I’d have found it impossible to kill you. Now, I’d simply rather not, but if you push me, you’ll both die here.”
“Where’s Abaddon?” Layla asked.