Dajjal took it and thought it may break, but it held firm, much stronger than expected. With little effort, Morax had brought him to his feet, busily brushing away what ash and stains he could.
“Leave it, leave it!” Dajjal instructed, “It’s only spreading around. As much as I liked this one, a new suit is in order I think.”
“I shall ensure you get one,” Morax stated. “The best.”
“Good,” Dajjal said, stepping over unidentifiable remains toward the door. “Now tell me of these physical preparations that need to be made.”
“Of course, my Lord. We must first place blood wards along…”
Dajjal raised a hand quickly and Morax stopped.
“Before I forget, after hearing all these wondrous things you plan to tell me: I must ask a favor.”
Morax furrowed his brow but his many wrinkles stayed in place.
“Anything.”
Dajjal’s eyes were wide, shifting back to their demonic state. “Do we have any fire drakes and wyverns in the northeast United States?”
Morax pondered for a moment, scratching his thinning hair. Some pulled out as he moved his hand back and forth.
“I believe the closest would be in Grand Isle, Vermont under beast-master Crocell. I shall of course double check for you.”
“Excellent,” Dajjal beamed. “Send two of them to attack the Order headquarters building.”
Morax blinked once, long and slow, wondering if he had heard Dajjal’s casual statement correctly.
“I beg Your Grace’s pardon?”
“Do you have wax in your ears, Morax? I want two fire drakes borne by wyverns, or any other flying beast for that matter, sent to New York to attack the Order right at their base of operations.”
“My Lord, a force of that size would not even make a dent in the building’s defenses, if they even got that close. It would be a suicide mission for all involved: all beasts and their riders.”
“Would it not be an honor for them to do this in service to their Lord?”
“I… o-of course it would be.”
“Excellent, so see it done,” Dajjal replied. “They are free to decimate or kill whatever they want outside the Order’s protections, so long as they reach the headquarters. I plan to send a message to them on two fronts. Now, back to Paris, tell me what is to be done there…”
As they left the reeking command center, Morax’s mouth split once more and it was a frightful sight of twisted lips and jagged yellow teeth. He couldn't have been more thrilled with all the great things to come.
MARCUS RACED ONTO Front Street, chomping at the bit to get to HQ since the Odyssey docked above the abandoned storefront a little more than half an hour ago. A chilled breeze flowed over him, sending his hair to stand on end, but he didn't care – only one thing on his mind.
“I'll hail a cab,” he said, bringing his phone to his ear.
Ty was next out of the door and immediately his cheeks flushed pink and he zipped up his leather coat, pulling its wooly hood over his long and messy hair.
“Geez!” he exclaimed. “It was a lot warmer today in France!”
Shifting his small backpack from one shoulder to the other – no doubt stuffed to capacity and beyond by enchantments – he looked over at Marcus, pacing frantically as the cabbie was apparently giving him a hard time. Just then the door closed behind him and Ty turned around.
It was Gage, bringing up the rear looking a damn sight better than he had while in what was Rennes-le-Château.
“Holy fuck, I'm gonna get sick again!” Gage commented, locking the door and zipping up his own stylish jacket. He looked over to Ty. “This time I'll be sure to take what ya give me right away. Ya should go ahead and prep some after we get settled.”
“Don't worry,” Ty said, smiling, “I might have already made some.”
Gage smiled too, his white teeth almost shining in the fading sunset.
“Damn, ya know me well already.”
“I'm a keen listener,” said Ty. “Always had to be since the Incursion. Hell, I think I'm an even faster learner.”
“Lucky for us you're on our side then, boss.” Gage stepped up and placed a hulking grip on Ty’s shoulder. “Glad you're here buddy. Especially for Marcus.”
They both looked over to him, still on the phone and still irritated.
“Think he's gonna blow a gasket?” Gage asked.
“If history is anything to go by…” Ty replied, cut off by Marcus’ sudden shouting. “The answer is yes.”
At last Marcus pressed the end call button and turned his attention to the others. His face was red, but it was difficult to tell if it was caused by the phone call or the cold.
Ty guessed it was more the former.
“Marcus,” he said, “did you bring a coat?”
“No,” he replied, suddenly realizing how cold it was. Rubbing his exposed arms, goosebumps had formed across his tattoos.
Ty took off his and threw it over to him.
“Here, take mine,” he insisted.
“Bro, I can't,” Marcus retorted. “You're gonna freeze your ass off before the cab gets here.”
“No worries,” Ty continued, opening his bag and reaching in well past his elbow. He rummaged around for a few seconds until he felt soft fabric. “Gotcha!”
Pulling out his arm, he had a hold of a gray thermal shirt which he immediately drew over his large shoulders and chest. It was very form fitting, accentuating his aesthetic lines. A swift pass of his hand through his hair set it in place.
“It's been a while since I've worn this,” Ty said, apparently trying to apologize for the obnoxiously tight fit.
Gage gave him a curious look, half a smirk on his face.
“What?” Ty asked pointedly, unable to keep his eyes on Gage for too long.
“Hmm? Oh nothin,’” said Gage. “It's just… ya either had a lot of gains in gym, or ya bought that shirt just for that fit.”
Ty become redder; it must've been the chilly air.
“Haha, don't worry man,” Gage continued, walking up to the curb, “I do the same thing – when I actually wear shirts.”
Marcus stepped up to Gage's right; Ty on his left.
Front Street was still undergoing construction efforts, the sight of cones and scaffolding seemingly a permanent fixture on the already too-narrow road.
They weren't left to wait long, a car horn beeping to signal the arrival of their ride. Out of thin air a pair of headlights beamed brightly, followed by a shimmering car behind them. The old beater rolled up in line with the trio and its truck popped open, the wheels skidding to a halt just in time for a booming backfire.
“Are all the cabs like this?” Ty asked, looking wholly unimpressed.
“What're you talking about?” Marcus asked back. “This one’s far nicer than the one we took from your equally shabby hotel.”
With that Marcus climbed into the back seat and Ty followed.
Gage took a minute to look around before closing the trunk – they didn't have a need for it this time – and clambered into the back seat as well.
Ty realized this cab didn't have expansion warding and now with Gage pressing firmly against him, he was unlucky enough to be the bread in the middle of a Gage and Marcus sandwich.
“How long of a ride is this?” he asked, uncomfortably close to Gage’s face.
“About ten minutes in this thing,” Gage replied, giving Ty a wink just to make him feel extra comfortable.
“That's gonna be ten long minutes,” Ty said as the cab jostled, taking off down the street.
AT LAST THE cab made it to 50th and Broadway, the Sherdians and Gage eager to exit. As always, before the door had even closed the cab was away with a bang, vanishing amongst the bright lights and traffic.
They walked down the street a little way until they came upon a large roll up door.
“We’re finally here,” said Marcus with a lot of relief. Turning to the door, he spoke commandingly. “This is Marcus She
ridan, Journeyman XI.”
There was no reply and Marcus’ face fell flat at once.
“Not this again…” he groaned.
“When’s the last time you used the door?” Gage asked, knocking gently on the metal slats.
It dawned on Marcus that he hadn't had to activate the doorway himself since just before the new year; he'd always been with someone that would do it on his behalf since he was preoccupied with Joey’s condition. He cleared his throat and spoke again.
“This is Marcus Sheridan, Journeyman XII.”
“Welcome Mr. Sheridan,” came a hollow response from the metal. “Please state the password.”
“Aurea mediocritas.”
The door remained unchanged and once again Marcus was tempted to kick it violently.
“This is Gage Crosse.”
“Welcome Mr. Crosse,” said the guardsman. “Please state the password.”
“A-Ayray…” Gage struggled, not one for much Latin, “Ah hell, the same damn one Marcus said just now.”
The door didn't respond again and Marcus scratched the back of his head.
“They must have been changed since we left.”
“Can’t say I blame them, now with these recent attacks it's better to be safe than sorry,” Ty spoke, at a complete loss on what the new keyword would be. “You two have any ideas on what they would have changed it to?”
Both shook their heads.
Suddenly, the metal door rumbled and shook, the massive shape of the guardsman plodding to one side.
“You three have been granted access by permission of Councilor Jane Carter,” it said in a deep and echoing voice. “Please enter and head to the Council chamber at once.”
Marcus smiled, stepping through while Ty and Gage followed him into the entrance hall.
“Good ol’ Jane,” Gage said as the portal closed. He observed Marcus – the look in his eyes was enthusiastic, but also down. “Y’all go ahead and see Joey, I know that you need to more than anything, M. Can ya tell Ady to meet me over there, outside the elevator to the council chamber? I'll be waitin’.”
“You sure Gage; you don’t want to come on up?” Ty asked, giving him a quick handshake.
Gage nodded, wishing to give them time alone, and turned to Marcus.
“Ya go and see our boy,” Gage said, wrenching Marcus in for a bear hug. He squeezed him tightly in his arms, Marcus not complaining one bit. “This’ll all be fixed up really soon, okay buddy?”
Marcus sniffled, his face pressed firmly against Gage’s chest. Something about his scent was comforting and he could tell why Adrienne, hell even Joey, were crazy about him. Pulling away, there was a sparkle in his eyes which trailed down his cheeks.
“Will do, Gage,” he said, wiping away the tears. “I’ve told you this before but thank you so much… for everything.”
“Ain’t no thing, my man. Now go on.”
Ty came up and put an arm around his brother’s shoulder. He pulled down his jacket’s hood and used a hand to mess up Marcus’ hair. “Come on bubba, let's head up and see your man.”
The two left and took the elevator to the hospital ward. It wasn't long before they arrived, passing by the many friendly faces of the nurse staff and even the dreaminess of Dr. Ross. A few of the nurses were engaged in what had to be an enthralling conversation with him, all of them smiling with perfect teeth; himself through a flawlessly manicured beard. Even his laugh was sexy, and the ladies swooned.
Marcus watched and couldn't wait to smile like that with Joey again.
Ty knocked gently on the room’s door and Adrienne bid them enter.
“Hey guys!” she said, whispering as if not to wake Joey up. “I heard about the attacks and have been a mess since then! So glad you both are okay. Speaking of messes: where's Gage gone off to?”
Marcus was the first to give her a warm hug.
“He's gone up to see the Council,” he told her. “Seems Jane wants to discuss some things with our group. He's asked that you go down and meet him by the elevators.”
“So you go on now, I know you're dying to see him,” Ty said, swooping in to hug her as well. “Marcus and I will hold down the fort while you're away.”
“Thank you,” she said, unable to hold back her happiness. She stepped into the bathroom grinning and ran some warm water, splashing it on her face before patting it dry. “I'll see you two soon. There's so much I want to hear about when I get back, especially the town.”
“Oh!” Marcus said just as she started to close the door. She poked her head back inside, brunette hair bouncing spiritedly. “When we arrived we found out the password had changed. Do you happen to know what it was changed to?”
“Libertatem,” she replied softly and then was gone.
Ty watched as the door closed and as it clicked, he turned to see Marcus already in position beside Joey.
“It looks like all of his vitals are still borderline, but he’s coping pretty well.”
“That's good to hear,” Ty said. “Adrienne seemed calm about it. He’s going to be much better once we administer this treatment.”
“So, not to rush things,” Marcus said zealously, “but when can we use the cup? Is it something we can do right now?”
He looked around, spotting all sorts of fluids in the room, even a half-drunk bottle of water.
“I wish it was a simple as that,” said Ty as Marcus scowled. “I really do. However, we just can’t yet. Obviously we know the cup is needed and thank God we actually have it…”
“Speaking of that, where is it?” Marcus interrupted, eyes the size of saucers.
Ty skirted his gaze over to his shoulder, where he gently shook his bag.
“Not far at all,” he replied, “but yeah, I'll need Henry to help me figure out what actually gets placed inside and, if possible, how the alchemical process works. That way we can be prepared for things should they go south. Not saying they will, of course.”
Marcus was obviously impatient about all of this, but certainly understood the need to get things right and be ready with contingencies. After all, they were far closer to fixing this now than they had been before.
Waiting a little longer wouldn't kill him.
GAGE WAS WAITING by the elevators, his back against the wall, arms crossed, and a foot propped up in support. He had nodded off for a brief second, taking any chance he could for some sleep.
“There’s my sexy beast,” came a gentle voice from the hall, rousing him from slumber.
“Didn’t ya see I was sleeping?” he asked while keeping his eyes closed.
That’s when he felt a hand grab hold of the front of his jeans; their snug fit didn’t provide much of a barrier.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Gage,” Adrienne tittered. “Just this little guy right here.”
“Little guy, eh?” he scoffed. “Well, when all this is done I’m gonna be sure to have a chat with the both of you about this blooming relationship. The ‘little guy’ is gonna have a hard time breathing where I’m sticking him.”
“Promise?” Adrienne whispered, leaning across Gage’s chest.
She pressed the call button and then, when righting herself, slowly brushed his beard against the side of her face. It was always so soft despite its thickness. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, the two of them stepping inside.
Once the doors had closed Gage swooped in, bringing her lips to his. They kissed passionately as a car raced skyward and the air seemed to rush from her lungs. Her head spun with delight and she needed to sit, held up only by his firm, strong arms.
“I wasn’t joking about paying you attention soon,” Gage whispered, Adrienne settling her head on his broad chest.
She unzipped his jacket and slid her delicate hand inside. It felt around for a little while before gripping his plain tee shirt firmly. Part of her wanted to tear it off and let loose her built up erotic feelings, but another part won her over and it just wanted to hold him close and not let him go.
Of course she would be naïve to think there wasn’t any more to come. Inevitably it was going to get harder and come at them faster the closer they got to achieving their goals. However something told her – something she had trusted for a long time – that at the end of the long day they were in, this big brute of a man she fell in love with one fateful night in Houston would always be there.
“I love you, you grizzly fucker,” she muttered into the folds of his shirt.
He reached around and strummed his thick fingers through her hair.
“Always, darlin’,” he replied and they both fell quiet for the rest of the trip skyward.
THE COUNCIL CHAMBER was dark, except for the faint light coming from a circular ring that hung in mid-air like a halo. It was above the circular meeting table where five of the six councilors had gathered, Tyrol off in the far reaches of Bavaria negotiating an alliance with an ogre known as the Lord of the Mountains, who had at his disposal a large herd of Tatzelwurm that could be useful as cavalry.
“So tell me, since we seem to be expending a lot of energy in avoiding this question: what are we going to do about these increasing attacks?” asked Drogir fiercely, his hard face far stonier than usual.
Jane raised a hand in an attempt to calm the mounting situation.
“I called for a formal response to the one in Warminster. We are doing all we can right now,” she replied, looking directly to Drogir who had taken an unkind bend to his gaze.
“We need more ACTION Jane, not these paltry responses to Dajjal’s actions,” said the gargoyle, crossing his arms and while out a low grumble. “We should be taking this fight to him, directly.”
Curls of scented smoke floated across Drogir’s face and he tediously fanned it away.
“I motion that we make this room smoke free, now,” Drogir stated, his eyes almost demon-like. “Must you carry that pipe of yours everywhere you go?”
“Motion denied; it’s a cultural thing,” Quileth replied as his tiger-like fur bristled, blowing another satisfying cloud. “In all seriousness Drogir, we are already striking their bases everywhere we can. It has given us useful information and is certainly slowing down their advance, especially with the more elite operatives going in and supporting the field.”
Then Hell Followed (Journeyman Book 5) Page 10