The Chosen Trilogy Boxset

by David Leadbeater

  “What’s so important that he would risk contacting us?”

  Cheyne listened as Leah Aldridge spoke. The witch had engaged the speakerphone.

  “Our new line is premiering in Paris right now. The show’s underway. Catwalk’s hopping and the soundtrack is buzzing. Front row is full of the usual gaggle of film stars and journalists—”

  We knew this was all coming from Kinkade’s mind, not Leah’s, and he simply told it as he saw it.

  “. . . questionable musicians. Writers. The show is at capacity. But there’s a man in back. A tall man wearing a black coat—a full-length jacket. His face is in shadow, but I see him. I recognize him. I have seen this devil before.”

  Cheyne’s eyes widened. “Who do you see?”

  “The demon. Beelzebub.”

  Cheyne gasped. My eyes widened so fast it hurt. Beelzebub was the first demon of the hierarchy, and the most powerful, second only to Lucifer himself. Was the demon there to grab an artefact? Or watch Kinkade? Or for something else entirely?

  Leah’s voice cut across our thoughts. “He is studying the place as he studied it once before. He is sly, calculating, vicious. He watches and takes everything in. He watches and chooses a victim. He watches and fantasizes about havoc.”

  I listened. I thought Leah herself must be having major doubts about what she’d eaten previously this day. Maybe she would think someone had slipped her something. Not nice, but what was the alternative? To believe she was possessed?

  “He gazes backstage as if . . . as if . . . I see longing on his face! Frustration. This demon desires something it can’t yet have.”

  Cheyne gave us all a stare. “Where exactly are you?”

  “The Louvre. Well, outside. By the glass pyramid.”

  Giles spoke up. “So I’m assuming Beelzebub is there to retrieve an artefact from the museum. Perhaps the sheer volume of people present is stopping him. How many are there?”

  “Oh,” Leah said. “At the show—hundreds. But gathered to watch around the square—there are thousands.”

  “That’s it then,” Giles said. “It seems that there’s a limit as to how much death and destruction they are willing to cause, at the moment at least.”

  “Until they gain more than just a foothold,” Cheyne said. “Once they recite the chant and open all seven hellgates . . .” She didn’t need to continue.

  “So stop wasting time,” Belinda said. “And let’s go to Paris.”

  Cheyne nodded. “Hold on Kin . . . Leah. We’re coming to you. At least some of us are.”

  *

  The parting was harder than anyone thought, especially for me. It soon became obvious that I, being one of the vanguard members of the Chosen Few and the only one now surviving, would have to go to Paris and Lucy should stay. Not only that, she wanted to stay. Of course she did. I knew why, but I allowed myself to be taken by the job at hand, and its clear necessity. We had to go to Paris, and against Beelzebub only our most powerful would stand a chance. So, in addition to me it was Cheyne, Giles, Tanya and Belinda. And Natalie Trevochet insisted on coming too. A fast, hard trip would help divert her mind, she said.

  That left Lucy and Ceriden, the vampire kid Ethan, Lysette, Cleaver and Jade to continue the hunt locally for Asmodeus. Of course, the demon might not stick around now that it had the artefact, but we didn’t know for sure.

  I walked over to Lucy as Giles hugged Lysette. Goodbye was never going to be easy. I made it as caring as possible without going over the top. My daughter clung to me hard, and that almost unmanned me. It was times like these when you really got those feelings—the ones that existed deep down and wrenched at your heart and soul every time you thought about all the terrible things that could happen to your loved ones.

  Ceriden watched me over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Dean. We will look after her. And I’m jealous. You heading for a fashion show in Paris and me stuck here in Disneyland. Doesn’t seem right somehow.” He sniffed.

  “It’s territorial.” Giles affirmed. “You vamps hate it when a significant other drops by unannounced.”

  “Of course. It’s true. Strahovski has Europe.”

  I stared at Ethan. “Watch,” I said firmly. “Don’t touch.”

  He almost smiled, then thought better of it. Maybe the kid did have some brains. I held Lucy’s shoulders and gave her a warm smile.

  “Be back before you know it.”

  She nodded, unable to speak and I knew, just knew, that she was thinking about her mother and the terrible way she’d quit on us. To walk away with no word and no explanation was one of the harshest choices. It left feelings of betrayal, of devastation, of guilt, even the tiniest tinge of hope that could never be assuaged.

  “I will be back.” I endorsed my words of a few seconds before. “Believe it. Please.”

  “I do.” Her voice a whisper. “Dad, I do.”

  We moved away, Giles holding on to Lysette until the last possible second. Cheyne stood at the door.

  “Plane’s waiting,” she said. “Beelzebub won’t.”

  *

  The plane cut through brooding skies above the Atlantic. I couldn’t help but think this was a bad idea—splitting our forces. But then I remembered that the demons were seeking seven artefacts. Split was inevitable. I was now surprised that I hadn’t imagined it would happen before.

  During the flight Cheyne made an important call to the Library of Aegis.

  “Sweep through the histories containing all the hierarchy demons,” she told them. “We must find a way to track these artefacts down before they do. Somewhere, there’s a legend or a text or something that tells us where to look. At least, I hope so. It’s all we’ve got.”

  Paris glittered like a land of stars as we banked overhead. The plane thudded down, wings tipping and swaying scarily as the wheels hit tarmac and taxied into Charles De Gaulle. Within thirty minutes we were in a cab and headed through the dark for the heart of Paris. As soon as she managed to get a new signal, Cheyne called Leah Aldridge.

  “Where are you now?”

  “What? Who the hell’s this?” Leah sounded put out. “You bloody well woke me up. And how did you get this number?”

  Cheyne pouted and played for time. “You don’t remember me?”

  “What? Portia? Is that you?”

  Cheyne gambled and stayed quiet. After another few seconds Kinkade took over.

  “We stayed as long as we could. By midnight the gig and the after-show were pretty much dead, and everyone wanted to burn off some energy. The performances leave you with a million doses of excess adrenalin that so need draining. Usual way is a party, so that’s where we went.”

  “Did you track Beelzebub?”

  “Until we left. He waited.”

  Cheyne figured out the timings. “Which means he’s had four hours to himself. Let’s hope he’s still there. Leah—thank you.”

  “Of course. You should come to meet me before you go. This body—this person—could be useful to you.”

  Giles leaned forward in the back seat. “Are you offering to help? Through her?”

  “Come to see me . . . tomorrow . . . if you survive tonight.”

  The call clicked off. Giles sat back with a huff. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, you ass.”

  Tanya spoke up. “I wouldn’t call Kinkade the gargoyle an ass. Not to his face anyways.”

  “Why? He’s inanimate. What’s he going to do? Talk about me?”

  Belinda grunted. “He might sic his Victoria’s Secret model on you.”

  I laughed. “Is that supposed to be a punishment?”

  Belinda frowned at me. I ignored the look. I hadn’t totally forgiven her for giving Ken Hamilton a lap dance yet. Truth be told, I hadn’t even had time for one myself. Something to look forward to.

  *

  Outside the Louvre the taxi dropped us off, the French driver no doubt having one or two private thoughts about the English and American lunatics that had taken over his car. Though prett
y and somewhat stunning, the surroundings suddenly felt very cold and very dangerous. The glass pyramid shone like a beacon, the surrounding museum lit only where cleaning crews plied their trade. Cheyne headed toward the pyramid and we all started after her, but then Belinda stopped and stared.

  “Ah, crap.”

  The tremor in her voice made my hair stand on end before I saw the nightmare vision that had been watching us all along. It crouched at the very top of the glass pyramid, a menacing black effigy of horns, demonic wings, and blazing red eyes. I would have thought it an early Halloween decoration, only the wings were slowly moving and the eyes blinked. When we all stopped and stared it rose up on two impossibly tall spindly legs.

  “I am Beelzebub. I am Legion. I am laden with a dark and magnificent duty. I feel the blood that pumps through your hearts and now, it is mine!”

  The wings unfurled to their fullest extent and then, there above the Louvre and the shining lights in the heart of Paris, over the great square and visible from the Champs Elysees, there came swooping one of the most powerful beings in existence—Beelzebub, demon of death. I should have stood tall, I should have confronted it, but my deepest instinct was to flee, to get the hell out of there and cower in the farthest corner. My eyes must have been wild, because when Belinda turned and spotted me, she reached out and held me in a grip of iron.

  “We stand together,” she said. “We fight.”

  I nodded frantically, my heart triple-timing.

  The creature’s arc took it higher and then into a headlong dive. Wings buffeted the air. A screech like the coming of ruin stung my senses. I saw its tongue. I saw its teeth. I saw fire spitting between its jaws. Like a living dive-bomber it zoomed between us, claws raking, forked tail whipping to and fro.

  We scattered, diving every which way. One of the tails smashed Giles across the head, making him cry out and smack his skull against stone. A raking talon snicked past my face, so close I could feel the breeze of its passing. It had come within a hair’s-breadth of flaying my cheek to the bone. Fire spat and spurted to the ground, not gouts of flame but small spatters as if they were leaking from the demon’s innards, a by-product of its anger. The flagstones sizzled. The right wing slammed into Belinda, knocking her off her feet and sending her sprawling. At the extent of its dive the demon swooped up into the air again, suddenly vertical.

  And screeched with bloodlust and glorious rage.

  We regrouped. The attack had come so fast it was more than breathtaking, it was overwhelming. Cheyne was on her feet, a chant pouring from her mouth. Giles was groaning but thankfully conscious. I stared up at the ascending monster, fists clenched tightly enough to crush horse chestnuts.

  “Logan!” Belinda cried. “Logan! Your power!”

  I remembered who I was. The power swelled in my chest, mostly a reaction to my fear of this demon. I saw Natalie crouched at my side, head in her hands and tears rolling down her face. A protective instinct took over. I was a guardian now, one of the Chosen, and my given power demanded that I step up and be counted.

  Tanya and Belinda stood in a kind of frustrated powerlessness. They were warriors, hand-to-hand fighters, and Beelzebub wasn’t giving them the chance to get in on the action. It was up to Cheyne and me to bring him down.

  Beelzebub spun at the top of his flight, swept over in an arc and came again—arrow straight. The hellfire eyes pinned me. Much too soon I unleashed my steadily mounting energy, shooting everything I had at the plunging beast. It rotated in mid-air, evading the power blast completely. This was no arrogant, conceited beast with mighty delusions and a god complex, this was a superior warrior. It dived under my blast, leaving it to shoot high into the sky and fizzle among the clouds.

  Cheyne fell to her knees, ignoring the approaching monster. She stared at the ground, every ounce of concentration going into the spell she was trying to weave. How she knew where Beelzebub was I don’t know, but she rose at the same time he fell upon her . . . and was wreathed in black flame.

  The demon struck then recoiled, shrieking. Its jaws snapped together beside her head again and again, like a petulant dog at the end of its leash. Cheyne didn’t even flinch. Fire spat from the thing’s mouth, fizzling against and running off her black shield, striking the paving flags and burning there, reflected in the many glass parts of the pyramid.

  At another hard stare from Belinda I again thought to gather my power, this time funneling it more carefully.

  Beelzebub whipped at Cheyne’s shield with its spiny tail, screaming each time it struck, but making the witch flinch and sweat.

  “Can’t . . . hold . . . much longer, guys.”

  Beelzebub roared, pulling away and spreading its wings. The terrible eyes never blinked, just regarded us with pitiless fury. I saw agonizing death and the lowest depravations in that nightmare glare and gathered all my power. At the last moment, shaking, terrified, I felt a kind of balm fall over me—a calming moment that helped focus my power.

  What the hell?

  No one could be helping me. Not Belinda, not Tanya or Giles. Not Natalie who wept on her knees, eyes pinned by the demon’s. And certainly not Cheyne, whose strength was waning by the second. The witch had turned pure white, every limb shaking with strain.

  But I didn’t have time to wait. Carefully, I flung my arm toward Beelzebub. A streak of energy blasted straight into his midriff, causing a screaming gyration of the dragon-like creature. It twisted hard, head down, then rotated back up, mouth wide. It appeared stunned.

  I wasn’t done yet. Again, with precision, I threw out my other arm, unleashing another surge of power. I tried not to show that my reserves were already depleted. Without Johnny to help this was no longer a bottomless source of energy. I stood tall and strong; well, as tall and strong as I dared in the face of a hellish demon.

  But I had Belinda at my side. And others around me. I was part of a great team.

  Beelzebub reeled from my newest attack. The clean, clear fire exploded against his skull, totally obliterating him from sight for a few seconds. Even his hell-spawned screech was lost beneath the sound. Cheyne let her shield drop and stared hopefully.

  The demon dropped from the sky.

  Not necessarily a good thing.

  Belinda pushed us aside. The great beast crashed against the flagstones, limbs and wings squirming, kicking and flailing as it tried to right itself. The head darted left and right. I stared in utter amazement and admiration as both Belinda and Tanya waded in. Belinda ducked under a kick and hit hard at the thing’s thighs. Tanya struck at its stomach, both women staying well clear of the deadly skull. Once grounded, the demon’s wings were its Achilles heel. They were fragile, thin. Belinda stepped on one of the spines that held them together and stomped hard. Tanya pressed on the skin of the wing itself, breaking right through. Beelzebub shrieked and tried to roll.

  I dropped to one knee, exhausted. But even then, I could feel power inside me, needing some release. The feeling unnerved me. Could it fire me up from inside? Immolation didn’t sound like a nice way to go. I wanted to help but lacked the physical energy. As I knelt there, I felt the power start to diminish.

  Natalie crawled to my side. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so. But damn, that is one scary bastard.”

  “Thank God Cheyne was prepared this time.” Natalie’s eyes filled as she said the words, her husband’s death never far from her mind.

  I touched her arm. “We will avenge him.”

  She sniffed. I whirled as Beelzebub’s scrambling’s grew more frantic, I heard Cheyne shouting something about the artefact.

  “Find it. We must find it to stand any chance!”

  Then, with a burst of horrendous strength, the hierarchy demon surged up like a fiery black dawn, all rage, fire and destruction. Tanya bore the brunt and was hurled off her feet, sprawling against a wall. Belinda fell to her knees but pushed against the fury, still trying to stay up close with the creature.

  “Our glorious reign
will soon begin,” it growled, the sound of a thousand knife-blades grating together. “Bow down now and learn your rightful place, pathetic humans!”

  I tried to get up, but the creature flexed its huge wings and started to rise. The downdraught staggered us all and rattled the glass that covered the pyramid. Nearby parked cars started bleating as their alarms were triggered.

  Beelzebub took flight.

  I stared up, my eyes filled with powerless despair as it streaked away, deep and insane laughter rumbling from the depths of its belly.

  Belinda shook her head. “That’s another artefact lost. If we don’t pull this together, guys, we’re gonna be in a world of hurt.

  Literally, I thought.

  TWELVE

  Emily Crowe stood tall atop a high outcrop, surveying her kingdom. Around her Death Valley spread in all its archaic splendor, truly a land from ancient times and the one best suited for her task.

  Not only that but the final artefact, the one that would be hardest to procure, lay not far from here.

  She was not alone. Melissa, her trusty sidekick, sat at her feet, remaining silent until spoken to. And now, standing on the valley floor a few feet below her, were two great hierarchy demons—Baal and Belial. They were here to facilitate and help, to make doubly sure everything went to plan. They were here to lend support and add their infinite power to Crowe’s brilliant strategies. They were here to initiate the start of hell on earth.

  Melissa hugged Crowe’s leg. Crowe kicked her off with a snap of disgust. Baal looked up at her, the black holes that were his eyes swimming with visions. Crowe had already begun her call to arms. Many supporters and followers were starting to arrive at Death Valley, and they were gathering in groups.

  They had brought tents. Camper vans. Coaches. They had come on foot, by car. They were following her call right down to the bare bone. Summoned by dreams of violence, drawn by malicious thoughts of terrible intent, they followed their hearts, ending up in Crowe’s backyard. She remembered all the rock songs she used to sing, all the verses she had written that had seemed so innocent at the time.