Advent: Book 3 of The Summer Omega Series (Summer Omrga)

by JK Cooper

  Shelby jumped over her fallen friend, landing with her knees on the demon’s chest and shielding Bryanne with her own body. Concrete chunks bounced off her armor, hitting her square in the middle of her back. It sounded like a storm of lethal hail and almost felt like getting shot. Yes, she remembered that excruciating pain well from the warehouse with Sherman and Lucas. A final crunching thud ended the storm. Shelby started, stunned by the vibrations she felt reverberating in her bones. The final piece of concrete was the size of Elias’s old desk in his study. It missed Shelby and Bryanne by no more than two inches.

  Bubba fell to a knee.

  “Yeah, I need more fuel, son,” Bubba said. “Quick like, ya feel? That was too close.”

  “You okay?” Shelby said to Bryanne.

  Bryanne nodded. “Had worse.” Her eyes flashed red and Shelby felt herself and the demon lift slow as the golden spike of wood grew branches and climbed upward, sprouting leaves. The Druid slid her leg out from under the beast, wincing. “That’s a lie. This leg is shattered and the demon blood is bad. I’m no Lycan, but I can speed the healing process. I’ll need your help.”

  The DJ with the bow jumped from his balcony, landed easily, and ran to his wisp. The flame looked dimmer, still spouting jets of orange flame.

  “Fizz!” He wrapped his hands around the wisp, ignoring the fire. His hands covered the tiny creature of flame for a moment. When he opened them again, the wisp looked healthier, though his hands were a mess of third-degree burns, some all the way through from palm to back of hand, showing bone between.

  “We’ll need to help him too.” Shelby began reaching out to the ley lines, but Bryanne grabbed her hand.

  “You need to know what it said just before it died.”

  Shelby blinked at the white knuckles on her own. “What?”

  “The Summer Omega will not complete Ascension. He is coming. Tarloch rises.”

  Grant swore as another of their strongholds fell. Someone was definitely feeding the Advent pack intel. “We need to be unpredictable. Have the remaining survivors fall back to places we would never consider. Non-Christian churches, YMCAs, homeless shelters, rehab centers, nunneries, orphanages, Wiccan gathering halls.”

  “What?” a woman in camo asked from the next table over.

  “You heard me. Find such a place in every city where we have troops and get them safe.” The group at a row of computers began searching maps online and shouting out coordinates. “And someone put me in contact with Wiccan Supreme. We should probably warn her that Hunters will be showing up on her doorsteps around the world.”

  A sat-phone slapped into his palm.

  Hours later, Collins placed a steaming bowl of something in front of him. Grant blinked tired eyes. “What’s this?”

  “Chili, sir. It’s my grandpappy’s recipe. Has some kick, both due to spice and the secret ingredient: caffeine.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Most of the remaining Hunters in the world were somewhere relatively safe for the night. There wasn’t much more he could do, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep. Grant picked up the spoon and cracked open the book he’d inherited from Jack.

  The first few lines froze a spoonful of chili a few inches from his mouth, the steam crossing in front of the words. It is time you knew the truth. There is no hope of winning this war. Earth is doomed to repeat the fall of Alsvoira. It is simply a matter of time.

  Grant put the spoon back into the bowl and kept reading.

  You have been lied to, and you will now be required to continue the lies. Once you complete the higher vows, you will know all the unseen horrors, but you will dole out hope, bedtime stories of Hunters prevailing. But there is no stopping the death of this world. It was set in motion long ago by a being more powerful than any we know.

  It has always been a Hunter’s solemn duty to slow the process, to give humanity one brief, shining moment in the sun, before destruction and ruin. We keep magic in the shadows where it cannot grow in the light of day and entice those who wait for such a feast. Magic will still grow.

  The Summer Omega, Alpha Prime, and Advent will bring to pass Ascension, a time when magic reigns, flaunting it before the beasts of ash and flame. A flood of darkness will soon follow.

  It is true, we have stopped this in the past, but time repeats itself. We may stop Ascension a thousand times, but the one time we fail will be the end of everything.

  Grant pushed the book away. “What is this garbage?” His stomach growled. He finished off the chili in seconds. The book waiting patiently beyond the bowl.

  Grant growled as he licked the spoon. It almost felt like the parchment called to him. There were whispers in the air. He grabbed it, debated chucking it across the room, but decided to skim ahead first, see if it gave him anything of worth further in.

  He flipped several pages, but felt compelled to turn one more. He recognized the feeling as coming from outside himself.

  Ice ran through his bones and a bead of sweat crawled down his temple, but he flipped the page. The vows Hunters make during initiation are a pale imitation of the higher vows, which must be earned through patience and dedication.

  Grant thought back to his initiation, which had been an intense ritual involving blood, pain, and fire while making sacred vows to give his life in service to eradicating magic and the abominations that use it. “A pale imitation. I’m not sure I want the real thing.”

  “What was that, sir?” Collins placed a second bowl of chili in front of him and retrieved the empty bowl.

  “Just arguing with the sacred book of our fearless leaders you put in my hands.”

  “Jack carried it for months, talking to it constantly. Honestly, sir, it always gave me the willies. Feels like it’s watching you, if you know what I mean.”

  Grant stared at the book. It stared back. “I do.” He grabbed the boy’s wrist before he could leave. “Get me Bryanne. If anyone knows anything about this book, it’ll be her.”

  Collins looked like he might protest. Grant glared at him, daring him to say something. The boy swallowed and set off at a sprint to find a sat-phone. Grant turned the page and read. “It will be nice to talk to the Bandruí again anyway.”

  Bryanne filled herself with magic as her bones knit back together. It was nice wielding it again without the painful drain caused by their recently deceased stowaway. Some of the magic still flowed away, but slower and in smaller amounts, spiraling off in more than one direction, which wasn’t the best of omens.

  There are more demons in this world today than yesterday. Not great, not great. Oooh, that wisp is pretty.

  The Fae’s companion hovered over her legs, helping along the healing. Chelsea and Shelby also leaned over her. Someone put something in her hand.

  Bryanne stared at the sat-phone for several moments before realizing what it was and what it meant. She put the small brick of plastic to her ear. “Hiya, Grant. Did you hear we killed a demon? It was mean.”

  “Yes, what did I say about keeping my daughter out of trouble?”

  “Hey, it rode the bus with us. What’s a Druid to do? Ask for its ticket?”

  “Are you okay?” Grant hesitated before continuing. “You sound drunk.”

  Bryanne giggled. “A lot of magic in these veins. Fae magic, Bandrui magic, Wiccan magic, even a little Lycan thrown in. It’s an unusual, and heady mix. I broke some stuff. I’ll be right as rain in a minute though. You should ask me out when the world isn’t ending.”

  “What?”

  Bryanne smiled, even as part of her felt a rising horror at her words. “You heard me.”

  Grant chuckled. “Deal. If we survive the coming apocalypse, and you remember this conversation, I will ask you out. In the meantime, can you tell me about magic books?”

  “Grimoires?” Bryanne closed her eyes and tried to focus. “You can’t use one.”

  “No,” Grant seemed to be searching for the words too, “more of a possessed book that guides me to the spots it thinks I should read.”
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br />   “Ghosts were never my thing.” She opened her eyes and swished a hand at the wisp. “They could hide in books I suppose.”

  “I’m not sure if it’s a ghost. Just something odd about it. Keeps trying to get me to do some ritual.”

  “Then do the ritual.” Bryanne scrunched up her face. “Depends on if it’s a good ghost or a bad ghost though. Could be a spell too. I’d have to see it in person to know for sure.”

  “I may have to fly it out to you or you to it then.”

  “That’s a weird first date, Grant.” She picked at a newly formed scab. “I like it!”

  “Ummmm . . . I should probably try back when you have less magic in you.”

  Bryanne nodded several times. “Okay, buh bye.” She clicked the button to end the call.

  The Fae called his wisp back with a short whistle and spoke to Shelby. “That’s as good as it’s going to get with magic, at least for now. Demon blood is nasty stuff. Your friend is going to need time.”

  Chelsea stopped her chanting. Shelby leaned back. Bryanne let her magic go too and rolled an ankle to check on the healing. Fire tore through her leg. “Yep, that’s going to sting, but it’s not broken any longer.” She glanced at Shelby, groaned, and put her head in her hands. “Did I really just command your father to ask me out? Tell me that was a hallucination.”

  Shelby grimaced. “Nope, that happened alright. It was painful to watch.”

  Bryanne looked up from her hands. “Wait, did he say yes?”

  Niff set down the crate of fruit he’d been carrying as a section of stone wall to his left fell away. A rush of warm, humid air poured out of the opening. Someone just added to Underhill? We aren’t in a building phase. He glanced inside the newly added cavern and swore at his idiocy. There was an exception to building phases. Underhill would extend itself to absorb any newly created demon gate, to protect the world from easy incursion.

  Bells warning of the addition tolled down the hall. More bells began ringing in the distance as other gates became active. Goddess give me strength.

  Niff reached for the bow on his back as sparks flew from the edge of the gateway. He killed a dozen demons before anyone arrived to aid him, but the Fae woman fell to teeth and claw seconds after she arrived.

  Niff went through every arrow in his quiver, leaving a body on the floor for each one. When the quiver was empty, he pulled a short staff from his back and twisted it to release the concealed blades at either end.

  Twenty more demons fell, their black blood coating his skin in streaks of onyx. Arrows flew past him as more of his people came to his aid, but the demons continued to pour from the portal, crawling over their fallen kin with no sign of remorse or mourning. They more slither than crawl, Niff thought, like serpents, without love or affection.

  He staggered back as four fought him at once, claws and spines flashing in the electrical light of the demon gate. He sensed a fifth demon fall from above, one he hadn’t seen. He had a moment of surprise before a talon pierced his heart.

  Niff fell, eyes glued to his chest as the obsidian spine retracted. His orange blood mingled with the black on the floor. Like my favorite human holiday, Halloween. I would have preferred a treat instead of a trick. It was his last thought.

  Bells tolled throughout Underhill. Silphinaera sat up in her bed as she recognized the three distinct tones that let her know which portals were active. She’d posted hundreds of guards outside each chamber after the last incident, but feared even those might not be enough. Another bell tolled, and her fear grew. A new gate. It’s been centuries. We are not ready.

  She pulled several rings from concealed slits in her nightgown. The rings sprouted titanium blades as her will flowed into the living metal.

  Shadows clattered through the entrance to her bedchamber, spindly spidery things that crawled up the walls and across the roof with awkward staggering movements. Their faces were a purplish-red full of jet-black eyes. Each of their nine legs had a mouth.

  “Well, aren’t you lovely?” One of her knives dropped the nearest. It twitched on the floor as it died, spitting green venom and hissing loudly.

  A second knife removed two legs of the second. The third flew at her, kicking off the wall with all its legs. She spun, her gown twirling with ironic grace, and skewered the abomination mid-flight. She dodged to the side as it hit her dresser with enough force to splinter the thick wood.

  “That was an antique.” She sighed and danced away as the now seven-legged one shot spines from its mouths. One caught her in the thigh, and she sneered. “That’s a neat trick.”

  She ripped it from her leg, knowing it surely held some nasty poison. It burned, and her vision fogged. She took a second to alter the entropy in her leg, encouraging the poison to want to be outside her body. Green liquid oozed out, followed by orange. Her blood. Clicking came from behind her just as a mouth bit into her neck.

  She swung a blade up, severing the thing’s leg at one of the segments. The venom leaked out of her again, but it took more effort, and more shadows were crawling through the entrance. I’ll not fall so easily, miscreants.

  A larger shadow came through, but Silphinaera was having trouble focusing her vision. She threw a knife, but silver metal flashed in the air and knocked her blade aside.

  “You’d think you’d welcome the help.”

  Silphinaera squinted. “The King of Unseely Court in my bedchamber? What will the Fae think?”

  He stabbed a spider demon off a wall with his spear and threw the carcass at another. “That this is hardly the first time.”

  She chuckled and fell against a wall. “Might be the last.”

  “Well, then let’s make it a night to remember, shall we? Let’s take half this demon army with us.”

  She pushed off the wall and pulled another knife. “Yes. Let’s.”

  Thick scents of decay and death wafted out of the demon’s mouth after the magic holding it shut dissolved. Theo stood over the body, not happy about the task in front of him. He held out an arm to motion the odd group of Lycans, Wiccans, Hunters, a Druid, and one PK back. “This is going to be gross. I need to bring the head back with me to Underhill as proof I took care of my mistake.”

  The Lycan with Druid eyes lifted her hand, the scythe appearing there. “This felt like a butter knife against that skin. How will you do that?”

  “You’ll see.” Fizz landed on his shoulder. Theo opened the front pocket of his ruined jacket. “Here ya go, buddy. You did so great. Rest up now.”

  Everyone stared at him. It was the PK, now back to his fit self after half a dozen candy bars, who finally said something. “Ain’t nobody gonna say nothing bout the fireball that just crawled up in his jacket?” A girl at his side shushed him. “Oh, yeah, I’m the crazy one for asking?”

  “It’s my wisp. I’ll explain later.” Theo grimaced at the demon. “First things first.”

  He poured his will into the demon’s body, but not the head, increasing entropy more than he ever had before, more than he thought he could, inviting decay, increasing friction, and encouraging molecular bonds to break. The crimson skin went dark purple, hints of gray appearing in splotches. The stomach bloated, distending itself to huge proportions before collapsing in on itself with a wheeze of foul-smelling gasses. The group stepped back farther.

  Theo continued. Skin pulled away from skin, flesh rotting beneath it and falling away with wet smacks inside exposed onyx ribs. Finally, the entire body deflated and fell as dust to the concrete floor, leaving the still fresh head behind.

  The Alpha Lycan held out a trash bag he’d had someone retrieve from one of the bins at the fringe of the room. “Well, that was the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Theo dropped the head in the bag, took it from the Lycan, and tied a knot in it to seal the stench inside. He glanced at the fading flower on his wrist and then locked eyes with the Alpha, expecting some resistance to his next request. “I need the green, gold, and red eyed girl to come with me too. It�
�s kind of important in undoing my banishment.”

  The Alpha nodded. “Of course. She won’t go alone though.”

  Theo frowned. “I was only told to bring the girl.”

  The Druid took a step forward. “Were you expressly told not to bring anyone else?”

  Theo rubbed his jaw, the new skin of his hands stinging at the familiar habit. “No. Looks like someone knows how to handle the Fae.”

  The Druid smiled back and then winced. Her leg hadn’t fully healed.

  Theo examined his palms. He suspected she’d put most of her magic and energy into healing him. He could return the favor. “We have magic that can finish healing you too. Will you be joining us?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of missing it. You’ll need to bring about five or six of us, or none at all. We’re a package deal.” The Druid crossed her arms.

  Theo sighed. “Holding a portal open to Underhill that long is going to hurt, after all the magic I’ve used tonight.”

  The Lycan-Druid girl partially shifted. “We can move fast.” She was at his side a half second later to prove her point.

  “Okay.”

  Kale sprinted through the portal to Underhill as soon as it opened, dodging to the side so Shelby wouldn’t run into him. She still bumped into his back but gently and totally on purpose.

  “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” She winked at him, but her eyes widened, and her scythe appeared in her hand. “Something’s wrong.”

  Kale had enjoyed the physical contact for a second too. Their bond was beyond repair now, the shreds of it seemingly cauterized by the demon’s hunger. Touch was the closest they had to it now, and Kale did not mind that one bit. Bonded or not, Shelby was still fully tempting to him. But something was wrong. There was a thick, sweet aroma in the air that he didn’t recognize, but it mingled with smoke and a familiar stench he had recently become very acquainted with. Demon breath.