The Seventh Age: Dawn

by Rick Heinz

  Vertovi, in a slick black suit and diamond cuff links worth more than Gabriel’s house, looked up from a backpack full of gear. Vertovi smiled when he saw the six of them getting off the elevator and filling the hallway, with weapons brandished.

  “Evening, gentlemen. My escorts for purgatory, are you?” he said. His dashing good looks had the ability to disarm most people.

  “You could say that,” Cael responded and slammed his staff into the marble floor. An arc of lightning zigged across the floor in odd angles. Vertovi spun with the experience of a dancer and ran past the windows, his shoes so polished they reflected the arcing electricity on the floor. He ran past them before the electricity detonated where he was seconds before.

  “Thanks for holding the elevator.” Vertovi thrust his hands out to his sides to begin the spell. The windows bent and distorted, causing the cathedral outside to appear warped. Columns of metal and glass screeched as they began to buckle. The elevator doors shattered and crumpled. Then, as the spell neared completion, everything else behind him, including Gabriel’s own allies, was thrown into the middle of the hall.

  Vertovi was the first to recover. His unnatural speed gave him enough time to remove his cuff links and roll up his sleeves. “You’ve been shanking us inside purgatory for weeks, one by one, by—” He became an unintelligible blur as Slade received a kick in the face, Gabriel’s feet were pulled out from under him, and Cael was pulled to the ground by his hair.

  Gabriel spun when he lost his footing. It felt as if a thousand impacts bruised and broke his body before his face bounced off the cold concrete floor. The iron taste of his own blood streamed from his mouth. The ground shook twice as Cael and Slade were both slammed down. With one eye half-open, Gabriel could see Vertovi’s shoe crush Cael’s skull, spraying thick green blood everywhere. Vines quickly sprouted from the wound, writhing around, collecting what blood they could.

  Slade winked at Gabriel, and then pushed himself up without a scratch on him. After dusting off his leather jacket, he flipped off Vertovi. “Oh, we are done with the one by one. It’s time for the big show. That’s all you had in you? And you bit me? Really now.” Slade’s small staff ignited into flame, and he whipped it in front of him. A long tendril of fire snapped in the air. Slade made the living fire dance ever longer, whipping around him on all sides and snapping the air at each end.

  Vertovi laughed and moved to the ceiling, dodging and weaving between the whip of flame, rushing into Slade’s personal space. Gabriel saw each blow land on Slade, cracking columns or the planks of wood nearby instead in an impressive display of transference spellcraft.

  Gabriel used his pain as a source of focus, summoning forth a ring of white fire around all of them. He could feel the angel blood dancing in his fingertips as he raised the white fire to the ceiling, paint curling off the walls from the heat alone. A sense of euphoria washed over him as the pain flowed out of him. Should’ve killed me first.

  Vertovi was trapped between the red fire stroke from Slade and the walls of white fire from Gabriel when the bodies of the three apprentices began to levitate. Cael’s head looked like an array of vines, spilling and lashing out in every direction.

  With nowhere to run, bound between them all, Vertovi’s knees were blown out from another arc of lightning. Before Cael could impale him with his staff, Vertovi flipped a handheld trigger.

  The explosion came without delay, blasting out the floor beneath them. Intense heat followed by a suction of cold air from outside and an infusion of oxygen caused the flames to spread between planks of wood and along the scaffolding outside.

  The three apprentices hovering in the air looked beneath them with indifference. Vertovi crawled to safety. His companions were all waiting below, a maroon-red light oozed through the room from a doorway to Hades nearby, where barghests reinforced them. Somewhere in this city, a demon was supporting them.

  “Well, if they are going to group up for us,” Gabriel said.

  “Makes our job easier,” Cael said.

  “Jade, kill them,” Slade commanded.

  Gabriel was grateful for their newfound reinforcements. The three of them had planned to ambush Vertovi and friends separately. Together, they posed an actual threat. As they descended, he took in their ambush spot. Anything that could be used as cover was moved aside and set up as a barricade. All of them were prepared for the fight. Some stood with spells at the ready. A seven-foot-tall shadow beast loomed by the door, and the last diver had two hand cannons leveled at the three of them.

  Gabriel noticed their eyes widen. On closer look, the barricades weren’t set up as barricades at all. They cleared the floor to make room for more explosive charges to blow the next floor out. They are going to bust in through the bleed a different way. He wanted to test the limits of those who would stand in their path. This useless trash needs to be taken out.

  The gargoyles rearranged the stage set for battle by blasting through their makeshift barricades with ease. Gabriel set to work countering the spells of the sorcerers. Cheap, pathetic, blooded fools. Slade controlled the flames to cut off any escape. Cael threw his staff into the middle of them, growing vines that lashed out to grapple anyone.

  Gabriel felt himself get lost in the battle, exchanging partners to parry attacks with magic interwoven between the rock fists of their new pets. Light and shadows cast at disjointed angles as the air grew so thick with a bloody mist that Gabriel could taste it. Telekinetic attacks ripped columns out of their steel foundations. Flames swirled around them and melted the flesh off those who came close.

  His ears rang as thunderous shotgun blasts ripped chunks out of the gargoyles and spells of ice and petrification found their mark between lapses of Gabriel’s countermagic as the Unification creatures fought without the same coordination. As they rallied, Gabriel felt the torment of immense pain when bullets riddled through his gut. That was instantly followed by an intoxicating euphoria as he summoned white fire. He was getting drunk off the pain, craving more so he could release it. Reckless and wild, Gabriel let himself go.

  Until the pain came, with no euphoria after. He backed up into a broken column and grabbed his stomach, feeling so much warmth flowing over his hand that he was afraid to look down. White dots began to flood his vision, and his head was ringing.

  His heart thumped in his head as his vision dulled. Tha-dump.

  Gabriel saw Slade grievously wounded from the shadow beast, a hundred swords lashing through his torso.

  Tha-dump.

  Lashes of flaming whips entangled a diver as Slade used the last of his leverage and strength to pull them both into a nearby inferno. The vampire let out his final screams of unlife when the fire consumed him. Gabriel saw no sign of Slade emerge from the inferno as ash clouded his vision.

  Tha-dump.

  Cael transformed himself into a large moving tree and slammed another victim into the ground, splattering his skull, only to find himself blasted apart by machine-gun fire.

  Tha . . . dump.

  Gabriel’s vision faded as he collapsed. The clattering of metal next to his face from the soul blade drowned out the other sounds. His last sight was the pulsing eye of Mammon.

  CHAPTER 42

  “Why do you deny what you are?” A delicate voice welled up within Gabriel.

  “We’ve got him! He’s down! Get ’em outta here. Now!” Vertovi screamed.

  Gabriel saw the bright, warming lights of St. Paul Cathedral through his blurry vision. He was moving, being carried by something. A creature. He could tell because of the claws burrowing into him. The night air offered a brief moment of relief before the impact of being thrown into the back of an SUV. One of the helldivers, the shadow beast, threw him in. Above him, he could still hear the sounds of fighting in the building next to Succubus Alley. Are we losing? As he tasted his own blood, slightly salty and copperish, his eyes rolled back into his head and the vehicle rolled away.

  The instructions say . . . head around the city count
erclockwise at five miles above the speed limit. Stay on Hennepin and shadow I-94.

  Gabriel’s eyes shot wide open. A sharp pain sat just behind his eyes, like needles covered in hot spices were being thrust into his skull. A thought . . . not his own . . . invaded his mind. He jostled mildly in the back of the SUV, thankful at least, for modern suspension and a carpeted interior. The bindings tying his hands and legs were a new, unwelcome addition. He had been unconscious for a while now, it seemed. His abdomen and chest hurt with each breath, and a ripped-open first aid kit lay near his head. I’ve been shot. A few times. That won’t do. He barred his teeth through the migraine as another thought crawled in. A small sliver of light leaking through the trunk was enough to overwhelm him.

  They should’ve known the price of evil. Can’t believe it’s going to go down this way. Bollard is pulling a sick move.

  “You need to turn left up here. The Clinic is that way,” a deeper voice said. Gabriel thought it sounded like one of Vertovi’s men.

  “How many of us do you think are going to make it? This is the big dive, right?” a female voice said. Her next thought jammed its way into Gabriel’s head. I’m going with twenty. The plague demon scared the rookies shitless.

  “Thirty. Vertovi and the other three are taking out the warlock’s apprentices. They’ll dive in back there. She said that all restricted areas are a good bet. Bollard’s banking on the Clinic, and he’ll kill Vryce himself.”

  “Can you really trust her info?” she said. Delilah is a ruthless predator. I’ve seen her follow through before.

  “Yeah, she spilled the whole bowl. Even the warlock’s real plan. Haven’t you seen the way she looks at Bollard?” I bet those two have been shacking up for years.

  “Strength in numbers, I suppose, regardless. They said tonight was the final night for diving anyway. Gates gonna close here after tonight, just before the deadline as well.” I’d follow Delilah now that I think about it. She’s effective. “So why him?” Why alive?

  “Sacrifice. Guess that was the plan for him all along. Besides, he’s a fucking asshole. I’ll feel a lot better after I pin him to a wall with knives in all his organs one at a time. I mean, unless you would rather kill one of us to pry the Innocence open an extra hour or so. I’d rather have an escape plan.” Aaaannnd this should be it.

  Gabriel listened to some minor conversation as they slowed down over the remaining blocks. None of the apprentices in the soul blade were capable of telepathy. He grasped around the best he could for the soul blade and felt the chill of losing something critically important. The heart? That angel’s heart is the source, then? As the vehicle came to a stop, thoughts came racing in from every direction. He needed it to stop. He needed to breathe. He needed to focus. Make the world small. Focus on what’s in front of you. The microcosm. The taillight went from overwhelming, to just a taillight. The invasions faded into the background, along with their troubles, as he concentrated on the pain in his chest.

  “She’s inside, yeah?”

  “Yeah, Bollard says she isn’t leaving there till this is over. Get the asshole.”

  Multiple doors were opened and shut. Gabriel could hear their thoughts, and let one or two in if he focused.

  Cute.

  The SUV crumpled in from the top, as if a wrecking ball landed on the roof. The world went dark to Gabriel as his head knocked sharply on bent metal.

  Have faith. The world grows. You grow. Know thyself. The voice was eerily familiar. Graceful and feminine, yet mewling and weak as it pulsed in the back of Gabriel’s mind.

  He recalled the image of the angel, her ribs flayed open and the pulsing heart in his hand slowly being raised to his lips. Suddenly, a vile taste in his mouth brought his vision back as his heart was jump-started by Onyx’s stony hand slamming Gabriel in the chest. Everything was overloaded. His vision was filled with white light around the edges. His body burned and revolted against itself. Blood flowed from the bandages around his stomach like a shattered bottle of wine. Nothing compared to the taste in his mouth. A sick, rotten taste and smell of sewage made him vomit. Onyx held the head of a hellhound, pouring the blood over Gabriel.

  “S-t-op,” he stuttered in between heaving. The taste was still in his mouth. He could not get rid of it. I have to get . . . this . . . out.

  Onyx only looked at him with a deadpan reaction and dropped the hellhound’s severed head.

  His arms flailed for the soul blade in Onyx’s other hand. The rush of power helped deaden the pain as he mentally sorted through the spells contained within. Healing. Need to drink demon blood first.

  It is better to die, the voice chided. He crawled to the hellhound’s severed head and began licking its blood off the street. With each lap of the tongue, he felt violated. Why is this denied to me? I do not want to die. He forced himself to swallow, a thousand daggers going down his throat. He quickly cast the spell before the heaving began again, turning the poison within him to lifesaving. He clutched the blade close to his chest. The sounds of the soldiers firing guns brought him back to earth.

  “You have eaten an angel,” said Onyx.

  “Yes.” Gabriel coughed.

  “Then you cannot feed upon the blood of others for strength.”

  “I guess not.”

  “That is weak.”

  “Fuck you. I still got the spell off.”

  “Because of that sword.”

  “Who cares?” Gabriel said as he lifted himself back up. Warlocks are made from eating the hearts of both, their souls shredded in the process. If even just a taste of demon blood felt like that.

  It is better to die. The voice rang inside.

  Gabriel looked at the carnage outside from Onyx’s landing on the SUV and formed his plan while hiding behind both Onyx and the shattered car. The helldivers had all gathered at the Clinic, the remaining assistants anyway, with no sign of Vertovi or the other vampires. I count thirty. Guess we know who won that bet. Only blooded sorcerers at best. People of my birthright are useless unless facing another Unification sorcerer, right? “Onyx?” he asked.

  “That is my given name.”

  “Crush them.”

  CHAPTER 43

  The medical clinic had been quarantined, surrounded by road barricades and police tape. The shattered windows were replaced with plywood, and when Gabriel looked closer, iron nails held dead herbs in nooks and corners. The Lilith moon cut through the spotted cloud cover and gave ample light that reflected along the light snowfall. The smell of burned wood still hung in the air.

  Gabriel pushed one of the barricades out of the way and walked up to the building, leaving Onyx to chase after those who fled after the tide quickly turned against them. Without anyone around for a block, Gabriel was free of the thoughts of others, and his headache started to subside.

  Until he made his way up to the broken doors of the burned building.

  It’s Gabriel. Delilah said to stop anyone but Bollard coming in. Yet I must follow his orders. An interesting conundrum.

  Gabriel felt the thought flow into him from behind the doors. The shadows were thick inside, yet he was sure that thought belonged to one of the inhuman soldiers under his command. It felt cold and reminded him of Alexander Lex DuPris.

  “Yes, you do need to follow my orders. Now step into the light, soldier,” Gabriel said.

  Gabriel was completely surprised when Ridari Bollard’s driver stepped out of the shadows. I saw him earlier at the Clinic. Even with the debris on the ground, he made not a single sound as he stepped out through the large hole in the door. He gave a slight bow and then resumed his attention stance. “What can I do for you, sir?” he said, displaying not the slightest surprise that he had been sighted.

  “What is going on here? Why are you here? Lex is out right now battling who knows what that crawled out of some pit. You are supposed to be with him,” Gabriel said as he readied his blade for trouble.

  “There was a disturbance here that I was sent to investigate. It turned
out to be minor, and I’ve already handled the situation,” he said.

  I’m waiting to see what comes of Delilah’s plan.

  Gabriel smiled. I could get used to this. “Really? And Lex or Bollard ordered you to investigate this disturbance?” Gabriel held up his fingers and made quotation marks around the last word he spoke.

  “Yes, sir,” he replied. Not exactly. I suppose I could say that it’s true. Delilah runs them all.

  “Well, I have a new order for you, soldier. You are to report back to Walsh Tower. Enough of this deception. Fall back in line underneath Alexander DuPris,” Gabriel said as he gazed inside.

  “Very well, sir.” There was no further thought as he went back to the car. Gabriel traded places with him and stepped inside the building. In hindsight, a fight like that would be a cinch now that I’ve gotten better. Heh. Demons beware. Gabriel is here. The Clinic still smelled of burned wood and the chemicals that had been used to put out the flames. The cleanup crew had moved around much of the debris, stacking it up in very odd angles around the place.

  Gabriel thought it looked as if some worker had a passion for either abstract art or strange fêng shui. He knew Delilah was in here somewhere, and if anybody knew the answers about this place, it was her.

  Gabriel stepped over debris and searched room after room for Delilah. He called her name a few times with no response. After clearing out and searching the upper floors with methodical scrutiny, he headed into the basement. It was clear that much of the furniture had been arranged to the side and stacked up around columns. Someone even took the time to nail shoddy wooden boards into the ceiling for makeshift supports.

  Finally, he spotted Delilah, her clothes covered in blood, handcuffed and chained to a steel beam in a corner. She stared at him with a sense of authority that made him want to apologize. It took Gabriel a second to regain his composure.

  “Ms. Dumont. What is this . . . predicament you find yourself in?” Gabriel asked. She looked dangerous, and he maintained his distance.