The glamour spell shone cleanly around Legara, like a translucent veil. Something thin and murky shifted beneath, as if looking for an exit. Reaching a hand out, I imagined I was touching the veil and it rippled like the surface of a pond. The tentacle from the rotten line was at my waist now, pulling at me, infecting me with its disease. I felt my vision darkening at the edges and frantically clawed my hands at Legara, towards the veil. I pushed everything I had into my hands and imagined I was tearing the spell to pieces. She gave a surprised shout and stumbled away from me. I could move more easily now and knew the elixir was starting to wear off, the tentacle slipping from me.
Legara’s body began to convulse. Her human flesh quivered and trembled, rippling and caving in sections, her mouth working in short gulps like a dying fish. Her body distorted tall with a wet, cracking sound, flesh and bones tearing as the spell broke roughly. Ligaments popped, bones cracked and extra joints broke in her arms and legs.
Legara’s head swelled and morphed, great horns growing and curling at her temples, dripping a sinewy mess down her body. Muscle built and grew over her figure, while hooks of bone jutted from the multiple bends in her arms. A tail with a sharp barb at the end flicked about impatiently.
I stumbled back, horrified.
Legara’s true form was horrendous. Her mouth was lined with needle-sharp teeth and four pairs of bulbous, wet, blinking eyes stared out at us, seeing all. She tilted back her thick neck, purple tendons pulsating under her skin and howled. The sound echoed around the church, shattering the remaining windows and rattling the loose floor stones. I clapped my hands over ears, stumbling back a few steps, the noise filling my head until I felt it would burst from the pressure. An echo sounded around the church of her cry, followed by a slow and laborious grinding noise of stone shifting. A piece of ceiling fell, crashing to the ground and spraying small rocks everywhere.
Legara lowered her head and fixed me with a baleful stare. My arms fell loosely to my side, ears ringing like I’d never hear right again. A single thought flittering through my mind.
Worst. Plan. Ever.
“I am free, nephilim.” Legara spoke in the roiling language of Hellspeak and it poured through the air like a chattering of rats, the sound of a thousand tongues at once. She lowered her head, eyes falling to the Aldebaran beside Kronin’s ruined body.
“I will not allow Azazel the Destroyer to share my glory.”
She lowered to all fours and a curled pink tongue flicked out, wrapping around the book and pulling it into her mouth. The grimoire disappeared behind the rows of teeth, a flurry of pulped paper and torn leather. She swallowed once, then sprung into the air towards me, heavy limbs moving with a ferocious and terrible grace, talons extended. I threw myself to the side, scrambling for cover before her massive bulk crashed into the pews. Legara lost her footing, rolled and smashed into a row of tall columns. The entire church gave a shudder. A fracturing noise cracked through the air like a thunder clap. I looked up at the ceiling. A rumbling sound grew, shaking the walls. More pieces of the roof began to fall, crashing to the ground.
Legara made a noise, something that sounded like a laugh. Then she bounded towards the front door, smashing through the wood and brickwork and was gone.
I ran over to Seth. He was pale, but had managed to pull himself to his feet.
“Let’s go,” I said grimly. Supporting each other, we hurried towards the hole Legara had created. Fallen timber beams speared into ground around us, smashing the flagstones into jigsaw pieces. With the power of the elixir fading, weakness seeped through me, robbing me of strength. My lame leg began to twist and give way and I stumbled with a sob. Seth’s bloodied hands grabbed at me.
“Don’t stop, Lora,” he shouted over the noise. “You can make it.”
I grit my teeth and willed myself up and then we were stumbling out. Mortar dust hit the back of my throat as we ran, stumbling towards the night beyond as the church collapsed behind us.
Chapter 46
We hurried down the church pathway. The outside air was like a freezing slap to the face. The rain had stopped, and rain clouds scuttled under a half moon. Lightening flared a few times in the distance, and thunder clipped its heels. A wind tousled my hair, which had come loose from its braid. A couple of heavy raindrops splattered around me, making the billowing dust swirl.
We managed to shuffle to the square’s small fountain. I pulled myself free from Seth’s grip and bent at the waist, gasping as my chest burned. Seth collapsed, blood soaked hands pressed tight against his stomach. Before us, the church had collapsed into rubble, a chalky cloud billowing into the air like some last gasp of life. A sweep of dust rolled over us, chalking everything grey, raindrops streaking through. Coughing, I blinked until my vision cleared of grit.
“I’m sorry, Lora.” Seth’s voice was slurred, his lids heavy. “I couldn’t tell you. How could I?”
“Shut up.” I pried his fingers apart, checking the wound. He needed a hospital. Now. I put his arm over my shoulder and he hissed in pain. Pain sliced through my lame leg as his weight pulled at me. My leg buckled, sending us both sprawling to the ground.
“Go,” Seth groaned, curling on his side. I licked my lips, seeing how much blood was coming out of him. Too much. “You have to stop Legara.”
I wiped a shaking hand across my eye. He was right. But even though Seth was a lying bastard, I couldn’t just leave him here, or I’d regret it for the rest of my life, however long that was going to be. I may not be able to forgive Seth, but I didn’t want him dead. I gritted my teeth and tried to pull him up again.
“What are you doing?” Seth demanded. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“Shut up,” I snapped. “I won’t let you get off that easy.”
We both paused, hearing a whirring noise approach us. I peered down the streets cloaked in darkness and settling dust. The noise became louder and I was almost too tired to be surprised when Crowhurst’s car appeared through the haze, wobbling towards us. The windscreen had been punched clean out and the clockwork gears clunked like they were one spring short of giving way completely. The car shuddered to a stop and Crowhurst jumped out, face tight and angry, eyes cautious as he took in the scene.
“Help me,” I called to him. “He needs a hospital.”
Crowhurst’s lips thinned, but he helped me put Seth in the back seat of his car. I straightened, then Crowhurst had his hands on my shoulders and was shaking me.
“Baby, you’re one dumb broad, you know that?”
My teeth clacked together, but I was too tired to struggle. Besides, he was right. I was an arrogant dumb shit for running off by myself. “I’m so-so-sorry,” I said. “I thought I could handle it. How’d you find me? Where’s Orella?”
“You don’t think every craft user in the city didn’t feel it when the true form of a hellspawn ripped into Harken?”
“We need Orella.”
“Baby, you got just me. Some folk have taken advantage of the confusion the fire caused. There’s riots and looting happening. You’re lucky Vivian was able to scry up your location. Now get in the car.”
“We’ve got to find the hellspawn,” I told him.
“I know.”
“She’s big.”
“I know.”
“I mean it. Big.”
“I said; I know.” Crowhurst’s face was tense as we both got in the car. “I saw. She was heading toward Avalon Square.”
“Shit.”
“I know.”
Chapter 47
We followed the line of destruction to Avalon Square: overturned peddler carts, injured pedestrians and a rickshaw on its side, the driver with his head caved in. The acrid stench of smoke burnt the back of my throat, and in the distance, plumes of fire rose from Abraham’s Alley, smoke billowing up to meet low rain clouds.
The tires of Crowhurst’s car crunched over shattered glass and bits of debris. He drove fast, head stuck out the window. I kept my hands braced on the cracked dash
board as we smashing into the sides of broken carts and swerved around bewildered pedestrians.
Taking advantage of the chaos, looters were emerging, breaking store windows and stealing what they could. Snatches of screams and shouts met my ears, along with dogs howling. City Watch whistles pierced through the chaos, shrill and insistent.
Thunder rumbled louder overhead as we pulled into Avalon Square. A wind had picked up, sweeping over me as I stepped out of the car.
It was a working week, but Avalon Square still was a popular place for crowds and visitors, even at night. A pie stall was serving a small crowd, and tourist stood around a juggling acrobat, clapping and laughing. The blue lights had been lit around City Hall and young people sat on its steps, drinking and chatting. No screaming, no damage, no rampaging hellspawn.
“Where did she go?” Crowhurst came alongside me.
“She’ll come here, I just know it. We’ve got to clear the square.” My eyes searched the surroundings buildings, looking for a commotion, for people running and screaming.
“We’ll split up.” Crowhurst started for the far end of the square. “Sound the alarm.”
I watched him go and wondered just how we were going to get people to leave. For that matter, what good would it do? Was anywhere safe from Legara?
“Look who we have here.”
Turning, I saw Daleman standing behind me, Nathan at his right shoulder. The big guy stared at me with hungry eyes. Daleman was wearing a blue greatcoat and low slung bowler hat. A tight smile stretched his lips thin. “I heard the Craft Alderman had accused you of witch hunting, Lora,” he said. “Say it isn’t so. Tell me you haven’t been lying to us all these years.”
“You’ve got to help me, Daleman.” I kept my ground, letting him see I wasn’t running away or attacking. There was more at stake right now than an overdue gambling debt. “We have to clear the square.”
Daleman lowered his head, skimming fingertips along the brim of his hat. I tried to get my breathing under control, glancing about me at the people walking about, unaware of what was lurking somewhere in the darkness. Daleman blew out a breath and raised his head, eyes steely.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Lora, but it won’t get you out of the trouble you’re in.” He gave me a flat smile. “I know you killed Roper. And I know you pushed Spinks for information. You’ve been nibbling at the edges of my dinner table, Lora. And there is a consequence for that.” He looked back at Nathan. “Show her how serious I am, Nathan.”
The big guy came at me, jaw set and cracking his knuckles. I flashed a dimple, swung a foot back and kicked him in the balls. The big guy fell to the ground with a gurgle, spit flying from his lips. Daleman pulled his wheellock from a pocket as Nathan staggered to his feet, bent over in pain. Rage coursed through me like a hot threads of fire. I held up my hands, stained with Seth’s blood.
“Fine,” I told Daleman. “You got me. I ended Roper and I’m actually sorry it came to that. I’m no killer. I don’t enjoy murder, though I’ve sometimes got the feel for it. And Spinks was a low-life, but maybe I shouldn’t have used him the way I did. But bigger things are happening here this night. On this, I’m begging you to believe me.”
“A killer apologising to a killer?” Daleman gave a soft laugh. “It’s a little too late for you to develop a conscience, Lora.”
I tore my eyes off Daleman to search the square. Where was Legara? Had we followed the wrong trail? I could just hear Crowhurst, bellowing for people to run from the square. His pleas were met with drunken laugher and boos.
LOOK UP.
The words appeared in my mind and my heart skipped. I raised my eyes to scan the skyline, lit by lights against the night sky. Then I saw her. Legara’s huge form clung to the side of the Harken Clock Tower, eyes glowing sulphur yellow. Her talons were embedded into the side of the tower and bits of brick fell to the ground, not yet noticed by the crowds. As I watched, she tilted her head back and howled. The noise pressed down on the square like a force. I stuck my fingers in my ears and feeling the terrible pressure of her voice in my bones. The noise vibrated through the square, rattling the cobblestones and around me, people slapped hands over ears with shocked faces. The noise echoed to quiet. Alarmed murmurings rose from the crowd as everyone looked around for the source of the inhuman noise.
Nathan took his hands from his ears and looked at Daleman, his flat eyes searching for an answer. Daleman just bit his lip, looking around like everyone else.
“Lora?” His voice was calm. “What was that?”
“The reason I’ve been too busy to pay your stupid loan back.” I pointed up to Legara. “I’ve been tracking the Butcher of Applecross.”
People around me followed my finger. A few people screamed in horror. Then someone else shouted and people began to scatter from the square. Legara watched and waited. Crowhurst jogged up to me, sweating. He dismissed Daleman and his pistol with a casual glance, looking at me expectantly. “We’ve got a plan, right?”
I turned to Daleman, trying to avoid getting shoved by the running crowds. “Get as many warlocks and witches you can find. Maybe magic will bind her long enough to saw through her fucking neck.” Daleman snapped his chin at Nathan and they both melted into the panicked crowds.
“Do you have salt?” I asked Crowhurst. He shook his head, then something over my shoulder caught his attention. He swore, and I spun around, crouched at the ready. From the opposite side of the square, a crowd was heading towards us. Their faces were dirt covered and empty of life, stiff bodies dressed in rotten funeral garb.
Crowhurst staggered back. “Lords above, they stink.”
I sniffed the air and grimaced. He was right. A stench rolled off the approaching crowd, hitting my senses like a brick wall, the cloying smell of death blocking out all else. My mouth tasted sour and my stomach rolled. This is why Legara had stopped her rampage; she had paused to call forth her own, personal army.
A noise from behind me tore my attention from the dead. From behind us, full-bloods and otherkin were swarming into the square; craftusers with hair braided in black and white threads. Fingers flashed from salt pouches and curses were shouted as they charged the approaching crowd. Power pulled at the air, and the sickly honey-sweet smell of dark curses flooded my nose. The dead stumbled under the attack; grey flesh was flayed from bones, legs snapping and body parts flew.
“Regulators units are here.” Seth had pulled himself out of Crowhurst’s car, his side dark with blood. His face was deathly white, hands wrapped around the Remington shotgun taken from the backseat. I didn’t bother asking him what he thought he was going to do with it. I supposed a big whacking stick was better than nothing.
“Look.” He turned to point at Regulator carriages rattling into the square, horses rearing up as they were reined in too fast. Swirling grey cloaks streamed out of the back and swords were drawn from spine sheaths as they joined the charge.
One Regulator came towards us at a run. I recognised Roman. He went to say something, when Legara dropped to the ground from the Clock Tower, her weight making the ground tremble. Her sharp tail snapped behind her, cracking like a bullwhip.
“Kill the female nephilim!” she roared in Hellspeak.
Milky dead eyes swung in my direction. My legs gave a tremble and I wondered how far I’d get if I ran. Not fucking far enough, that was sure.
Some of the dead started to move towards us, but were cut off by swooping Regulators and balls of blasting energy from the craftusers. Roman, Seth and Crowhurst moved in front of me. I backed up the steep steps of City Hall. Legara barrelled towards us with a bellow and all I could do was stare in horror. I had nothing to defend myself with. No salt. No work-belt. No cane. My tanker boots had their retractable blades, but I wasn’t Bruce-freaking-Lee. I could barely lift my legs as it was. The quick-draw was still strapped to my arm, but yeah, really? I wasn’t sure how much help it was going to be at this point.
“Lora!” Crowhurst grabbed the sho
tgun from Seth and threw it up to me. I snatched it out of the air and racked the chamber. I hoped a shotgun blast could at least make a dent in the hellspawn. I was sure there was one shell left. I was sure. I was so fucking hoping I was sure.
Legara leapt over Roman’s head. Behind her, a pocket of undead had broken through and swarmed around Roman, Crowhurst and Seth. Swords and blades flashed and I heard Crowhurst give a deep, guttural growl.
Legara landed in front of me with a snarl, talons ripping up the stairs. She reached out, pinning me against one of the carved columns. Her claws were hot and hard against my skin. My toes scraped against the ground, trying to support my weight. I pulled the shotgun up, jammed it up against her ribs and pulled the trigger. The gun boomed and kicked, smacking back into my stomach. Legara’s four yellow eyes widened, but her grip kept tight. Her lips curled into a smile. Feeling my air become short, I racked the chamber and pulled the trigger.
The shotgun clicked empty.
I let it drop and reached up, trying to get my fingers under Legara’s hard claws, trying to breathe. I stared up, seeing Legara’s yellow eyes were ringed crimson, all four of them. Something dark slithered behind those glassy eyes, blinking out at me. More darkness. More death.
“You are the only one who could send me back, nephilim,” Legara whispered. “I destroyed the book, but somehow, you might find a way. I think I shall consume your flesh and then your power shall become mine.”
I gave a grunt and hit the heel of my left tanker boot against the column behind me. There was a soft click as the six-inch retractable blade flicked out from the toes. Kicking off the column and ignoring the pain, I swung my foot up as high and as hard as I could. The blade crunched deep into Legara’s jaw, right up to my toes. The hellspawn’s eyes widened in surprise and I saw the air shimmer around her body. I’d hurt her. Somehow, I’d hurt the bitch. Legara’s claws dropped from my neck. I fell, the blade falling out of her jaw with a jerk. I hit the ground and rolled, pulling myself back to get some distance between us.
Chaos Born Page 31