Guardians (Chosen Trilogy Book 2)

by David Leadbeater

  The girl looked indignant. “Of course I’m human. Are you?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Then let me up. I don’t know about you, but being trapped between a female vampire’s thighs is not my favorite place to be.”

  Ken opened his mouth, then clamped it shut again, hard. He struggled hard to quash the instant reply that jumped to his lips, he really did, but it was Eliza’s next words that saved him some embarrassment.

  “If you’re human what are you doing here? And you have an odd smell. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. Yet,” she added ominously.

  The girl struggled briefly again, then gave it up as a bad job. “All right, all right. I was taken . . . from my family. And smell? I wouldn’t be so rude.”

  Ken pursed his lips. The girl talked like an American, looked like an American, but there was something else too. Something he couldn’t quite identify. The words and accent sounded almost as if they were carefully formed, as if she hadn’t had much chance to use them lately.

  “When were you taken?”

  The girl gave in, falling back to the earth and staring up at the red skies. “So long,” she said. “So long, I can’t even remember.”

  Ken reached out to her. Eliza glared at him. He shrugged. “What the hell are you going to do? Eat her?”

  “My name’s Lilith,” the girl said. “I’m from Miami, the Coconut Grove area. My mother, she was a personal trainer to the wealthy. My father—he left before I was born. I didn’t . . . don’t even know him.”

  Eliza studied her for one more long moment then climbed off, leather suit creaking. Its shiny surface reflected the red skies as she moved, painting her with a fitting blood-red aura. The girl, Lilith, sat up, stretching out her back.

  “Geez,” she muttered. “That hurt.”

  Ken stayed low. “Don’t sit up too far. There are about a hundred things over there that would tear us apart. Problem is, they’re heading for Miami.”

  “What did you think I was trying to hide from? I knew I was close to the surface, and then wham! A great procession stopped me.”

  Felicia squatted alongside them. “Hell’s Mardi Gras,” she said laconically. They’ve pretty much passed us. We need to move.”

  Lilith blinked. “Move where? Which way are you going?”

  “All the way down, babe,” Ken said, then blinked himself. “Sorry. We’re tracking someone and the fate of the world lies in our hands.”

  Lilith sniggered.

  Ken pouted. “Seriously.”

  “But I just came from down there.” Lilith’s voice took on a whiny edge.

  “Good,” Eliza said. “Then you can help us find our way.”

  Milo grunted. “Yes. The dog needs help.”

  “Call me a dog one more time,” Felicia said, “and I will rip your fucking throat out and leave your twice-dead body to feed the worms.”

  Milo’s chest expanded instantly. “Will you? Well . . .”

  Eliza gripped his arm. Ken surprised even himself by getting between them. “Stop it!” he said. “We’re all on the same team. The same cause. Damn it, we have to work together.”

  Felicia defused the situation in an instant by turning away. Ken looked at the vampires. “We’re all they’ve got, guys.”

  Eliza nodded and also turned away. Slowly, the group started to walk again, the dark grasses swirling and swishing around them. Lilith fell in next to Ken.

  “Sheesh,” she said. “Tense crew.”

  He nodded. “Would you believe Felicia is normally the most easy-going, free-living, bundle of fun on the planet?”

  “Nope. Not really.”

  “Well,” Ken said awkwardly. “She is. Normally.”

  “So. Am I your prisoner?”

  Ken had no idea. He didn’t even know who the hell was in charge of their little team of raiders. All he knew was they were attempting to track Dementia and the two artefacts with nothing but Felicia’s highly tuned and sensitive skills, and the ancient astuteness of the vampires. A good combination for tracking, but a bad mix. He gestured toward the hellgate.

  “Well, you can hardly go through there right now. And you’ll be safer with us. And, if you’re human, you could help with the tracking.”

  “I don’t want to go all the way down there again.” Lilith shuddered. “There’s things . . . sights . . . you just shouldn’t see.”

  Ken hefted his sword. “I’ve seen a few lately, believe me.”

  “I’ll wait for you up here.”

  Eliza turned then. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But we can’t allow that. I still don’t trust you—not completely—and we can’t leave a potential enemy at our backs.”

  “Because of the way I smell?”

  “Even the do— I mean Felicia, senses something off with you. Even he does.” Eliza flicked a glance at Ken.

  The Californian blushed a little. “Well I wouldn’t say it like that,” he blustered. “And my nose, whilst appealing, is not equipped with the tracking talents of a do—, umm wolf, or a vampire.” He quickly changed the subject. “Say, how old are you anyway?”

  “Eighteen,” she said. “Recently.”

  Felicia cast a sly glance back at him. “Too young for you, surfer boy.”

  “No she’s not,” Ken said before thinking, again engaging mouth before brain. “Of course, not that I would . . .” he tailed off feebly.

  “Too young for what?” Lilith asked with open-faced innocence.

  Ken took another look at her. He saw it clearly now. Despite the deep, infinite pits of her eyes, and the wisdom and experience gleaming out of them, Lilith was pure, fresh-faced virtuousness. Guiltless, blameless, she followed them now without anger or hatred, but with a kind of blind naiveté.

  Lilith was an eighteen-year-old innocent, living in hell.

  What the fuck?

  Who is she? And who’s she running from?

  He had the horrible impression that he wouldn’t be able to leave this place until he found out.

  TWO

  Felicia ranged ahead, leading them deeper into hell.

  Eliza and the vampires talked amongst themselves, sometimes including Ken and Lilith, at other times ignoring their opinions completely. Ken began to see why these creatures had long been associated with Earth’s politicians and bankers. There was a remarkable resemblance.

  “Our only way to stop Lucifer is to regain the artefacts,” Eliza was saying. “From what the witch, Cheyne, told us I gather that the hierarchy need all seven in order to summon the Devil to earth. And they don’t need all seven hierarchy demons to do the job, since one is already dead—”

  As she said this, Felicia glanced back at them, perhaps reminding Milo that is was she that had killed the demon. To his credit, the big vampire gave her a nod of respect.

  “Dementia cannot be allowed to stay free,” Ken said. “She’s the wild card. The Devil’s secret weapon, as Belinda was ours. I killed her once . . .”

  Eliza swiped at the surrounding grasses. “Perhaps our resident expert can give us a geography lesson. Exactly what are we heading into, young one?”

  Lilith perked up a little. “There are seven levels. Lower and lower they go, each one more disgusting than the last. On the lowest level is the Pit—the place where the worst things happen. And the place He calls home.”

  “Lucifer?”

  “No. Samael. The demon that guarded me.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Lilith shuddered. “The worst of the worst. I can’t go back to him.”

  “You won’t.” Eliza’s words were perfunctory, uncaring.

  Ken leaned toward the girl. “You won’t,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Ever hear of Dementia?” Mai asked. “Where she might live?”

  “I’ve heard of her.” Lilith nodded. “They say she had a crazy brother—crazier than her—who was named Rapatutu. They reside in the seventh hell, though I do not know where.”

  Ken shook his head. “The sev
enth? The lowest? Yeah, of course she does.” He sighed unhappily. “Sounds like we’ve got a long way to go, folks.”

  “How do you . . .” Eliza paused, choosing her words. “. . . descend?”

  Lilith was too innocent to ridicule the question with the obvious answer. Instead she said, “Down many stairs and through archways. A single, grand staircase drops through a central chamber, all the way down past each level, but there are many other steps carved into the rock faces all around. It is a . . .” she searched for the right description. “A mishmash. A jumble of soaring cliffs and secret passages and tunnels, most probably hewn out through the ages. Such a mix . . . it is easy to get lost. But it’s also easy to hide.”

  “This Samael,” Ken said, thinking of this young girl running for her life down here, lost, alone, terrified. “Is he chasing you?”

  Lilith nodded. “He will never stop. Even if I get past the gate, he will never stop.”

  “When,” Ken affirmed. “When you get past the gate. And we will help you.”

  “I trust you. I do.”

  Ken knew that she meant it. He also knew that the burden fell to him. The vampires didn’t care about anything except their own kind, and material gain, and Felicia was too busy tracking Dementia and keeping them out of trouble. His previous flirtations with responsibility had been nothing like this—more like, you go grab the beers, dude, I’ll look after the boards. Or—yup, the backs of your thighs are bright red, babe. I’d be happy to rub in some Aloe Vera though, if you think you need it.

  Times had changed.

  Now, the sun-blasted Californian took a tighter grip on the hilt of his sword and strode further into hell, an odd and fiery assortment of companions at his side, and thought about all the things he was fighting for—the Chosen, the Aegis group, the whole of California and America, Europe and even Canada. The rest of the world. The armed forces. All life.

  Existence.

  The sword trembled in his grip.

  THREE

  In the aftermath of battle you’d have thought we’d loosen up a little, maybe take stock of the situation. You’d have thought things might settle with the diminished threat. Well, you’d have thought wrong. If anything, the urgency increased and the peril magnified a hundred times.

  Suddenly, instead of trying to defend our world against a planet destroyer, we were trying to save humanity from an eternity of hellborn slavery. The hierarchy had concealed their intent well, from even the great world-ender and his Destroyers—but now the cat was well and truly out, and humanity was scrambling to save the day.

  I followed my friends and fellow survivors off the beach, leaving behind the bodies of the dead. We took with us as many as we could carry, in particular the body of Devon Summers—our healer—who had fallen in the last act. Poor Devon—she’d saved us all, many times, but we—the Chosen—had not been quite good enough to return the favor.

  And me in particular, of course. The eternal doubter. The last man to find his power and the only one that had doubted it would ever rise to the surface. Johnny Trevochet and I had been the phalanx of the attack, launching our power hard at Gorgoroth’s maw, bombarding the emerging God until he’d finally been driven back. Now all eyes were on the witch coven, Cheyne and her bunch of cohorts, that appeared to have the most knowledge of what was about to happen.

  I stayed close to my daughter, Lucy, another of the Chosen late to emerge, and watched her face, waiting for the trauma to set in. She’d seen more than her fair share of slaughter today, experienced near-death and first-hand demonic hatred, and had still been fighting hard at the end. My admiration for her was only outweighed by my worry.

  And speaking of admiration, we were all still shocked and amazed by the actions of Ken Hamilton and his accomplices, walking straight through the gates of hell like that and chasing after Dementia to find two of the seven artefacts.

  That left five on earth.

  Cheyne, the witch queen, turned away from her huddled brethren and gave us all a look of dread.

  “The closest hierarchy demon, we think it looks like Asmodeus, has been spotted in Orlando. We should head there immediately.”

  “You think he’s located an artefact already?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, Logan. But considering his close proximity, we shouldn’t waste any time.”

  “So you’ve found a way to track them already?” Cleaver, the big American with the duster and concealed shotgun, asked innocently.

  “Yeah.” Cheyne gave him a wilting glance. “It’s called Fox News.”

  Giles, our leader and the head of Aegis, immediately ran ahead, with Lysette Cohen and Cleaver looking to commandeer vehicles. Since Miami was deserted I didn’t think they’d have a problem.

  I turned to Lucy. “Hey, Luce. You okay?”

  Her eyes were slightly glazed. “One minute I’m a child that can’t get her mum out of her head, the next I’m a superhero. I do feel a little lightheaded.”

  I draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Me too.”

  “Do you think . . . Mum would be proud?”

  I sighed on the inside. The ghost of the woman that had run out on her husband and daughter without warning or explanation would forever haunt the both of us.

  “Of course,” I said with as little inflection as possible.

  At that moment, Belinda came over and saved me. “Hey, honeycake, after that I feel like I need the mother of all showers. Wanna join me?”

  I coughed and rolled my eyes toward Lucy in warning. “Not in front of the rugrat, eh?”

  “Oh Dad.” Lucy grumbled. “I’m sixteen. Not six.”

  That wasn’t exactly the problem I’d envisioned with my daughter. It had more to do with Raychel, her mother. “I think we’re headed out.” I nodded toward Cheyne.

  Belinda pouted in exasperation. “Figures.”

  I placed my other arm around her shoulders. “And hey. You survived.”

  My gentle words made her smile. Belinda’s greatest worry in life was that she would die young and leave behind those that cared about her. She’d previously told me that she would rather be alone than cause anyone that kind of pain.

  “To fight another day,” she said, not without a sense of irony.

  I stopped finally as we came to Ocean Boulevard, and gazed around at the row of restaurants, hotels and shops. Miami was famous for this elite string of high-end establishments. But now, much of the remarkable façade was pitted, damaged by the beach battle and the evil that had tried to destroy our world. Walls were marred and ravaged, windows were shattered. Palm trees had been razed in great, bedraggled chains. But I smiled. This was the kind of thing that would help bring us all together. The human spirit would emerge undaunted, unsullied, and bond together to build an even greater spectacle. This was one of the major reasons why we fought and why we won.

  An enormous vehicle, painted black, roared to a stop at the curb. A people carrier, it looked like it could carry an army. The doors whooshed open automatically and we headed for the best seats. Then Lucy stopped.

  “Hey, Dad, is it okay if I ride in the second car?”

  I looked over to see another vehicle arrive, this one slightly smaller and painted dark green, and driven by Marian Cleaver. At first I failed to see why Lucy would want to be separated, but then I saw a very large and potentially problematic reason.

  Ceriden.

  The camp vampire, that I thought might be quietly courting my daughter into some secret world involving blood-sharing slavery and bonds, stood tall at the rear of the second car. I liked Ceriden, he was a breath of fresh air in the somewhat dour, boring and serious vampire world. My initial thought was lifeless, but I decided not to go there. The man genuinely cared for the welfare of the human race and had proven himself to be a thoughtful, likeable guy, but . . .

  Maybe every father harbored the same suspicions where his daughter was involved. The slight suspicion that you just didn’t trust any bastard that started hanging
around her.

  I made myself smile and nod. “Sure. Just . . . be careful. All right?”

  Lucy grimaced. “After what we’ve just done, I think I’ll survive.”

  She walked away. I watched her go. Belinda pulled at me.

  “C’mon, Dad. She’ll be fine. You gotta give her space.”

  Space, I didn’t mind. Space that included the influence of a so-called Uber being, I was understandably wary of.

  Nevertheless, I swallowed my reservations and climbed into the outlandish vehicle. Giles was behind the wheel, staring over his shoulder at us as if a simple glare could make us pick up the pace. Cheyne climbed in beside him, then Johnny and Natalie Trevochet joined us along with Tanya Jordan. Every one of us looked worn and disheveled, battle weary. Maybe the long drive to Orlando would give us a chance to recharge.

  “Bet you’re thinking ‘bout that shower now ain’t ya?” Belinda nudged me in the ribs.

  I tried not to smile. “Haven’t stopped since you mentioned it.”

  “Thought so.”

  Giles pulled away from the curb, fiddling with the satnav. I wondered for a second where the rest of Cheyne’s coven had vanished to, then stopped wondering. They had their own ways. Probably best not to dig too deep. I settled back into my seat.

  “Gonna be a long drive,” Natalie Trevochet said. I was glad that the couple appeared to have forgiven me for leaving Natalie’s fate in the hands of the gods a few weeks ago. I still beat myself up over that decision. And now that my power had surfaced, been applied and then suppressed again I’d begun to wonder if it would reappear on command. I mean, shit, it had taken long enough for it to start working in the first place. Always the pessimist in regards to myself, I suddenly felt glum. A quick glance back showed the second car following about a block behind.

  Tanya Jordan, seated beside Belinda, was talking to Giles and Cheyne. “You guys hear anything from Kinkade yet?”

  “I’m sure our gargoyle friend will be in touch once he’s made a decision,” Giles said.