The group threaded through them, sometimes brushing against the various devices and shivering with distaste. As they walked it became darker, the light fading to a thin, pale glow. Felicia finally came back to Ken, her lips curled with revulsion.
“Hate this place. It stinks. It breeds evil. It crawls.”
“I truly do know what you mean.”
“There’s no freedom here. No place to run. I don’t even feel like running. The depravity disheartens me.”
“You feel trapped? I know. So do I.”
“Not like me.” Felicia’s body shook. “A lycan will die of a broken heart if not allowed to run.”
Ken was well aware they weren’t even half way through their journey if Dementia had made it down to the lowest level. “Try to stay positive,” he said. “Hey, you’re supposed to be the optimistic one. Not me.”
“Well that’s the trouble with optimism. When it finally dies it dies hard. It crashes and burns.”
They saw and heard the grand bazaar well before they reached it. Orange flames illuminated the black skies and gray clouds, and could be seen many miles away. Closer, the sound of strange music and hawkers yelling their wares, of creatures screaming and baying with laughter, of implements and machines being used or demonstrated, filled the air with life. Rich scents drew them closer, and Felicia forgot her melancholy to sniff out the best of them.
“Meat,” she said, her mouth watering. “And edible.”
Ken felt his stomach growl. He couldn’t remember his last good meal. “What’s the plan here?” He turned to Lilith.
“I could do it, but it’s risky,” she said. “Every time I’m spotted increases the chances that Samael will find me. No human may enter, and a lycan would stand out like horns on a baby. I think only the evil ones should enter.”
Ken wondered who she was referring to for a second before he understood. “Evil ones? Oh, you mean the vamps.” He smiled at Milo’s grimace.
Eliza sighed. “And we’re the ones that don’t actually need the food.”
Lilith shrugged. “Buy ega meat or blue spike meat. Both are edible for humans and lycans. Get it dried and salted. It will last longer. And water. That is also available. Also medication. A form of antibiotic is called Whalen and available in plant-like form. You can chew it or make it into a pulp. Very fast acting. There are other goods, more delicacies, but I think we should work fast rather than methodically whilst we’re here.”
She pointed out the way to the three vampires. “Walk straight through the fiery pillars. You can’t miss it.”
Ken looked around at the endless desolation. “So we have to wait here?”
“No,” Lilith returned. “We can watch from the rocks.” She gestured up at the clumps of hillocks and rocks that surrounded the area. “It’s how I first surveyed the bazaar and pinpointed where best to buy things. Come on.”
The two groups separated, Ken following the girl and the wolf along a short escarpment and then picking their way through a jumbled assortment of rocks. Lilith slowed when the rocks grew tall enough to hide them and settled down in a slight depression. Ken found his own little niche and appraised the view.
Less than a hundred feet below the grand bazaar sprawled out in resplendent glory. It was nothing more than a disorganized jumble of colorful stalls and open squares where musicians and street performers played. Flickering torches sat on the tops of hundreds of dark pillars, illuminating the area, along with another several hundred being carried by hawkers and buyers. A tantalizing aroma of meats and spices drifted through the air. Ken was momentarily taken aback, this scene being so similar to many he had witnessed back home. A slice of normality, it shocked him.
Then he looked a little harder.
Lilith was pointing out the fiery pillars at the entrance to the bazaar. The three vampires were already there, entering the market and casting around. But Ken didn’t really hear her. His attention had just been seized by a staggering sight. The hawkers and the customers, the players and the wanderers, were all species of hellbeast. Not a one looked alike, not a one looked vaguely human. There were beasts that slithered and beasts that ran on spindly legs. Beasts that sported many tentacles and beasts that had dozens of trinkets dangling off curved horns. Too many to count, Ken gaped in awe.
Lilith saw his face. “What did you expect?”
“No idea. But . . . but . . .”
Felicia leaned in. “Tell me this. Are there other vampires out there? If not, our three friends might find trouble.”
“It’s possible.” Lilith shrugged. “We have many of their kind down here.”
Felicia nodded, but didn’t look happy. Ken knew that though the wolf harbored no love for the night creatures, the group needed their power to defeat Dementia. He tracked their progress through the noisy, chaotic mess, holding his breath when they stopped before a stand where fires burned in back.
“Don’t worry,” Lilith said. “That’s the ega meat stand. I recognize the vendor.”
Ken surveyed the area. “What is this place though? I mean, why do they need it?”
“Through commerce, advertising, business and entertainment the masses are kept preoccupied and unaware of what’s really going on. Is it not the same on earth?”
Ken blinked. “I try not to get involved.”
“No doubt the best way.”
The three vamps had also bought water by now and looked to be checking around for Lilith’s other prerequisites. Ken felt himself relax a little, realizing he could probably do with some sleep. Not the easiest thing in this godforsaken land.
“How ‘bout we catch a few zees, girls? I’ll go first. Felicia—you’re in charge.”
The wolf-lady snorted. “As if you—”
Lilith’s soft voice stopped them both. “I thought you said Dementia had gone down to the seventh circle?”
Ken sat bolt upright. “What?”
Lilith pointed. Ken felt his heart leap into his mouth as he set eyes on his nemesis. The unexpectedness of it all made it worse, adding to the angst he suddenly experienced. Dementia, the demon-bitch, strolled the confusing streets herself, necklace of bones dangling and racks of teeth snarling at anyone that dared offer her a ‘special’ deal.
“Not good,” Ken said. “That’s not good.”
Dementia turned into another street. The three vampires were stalking up a nearby offshoot, completely oblivious to the impending danger. Time stood still as Dementia stopped at a stall and bought a swag bag of food.
Behind her, another demon halted.
Lilith saw it at the same time as Ken. “Oh, no. That’s Rapatutu.”
“Oh shit. The brother?”
“Yes. He sure looks as crazy as she does.”
“If we ever had an emergency,” Ken said. “This is it.”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Lilith told him. “A human would get eaten alive in there. Literally.”
“You’re human,” Felicia put in.
“I’m . . . different. They won’t touch me.”
Ken rounded on her. “The trees did.”
“I mean living, thinking creatures won’t touch me. Look, it’s a long story. I’ll go in there and try to help. But if I’m recognized . . .” she left it hanging, shaking her head.
As she ran off, Ken turned to Felicia. “Recognized? Who the hell is she anyway? Some kinda celebrity?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Felicia murmured thoughtfully. “I get a peculiar odor off her. Nothing evil, but something . . . tainted. Like nothing I’ve ever smelled before.”
Ken stared down into the bazaar. By now the three vamps were approaching the corner. Dementia was turning away from the trinket stand, showing something to her brother. As she turned, the vampires came into view, but now outside her field of vision. Lilith had already scrambled down to level ground and was sprinting toward the bazaar. Ken stood up and started waving, knowing the effort was futile and dangerous, but having to at least try to do something.
>
As he rose, Eliza stopped in the middle of the dusty road, her eyes fixed on the demon-bitch. Milo paused too, eyes widening. There was a moment of indecision, a second of pure shock, and then Eliza burst into action. No doubt thinking to take the initiative she struck first, becoming a streak of violence. But she didn’t count on the speed or strength of Dementia or Rapatutu.
A shout of warning from her brother and Dementia was spinning, swinging out with sharp claws. Eliza ran right into them, lurching to the side and falling, stunned. Milo was less than a step behind. Rapatutu stepped up to meet the huge vampire. A blow from the tree-like arms was blocked easily by the new demon and then he made the ground beneath Milo’s feet turn into a pit of snakes. Milo danced back, running into Mai. The three vampires slammed into the dirt.
Dementia pounced, landing atop Eliza. Her claws struck furiously. Ken watched as Eliza barely blocked the blows, the adept vampire set squarely on the back foot by her own over-confidence. Milo and Mai rolled, then leaped lightning-quick at Rapatutu. The male-bitch—as Ken had decided to think of him—flipped backwards over a market stall, landing on all fours atop the cluttered table. When Milo lunged he leaped over the strike but came down entangled with the gaudy blanket that formed the roof of the stall. Mai raced around and tore into him.
Ken was startled to see Dementia notice her brother’s plight and break off from pummeling Eliza, rushing over to help. The mental-case did have feelings after all, albeit toward her equally deranged brother.
Still feeling inadequate, Ken fidgeted and hopped around as Dementia threw Mai across the already damaged stall and then stood up to a charge from Milo.
Not a clever idea. The vamp hit her like a pack of bricks, smashing her off her feet and into the clay wall at her back. The wall itself then collapsed, raining rubble over her flyaway hair and twisting body. By now, the tussle had begun to draw a crowd. Otherworldly creatures, reptiles and insect-like things had drifted over and were watching with interest. Ken began to wonder about security.
An inner voice laughed at him. Right . . . security . . . in hell?
Dementia crawled out from beneath the destroyed wall. Milo pounded her with both fists. Ken saw her stagger and snarl in pain. He wondered now where the artefacts were. Would they get a better chance than this?
Then Rapatutu jerked his sister away, his strength yanking her out from underneath Milo’s bulk. With dancing fingers he threw up a smoke shield, a dense fog only inches thick but enough to bamboozle the three vampires. Ken and Felicia could see only because they were higher up. Ken distinctly heard Dementia’s sneering, slurred words as she was dragged away.
“Not overrrrrr. Not at alllllll.” Then she whipped her pack around, the one in which she’d deposited her new acquisition, and gripped its neck hard. “We have both arrrrrtefactsssss now and will give them to Him. In the Pit.”
Ken darted forward. Felicia stopped him with a grip of iron, not even reprimanding his rashness.
Helplessly, he watched as the two demon-bitches rushed away.
ELEVEN
I listened intently as my colleagues threw suggestions at the Text of Seven and came up blank. The text was vague, no doubt intentionally, and required several more breakthroughs before we could pin anything down. I knew time was of the essence but I found my thoughts drifting toward Lucy and this crazy new life we’d found ourselves living.
It came as a surprise when Cheyne’s phone rang and a frantic female voice shouted so loud we could all hear her.
“Dammit! It’s all gone to hell here!”
I sat upright in my chair.
Cheyne said, “Kinkade? Is that you? What’s wrong?”
“Who the hell’s Kinkade? This is Leah Aldridge and I’m calling to . . . well, I don’t know why I’m calling actually? Who is this?”
“A friend,” Cheyne said carefully. “Is everything okay, Leah?”
This was the first time we’d heard from the ancient gargoyle since the Miami Beach showdown. I remembered that one of the conditions of securing Kinkade’s help was that he be allowed to spend a year inhabiting the body of a movie star. The list had been narrowed down, mainly by Ceriden, to three of the most likely. In the end Kinkade had chosen the body of a famous Victoria’s Secret model—Leah Aldridge. So, unbeknown to the model, the prehistoric spirit of the gargoyle was currently experiencing everything it could never hope to feel through her eyes. Our group had been upset to lose Kinkade’s help, especially at this vital time, but had to honor the deal in the hope the gargoyle would help in other ways.
We had not expected to hear from him for some time.
And this was the strangest way possible. Kinkade was using Leah to contact us, somehow forcing the thoughts into her brain and manipulating her like a puppet. I forgot about how odd it must feel to her and concentrated on the real question.
“What’s so important that he would risk contacting us so early?”
Cheyne listened as Leah Aldridge spoke to her. The witch had switched the call to speakerphone.
“Our new line is premiering in Paris right now. The show’s underway. Catwalk’s hopping and the soundtrack is live. 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 and the most evil, 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 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—could be 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 let my judgment be clouded 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 couldn’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 over 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 both. 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 chasing seven artefacts. Split was inevitable. I was now surprised that I hadn’t thought it might happen before.
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