by S. M. Reine
She remembered seeing all the stone discarded from the House of Abraxas mines, but she had assumed that it was waste, without any purpose. She frowned. “Why would stone from under Mount Anathema be poisonous to us?”
“It’s poisonous to all demons.” Lincoln gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Guess I’m demon enough for it to work on me now, aren’t I?”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. It’s not that black rock that the House is built on—this comes from deeper, down in the depths of the mountain. When I was possessed, I helped Aquiel coordinate its purchase from Abraxas.” He shook the vial gently. “See the way it shimmers? You can’t mistake it. It’s been activated by someone who can do magic. Belphegor used to do it, but human witches could, too.”
“How have I never heard of this before?” Elise asked.
“Because it’s a huge secret.” Lincoln rubbed his forehead, as if trying to push the memories into the forefront of his mind. “Even the librarians didn’t have a clue. Only Aquiel, Abraxas, and Belphegor knew how to make it.” He grimaced. “And me.”
“Then how the fuck did a werewolf get it? It was given to the assassin by a guy named Levi Riese.”
Lincoln sat up. “The Apple. Shit.”
“You know them?”
“The nightmare that possessed me did. We need to get to Northgate,” he said. “We need to get there now.”
The werewolves had been in their beast forms for hours now, even though the full moon was several nights away. It wasn’t easy to be trapped within the wolf shape for so long—the smaller of them, Trevin, had passed out. Crystal stood guard over him. She snapped at Levi’s hands every time he tried to step closer. Wolf or not, she recognized the man that had just kicked their Alpha out of the sanctuary.
Levi circled them. Abram could tell that he was acutely aware of his audience by the way that he swaggered, how he held his shoulders, tipped his chin. Almost all of the pack was gathered in Northgate to watch him, and he was trying to look impressive.
Abram sat at Bain Marshall’s feet, elbows resting on his knees. He didn’t want to look impressive. Most folks probably hadn’t even noticed him there yet, and that was just fine with him.
“Change them back,” Felton said. He stood alongside Levi, the staunchest supporter of the change in leadership. It wasn’t much of a show of support. He was a little shrimp of a man, and it never failed to surprise Abram that the guy turned into a wolf instead of a weasel.
“They’re loyal to Rylie,” Levi said. “I think they should stay as wolves until they learn to be obedient to me.” He made it sound convincing. The pack probably didn’t detect the falter in his tone. But Abram did.
Levi couldn’t change them back.
It wasn’t a surprise. Abram had never thought that Levi was any kind of match in power for either of his parents. Rylie sucked at being Alpha, but she was still an impressive werewolf. Levi wasn’t.
“You said that you’re an Alpha,” Felton said. “Why can’t you change them back?”
“You told me that Abel couldn’t change you at first, Felton,” Deepali said. She had a soft, musical voice that carried well; her whisper was audible throughout the entire town square. “He had to learn to do it, too.”
“Rylie always had the power.” That was Paetrick. He hadn’t taken well to the news that Levi was in charge now. Three Scions had guns trained on him to keep him from trying to attack again.
“Rylie’s not your Alpha anymore,” Levi snapped. “She ran away to Hell at the first chance, and she’s gone now. All right? I can change Trevin and Crystal back; I just don’t want to.” He clenched his fist around the silver pentacle hanging over his chest.
“You snuck up on her in the middle of the night,” Paetrick said, bolder now. “That’s a real fucking brave way to take someone down.”
Levi’s upper lip curled in a snarl. “She didn’t even try to defend herself. If she can’t protect her home from invasion, then how can you expect her to protect the pack?”
He walked too close to Crystal. She lunged, snapping her jaw shut on his wrist. Levi slammed his knee into the side of her head. She fell with a yelp and didn’t get up again.
Shaking his arm, he sent blood splattering to the grass. She had stripped the skin off of half of his forearm. Levi didn’t even flinch at it.
He looked brutal and strong within the ring of spotlights. It made his blood cherry red and his skin golden.
Levi definitely inspired a lot more confidence than Rylie did. He just needed to get their trust.
Abram pushed to his feet, and the pack fell silent. They’d definitely been too distracted by Levi’s show to realize he was there. Once he was standing, though, he was impossible to miss.
“The pack needs to be stronger to survive,” Abram said. “It will be stronger with Levi in charge.” He so seldom spoke up in front of the others that it felt strange to do it now, but the private look of gratitude Levi shot him was worth the effort.
It took several long seconds for someone to find the will to speak.
Surprisingly, it was Felton. “But you’re Rylie’s kid.”
“Yes,” Abram said. “I’m Rylie and Abel’s son.”
“That should tell you something,” Levi said.
“What, that the Alphas bred a faggot?” Paetrick scoffed.
“Who fucking cares if they did?” Levi spread his arms wide. “I think you just want any excuse to fight. That’s fine. I’ll take any of you. Whatever it takes to convince you all that I’m strong enough.”
Nobody moved forward—not even Paetrick.
When nobody challenged him, he strolled over to the statue of Bain Marshall, climbing onto the steps underneath his feet so that he would be tall enough for everyone to see.
“I’m meaner than Rylie. I’ll also be fairer, smarter, and more decisive. The fact is that we’re weak right now in a very cruel world, and if we want to survive, then hiding out in the mountains isn’t going to cut it. We’ll just waste away. Do you want to roll over and die? Or do you want to take the fight to our enemies?”
He pointed at the fissure.
“They imprisoned you. Enslaved you. Killed your friends and loved ones, turned you into food, leather, or labor, and shattered America. It’s not enough to trust that Elise Kavanagh will do the right thing. She’s a demon. The Godslayer. When she’s done taking charge of Hell, she’ll turn to Earth and Heaven next. We need to prepare ourselves for war.” Levi gave a long, dramatic pause. “We need to make more werewolves.”
“Monsters,” Tyrone protested.
“Soldiers,” Levi said. “I didn’t become a werewolf by choice. This was forced on me, as it was for many of you, and I was angry about it for a long time. It wasn’t until recently that I realized this is a gift. That we’re meant to use these abilities for good. We need to spread this gift around and take back our world.” His eyes swept over the pack. “And I know where we can find allies to help us.”
That wasn’t something that he had mentioned before. Abram frowned. “Allies?”
Levi didn’t listen to him. “We’re not going to be in this war alone. The demons are much too numerous for us to take, even if we triple the size of the pack. But I’ve brokered a deal that will give us the upper hand.”
“How are you going to triple the size of the pack if you can’t even control our changes?” Felton asked. “The moon’s coming, man. We don’t have much time.”
“We’ll go somewhere without a moon,” Levi said. “Somewhere where we can find a lot of people willing to be changed into werewolves. We’ll train, regroup, and come back to take the Palace.”
Abram grabbed Levi’s arm, jerking him back under the shadow of the statue. “You didn’t tell me anything about this. Take the Palace? What are you talking about?”
Levi opened his mouth to respond.
The spotlights exploded, showering sparks everywhere.
Abram reflexively pushed Levi to the ground, shielding him with
his body. By the time they hit the grass, just a heartbeat after the lights went out, the generators in the square had gone dead. All mechanical sounds faded.
The wind picked up, blasting through the square, rattling through the barricades. It was loud enough to muffle the pack’s shouts.
“Stay down!” Abram yelled, pushing Levi onto the grass as he drew his gun.
But the werewolf didn’t stay down. He also didn’t look worried.
“No, wait,” Levi said. “It’s okay.”
Brilliant white light flooded the square. It wasn’t coming from the spotlights—it was far too bright and silvery-blue. It cast harsh shadows on Levi’s grinning face.
He had been expecting this.
Nash Adamson descended, wings flared wide, downy white feathers whipping around him in the torrential wind. He landed on top of the silent generator. The light from his wings faded fractionally, just enough for Abram to see that he was wearing one of his usual business suits, probably made by some ridiculously expensive Italian tailors.
The wind didn’t slow when his light dimmed. He lifted a hand to shield his face from the wind.
Nash’s voice echoed over them. “Run!”
Apparently, Levi hadn’t expected that. He shoved Abram aside and got to his feet.
“You’re not Azrael,” Levi said. He didn’t recognize Nash. He hadn’t been around the pack enough to know who their lone feathered member was.
“Run, you idiot, before it’s too late,” Nash said. “Go, all of you! As fast as you can! Go!”
Lightning arced over the sky—not a flash of it, like normal lightning, but a circular flare that pulsed above the center of Northgate. It was brighter than Nash, brighter than all the spotlights combined, brighter than even the sunlight.
As the light grew, so did the wind. It vortexed around the town square.
Paetrick broke free of his Scion guards and dashed at Levi, plowing into him, knocking him to the grass. They struggled against each other.
Turned out that Levi really was stronger—he dropped the other werewolf with a single hard punch.
Nash jumped off the generator and gripped Abram’s arm. “Where are Rylie and Abel?” he yelled over the wind.
“Gone,” he shouted back.
“Lucky thing,” Nash said. “We have to go before they open the road!”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Levi jumped on Nash, seized him by the shoulders, and flung him across the lawn. Werewolves were strong and angel bones were hollow. Nash went soaring. He smashed against the wall of the bank, and Abram couldn’t see well enough through the brightening light to tell if he was okay.
The wind suddenly vanished.
Everything hung suspended in the middle of the air. Deepali had been falling, pushed by another werewolf—she froze halfway down, arms outstretched, shock on her face. The trash that had been blowing around the grass stopped in an instant. Abram was sluggish, struggling against the weight of the air.
It was like life had been put on pause.
The lightning above them had become a single, huge rune suspended in the sky. It shined down on them. Dust motes sparkled in the air.
Distantly, Abram remembered Summer watching science fiction movies with alien abductions, and he wondered if they were about to be taken by extraterrestrials.
He suspected it was much, much worse than that.
“I was going to tell you,” Levi said, clutching Abram’s arms. His fingers were tight even though he moved slowly, too. “You’ll see, though. I think you’re going to like this. I know how much you miss Haven, and this is even better.”
Dread suffused Abram. “Levi, what have you done?”
“I’m saving the pack,” he said. “I’m saving the world.”
And then there was nothing but light, and Northgate was gone.
Twelve
ELISE APPEARED IN Northgate with a stirring of wind. She braced herself to be shot by the Apple, who she knew to be guarding the bridge now.
Yet not a single gun fired.
Nobody was at the top of the bridge, in fact. Half of the barricades had been knocked over, letting her see beyond them to the surrounding streets. The windows on the nearest buildings were shattered. All of the lights were off. The generators had failed.
She phased past the statue of Lincoln’s grandfather and appeared beside the nearest generator. From that vantage point, she could see the building that used to be Poppy’s Diner. There wasn’t a single sign of life. Not so much as a whisper of a voice or a heartbeat.
Elise traced a finger over one of the indicator lights on the side of the generator. The bulb inside was no larger than her thumbnail, but she could see that the filament had burned out, just like the bulbs in Mayor Gregg’s office in Two Rivers.
Flipping the switches on the side didn’t do anything.
Faint worry began creeping into her heart.
She pushed into an old consignment shop. All the racks and shelves had been removed, the clothing repurposed by the Scions, and nothing remained but an empty room covered in a fine layer of ash from the fissure. She didn’t go far inside. She only checked the light bulb within the doorframe. Also burned out.
She stretched her senses to their utmost, trying to feel the nearest life. There were other towns just a few miles from Northgate and farms in between—farms that the Scions had repopulated. She sensed a few faint lives, too small to be human. Probably squirrels and songbirds. But no werewolves.
To the west, nearer St. Philomene’s Cathedral, Elise felt the faintest hint of magic brush against her mind. She erupted into shadow, darting across the distance to close in on that faint hint of human life.
A young woman was unconscious on the lawn outside the cathedral. Judging by the gun she had dropped, she had been a Scion. Elise rolled her gently over onto her back and pushed the brown hair out of her eyes. She didn’t recognize this woman—she wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not—but her pulse was strong and steady.
She was also visibly pregnant.
“Elise!” Stephanie stumbled out of the church. The instant she crossed the wards, her heartbeat became audible. She had been hiding behind magic that was strong enough to prevent even Elise from detecting her.
Elise stood to face her head-on. “How many survivors are there inside the church?”
“Just me,” Stephanie said. She was washed out, hands trembling, her strawberry blond hair fallen loose from the bun. “It was Levi.”
She was really starting to hate that guy.
“What was Levi?” she asked, enunciating each syllable very carefully.
“I don’t know. I’m still not sure. It was loud, whatever it was, and so horribly sudden. There had been so many people around—people who were arguing about the pack, and what to do with those who remained loyal to Rylie, refusing to obey Levi’s new role as Alpha.”
“And?”
“And then I heard a chime,” Stephanie said. She began trembling harder. Her hands knotted in the hem of her sweater. “I had been alone in Father Night’s office. I emerged to find the source of the noise and everyone was gone. Everyone but Thea and me.” She indicated the Scion with a nod.
“Gone,” Elise said.
“Vanished without a trace.” She kneeled beside the woman on the lawn and checked her pulse. Her brow relaxed when she felt a heartbeat. Stephanie turned an imploring face toward Elise. “I know you hate us, but you have to do something about this.”
Funny how Stephanie was happy to see Elise now that her life might depend on her presence.
“Where has Levi been staying?” Elise asked.
Stephanie led her to the trailers behind the cathedral. Levi had been staying in Father Night’s former home, and now Elise studied the living room with a critical eye. There was no sign of a struggle. Everything looked to be where it belonged—every single piece of old, battered furniture.
Same as in Two Rivers.
Father Night’s influence was still e
verywhere. The shelves were filled with knickknacks he had gathered during his time as a roving exorcist, several of which she recognized. Their paths had crossed more than once when she had still been human.
Elise felt a smile creep over her when she spotted the bundle of twigs from a case that she had worked on with Father Night. She plucked it off the shelf and pocketed it.
“Don’t touch that,” Stephanie said. “That doesn’t belong to you.”
Elise ignored her, opening the door to the bedroom. The overwhelming smell of pot smoke blasted her in the face.
Clothes were scattered haphazardly across the floor. Elise picked up a pair of jeans. They looked much too large to belong to Levi. The belt was still in the loops, heavy and thick, like a utility belt. More function than fashion. She tossed them aside.
“What are you hoping to find?” Stephanie asked. “That is to say, what should I help you search for?”
Elise mulled over the question as she picked through the attached bathroom. Levi had two razors. Two different types of aftershave. Only one kind of shampoo. Two sticks of deodorant. It seemed that Levi had a male roommate living with him.
“Anathema powder,” Elise finally said. “It’s black and about as coarse as pepper. It may or may not be haloed with magic. It will be in a glass vessel. If you do find something like that and see that it’s touched with magic, don’t open it—that means it’s already been activated.”
Elise went through the drawers while Stephanie searched the closet. In their silence, she heard a soft, rhythmic sound—a strange noise that would have easily been drowned out by the sound of the rain. And once Elise heard this small heartbeat coming from within Stephanie’s womb, she realized that the doctor’s stomach was swollen. She was smaller than the woman unconscious on the lawn, still capable of hiding it with loose clothing.
“They left behind the pregnant women.” Elise said it as the realization came upon her.
Stephanie’s hand jumped to her stomach, a reflexive gesture of self-defense. “How did you…?” Her eyes narrowed. “Ah. I suppose I can imagine.”