“Oh, what a show! What a show!” the fiend said, smiling all the while.
Cade vomited in helpless fear and emotional pain.
But the Adversary wasn’t done. The fallen angel had one more offer to make.
“Obviously, the stick didn’t seem to work. Maybe you are more a carrot kind of guy.” The Adversary moved closer and whispered in Cade’s ear.
“How about I return your wife to you? Restore her to how see was on that day before I entered your lives? You could hold her again. Hear her voice. See her smile. Make love to her as if all this never happened. All you need to do is open that doorway and carry her back across the Veil. Reuniting her spirit with her body will return her to the way she was all those years before. It will be like all this had never happened.”
And to his shame, Cade was tempted.
Why not? he thought. Why not give Gabrielle another chance at life? After all, isn’t that what I’ve wanted all along? Isn’t that why I joined the Order in the first place? Isn’t that why I’ve spent so many years, so much time and determination learning everything I could about the Adversary and the world beyond the barrier, so much time searching for Gabbi once I realized that she wasn’t at rest in the afterlife?
The Adversary stared at him, the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, as if it could hear what Cade was thinking.
That did it. It was like a bucket of cold water being thrown in Cade’s face. He knew there had to be something more to it. The Adversary would never give anyone a moment of happiness when it could create a moment of misery instead. Cade understood that instinctively.
So what was it?
Cade looked toward Gabrielle, pretending to be considering the Adversary’s offer while he racked his mind for an answer to the puzzle. Clearly the Adversary was capable of entering the real world on its own; Cade had seen it there on more than one occasion, including the day it had murdered Gabrielle. So it wasn’t that. It had to be something more.
Could it be something to do with the nature of the Beyond itself? Cade thought furiously. Could that be it?
He glanced upward at the churning tear in the sky above him.
Standing in front of him, the Adversary followed his gaze and said, “Yes, yes, that’s right. You can do it. Take your wife back. Open the gateway.” His voice dripped with eagerness and desire.
Cade ignored him, thinking furiously. What would happen if I open a gate of that size? What would it do to the corresponding location on the other side? What would it be like to be standing there when the gate opened?
Probably be hell itself, he mused, and then he had it.
Hell itself. That was it!
Opening a gate of that size would create an imbalance between the two worlds, an imbalance Cade had no doubt that the Adversary would capitalize on, that it would use its powers to warp and expand. If the Adversary tore a big enough hole in the barrier that separated the two states of reality, that barrier would more likely than not start to fail at a greater rate, becoming larger, until it ceased to exist at all.
The real world and the Beyond would cease to exist as separate locations, but mix together, becoming one.
Hell on earth.
That was the answer.
But would that be so bad? he wondered. With Gabrielle at my side once more, would anything else matter?
He never had the chance to answer that question.
Motion behind the Adversary caught his eye.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
A figure was rising up behind the Adversary, its features shrouded in dust and shadow. Cade strained to see who or what it was, convinced that he was about to meet another of the Adversary’s seemingly endless list of inhuman allies, and was shocked to realize that it was Duncan.
He was still alive!
Duncan’s lips were set in a grim line and it was obvious to Cade that he was at the end of his rope. Summoning the strength just to stand looked as if it had been almost too much for him and yet there he was, doggedly moving toward the Adversary. His lips were moving, most likely in prayer, and as Cade watched the younger knight extended his hands out before him, palms upright and facing in the Adversary’s direction. Cade engaged his Sight and through it he could see the blue witchfire that sprang up between Duncan’s fingertips, flowing down to gather in a pool at the center of each palm. Cade knew he was seeing the physical manifestation of Duncan’s healing power, but he didn’t understand just what his teammate hoped to accomplish with it. Duncan couldn’t use it on himself or he certainly would have done so before now and Cade was too far away for Duncan to reach.
Which left only the Adversary.
Seeing Duncan’s determination was enough to reinvigorate Cade’s own resistance and he struggled anew against the invisible bonds that held him as securely as the iron shackles that Duncan still wore on his wrists. Cade threw everything he had into the attempt, straining his body, flexing his muscles, willing himself to move, but it was no use.
He was trapped.
Duncan had closed the distance to the Adversary while Cade had been struggling and with a shout of defiance, he slammed his hands against the enemy’s back.
Power flashed, filling the night air like a thousand incandescent flares set off at the same time, enveloping the three of them in a shimmering ball of arcane energy that hissed and spit and crackled with a voice all its own.
Over the Adversary’s shoulder, Cade could see Duncan. His head was bowed and his eyes were closed as he poured every ounce of energy he had into the link that he’d established with the fallen angel in front of him.
With a flash of insight, Cade understood.
The Adversary was corrupt right down to the very core of his being, but he hadn’t been created that way. Once, long ago, he had been the angel Asharael, fashioned as an agent of goodness by the hand of God himself, a living collection of purity and grace and divine power, all bound up inside a frame designed specifically to accomplish the Lord’s will. Somewhere along the way Asharael had lost his way. His soul had grown sick, infected with the rot and pain and shame of this fallen world. Duncan apparently believed that what had been created for good could be healed of the evil that had taken it over, could be returned to its original nature and form.
Power poured forth from Duncan’s hands in a wave, washing up and over the Adversary’s form one slow inch at a time. Wherever it touched the other’s flesh bulged and shook and shivered, the Divine presence summoned by Duncan’s healing meeting the corruption that filled the enemy’s body, mind, and soul. The Adversary’s eyes bulged, his hands danced, and his feet beat a rhythmic tattoo against the ground beneath them as if in response to a beat that only they could hear.
In that split second, the Adversary’s hold on Cade was broken.
The invisible bonds that had been holding him in place abruptly disappeared as the Adversary was forced to use all of his concentration and energy to defend against Duncan’s attack.
Cade crashed to the ground.
Time slowed to a crawl.
It was as if Cade was suddenly standing in the spaces between each moment, able to see and hear and feel a thousand times faster than those around him, like time had been lain at his feet to do with as he would.
He looked past the confrontation to where his wife’s body lay on the stone bier. He wanted so badly to see her sit up and rise off that stone platform, longed to hold her in his arms and to hear her sweet voice again. The Adversary’s offer to return her to him was more tempting than he wanted to admit, even to himself, but the cost…! How could he look her in the eyes and tell her that he’d selfishly given up the entire world and everyone in it just to spend another day with her? How could he trade all of humanity, its past, present and future, for his own happiness?
Everything in his heart and soul cried out against it. He’d seen the evil that a lesser angel like Baraquel could inflict on those around him while constrained by the boundaries of the Veil. To tear down that barrier, to l
et the Adversary loose in the world with all of his infernal powers intact and at his disposal was unthinkable.
He cast a last glance in her direction. A whispered, “I’m sorry, Gabrielle,” fell from his lips and then he scrambled to his feet. His sword still lay on the ground nearby and he dove for it now, knowing it was his only chance of surviving what was to come.
His hand closed about the hilt just as the Adversary let out a roar that literally shook the ground beneath their feet.
Cade spun around.
The Adversary was now face-to-face with Duncan and Cade was just in time to see the creature shove his hands wrist-deep in the center of Duncan’s unprotected chest.
The young Templar’s eyes gaped open in shock and a thick stream of blood erupted from his open mouth.
The Adversary’s triumphant laughter filled the night air.
The sound galvanized Cade into action.
He charged forward and rammed his sword deep into the Adversary’s back, right between the tattered remnants of his wings.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Cade’s sword sank to the hilt in the Adversary’s back, emerging from the other side and almost impaling Duncan. The Adversary shrieked in rage and pain, throwing Duncan to the side as he reached behind him, trying to reach the hilt and draw the weapon free. Black blood poured from his mouth and nose in a seeming torrent.
Aware that he had only seconds in which to act, Cade spun on his heel and rushed over to where Riley’s body lay. His teammate’s hand still held his sword and that was what Cade was after.
But when he tried to free it from his friend’s grasp, Riley’s fingers clenched around it.
Cade’s gaze went from the sword to Riley’s face.
His eyes were open and moving slightly. Duncan’s knife was still embedded deep in his throat, and blood was everywhere, but amazingly the Templar warrior was still clinging to life, refusing to die.
Riley was alive!
The realization rocked Cade to his core and created even more urgency, if that was at all possible. If he could deal with the Adversary and return them to the other side close enough to get Riley help, he might just survive.
He grabbed Riley’s arm.
“Listen to me, Matt. I’m going to get us out of here, but I need your sword to do it. Let go!”
The other man did so.
“Hold on. I’ll be right back for you.”
Standing, he turned his back on his friend to face his enemy.
The Adversary had both his hands on the sword where it emerged from his stomach and was slowly pushing back inside his body, forcing it out in the direction it had come.
Cade was all but out of time.
Still, he had to try.
Cade rushed forward, his feet pounding against the scorched earth beneath them, his breath echoing in his ears, his heart hammering in his chest.
The Adversary gave a final shove and Cade’s sword popped free and fell to the ground at his feet.
He turned, his bloodied hands rising, preparing to unleash another wave of arcane power in Cade’s direction.
“Not this time, asshole,” Cade said and brought Riley’s sword down.
The Adversary’s severed head flipped through the air, hit the ground, and rolled several times before coming to stop, looking back in Cade’s direction.
For a moment his lips seemed to move, as if he were still speaking, and then the fallen angel’s body burst into brilliant flames, burning so brightly that Cade was forced to shield his eyes and turn away from its brilliance to protect himself.
When he looked back again, the Adversary was gone.
So was Gabrielle.
The bier on which her spirit had rested was empty.
Goodbye, my love, he thought, but that was all. There would be time enough for grieving later. Now he had to focus on what was right in front of him. One look at Duncan told Cade that all he needed to know about the younger man’s condition and so he rushed instead to Riley’s side, determined to do what he could to save at least one of his friends.
EPILOGUE
Almost three days later Cade climbed from the back of a taxi in the driveway of his home, exhausted and weary from all he’d been through. Cade paid the driver and then waited for him to turn around and leave the property before making his way inside the house.
Two months had passed since they had entered the Beyond. The Order had proclaimed them dead and had held burial ceremonies on their behalf, three empty coffins buried with full honors, despite Cade’s prior conduct. He wondered how Riley would feel when he returned to the Newport Commandery and saw the headstone with his “death” date on it.
It had been close, there was no doubt about that. In the wake of the Adversary’s destruction, Cade had found a smaller, more manageable portal and used that to transport an injured Riley back to the real world. By some miracle, and Cade had no doubt that it was divine intervention, there was no other explanation, they had appeared inside the barracks of the commandery in Arlington, Virginia. The locals had sprung into action, rushing Riley into surgery, and several hours later the doctor had emerged, telling Cade that Riley would pull through.
Cade had left a note for his brother in arms, telling him he’d be in touch, and then had gotten the hell out of there.
He dropped what little gear he had just inside the foyer and wandered through the kitchen to the back door. He stared across the yard at the workshop for a long moment, afraid to confront what he knew was waiting for him there.
Cade had been unable to reach Clearwater since his return, but he had no doubt the hedge witch had moved on to other things. After all, he’d only hired her for a few days, not two months. His only question was what she had done before leaving.
Had Clearwater left the wards up or had she disabled them? Would he find Gabrielle’s body still intact, forever trapped in that nether world by the Adversary’s sorcery, or would she have finally moved on to a better place, her body at long last beginning the decaying process that would return it to the earth from which it had been created, earth to earth, and dust to dust?
He didn’t know.
But he couldn’t put it off any longer; he had to find out.
He walked out of the house, crossed the yard, and stepped up to the workshop door.
Summoning his courage, he took a deep breath and went inside.
Keep reading for a sneak peek at the next Echo Team adventure, INFERNAL CRIES
Simon Logan lay on the cot in the corner of his cell, listening to the voices of the dead whisper to him from out of the darkness.
Their voices helped him, sustained him. They lifted him out of the depth of his despair and gave him the courage he needed to face each day as if it were not identical to the one before it and the one before that and so on back through an endless succession of such periods, the sterility of prison life blurring into one long, endless repetition of the same activities that were designed to break his will and turn him into an obedient little prisoner.
The voices were his sanity and his salvation.
And while he listened, the dead told him things.
Important things.
Things he couldn’t have known otherwise.
The dead were his friends, you see, the whisper of their voices like the caress of a lover in the depths of the night. They told him of the world outside these walls, of the events that transpired there while he was locked away in that meager eight-by-eight foot space, and in turn he gave them tasks to perform, orders to carry out, providing a purpose and direction for their existence that they thought had been lost lost forever.
It was the perfect symbiotic relationship.
The wards, bindings, and other enchantments built into the walls of his cell kept him from doing anything more than speaking with the dead, but speaking with them was enough for now. Logan lay on his bunk in the darkness, conserving his energy, knowing he was going to need it if the voices were right, if today was, indeed, his day of salvation.<
br />
It was still early afternoon when the voices told him that the guards were headed in his direction. His cell had no clock and this far underground there wasn’t a window to let him judge the passage of the sun across the sky, but he knew what time it was just the same. He’d always been able to sense the coming of darkness for decades and right now his senses were telling him that darkness was still many hours away.
That was fine; he was patient. He could wait.
He thanked the dead for their service and then sent them on their way with the messages he had prepared for just this eventuality. The time had come; he could feel it in his bones.
The footsteps stopped and the lights flashed on suddenly, harsh and blinding: the move designed to disorient, perhaps even to cause physical pain. He was abruptly thrust from the utter darkness of long days spent in solitary confinement, but he’d been forewarned and so was not caught by their petty game, sitting on his bunk with his eyes held gently shut when the flare of brilliance chased away the darkness. By the time that the guards arrived at the door of his individual cell, his eyes had adjusted to the light enough to be able to see without difficulty.
There were nine of them; an auspicious number.
The duty captain stepped up to the outer cell door and said, “Assume the position.”
The man was nervous; Logan could smell his fear from five feet away. It made him want to smile, but he made sure to keep the grin off his face and his expression carefully neutral. Anything else would simply earn him a beating.
He got up from his bunk and crossed to the door of his cell. Turning around, he slid his hands through the waist-high slot and then winced as the duty captain on the other side slipped a zip tie around his wrists and cinched it tighter than necessary.
“Okay, you know the drill. Back off.”
He followed the duty captain’s orders, pulling his hands back out of the slot and stepping away from the door, giving the guards room to open the door and enter the cell.
Vengeance Reigns: An Echo Team Urban Fantasy Novel Page 19