Dani hung back shyly. The last time she’d seen him, she’d spit in his face and cursed him.
“Dani!” Dec’s halo flashed on and off like a lighthouse beacon and he grabbed her in a bear hug. Dani’s breath whooshed out and he swung her in circle, whooping with mad joy.
Here’s the part where his little brother loses his mind. Sean had to grin at the waves of joy swirling around Dec. Totally unaware he was glowing from head to toe, he clutched Dani’s petite body against him like a life preserver, face buried against her hair, their two bright heads shining in the late afternoon sun.
Killian gestured at the couple and quipped, “I had no idea they were so close. Is this weird for anybody else?”
Weird? After everything else they’d been talking about? Nah, not so much.
Hilarious, yes. Weird, no. Dec had been crazy about Dani for years. He just didn’t share the intel with anyone. Sean only knew because Dec talked in his sleep when they were on a road trip once. He’d been mumbling her name over and over again until Sean woke him and told him to shut up already.
Oh, yeah, he was supposed to tell Dec about Dani so he wouldn’t freak out.
Oops. Guess he forgot. Totally worth it.
“Thank God you’re alive!” With eyes squeezed shut, he held her pressed against him until Mica cleared her throat.
“Uh, Dec, you okay there?” she ventured carefully, amused.
Dani’s face was turning red and she pushed her hands against his chest. It was like moving a wall. “Dec! I can’t breathe!”
Killian reached over and smacked his friend in the back of the head. “Declan! For God’s sake, let the girl breathe. She’s not going anywhere.”
Sean had to throw his two cents in. “Dude, you’re glowing. Seriously. Might want to tone that down.”
Completely undone, Dec held her at arms’ length, studying Dani from head to toe. The play of emotions crossing her face went from embarrassment, to relief, and back to embarrassment when he pulled her face to his and kissed her.
Ignoring the rest of them, he met her eyes and said, “I’ve waited five years to do that.”
Chapter 28: The Path Poorly Chosen
Lucerne, Switzerland:
IT WAS ALMOST GO TIME. The sun was slipping behind the mountains, casting the valley in heavy shadows. Thick clouds would cover the thin sliver of moon later. Clouds and rain would be a bonus that Killian suspected wasn’t entirely Mother Nature’s idea. This was one battle they couldn’t afford to lose. Bad weather would help. He wasn’t the only one who understood that.
“Worried, bro?” Sean appeared at his side.
“Me? No. Just thinking. Any doubts about your buddy Kyrrin’s intel?”
Shaking his head, Sean said, “He’s a demon so you always gotta wonder, but in this case, I believe him. The intel’s solid. Real question is, how hard will they fight for it?”
Good point. Demons weren’t known for loyalty or bravery. The Primani were going in hot tonight and that might just scatter some of the more excitable bastards. The more who ran, the better. They’d love to cut a swath through Jordan’s hoard, but they’d settle for destroying the institute. According to Kyrrin, the entire Variola operation was kept in the underground levels of the Première Institute. That matched up with Killian’s surveillance. He felt confident they had their facts right. He hated to think about the alternative. Staring out at the gathering gloom, he sent his thoughts to Mica.
Babe. We’re going to start soon. Can you check the building?
A pause.
Her thoughts came loud and clear. Give me a minute, okay?
A longer pause while she switched into remote viewing.
There are three humans on the third floor, top right quadrant. Looks like they’re working at desks. Also two humans on the first floor...in a kitchen. That’s it. Looks like everyone else is off for the night. Anything else?
Yeah, get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Killian? I love you. Be careful out there.
Always.
Sean cleared his throat. “Well? Anything?”
Declan and Raphael materialized beside them just as Rivin strolled out from behind the small outbuilding they were pressed against.
“We ready? Where’s everyone?” Rivin’s eyes gleamed with battle lust as he swept them over the target below them. Dressed in black cammies like the rest of them, he was armed to the teeth and amped to kill.
Dec said, “Dude, what the hell are you carrying?”
Rivin hoisted the massive weapon with pride. “This here is me new automatic shotgun loaded with demon-killing rounds guaranteed to scatter even the most stubborn demon.”
“Wicked! Hand it over. I want to see it.”
Raphael studied the setting sun and turned to Killian. “It’s nearly time. Are there people inside?”
“Five,” Killian answered. “Dec, ghost in and pull out the two in the kitchen. Rivin, Sean, you’ve got the three on the third floor. We’re gonna hit it in 20 minutes. Do a grab and go. Get them out of the line of fire.”
A familiar voice boomed behind them, “Is all in readiness, Raphael? My soldiers are here.”
Gabriel was one hell of a sight. The archangel stood seven feet tall and was dressed in his favorite battle armor. As the angel of war, he commanded a massive sword and incomprehensible powers. With a face that could bring even the hardest warriors to their knees, he glowered down at the compound. His vivid blue eyes burned with unrestrained fury as he snapped his fingers. Instantly, his Primani appeared in tight formation behind him.
There were an even dozen. Killian sought out Dimitri and Alexandyr with a steady stare. The twins lifted a hand in salute.
The sun had fully set now and the valley was plunged into darkness. Killian studied the rectangular buildings below and started to give the signal for his boys to go in. He was cut off in mid-sentence by a new voice.
“Hold!”
Uriel. He materialized still reeking of sulfur. His body glowed oddly red until he shook off the remnants of the protective spell that repelled demons. He was accompanied by six of his Primani. Dark and expressionless, all of them stood tall and silent behind him. They were strangers to Sean and Dec, but Killian had seen most of them before. He bowed slightly towards the group to acknowledge their help. They didn’t have a lot of overlapping missions because Uriel kept his men in Asia. All of his soldiers were of Asian descent. Many were recruited directly from Genghis Khan’s ranks. One was even rumored to have fought alongside Sun Tzu. Killian studied the stoic faces and wondered which one that was. He’d love to spend some days picking his brain.
Uriel could have been Raphael’s brother. He had the same dark hair and aristocratic features; same square jaw and straight nose. He opted to wear his hair long though and had it pulled back into a ponytail for fighting. Unlike Raphael, this archangel tended to be moody. And no wonder, really.
He was one big contradiction. On one hand, he was the angel of destruction and guardian of the gates of Tartarus; on the other hand, he was the angel of music and chance. When he wasn’t stalking around Hell, he was answering prayers in Vegas. Rumor had it he had a soft spot for high rollers.
Dressed in his own version of commando black with his trademark sword slung over his back, Raphael strode to the center of the group, grasping his brother archangels’ hands in greeting. “Thank you for coming, my brothers. Jordan’s plans to engineer the apocalypse affect all of us and the humans we’ve sworn to protect. It is not time to release the horsemen and we cannot allow this to happen.”
He would know, Killian mused. All three of these archangels were prophesied to be the angels who would usher in the end of the world. Surely they’d know the schedule.
Raphael waved him forward. “Killian, go over the plans if you please.”
Twenty minutes later, the Primani scattered to take up their positions. Sean, Dec, and Rivin dematerialized to rescue the five humans. Killian stayed on the rise above the build
ings and considered the plan. It would work. It had to.
Failure wasn’t an option.
The flash of muzzle fire drew his eye to the eastern corner of the sprawling complex of buildings. Almost instantly the staccato sound of automatic weapons hit his ears. In another split second, the darkness was lit up with the first firefight. As if on cue the sky opened up, and the deluge blinded him and any demon snipers.
And so it begins.
Sean was the first to make it back. Soaked to the skin and dripping with ash, he grinned like the Grim Reaper as he wiped his blade on the wet grass. “All the people are out safe. We ran into some squads inside the building. Dec and Rivin are still slicing and dicing. Any sign of J?”
“Not yet. It’s just a matter of time though. No way he’ll sit this one out. There’s too much crazy up in his head. He’ll be here.”
Sean grunted in agreement. “Man, I hate that motherfucker. I’d like to skin him myself, but he’s already molting like a nasty-ass zombie snake.”
Killian let out a startled laugh at the description. “Nice visual.” Pushing at the hair plastered to his forehead, he chuckled again but added seriously, “You okay?”
Suddenly right next to him, shoulders just touching Killian’s, Sean murmured to keep things on the down low, “Better than okay. I’m resurrected. Focused. This past year’s been a bitch, but I think it was important. I damn sure don’t think this was all an accident. The fucked up fight with Dagin last year? The trip down Psychosis Lane? The little vacay in the Stone Garden? Sure, that was my plan, but someone else’s fingerprints are all over this happy trail of shit that I’ve been following. I’m stronger now, better. My mind’s right again, and I’m ready to kick some demon ass. It’s time to get moving.”
Killian approved. Totally.
It was time to get moving again. He called up the faces of his family, Mica, Sean, Declan, with a sense of rightness. They were all back on track. Everyone had choices to make...paths to choose. Paths that changed the person you are at the core, your essence. Paths that changed your soul. He’d made his own choice millennia ago, when he chose the life Raphael offered him.
The night the demon had killed his Mica, he’d nearly gone insane with grief.
And pain. And the raw taste of hatred that burned in the back of his throat. As he held his wife’s bloody body in his arms, he’d considered following the demon to Hell and wreaking the vengeance he craved right then and there.
He had the power, even back then. Even without the blood of his maker. He didn’t need the angel’s help. He’d closed his eyes and seen the path the demon had taken; memorized it. Still knew the way, even today.
It would’ve been an easy thing to project himself there and stick a sword in the demon. He could’ve hacked his way through a dozen or two before his body called back his shadow. He’d have had the satisfaction of avenging his woman. He could’ve milked the pain and rage and kept it alive for years. But he didn’t do it. He knew what choice she’d want him to make and that wasn’t it. She’d want him to stay the same man she knew. She’d want him to remain kind, gentle, and powerful; not turn into a bitter, heartless, empty shell of a man. So he resisted the easier path to vengeance.
He’d been tempted by the darkness and he’d chosen the light.
Not once in 3,000 years did he regret that decision. Not ever.
Reaching out, he surprised Sean by clasping his forearm and tapping two fingers against his heart. Sean blinked in surprise but returned the gesture. Warriors they were; brothers they would always be.
“You chose well, Sean. The results will be worth the pain. I promise.”
“If one of you chokes out an ‘I love you, man’ I’m going to vomit.”
Refusing to rise to the bait, Killian dropped a level gaze on Alexandyr. The big Primani vibrated with the force of his saol, muscles tensed with the need to fight. He flexed his fingers around the haft of his blade. His energy was so potent, he was humming.
“What’s up, Alex? Something wrong?” Killian asked.
“We searched level five for the storage freezers.”
“And?”
“According to the logs, one of the scientists is missing. The rest were accounted for when we prepped the building. We left a couple of guards on the floor to protect the samples until you’re ready to destroy them. Dimitri pulled a laptop and some zip drives from one of the offices too. No idea what’s on it, but might be useful.” Alex’s voice was cold, the account clipped but professional.
A missing scientist was bad. They needed to find him. Now they’d have to take prisoners. That wasn’t the plan. Damn it.
“Send in a squad and take some prisoners. By now most of the fuckers have shimmered out while their human soldiers protect the building. Get in there ASAP and grab any demon you find. Bring them to the holding cell in London. We’ll find that scien--”
The bullet screamed out of nowhere, slamming into his shoulder and sending him reeling against the side of the building. Blood bloomed from the entrance wound, but he stayed on his feet. Killian searched for the shooter and froze. His smile, when it came, was slow and feral. His breath exhaled in a hiss of anticipation.
Jordan. He gripped a handgun in one hand and leaned on a cane with the other. Despite his feebleness, he was one happy sonofabitch, grinning ear to ear and practically crowing with his victory.
Killian rolled his shoulders and said, “Well, well. Look who it is, Sean. The butler’s come out to play with us.”
Sean planted his combat boots in the mud and observed dryly, “He looks like shit. Is that a piece of his ear on his shoulder? That’s fucking disgusting.”
Whipping the gun up, Jordan leveled it at Sean’s chest. “I’ve no fondness for you, Primani. You’re twice a traitor. In my world, you’d be dead already.”
“Really? You got the balls? Go ahead. Try it. But you better make it count.” Sean aimed his palm at Jordan’s eye socket. A fine beam of light settled on the retina. “Wanna bet I’m a better shot than you? What’s up with the cane, J? You falling apart?”
“My physical body is only a temporary need. In another few hours I’ll be all powerful and will choose another that is more fitting my exalted position. Sadly, you won’t be alive to see that.” He swayed slightly and grimaced, adding, “Perhaps I’ll borrow yours. You seem quite strong.
Sean gestured to Killian and went on conversationally, “You know what I think? I think Commander Whack Job’s finally lost it. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and suggest his days are numbered--as in zero.”
Killian snickered in agreement. Smart ass.
Automatic weapon bursts echoed in the distance, flashes barely visible through the heavy rain. Small conflicts between Primani and demon ended quickly as the squads swarmed around and into the buildings. Watching his boy mess with Jordan with one eye, while tracking the squads with the other eye, Killian knew when the building was clear and they’d recovered the things they wanted. It was time to destroy the labs and be done with it once and for all. Jordan’s little visit was just part of the plan.
Time to tie up loose ends and get back to London. His intuition was twitching in the back of his mind. Something was happening.
Switching to soldier-mode, he pushed away from the wall and stalked towards Jordan. As he moved, his right hand came up to the bullet wound. Stopping two feet in front of the wreck that was Jordan, he summoned the bullet to his fingers. It popped out without a sound and he snatched it in his fist.
Jordan’s eyes went saucer and he raised the gun again. Before he could pull the trigger, Killian compelled his attention and he froze.
Killian’s hand gracefully manipulated the bullet between his fingers. Back and forth, back and forth; over and under each of his fingers...The yellow eyes tracked the motion, hypnotized. In a blur of motion, he jammed the bullet into Jordan’s heart. Jordan’s mouth flew open, hands clutched at his bony chest.
“You can’t do that! You can’t kill me! I’m prote
cted!” He continued to protest but he was done. His lungs rattled as he struggled to breathe. Blood dripped down the front of his robe. His voice grew weaker as he babbled, “Your God is weak. I’m the one...the one true ruler. You can’t kill me.”
“You rule no one. Not now, not ever. You’re a puppet, Jordan. Always have been. Now your master’s left you to die. You’re of no use to him. Will you call him to save you?” Killian’s voice was harsh above the pouring rain. He stared into the ruined eyes of the fallen angel, daring him to call his master. Would he come?
In the heartbeat after he said the words, Killian felt a rare flash of pity. Jordan’s fate was sealed. No one could change it. It was too late. Destiny had given him a fork in the road; a test; a choice. Darkness tempted him on one side; light wooed him on the other. He’d considered the paths and made his choice. He’d chosen poorly. And now it came to this--a dishonorable death in the pouring rain. Such a waste.
A soft chuckle drifted through Killian’s mind, the sound sending chills up his neck.
A pity you won’t join me, priest. I have a place for you.
Killian jerked his head up and glared into the darkness. Not now, not ever!
The chuckle came again and faded away. Killian shook himself and turned back to the scene in front of him.
Jordan was on his knees bleeding nicely when Raphael, Uriel, and Gabriel materialized.
Uriel shouted, “No! Do not kill him! Our duty is to take him to Michael. He must face his judgment.” His mouth twisted into a sneer as he studied the destroyed face of the angel. There was no compassion in his eyes when he said, “The Stone Garden is too good for him. He’ll be bound in Hell for eternity. I’ll personally see that his stay is as uncomfortable as possible.”
Killian stepped away from Jordan and bowed respectfully towards Uriel. “As you wish. He’s about to run out of body though. You might want to hurry.”
The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) Page 112