L A Banks - [Vampire Huntres Legend 12]

by The Thirteenth (pdf)

  "Monty. I am Monty," he stated firmly, also holding her hand tighter.

  "All right, Monty," Delores murmured, gazing down at the sleeping child on her lap. "But all that upset was for this little precious angel, as it should be. If they knew she'd made it, no one would scream and wail for me." Delores looked away from Ayana and Monty, staring off into the distance. "I thought I'd be able to make up in Yaya's life all the things I did wrong in my daughter's life . . . and maybe that would help Inez to forgive me for all the mistakes I'd made with her . . . like not seeing what I should have seen, not being there and listening when I should have been there to listen." .

  Delores swallowed hard as tears refilled her eyes and her voice broke. "That's all I wanted to do. I thought that would give me a role and a place. Do you know what I mean?" She glanced at Monty briefly and then extracted her hand from his palms to wipe her tear-streaked cheeks. "But this baby girl here needs, like, what do they call 'em . . . Special Ops soldiers with guns for a grandma." Delores laughed self-consciously as her voice hitched and her lip began to quiver. "I don't even make a good grandma in this crazy world."

  Monty pulled Delores into a loose hug with Ayana still dozing between them. He petted Delores's frazzled hair and rocked her gently. "You are a good grandmother, just for loving that child the way you do. I heard the stories of how you put your life on the line for her more than once."

  He made Delores look at him by pulling back a bit. "You're blessed because your daughter is still alive and you have a courageous and wonderful son-in-law. I know about not having those things . . . and about losing them and wondering what role is left for you in the world. So you go ahead and cry and let it all run out of you. This time, maybe, let someone else take care of you—since you've been trying so long to take care of everyone else while so afraid."

  "You don't even know me, but you know me," Delores said in a thick, quiet sob.

  "Why do you care about some old, broken-down woman who is useless?"

  "Because you are not some old, broken-down woman—and you are most certainly not useless, even though I am some old, broken-down man without a family or anybody to care about me ... and after a lifetime of caring about other people, and feeling needed, suddenly I had no role." He brushed her hair off her face with a weathered, meaty palm and then hugged her again for a while. "I know how terribly lonely that can feel."

  They sat that way for a long time, her crying quietly, him blinking back tears as he kept his gaze on the tunnel ceiling, each thinking about the gnarled journey of their lives. Finally she pulled back, wiping her nose on the back of her blouse sleeve. He held Delores away from him and looked at her, wiping tears from her face. "I was all by myself, Delores. They all died. Didn't even have a pretty grand to hug close to my heart to remember them by. When angel Damali and the others found me, I was sitting in an empty confessional, where even the priests had fled. And I was asking God to excuse me for getting ready to take my own life . . . and then all these young people flooded into my life, needing this and that: 'Can we borrow your boat, Mr. Sinclair, can we use your linens and your navigational skills?' They overran my life and my ship, the only two things at that moment that I had left in this world."

  Monty chuckled and wiped his eyes, hugging Delores again. "At first I thought, Am I going mad? And then I remembered that I really wanted all the chaos. I had prayed for it, and now I'm on the adventure of my life." He watched her studying his face and his eyes. "Giving up that last bit of what I was clinging on to from my past made me feel so alive. The yacht is ruined, and I may never see it again . . . but who cares?"

  "You think we'll make it?"

  "I honestly don't know, but I promise as long as I'm here in this fine quagmire with you, I won't leave you to die alone. That's a vow," Monty murmured, and then looked down at Ayana.

  Delores nodded and sucked in a huge, steadying breath. "Thank you for saying that. Everything is changing, our roles are changing . . . better get used to it—life ain't never going back to the way it was before."

  "No, I'm afraid not. But, so what if our roles change?" He glanced at Delores directly again. "So what if this tiny angel has more people than you to help her grow up—look at all these magnificent individuals fighting for good . . . and look at all the cousins about to be born. She'll be surrounded by love and excellent role models."

  "Yeah, I guess you're right," Delores said quietly. "Funny how things work out. If she was growing up with me in the old neighborhood, the way I had to raise Inez . .

  . there was nobody good, I mean, really positive for her to emulate. I don't even have anything she could really model herself on, except I think I know right from wrong . . . but some days I'm not even sure about that."

  "We all have special skills, Delores. Okay, so I can navigate a ship. You also have something positive you can do. It will be revealed." He smiled broadly. "Or maybe you've already prayed so hard about wanting to take care of children you'll be saddled with a whole kit and caboodle of crying infants at once? Can you actually see the very serious-minded Marlene Stone playing nursemaid to a houseful of Guardian tots?"

  When Delores cracked a smile, Monty pressed on. "I promise you, she will bop those children over the head with her magic fighting stick as quick as look at them—being a grandmother and finger painting with peanut butter and jelly is a very highly specialized skill, madam. Not everyone is up to the task. That's Special Forces."

  When Delores laughed softly Monty wagged a finger at her. "So, be careful what you ask for, you just might get it."

  "Thank you, Monty," she said, taking up his hand again and squeezing it.

  "The pleasure is all mine."

  He released a contented sigh and let his back rest against the wall with a soft thud. She slowly relaxed to lean back against the tunnel wall, smiling for the first time in a very, very long time.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jerusalem was in ruins. It looked like the smoldering hail had strafed every window and wall with the force of an Uzi drive-by. Buildings were on fire, shelled by cosmic fury. Car alarms and sirens sounded; the smell of burning gasoline and smoke added to the already dust-laden air.

  Fist-sized ice fragments still littered the pocked streets, even though it was close to ninety-five degrees outside. The world's geothermostat was out of order. In fact, there was no such thing left called natural order as Carlos peeped out of the safe house window witnessing what Tobias and Habiba had warned of.

  Battered landscape laid bare in yawning, silent screams of fractured earth. The sun wore a deep, charcoal mourning shroud. Dead birds and people paved the ground. Moaning echoed from every doorway and building entrance. The sound of human suffering was like a piteous, droning hum. Small rocks and debris flickered with brimstone fury.

  Tobias and Habiba had been so right; he had to see what was going on aboveground and clear the tunnels on a solo check before taking Dragon Rider down there with him. He could have inadvertently jettisoned them into a collapsing section, or right in front of a startled military patrol ... or a feeding den of hiding walkers. Everything seemed like it was on borrowed time, hanging by a fragile thread of existence. Buildings listed, many going down like dominoes to trap the wounded and bury the dead.

  But the Temple Mount, the Dome of the Rock, and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher were still standing.

  Carlos narrowed his gaze watching for demon sentries and spies, as well as any walking dead. The walkers probably had enough to gorge on by scavenging the insides of all the buildings. But from what'he could tell there were still human authorities and people trying to help injured civilians get to the major religious sites that had now been turned into triage units. "Okay," Carlos said in a low rumble, pulling back from his lookout spot behind a broken window shutter. He wiped both palms down his face and composed his thoughts. "You sure you're up for this, Cordell?"

  "Ready as ever," Cordell said, keeping his head low as the small group crouched on the living-room floor.
"My age and weight make me less likely to get shot at if I stumble out toward the street and just start crying . . . which after seeing all this ain't hard to do. They'll think I'm a shell-shocked survivor, which will get me into whichever side of the shrine you think best for the search."

  "You must dodge the walkers to get to the entrance, though," Tobias warned quickly. "While Carlos is connected below in the tunnels with Dragon Rider, I will have to cover you from the window. Men my age are considered dangerous . . . looters, especially if armed. I can't go with you into the open, or I'll be detained—or worse."

  "No," Carlos said. "You fall back, cover him from a window, but I don't want any casualties on this run. We're in, and then we're out. Ain't trying to leave nobody behind." He turned to Dragon Rider. "Okay, two minutes, then I'll pull you to me down below. We do the Wall, you get a location or sense, and then you flip the impression to me, so I can relay it to Cordell." Carlos looked up at Cordell. "The moment you get something, you give me the word to pull you out—then we're all in a fold-away back to the team."

  "Sounds like a plan I can live with," Cordell said with a half-smile.

  "I'm banking on that, man," Carlos said, his expression completely sober.

  "Then we'd better break for it now," Tobias said. "While it is still and the military might not be so quick to shoot first and ask questions later if a survivor stumbles out of a building asking for help in Hebrew. Then they'll take him to the Temple Mount, most likely . . . because they are taking all who are Muslim or speak Arabic, as well as foreigners, to the Dome of the Rock."

  Carlos peered out of the window again, watching for rabid stray dogs, walkers, and anything else that could attack Cordell on his short path to the military checkpoint.

  "But how do we know for sure which side within the shrine to look in? Until I work on the stones, I cannot tell you if he should be in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher or the Temple Mount or even the Dome of the Rock. And he'll already be segregated into whichever area." Dragon Rider looked at the small squad for a moment, seeming worried for Cordell's safety as he and Tobias edged toward the door.

  "Well, we can rule out the Church of the Sepulcher, because it was held by three primary custodians in the eleventh century—Templar time," Cordell said with a faraway look in his eyes. Then as though walking back into the room, he looked at Carlos and the two guardians that were with him. "I know my history. The Greek Orthodox Church, Armenian Apostolic Church, and the Roman Catholic Church—who got the relic via their Templars—had oversight of the shrine then. But in the nineteenth century, the Coptic Orthodox, Ethiopian Orthodox, and Syrian Orthodox churches had coregency over it. In the last days, they wouldn't hide it where you-know-who would assume it would be."

  "The thing that came out of Ethiopia," Carlos said, his gaze going back to the window as he fit the puzzle together. "The manuscript wasn't the only thing, the weapon was secreted away there, but came back . . . they wouldn't have it out of Jerusalem at a time like this."

  "Right, my Templar brother," Cordell said in a quiet, excited rush. "And the Dome of the Rock is located on the Temple Mount... so all I need is a general vicinity and I can work my way to possible hiding spots—not to mention, I do have a few seer skills of my own, you know."

  "Yeah, well, just be careful, man," Carlos said. "No heroics." Tobias and Carlos shared a look. Dragon Rider nodded. "And Godspeed." Both Carlos and Dragon Rider watched Cordell and Tobias slip out of the door. They glanced back to the window, barely breathing as they waited for Cordell to exit the building safely and enter the street. From their individual hiding places, Carlos and Dragon Rider kept their gazes sweeping the streets and the Temple Mount area for any signs of danger.

  Even in the eerie, dim half-light where night and day fought for dominance in the unnaturally cojoined sky, the bright copper-hued dome stood out like a beacon above the gleaming white, octagonal-shaped structure.

  Tobias gave the low double-knock signal and scrambled back into the room, and then took a sniper's position to cover Cordell so that Carlos could pull back.

  "The building is clear so far of walkers," Tobias said, panting from the quick run, his gun trained on the street below. "You go now. Dragon Rider and I will make sure he gets inside without incident while you inspect the tunnels by the ICotel. Travel well, my friend."

  His goal had been to get to the Western Stone. Based on what Damali had said, the numerical implications alone made him decide that might be as good a place as any to start. Pitch-blackness met him. All power was out, which he expected. Sulfur and ash stung his nose as his silver night vision adjusted to the surreal darkness. Demon rats had obviously tried to flee along the hallowed corridor—they wouldn't be his problem.

  It was so quiet that it made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. However, as he stumbled over a soldier's half-eaten body, he knew there was another equally vicious threat to contend with. Silver light from his focused gaze caught them crouched low over human entrails. Light hit their eyes, giving them the reflective appearance of animals caught in high beams on the road. There were so many that they seemed to go on for miles, filling the entire underground passageway. One hiss from the leader and they all stood slowly. Carlos backed up, drew a blade, and did the only thing he could— send a hard energy charge upward to blow a section of the tunnel ceiling.

  Screeches and screams rent the dense tunnel air as huge stones and cement rained down, smashing the walkers. There were too many to risk fighting and bringing contagion back home to the team. Carlos got down low on one knee, covered his head and a section of the Wall with his shield of Heru, and waited as the debris settled. The moment he sensed stillness all around him, he pulled in Dragon Rider under the shield with him.

  "Tight quarters and make it fast, sis," he said as she tumbled onto the ground under his shield. "Walkers got here first, and I had to blow the whole length from here to the north end. That's no longer an escape route."

  "Give me a minute," she said as they stood, pressing her hands and cheek to the large section of Western Stone by their shoulders.

  After only a few moments, Carlos watched the Guardian frown, and then her face contort in agony as tears began to course down her cheeks. Her breathing became so shallow that he feared for her life—-and when her nose started bleeding and she cried out, he pulled her away, dropping his sword and shield to pull her into a healing embrace.

  "Give it to me," he said, placing a hand on either side of her skull and sweeping her mind with silver sealant. "Let it go, Dragon! Send it to me before you have a cerebral hemorrhage!" "Oh, God—so much pain!" she gasped, her knees buckling as she held on to Carlos's arms for support. "Thousands and thousands of years of agony . . ."

  "What did you see?" he asked, gently enfolding her. "I'm gonna take it from you and send you back to the team . . . you make sure Medic heals you up, all right?

  You did real good," he murmured as her breathing calmed and the images began to flood his mind.

  "Water. An abyss," she said quickly, sending lightning-fast images from her mind into his. "A cave. Bi'r al arwah"

  "Say it in English for me," he said, holding her tighter, unable to scavenge his mind for the translation while also receiving her transmission.

  "Well. Cave. Spirits," she said, beginning to liyperventilate. "Crusaders.. South. Bedrock."

  Out of nowhere, fetid hands began to reach, through the fallen rock, moving Carlos's man-made dam. His kissed Dragon Rider on her forehead. "You did real good," he said again. "Thank you." Then he sent her away in a burst of white light, reached out and called his blade into his grip, spun and hacked away a clawing hand, and was gone.

  He hit the floor of the safe house without warning, almost causing Tobias to shoot him.

  "Sorry, man, it was hectic down there. Did Cordell get through?"

  "Yes, he is in," Tobias said, his gaze torn between Carlos and the window for a moment before he ducked down. "And Dragon Rider?"

  "She'll have a h
elluva headache, but she's back with the team. So many wars, so much emotion is charged into those stones . . . she almost had a stroke." Carlos wiped his brow with his forearm. "I only got pieces. . . gotta hope Cordell can put it together. She said a word I don't know . . . Bi'r al something. Cave, bedrock, water, spirits, abyss, south, Crusaders, which I know is the Templars, but the rest. . . hey. It was hitting her so hard that all I could get was one-word sound bites."

  "Bi'r al arwah?" Tobias said slowly, lowering his weapon.

  "Yeah," Carlos said, still breathing hard. "I think so."

  "Bi'r al arwah is the Well of Souls. Crusaders hacked an entrance hole into the bedrock of the Temple Mount from the south. Under that rock is a natural cave where it is believed that the Ark of the Covenant was originally hidden during the destruction of Jerusalem before it was secreted away to Ethiopia . . . also in the Talmud, the cave is said to be the center of the world where the waters of the Flood still rage from the abyss."

  Tobias dropped down to sit and allowed his back to lean against crumbling plaster. "Carlos, that rock is where they say the archangel Gabriel held it here on earth when it wanted to ascend to Heaven with the great prophet Muhammad. The crack in the rock is from where he made his visionary journey. Souls of martyrs and saints guard that well."

  Carlos just stared at Tobias for a moment. "If Gabriel has his handprint on pure bedrock beneath a temple that people from the three major religions have devoutly prayed in for thousands of years . . . pure rock that sits over the rushing waters that began the world and also wiped it out, with spiritual sentries on 24/7 watch ... I can tell you that if I was trying to keep something safe from the darkside, I would think that would be like a spiritual Fort Knox, don't you?" Dragon Rider came out of Carlos's jettison, took two staggered steps forward, and dropped. Damali, Marlene, and Berkfield were on her in seconds. But Marlene quickly held out her stick and used it to bar Damali from going closer.

  "Me and Richard got this," Marlene said. "If she came back with contagion or a demon presence, you don't need that in your system."