“In visions, no. But if you stand before them, they can. Even better, you and Lilith can see and speak to them without an aid. You’re the only two who can. Together, you and Lilith are the only beings alive who can match the power of a Watcher. That’s why you’re both so special, because you’re as strong as they are. You’re the only one who can fight Crowley.”
What did the Watchers have to do with Crowley? “I don’t understand. What—”
Augustina’s head jerked to the side. “They’re here.” She stood. “The Sentries.”
Duncan pulled Trina up. “What’s the quickest way out?”
“The door in the back of the room. Robert will show you.” She squeezed Trina’s arm. “I’ll hold them off long enough for you to get away. Believe in yourself, allow Duncan to transform you. Things will begin to go your way.”
Trina lurched forward, wrapping Augustina in an awkward hug. “Thank you.”
“Go.”
Duncan pulled her away toward the back of the room, but Trina didn’t take her eyes off Augustina. As she walked to the middle of the room, Augustina’s skin split open. The flesh didn't tear, there was no blood, but her skin came apart at hidden seams along her limbs, torso, and head. A knotty black substance spilled out, expanding and lifting the remaining strips of her flesh until they were smooth, cream-colored battle scars. Its oblong, amoeba-like body resembled a corrupted, twisted brain with several clawed limbs bursting out at odd angles. Three eyes of different sizes and colors appeared in the front of the pulsing mass.
Duncan’s hand settled on her hip. “She’s a baldander. She’ll hold them off. Hell, she can kill them, if she wants.”
Three brawny men burst into the room dressed all in black.
“And those are Sentries.” He tugged on her arm.
Even as the Sentries strode into the room, they began changing. Their skulls split like the lobes of a Venus-fly trap, revealing rows of jagged teeth. Each fold held an eye, half a nose, and half a mouth creating a gruesome illusion of terrible wounds when parted and a normal human when the halves melded together.
Duncan tugged at her again, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from their transformation. He picked her up, hauling her over his shoulder. She flipped her hair out of her eyes.
Their arms elongated, snapped and cracked as the joints moved. The legs did the same until the males stood at least six feet tall on four, thin, multi-jointed legs, their cavernous, toothy maws yawning.
Robert shouted, “Run!”
Trina’s attention snapped to Robert, who held open a door that had been hidden a moment before. Duncan sprinted toward the opening.
She hit his back. “We shouldn’t leave her.”
Robert waved them on, urging them to get out. “Go!”
He paused as they came abreast of Robert. “Come with us.”
“You know how it is.” He smiled. “We can’t leave our mates.” He gave Duncan a shove and slammed the door shut. The whole building rumbled as one of the beings inside let loose a mighty roar.
Duncan set her down, but held on to her hand as he ran. “We’ll have to leave the car. Another Sentry might be waiting out front.”
She fell into step beside him, glancing back once. Poor Augustina. Poor Robert. If that was the couple’s best option, she couldn’t imagine how horrible their end might have been had they chosen a different path.
Chapter 16
Smyrna Island, Pacific Oceania
U.S. Department of Defense
Revelations Industries, Inc.
Moss neared the gurney. “Ruby, General Pitch.” He made a small flourish with his hands. “This is Mr. Julius Crowley.”
The woman’s attention fixed on where his body was strapped to a gurney. She gasped and her hand covered her mouth.
Julius’ attention sharpened. Would this woman help him? Did her reaction mean she might be sympathetic to his cause, or did the amount of scars lacing his skin disgust her? From wrists to ankles to neck, scars webbed every surface usually covered by clothing. Most from knife wounds. Azazel loved that fucking knife.
His gut twisted. He hated being on display. He should be grateful Moss had at least been considerate enough to throw a sheet over his hips but couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for such an emotion. Not here. Not now.
“Is someone there?” Julius’ voice sounded weak and raspy from beneath the hood—Azazel loved playing games. “I don’t want to be here. I’ve been kidnapped. My rights . . . I want a lawyer.”
Moss rolled his eyes. Julius could relate.
Ruby gasped, again. “Dr. Moss, I believe you assured me you weren’t impinging on this man’s human rights.”
“I think you’ll find I’ve done no such thing.” Moss reached across the gurney to pick up a scalpel.
Julius’ stomach roiled. He braced himself.
“Observe.” He pressed the sharp blade to Julius’ abdomen.
Unable to keep himself from reacting, Julius clenched his teeth as the blade bit deep into his flesh. He gasped.
“Dr. Moss!” Ruby grabbed Moss’ arm, which pushed the scalpel deeper.
“Stand down, Moss.” The General’s voice echoed against the barren walls.
Julius tried to control his reaction. Much more and Azazel would notice he was conscious and watching. The vision would disappear and he’d be locked in unknowing blindness beneath the hood while those bastards did things to him.
“Watch.” Moss dragged the blade across Julius’ flesh, making a two-inch incision.
He couldn’t restrain his shout.
“I won’t stand here a—”
“Wait.” General Pitch leaned closer. “He’s not bleeding.”
Moss pushed the edges of the wound aside.
Sweet baby Jesus, that hurt like a mother fucker.
They both leaned forward.
The General pulled the surgical light closer. “He’s empty. My God.”
“Good guess.” Azazel used Julius’ voice. “But you can call me Great One.”
Julius struggled to maintain focus through the searing burn in his gut. He didn’t want to risk missing anything, not when things were critical. He panted through the pain, clinging to the vision like a life line.
Ruby wet her lips. “Is he an extraterrestrial?”
“Well, I am other-worldly.” Azazel chuckled.
Moss scowled. “We haven’t been able to get any straight answers from him.” He shrugged. “Our best guess is he may be.”
The General motioned to Julius. “You think he’s the answer?”
Moss nodded. “Crowley is immune to everything we’ve thrown at him. His DNA is the answer.”
“This is unprecedented.” Ruby paced away. Turned back to the men. “I can’t begin to imagine what the FDA’s recommendation would be. The approval process might take years; he’s not even human.”
Moss took her hand in his. “After the public scandals of events like Operation Orange, the military doesn’t need any more bad press, Ruby. The public knows we lost our bio-weapon to the enemy. That it’s been used against us. And they’re watching. So far, the American people have been distracted by everything else going on in the news, but that won’t last.”
Moss strode to one of the windows looking down into the surrounding pods. He motioned her over. The perspective of Azazel’s vision shifted, allowing him to see below where seventeen men were housed in hospital beds, covered in IVs and breathing tubes. A priest performed last rites for one. A minister sat with another. “They continue to deteriorate. We lost another last week.”
Ruby nodded. “I understand your concern, but—”
“With the IRB’s approval, I can start clinical trials. We can save them if we don’t have to wait for the FDA.”
No wonder these people interested Azazel, they had the power to allow or deny the continuation of Moss’ experiments. They could stop Armageddon.
Or they could start it.
“Think about the ramifications of going t
hrough the full approval process,” Moss continued. “The religious lobby alone would lock the decision up for decades.”
Her lips pressed together. “He’s not human. I doubt they’d lift a finger in protest.”
Azazel spoke and Julius’ voice drifted through the lab. “Not one but many, the horseman white. All their followers walk the path of light. The promise of heaven is halo bright. But the faithful are blinded—evil, can’t sight.”
Ruby’s attention riveted on Julius’ hood during the recital. “Is he even sane?”
“Quite.” Dr. Moss didn’t look so sure. “I’m afraid he takes perverse pleasure in his jokes and creepiness.”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She rubbed her palms up her arms. “As long as he’s the key we’re looking for.”
Julius almost moaned. No angel of mercy this one; she’d herald in the end of the world without ever realizing it.
Ruby’s gaze shot to the hood as Azazel continued. “The horseman of red; she rides alone. Compassion and peace she can’t condone. Her sword of fire all men bemoan. As kingdoms fall and kings dethroned.”
What was Azazel doing? Was he so confident in his success he didn’t fear frightening them off?
Moss raised his voice. “Mr. Crowley, that’s enough.”
“When can you start treatment, Moss?” Pitch returned to the gurney, his attention fixed on Julius’ wound, a wound healing even now. “I’ve got sick men on the field I need for fighting.”
“A horseman of black in his robes of night, brandishes his scythe bringing hunger and strife.”
Moss turned toward his backers with an apologetic smile. “He’s reciting an old Apocryphal poem. He talks non-stop most of the time.”
“Mankind will rally, and all will fight. Only death will reward you during this plight.”
The General appeared to take Azazel’s antics in stride, though a small scowl marred his features. Ruby, on the other hand, didn’t look well. Good. If Azazel kept pressing his luck she’d never give her approval.
“I said, enough.” Dr. Moss’ demand echoed in the lab.
Of course Azazel didn’t listen, but this time when he spoke from beneath the hood, the voice no longer sounded like it belonged to Julius. This voice was inhuman. Guttural. It sent a shiver up his spine. “A pestilence follows the horseman pale.”
Dr. Moss took a step back.
They all took a step back.
“No weapon he carries, no chainmail.”
Dr. Moss moved to lift the hood, then snatched his hand back.
“The apocalypse he hails. Arrogance his cross. This nobody lab rat by the name of Moss.”
Moss raised a trembling hand to mop at his brow. He swallowed hard, glancing at the others. He chuckled as if he were in on the joke, but his laugh sounded strained, forced. “I believe you forgot your line, Mr. Crowley. I’ve heard this poem before. The last two lines should be ‘A plague he bestows in unimaginable scale. We cry for mercy, but he will prevail.’”
When Azazel spoke again, Julius’ voice returned to normal. Amused. “Oh, it’ll all be the same in the end.”
Chapter 17
You know how it is, we can’t leave our mates.
Duncan paced himself, ignoring the stitch in his side from his healing wound and staying behind Trina as they ran through the forest alongside the road. She panted, clutching her side, but didn’t slow down. They were well away from Augustina’s little cabin.
What the hell might be going through her mind right now? Couldn’t be anything good. With her distain for daemon kind she must be doing her head in trying to think of a way to get out of transformation and still save her friend.
“We’re good, Duchess.” He sucked in a breath.
She didn’t slow her pace. He didn’t like how fast her heart beat, nor how hard she gasped for air. He sped up, put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to slow. Still, she resisted. “Stop.” He picked her up off her feet, stopped, and set her down.
“They’re dying!” Tears streaked down her face. Her breath came so hard and fast he started to worry she might hyperventilate. She jerked her hand out of his and started walking again.
“But you’re not.” He followed her, ready to grab her should she try to run again. “I’m not any happier than you to leave them back there, but you heard them. They knew what they were doing. I’ll be damned if I watch you sacrifice yourself trying to save those who don’t want to be saved.”
“We should’ve . . . ” She flung her hand out.
He spun her around pulled her into his arms. “Come here.”
“What’re you—”
“I’m not letting go until you settle down. Your heart’s beating too fast. Your breathing’s too shallow. You need to walk. You understand? Calm yourself.”
She nodded and he released her, keeping hold of her hand as they walked. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Shush.” He gave her hand a little squeeze, as if with a little pressure he could still her trembling. “Give it a minute. Don’t think. Don’t talk.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No, I mean I can’t . . . do this. When James transformed Lilith she turned into an immortal human. And I’m the opposite of her, so what if you transform me and I turn into a mortal vampire? I can’t . . . let you bite me.”
He didn’t have a ready response for that worry, so he shot her a side-long glance. “I’m not hungry, but thanks.”
“Wha—?” She let out a little chuckle. “That was lame.”
“Yeah, it was.” Damn, he liked this woman, but good God was her life a train wreck. Robert’s comment continued to echo in his head. You know how it is, we can’t leave our mates. The worst part? The more he considered the idea of having Trina as a mate, the more he liked the idea.
Still, he had some questions for her. Needed to find a way to get her to trust him and quit lying to him.
“When you said people can’t see you until you draw attention to yourself, what did you mean? Is it a spell or something?”
“No. It’s just . . . like that. They don’t see me. When those two RI guys caught us at Rowena’s they didn’t see me. They should’ve, the back of the couch faced the sliding glass door. I saw them . . . but they didn’t notice me.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”
“If I hadn’t spoken to Augustina, she wouldn’t have, either.”
He paused, forced her to look at him. Things weren’t quite adding up and it bothered him. If he was going to risk his skin for her, she needed to start ’fessin’ up. “How did you serve in the Navy if they couldn’t see you?”
“I wasn’t always like this.” They started walking again. “Not as a kid; back then I was notorious.”
That he could relate to.
“It wasn’t until after I left. The first four years were fine. I didn’t notice anything unusual. I enjoyed being enlisted, being accepted. Part of something bigger than myself. When it came time, I re-upped for another four years.”
“What changed?”
“Lilith came to visit quite often. She made purchases for the coven’s online store and traveled a lot. It just worked out that we ended up in nearby ports quite often.”
“Didn’t think you could tell people where you were docking.”
“We can’t. But . . . you know . . . Magic.” She shrugged. “She’d come when I had a bit of leave and we’d hang out. Then . . . we both got busy and didn’t have time to visit.”
He guided her deeper inside the tree line. “The longer you were apart—”
“—the more I disappeared.” She kicked a stone, making it skip through the dirt. “My friends wouldn’t say ‘hi’ in the passageways unless I did first. My captain started marking me absent for meetings. I got sent to Captain’s Mast for dereliction of duty—while on watch, three people came on board but none of them saw me.” She shrugged. “I was reading. I shouldn’t have been. I didn’t notice them. It went from bad to
worse fast. I was at the end of my second enlistment, so I just didn’t re-up.”
“You lasted eight years. Where were you the other two?”
She shrugged. “I stayed in Bremerton. Started a web design business. I told the coven—Lilith, everyone—I was still enlisted. I mean what do you say, ‘Hey, I know we haven’t seen each other in a while, but I’ve actually disappeared?’ No one knows . . . well, except you, now.”
He liked that, knowing one of her secrets. He stared at her as they walked. Something still wasn’t adding up. There was more to the story. Like why the hell hadn’t she come back? Most people ran to a safe place when the world went upside down. Something else had kept her away. He just hoped to hell her past didn’t start interfering with her immediate future. They had enough to deal with.
*****
Smyrna Island
Revelations Industries Laboratory
“They’re out of control!”
In the stifling pitch of the hood, Julius’ mouth spread into an evil smirk—Azazel seemed pleased.
It was done.
In the distance, somewhere outside of the room they were in, people screamed. The scent of blood tinged the air, making his mouth water.
Azazel spoke to Moss through Julius. “Out of control?”
“You should’ve warned us.” Moss’ voice cracked.
“Why, because the accommodations have been so luxurious? Because of your kid-glove treatment?”
Julius agreed. This place was a fucking nightmare.
“My staff is dying.” Moss’ voice trailed off. “Oh, my God. My God.” He sounded hoarse, raw. A man didn’t sound like that unless he’d been jolted past the limits of understanding and reason. “Tell me what to do. Anything. How do I stop them?”
“Tell me where we are.” Why ask something Azazel already knew?
“The observation pod.”
“You can see them from here—the Nephilim?”
Bastard. This whole conversation was for his benefit—so he could imagine what the other two were seeing while stifled under his hood and chained down to the gurney, helpless.
The Shadow: The Original's Trilogy Page 13