The lycan howled in pain and Hem grabbed him by the neck, raising him off the ground. Hem roared in the werewolf’s face and then repeated his question.
“D-Downstairs…” said the lycan, struggling to speak. With his remaining good arm, he pointed to the bookshelves.
Hem squeezed until the lycan’s neck was crushed beneath his grip, then dropped him to the ground. He turned his attention to the bookshelves and roared, driving his fists through them. Hem tore the wood away, revealing a hidden entrance and stairs leading down.
Celeste was down there, and she needed his help. He’d failed her twice so far—first, he hadn’t been there to protect her when Odysseus’ men had attacked at the hotel, and now he’d allowed her to get taken captive. Hem vowed he wouldn’t fail a third time.
He charged down the stairs, seeing the door ahead. Hem barreled into it shoulder-first, knocking the door from its hinges and falling through the entryway. Two more lycans were down here, shocked at what they had just seen. Hem saw Odysseus standing over Raziel, crimson energy coursing from his body into the angel. The sorcerer didn’t seem concerned with him.
That would be his last mistake.
“Hem!”
He looked behind and saw Celeste fastened to the wall. Hem instinctively moved towards her, but just as he was about to release her, one of the lycans jumped on his back. Hem felt claws dig into his skin.
Hem reached behind his back and managed to grab hold of the lycan’s hair. He pulled the lycan off and threw him into the other, who had just been about to move. Hem then turned to Celeste and grabbed the shackle around her left wrist. He pulled it free from its wall mount and did the same to the second, then took off the ones on her ankles.
“How is this possible?” she asked. “I saw you die.”
“Yetis aren’t so easy to kill, Mistress,” he said.
The two lycans had recovered and stood ready to attack. Hem prepared himself to strike, but Celeste moved in front of him as her claws extended. “I got this,” she said. “Help Raz.”
Hem didn’t want to leave her to face the two lycans alone, but before he could protest, Celeste reaffirmed her ability to take care of herself. The two lycans moved on her, and she met their attacks with ease, distracting them so Hem could focus on Odysseus. The yeti didn’t know what was going on here, but he knew that whatever Odysseus was doing to Raziel, it couldn’t be good.
“Black!” he roared.
Odysseus didn’t say a word, didn’t even look to acknowledge that he heard Hem. He was so focused on the task at hand and Hem could see red energy now circling around Odysseus’ entire body. A ghostly image of Odysseus, composed of the same energy, began to emerge from the body, moving its ethereal hand towards the angel.
Hem charged, tackling Odysseus to the ground and breaking the link. Odysseus retaliated by using magic to throw Hem off him. The sorcerer got to his feet and brushed himself off. His eyes burned with magic, and he held his hand out towards the yeti, power coalescing in his palm.
“You stupid beast. I won’t let you ruin what I’ve worked so hard to achieve!”
The power shot from his palm and struck Hem in the chest. He tried to fight it, but the energy was strong. Hem’s entire body felt like it was on fire, yet he wouldn’t stop trying to push closer, attempting to close the distance between them. I won’t fail her again was the thought that kept racing through his mind, giving him determination to keep fighting, even if it meant he actually would die this time.
But out of the corner of his eye, Hem watched as Celeste moved from the defeated lycans. She snuck towards the table while Odysseus was preoccupied and pushed Raziel off it. Then, she smashed her hands through the sigil painted on its surface.
Odysseus heard that, because he ceased his attack on Hem and looked at Celeste. With his free hand, he threw her against the bookcase, pinning her there. “No!” he bellowed. “Not when I’m so close!”
A bright, blinding light filled the room. Hem raised his arm to shield his eyes. As it began to dim, Hem could see Raziel hovering in the room, the light emanating from large, feathered wings. Raziel’s eyes burned bright blue and azure flames formed in his hands. He hurled the soulfire at Odysseus and the sorcerer screamed.
“You thought you could control an angel?” asked Raziel, shouting over the screams. “You wanted my power? Take it!”
Odysseus screamed louder. Hem had fallen to the ground and watched with a grin forming on his face. Though he wished he could crush the sorcerer’s head between his own hands, he felt a sense of satisfaction over watching the angel destroy Odysseus.
“Raz, don’t!”
“Mistress…?” asked Hem, watching as Celeste ran to Raziel’s side, grabbing his arm and trying to pull it away.
“What are you doing?” asked Raziel, turning and looking at Celeste.
“There are things he knows!” said Celeste. “About the angel, about Luther—”
“He tried to enslave me!”
“I know, but we have to—”
Their argument distracted Hem, and so he wasn’t able to notice Odysseus crawling forward, taking the book he’d been reading from in his hands. Odysseus gave Hem one last look and winked. Crimson energy whirled around the sorcerer, drawing both Celeste and Raziel’s attention.
When it faded, Odysseus Black was gone.
“Dammit!” shouted Raziel. He turned to Celeste, the fire burning in his eyes. “You let him escape!”
“I was trying to stop you from screwing things up!” said Celeste.
“We didn’t need him,” said Raziel. “Luther and the others will find Luxton.”
“We don’t know that,” said Celeste. “Odysseus said the angel set a trap for them in Purgatory.”
“But how—?” The flame vanished from Raziel’s eyes, replaced by a look of horror. “Dear God…”
“What is it?” asked Celeste.
“I have to go.” Those were the last words Raziel said as his wings lit up again. They wrapped around his body and he was gone in a flash.
Celeste sighed and went over to Hem. She helped him to his feet, and he groaned. Every inch of him hurt with each movement he made. Hem looked at her, and she smiled, which helped to ease the pain.
“Where did he go?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Looked like he just realized he left the stove on,” said Celeste. “We should get out of here, fast. We’ll try and make sense of this all later.”
28
Tessa stood when the second agent arrived in the room. Moore referred to his partner as Grant, and with the two of them here, Tessa knew things had just taken a turn for the worse. Cain didn’t waste any time, immediately opening fire on the two agents. Tessa watched in amazement as Grant’s rapid movements allowed him to easily evade Cain’s bullets. And Moore just stood still, holding up his hand, the bullets slamming against a magical shield.
But while Cain kept the agents distracted, Tessa focused her efforts on Luther’s comatose body. She slapped his face a few times, but his eyes never registered anything. He was still stuck in his trance.
“Dammit, Luther, we don’t have time for this!” Tessa placed her hands on his chest and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate her energy. She reached out with her senses, trying to make a connection with Luther.
She could detect him. He was still in there, somewhere. That was good; it meant Luther wasn’t too far gone just yet. But could she pull him back was the real question. The energy of Purgatory was unpredictable, though Tessa had no choice but to draw on it to try and make her spell work.
Tessa had never dreamwalked before. She knew how the spell worked, knew how to manipulate her energy to make it happen. But knowing and doing were two very different things. And as she visualized herself traveling into Luther’s head, she was met by a brick wall keeping her out.
“No, this can’t be happening…” she said, her ethereal fists striking the barrier.
After several blows, cracks started to appear in
the brick and Tessa started to feel hopeful. But then, a moment later, the cracks were repaired, good as new. Anger filled her and she struck the barrier even harder, pouring all her energy into her attacks. Larger cracks formed, but were then gone even faster than before. Luther’s defenses were too strong for a novice dreamwalker like her to penetrate.
Tessa was yanked from the dreamscape. She opened her eyes and saw strands of rope wrapped around her legs, pulling her away from Luther. Tessa looked up and saw that it wasn’t rope at all. Strands of hair from Moore’s beard had grown to ridiculous lengths, the hairs strong enough to draw her towards him.
“I don’t think this is a very efficient use of your energy, Ms. Kang,” said Moore, his voice as calm and polite as ever. “You see, we do have orders here on what must be done. We cannot allow you or Mr. Cain to defile Purgatory more than you have. The master is quite displeased with the trouble you’ve caused thus far.”
Tessa focused her energy into her hands, feeling the electricity move between the tips of her fingers. Her eyes crackled with power and she aimed her fingers at the well-dressed agent. “Tell your master to shove it.”
Electricity flowed from her hands, striking the rope-like strands of hair. Smoke rose from them, and they caught fire. Moore broke the strands with a wave of his hand just above where the fire was moving towards.
Tessa pulled the now-loose strands from her legs and rose to her feet. She pointed her hands again, releasing the electricity into Moore’s body. The force of it threw him back against the wall and Tessa continued to channel the power through him. This was working. She couldn’t believe it, but this was actually working. She was going up against one of the guardians of Purgatory and winning.
But that ended quickly when she was knocked off her feet. Tessa shook her head and saw that Cain was lying on top of her. She pushed him off and examined the ancient murderer. He didn’t have any visible injuries, but he looked like he was in pain.
“Cain, you still alive?” she asked.
“Unfortunately,” he groaned.
Tessa helped him to his feet, and she heard chuckling. Turning her attention forward, she saw Grant walking towards them. Just behind him, she saw Moore recovering from her attack, his entire body smoking but otherwise fine.
“That was quite amusing,” said Grant, smiling at the pair. “But I’m afraid our time is up. Our patience only extends so far, and we cannot continue to put up with these antics of yours.”
Cain moved away from Tessa and drew his dagger. He pointed the blade at the agents. “I’m not about to go down that easy.”
“Makes two of us,” said Tessa.
“Then by all means.” Grant held out his arm and beckoned for them to attack.
Cain took the bait, rushing the agent. He thrust forward with his dagger, but Grant dodged it with the same speed as he had the bullets. Another swipe from Cain and another dodge. Cain moved really fast himself, but Grant was on another level, almost like a blur. She had trouble following his movements and wondered how Cain could even come close to striking him.
Grant retaliated. In the brief glimpses Tessa caught of him, she watched as Grant slammed his knee into Cain’s abdomen. Another flash and she saw Grant drive his elbow against Cain’s back, knocking him to the ground. Then a final kick to his head.
The knife skittered across the floor, landing at Tessa’s feet. She knelt down to pick it up. With the dagger in one hand and magical energy encircling her other, she readied herself against the two agents.
“It is not our intention to harm you, Ms. Kang,” said Grant. “Is it, Mr. Moore?”
“Oh, heavens no, Mr. Grant,” said Moore. “The master thinks you show great potential, Ms. Kang.”
“Oh, yes, the master has been quite impressed by your progress so far in the area of the magical. Under his tutelage, you would make for a very fine agent.”
“Imagine it, Ms. Kang. All the secrets of Purgatory, open for you. And all you have to do is simply…stop. Cease this pointless battle.”
“In the end, it really won’t accomplish much,” said Grant. “You have managed to draw some energy from Purgatory. But—correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Moore—you and I are far more skilled in that department.”
“You are both a gentleman and a scholar, Mr. Grant,” said Moore. “You see, Ms. Kang, you simply cannot defeat us. So, either you surrender…”
“Or we will have no choice but to resort to a rather…unsavory conclusion,” said Grant.
“You boys drive a hard bargain,” said Tessa. “But I think I’d rather die than end up your master’s bitch.”
“Such language is unbecoming of a lady,” said Moore. “I do believe I’m starting to dislike her, Mr. Grant. May I do the honors?”
“Normally, it would be my pleasure to acquiesce to your request, Mr. Moore. But I’ve yet to have the opportunity to get acquainted with her. So, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience…?”
“By all means, Mr. Grant.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Grant raised a hand to his sunglasses and lifted them up. He had no eyes to speak of, just empty sockets. But when Tessa looked into those sockets, a strange feeling washed over her. Suddenly, she couldn’t figure out which way was up. The entire room started shaking, the apartment and everyone in it melting into the floor—or was that the ceiling?
The only constant was Grant’s smiling face and his empty eye sockets. Tessa’s entire body screamed in pain—but she couldn’t determine the source. It was like being burned alive and frozen to death simultaneously. Her skin felt like it was trying to peel itself from her bones. She wanted to direct a counter-spell at Grant, but she couldn’t keep her focus long enough to do so.
“That’s right, Ms. Kang.”
Grant’s voice sounded both distant, yet also near. It echoed around her. Tessa wanted to lash out with the knife, but didn’t know where to strike. She couldn’t even see if she had the knife anymore. Everywhere she turned, his grinning visage greeted her.
“Succumb, my dear,” his voice said, though his lips never moved once. “Succumb to Purgatory. Succumb to Thanatos.”
“Th-Thanatos…?”
“Be one with oblivion.”
Tessa felt herself sinking. Her body was too weak to fight it anymore. The darkness flowed over her, sucking her in deeper. She felt numb to everything. All she wanted to do was curl up and stay here, leave everything behind.
“No! Impossible!”
With those words from Grant, everything shattered. Tessa was on her hands and knees, back in the apartment. The strange sensations Grant had inflicted on her were gone, and she took a deep breath. What had happened? Why had Grant just stopped?
She looked up and saw both Grant and Moore looking shocked, staring past her. Tessa followed their gaze and an overwhelming sense of joy flooded her body. There was a bright light illuminating the entire apartment in the form of a flame held in the palm of a hand.
Luther was awake, holding a ball of fire. His eyes burned bright crimson as he stared at the two agents. And the edge of his lips rose in a smirk.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “I’d like to have a word with you.”
29
The fire stayed within the bounds of my palms, flames dancing between my fingertips. I stared through the fire, looking at the faces of Grant and Moore, and I smiled. Somehow, it had all worked, and I’d managed to escape the dreamscape, back to my own body, now finally in control again.
“Mr. Cross, this is most unexpected,” said Moore.
“Indeed, Mr. Cross. You should have heeded our warning.” Grant punctuated his sentence with a few clicks of his tongue. “Very disappointing, good sir.”
Moore mimicked Grant’s clicks. “I’m afraid I must agree with my colleague.”
“I’m the one giving the warnings now,” I said. “Get out of here or you’ll regret it.”
Grant and Moore exchanged looks with each other and chuckled.
“I’m afraid that i
s something we cannot do, Mr. Cross,” said Grant.
“Our sincerest apologies, my good man,” said Moore.
“Have it your way.”
I threw the fireball and it exploded once it struck the ground in front of the two. They scattered like roaches, getting ready for their next strike. I didn’t know what to expect from these two, but judging from the fact that Cain was lying on the ground, I had a feeling they were pretty tough.
“Tess,” I said, giving a quick nod to the witch. She sat on the ground, obviously weakened. I could sense how drained her magic was, and Cain looked unconscious. So, looked like it was all on me to finish off these two.
Tessa smiled and replied with, “Never thought I’d be so happy to see your ugly face.”
“Please, we both know you want a piece of this.”
“Look out!” she cried.
I turned just in time to see how Moore planned to retaliate. His beard snaked across the distance separating us. I grabbed one of the rope-like tentacles as it came within reach, but others quickly wrapped around my arms, my torso, my legs. Moore’s beard raised me off the ground and thick strands curled around my neck, squeezing it.
The muscles in my neck stiffened, trying to provide as much resistance as I could possibly muster. It wasn’t enough, and I started to choke. I stared at Tessa, making eye contact with her, and then looking at the knife that lay on the ground. She nodded in understanding and grabbed the knife.
Tessa cut into the hair around my throat and I could breathe again. She continued to hack away at Moore’s tendrils until I was just free enough to handle the rest on my own. I took the knife back and cut through the rest.
“Mr. Cross, this behavior is quite unacceptable. I prefer my beard to be trimmed by only the finest barbers in Purgatory,” said Moore.
No matter how much I cut, that damn beard kept growing. It’s like this asshole was the patron saint of hipsters everywhere. I grabbed as much of the hairs as I could fit in my hand and yanked on it. The strength I showed surprised even me, because Moore flew towards me.
Devil's Descent (Luther Cross Book 2) Page 19