The Belial War

by R. D. Brady

  He smiled. “Beautiful, but tired.”

  Laney shrugged. “Just a lot to figure out.”

  “You mean how you are going to respond to Elisabeta’s invitation?”

  Laney winced. “I suppose it was too much to hope you might not have seen that part of the message.”

  He took a breath. “So, what exactly are you planning on doing?”

  Laney shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Really?” She could feel his gaze on her. She nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

  “Laney, look at me.”

  With a sigh, she looked into his face.

  “I have known you for all of your life. I know you. I know what you have decided to do.”

  “How can I not?” she asked softly. “One life is a small price to pay for the chance to save millions.”

  “Do you honestly think that by letting Elisabeta kill you that you will be helping?”

  “Yes, no, maybe.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I know it’s a long shot. But I can buy the rest of the world time. Maybe they can figure out a way that—”

  “That what, Laney? The world of the Fallen is brand new to them. Elisabeta is brand new to them. Do you really think they will get up to speed in the twenty-four hours you will buy them?”

  “I don’t know. But how can I not, knowing their deaths could have been avoided?”

  “You don’t know that. Elisabeta is not exactly known for keeping her word. She could kill you and still set off a bomb.”

  She sighed, sinking lower into the chair. “I know, I know.”

  “Then why? Until we have a way to defeat her, you cannot risk yourself.”

  When Laney spoke, her voice was quiet, because somewhere down deep, she feared that by speaking too loudly her fears would be proven true. “Because what if there is no way to defeat her? What if millions die, and I still can’t figure out how to defeat her?”

  “Then it is still not on you. You are the ring bearer, yes, but you are not omnipotent. There is a limit to what even you can do. There is limit to what anyone can do.”

  “Except Elisabeta. She has no limits.”

  “Laney, give yourself time to figure something out. Give yourself time to come up with a plan. Promise me.”

  Laney stood. “I can’t promise that.”

  This time Patrick was the one who looked away, a tremor in his voice. “I have said goodbye to you too many times now. I won’t say it again.”

  She nodded, a catch in her own throat. “Then don’t. But know that no matter what happens next, I love you. And that I thank you for raising me. Who I am is because of you.”

  He gave a small laugh even as tears crested in his eyes. “Don’t blame that on me.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Oh, I do.” She turned for the door, concentrating on keeping her breathing even.

  “Laney,” he called as her hand touched the doorknob.

  She didn’t turn around, knowing the tears would fall if she did. “Yeah?”

  “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “I’ll see you later,” she echoed before opening the door and closing it softly behind her. She bowed her head, leaning against the wall taking a moment to try and get her emotions under control. Then she straightened, running a trembling hand over the door.

  Goodbye, Uncle.

  Chapter 64

  Drake pounded down the roads, cutting off a car that slammed on its brakes, but he didn’t stop.

  Stubborn, obstinate woman, he growled in his mind. She was handing herself over to Elisabeta on a platter, a gods damn platter.

  And it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. Elisabeta was still going to run roughshod over the governments of the world. She was going to destroy anyone who stood up against her. And without Laney, no one would stand for long.

  Why didn’t she see that? It was clear as day to Drake that the only reason Elisabeta demanded Laney’s surrender was because she was the only threat. And how do you get Laney to do what you want? You threaten someone. Or a world of someones.

  But Laney needed to realize she was not some nameless drone in a sea of people. She was the only one who could do what she could do. She needed to lead the fight, not martyr herself before it even began.

  Drake’s thoughts circled around and around, shifting from berating Laney for her foolishness to trying to figure out a way to talk her out of it. Before he knew it, he was standing on the water’s edge, watching boats come in and out of Chesapeake Bay.

  From here, the world looked peaceful. But he’d run through streets, seen the panic that Elisabeta had caused. More than one fist had been thrown in anger. People were losing their minds, and with good reason.

  He breathed in deep, inhaling the air, knowing where he needed to be. With one last look at the water, he headed back to the estate, back to Laney’s side. She might be about to do the stupidest thing she possibly could, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t be standing next to her when she did it.

  He took his time getting back, wanting to give himself and Laney some time. More her than him, because, in all honesty, she was the one who needed to come to her senses. She needed to lead with her head and not her heart.

  But he would stand by her side, no matter what she decided. He had lost her once trying to force his will on her. He would not do it again. But he sure as hell would rip Elisabeta’s head from her shoulders the minute she or any of her people made a move toward Laney.

  Feeling better, he jogged toward the estate with a wave at the guards as he bypassed the long line of cars and simply leapt over the fence. Cleo appeared from between the trees as he headed for Sharecropper’s Lane.

  “Where is she, girl?”

  Cleo nudged him toward the bomb shelter. He nodded, changing directions. As he was about to step from the path, he saw her ahead, just exiting the shelter. Her shoulders were hunched, and she looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He was about to step out when she turned her head at someone calling her name. Jake waved her over to a golf cart. She climbed into the cart. Jake turned it around and headed for the main house.

  Drake sighed, knowing he could have stopped them. But he was delaying the coming conversation.

  “Drake.”

  He turned as Cain walked up the path toward him, Nyssa tottering behind him. Nyssa let out a squeal as she caught sight of Cleo. Cleo moved quickly in front of her. She grabbed onto Cleo with a giant grin, babbling something at the giant cat. Cleo gave her a giant lick in response.

  “She looks no worse for wear,” Drake said.

  “Yes, she is doing well.”

  “And Patrick?”

  “As well as can be expected.” Cain nodded to where Laney had disappeared. “She is a strong woman.”

  “You mean a stubborn one,” Drake muttered.

  “That, too.” He paused. “Patrick asked to speak with you.”

  “Me?”

  Cain nodded.

  “About what?”

  “I think you know.”

  Drake paused. “Okay. Are you two heading down?”

  “No. I think we’ll spend some time outside with Cleo here.”

  Drake made his way down to the bomb shelter, carefully wending his way through the sea of humanity that milled around the place. Turning down the hall, he paused at Patrick’s bedroom door, knocking softly.

  “Come in,” Patrick called.

  Drake stepped inside. “You wanted to speak with me?”

  “Yes. Close the door.”

  Drake did, then stepped to the bed, surprised by Patrick’s sharp tone. “What can I do for you?”

  Patrick glared at him. “You’re an archangel, right?”

  Drake nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  Patrick crossed his arms over his chest. “Just making sure. Because my niece is apparently planning on committing suicide, and I’d like to know just what you plan on doing to stop it.”

  Chapter 65

  It wa
s the first time Laney could remember that the path from the bomb shelter to the main house had people on it. She and Jake had to weave around kids, couples, and grandparents. It was surreal.

  “How many extra people are on the estate right now?”

  “Close to three hundred. We are going to put as many in Dom’s as possible, but there are some reinforced tunnels underneath the estate as well that we’ll make use of.”

  Laney nodded, trying not to imagine a direct hit on the estate or anywhere else. It would be a dystopian nightmare come to life. “What about Mary Jane?”

  Jake shook his head. “She wouldn’t leave Boston. Her family’s huge, and we couldn’t take them all. She’s staying with them.”

  Laney’s chest tightened. She didn’t know what to say. That they’d be all right was guesswork at best, and anything else was probably too on the nose, so she switched the topic. “So what do I need to see?”

  Jake glanced at her, then away. “Elisabeta put out another clip.”

  Laney’s breath caught. “And?”

  “And,” he said, pausing, “just wait. You need to see it yourself.”

  Jake came around the last turn, and the main house came into view, or at least what was left of it. The two wings of the building were now just shattered remnants. But the central part of the house still stood. Jake pulled up to the veranda around the back.

  “We’re heading to the kitchen.”

  Laney nodded, heading to the right. Jake reached the door just ahead of her and held it open. Yoni and Henry looked up from the island. Neither of them smiled.

  Laney stepped in. “Well, I’m guessing this isn’t good news.”

  Yoni crossed his arms over his chest. “She doesn’t need to see this.”

  “Yes, she does,” Jake argued. “She’ll see it eventually. Better here, surrounded by us, than being caught unaware.”

  Henry stood with his mouth in a tight line.

  Yoni grumped, taking a seat. Henry pulled out the chair next to him for Laney. She took a seat slowly, eyeing the iPad on the table like it was a snake about to bite.

  Oh, I so don’t want to see this, she thought even as she found herself pulling the iPad toward her.

  Henry put a hand on the iPad before she could straighten it. “You need to prepare yourself.”

  She nodded, but inside she felt the familiar lickings of dread. “Okay.”

  She propped the iPad up. Elisabeta’s face was frozen on the screen, but the background this time was outdoors. She could see the sky, a dirt road or driveway, and just the edge of a building in the background.

  Yoni stood. “I can’t watch this again. I’m going to check on Sascha and Dov.” He squeezed Laney’s shoulder before disappearing out the back door. Jake took the seat he’d just vacated. Henry stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit play.

  Elisabeta sprang to life. “After my last broadcast, I began to think about my threats, and I realized perhaps some of you are under the illusion that the threat posed is not that great. That perhaps my people are not as strong as they appear. Or that I am not as committed as I appear.

  “Let me put those fears to rest.”

  The camera panned to the right. A group of three dozen children in matching uniforms stood lined up. But then the camera operator pulled back, and Laney realized she had greatly underestimated the number. There were at least three hundred, all wearing matching uniforms—pale blue shirts and dark navy pants. About a dozen adults stood amongst the children, all of them looking terrified. They were in a courtyard, buildings surrounding them on all sides. Men with guns trained on the courtyard were positioned on all the rooftops Laney could see.

  But those weren’t the people Laney was worried about. No, the people she was worried about were the dozen or so unarmed men and women that stood on the edge of the group—the ones who did not look terrified.

  “This,” Elisabeta narrated, “is the St. Augustine Middle School, grades six through eight. Three hundred and twelve students and fifteen teachers. Now, as I mentioned, if you do not meet my demands, one of the repercussions is that I will let my Fallen run through your streets, destroying at will. I thought I would give you a little demonstration of what that would look like.”

  Laney gripped the table as the Fallen blurred, and the screaming began. But the screams were soon cut short. All she could see were objects flying across the screen. They were moving too fast for her to make out, but she knew what they were—bodies. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was how quickly all the action stopped, how silent the courtyard became, without a sniffle or a cry. Nothing. Not a single sound. None of the children or teachers were left standing. All now lay where they’d been felled, unmoving.

  Laney put her hand to her mouth. Her mind struggled to accept the horror of what she was seeing. The camera operator panned across the bodies, most twisted at unusual angles. Others with gaping holes in their chest. One head was missing from its shoulders altogether. The camera operator stopped focusing on one girl, her neck bent unnaturally, her bright blue eyes staring at nothing, her mouth open in a silent scream.

  The camera stayed on the girl for what felt like hours, but it was only seconds before Elisabeta’s smug face reappeared.

  “Now, for those of you who are a little too shell-shocked to pay strict attention, let me confirm: This little presentation took 4.7 seconds. Three hundred and twenty-seven lives in 4.7 seconds. Imagine what we can do with an hour? A day? A week? There will be nowhere safe from us.

  “You will turn over control of your countries and Delaney McPhearson, or this small demonstration will be replayed in your countries over and over again.” She smiled before the screen went black.

  Laney sat back, feeling numb. All those children, gone. She knew who Elisabeta was, yet even she was shocked by the caliber of cruelty in the attack.

  “She did this to make sure you would come to her,” Jake said. “You can’t let it work.”

  Laney said nothing.

  “Laney?” Henry squeezed her shoulder.

  But still she said nothing, her mind frozen on the little girl staring up at nothing.

  “We never should have shown it to her,” Henry said.

  “It is everywhere now. Not showing her wasn’t an option,” Jake said. “Laney?”

  She looked over at Jake, her mind feeling slow. “She killed all of them just to show the world she could.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “She’ll do anything to get to me.”

  “You cannot give in to her,” Henry said.

  “Even if I don’t, what exactly is our plan? We have people stationed all over the world. But we don’t even know if they are in the right place.”

  “If you go up against her, you’ll die,” Henry said.

  Laney nodded. Her inability to heal had always been her weakness. And never more than now. “I will fight her as long as I can. And when I’m gone, you need to figure out a way to stop her.”

  Henry shook his head. “Laney, you can’t—”

  “I can’t stop her. But I can buy you time to stop her.”

  “Laney—”

  She stood, shaking her head, cutting off Henry’s argument. “She’s won, at least this round. It’s up to you to make sure she doesn’t win the next one.”

  She kissed each of them on the cheek. “I love you both. And I pray that you will both survive this. And if you do, I want you to promise me you will live happy, fulfilled lives.”

  Henry’s voice shook. “Don’t you say—”

  “There is no other decision to make. I’m going to pack a bag and leave for the airfield. This will be our goodbye. You two need to focus on the next step. But once you’ve taken care of everyone else, you need to take care of yourselves. Which means, Jake, you need to get to Boston and Mary Jane. It’s where you should be. And Henry, you need to get to Dom’s. If the unimaginable happens, you will be those people’s best chan
ce.” She paused. “You will be your child’s best chance.”

  “I should be out here. I should be with you,” Henry said.

  Laney opened her mouth to answer him, but Jake beat her to it, his voice heavy. “She’s right. Once we’ve secured everyone, there’s nothing more for us to do. You need to be with Jen. And I need to get to Mary Jane. Elisabeta’s won this round.” He turned to Laney. “You’re not wrong, but I hate this.”

  The pain in his voice nearly dropped Laney’s resolve. She hugged each of them, struggling to hold back the tears. “I’ve got this one. Whatever happens, it’s okay. I accept it.”

  Henry held her close. “There must be another way. Something we can—”

  Laney shook her head as she pulled back, taking a step away from them. “There isn’t, and you know it. Good luck.”

  And before either of them could say another word, she walked out the back door.

  Chapter 66

  Invess, Calevitnia

  A sense of satisfaction rolled through Elisabeta as the camera zoomed in on Delaney McPhearson as she walked across the runway. She had to admit that there had been moments where she’d doubted that McPhearson would willingly turn herself in. That was the whole reason for the second video, just a little nudge to remind McPhearson of what she could help avoid, at least temporarily.

  And it had worked. Elisabeta’s lip curled in distaste at the woman walking confidently across the screen. All the trouble she had caused, and when push came to shove, she fell right over. She was not a worthy opponent. The woman was simply too soft for this battle. Elisabeta would never think to turn herself over to save a few pathetic humans. She would, however, sacrifice as many she needed to reach her objectives. Yet another example of how the strong would always overcome the weak.

  A blur appeared from down the runway, coming to a halt in front of Delaney. Elisabeta leaned forward, wondering which one of McPhearson’s merry band was trying to stop her. She frowned as the archangel materialized. He spoke with her, his shoulders tight, his body language angry.