Hell's Fury

by Davis, Dee

  "Don’t worry. I’ll be right beside you. Now go."

  She pulled her gun out just to be on the safe side, moving toward the vault, her attention split equally between David and the elevator. In only seconds, he’d finished with the drill and was inserting the plastique. Then he attached the fuse, rolling it out as he moved backward toward her and the comparative safety of the vault.

  She opened her mouth to urge him to hurry but the mechanical whir of the elevator stopped her cold. "Someone’s coming."

  "Shoot the panel. Maybe it’ll short out the elevator, or at least slow them down."

  She aimed and fired. Electricity sparked from the control panel, followed by a puff of smoke. For a moment the noise of the dropping elevator continued unimpeded, then with a grinding lurch it came to a stop.

  "Come on, Jessie," David called, hitting the detonator.

  She whirled around and ran toward him, the reverberations of the explosion vibrating beneath her feet. They rounded the corner of the vault just as a gaping hole opened to the left of the steel panel. Dust filled the air, small pebbles raining from the ceiling.

  "This way." He motioned to the improvised entrance. "Quickly. Before they manage to circumvent your handiwork."

  As if spurred on by his words, the elevator groaned once and then began to descend again.

  "They’re coming." She dashed through the hole into the passageway beyond, stopping long enough to make sure that David made it through as well.

  "Go ahead," David yelled. "I’m going to try to close the hole." Jessie pulled out a flashlight and started forward, the light bouncing off the hewn rock of the tunnel. Then she stopped, turning around to retrace her steps. No way was she leaving David on his own. If nothing else she could keep him covered, and handle anyone who managed to get through before he could reseal the tunnel.

  Reaching into his pocket, David produced a metal tube with protruding wires. He touched the wires together and threw the makeshift bomb into the opening. This time there was no controlled blast, the sound almost deafening as the explosion bounced off the stone walls, the reverb throwing David to the ground.

  Mindless of the falling rock and debris, Jessie ran forward, her hands in front of her, feeling for David, reaching out to him with her mind. For a moment there was nothing. Then she felt a wall of anger, and the hard muscle and bone of an arm. Closing her hand on his wrist she jerked him back, using adrenaline-induced strength to yank him clear of the cave-in.

  They rolled to the ground, David covering her body with his. It was over in seconds, the resulting silence almost louder than the blast had been. "Damn it, Jessie," David said, grasping her shoulders. "I told you to run."

  "Well, if I had you’d have been buried alive back there."

  "Better me than you," he mumbled under his breath, his hands searching her face and arms for injury.

  "I’m fine, David." She pushed him away and struggled to her feet, immediately tripping over a fallen rock. "Shit."

  "Jessie?" David’s hand found hers, his voice more gentle this time. "I didn’t mean to ..."

  "I know." They stood for a moment, the dark surrounding them, communicating only by touch. As the dust cleared, Jessie could see the pale beam of her flashlight. By some miracle it had survived the fall.

  "Looks like the explosion worked," she said, pulling away to pick up the flashlight. "But I dropped my gun."

  She moved the flashlight in slow arcs, the beam illuminating rocks and debris. No gun. "It must have been buried in the explosion," she said, cursing her stupidity.

  "Doesn’t matter," David said, blotting at the scrape on his arm. "I’ve got mine. Where’s the box?"

  "I put it down over there." She moved the flashlight to the far wall, the beam bouncing off the golden box. "Before the explosion."

  "Great," David said. "So what do you say we get out of here?" She nodded, then bent to retrieve the box. David turned on a second flashlight, and together they began to make their way through the tunnel. It twisted and turned for twenty meters or so then suddenly bent in a sharp right angle.

  "Hang on a minute," Jessie said, shifting the box from her right hip to her left. The damn box seemed to be getting heavier with every step.

  "You want me to take that?" David’s expression mirrored only concern, but Jessie had been part of a man’s world for too long not to take his offer as a challenge.

  "No, I’ve got it," she replied, shaking her head, hoisting the box higher.

  "Maybe you should just give it to me." A string of light bulbs sprang to life, the rock walls of the tunnel sparkling silver in the resulting illumination. "It was mine, after all, to begin with." Max Braun stood at the curve of the tunnel, a very lethal-looking Walther in his hand. Flanking him on either side were two of his security goons, both armed to the teeth.

  "Well, if you want to be technical," David said, "the box isn’t yours either. You stole it from my brother."

  "Your brother was a hired hand." Braun’s disdain was almost a tangible thing. "An expendable one, at that."

  David sprang forward, anger marring his features as he aimed the Sig. "You son of a bitch."

  For one moment everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, Jessie saw David fire, Braun shifting just at the right moment to avoid the bullet. Then his henchmen both fired and she screamed David’s name, diving in front of him, the force of the bullets slamming her back against the wall of the tunnel. The Protector flew through the air, coming to rest against the opposite wall.

  Seeing an opportunity, David hit the ground on a roll, returning fire, his first shot picking off one of the security guards, his second meant for Braun, but the shot embedded in the ceiling instead as Braun dove for the golden box.

  The second security man shot again, but the bullet went wide, ricocheting off the tunnel walls. David fired, nailing the bastard between the eyes.

  Jessie fought to hang on to consciousness, needing to be certain that David was safe before she allowed herself to sink into the oblivion of regeneration. For the moment she was soaked in blood and although she felt no pain, she knew that, for David, it would appear that she was dying.

  To that end, she struggled to her feet, kicking Braun as he moved past her for the box.

  David stood less than a meter away, the anguish on his face breaking her heart.

  She shook her head, trying to reassure him, but couldn’t find the words, the blackness creeping around the edges of her vision now. He yelled something, his voice seeming to come from far away, and then Jessie saw Braun—the Protector in one hand, one of the guard’s weapons in the other.

  "No," she screamed, watching as the man leveled the gun, aiming for David’s head.

  Gunshots seemed to come from everywhere, the accompanying sound seeming overly loud—a rumble that echoed through the tunnel. Braun dropped the box, staring down at the now rapidly spreading stain on his shirt. For a moment he looked almost comically confused, then he fell.

  Jessie managed to move her head, her rapidly fading eyesight searching for David, and then he was there, his hands on hers, his mouth moving in a silent plea for her to live. She tried to smile, but her muscles were frozen. The regeneration had begun. One minute they were standing in the tunnel and then everything was gone— lost in a cloudy haze of black.

  Chapter Ten

  The air was thick with dust, the particles filling David’s nose and mouth. The lights flickered once and then again, as if they, too, were fighting for life. The tunnel ceiling had collapsed under the barrage of bullets, the resulting cave-in burying everything in its wake.

  "Jessie, can you hear me?" He knew she had to be nearby, but he couldn’t see her. "Jessie?"

  From his vantage point by the wall, he could see Braun’s body crumpled a few feet away. And beneath the fall of rock, the feet of one of the bodyguards. There was no sign of the other man. But David knew that he was dead.

  "Jessie?" he called again, pushing to his feet, searching the rubble as he moved. A
nd then he saw her, thrown against the wall, blood spattered across her shirt, her hands splayed out as if she’d been trying to stop the bullets.

  He dropped down beside her, cradling her head on his lap, moving his fingers to her neck—trying to find the carotid artery and some sign of life.

  There was nothing.

  His heart pounded with each intake of breath, his mind leaping to conclusions he wasn’t ready to face. She couldn’t be dead. It just wasn’t an option he would allow himself to consider.

  Again, he felt for a pulse, this time trying both wrists as well as the arteries in her neck. The result was the same.

  Jessie was dead.

  Pain shot through him, hot and heavy, crescendoing with his rage. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Dear God, not now. He hadn’t even told her that he loved her. Hell, he hadn’t even admitted the fact to himself.

  And now it was too late.

  He pulled off his jacket, carefully placing it under her head. Even in death she was beautiful. He leaned back against the hard rock wall, his mind filled with self-loathing. He’d failed Jessie as surely as he’d failed Jason.

  He’d gotten his vengeance, but at what cost?

  Across the way, as if mocking him, the Protector gleamed in the dust-filled light. Fighting against a surge of emotion that threatened to devour him, he pushed to his feet and stumbled across the tunnel. If not for the damned box, Jessie and Jason would both be alive.

  He picked it up, surprised at how heavy it was. The jeweled corners winked as he turned it so that he could see the seal. The Seventh Seal. If the stories were accurate, all he had to do was open the box and chaos would rule. The End Days coming in a swath of evil and darkness.

  It was heady to hold so much power.

  Maybe he’d just open the box. It wasn’t as if he had anything to lose.

  "David, put it down."

  He spun around, his heart threatening to break through his skin. "Jessie ..." He trailed off, unable to find words. She was standing in front of him, very much alive, her eyes dark with worry. "Please put it down. You don’t want to do that."

  He frowned, his mind spinning as he watched her. "How did you know I was going to open it?"

  "Because I know you. And because I could feel your rage."

  "I thought you were dead," he whispered, dropping the box, crossing the room in one stride to pull her into his arms. He stroked her hair, kissing her eyes and mouth, savoring the feel of her skin against his. For a moment she returned his kiss, her urgency matching his, and then she pulled away, her eyes troubled.

  He stepped back, his gaze falling to the dark blood still staining her shirt. "You didn’t have a pulse."

  "I know." Something in her tone made him certain he wasn’t going to like what she had to say next.

  She sighed and lifted her shirt to reveal the smooth unmarred skin of her belly.

  At first he was confused, trying to grasp what it was she wanted him to see. Then, in a flash, understanding hit like lightning. There were no entry wounds. Her shirt was stained with blood, but her body was unblemished.

  "I wasn’t dead, David. I was regenerating."

  "What the hell are you saying?" He held out his hands, as if in doing so somehow he could avoid the answer.

  "I’m immortal. I can’t die."

  "But I saw you. I held you. There was no breath."

  "When something catastrophic happens to my body, it heals itself. The worse the injury the longer it takes to heal. And sometimes, I can appear to be—"

  "Dead," he said, using the word like a shield.

  "Yes."

  "Why didn’t you tell me?" His mind tumbled in on itself as he tried to make sense of what she was saying.

  "It’s not something I usually bring up in casual conversation."

  "Well, I’m not a casual contact. I’m ..." He trailed off again, anger robbing him of words.

  "—your lover?" she finished for him, disappointment flickering in her eyes. "And if I’d told you?"

  "I’d have dealt with it."

  "Like hell," she spat. "You’d have run for the hills. You couldn’t handle our relationship when you thought I was normal. I can’t even begin to think how you’d have dealt with it if you’d known who I really am."

  "Well, we’ll never know what I’d have done, will we? You didn’t give me the chance."

  They stood for a moment glaring at each other, and then with a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. "So what happens now? Best I can tell we’re trapped. I blew up the Azure side, and now our little shoot-out has blown the other." He waved a hand in the direction of the cave-in. "So does that mean you’re here forever?"

  She looked away, clearly debating the answer.

  "Jessie, this isn’t the time to gloss over the facts." He watched as she considered his words.

  "Fine." She blew out a breath and leaned back against the wall. She might be immortal but just at the moment she looked vulnerable as hell. It was all he could do to keep from rushing to hold her. But he needed the distance. "If we’re truly trapped here, someone will find me."

  "Faust." He said the man’s name, truth dawning. "I take it he’s an immortal, too?"

  "Yes." She shrugged, the gesture seeming inappropriate in light of the circumstances. "And if Faust doesn’t find me, then my father will."

  "Your father is immortal as well?"

  "In a different kind of way."

  "And your mother?"

  "Very mortal. She died when I was a kid."

  "And that was ..." he looked at her askance, then changed his mind. "Never mind. Don’t tell me."

  "Suffice it to say it was a long time ago." She pushed away from the wall. "Look, I realize this is a lot to handle. And I also realize that in light of my... condition, you probably don’t want anything more to do with me, but for the moment I’m all you’ve got. So maybe we should see what we can do to get you out of here."

  "In case the rescue party comes too late?" He couldn’t stop the bitterness that colored his voice. He’d fallen in love with a woman who wasn’t even human.

  "I’m real, David. Just as real as you are. I just have a longer life span than most."

  "So—what?" he growled. "You can read minds, too?"

  "Sometimes," she admitted. "When I really want to."

  He stood for a minute fighting his rioting emotions, not certain what he was supposed to be feeling. But in truth, despite her amazing pronouncement, all he wanted to do was hold her. To reassure himself that she was in fact alive. "That’s why you’re so good with passwords and information?"

  "Yeah. I can find things sometimes. If I concentrate long enough. But it isn’t always a sure thing. Sort of like finding the needle in the haystack. Only I’m using my mind to find it."

  "And you got this talent from your father? You said he was immortal, too."

  She grimaced, staring down at her hands, then looked up, her expression deceptively calm. "My father is the devil."

  If she’d flummoxed him before, she’d managed to gobsmack him now. "The devil," he repeated, as if by framing the words he could comprehend the enormity of what she was saying.

  "Beelzebub, Azazel, Satan ... he goes by a lot of names."

  "Your father." He seemed to have been reduced to two-word sentences.

  "Yes." She waited, chewing on her bottom lip. He recognized the gesture, a sign of insecurity, and wondered how many people had rejected her when they’d discovered who she really was. How often she’d been persecuted. Left all alone.

  He could see it in her eyes. The reflection of a pain she worked so hard to hide beneath barriers she’d spent centuries building. For reasons he couldn’t possibly fathom, she’d let him in. Opened herself to him, knowing what would eventually happen. Beyond the bravado, he saw the real Jessie—the woman he loved.

  And suddenly, he didn’t care who the hell her father was. Or what her life expectancy might be. Those were problems they could deal with together. He reached out to take
her hands, both of them cold as ice. "It’s a lot to swallow, Jessie. But right now all that matters is that we’re alive and we’re together. The rest we’ll figure out as we go along."

  They stood for a moment, linked by so much more than their hands.

  "All right." She nodded, her eyes still full of doubt.

  "If it helps at all, my father was a real son of a bitch."

  Her smile was a lopsided effort, but at least the doubt faded. He leaned forward to give her a kiss, a covenant of sorts. "Now, what do you say we get the hell out of here?"

  *****

  "We’re not going to get out this way," Jessie said, tossing the rock she held into the growing pile behind them. "For every one we’re pulling out, three more replace it." As if to emphasize the truth of her words, another tumble of rock filled the void she’d just created. "This isn’t working."

  "Well," David said, tossing another rock aside, "I, for one, don’t like the idea of spending my last few hours watching you get locked in this hellhole—no pun intended—for eternity. There’s got to be another way out."

  "We studied the blueprints, and I don’t remember there being anything."

  "If nothing else, there’s got to be a ventilation shaft of some kind. The air still smells fresh. And there’s a definite air current. Look at the dust." He waved his hand at the cloud that had risen when he dropped the rock. Sure enough, it was swirling as if caught in an invisible breeze.

  "It could just be us moving around." She hated to be a spoilsport, but it was a credible explanation.

  "Trust me," David said, "it’s here somewhere. This hill is littered with caves. That’s probably what gave them the idea for the tunnel in the first place. So if we’re lucky the ventilation shaft will be some kind of natural chimney. One that we can navigate."

  She picked up the remaining flashlight and turned it toward the ceiling, the soft white glow enhancing the rapidly dimming light-bulbs. She ran the beam as far as she could, the illuminated ceiling looked frustratingly solid.

  "Come on. It’s got to be here, we’ve just got to keep looking." David took the flashlight and started down the tunnel. "Bring the box."