Claire, instead of running faster, stopped cold. She slowly turned around, ignoring the bullets hammering into her body, and I let out a sigh of relief. Eae had gotten her bracelet back like I’d asked. I glanced up at him and caught the vaguest of nods before he refocused on the Shepherds with a sickly look on his face.
I felt that. I’d asked him, essentially, to do this to his people. Claire calmly walked up and grabbed the SHIT with the shotgun by the chest and hurled him into a fountain across the street from the church, flushing the little turd.
No one shot any more bullets at her as she calmly loped towards me and settled down on her haunches at my side. She was matted with blood, but I saw the band wrapped around her paw and let out a sigh of relief. Bears could take a licking and keep on ticking, so there had been the chance that she’d take the bullets without having her bracelet from Darling and Dear—the one that made her bulletproof.
I was just thankful she’d been fast enough to get away before anyone decided to try magic or an electric net—which I was keeping a close eye out for.
She pressed up against me with her shoulder, settling down on all fours and tucking her ears back as she let out a great bellowing roar, saliva stretching from her massive fangs.
Then she glanced back casually, looking past my shoulder, and her tongue rolled out of her mouth like a panting dog.
I turned to see Cain walking up to me, as healthy as I’d ever seen, but decorated here and there with blood. From the blood dripping from his dagger, I knew it wasn’t his.
“You two just standing around as usual?” he asked. I grinned, squeezing his arm before I turned back to the two camps of very pissed off monsters.
It was time to show everyone what they’d gotten themselves into.
Paradise and Lost gasped incredulously to see Cain at my side, their eyes instantly darting to where they’d last seen Alucard.
But his unconscious body was suspiciously missing, gosh darn it.
I stepped forward, Cain and Claire flanking me with blade and claw. “Know the shadows of Hell! They are mine to command!” I crowed. Paradise and Lost looked horrified, and spun to their surviving wolves, shouting commands. I was surprised the two women hadn’t wolfed out by now. What did that mean?
The church doors finally began to open, and a tide of vampires rolled out.
Unfortunately, everyone chose that moment to run towards the center and duke it out rather than letting the unseen shadows continue to kill them. Upon seeing this great flush of vampires—and maybe encouraged by my successes so far, many of the Hellfire wenches began hurling glass jars upon the wolves and vampires, deciding they’d had enough of the current state of affairs in Kansas City.
Which was great. Really. Me, inspiring all these angry witches to team up and fight Roland’s army. Any other time it would have brought a tear of pride to my eyes.
Except tonight, that just meant the Shepherds didn’t have to try as hard to go after the vampires and wolves. It meant a few of them had time to focus on me.
I saw Fabrizio storming my way, a dark gleam in his eyes, as well as Arthur who looked as if I’d just run over his dog. Oh, and the church doors closed, too. That part had been cool. I hadn’t stood a chance at getting there before they’d closed anyway—not through the three armies slamming into each other less than twenty feet away from me.
Simply put, it was pure, unadulterated chaos.
More clouds of smoke erupted everywhere, and ninjas appeared in their wake, slaughtering anyone with red eyes and only harming others if they accidentally pointed something sharp in my general direction. I saw many ninjas go down, but not as many as their foes. They even died in silence, for the most part. The surviving ninjas didn’t confront Fabrizio or Arthur, though. Those two just kept chugging my way.
The little holy engines that could.
I turned to Claire and Cain, pointing out Paradise and Lost. They looked like they were trying to regroup their wolves and either flank someone, flee, or escape to the church. “Catch, don’t kill. Not yet. Roland might sense their deaths, and who knows what that would do to the ritual,” I urged, pointing up at the beam of light.
Cain turned to Claire excitedly. “I’ve wanted to ride you for a while now, Claire—” He danced back from the sudden swipe of her massive paw, obviously having anticipated her reaction. “Fine. Maybe next time,” he said, chuckling good-naturedly. She made a chuffing sound that translated to, they will never find your body, and he seemed to find that even funnier.
Then they took off at a dead run, pursuing Paradise and Lost.
Rather than square off against the two Shepherds—because I didn’t want to kill my friends—I saw an opening in the battle and took it. I needed to get closer to the church. If Roland wasn’t coming out, then I had to find a way in. Fabrizio shouted something at my back, but I ignored him as I slipped through a trio of red-eyed vampires, opening their bellies with my katana as I politely said, “Excuse me.”
Because we’re courteous in the Midwest.
As disappointed and frustrated as I was with the Shepherds, they didn’t deserve to die.
And a direct fight with them would only end in death, because they saw a demon, so would try their hardest to separate my head from my shoulders.
Right about now would have been a good time to get rid of the Demonskin I had placed over myself in the alley—at least according to Richard. If only I knew how. Thinking of Richard, why hadn’t he shown up? Had I not been in enough danger yet?
I heard Fabrizio and Arthur hurling magic and blades at the knot of fighting behind me, so I poured on the speed to increase my lead. I flung out my hand at a pack of five wolves and silver spears as tall as I was erupted from the ground, impaling them at head-level. I was careful to steer clear of their claws and jaws as I slipped past, reminding myself that they were bad.
Unfortunately, a small part of me was more honest. They were gullible…
Not having any time for facts in the reality I currently orbited, I forced down the thought.
I blasted fire and air, hurled silver spears, used my katana to carve out an opening or slice tendons, each step bringing me closer to the church. Closer to the real fight. I just hoped that crimson beam of rotating light didn’t mean Roland had already completed his ritual.
Chapter 55
I finally broke through the insanity and into a relatively open space. Apart from all the dead bodies, anyway. I kept jogging, just to make sure I didn’t attract attention from those on the outskirts of the fighting.
I turned back to assess the field of battle, wincing as jars of witches brew shattered and splashed here and there, usually resulting in such perversely horrifying reactions that I knew I would never be able to forget them.
One memorable one was a werewolf doused with purple goop suddenly realizing he had tentacles for legs. I watched him scramble all over the place for a good ten seconds, my brain momentarily shutting down. I snapped out of it when Fabrizio appeared out of the mob to stab him in the throat. I don’t know if it was me or the werewolf who looked most relieved.
But Fabrizio was staring at me as he did it.
Arthur was nowhere in sight, thankfully, but I still didn’t want to fight Fabrizio. Because I didn’t want to kill him. And I needed my energy for Roland. I reached into my pocket to grab my Horseman Mask of Despair, but I was surprised to feel the Crucifix necklace I’d found inside the Doors also in the same pocket. The one that had belonged to Anthony, an old friend of Fabrizio. A brother, he had said.
I pulled them both out, allowing the Crucifix to hang in my hand between us, swinging back and forth like I was hoping to hypnotize the First Shepherd.
Which…it kind of did. Fabrizio slowed, frowning. I lobbed it to him in a way that indicated zero threat, and then I slapped on my Horseman Mask, my heart racing with concern over what it might feel like. What might happen next.
I hadn’t expected the sensation of a thousand sticky fingers latching onto my f
ace to hold it close to my skin so that it wouldn’t fall.
I also hadn’t expected it to come with default Silvers vision.
Everything abruptly slowed, and I gasped as the whole battle stood before me like a painted portrait. Fabrizio stood at the forefront of the masterpiece like a man reaching out for help, his face blank with shock as the crucifix necklace slowly closed the distance to his hand—only inches away now.
I saw Alucard blasting the courtyard with sunshine, a ring of vampires flying outwards in slow motion, crumbling to ash even as they flew.
I saw Xuanwu and his ninjas killing red-eyes without ever being seen—for the most part. Some of the ninjas went down, but not very many. Xuanwu never even came close to being sensed. And Ryuu stood at his side, grinning savagely as his katana erupted out of a red-eyed vampire’s back.
I couldn’t wait to tell Ryuu that I had, in fact, seen him. Smug bastard.
I saw Cain and Claire apart from the general mob, squaring off against Paradise and Lost—now finally in wolf form—looking as if they didn’t know or care that any other battle existed behind them.
Dorian Gray and Arthur were nowhere in sight—probably obscured by the hundred other bodies filling the street.
And dozens upon dozens of colorful ribbons whipped back and forth from foe to foe, indicating where attacks would land. I could see it all. And with a little focus, I realized I could speed it back up to the normal flow of time. But I didn’t do that.
I glanced back to see Fabrizio clutching the crucifix necklace and staring at me with awe. I felt a flash of heat on my scalp and I gasped in surprise. He recognized me!
Except he obviously hadn’t noticed Eae sweeping down upon him from behind, like an eagle catching a fish in the water. Eae snatched him up. In slow motion, it looked way worse than it probably was—as if the force had snapped Fabrizio’s neck or at least given him severe whiplash, like in one of those crash test dummy videos. The angel swept his massive wings down to lift the First Shepherd directly over me before looping back to safety.
It was incredibly beautiful to see in slow motion.
And it totally killed the reunion we’d almost had.
With a sigh, I turned back to face the church, studying the ward from this entirely different perspective—the Silvers—as I reached into my other pocket.
To give me momentary reprieve, I flung up my second butterfly charm, the one Nate had given me, and Silver butterflays exploded into the night in a swarm of razor-sharp wings and incredible speed, keeping the area around me relatively clear from shifter and vampire.
Up close, the red mist surrounding the church seemed thicker—but that was probably because it wasn’t shifting and moving as fast as real time. It also felt…alive. I couldn’t explain why, but I knew I wasn’t wrong. It was insanely powerful.
I remembered Ryuu’s message from Xuanwu from earlier and found myself repeating it as I stared at the entrance to the church. My church.
“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here is a fitting phrase above a locked door,” I murmured. And they had been right. This door did deserve such a warning.
My Mask grew warm against my face, latching onto the thought, seeming to massage my temples in hopes of speeding up my brain power. I didn’t fight it. I accepted it, recalling the peace I had felt at Xuanwu’s home after twelve hours of silence. I tried wrapping that feeling around me, now, meditating with my eyes open.
All Xuanwu’s talk of me being the White Rose…how the vines creeped, and they crawled into the most unwanted of places, crumbling everything in their path…
And the haunted look I’d seen on Xuanwu’s face while watching Claire and Cain tease each other…at the despair threatening to slip through the numerous cracks in the crumbling walls of his will to live—cured only by watching others laugh. A depression he suffered.
How—as strong as Solomon was—he wasn’t stronger than the relentless creeping vines crawling through his body, breaking him apart from within….
And I thought about despair itself. Despair was a mental poison. It seeped through our best defenses, our best days, finding any crack of self-doubt it could expand.
Not entirely understanding what I was doing, I closed my eyes and opened myself up further to the Mask of Despair, allowing it to see my own cracks and weaknesses, my own insecurities and self-doubts. Many I had already vanquished in my trip through the Doors.
But that was the funny thing about confidence.
It could always be broken back down by Despair.
So I shared them all, old and new—not relishing in them, but accepting them fully. That they were the demons in my mind, haunting me and gripping my shoulders, ever-circling me as they waited for their moment to pounce and knock me back down.
But…
They would never keep me down. Because…
I.
Was.
Despair.
I would always get back up. Even if it was only to die by my enemy’s blade. Because it was worse to die a coward and give in. Even in those darkest moments when the world threatens to gobble you up and there is no hope…
You.
Must.
Stand.
It’s the only way to beat despair. To lie to yourself with false hopes.
Because guess what?
That’s what despair was doing to you. Always whispering, always laughing, always mocking you, always planting negative thoughts—whether true or not—in the fields of your mind. Knowing that you could only take so much before giving in and buying the lies.
The only way to combat that was to lie right back, counteracting the attacks. Balance the self-doubt with self-confidence. Whether false or not, it didn’t matter.
Use their tactics against them. Lie for lie. Self-confidence for self-doubt.
So I did that now. Knowing that no matter what knocked me down, I would always stand back up. Always. No matter how many times I had to rebuild my walls. I would always be ready to lay another brick.
And the Mask grew warmer, and warmer, and warmer against my face. I opened my eyes to see that the world had dimmed faintly, as if made of fog.
Despair was like mist, able to slip through the smallest crack in existence, and it could only be defeated by the sun’s light—by the concrete knowledge that the sun would always rise again tomorrow and burn it away.
So as invincible as the mist—despair—was…
It was just as invincible as the sunlight—hope—was…
The two battling back and forth for eternity, each fearing the other’s seemingly immortal, invincible power, but never ceasing their war.
I glanced down at my hands and smiled maliciously.
I wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see that I was now a cloud of mist, no longer flesh.
The dark cloud of Despair laughed as it drifted through the red haze surrounding the church, shifting and realigning its particles to slip past the strongest of wards.
I found myself inside the church within moments and noticed a repetitive chime.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
I felt the Mask of Despair struggling against me as my form solidified again, leaving me to stand inside the church, blinking rapidly. I felt a strange, rattling sensation deep within my soul, and the Mask of Despair evaporated in a puff. I shoved my hand in my pocket eagerly and let out a sigh of relief to find the silver butterfly charm—my Horseman’s Mask—resting within. It…seemed exhausted.
Ding. Ding—
The sound cut off abruptly and I spotted a necklace sitting on a nearby pedestal. It was the necklace Alucard had told me about—the one that sensed demons. And…it had just stopped.
I looked up to follow a long red carpet leading to the altar to reveal a table and two men standing before me. Henri and Roland. They looked like they’d just crapped their pants. Maybe that was because I still had my katana on me.
I silently commanded the Silver butterflays outside to guard the door so no red-eyed reinforcements could in
terrupt our reunion.
My smile turned savage as I drew my katana, harnessing my inner Nate Temple. “Ding, ding, chuckleheads. Don’t worry, I’m not here to sell you a vacuum,” I said, flicking my chin at the door behind me that I’d just invaded like a soul-slurping salesman. “I see more than enough suckers here already.”
Roland stared at me incredulously. “Callie…” he breathed.
I nodded coldly. “Did you miss me?” I asked as I slowly advanced in a fighting stance.
Chapter 56
I halted six paces away, studying the scene before me. Henri Bellerose was shaking in terror, standing his ground—probably by command from Roland—and hating every single second of it.
Because he was Roland’s Renfield, now.
Roland stood before a long, antique wooden table. The table held an old book and a large bowl of blood. Blood painted his mouth—exactly like the milk mustache kids get when chugging milk. It dripped down his chin like a macabre goatee. He wore no shirt or shoes, only fitted silk pants. Strange, haunting symbols painted in blood decorated his chest, and I immediately averted my eyes from them as they seemed to spring to life, making me think of the omegabet I had seen in my mother’s laboratory.
Two standing bowls of glowing coals squatted on either side of the table, and dozens of candelabras lined the perimeter of the room as well as the long red carpet, but all the pews had been taken away. The hundreds of tiny flames flickering from the candelabras cast the room in a soothing, spiritual, almost romantic glow. The Silver statue of Nameless stood where it always had, no one daring to attempt moving it since it encased a literal Fallen Angel. Right now, he looked concerned, but that could have been the lighting.
Oh, and there was a huge fucking portal of crimson blood—like a pond but hanging vertical—standing where the altar would have been had this still been a church. It was big enough to drive a car through. I refused to stare into it, afraid of what I might see.
Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 2 Page 87