… And fell on top of Christian.
“Gurk!” He grunted as the monster’s now-dead weight bore down on him, aggravating his injuries even more, sending lances of agony tearing across his chest. It felt like his ribcage was being crushed. To make matters worse, the hilt of his sword was jabbing painfully into his stomach, making him increasingly uncomfortable.
He struggled to push the beast’s corpse off. It took far more effort than it should have, but he eventually rolled the bleeding corpse onto the grass by his side. He then gulped in deep several breaths of air, even though each breath felt like a hot poker stabbing his lungs.
Lying on his back, Christian felt too tired and sore to move. Everything hurt; his chest felt like it had been compressed in a trash compactor, and his leaden limbs shook with exhaustion. His head was pounding and his ears were ringing. It had been a long time since he’d felt this awful. He’d not felt this much pain since earning his title of Christian the Quadra.
He wondered what Lilith would think if she knew that he had the same title as her favorite light novel character. She would probably get a kick out of it.
Knowing that his body had reached its limit, Christian decided to just get some rest right there. An hour or two of rest wouldn’t hurt anything. After he rested, he would burn the werewolf’s corpse.
There wasn’t much he could do about the blood splatters. Those would have to stay. He just hoped the Church would be able to deal with the media. He didn’t doubt that they would find out that something happened here, and Christian had no desire to deal with the aftermath of an unaccountable werewolf attack happening in a city where no werewolf should have been in the first place.
Chapter 12
“Are you certain this is accurate?”Samantha’s narrowed eyes gazed at the man standing before her. She waved a sheet of paper in her hand. Her voice was tinged with a sense of urgency and unease.
“Yes, everything is one hundred percent true. I triple-checked this information myself,” Tristin told her. “There has been an increase in disappearances across the US for the past two months, and California was hit with two dozen disappearances just two days ago. Most of them are girls in their late teens to early twenties. If you look closely enough, you’ll see that all the disappearances are creating a trail of sorts.”
“A trail leading directly to Seal Beach,” Samantha finished, her lips pursed. “Has Intelligence been able to figure out what’s causing these disappearances?”
Tristin shook his head. “No, but we have been able to determine that none of them are from mundane causes, nor are they runaway cases.”
“So what you’re basically telling me is that something supernatural is killing people, and we don’t have the slightest clue as to what.” Samantha tried not to let her frustration show, but it was hard. So much about this situation was worrying. What kind of monster was killing these people? And why did it appear to be heading toward Seal Beach?
“Have you informed Christian about this?” Samantha placed her forearms against the desk and leaned forward to fix Tristin with a look. “If there is something dangerous heading his way, then it is imperative that we let him know as soon as possible, regardless of whether we know what it is or not.”
“I haven’t had a chance to inform him yet,” Tristin admitted. “I was going to tell him immediately after informing you of my findings.”
“I see.” Samantha watched in minor satisfaction as her glare made Tristin shudder. He should have known how important it was to let Christian know of this danger first. If her subordinate was hurt because of him, then she would make sure to let her displeasure fully known. “I suggest you call him as soon as possible then.”
“R-right.” Tristin breathed sigh of relief as the intensity in Samantha’s eyes lessened. “I’ll do that once I’m―”
His cell phone chose that moment to ring. He looked down at the phone attached to his belt, which was playing “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC. He then looked at Samantha, who had raised a single, delicate eyebrow, as if asking, “Why the hell is your cell phone ringing?”
“I was caught, in the middle of a railroad track!” the ring tone proclaimed.
“It’s Christian,” he told her.
“I looked around, and I knew there was no turning back!”
The eyebrow rose some more. “How can you tell?”
“My mind raced, and I thought, what could I do!”
“He’s the only one who I gave that ringtone to.”
“And I knew, there was no help, no help from you!”
“Uh-huh,” Samantha said before falling silent.
“Sound of the drums! Beating in my heart! The thunder of guns, tore me apart!”
After several seconds in which nothing happened and no one moved, the woman frowned and spoke again. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“You’ve been thunderstruck!”
“I… didn’t think I was allowed to answer it while in a debriefing.” Tristin scratched the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly when Samantha rolled her eyes.
“I give you permission to answer that call.”
“Right.” Tristin reached for his phone and pulled it out of its holder. He pressed a button on the touchscreen and then held it to his ear. “This is your friendly neighborhood Intel Agent. If there is any way that I can be of assistance, please do not hesitate to let me know. I shall do all in my power to provide you with the most accurate intel available.”
Samantha’s right eyebrow twitched. She gave no other indication of her annoyance, and instead simply watched as Tristin’s eyes lit up in a way that thoroughly disturbed her.
“What do you mean you were attacked by a werewolf?” asked a startled Tristin. Samantha’s eyes widened. Christian had been attacked by a werewolf? At Seal Beach? But there hadn’t been any reports of a werewolf living there! What was going on?
She almost leaned forward to see if she could pick up any more of the conversation. Almost. It would have been undignified of her to try and listen in on a conversation like some kind of gossip, but it was a near thing.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t take your anger out on me,” Tristin protested. “I had no clue there was a werewolf there. None of the reports I had on hand mentioned anything about a werewolf.”
There was a pause while Tristin listened to the other end.
“Okay, just calm down. Now, explain to me what happened, slowly this time.” Tristin’s grim expression grew more pronounced the longer he listened. Samantha clicked her teeth. “So he was after your target? That’s not unusual. Human women are often raped by werewolves, though I’ve never heard of one wanting a succubus before… well, yes, if the girl actually turns out to be a succubus… no, I haven’t had a chance to look into it. Hey now, don’t get snappy with me. I’ve been busy.”
As Christian spoke again, Samantha tried piecing together what they were talking about from Tristin’s words. She wasn’t successful. The only thing she knew was that it had something to do with Christian’s target.
Once Tristin is finished speaking, I believe he and I are going to have a long conversation about keeping information hidden from his superior.
“I’ve been busy dealing with a possible problem that’s heading your way is what,” Tristin said into the phone. “Listen, there’s been a string of disappearances lately. Yes, yes, I know that’s not unusual in and of itself and―would you let me finish! ―right, so anyway, these disappearances form a trail leading to Seal Beach. Whatever is causing these people to vanish is coming your way.”
Tristin stopped talking for a moment, and then shook his head, causing his blond hair to sway.
“Yeah, we can send more munitions and equipment. With everything that’s going down right now, you’re going to want to be loaded with as much firepower as we can give you… right. I’ll see to it that you get some supplies. They should come some time tomorrow morning. Okay. Yeah, you too.”
With a sigh, Tristin ended the call a
nd put the phone back in his holder. Samantha raised an eyebrow.
“Well?”
Tristin scratched the back of his neck.
“So, as you probably just heard, Christian was attacked by a werewolf. He killed the thing, no surprises there, but got pretty banged up in the process. He’s asking for some extra supplies: ammo, flashbangs, smoke grenades, and the like. Oh! And he wants some knives that he can hide on his person in public.”
“Very well,” Samantha said without giving it much thought. It was a reasonable request, given what had happened. “See to it that he gets everything he asked for, and also make sure to include some of our medical supplies in there; the Science Division just came up with a new healing cream that’s far more advanced than anything else we have. It should work wonders on his injuries. I’ll also send one of our doctors there to help apply it.”
“Got it, anything else you want me to do?”
“Not at the moment.” Samantha shook her head, but then remembered something. “What was that thing you and he were talking about? You mentioned how you were looking into something for him.”
Tristin rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.
“That? Christian doesn’t believe that Lilith girl is a succubus. She’s apparently got a serious case of androphobia. Can’t stand being in the same room as a guy, and runs away in fright whenever she bumps into one.”
Samantha felt pensive. An unsettling feeling wormed into her gut.
“That doesn’t sound right. Succubi are creatures of lust and sex. They live to feed off men through primal acts of passion. Just like a vampire can’t live without blood, a succubus can’t live without sex. For a creature like that to be afraid of men… it’s unheard of.”
“Those were his thoughts, too.”
Samantha closed her eyes, contemplating this new piece of information. There was a lot wrong with this mission, and it seemed there was even more wrong than she initially suspected. The Catholic Church requesting Christian be sent on this mission. Bishop Virtrous’ words. A succubus who might not be a succubus. And a threat possibly heading to Seal Beach. Were these all connected somehow?
“Tristin.”
“Ma’am?”
“It seems there are several large gaps in our intelligence that cannot be allowed to go uncorrected.” Something was going on here. Samantha didn’t know what, but the entire situation was starting to smell rotten.
“Commander?”
“I want you to work more closely with Christian and ensure that nothing happens to him on his mission,” Samantha continued. “See to it that he is constantly given the most up-to-date information regularly. I also want you to pull up everything you can on Lilith Vie. If that girl really is a human, then we need to know.”
Samantha grimaced when Tristin’s eyes lit up at the prospect of working more closely with Christian. It disturbed her, those sparkling eyes that gleamed with childish joy.
If only I knew someone who was willing to help Christian with the same zeal as this man, but without the disturbing fascination.
There was something seriously wrong with Tristin—and she didn’t just mean his larger than average libido. His unhealthy interest in her favorite subordinate bothered her.
“Your will be done!” Tristin said with so much fervor that Samantha almost rescinded her order. The blond pretty boy placed a hand over his heart and bowed before her. He then straightened up, spun on his heel, and walked out of the door, whistling a jaunty tune. Samantha watched the door close, feeling even more pensive than she had at the start of the debriefing.
“I’m pretty sure that I just made Christian’s life a thousand times more difficult,” she said before going back to her paperwork.
Chapter 13
The walk home was long and arduous. Christian’s hotel was less than fifteen miles from the park, yet it took him nearly two hours to arrive there.
His body ached in ways that it rarely had before. All of his muscles felt like they had been put through a meat grinder. His bones felt brittle, as if even the most minute of movements would cause them to snap. Just walking was a chore.
When he finally arrived at his hotel, he avoided going through the front door. His clothes were torn and covered in blood. Entering through the lobby would be a terrible idea. He could just imagine the front desk clerk freaking out and calling the cops. Christian didn’t want to deal with whatever problems would arise from that happening.
A fire escape on the west side of the building provided him with the means of entering his room. If he thought walking hurt, then climbing up the ladder felt like someone trying to tear his arms off with iron prongs that had been dipped in molten lava. Even after making it onto the roof, he still had a hell of a time getting into his room. It took far more effort than it should have to climb down the other side of the building and lower himself through the window.
Grunting, Christian slipped just as he slid through the window. He hit the floor with a loud crash, groaning as his face scraped against the carpet. That was definitely going to leave a rash come tomorrow morning.
“Hey! Keep it down up there! Some of us are trying to sleep!”
Christian ignored the shouting. It wasn’t important, though he did take some consolation from the yell. It meant that, if nothing else, the werewolf had been smart enough to avoid the other people staying at this hotel. It had probably snuck in through a window in the hallway to avoid being seen. Most of the other residents likely assumed the loud crashing was one of the guests getting angry and smashing a fist against a door.
A glance at the door confirmed this. It was still intact, if a little dented. He was honestly surprised the door was still closed.
Even monsters like werewolves were smart enough to realize that letting regular humans know of their existence was a bad idea. With humanity being the most prevalent species on the planet, they had an advantage over any supernatural force, be they vampire, werewolf, succubus, or mermaid—in numbers if nothing else.
And that wasn’t even going into the new weapons that were constantly being developed. Few, if any, supernatural creatures could survive having a nuclear bomb dropped on them, barring maybe an Ancestor or one of the Seven Demon Lords.
Placing his hands on either side of his body, Christian tried to push himself to his feet. His teeth gritted and his muscles strained. His limbs shook with exhaustion and pained spasms, yet he continued pushing. If he could just stand up, then he could crawl into bed and get some sleep.
A second later, he yelped, his arms giving out and his face slamming into the floor for the second time that night. There was some more yelling from the person below him, but he ignored it. It seemed he had pushed his body too hard. His muscles were no longer responding to his commands.
He chided himself for getting so complacent; if he had just kept some of his weapons on his person at all times, this wouldn’t have happened. The next time he went out, he was bringing at least one of his main weapons. That werewolf wouldn’t have stood a chance if he’d had even just one of his swords. The battle would have been over the moment it began.
He wouldn’t be able to carry a sword, though, as that would be too conspicuous. But, if Tristin came through and procured some silver knives as he had asked, then he would at least have a means of defending himself from supernatural attacks.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. There was no use cursing himself over what had happened. He couldn’t change the past. All he could do was take the lesson this experience taught him to heart, and not make the same mistake again.
Christian’s breathing evened out, and he soon enough fell asleep on the floor of his hotel room.
***
Christian awoke from his dream of flames and burning bodies to the sound of knocking. He was so startled by the abrupt wake-up call that his body jumped from asleep to awake in seconds. In the process of doing this, he sat up far too quickly for his body’s taste, and it had no trouble letting him know that.
A hiss
of pain escaped his mouth, air whistling through gritted teeth. While his body didn’t feel the sharp, overwhelming pain like yesterday, it still hurt. A dull ache had spread throughout his body, permeating his cells, and letting him know just how hard he had pushed himself the previous night.
The knocking persisted, and Christian thought about ignoring it and trying to get some more sleep. According to the view outside his window, it wasn’t even morning yet. The sun had yet to rise, and the stars and moon were still out. Yet as the knocking continued, growing more insistent by the second, he knew that sleep would not be returning.
“Hang on,” he called out, his throat dry and hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it in months. Was this strange dryness of mouth what some of the Executioners referred to as cottonmouth? What an unpleasant sensation. “I’m coming!”
His body groaning in complaint, Christian gingerly rose to his feet and stumbled to the door. He carefully peered through the small peephole to see who was knocking, only to be met with a pair of green eyes.
“Christian, you had better open this door right this minute!”
Fear overriding pain, Christian swung the door open hastily. Standing on the other side was a woman who appeared to be in the prime of her life. She had long, straight blond hair and green eyes. A black knee-length skirt covered her legs, and a long white overcoat was worn over her white t-shirt. On her feet were a pair of tan heels that added an extra inch to her height.
“D-Dr. Adams,” Christian stuttered. His heartbeat accelerated as adrenaline began pumping through his body. He should have realized that Samantha would send a doctor to see how he was doing, but why-oh-why did his commander have to send her of all people?
Anastasia Adams was a member of the Executioner’s Medical Division. She helped members of the Warrior caste heal after they were injured. She was also Christian’s personal physician, having taken it upon herself to heal whatever injuries he suffered after every mission, ever since his battle with Abaddon the Destroyer. At the moment, Dr. Adams was wearing her patented “I am so amazed by your stupidity that it is only this smile that is holding me back from coming over there and beating the aforementioned stupidity out of you” smile.
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