I felt sucker-punched at the memory. Brady was on a mission in China and couldn’t get back. He had to do his duty. He’d gone to the graveyard many times since, and it wasn’t uncommon to see Brady return with reddened eyes, but…
“I see now how much both of you have truly felt for me,” he said. “And you condemned me to a life in hell!”
How had we done that? Was it because we didn’t give him the chance to repent? Why? What could we have done?
“No matter,” he said, and now my grip around my guns was getting tighter, but I couldn’t find it within me to raise them. “You will now join me in the depths of hell itself. But I will not kill you here, no. I will wound you and leave you to the demons who came after me.”
With that, he raised his hand, and a massive blast of green energy fired, incinerating the wall behind me. I barely managed to dodge the attack, rolling to the side just before it hit me. Brady fired at Paul, but Paul teleported to the side, laughing maniacally.
“Isn’t it funny and sad? Today’s ally becomes tomorrow’s enemy,” he taunted us. “Brady, you were once my brother in the field. Now you’re trying to shoot me, send me back to the place that I reside in for eternity. And Sonya, you were once my most devoted disciple. And now you’ve become a Judas to me.”
“I was scared!” I yelled, and suddenly, Paul stopped. “I know I did wrong. I still haven’t forgiven myself for it, Paul. I think about your death nearly every day. It pains me to think about how much of a coward I was. I will never forgive myself.”
Paul looked like he was seriously contemplating the words, but then grinned and gave an evil laugh.
“Then you will accept the punishment that comes for your sins!”
Again, another blast came, but this time, Brady’s aim was true, and one of his blasts hit Paul in the right arm.
“You!”
Brady quickly ran over and cast a weak portal spell. Before I could argue the point, he pushed me through it, and I collapsed on the porch.
“Brady!” I screamed.
I turned back but the portal had vanished. Whatever Brady’s fate was, I would not know it for some time.
“Brady!!”
The door swung open. DJ lifted my limp body and carried me inside. Richard and Nicholas sat on the couch, comforting Sarah and Caitlin, but I didn’t care. No, I had failed again.
“Brady…”
But he was gone. He was trapped on the other side of the portal, and I had no way to help him. For all I knew, Paul had transported us to a special place in hell before attacking both of us.
Exhaustion caught up to me. The emotion of the night, the pleasant, spine-tingling highs, and the dark, horrifying lows all crashed on me at once. I crumpled in DJ’s arms, tears welling in my eyes, as I weakly hung onto Ebony and Ivory. DJ carried me upstairs, no one saying a word as he placed me in bed. He cuddled up when I asked him to stay, needing someone with me through the night, the worst possible time in the human realm.
He held me through the night, not saying a word, giving the only kind of comfort I could accept without hysterically breaking into tears.
Chapter 6
I didn’t sleep at all that night. The few moments in which my eyes closed and I slowly began to fade were suddenly interrupted by the screaming I’d heard in the darkness, the true memories of what had happened to Paul Stephens, and the terrifying thoughts of what Brady faced on the other side. After my initial burst of tears, I hadn’t cried the rest of the night, but I didn’t feel anything other than crippling sadness.
When the sun rose, just the idea of getting out of bed seemed like a struggle. Just moving DJ’s arms felt like a task that I couldn’t do, even though I appreciated his presence more than he could ever know. Just grabbing my phone to check the time seemed like it wasn’t worth it.
But as the sun came into the room and DJ began to stir, slowly, steadily, I regained control of my emotions, the recovery like a glass of water tipped at the exact angle necessary to allow drainage.
And when I had gained control, I saw what had happened in a new light.
Paul Stephens had died on a mission as a CIA agent, but he did not deserve to go to hell after his death. He had a wife he remained faithful to, a child he stashed money away for, and causes that he remained committed to. The more I thought about the man I had seen last night, the more convinced I became that there was no way Paul had led a life of evil on the side. My gut simply didn’t believe. Instead, hell had taken him away from heaven.
And this made me angry. Absolutely, pissed off, incredibly angry. It was slightly different than my encounter with Nuforsa—that one was compelled by hatred. I obviously didn’t hate Paul. In fact, I loved the guy as much as anyone outside of Brady. If anyone did not deserve to become a demon, it was him.
If this is what Carsis and Tyrus had warned me about, this infuriated me so much I thought I could transform into my demon side in the human realm. I burned with rage when I thought about how Paul’s death had come nearly two years ago—for Mundus to have captured his soul then, he would’ve planned for this day for years.
If he had captured Paul’s soul, that could not have been the only soul Mundus captured. How could Yevon and heaven not react to hell snatching angels from their domain?!?
I cursed loudly in bed, ignoring DJ as he murmured something in his half-awake state. I had to get to Carsis. I had to talk to him immediately. If anyone knew, it was a Power who could shift between the realms easily without facing the wrath of demons.
Whatever fatigue I should have felt from not sleeping at all left me as the fire within my soul burned new fuel. I wanted to run, to train, to fight, to break necks, to turn into a demon. I wanted to train Nicholas and Richard. I wanted to get DJ up, open a portal to the spirit realm, and launch our own guerrilla war. Hell, why not Sarah and Caitlin? They weren’t fighters, but if I could fight… well, I was a lot better trained than them. But we all started somewhere, and the couple knew what hell looked like. Half the battle was facing the enemy and understanding who and what they were.
At 8:55, DJ still had not gotten out of bed. I tossed off the covers and angrily stood. I quickly changed out of my dress and into my usual, ass-kicking look, sliding Ebony and Ivory into their holsters. I walked out the room, pausing only to glance at DJ before I left—I couldn’t even fathom if we’d ever get to culminate what had happened last night, and wouldn’t try to address it as long as Brady was missing. I heard Sarah and Caitlin talking in their room, saying something about how there was no one they felt safer with than DJ and his friends. If they felt that way, good. They didn’t have to feel great while I saw Carsis, they just had to not burn the house down in a bout of insanity.
I stepped out to the porch and raised an arm as the bright light blinded me. My glasses, the type that naturally got darker with more light, dimmed the morning sun.
At precisely 9 a.m., a black BMW rolled up to the house and stopped. It sported tinted windows, but anyone not named Carsis who was dumb enough to park in front of our house the way I looked deserved what was coming. I opened the door and took a seat as I looked at Carsis.
“I know what happened last—”
“Then you better explain how the hell the club that you said you had secured turned into a spawning ground for demons,” I said, not giving a shit if Carsis was offended by my blunt manner.
Carsis pursed his lips and swallowed, shaking his head in frustration.
“Someone on the inside must’ve locked the doors. Someone from the spirit realm. No one from the human realm could’ve done that, it’s a fire hazard. I’m sorry—”
“Sorry’s cute, but sorry won’t bring my brother back, Carsis,” I said. “From here on out, don’t tell me you can do something if you can’t.”
“I—” he said, his voice raised.
But the shade on my glasses had vanished, and he could see the full fury in my eyes. I didn’t have demon eyes, but I had the next best thing as a human—the wrath of a wo
man.
“Understood,” he said.
“Tell me what you know.”
“Perhaps not surprisingly, your brother has been captured by the man, the demon, that you saw last night.”
“Demon,” I said, trying on the word with Paul in my head. It still didn’t fit.
“I’m afraid so, Sonya. What kind of a life that man lived, I cannot say. I am an angel, not Yevon, and cannot know all. But he is a demon, through and through. And this is a demon that will have a greater effect on you than Nuforsa.”
“I’m well aware of that,” I said, hinting at the complete lack of sleep I’d gotten. “I will do whatever it takes to get my brother back. But I want you to tell me what we’re going to do and why we’re going to do it. If you tell me we’re going to train because you said so yesterday—”
“Sonya, I’m not stupid, I know what’s on your mind,” Carsis said. “To answer your question, we need to train today to prepare for rescuing your brother. Happy? I have taught you the basics for opening a portal, but I also need to teach you how to use other magic without getting exhausted. Specifically, how to use your guns.”
“I dunno, Carsis, I was able to charge them yesterday and I was fine,” I said, not caring if I had blown past the lesson plan from Carsis.
“Because you had experience with charging your natural energy state, yes,” Carsis said, clearly expecting my response. “However, there are many types of magic that you can learn which will sap your energy if you are not careful. Magic which, when you go to rescue Brady, will matter tremendously to your success.”
Fine. This shouldn’t take more than a couple hours to learn.
“Just make it quick,” I said curtly.
“It’ll be as quick as it can, but as long as it needs to be.”
I said nothing more.
To distract myself from the anger I felt, I tried to take in the scenery of Berlin. It had a very Los Angeles feel to it, for how spread out and decentralized of a place it was, although maybe Seattle would’ve been more apt with the Space Needle-look-alike building. But my mind was too far down the rabbit hole of Brady. What did Paul actually look like as a demon? Nuforsa had her demon side that she unveiled. DJ became a dragon. Was the demon form of Paul hideous and something that would break the normal mind? Or, because I was almost sure that Paul had led a good life in this realm, maybe his demon side wasn’t as strong as assumed?
That seemed plausible. If not very possible. But planning for a weak demon was a good recipe for winding up chained in front of Mundus.
Carsis parked the BMW on the side of the street by a river with a railing in front of it. I got out silently, double-checking once more for Ebony and Ivory. I followed Carsis around the corner, and a gorgeous church came into view moments later. I recognized the building immediately. Taborkirche.
“So, let’s train,” I said. “I thought you were going to train me.”
“I am. I have to do it someplace where we won’t draw suspicious looks.”
“And walking into a church with two guns and clothing made for combat won’t draw suspicion?”
“Not before 9:30 a.m. on a weekday. Besides, we’re not going to be fighting in the pews.”
Carsis was becoming exasperated. But if he didn’t like it, too bad. I held him responsible for the demon infestation at Berghain.
Then a concern came, one that became obvious when I realized why we’d picked a church to train.
“Won’t there be demons here,” I said, not really a question.
“Sure will, Sonya,” Carsis said.
“And—”
“How else do you think you’re going to learn? I don’t teach a classroom. I teach applicable skills for actual situations.”
Good. At least we can do this right.
It became very clear that the churches in Europe were going to be very, very different than the churches in America. Many of the churches that I’d seen in America, especially in retrospect, looked modern—freshly-laid wooden floors, clean carpet that looked like it was from the 20th century, tiny stained glass windows, and other decor and musical instruments that screamed “modern.”
But if this church was a sign of what was to come, I could perhaps bring myself to be Christian. The floor and building as a whole were made of stone, stained glass adorned nearly every aisle, the building rose a couple hundred feet, paintings adorning the ceiling, and artwork hung in every crevice throughout the side of the church. Even the priest’s altar was far more distant, far more elegant, and far more raised. Even before this new war, I never would’ve seen a church as a place to worship, but from a cultural perspective, it had significant value.
One thing hadn’t changed from American churches, though. I took two steps in, heard my steps echo throughout the entire place, and felt a weird sensation that all eyes, living and dead, were on me, the atheist of a week ago stepping foot into ground where I would be proselytized upon.
“Keep quiet,” Carsis said, his voice a sharp whisper. “You don’t want to attract attention until we can have it. Just because this is a church doesn’t mean it’s all good people. Or spirits.”
I gave a curt nod and followed Carsis, who walked with a confident manner toward the back of the church. We moved toward the altar, and I took note of the three lone people in the pews. They seemed intent on reading the Bibles in front of them, though I noticed one, wearing a black hat and a black suit, had a white piece of paper over his and had his eyes darting. I immediately grew suspicious of this man, but said and did nothing. One demon in a church like this would not cause a lot of problems, and if he did, I’d make short work of him without ever pulling out Ebony and Ivory.
Before we reached the actual altar, though, Carsis veered left, taking me to a side door made of thick wood and a large handle, another thing likely built before the 19th century—or at least designed with such an era in mind. Actually, I thought, this was probably the most modern of churches I would see in Europe, given that bombing in World War II and the divide between East and West Germany had wiped out many of the buildings in this city. I had no idea if this church was among them, but it would make sense to renovate it with as much homage to the Medieval times as possible.
We descended a spiraling staircase, my feet no longer providing the self-conscious echo. We passed through a short door we both had to duck under at the bottom, and then came to what looked like a dead end. Carsis mumbled something under his breath in a language I didn’t recognize, and the dead end vanished, revealing more stairs.
“How—”
But Carsis’ gaze back to me reminded me to stay silent. I stored my question away for future reference and followed him down until we came to an open hallway. It looked like a former armory, as ancient armor, spears, helmets, swords, and icons from a time long forgotten rested on the walls of the room. The ceiling wasn’t terribly high, maybe eight feet tall, but not tall enough I had to duck. The hallway was about fifteen feet wide and stretched to a door at the far end, but the door was so far out I could only make it out in contrast to the gray wall surrounding it.
“OK, Sonya, to answer your question, we just crossed from the human to the spiritual realm. However, the link is so open that even a human could stumble upon this with the right words.”
“Which are?”
“Latin, and I’ll tell you later, but that is not the focus of today,” Carsis said. “Instead, I want to teach you to teleport effortlessly.”
“And I do that how?”
“Simple, practice.”
Now I could see why Carsis said that this would take as long as it needed to.
“The first time you fired a gun—the very first time ever, not the first time in the CIA—you probably spent nearly a dozen seconds lining up your shot. You spent many more making sure that no one was in the way. You checked the safety and the casing more than once, correct?”
Oh, I remembered. I was just thirteen years old, taken to a shooting range by Brady. Carsis was absolutel
y right. I couldn’t say I was old enough to really have an opinion on guns at that age, but I certainly was scared at the thought of using one.
I also remembered how, after that first shot, the time it took to prep to fire went from probably a dozen seconds to five to one.
“So you used a lot of energy in firing just one shot. If I’d made you go into a full firefight without training, you’d be exhausted after a single clip. But now you can fire your pistols in the spiritual realm endlessly, you can reload in the human realm with the effortlessness of a combat-hardened soldier, and you do so without hesitation, thought, or fatigue. It’s the same thing with teleportation. I know that you already did that with the guns when you fought the Arachtar, but it took a lot out of you, and were it not for your demon side, you would have fallen to Nuforsa.”
Don’t remind me. That bitch is long gone. I don’t need to dwell on her any longer than necessary.
“If you practice teleporting here, you will gain a valuable skill that will allow you to dodge enemy attacks you have no business dodging, reach enemy weak points, and surprise unsuspecting enemies.”
“Like I was at the Van Gogh Museum with the teleporting assholes,” I said, recalling all too well the painful blow to the head and the gut.
“Exactly. So here is what I want you to do. I want you to teleport to the far end of the room right now. However you need to. Don’t worry about exhausting yourself. I have food that will revitalize you.”
I snorted but nevertheless obeyed, closing my eyes and focusing on teleporting. I imagined my body reappearing on the far end of the hallway, just a snap and—
I felt warmth overwhelm my body, a hot feeling like I’d jumped into a sauna. I trembled a bit, then felt oddly light like I was in free fall on an elevator. Then my weight came back, though my knees buckled and I nearly fell. But I opened my eyes and was at the far end of the hall, my back to the door. From afar, Carsis stood, then disappeared for a flash before appearing on my right.
“Impressive,” he said. “You do something once, it’s like you learn from it immediately. Even teleporting your guns… I am pleasantly surprised, Sonya. I see now why Mundus craves you so badly.”
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