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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The chairman nodded. "And she's coming for you... which, until I know for sure, I cannot allow her to do-my daylight vessel."
Damali's smile was so tight she thought it might crack her face. "Detain me, and I will call down warrior angels so hard, so fast, along with every Neteru queen ever conceived... spirits, angels, and a spiritual army to turn this mother out. We can kick off the Armageddon tonight, if you want. Try me."
"You might want an escort, topside, since you seem to be in a suicidal frame of mind." He chuckled and called for a transport cloud. "Or, we can further negotiate over a glass of merlot, then I could take you topside myself as a gesture of our mutual understanding."
"I only traveled with one of you like that, and you fried him."
"But you have obviously brought him back, and are hiding him. I'd like to discuss that, too, one night-but not tonight. It seems moot at this juncture."
"Two seconds longer in here, and I'll find a way to pull your heart into my hand. Do not make me go there in your chambers." Damali began walking away from him. She no longer feared having him at her back. She'd beat his ass down, mentally.
"You're so much stronger now than when you were a little girl."
She stopped walking but didn't turn.
"What you did in here was absolutely phenomenal," he said quietly, his voice a seductive low tone. "The treachery needed to get through all the realms without a master to courier you... and the weapons you employed, the shape-shifts. But the thing I respected most about this duel that has come to a draw is that you had no fear.None . Your hands around my throat had a singular objective-to blot me from all existence. I could feel it running all through you," he said, his voice now barely audible. "Tell me. Did he teach you that, too?"
She turned slowly to face him, pure hatred cascading through her. "No, baby. That part was all me."
"Thank you, Father O'Dwyer," Father Patrick said, inspecting the heavy artillery that the cleric presented.
"We only had this much, enough to outfit half of your group, but the rest are hand-to-hand combat weapons from the old days," the young priest said.
"Give the newbies the stakes, holy-water vials, anything that's not a projectile," Shabazz said. "If we're out there and they freak, they could blow off one of our heads."
Big Mike nodded and began distributing equipment as Shabazz ordered. "It takes a long time to learn how to fire a weapon properly, when to, and what to target so there's no collateral damage-when civilians and police draw in," he said, tossing a Glock to Berkfield. "Ask him, he knows. Friendly fire is always a problem with the new ones. Even a long blade can be a problem." Mike showed Juanita, Marjorie, and her children how to point the vials toward the ground so they'd quickly burst on impact. "This is for defensive measures only-to back up an attacker, create enough smoke from a singe, and bring us in to finish the job."
"But I have to go with you," the rabbi said, growing agitated. "You won't know where to look."
"You stay here. You'll have a battle-trained policeman, Berkfield, along with the Covenant to guard you," Marlene said. "Give us the keys, tell us where your stash is, and once it's daylight and we get to an area where we can all stay together under barriers that will hold, we'll begin training all you new folks." She nodded toward Shabazz. "You have to learn how to move to be able to hold your position, fire a weapon or swing one, without lopping your teammate's head off with a bad swing. And you have to be able to do it blind, in the dark, sense where they are, where the evil is coming from, because that's where we go-in the dark."
The rabbi nodded and handed Marlene his keys and stepped back to stand with Father Patrick and the other clerics. Satisfied by the terror on the new Guardian's faces, Marlene continued in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I want you afraid so you take this seriously. Fear will keep you sharp, and being sharp will keep you alive. Shabazz has to teach you some break-hold moves-how to fall and get back up without broken bones, how to land blows that will topple an enemy's center of gravity-but for now, your goal is torun ."
She walked over to Juanita. "Take out all pierced earrings. They can use that to drag you into a feeding den, if it's weres. Down in the shelter section of this church, there's a clothing and food bank. Everybody put on some pants, running shoes, and T-shirts. Nothing they can hold easily to trap you. Hair, same deal. Ponytails are a problem. They're perfect to wind their claws around and snap your neck," she added, demonstrating on Krissy's long tresses. "Cut it, or wind it in a bun that holds."
Marlene paced back and forth, her nerves fraying as she stared at the unready team. Her walking stick clicked on the ground each time she tapped it, creating an eerie echo though the semiempty church. "Let the clerics fan out around you. If one of them goes down, leave him. That's their job. Smudge your throats with holy water and blessed incense. If we're dealing with vamps, that might save your jugular."
"And if you get nicked bad," Big Mike said, "we'll have to do you." He tossed a bowie knife to Berkfield. "Give each of them a short blade with the edges dipped in anointing oil. If it gets hand-to-hand for them, they've gotta go lizard brain."
Berkfield's son slowly accepted the knife. "Dad... what's lizard brain?"
"Total instinct, Bobby," Berkfield said. "Military term. When you go totally primal, don't think, just act from that primordial part of your brain, and take out the enemy-kill or be killed. Don't look in their eyes, or even think, just stab whatever's got hold of you and keep stabbing until it lets you go, and then run."
Marlene looked at the stricken expressions on the women's faces. "Lizard brain is not being repulsed by anything you have to do to get free. Gouge out their eyes, bite, kick, scratch, go wild, any part of their bodies is fair game-because yours is, for them. Got it?"
Slow nods answered her, but no one spoke. "Good," she said, pulling on a pair of old jeans and exchanging her sandals for rubber-sole work shoes as she spoke. The men on the squad stripped and dressed in the sanctuary as Marlene continued her lesson, all modesty gone. This was war.
"Not a word," Damali said as a cloud left her in the middle of Gabrielle's parlor floor. "Later, me and you can dissect-"
"Not a word!" Carlos shouted. Was she nuts? He was practically foaming at the mouth with rage. "You coulda-"
"Been smoked," Damali said, leveling her arm at him in a hard snap with her finger pointing toward him so hard that it shook. "But I wasn't, and did what needed to be done. After all the shit you did, double deals, hardball negotiations, and side alliances in Hell, donot try to tell me about this situation." She looked at Gabrielle, ignoring the awe on her face, or the outright lust in Yonnie's. Rider she wouldn't even glance at. She settled her gaze on Tara. "Weapons check, then we hit the streets to go find our team. We have much to tell them, the clock is ticking, and girlfriend just got a hit of my blood."
They had concealed their weapons as best they could under long, heavy leather coats as they strolled down the street, seeming like a small group of friends on the way to explore Manhattan's nightlife. The couples paired off and kept their gazes roving. Damali had traded in the bulky AK-47 for a smaller handheld automatic. Rider gave up the pump shotgun for a 380 stashed in his waistband. Gabrielle was strapped with double Glock nines and enough silver to anchor a ship. Carlos was packing twin mini-Uzis, and all had rounds of explosives, bowie knives, and silver daggers. But Damali had insisted on a long blade concealed down the back of her coat. She missed her Isis and still reached for the old girl from time to time out of reflex.
"Still can't pinpoint them," Damali said quietly. "Even outside. Something's wrong."
"We keep moving," Carlos said, passing a crowded bar. "We stay near populated areas and try to pick up the tracer."
Marlene stood outside the cathedral and walked a few paces away from the property boundary. The street was oddly deserted, only a few human passersby walked along, briskly headed to more fascinating destinations deeper within the bowels of the city that never slept.
"You got anything, Mar?" Shabazz asked, coming to stand near her and discreetly cover her. He kept his hand inside his ragged fatigue jacket, poised over his nine.
"Not yet," she replied, her gaze moving along the buildings. "But there's definitely an energy shift." She glanced back at J.L. and Jose. "Formation and fan out." She then nodded toward Dan and Big Mike and they followed suit. Marlene stopped walking and bristled, bringing the group to a halt.
A slow-moving gray mist wafted by and settled several yards away from them. Marlene held up her hand to instruct the team not to advance or fire.
"Let it materialize so we know what we're dealing with and how many. Everybody stay cool."
In agonizingly slow increments, the form filled in, but remained sheer. Marlene stopped breathing.
"Stay cool, and keep your head, Mar," Shabazz warned. "This thing is fucking with you. Raven is dead."
"Mom..." an echoey voice murmured, making the breeze amongst the trees whistle as dead leaves swirled on the concrete. "Mom, it's me, Christine."
"You have to do better than that," Marlene said, fighting the building tears. "My daughter is dead."
"You don't understand," the entity whispered, its form waffling and becoming almost liquefied as it struggled to maintain an image. "The portals are all opening... level by level. I slipped out to help you. Come now, so I can bring you to Damali."
Marlene whipped out a holy-water vial and cocked her hand back, readied for an attack. But when the entity simply wept and didn't try to take cover or come for her, confusion made her hesitate.
"Do it, please," the entity whispered. "I am so sorry I hurt you so."
"Do it, Mar," Shabazz said through his teeth. "Raven never apologized. This is a ruse."
"Noooo..." the ghostly voice wailed. "The talk is everywhere. It is possible to ascend-to change sides. It's not too late. A councilman opened a gate and Light poured in... the warriors came. I got through the hole because I was never supposed to be there. Carlos showed us that there's still a path."
"Hold up, 'Bazz," Big Mike said, moving closer. "Even if this is a game, there's information in it."
Shabazz nodded. The rest of the squad kept their gazes moving during the standoff, weapons readied. He gave Marlene a sideline glance. "Make her tell you something good. I'm not down for a setup."
Marlene stared at what could be a demon posing as her daughter. The sight of her was heartbreaking. Her form moved in a restless state between the old image of her child, and that of a vampire. One moment the entity was a young girl with smooth brown skin, huge pretty eyes filled with tears of remorse. She remembered the thick plaits she used to comb, and the favorite nightgown Christine used to wear when they would cuddle in bed and share stories... pale blue. The next moment the adult vixen would take shape, dressed in all-black leather, her form voluptuous and scantily clad, her sad eyes glowing yellow and her fangs razors. But they'd dusted Raven. Damali had levied the deathblow. It tortured her mind to know that her child's soul had bottomed out on the succubae level two.
The test question came to Marlene quickly as she watched the floating entity shift back to her childlike form. "When I used to read stories to Christine, those times were always sealed with prayer before she joined me in bed. Tell me something from that time that is beyond the reach of Darkness."
The child form filled in and began weeping as it hummed the melody of the song, "If I Could." "... But I know that I could never cry your tears, but I would, if I could."
Marlene covered her mouth and took in a deep, shaky breath. "If I could, I would always try to shelter you from harm..."
The entity nodded. "I know you would... if you could."
"I tried, baby," Marlene whispered, her eyes filling. "I tried to so hard."
"Mom, I'm so sorry. I just want to go home," it said, and pointed skyward. "I don't want you to hurt anymore."
"Give that thing another test, Mar," Shabazz said, unconvinced and stepping in front of Marlene.
The city went dark. Every light along the streets-not a massive building in sight had power. Save the moon and stars, New York City was in total darkness.
"Oh, shit!" Jose flung his wool coat back and leveled his weapon at the glowing gray blob that began to dissipate.
The squad drew in close, all weapons revealed and ready to fire.
"The portals are open, you must follow... you must follow." the disembodied voice said, leaving a thin gray trail of ether. "There is no time to think."
The group stopped walking. Damali and Carlos pivoted and stared at the blackness of the skyline.
"The lights," Gabrielle gasped. "All of Manhattan?"
People eating at the outdoor cafes stood and shouted. Indoor patrons yelled and screamed and ran outside. Bars emptied. Nightclubs spilled partygoers onto the sidewalks. People rushed from brownstones, apartment buildings, offices, and stores. Those trapped on the upper floors of residences opened their windows and shouted for answers. People trapped, behind huge picture windows banged on them in silent terror, their attempts to be seen and heard futile. Chaos rippled down the streets as people fled buildings and filled the streets like panicked lemmings. Cars honked their horns and collisions echoed as traffic ground to a halt.
Rider reached into his coat pocket, pulled out an emergency light wand, and snapped it, spilling eerie blue-tinged illumination over his hands. "There's gotta be people trapped in the subways and elevators all over the freakin' city. You folks with the night vision, can you see anything we oughta be dealing with?"
Carlos and Damali squinted as Tara and Yonnie scanned the terrain.
"Manholes are moving," Yonnie muttered. "You hear it? The metal grating open?"
Carlos and Damali nodded.
"Yeah," Damali said. "Rider, how's your nose?"
"Were-demons," Rider said, pulling out his gun and taking the safety off it. "Wolfen variety."
Gabrielle drew her weapon and wrapped a thick silver band of chains around her fist.
"The vents," Tara said, touching Yonnie's shoulder. "Listen. Slithering."
"Serpents," Damali agreed. "Once you hear it, you never forget it."
"Amanthras," Yonnie confirmed.
"That's every level except six," Carlos said as the team moved with difficulty through the growing crowd toward the subway. "All at the same time?"
The disguised couples pushed their way through the packed street. Frenzied people were rushing everywhere, bumping and shoving, half blind in the dark.
"Yeah," Yonnie said, elbowing his way through the crowd with Carlos. "Only one thing could open all the zones at the same time."
"I know," Carlos said and continued to force his way toward a subway entrance. He fought his way down the yawning black mouth like a salmon swimming against the stream of rushing bodies that bumped and trampled their way to freedom. "Level seven."
THE MOMENT they hit the entrance to the platform Damali and her squad were surrounded by pitch blackness. Screams from frightened passengers echoed through the subway cavern and their bodies were bumped and shoved hard as people fled blindly in all directions. Her night vision kicked in and she could see people trampling each other in total panic.
Carlos scanned the mayhem, his vision distorted to only the silvery outline of humans, but when he glanced at Tara and Yonnie, he saw them as a red outline. It took him a few seconds to adjust to his strange new way of seeing in the dark. "Light a torch!" he yelled to Yonnie. "We've gotta light a path to get these civilians out of here."
Yonnie complied, materializing two large beacon flashlights. The new illumination seemed to marginally stem the tide of panic as he hurried toward the stairs and shone a light upward. "This way?!" he hollered, making the crowd draw toward the light and out of the team's path.
"Thanks, mister," a man hollered. "You guys cops? What the hell's going on?"
"Power outage," Damali shouted over the din. "Stay cool, get to the top. Follow the light so we can find out the trouble."
Flowing like a living river, the people on the platform rushed up the stairs behind Yonnie. He handed off the lights to the strongest human carriers he could make out and swiftly joined Carlos.
"Watch our backs," Carlos instructed, as he and Damali levered open doors.
"Tara, stay with Rider and you guys get the end cars," Damali said, pushing the end of her blade between frozen car doors and leaning on it like a crowbar. But the moment the doors pried open an inch, she had to yank back her blade and point it upward. Panicked passengers grappled at the doors and leveraged them open and poured out of the trapped cars. She had to press her back against the steel and glass to keep from being trampled or from inadvertently goring a rushing body.
Within minutes all was still underground. Carlos had gotten the conductor out and was working on the front-door exit that led to the tracks. For a moment the team stood still, listening and assessing as the door finally slid back. Yonnie pointed forward with two fingers. She and Carlos could hear it, too, the mild rumbling sound like a slow-moving earthquake shuttering the train with a faint vibration not more than a few blocks away.
Quietly they each made it to the edge of the stalled car and jumped down to the tracks, picking up the pace with a brisk jog, weapons pointed up. When Carlos stopped advancing he hugged the filthy concrete walls beneath the platform, aware of the dangerous third rail that could come back to life at any second when the power returned.
"We can't fire off automatic rounds in here," Damali whispered. "The ricochet alone could kill any of us."
"We need to spot it, bait it, and lure whatever it is up to the streets," Yonnie said, his line of vision trained toward the yawning blackness.
Damali shook her head. "We take a firefight to the streets, with all those people up there, the casualties from our bullets will drop innocent bodies, not to mention give whatever we're hunting body shields and food."
"So what do you propose?" Rider asked, shuddering.
Carlos felt his head and looked at Damali. "This man is ice cold but sweating like a pig. Adrenaline is spiking the virus through his system faster than it should."
"I'm fine. Let's keep moving," Rider said. "I feel stronger, too."
"He can see in the dark," Tara said quietly. "I haven't been leading him, only Gabrielle."
"Will you people give it a rest!" Rider said in a harsh whisper. "I've got at least three nights. We don't have time for this."
Yonnie shook his head and looked at Carlos. "Level seven opened the portals, man. There's no guarantees that his time hasn't sped up. Once the dark current comes up topside..."
"I know," Carlos muttered, exchanging a worried glance with Damali. "Rider, if you start getting stomach cramps, you let somebody know. Hear?"
"Whatever," Rider said, spitting on the tracks. "I might be an old man by your standards, but I'm not senile."
Shabazz yanked Marlene's arm hard to stop her as she dashed toward a subway entrance. "Underground we're sitting ducks! You don't even know if we've been set up!"
"Feel it, 'Bazz," she said out of breath. "Tacticals-do you feel a setup?"
Shabazz and Dan stretched out their hands, touching the air, but said nothing.
"Mike, you hear anything up here?"
Mike shook his head no. "Everything is underground. If we're gonna bring it, then we've gotta take the fight to them."
"Jose, track it. Talk to me," Marlene said quickly.
Jose pointed the barrel of his weapon down. "In the tunnels. Just like old times."
"Then she didn't lie," Marlene said, her half-blind gaze hard on Shabazz. "Don't you understand that there's a rip in the whole dark-realm world order? If a soul, like Christine's, that's been damned and committed to an eternal sentence can be reclaimed-this is a serious opportunity.They messed up by opening the gates. It's a free-for-all, now. This is the beginning of the big war."
"All right," Shabazz said reluctantly. "Then let's do this."
Mike was out front, using his massive size and bulk to push a wide path open through the bodies so the team could get down to the platform. He produced a flashlight and it made the frightened crowd cheer, then it took almost ten minutes to clear the area and draft marshals that were calm enough to complete the evacuation. Once down on the platform, people who were still stuck in the cars pounded on windows, crying out for help.
"We can't leave 'em, Mar," he said, stopping the team's advance to the end of the platform where they could descend to the tracks. "If something is hunting down here, it'll eat before it fights. You know that."
Every man took a door, using their knives to cut the rubber stoppers and make enough space for their hands to get through. Marlene wedged her stick through a door and leaned on it with the help of passengers inside.
"Follow the lights," she yelled, helping distraught passengers get their bearings to stem their panic.
The team began running, but Shabazz turned back. "Where's Mike?"
A woman was huddled on the floor of the empty first car, her body shielding another one. She looked up with tears streaking her face as Mike shined an emergency light on her.
"She's old," the young woman said. "She fell and was trampled. She doesn't speak English-I think she's Russian, or something."
Mike squatted down as the young woman slowly moved away from a frail, elderly woman who lifted her head and wept.
"I just couldn't leave her, mister," the young woman with braids said, her voice shaky as she tried to stand. "Please. You've gotta help her. She could be anyone's momma."
Mike looked back toward his team. He could hear them calling for him, panicking in the darkness. He put the light closer to the young woman's face. Her big eyes glistened in the eerie bluish emergency-light stick. Her dark brown, round face was gentle, and her hands trembled as they patted the old lady's arm. "Yo!" he hollered. "Back here. We've got injured. Two minutes."
The girl closed her eyes and leaned down to the old woman. "Thank you," she said, glancing up at Mike. "Ma'am, don't worry, this officer is going to help you."
The elderly woman looked up at Mike and smiled a toothless grin. "Bless you," she said. "I'm all right."
Both Mike and the young girl stared at her, amazed as she pulled herself up on a subway pole and they helped her stand.
"C'mon, lady, let's get you up the stairs," Mike said, putting his arm around the old woman.
"But she couldn't speak English," the girl said, her voice filled with awe.
"You two go up to where the guy is with the flashlight. It's dangerous down here. We'll handle it," Mike said, wondering who the sweet sister was who had risked life and limb for a stranger.
"No," the old woman protested, walking quickly. "You must take her with you-she's one of yours. Hurry, before they come."
Mike stood very, very still as the elderly woman walked without assistance, looked both ways as she stepped over the train-door threshold, and quickly paced toward the light. Instantly he pulled a weapon on the girl. "State your business, sis. Fast."
Confusion and terror filled the girl's face.
"Mike, you cool?" Shabazz hollered. "Two minutes is up."
"I'm-"
Before Mike could finish his sentence the train rocked, glass shattered, and the girl in the car with him screamed and hit the floor. Something was moving so fast through the cars, splintering metal doors, taking out poles, and shattering glass, that Mike only got off a short burst of automatic rounds when the huge head struck at him.
He fell back. He could hear people screaming in the distance. A thick, muscular rope of black serpentine body whipped through the car. He rolled on the other side of the pole, dodging the huge razor fangs that dripped acid. The floor sizzled, the young girl shrieked and screamed and balled up in a seat. The long body retracted as the head made another powerful lunge. He heard his teammates rushing toward them. The angry serpent's head collided with the ceiling of the stalled subway car, making metal bend and more glass shatter as it tried to gore Mike.
From the corner of his eye he saw the girl reach into her bag and pull out a switchblade, slashing blindly with her eyes closed as she screamed. She got a deep slice in that drew the demon back for a second, but it redoubled its efforts becoming angrier than before.
The momentary pullback offered him just the opportunity he needed as he sent another controlled burst dead aim into the center of the beast's chest.
A small explosion rocked their car, blowing out the remaining glass and creating a shower of embers as the creature turned to ash and withered.
He was panting, sweat pouring down his temples; his shirt became second skin as it matted to his torso. "C'mon," he yelled to the girl, dragging her by the arm as he heard another slithering sound rocket in their direction.
She was on her feet, stumbling, running. Shabazz had her other arm as the team tried to find the stairs, their light source gone.
"Not the stairs!" Marlene yelled, sending the team in a new direction just as a large head came down the steps.
Jose had fallen on his back and opened fire, sending shells flying as the beast snapped and hissed. The report was deafening and Mike covered his ears as Jose slid across the subway floor. Two beasts twined around the stranded train, crushing it as they looked onward with green glowing eyes, flicking their hideous black tongues, searching for bodies. Dan slung holy-water grenades at the train as the beast Jose battled began to incinerate. The moment the vials exploded, gook splattered the team and plumes of angry, yellow sulfuric smoke choked them. A pair of green eyes opened on the ductwork and electrical cabling over the train and then receded.
Gagging, the team staggered forward. Mike caught the young woman under her arms and held her up as they moved to the end of the platform.
"We have to make it to the next exit," Shabazz sputtered through heavy coughs. "We can't chance this exit, and she can't be left here."
"I wasn't leaving her no way," Mike said, holding the girl close as she clung to his arm. "She saved my life." He looked down at her and gave her a gentle squeeze. "I got you. What's your name, baby?"
"Inez," she choked. "Oh my God, what's happening?"
"Of course it's starting!" the rabbi shouted, his voice echoing through the sanctuary. "This is what I've been trying to tell you all. We shouldn't be waiting here in the dark with only candles like sitting ducks! But that shrew, Marlene, wanted us to just wait."
"Shut up!" Marjorie shouted. "I'm not going out of here with my children. Are you insane? We do what they said and stay here where it's safe!" She stood and hugged her children. "If we had listened to you, we'd probably be out there in the dark, stranded, and killed. You're worried about getting to weapons your brother stashed, but technology didn't save him, did it? Did it?"
"What do you know of my brother?" the rabbi yelled back at Marjorie. "Dr. Ishmael Zeitloff was a visionary who survived Auschwitz-so you will never speak to me about his-"
"If anything, the people or things that killed him are waiting for you to go back there and we would have been set up," Marjorie said, rounding her children and pointing at the rabbi. "Your place is a lure, a death trap. I know it like I know my name-soshut up about going to Brooklyn. Not an option or a risk any of us are willing to take."
"How do you live with such a Lilith? You're a schmuck to allow her to take your reason-you're a policeman, do something, shoot something!" the rabbi yelled toward Berkfield. "This screech owl is-"
"What did you say?" Father Patrick shouted, grabbing the rabbi by the arm.
"Unhand me, you old goat! I will kick your ass! I know my rights, this is assault and battery!"
"Hey, old dude, that's my wife-what'd you call her?" Berkfield shouted. "I don't care if you're a-"
"No. Stop it, all of you. Rabbi Zeitloff may have broken the code!" Father Patrick said quickly as the other clerics formed a ring around the growing dispute.
His statement immediately stopped the argument. "Lilith..." Father Patrick murmured, and then crossed himself.
The others stared at Father Patrick and then the rabbi, who was slack-jawed.
"Lilith?" The rabbi peered around at the group. "The Lilith? The Devil's wife?"
"Oh, shit," Bobby said and stood up. "Pardon my French, Fathers, but I..."
"Yes," Imam Asula said, and then looked at the rabbi. "We can all relate. Explain this Lilith. She's not in our books, Rabbi."
"Adam's first wife-"
"Oh, get out," Berkfield said with a nervous chuckle. "Adam didn't have a freakin' first wife, only Eve... and she bit the apple, but hey-"
"That is because you do not know your Torah or the Kabbalah!" the rabbi shouted, smoothing his beard and then calming himself. "She gave birth to hundreds of demons and she divorced Adam and took up residence in a cave on the Red Sea." He looked at Father Patrick. "This is our history, we know her name and your Guardian, Daniel, would agree with me-if he remembers his Hebrew lessons well-which I suspect in his profession, he would. She existed."
"It was all right before our eyes," Father Patrick whispered. "The succubus attacks on the plane. The screech owl-demon presentation..."
"That's right," the rabbi said, standing taller. Eerie candlelight glinted off his glasses and made his gaunt face seem longer within the darkened church. The stricken team sat rapt, listening to his words. No one blinked or swallowed as the elderly cleric spoke.
"She would not submit to Adam, and took issue with God, then fled. They sent three angels after her to hunt her down because she fled to Babylon and sucked men's seed from their bodies in their sleep... today, the politically correct term is nocturnal emissions. In my day, it was called wet dreams, but I digress. The main thing is that this witch-demon used what she siphoned from righteous men in their sleep to create Hell's army." He shrugged. "She was the Devil's kind of woman and liked to play rough, so he married her. But there was a truce. The Archangel Michael slayed her progeny to near extinction and she hid what remained beneath the bowels of the earth. She is the forbidden-the creator of lust. She kills babies in the womb, causes miscarriages and stillbirths, because her jealousy over any woman who is with child is so wretched, because of the losses of her own. This demon is almost as bad as Lucifer himself, and I put odds on it that she's even a handful for him."
"We got attacked over the Red Sea," Monk Lin said quietly.
"Our younger Guardians were... influenced in their sleep. She tried to pry the whereabouts of the Neterus from them," Imam Asula said, hoisting a machete up tighter in his hand. "They claimed that the succubus was unsuccessful," he added carefully, looking at the other clerics. "But, then again, it is difficult for a man to confess such a compromise in detail, even to his brothers."
Father Lopez looked away. "We've got two teams out there that don't know what they're up against."
"If this is literally the baddest mother in the valley, and our teams are out there possibly stranded," Berkfield said, checking the clip on his weapon, "how do we kill this bitch?"
All eyes went to Father Patrick. He stared at them and then looked toward the altar. "Honestly, I don't know."
Damali and Carlos had stopped walking as soon as the gunfire began in the distance behind them. Yonnie and Tara cocked their heads to one side.
"That was our team," Damali whispered.
Carlos and Yonnie nodded. They all looked down at their feet as vermin squealed and flooded over their boots. Gabrielle closed her eyes and clenched her fists to her sides to keep from screaming. Tara hissed with disgust and hovered just inches above the foul assault.
Rider tilted his head to the side and took in a deep breath. "Everybody stay very still, weapons ready," he murmured. "Werewolves in the house."
Yonnie and Carlos spun at the same time, their gazes going toward the tunnel ceiling. Battle-length fangs ripped through Yonnie's gums. Tara vaporized and took up a position to flank Rider.
Gabrielle pointed her weapon at the fast-moving targets that snarled and then slowed down, assessing their prey as they edged forward. She stood back-to-back with Damali holding her breath, waiting for the attack that was imminent.
The lead beast swayed its huge head, the muscles in its shoulders knitting in readiness to lunge. Carlos's eyes glowed silver as it went into a low crouch against the electrical cable and three more crept down the walls in attack formation.
In a blur, the beasts lunged. Carlos's gaze severed a massive clawed limb that lashed out at Yonnie. Three were-demons went airborne, and Yonnie sucker-punched the one that came at his right, sending it sprawling down the tracks. Rider opened fire, dead aim, incinerating the one that Tara had mounted. Damali ducked, missing a swipe, and her blade connected with a beast's side, opening a horrible gash that spilled black blood. The wounded howled, as Gabrielle and Damali drew their guns in unison and blew off its head. But the huge beast with a missing limb had snatched Rider by the leg.
"Freeze!" Damali shouted, and time crept to a near halt but didn't stop.
Rider unloaded rounds in slow motion, bullets spiraling toward the middle of the beast's huge forehead. Then time snapped back to real time without warning. The massive head exploded in a fiery rain that made Rider protectively cover his face. A half-wounded were-demon rushed Yonnie, and Carlos clapped, opening a shield that the beast moved through too quickly to avoid, leaving a pile of ash. Yonnie spun 360 degrees, his gaze landing upon a huge beast that stalked down the cavern slowly.
The team got Rider to his feet to face the challenger that stood six feet at the shoulders; its head the size of a small chest of drawers. Its matted brown and black fur was crawling with larva and its yellow eyes glowed, creating an eerily hypnotic sight. Yellowed fangs filled its distended mouth, its snout testing the air, making the sound of doglike snuffling reverberate off the walls. The thing before them stopped fifty feet away and the team watched as it drew slow, hard pants into its barrel chest.
"Neterus," it snarled, drooling greenish saliva. "My bounty is won!"
Every trigger finger jerked. No weapons fired. Instant glances of distress ricocheted around the team out of ammo. There was no time to reload. The beast before them was too fast and too strong.
"Senator!" Carlos shouted. "We are to die, but should know our enemy. That is the code of vengeance!"
The were-demon laughed and advanced slowly. "My pleasure, Mr. Councilman." He crouched low for the final attack. "Lilith sent me."
The thing was airborne in seconds. It hurdled forward with such speed that there wasn't even time to duck. But something behind them moved with the same velocity, only slithering speed. The two combatants collided midair above the small squad, sending them scrambling out of the way as the were-demon became ensnared in huge black coils that crushed his bones. The were-demon howled and bit a massive chunk of serpent flesh out of his attacker. They landed with a thud, breaking concrete and bending all rails beneath them.
"The kill is mine," the serpent hissed in a rage-filled sibilance, then reared back its head and stuck the were-demon in the chest, yanking out its heart and entire rib cage before consuming it. Instantly it turned its attention on the scrambling team, patiently drawing the wolfen senator into its viselike jaws. It threw back its head and simply chugged the carcass down, creating a large lump in its side as its head thrashed back and forth.
"Get off the third rail!" Carlos shot his glance to Damali and Yonnie. Tara yanked Rider near her and glanced down, making Rider reach for Gabrielle. Damali was already in safety range as Carlos quickly knelt, grabbed the third rail, released it, and then stared at it. The serpent's huge body moved forward, its width taking up the entire track as its scales scraped along the tiled wall.
Suddenly it stopped, hissed, shuddered, and began to smoke. Its green glowing eyes went silver-blue and its entire body was outlined in silver-white electrical current that arced and made it begin to smoke. It released a hideous scream, twisting and turning and banging its head against the concrete ceiling, sending huge chunks of rock and debris raining down on the team as it burned.
They ran. Behind them was a screeching, jerking menace. Before them was black tunnel, but it was a better option. The blue-white light coming behind them grew hotter and whiter and then came the explosion that threw them forward and skidding dangerously near the hot rail.
"Kill the rail!" Damali shouted.
Carlos covered his head as cement shrapnel hurled toward them. He rolled over on his back and threw up a shield. Rail spikes, bricks and mortar, tiles, and debris flew like rockets toward them, entered the golden glow, and then crumbled to ash.
Silence followed the stench. The lay on their stomachs for a few moments trying to place where they were in relation to the now-live rail.
"Kill the rail, baby," Damali said coughing. "There could be people in the tunnels trying to get out that could get hurt."
Carlos nodded and stood slowly. "It's dead. I'm pretty sure." He stumbled forward and kicked gravel toward it. Then he clapped his hands and tried to summon a shield to no avail. "I'm tapped out for the night."
Yonnie got up slowly, helping Tara and Gabrielle to their feet. "Mr. Councilman, you are still da man."
"No lie," Rider said, struggling to his feet and shuddering hard. "But, guys, seriously. I don't feel so good."
Mike began running first, headed toward the sound of the blast. Shabazz and the others were right on his heels.
Yonnie squinted and looked at Carlos. "Incoming!" Damali listened hard. "Human. Might be ours." Yonnie and Tara shared a glance. "We have to feed," Yonnie said and then looked at Rider. "Might have to feed him soon, too."
Carlos caught Rider before he fell. Shivers had replaced the occasional shudder and Rider's face was soaking wet. Damali felt Rider's freezing forehead and looked at his gray pallor, then stroked his hair back.
"We need a medic!" Damali hollered into the blackness, just in case it wasn't her team. Paramedics should have been flooding the tunnels, along with police. That was the best she could hope for.
No one spoke as Carlos hoisted Rider up under one arm and they began a slow run in the direction of the human footfalls.
"Yo, Damali!" Mike hollered. "Hold your fire. It's us!"
Big Mike's call made the two separated squads cover ground quickly. A bouncing dim light came from the direction of Mike's voice. The moment the two teams came together, Damali gasped.
"Inez! Oh, my God!"
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