The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) (109 page)

In his world, losing control was fatal.

Jordan snarled and pushed himself away from the wall with an orange flame forming between his curled fingers. “You have a lot of balls for someone about to die, Primani. I’m going to destroy you. When I’m done with you, no one will even remember your name.”

Just as he was about to throw the fireball at them, Killian flashed himself directly in front of Jordan. His hand stopped mid-throw, flames dipping and swaying with the faint breeze.

“Put that shit down! You want to fight me, traitor? Then fight me like a man. Hand to hand. Fist to fist. No magic. No weapons.” He tossed his weapons to Alex and held out his hands to show he was unarmed.

Alex caught the burning blade, swearing as it seared two of his fingers. The damn thing was too valuable to leave on the ground, so he shoved it into his own sheath at his belt. Watching Killian stand there unarmed, he rubbed his eyes. Damn, his boy was giving him a migraine. What the hell was he
doing
? He moved out of the line of fire, but stayed close enough to jump in if he needed to. Killian had something up his sleeve; he always did. Jordan never battled beside him or he would know that too. The Primani was always one step ahead of his enemy.

“Come get some, traitor!” Killian curled two fingers in mocking invitation. “You too afraid to fight me? Afraid I’ll bury your punk ass?” He stood ready to move with catlike reflexes.

Jordan’s face had been turning an interesting shade of red and his eyes burned like a bug light.

Oh, yeah, there was a whole lot of crazy going on inside his head.

His mouth twisted with a feral snarl and he slammed his weapons to the ground and lunged at Killian with clawed fingers.

Anticipating this move, Killian leapt up and over Jordan’s back as he grabbed at nothing and lost his balance. Rolling smoothly to his feet, Killian swung a wicked roundhouse to Jordan’s head sending him careening into a dumpster. The resulting crash reverberated through the alley. No way his ribs didn’t snap.

Jordan howled like a wild animal and pushed himself to his feet again. He shook himself off and lumbered toward the Primani waiting with a bring-it-on smirk.

Jordan swung a right hook that barely caught the tip of Killian’s chin. Killian countered with a powerful left that knocked the fallen angel’s nose off-center with a crunch and a shower of blood. His eyes went flat and he threw himself at Killian swinging both fists at his torso, pounding him like a punching bag.

It was against Alex’s nature to stay out of it, so he flexed his fingers around his own weapon and watched intently as the pair lurched towards the wall. Jordan was completely unhinged and pummeled at Killian. Just when Alex thought Killian must be about to collapse, he grabbed Jordan’s neck in one hand, turned him around and swept his legs out from under him. Jordan went down in partial collapse just as Killian brought his knee up in a vicious jab to his spine. Jordan shrieked and fell to the ground trying to tie himself into a pretzel. Alex flinched. Nerve damage was a bitch.

“Get up, motherfucker! We’re not finished yet! You’re still breathing.” Killian reached down and hauled him up by the shirtfront. Blood spewed from Jordan’s mouth and nose and he spit into Killian’s face.

Killian snarled and wrapped his hand around Jordan’s throat. Jordan went limp. Was he dead? No, wait, he’s moving! Alex shouted out a warning but it was too late. Jordan reached out and viciously grabbed Killian’s balls. Alex sucked in his breath and mentally cupped himself in sympathy, but Killian simply slammed Jordan into the street and raised his right hand over his cocked head, listening.

He smiled triumphantly as Alex stared in amazement.
Sgaine Eiron
had been humming louder and louder as the fight had gone on. Now it let out a scream that echoed like a siren. Everyone froze and stared as
Sgaine Dutre
flew through the air to Killian’s outstretched hand. The blue stone blazed like a star as its master’s fist claimed it once again. The blade screamed in defiance and then both blades went eerily silent.

Turning slowly to Jordan’s prone body, Killian grimaced as he raised his foot for the killing blow. Just as the boot should’ve shattered his melon, Jordan shimmered out.

“Coward!” Killian swung around and swore viciously.

He was still amped up and running hot. Jamming the blade into its sheath, he threw out his hand for its brother, which promptly flew to his side with a wink of red light. Alex grinned as he handed over the Sig. His eyes sparkled with rare mirth and he shook his head in disbelief.

“You knew it all along, didn’t you?”

Still burning with unspent energy, Killian paused in his fuming to give his friend a distracted nod. He dabbed at a cut on his lip and said gruffly, “Of course I did.”

London, England:

Domino greeted him at the front door as his molecules settled into place. He knew there were others here; he felt their
saols
as he zeroed in on the house. Looking up, he met the surprised eyes of way too many Primani in one place. Dec was standing with his arm around Mica, who was frozen in mid-step. On the couch sat the twins, Dimitri and Alexandyr. The two huge angels took up the entire thing. At 6’5”, they were the tallest Primani he’d known. All eyes snapped to his and froze. A tingle of warning slid over his skin and he scanned the house for trouble. He didn’t sense demons...but there was another being...no, maybe something else. No one said a word and they were so still he thought they could be frozen by a curse.

They all looked...guilty?

Domino rubbed her freckled face against his hand and made a faint huffing noise deep in her throat. Was she laughing? He glanced down in surprise and she wagged her tail, tongue lolling.

Oh, this is gonna be good!

“What’s going on?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

Mica’s hands dropped over her stomach and she bit her lip.

Oh, God. No!

Lunging for her, he demanded hoarsely, “What happened? Is the baby okay?”

She burst into sobs.

She was babbling something about him being freaked out, but he couldn’t make out the words through the sobs. He was about to explode into full-blown panic and looked wildly around for help.

Calm, cool, and collected, Dec was a lifesaver, as usual. His Primani brother pried Killian’s fingers off of Mica’s arms and shoved him to the couch between the giant twins.

“This is where I tell you that you should sit down.”

The hell with that. He was ready to explode. “What the hell is going on here? Someone better start talking or I’m going to start breaking people!”

Dec squatted in front of him and scrubbed his hand over his mouth trying to wipe a grin away. Killian looked right at Alexandyr and caught the light of laughter in his eyes. That bastard had no sense of humor so something was up.

Dimitri finally spoke through a half-smothered laugh. “Relax, bro. It’s no big deal.”

Nonplussed, he moved to get up and both twins shoved him back down. Dec handed him a piece of paper, a photograph of some kind. It was dark and grainy and didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen before.

“What the fuck is this?”

Mica sobbed harder and all three Primani burst out laughing.

Dec pointed his finger to a fuzzy blob on the page and said in a very strained voice, “This here’s Killian Junior.”

The room got very quiet all of a sudden. Killian’s heart slowed to a dull thud as he counted the number of blobs in the image.

Stunned, he stared until the page fell out of his numb fingers and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Hell, for real:

SEAN LANDED IN A CROUCH and threw Xairin’s wiry body into the rock wall behind them. Xairin landed with a thud and a muffled curse. Sean turned and kicked him viciously in the head and he collapsed in a heap. Sean’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked around and counted the number of soldiers lined up to keep him in line. Fuck. There were at least 20.

What the hell happened?

He’d been sound asleep five minutes ago. Xairin and crew had smashed in his door and dragged him out of bed and then shimmered off to where ever the hell they were now. Smelled like a cave...probably Hell.

The air shifted so abruptly the oxygen was sucked out of the cave. The blackness brightened with a swirl of reddish light that coalesced into one very pissed off Commander.

Holy shit! Someone had worked him over good. Hunched over and staggering with each step, the crazy bastard was bleeding from everywhere. Even better, his stringy white hair was almost gone. Only a few strands clung to the grey skin of his skull. His eyes were insane as they rolled around their sockets.

Waves of fury roiled from him in a black cloud.

Pointing a shaky finger at Sean’s chest, he snarled, “You! Come here.”

All eyes on me, Sean thought. Oh yeah, everyone pinned him to the wall. He knew he could move but weirdly felt paralyzed by the demons surrounding him. He’d have to gut it out.

Holding both hands out palms up, he said evenly, “Has something happened, Commander?”

Snapping harshly, he answered, “Don’t toy with me, Primani. I’m not in a good mood.”

Without another word, Jordan raised his hands.

Sean’s world collapsed to a narrow tunnel of blinding pain. Gripping both sides of his skull, Sean ground his teeth against the pain and would’ve fallen to his knees if he wasn’t frozen. Unable to collapse, he was helpless against the attack and hung in the air three feet above the ground. The room spun wildly and he was going to puke.

Jordan began to mumble words that sent panic running through his veins. This was it. Something had happened that made him suspicious. He was out of control with paranoia. The smell of desperation filled the cave.

Blood poured from his nose as Jordan yanked memories out of his head. It felt like pulling barbed wire through his sinus cavities and out his nose. Jesus, it hurt. His eyes watered uncontrollably and he could hear snickering from the peanut gallery. The pressure on his brain was unbearable and he was sure he would be dead when Jordan was finished. His eyes rolled back in his head and someone drove a fist into his gut.

“Wake up, dick,” Dagin snarled.

Jordan’s eyes were partially closed as he mumbled in concentration. Sean bit back a moan as the memories of killing Mica ran through his mind. He concentrated on enhancing them, making them more real, more convincing.

Her face as she taunted him...heartless, cold, mocking.

Beautiful.

Fucking bitch. She deserved to be dead.

Jordan smiled faintly when he saw Sean lick her blood and smile.

Yeah, that had tasted good. Sweet, salty, rich. Bitch was good for something at least.

The last of the memories seared him as the invisible vice pressed harder. The pressure against his left eye was making it bulge, distorting his vision. One Jordan became two, then three as his vision blurred.

Breathe, buddy, breathe. You can deal with this. Pain isn’t a stranger. You’re Primani. You’re made for this. Breathe and stay in control. He hung there, blood running down his chin, pain blinding him, yet strangely calm. This is what he did. He would survive.

After an eternity, the memories stopped coming but Jordan left him suspended. His face blank as he processed what he’d seen, he stood shaking with unnatural fury and then vanished.

Dagin stepped over to Sean and smirked. “Well, well. It’s just you and me again,” he glanced around at his soldiers and added, “and a few of my friends.”

With a soft snick, he unleashed the claws from his human fingers one at a time and held them an inch from Sean’s eyes. These claws had practically shredded Mica’s back and ripped out her jugular. Three inches long, black, and wickedly sharp, they only had one purpose.

Sean wanted to rip Dagin’s head off but he was frozen in place. The veins in his arms and neck bulged from the strain of trying to move. His muscles screamed as his
saol
pulsed with urgency. His eyes lit the cave with vivid blue light. Instinctively wanting to annihilate his enemies, his body launched itself into full soldier-mode. The energy made him dizzier. His stomach churned.

Through his teeth, Sean snarled, “You ever hear of nail clippers? You look like a frickin’ woman.”

Dagin’s brown eyes flipped to yellow and the pupils went flat. “Oh, the bitches love my hands; especially yours.”

He dragged one claw lightly around his left eye socket, resting the tip in the corner of his eye. It watered profusely in protest. A little more pressure and warm blood trickled down Sean’s cheek.

Turning to the rapt soldiers, he spoke like a professor giving a lecture. “This is a prime example of the Primani fight response. Notice the eyes. The eyes are your biggest clue. When you’re in the field, you want to watch for the change.” He dragged a claw down the side of Sean’s bare arm and tapped at it. “See the glow? This is the source of their power. Their
saol
.”

“Would you like to see the size of my di--“ His smartass comment was cut off by Jordan’s abrupt return.

“Enough, Dagin! Get back to work.” Turning to Sean, he clasped his hands behind him and said politely, “I appreciate your being such a good sport about this. It’s not every day we have a live Primani with us. You’ve provided Dagin with an invaluable teachable moment.” He cocked his head and added, “I’m sure you understand my need to verify your story. We can’t have you spying, now can we?”

Oh sure, he understood. Fucking Jordan was going down.

“My loyalty’s with you, Commander. I have nothing left in the holy world. Michael betrayed me.”

After what he hoped was a convincing lie, Sean just stared blandly at his new boss and resisted the urge to say something that would get him killed.

Muuuuch harder than it sounded.

Why question him now? He’d been here for weeks...what made him suspicious?

Instead of mouthing off, he studied Jordan. The traitor was calmer now and had been healed. Did he have that power or had someone else done it? The bloody clothes were gone too. Back to his normal impeccably-tailored suits, he was confident and in control again. The nice threads couldn’t fix his skanky hair and skin though. Talk about gross...No amount of soap and water could cure the ugliness of pure evil. He was rotting from the inside and didn’t even sense it. He was too drunk on the power to see the corruption. That’s what evil did...it lured you until you were too far gone to stop. Once it got its hooks in you, it took over like a cancer that you never feel until you drop dead.

How long did Jordan have left? His body was already a shell of what it was before. The holy glow of angel blood was gone, replaced by the corruption of Satan. His eyes didn’t shine with the light of Heaven; their light was sickly and putrid.

How long could he hold on? Who would fill the void? Dagin?

His crazy boss lifted his hand again and Sean dropped to the floor in a lurching crouch. At least he didn’t fall on his face. Rising quickly to his full height, he flexed his shoulders and arms and threw a look of challenge to the soldiers.

“None of that. For Satan’s sake, go shave and get a haircut. You look like a bear. You’re going out in the real world today. We can’t have you looking like that; now can we?”

One minute later, Sean was back inside the dorm room underneath the lab. One of the demons had shimmered him from the underworld and dumped him in the hallway. With a look of pure hatred, he glared at Sean and bared his fangs.

“I should rip your head off and eat your soul!” The gravelly voice matched the ugly mug.

Without even thinking about it, Sean snatched him by his chest and slammed him into the wall with enough force to crack it. The demon hissed and snapped at his face. Sean glanced up and down the corridor and pulled out his Primani blade. One quick thrust in the chest and the sonofabitch was ash.

Whatever.

God, that felt good! He was soooo sick of this Evil Sean act. His blood was fired up with the need to destroy his enemies. It wasn’t natural to live like this. He was Primani--he killed demons for a living. The smell of evil was getting to him, making him edgy. He needed to get this mission done before he got himself scattered again. Shit. That would suck. Big time.

Okay, maybe he could scrape up a little more patience.

Raphael? Something’s happened to J. Do you know what?

A minute or two passed without an answer. Sean stripped out of his reeking clothes and turned on the shower as hot as it would go. Stepping in, he closed his eyes and let the water wash away the blood and sweat. The cut by his eye was still bleeding, so he healed the tiny wound. He flexed his shoulder and realized it hurt like hell. Having done this a million times in the past two millennia, he let the energy heal the torn ligaments and then let it flow through the rest of him. The slight buzz of electricity made him feel better.

Sean? Still there?

Yeah, boss. What’s up?

Good news. Killian retrieved his weapon at great cost to J.

Well, that explains the insanity...

He’s not taking it well.

Are you hurt?

Not anymore.

Care for some news?

Is there more?

Mica’s having triplets. Three boys. Killian fainted. I’m told it was very amusing.

You knew this would happen, didn’t you? You’re more devious than you look, Afriel.

How many times have I asked you not to call me that?

More times than I can count.
Give them greetings from me. I have to go.

Triplets? Niiiice! Man, he’d give anything to see the tough guy faint! That was classic! Someone better have pictures. He plugged in his iPod and cranked up the Godsmack. As “Voodoo” thrummed inside his eardrums, he shaved off the heavy beard in prep for going topside. His hair was way too long; it hung to his shoulders in a heavy black disaster. He grimaced at his own reflection; he looked like a savage, a demon. His teeth gleamed whitely through the darkness as he smiled ruefully. He’d scare people. Can’t have that, now can we?

Beijing, China:

This was a bad idea, he told himself for the thousandth time. He knew he was repeating himself, but couldn’t help it. This was definitely a bad idea. He melted deeper into the shadows as a police patrol strolled past. The two men, both in their 20s, were smoking cigarettes and walking without urgency. Probably taking a break.  He’d gone ghost as soon as he rematerialized but still felt exposed.

It was guilt. The guilt he was trying to silence was nagging at him like a fish wife. Shut up, already, he snapped at his own conscience.

Dimming his eyes, he studied the map of the temple complex, again, and identified his route, again. He was stalling and he knew it. No way he could front himself. He didn’t want to do this.

It was a simple op, really. In and out. Should take ten minutes to set the fuses and then bolt before it blew.

Simple.

Yeaaahh...not so much.

Tian Tan, aka the Temple of Heaven, rose up in great majesty in front of him. It was a breathtaking example of a Taoist temple built back in the early 1400s. It was peaceful and beloved by millions of Chinese for centuries. The artwork was priceless. He’d come to this beautiful temple a hundred times over the years. He loved it, had always felt at peace on the grounds. Now?

Again, this was not a good idea. It was bad with a capital B.

It was his assignment. Damn Jordan.

He stared at the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, the circular building that most non-Chinese citizens of the world recognized from tourism ads.

He was still stalling. After 20 more minutes of staring at the peaceful building, he sighed and shouldered his backpack in the darkness. At least it was night.

No one would be inside.

Dear God, forgive me for what I’m about to do.