Forgiven (38 page)

Riley had seen what happened to one of Lucifer’s demons when it’d stepped on cemetery soil – instant death. This was definitely an Ozymandias special-Hellspawn upgrade.

They can go into churches now. They can anywhere they want.
As her mind catalogued the horrors the city would face, the Three remained outside the circle, treading up and down, looking for a weak spot in the barrier. When it touched the circle, the magic sparked, causing it to whimper and back off.

‘Goddess, it’s ugly,’ Ayden said, wrinkling her face in disgust. That earned her a hiss from the fiend. ‘Hey, I call them as I see them, demon.’

The creature kept staring at Riley and then at the claw, which had finally stopped moving.

Yeah, it’s yours. Shouldn’t have left it behind in my leg.

‘It doesn’t look like it’s dead . . . yet,’ she observed. Not that she could tell by smell. They all stank.

‘It’s not,’ Mort said. ‘The spell has been continually altered and each new incantation demanded greater changes to the demon’s natural behaviour. It’s a very impressive bit of magic even if it is totally evil.’

Riley frowned. ‘But how did he know we were going to be in the cemetery?’

‘It might not have anything to do with us,’ Mort replied. ‘Ozy might have intended it as another breach in the city’s defences. With this alteration, there is no place to find sanctuary.’

‘Goddess, that’s evil,’ Ayden said.

‘Ozymandias is cold and ruthless,’ Mort said, ‘but even this is beyond what I thought him capable of. The magical signature feels like Lucifer’s, but it’s not. I don’t get that.’

Because it’s another Fallen
. She’d been right – Sartael was behind all this. If Hellspawn violated sanctified ground it was a good bet that Heaven would retaliate.

‘Well, we have a demon. Let’s unbind it.’ Another sheet of paper came Riley’s way. There were a lot more words this time, a whole pageful, which told her this one wasn’t going to be a snap.

‘Take hold of the claw and recite the spell, slowly and with great care,’ the summoner said. ‘If you get a word wrong, we’ll have to start over. If we’re still alive.’

No pressure there.

Riley took the claw in her left hand, the one with Heaven’s inscription. Big mistake. The flesh reacted like she’d dipped it in acid. She hastily switched hands and it was fine. Hell’s claw on Hell’s side of Riley. Spell on Heaven’s side. She wondered what the Vatican would think of that.

She took the paper into her left hand and eyed the page: she knew these words, though not in this order, no doubt Mort’s way of keeping her from involuntarily conjuring the spell before they were safely inside a circle.

After a deep, cleansing breath, she began to read the Latin. In reaction, the demon’s pacing increased while it made short, barking sounds. Never having heard that from a Three before, it distracted her and Riley stumbled on a word.

Mort sighed, then said something in Latin. ‘I’ve nullified the spell. Begin again.’

Meum pactum dictum . . .

As Riley started over, a pounding ache formed behind her eyes. The further into the spell she went the more magic warmed her, as if she was standing nude in a desert at midday and each of the sun’s rays was an insanely sharp needle.

She screwed up the fifteenth word in. Mort nullified the spell . . . again.

‘Give me a couple minutes,’ Riley said, her head thumping so hard it made her eyeballs feel like they were about to explode.

‘Not an option,’ Ayden said, her eyes riveted on the stretch of ground behind them. ‘There are more demons coming over the wall now.’

Riley carefully glanced over her shoulder – the movement did nothing good for her headache – and spied the dark figures clamouring over the brick wall. Once they hit the ground, they moved at amazing speed. All had those weird yellow-red eyes.

The radio crackled at her side and she jumped in response. The hunters had spied their enemies and the teams were moving forward.

The demons were at the circle almost before she could take another breath. Instead of howling and launching themselves against it, trying to break it, they shied away when the magic stung their noses.

One of them lifted its muzzle, staring right at Riley. It was a mature Three with the second row of spiky, discoloured teeth. It was still alive so drool cascaded from its mouth. It set up a howl and the others picked it up, like a chorus of rabid wolves.

Riley jammed her hands against her ears, trying to block the sound, shaking from terror that knew no bounds. They’d kill her, Mort and Ayden, and then tear Beck apart and . . . Someone shook her arm, but she ignored it. Then again it came, harder this time.

‘Riley!’ It was the necromancer. When she uncovered her ears, the howling had ceased.

‘I know you’re frightened, but we have to get this done,’ Mort urged. ‘Go slow and ignore them.’

That was impossible.
They
kept staring at her, slobbering and grunting, waving their claws. Guttural voices echoed in her mind, whispering that she was too weak to break their bondage, that they would rip her apart the moment she failed. That it would be better if she gave in and then they’d be merciful.

Like I believe that.

Riley closed her eyes and thought of fluffy bunnies. Rennie, in particular. How Beck truly loved that little rabbit. They’d sit and eat oatmeal cookies while Rennie hopped around them. Maybe then they’d kiss. But the only way that was going to happen was if she completed the spell.

Opening her eyes, Riley concentrated on the words, ignoring everything else around her. There was the sound of claws being honed on headstones, the howls, the constant whispering in her mind. She ignored it all. There was only the Latin, the spell and the talon.

The sentences grew more difficult to pronounce as her mouth grew dry. She didn’t dare pause.
Only a few more
. Then a few more after that.

Riley finally ran out of words, the sheet quaking so badly she could barely keep hold of it.

‘Toss the paper in the air,’ Mort ordered. Up it went and then it burst into pretty blue flames almost like fireworks. Outside the circle the demons watched it burn, then they backed away, grunting.

Did I do it?

Before she could ask, something struck the exterior of the circle like a sledge hammer pummelling an egg. The ground vibrated and nearby headstones shattered, slinging aged spears of stone in all directions. The witch cried out and threw her hands up, pushing back, golden magic arcing against the interior of the sphere.

‘Help her!’ Riley cried.

Mort was already on his feet, adding his own power. The gold and the blue turned to a incandescent green as the magics converged and built up against each other.

It was over as quickly as it had come. When Riley could see through the sphere again, the demons were gone.

‘We did it?’ she said. ‘Oh my God, we did it!’

In the distance there were shouts, then screams of agony. The demons weren’t dead. They’d just gone after weaker prey.

As the teams moved forward, Beck kept at Stewart’s side. He’d like to think it was because he was trying to protect the old guy, but in truth it was more the other way round. Stewart looked impressive in his kilt and he even had a knife tucked into one of his socks. His bum knee was in a brace, which made his movements awkward, but that way he didn’t need a cane. Instead, he had a two-handed sword. A big one. The way he handled it told Beck he’d probably been using the thing since he was a kid.

Harper stood next to them, a steel pipe in one hand and a short blade in the other. He wasn’t moving that fast, not with all the injuries he’d taken over the last few weeks, but he was there and that’s what counted. So were Remmers and McGuire, Jackson and a number of the other trappers. All the hunters were present, even their priest.

‘How many are there?’ Salvatore asked into the radio as he peered up at the sentry positioned in the Bell Tower.

‘At least five dozen or more, sir. They’re still coming.’

‘Sixty plus Hellspawn. I copy.’

‘Sixty? No way in hell we can take that many of them,’ Harper said.

‘No choice,’ the captain replied. ‘We issued the invitation; we have to dance.’

When fireworks erupted into the air near the mausoleum, Beck’s heart clenched in worry.

‘Looks like we’ve got a magical duel on our hands, gents,’ Stewart said.

‘So what do we do?’ Beck asked. He didn’t like this standing around. He’d never liked that before a battle.

‘We keep the beasties busy until they can break the spell.’

‘If they don’t?’ Beck asked.

‘Then we’re out of luck.’

‘Here they come!’ the captain shouted. ‘Work in pairs. Get them down and get them dead.’

As the first wave of demons roared towards them, Beck was stunned by the sight of so many furry bodies intent on carnage. It reminded him of this old movie he’d seen about a bunch of warriors surrounded by all kinds of evil creatures. The fighters had known they were going to die and yet they held their ground. In the end, they’d won because some guy had thrown a magical ring into a volcano. But there was no dude with ring, only a bunch of humans against a legion of Hellspawn.

Today is not a good day to die.

The first Three reared up in front of Stewart. The master shouted something and with a blurring sweep of the mighty blade, the demon’s head flew in one direction and the bleeding trunk in the other.

‘Sweeeet!’ Beck said. He gave a Southern yell of defiance and went for the next demon in line. It took him two hacks, but the thing was finally dead.

‘Sloppy, but ya got potential,’ the Scotsman said. Then he sobered, staring out into the darkness. ‘Ah, dear God, look at all of them.’

Amber-red eyes poured out of the night, moving at incredible speed. Behind there were taller Grade Four fiends. The wave quickly overran the men, slashing at any who got in their way. Screams erupted and there was spotty gunfire, though that wasn’t going to stop the onslaught.

Beck and Stewart put their backs to each other, killing as swiftly as their arms and their swords would allow.

‘There’s no end to them!’ Jackson called out, his face bleeding from a claw slash.

‘Keep fighting!’ Harper shouted, caving in the skull of a Three before it had a chance to gut him.

As Beck struggled to gain his breath, the ground beneath him began to shake.

‘Five!’ someone shouted.

‘Oh my god,’ another called out. ‘There’s more of them!’

Demons swarmed the landscape like locusts, crawling across the headstones and climbing into trees to drop down on those below. Remmers went down, clutching his thigh. Beck struck the nearest demon hard across the neck and it fell. Three steps later, he encountered another one. That one went down too. By the time he’d made Remmers’ position, the wounded man was surrounded by his fellow trappers. Just beyond them were the hunters. They were like Stewart – they knew blades. The captain was fighting two demons at once and holding his own.

Stewart began to sing something under his breath as his sword met flesh and mastered it. A death song? Whatever it was, it stirred Beck’s blood. His soldier’s instincts made him duck as a black sword swept over the top of his head and embedded itself blade deep in the tree behind him. Beck found himself staring up at a Four, desperately trying to extricate its sword out of the bark.

‘Well, aren’t you a beauty?’ he said. The thing began to whisper to him, but he shut it up by introducing the fiend to his steel. It didn’t go down easy, but eventually it joined its comrades on the blood-soaked ground.

Come on, God, we need some help here.

‘But I did the spell correctly!’ Riley protested. ‘Why didn’t it work?’

‘Ozymandias reversed it. If the witch hadn’t set such a solid protective shield, we’d be dead,’ Mort replied, his expression troubled.

‘A compliment, necromancer?’ Ayden replied, her face sweaty from all the exertion. ‘Next you’ll be asking me out on a date.’

‘What do we do?’ Riley said, so rattled she couldn’t get a handle on what was happening.