Page 80
Story: Soulmarked
“They were already dead,” I finished, the words tasting like ash. “And I was marked.”
“Yes.” Sterling's eyes held a pain I'd never seen before. “Finding you in that alley, seeing what had happened... I couldn't stay with Hallow after that. Couldn't keep fighting their war when I'd failed to protect my own.”
“So you joined CITD instead,” Alana said softly. “Traded one war for another.”
“I made sure I was placed where I could watch over you,” Sterling told me, his voice thick with emotion. “Where I could prepare you for what was coming, even if you didn't know it yet.”
“As touching as this family reunion is,” Sean's voice carried an edge of urgency, though he stood close enough that his arm pressed reassuringly against mine, “can we get back to the part about a Prince of Hell walking the streets of Manhattan? Preferably with a plan that doesn't end with all of us dead?”
“Right.” Alana spread more pages from O'Brien's journal. “According to this, Phoenix isn't just trying to summon Asmodeus. They're trying to bind him. Use his power to open gates for something even worse.”
“The First,” Sterling said grimly. “They want to use a Prince of Hell to break the seals keeping the First contained.”
My head spun with implications. “But that's suicide. You can't control a Prince of Hell. The attempt alone would...”
“Tear reality apart?” Sterling's smile held no humor. “Yeah, well, welcome to Tuesdays in our line of work. And I think that might be exactly what they want.”
I stared at the journal pages, seeing the patterns with new understanding. All those deaths, all those marked victims, they weren't just sacrifices. They were components in something bigger. Something apocalyptic.
“How did O'Brien figure this out?” I asked, needing to focus on practical details before the scope of what we were facing overwhelmed me.
“Because he helped design the initial summoning circles,” Alana said, highlighting specific passages. “But when he realized what they were really planning, he tried to back out. That's why they sent demons after him.”
“The Guardian wasn't just running a protection racket,” Sean added, studying the decoded text. “He was trying to warn people. In his own twisted way.”
Sterling stood abruptly, moving to another safe hidden behind a different painting. “There's something else you need to see. Something your parents left for you, in case...” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “In case you ever had to face what they did.”
The safe opened silently, releasing air that smelled of ozone and ancient power. Sterling removed a long case made of dark wood, its surface carved with protection sigils I'd never seen before.
“Your father spent years creating this,” Sterling said softly, gentleness replacing his usual gruff demeanor. “The materials alone nearly got him killed half a dozen times.”
The case opened with a whisper of well-oiled hinges, revealing something that made Sean inhale sharply. The whip lay coiled like a sleeping serpent, its surface seeming to shift between silver and something darker, more ethereal.
“Holy shit,” Lex breathed, leaning closer but careful not to touch.
“Silver from the Vatican's oldest vaults,” Sterling confirmed, pride evident in his voice. “Woven with fragments from Halley's Comet and strands from an angel's bow. Your mother had connections in places most hunters never even dream of accessing.”
I reached for it hesitantly, feeling power radiate from the weapon before my fingers even made contact. The moment I touched the handle, something clicked into place, like finding a piece of myself I hadn't known was missing.
“They designed it to kill creatures beyond human comprehension,” Sterling continued, watching me test the whip's weight. “Theoretically, it could take down almost anything. But they never got the chance to test it against something like Asmodeus.”
“Let me guess,” Sean said dryly, “the power required to even wound a Prince of Hell could burn out whoever's wielding it. Because nothing in our lives is ever easy.”
Sterling nodded slowly. “Your father called it Heaven's Lash. Said it was insurance, in case the worst ever happened.” His expression darkened. “I suppose the worst is finally here.”
I let the whip uncoil slightly, watching silver light ripple along its length. The power humming through it resonated with my mark in ways that were both thrilling and terrifying. This wasn't just a weapon, it was a legacy.
“Well,” I said, carefully recoiling the whip, “at least we're not going after a Prince of Hell empty-handed.”
“Just possibly suicidal instead of definitely suicidal,” Lex muttered. “Great improvement.”
“I've had worse odds,” Sean said with a grin that didn't reach his eyes, clapping me on the shoulder. “At least the company's decent this time.”
Sterling leaned back against his desk, looking more tired than I'd ever seen him. “Look, there's something else you shouldknow. About what Phoenix is really planning, about why your parents were targeted.”
The mark on my chest throbbed steadily, like it knew what was coming. Sean shifted closer to me, his presence solid and grounding as Sterling continued.
“Phoenix isn't just trying to open a gate to Hell,” Sterling's voice carried the weight of terrible certainty. “They're trying to break the walls between all realities. And they need someone marked by both sides to do it.”
“Yes.” Sterling's eyes held a pain I'd never seen before. “Finding you in that alley, seeing what had happened... I couldn't stay with Hallow after that. Couldn't keep fighting their war when I'd failed to protect my own.”
“So you joined CITD instead,” Alana said softly. “Traded one war for another.”
“I made sure I was placed where I could watch over you,” Sterling told me, his voice thick with emotion. “Where I could prepare you for what was coming, even if you didn't know it yet.”
“As touching as this family reunion is,” Sean's voice carried an edge of urgency, though he stood close enough that his arm pressed reassuringly against mine, “can we get back to the part about a Prince of Hell walking the streets of Manhattan? Preferably with a plan that doesn't end with all of us dead?”
“Right.” Alana spread more pages from O'Brien's journal. “According to this, Phoenix isn't just trying to summon Asmodeus. They're trying to bind him. Use his power to open gates for something even worse.”
“The First,” Sterling said grimly. “They want to use a Prince of Hell to break the seals keeping the First contained.”
My head spun with implications. “But that's suicide. You can't control a Prince of Hell. The attempt alone would...”
“Tear reality apart?” Sterling's smile held no humor. “Yeah, well, welcome to Tuesdays in our line of work. And I think that might be exactly what they want.”
I stared at the journal pages, seeing the patterns with new understanding. All those deaths, all those marked victims, they weren't just sacrifices. They were components in something bigger. Something apocalyptic.
“How did O'Brien figure this out?” I asked, needing to focus on practical details before the scope of what we were facing overwhelmed me.
“Because he helped design the initial summoning circles,” Alana said, highlighting specific passages. “But when he realized what they were really planning, he tried to back out. That's why they sent demons after him.”
“The Guardian wasn't just running a protection racket,” Sean added, studying the decoded text. “He was trying to warn people. In his own twisted way.”
Sterling stood abruptly, moving to another safe hidden behind a different painting. “There's something else you need to see. Something your parents left for you, in case...” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “In case you ever had to face what they did.”
The safe opened silently, releasing air that smelled of ozone and ancient power. Sterling removed a long case made of dark wood, its surface carved with protection sigils I'd never seen before.
“Your father spent years creating this,” Sterling said softly, gentleness replacing his usual gruff demeanor. “The materials alone nearly got him killed half a dozen times.”
The case opened with a whisper of well-oiled hinges, revealing something that made Sean inhale sharply. The whip lay coiled like a sleeping serpent, its surface seeming to shift between silver and something darker, more ethereal.
“Holy shit,” Lex breathed, leaning closer but careful not to touch.
“Silver from the Vatican's oldest vaults,” Sterling confirmed, pride evident in his voice. “Woven with fragments from Halley's Comet and strands from an angel's bow. Your mother had connections in places most hunters never even dream of accessing.”
I reached for it hesitantly, feeling power radiate from the weapon before my fingers even made contact. The moment I touched the handle, something clicked into place, like finding a piece of myself I hadn't known was missing.
“They designed it to kill creatures beyond human comprehension,” Sterling continued, watching me test the whip's weight. “Theoretically, it could take down almost anything. But they never got the chance to test it against something like Asmodeus.”
“Let me guess,” Sean said dryly, “the power required to even wound a Prince of Hell could burn out whoever's wielding it. Because nothing in our lives is ever easy.”
Sterling nodded slowly. “Your father called it Heaven's Lash. Said it was insurance, in case the worst ever happened.” His expression darkened. “I suppose the worst is finally here.”
I let the whip uncoil slightly, watching silver light ripple along its length. The power humming through it resonated with my mark in ways that were both thrilling and terrifying. This wasn't just a weapon, it was a legacy.
“Well,” I said, carefully recoiling the whip, “at least we're not going after a Prince of Hell empty-handed.”
“Just possibly suicidal instead of definitely suicidal,” Lex muttered. “Great improvement.”
“I've had worse odds,” Sean said with a grin that didn't reach his eyes, clapping me on the shoulder. “At least the company's decent this time.”
Sterling leaned back against his desk, looking more tired than I'd ever seen him. “Look, there's something else you shouldknow. About what Phoenix is really planning, about why your parents were targeted.”
The mark on my chest throbbed steadily, like it knew what was coming. Sean shifted closer to me, his presence solid and grounding as Sterling continued.
“Phoenix isn't just trying to open a gate to Hell,” Sterling's voice carried the weight of terrible certainty. “They're trying to break the walls between all realities. And they need someone marked by both sides to do it.”
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