Page 22

Chapter 22

Nathan

Nathan’s heart pounded like a drum, ringing in his ears. Sweat coated his brow, trickling down his spine. The screams and cries of the battle raging nearby twisted his stomach in knots, but he focused on the huddling figures in front of him.

The children.

When he’d rushed from the jail, he hadn’t gone into battle. He’d gone to the dormitory, ushering all the minors from their rooms and leading them, with a handful of the teaching staff who lived in the compound, to the orphanage. Principal Barker had made a break for the school bus, which was now idling on the back side of the building, hidden from the battle.

“There’s not enough room on the bus for all of us,” one of the teen girls murmured, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Yes there is,” he whispered fiercely. “You find a seat and let one of the little ones sit in your lap. It’ll be tight, and maybe some of you have to sit in the aisles if you must, but you’ll all fit.” He looked over at Barker. “Get them to a safe house. Don’t stop for anything. If the back gate is shut, you drive right through it. Understand?”

Barker nodded. “I understand.”

One by one, they ushered the children onto the bus. As promised, the little ones sat in the older kids’ laps. The oldest teenagers sat in the aisle. Everyone was silent. Only soft sniffles and careful whispers filled the air.

On the steps of the bus, Barker turned to look at him, his eyes wide behind his wired frames. “What are you going to do?”

“Go help the others, now that I know the children are okay,” he said, stepping back. “Go, go, go. Get them out of here.”

Barker turned away, closing the bus doors and taking the wheel. Nathan waited, his heart in his throat, until the bus disappeared over the hill toward the back gate. They’d be okay. The demons came from the front. When he could no longer hear the engine, he knew they’d made it, and a sigh of relief left him. It didn’t matter what happened to him now. He could throw himself into the battle, and if he died today, he’d know he’d done the right thing.

He just wished he could see Storm one more time.

He broke into a run toward the administrative building. Before he reached it, the back door flew open, and a blond figure tumbled out onto the grass, his sword flying from his grip. A stranger with black eyes followed him out the door, aiming a handgun at him.

Nathan didn’t have a weapon—he’d left his in his car when he’d brought Weston to the jail earlier that afternoon—so he rushed forward, grabbing the stranger’s wrists and pushing the gun up just as the woman pulled the trigger. She fired into the air rather than at the prone paladin on the ground.

“Sword!” Nathan shouted.

The paladin—Julian Heroux—scrabbled for his sword and lunged toward them, sinking the blade through the woman’s chest. She gasped as the black faded from her eyes. Guilt cut through Nathan, but they didn’t have a choice. It was her or them.

He picked up the handgun. It wouldn’t kill a demon, but it was better than nothing.

“Thanks, Captain Accardi,” Julian said, panting. His body trembled with adrenaline, and a sheen of sweat coated his forehead.

Nathan nodded. “Where are Nicolas and Daniel?”

“I don’t know. We got separated.”

“Okay. Come on. Let’s go help who we can.”

Julian straightened. “Yes, sir.”

Inside, this section of the building was dark. Screams came to them from further down the long hallway, so Nathan led the way toward the worst of it, holding the gun down and ready in front of him.

“Those are possessed people, right?” Julian asked in a hushed whisper as he followed on Nathan’s heels.

“Yeah.”

“So—there are people trapped in those bodies. Each one we kill…”

Nathan turned without stopping, grabbing Julian’s shoulder and squeezing as they drew even with each other. “Don’t think about that right now, okay? We don’t have a choice. If we don’t defend ourselves, they’ll kill us. And if they bring down the guild, countless more will die without our protection.”

Julian nodded, his face twisting. “Right, yeah. It’s just…”

“I know. Survive now. Repent later.” It wasn’t ideal, but they had no choice, did they?

At the end of the hall, debris from upstairs had fallen into the doorway. Between the two of them, they managed to push the doors open, scraping brick and shattered wood aside and clambering over the pieces they couldn’t move.

What once was the grand foyer was now open to the night sky. The front wall was almost completely gone. The upstairs was exposed in two places and seemed dangerously precarious in places. Bodies littered the rubble, and even more were still fighting, the gleam of blades in the last dying light of the sun catching his eye.

Some of the bodies were ripped apart, and possessor demons climbed up the remaining walls, pouncing on paladins below and ripping into them with vicious snarls. Their bodies were emaciated, with leathery brown skin dripping with the blood of the victims they’d climbed out of.

Crumpled amongst the rubble, Nathan saw a familiar face, brick dust caught in his curly hair.

“Judah!” He fell to his knees beside the boy and pulled a heavy wooden beam off his chest.

Judah didn’t respond. Nathan leaned in, feeling for a pulse, and his breath hitched when he found none. He was gone. Another young casualty in this never-ending war.

Nathan dashed a tear from the corner of his eye and stood, rage boiling in his blood. He didn’t have a holy weapon, but the gun could stop the possessed humans. Gritting his teeth, he opened fire. They had guns of their own, using them to pick off the paladins who didn’t have long-range weapons. Julian was nearby, kneeling behind some rubble. When Nathan picked off the shooters near him, he popped up and stabbed another, his face a mask of determination.

In the middle of the battlefield, a lone figure stood still. One of Nathan’s bullets hit him in the chest, but he didn’t react. Black eyes locked onto his, and the strange man smiled. His teeth lengthened into points. The color leached from his skin, turning him unnaturally white. His fingers hooked into claws, and he roared . Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t a possessor.

Nearby, one of the possessed sent a spray of bullets into the crowd. Nathan, barely able to take his eyes off the monster in the middle of the battle, felt a hot ball of fire hit him in the gut. It slammed into him like a baseball bat, sending him spinning to the ground. He lost his grip on the gun and brought his trembling hands to the wound near his hip, shocked to find it sticky with hot blood.

He rolled over, gasping for breath. Pain radiated from the wound like an alarm blaring in his skull. Blood bloomed on his shirt. Shit, this wasn’t good.

His vision blurred, and when he blinked, two familiar figures appeared in the fray. Talon and Shadrach, wielding holy blades, circled the monster. His mind had trouble processing what he was seeing. Talon and Shadrach? In HQ? With holy swords? Maybe he was hallucinating.

Around them, the guns stopped. Everything stopped. The paladins drew up short as the black faded from all the attackers’ eyes. Nathan knew what was about to happen, but he couldn’t seem to draw enough breath to shout out a warning.

Between Talon and Shadrach, the monster laughed, a guttural sound that sent a chill down Nathan’s spine.

“Time to end the fun,” the monster said.

The thing barely looked human anymore, its skin as white as snow. Long, bat-like wings grew from its back. A long, black tongue flicked from its mouth. It looked like a marble gargoyle.

“Step aside, and let me kill them,” the monster said. “They will hunt us no more.”

“No,” Talon said grimly.

The monster tilted its head. “I won’t stop until it’s ash. I promised her.”

“You’d die for Lilith’s vendetta?” Talon asked.

“It isn’t just hers,” the monster replied. “The guild hunts us all. Why would you protect them?”

“I made a promise, too,” Talon said.

“That’s enough talk,” Shadrach said, swinging his sword.

The monster dodged. All around them, the possessed began to scream, their bodies breaking and spraying blood.

“Kill them,” Nathan rasped. He sucked down a breath, wincing in pain, and screamed as loud as he could, “Kill them now! Don’t let the demons out!”

The paladins attacked, and Nathan’s eyes slipped closed.

“Nate! Nathan, oh shit , sunshine,” a familiar voice murmured. A scraping sound against rock caught his attention, and then warm hands cradled his face.

It took incredible effort to pry his eyes open, but whether this was real or imagined, he wanted to see . Needed to see Storm in what might be his final moments. Red eyes filled his vision below a shock of starlight white hair. Thumbs stroked his cheeks, and he smiled.

“Storm,” he breathed. “How are you here?”

“The bad demons got in. You think the good demons wouldn’t come to help?” Storm quipped. He ducked his head, plucking at Nathan’s sticky shirt. “Fuck, you’re bleeding too fast.”

The rapid pop-pop-pop of gunfire made Nathan jerk so hard pain flashed through him.

“Whoa, it’s okay,” Storm said quickly. “It’s Malachi and Wolf.” He glanced over his shoulder, but his broad body mostly blocked Nathan from seeing anything. “They’re helping the paladins, uh, handle the possessors.”

Nathan’s eyes burned. “All those people…”

“It’s you or them, sunshine,” Storm said kindly.

“The monster?”

“Amon, a kalmach demon,” Storm said, glancing away again. “Just as we thought. Shadrach and Talon are handling it. Kalmachs are tough, but I think two leviathans are more than a match.”

“Let me see. I have to see.”

Pursing his lips as though he’d rather not, Storm reluctantly shifted to one side.

Bodies and blood covered almost every surface, it seemed. Malachi and Wolf were both holding guns the possessors had abandoned, picking off the humans that were still writhing on the ground. Paladins were doing the same, ending their suffering with blades and quick prayers. Still others were locked in battle with the possessors who’d escaped. They moved on all fours, dodging blades and swiping at paladins with their claws and teeth.

In the middle of the room, Shadrach had dropped his blade and was grappling with Amon, forcefully wrenching the monster’s arms behind his back. One of his wings had been cut off, and black blood spilled down his back from the stump. Talon lunged forward with a snarl, sinking his borrowed holy blade into Amon’s chest. He roared, thrashing, and Shadrach let him go. He fell to the ground, the strength fading from his body.

It was over. The demons were gone.

No. There were still demons here, and the paladins wouldn’t abide that. Panic surged through Nathan, granting him lucidity.

“Help me up,” he said, gripping Storm’s sleeve. “We have to get you guys out of here.”

“You shouldn’t move?—”

“Up!”

With a growl, Storm pulled Nathan’s arm over his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. The movement sent pain flashing through him, and Nathan hissed.

Just as he feared, Sloan pushed his way through the survivors, his eyes wide as he looked from person to person.

“Demons,” he said, pointing. “Traitors!”

Alex, drifting toward Talon, raised his hands in surrender. “We came to help.”

“You came with the scourge!” Sloan shouted. The paladins shifted around him, wary and confused. “You did this! You helped them get here!”

“We just killed the demon responsible for this attack!” Talon said, gesturing to the quickly decaying body at his feet.

“Lies! Deceit meant to trick us! Paladins, kill them!” Sloan ordered.

Malachi and Wolf raised their guns in warning. Sloan and the rest of the paladins went still, and the rest of the Rink group converged behind Malachi and Wolf.

“Ira,” Wolf called.

“Here, here,” Ira said, darting toward them.

“Storm,” Talon said, gesturing for them to come.

“He’s hurt,” Storm said.

Sloan looked at Storm and Nathan. “Captain Accardi, you need to see Doctor Maxwell.”

“No, we’ll take care of him,” Storm said.

Sloan looked thunderous. “He’s one of us.”

Storm growled.

Nathan’s head lolled. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open. “Don’t. Just take me… Get me…” He didn’t want to stay here. Whatever happened next, he wanted to be with Storm.

“I am,” Storm said under his breath, all but dragging him toward the others. “We’re going.”

“No, you can’t take him!” Sloan shouted. “He needs medical attention!”

“And he’ll get it,” Alex said.

Storm stopped beside Talon and Alex. Nathan tugged his arm from Storm’s grip and reached down, sliding his ring from his finger. There were two of Sloan when he looked over, but that didn’t matter. He could tell Sloan was watching him. He tossed his signet ring to the rubble.

“I quit,” he rasped. The guild was safe. There was nothing left here for him. They could rebuild without him, and he could start his life with Storm.

Storm’s arm tightened around his back. “Let’s go.”

“No,” Sloan called after them. “I don’t accept this! Captain Accardi, if you leave now, you are the enemy ! We will hunt you all down!”

“I’d say you’ve got enough problems of your own right now,” Malachi sneered.

“Go, go,” Talon said, ushering the others away.

Malachi and Wolf backed away, keeping their guns trained on the surviving paladins while the rest of them piled into the cars. Nathan grunted in pain as he climbed up into the cab of the truck and collapsed in the middle seat.

His eyes fluttered shut, and time juddered forward without him. He came to with hands shaking him.

“Wake up, baby. Stay with me.”

“Mm,” he managed to say.

“Give him your blood,” another voice said from his other side. Ira?

“What about the bullet?” someone asked.

“Ira, hop out,” Storm said. “Let’s lay him out. Someone will have to dig the bullet out.”

That didn’t sound good. Nathan tried to open his mouth and speak, but nothing came out. He wasn’t sure he even moved. A car door opened, and a cool breeze touched his skin. Hands tugged him to lay flat, and the movement sent pain up his abdomen and all the way down to his knee. He groaned.

“I know, baby, I know. Just hang on.”

“God, that’s a lot of blood.” He recognized that voice, too. It was Luke.

“Luke, go around and hold his arms down. This is going to hurt, and he might react.”

“Are you sure you want to be the one to do this?” Ira asked.

“Yeah. I’ll make it as quick and painless as I can.”

“St…” Storm , he tried to say. “P…” Please .

“I’m here, sunshine. Here we go. Try to hold still.”

Pain lit up his side. There was a weight on his legs, hands on his arms. He tensed, but he couldn’t shake any of it. A choked sound left him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t unlock his body enough to expand his lungs. He was dying, this was what dying felt like, and it hurt hurt hurt .

It seemed to go on forever, until his head swirled and everything faded. And then…

“I’ve got it!”

Some of the pain faded—enough that he was able to breathe—and he blinked his eyes open, panting.

“Storm,” he breathed. “Storm.”

“Here, sunshine.” Storm leaned over him, a knee wedged between Nathan’s legs.

“Give him your blood now, hurry,” Ira said. “And be prepared for him to pass out. He lost a lot of blood, but if you give him yours it’ll help him recover.”

Storm’s hands guided his fuzzy gaze to his. His jaw flexed, and then he sealed their lips together, pressing his tongue inside Nathan’s mouth. A strangely sweet liquid filled his mouth, and he swallowed reflexively. Incrementally, his mind began to clear, the darkness around the edges of his vision faded, and he felt more grounded in reality. He raised a hand to cup the back of Storm’s head, kissing him back properly.

When Storm parted, he studied Nathan’s face intently for a moment, and then smiled. He glanced down at the bullet wound and hummed.

“Wonderful. It’s closing up.”

“It is?” Nathan asked, letting his head fall back onto the seat.

“Yeah. Think you can sit up? We need to get you home. We’re still too close to the guild.”

“They won’t come after us right now.” His tongue felt too large, causing him to slur. “Too many dead. Too much damage. They have to pick up the pieces.”

“Still. I’d rather you pass out in a bed.”

“Bed would be nice,” Luke added from the backseat.

Nathan sighed. Sitting up would take monumental effort. He held out his hands. “Help.”

Storm pulled him upright, and he sagged, his head swirling.

“Scoot into the middle. You can lean over on me.”

Nathan glanced around the truck as he scooted over. Malachi, Luke, and Wolf sat in the backseat. Ira climbed into the passenger seat, offering him a reassuring smile, and Storm took the wheel once more. His beefy shoulder looked far too inviting to resist. He leaned over—and knew no more.