Chosen (The Chosen Few Trilogy #1) (36 page)

“
Yeah. Somewhere off the South Dixie. Tell me, Cheyne, why
would
Dementia
ally itself with a being bent on destroying the world it feeds off?
”

“
The entire northern hemisphere
’
s been chewing on that one for months,
”
Cheyne stared out her window at the empty streets. Ken noticed her fingering the platinum talisman that dangled around her neck. The sign of her rank? Her coven? The source of her power?

“
Best guess?
”
Ken asked
.

Cheyne shrugged, not looking at him.
“
Our focus has been on Gorgoroth.
We are
at a loss
. Maybe someone summoned her before all this got started and she found a way to stay. Maybe she was
sent here,
by Astoroth or even Lucifer Himself.  Or maybe she was cast out of Hell, for deeds unspeakable.
”

“Jesus!” Ken gasped. “
Cast out of
Hell?
How could anyone be
that
evil?
”

“
Keep this in mind,
”
Cheyne turned towards him now.
“
Whatever evil we face today, Dementia may yet prove to be the worst of it.
”

Ryan pointed ahead.
“Bay Bridge,” he said. “
There it is. My God.
”

Ken leaned forward for a better look. Before them the Bay Bridge stretched in an S-curve out over Biscayne Bay, ending on a narrow spit of land that was an aquatic preserve. The stretch of road that formed the bridge was called the Rickenbacker Causeway. Ken could see dozens of flashing blue and red lights
strewn along the road
. To his surprise he could also see many figures ducked down behind cars and trucks and concrete walls.

As they drew nearer Ken read their terrified faces. He saw cops, marines and
FBI agents
, shivering in the heat, scared half to death.

“
What are they doing?
”
Ryan
’
s growl betrayed his disgust.

“
Steady,
”
Cheyne told him.
“
Don
’
t forget, their world is in upheaval.
For them, Ubers didn’t exist last week.
Now they are being asked to go up against one of the worst. Slow down.
”

Beyond the cops, a massive struggle was underway. Dozens of men surrounded a very vague figure, something wrapped in darkness and light, something that moved faster than a bullet, deadlier than a blade, and with more menace than a serial killer on his first anniversary.

Then the
shadow leapt
out of
the crowd. Intuitively, Ryan slammed on the brakes. There was a sound like two
monster trucks clashing
as something landed on the hood of the car, crushing the steel and causing the entire vehicle to buckle.

Ken stared with horror into eyes that filled t
he other side of the windshield -
t
he eyes of Dementia, all blood and yellow-shine, slanted and gleaming with death and hate. He had seen her this way before but this time there would be no running away.

Dementia screamed, a note higher than the squeal of a slaughtered pig. She thrust her sword through the windscreen, straight at
Ryan’
s face, but he managed to duck and
fl
i
ng himself
out of the car
door
onto the
asphalt.

Ken jumped out
, letting his short staffs
slide
into his hands. He stepped away from the car to draw Dementia
’
s attenti
on, a voice inside
screaming
what the fuck are you doing?
But
his head and his heart told
him that Ryan and Cheyne ne
eded more
time to prepare themselves.

Dementia snarled and drooled at him, as if sensing a meal.

“
I ssssmellled you,
”
words fell from
the demons mouth like
venomous snakes.
“
I have missssed you beforrre. Twicccce. Thissss time, you are minnnne.
”

Ken thought about everything that had ever meant anything in his life. Didn’t take long. Before now, it had all been fanta
sy. Now d
anger stood snarling before him in its most heinous guise, but if it meant saving his friends he would meet it head on.

He started to twirl the staffs in rhythm, setting up a constant curve of hardwood. His arms lashed out fast, faster, gaining speed and continuance. His eyes never left those of his adversary.

“
Dementia,
”
he hissed.
“
Come get yours.
”

The mad demon leapt off the car faster than human sight, but Ken was trained. And he was one of the Chosen. He
tracked her through
the air
and
w
hen she landed, feet first
,
he struck at that point. His left staff struck her skull, his right staff chopped across her neck, and she
retreated from
the deadly symmetry. Again and again he moved forward, his arms a
blur
and Dementia was forced to catch the blows on her forearms or take them full in the face. Ken didn
’
t give her chance to raise her sword.

Pressing forward was his
only advantage. He was
faster with the lightweight staffs than she
was with h
er sword. He was vaguely aware of Ryan flitting behind her and Cheyne at his own back. He thought Cheyne
was holding something big
,
but
didn’t have time to check.

Dementia
’
s gasps were music to his ears.
Her demonic
eyes blazed
w
ith undiluted hate.

Behind her, ranks of marines and Special Forces were gathering to
watch a
s he forced her back
towards the bridge. He noticed with satisfaction that her arms were already bruised black, and that her face was starting to swell. He made those areas the focus of his
redoubled
efforts.

Dementia took four
quick
strikes in the face, then snarled and kicked out. Her foot caught him in the sternum, making him bend forward. Dementia
’
s swiftly uplifted sword almost cleaved his head in two, but he dodged
wildl
y and she succeeded only in drawing a thin line of blood.

Ken paused for a moment, catching his breath. He had been stupid to think he could press on and finish her there. Dementia was a thousand year old demon, well versed in the art of fighting and subterfuge.

Ken kept up the whirl of wood, taking a breather. Dementia regarded him with curiosity,
no doubt
the same hungry curiosity she would afford a slap-up meal of bloody, raw human.

Then, without warning, Ryan struck at her from behind. Dementia must have caught the movement in Ken
’
s eyes for she jab
bed an elbow back at the precise
moment, one which Ryan ran into.

Ryan!

Ken launched himself forward again
.
Ryan crawled off to one side, his face pouring blood.

Ken struck again and again, and then
realization
hit him. The crazy bitch was
enjoying
this. She loved the feel of the wood striking her flesh, the idea of a worthy opponent. She was drawing it out.

He paused and
stepped back. Dementia grinned at him,
her mouth dripping blood mixed with
thick drool. Her fervent yellow eyes blazed.

“Now you undersssssstand. . . “

Gunshots rang out. Some of the army guys were trying their luck. But
darkness
immediately flowed up around Dementia
’
s
form, absorbed the bullets and then dissipated. The entire process took less than a second.

“
Great body armour,
”
Ken heard himself say
.

Dementia struck, but he was more than ready.
His words had been calculated
to force her into a mistake like this. So when she leapt he side
-
stepped, and brought the staffs down on
her face and
neck and shoulders.

For a second she floundered. Her sword crashed against a railing, slicing off chips of metal and
causing
sparks. Dementia staggered.

Ken’s entire being rejoiced.
Yes!

Cheyne stepped into Ken
’
s line of vision. The object she held in her hand gleamed brightly in the lights that shone from nearby buildings.

A sword.

But not just any sword.

“This sword helped
subdue
the Devil in ancient times,” Cheyne whispered. “And has been
waiting
ever since. For one worthy-”

Dementia swung around
, swiping blindly with her heavy blade
.

Cheyne threw the s
word towards Ken- its blade flickered
through the light and the dark
, throwing
off shards of brilliance.
There was a collective gasp from
watching
cops
.
Ken let both sta
ffs fall to the ground
and caught the sword by the
hilt a split second later. He retreated a bit, now on the causeway proper, on the Bay Bridge itself.

Dementia leapt towards him, hissing like a serpent caught in a trap.
Ken deflect
ed her attack
, slipped it aside
, and struck back.

The clash
of swords echoed across the Bay Bridge and out across the ocean. Miami
’
s warm night air resounded to the clang of tempered metal. Dementia struck again and again. Ken defended for a time, letting her
blows take a
toll on her strength, deflecting carefully and precisely so that every blow she threw sapped her muscles that little bit more.

Another volley of gunfire sounded. Once more Dementia defended it with a dark rush of that mystical armour.

She
had
to be tiring!

Ken heard the chop-chop of helicopter rotors above him. He attacked now, sword swirling in his hands like molten metal, every swift a
rc leaving a blur
in the air that melded with the next and the next and the next. Dementia back
ed
towards the
side
of the bridge, trapped against the railings and the concrete curvature.

The fight was his!

Ken pulled himself out of the zone, stopped and smiled.
“
This one
’
s for Myleene, you crazy bitch.
”

He struck, but Dementia was faster. That second, that
split second,
when he had exited the zone, undid him.

Dementia ducked under his thrust and slid her sword into him, into his stomach. The swiftness of it took him by surprise. He paused,
and
stared into her suddenly grinning face, and then a white heat blossomed from his belly to his brain.

He staggered
. Dementia growled, let out an evil hyena-like laugh and raised her sword. Ken stumbled. Worse than the pain was the very
thought
of being
beaten
by an enemy he‘d already defeated.

Then Ryan was at his side, breaking Dementia
’
s nose with a palm strike
, spinning
and back-kicking her in the ribs. Ken
used the respite to take
a deep breath. He
did
n
’
t feel too bad, under the circumstances. Maybe he
’
d gotten lucky and the steel had only penetrated a few inches, missing his vitals.

Cheyne settled beside him.
“
It
’
s still there,
”
the witch whispered.
“
The victory, I mean.
Use
th
e pain
.
”
She supported him with her shoulders.