Fallen (31 page)

The rage was building in Sinister’s face,
his own blood infusing his skin with unbridled fury.

“Take me to her,” he commanded.

Miles was unsure whether this might somehow
backfire on him but too fearful to refuse. He led his prince across
London to the warehouses. In his rage, the raven threatened to
overtake and outpace the crow. Miles could barely manage to stay
ahead of him. He only hoped not to be implicated in the matter when
blame began to drop. The idea of facing either Black, or Sinister
had little appeal.

When Sinister landed among the vampires left
guarding the warehouses, Miles noticed the confusion of faces
around them. Black had told them about Tom impersonating Sinister
before. Was this the true prince of the vampires, or another
imposter? Still, they didn’t seem eager to find out.

None of the Breed dared to oppose Sinister
as he marched through them, following the scent of his sister.
Miles followed along behind him. What else could he do? He had
opened Pandora’s box. He could only wait to find out what happened
now.

Charlotte noticed the familiar scent of her
brother moments before the door to her cell was smashed in.
Sinister stood on the other side with his right foot still hanging
in the air where he had kicked it. Not even this commotion was
enough to wake the mortal gentleman from his blood-loss-induced
slumber.

The look upon her brother’s face when he saw
her was a mixture of rage and complete horror. He laid his eyes
upon here many cuts and bruises. The foul stench of excrement would
have also assaulted his senses even before the door was opened.
Despite her innocence in the matter, Charlotte felt ashamed for him
to look upon her in this condition.

“What have I done?” he asked himself.

Sinister stepped into the cell. A flourish
of his cloak produced a silver sword. Charlotte recognized the
weapon as the same one given unto him by their father many years
ago. She wasn’t sure if he intended to end her imprisonment or her
life.

He slashed at the cords binding Charlotte to
the stone walls. The silver cut through her bonds like butter. As
gravity took control, Charlotte collapsed to the floor. Having had
little food or water, she felt as weak as a kitten.

Sinister caught her immediately, cradling
her like a child. “Sister, forgive me,” he whispered.

Charlotte looked into her brother’s face,
finding guilty tears in his eyes. He scooped her into his arms and
turned toward the door.

“I’ll get you back to our father,” he
said.

He strode down the dingy corridor then out
into the openness of the warehouse. All around them, Breed warriors
had gathered. All eyes were upon Sinister and Charlotte now, though
no one stepped forward to interfere with his rescue effort.

In return, he shot them all icy looks of
bitter contempt. Not only had they all betrayed their own people,
they had betrayed him as their prince. Miles stood by
anxiously.

“We must leave quickly,” he said, peering in
every direction.

Charlotte knew exactly who the young vampire
must be looking for, and they were not to be disappointed. A small
spark of flame ignited upon the concrete warehouse floor. It bobbed
about like a fiery cricket attempting madly to extinguish
itself.

Sinister stopped in his tracks before the
little hopping flame. He set Charlotte upon her feet then stepped
in front of her protectively. Drawing his silver sword, he
waited.

“Brother, we must go,” she said from behind
him, but he would not budge.

“Miles, take my sister and go,” Sinister
said. “As for me, the time has come to end this.”

Miles stepped toward Charlotte. The little
flame erupted into much more, becoming as large as a man. Sinister
raised his sword as Black stepped from the flames, holding the fire
still in his upturned palms. Miles transformed into his crow as
both Sinister and Charlotte evaded jets of flame thrown by Black.
The crow was engulfed and devoured by it while brother and sister
found momentary safety.

“Go, Sister!” Sinister cried as he charged
Black.

Charlotte was too weak to stop his endeavor.
A quick transformation to raven form saved her from bolts of
lightning thrown haphazardly from Black’s fingertips as he
attempted to evade Sinister’s attack. She tumbled midair then shot
upward toward one of the windows. Fearful and trembling, Charlotte
launched out of the warehouse while a thunderous cacophony
resounded below. Her brother had finally turned against Black in
order to save her. Had it been possible, the raven would have wept,
knowing that her brother would very shortly die having rescued
her.

Sinister circled Black like a panther, his
silver sword having already absorbed a great deal of the angel’s
lightning. This elegant weapon had been crafted by elves long ago,
sealed with magical bonds, and had been given unto him by his
father. It had some ability to do damage to Black, but the fact
that an angel could not be killed was not lost on him.

“So, your rebellion has finally come?” Black
said, laughing.

“For your attack on my sister, I would kill
you if it were possible,” Sinister said. “But these warriors of the
Breed should also know how you sacrificed their brothers knowingly
when you destroyed the home of Oliver James. You did not even have
compassion toward those who fought for your cause.”

“Did you honestly expect compassion?” Black
asked, amused.

“I was deceived by you in life, but now, in
my death, I see you clearly,” Sinister said.

Black was about to attack and end this
vampire’s ramblings when he noticed the subtle movements of the
Breed warriors around him. All of the vampires had closed in,
encircling him and Sinister.

“All of you?” Black asked.

Sinister smiled as he surveyed the scene.
They had been entirely surrounded, and the Breed did not look
pleased to hear what their angelic leader had done to their fallen
comrades.

“You will not use the Breed any longer,”
Sinister declared.

“You’re a fool if you think so,” Black
countered.

A single glance to his vampire warriors was
all that it took to initiate their attack. The Breed rushed in upon
Black while he made no real effort to stop them. Sinister came
through them with his sword ready to strike. He drove the blade
through Black’s chest, feeling intensely satisfied by this
revolution. But it was short lived.

A vacuum of immense power sucked the
vampires in upon the angel, like the gravity of a black hole
drawing stars to their doom. Crushed by his power they formed a
tortured mass of writhing flesh. A white hot discharge of energy
enveloped them all, incinerating everyone and everything in its
path, consuming even the warehouse around them.

A few ragged charred remnants remained of
the building along with a fresh crater in the earth. Of Sinister
and the vampires with him, not a trace remained to their existence.
Alone, Black walked through the red hot embers of destruction. Not
a speck of dirt adhered to him in his tailored suit and top hat.
Not a trace of any wound could be found to suggest anyone had
attacked him at all.

By far it is easier to come up with a plan
of action than it is to actually carry it out. Such was our
dilemma. The mysterious
good
angel had arrived just in time
to stop the ceremonial dagger that would have ended Oliver’s life.
He had also suggested another way to deny the burlap dolls their
spell key, as well as a means of ridding humanity of the fallen
angel controlling them. But all of these wonderful events happened
to hinge upon Oliver James consigning himself and Black to the
spiritual prison of Tartarus.

Our group had settled upon the plinth inside
Lycean’s memorial temple. Above us, the blue flame burned silently,
illuminating the entire sphere. Oliver was resigned to his fate.
Considering what we had almost done in our attempt to kill him, we
could no longer brook any argument for his well being. We had one
problem left, however.

“I just don’t see how we can find him,”
Lycean said.

“Perhaps issue a challenge?” Sophia
suggested.

“If he knows we want him to come, he’ll
never show up,” Oliver concluded. “An angel thing, I suppose.”

“We might attack the dolls?” I offered.

“But he knows they are spellbound to this
world as long as I’m alive here,” Oliver said.

“Besides, my Lycan brothers and sisters
destroyed far more during our attack than we could hope to manage,”
Lycean said. “Black never showed his face at all.”

“And I’ll pass on the torment caused by
attacking those dolls, thank you,” Oliver added.

“Then what can we do?” Sophia asked. “Is
there nothing he cares about?”

Silence.

“What about the city?” I asked.

Oliver turned to me. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he took control of the city for a
reason,” I ventured. “For whatever reason, he must want it.”

“But his dolls are running amok, causing all
kinds of damage,” Lycean said. “He doesn’t seem to mind that.”

“At the very least, we might get his
attention,” I said.

“What are you suggesting, Brody?” Oliver
asked.

“Set fire to the city.”

I never would have proposed such a drastic
plan of action, had it not been for the dire circumstances. But it
just seemed to make sense. If we failed to rid the world of Black
and his dolls, there would be no humans left alive in London
anyway. And even if Black did not care for the city’s real estate
value, he might still show up for curiosity’s sake. That would be
enough for what we hoped to do.

Lycean had offered the help of his army in
order to do the job of arsonist right, but ultimately we wanted
Black to come to Oliver, not some random place where fires were
being set by numerous people. So, we rejected that idea in favor of
doing the job ourselves. Neither Lycean nor Sophia had the natural
ability to start the fires, but they weren’t going to be persuaded
to leave us either.

“Where do we begin?” I asked Oliver.

“An important place would be best,” he said,
“one with a lot of his dolls present to be sure he’s aware of what
we are doing. Westminster Palace should do nicely.”

By the time we returned to the mortal world,
it was very dark with a clear sky and a waning moon. Oliver had
opened our portal in central London where we walked out to
Westminster Palace. With the Thames at our backs, I spotted the
Victoria Tower far to my left and the Clock Tower rising before us.
The grounds were lit, but had likely remained that way all through
the day since the grounds keepers were likely either dead or
captured.

“Where should we start?” I asked Oliver.

“We should stay together, certainly,” he
said. “I think the clock will do since we are nearby already.
Should any resistance come our way, use the Extension techniques I
taught you.”

“What should we do?” Lycean asked.

“Watch for dolls and keep away any that you
can, while we get the fires going,” Oliver said. “However, do not
make any attempt at attacking Black.”

“I’ll distract him while you perform the
bonding spell,” I offered.

“Just be sure that you maintain the
Extension to protect yourself,” Oliver warned. “The bond should be
an easy matter since he has already provided the link to himself
through his spell key conjurations. Otherwise, I’m not sure I could
get past his wards in order to perform it.”

I clapped my hands together once. “Right.
Let’s get started then.”

I waited for Oliver to go first. It seemed
appropriate, after all. His Extension bubble formed instantaneously
while Lycean and Sophia took to their werewolf forms. I was
slightly rattled by watching Sophia’s transformation, having never
actually been witness before. She became an elegant creature, not
quite as powerful in appearance as her father, but deadly
nonetheless. They broke away together in order to keep watch over
us from a better vantage point.

Oliver pushed through his bubble, creating a
ball of fire that shot away toward the Clock Tower. It hit one of
the four faces, shattering most of its milk glass and scattering
the flame within. Several successive blasts intensified the damage
and the fires beginning to take control within the bell tower.

Having not done balls of fire before, I
opted for a flashier approach at destruction. My Extension formed
around me, giving off its nominal azure hue. I conjured lightning
strikes which emanated from several locations on the bubble’s
surface, striking the tower. The immediate damage was more, but the
burning less. I glanced at Oliver to find him hiding a grin.

“All right,” I said, realizing that flashier
might not be better to the task.

Next, I released a flame that hit the base
of the tower. Taking hold, fire began to work its way upward.

“Much better!” Oliver said over the
noise.

We continued with this method, and after
several minutes had not only the Clock Tower burning nicely, but
also a fair portion of one of the palace wings as well. Up to now,
we had seen no resistance. But that was about to change.

I heard sounds of fighting as I paused to
pick a new target. Dolls by the hundreds boiled out of the windows
of the Westminster. Lycean and Sophia had already gone on the
attack, hoping to give us time, but it would not be enough. So many
dolls had already run around them.

We remembered too late the effect this
fighting would have on Oliver. He was holding on, but in pain
already.

“Tell them to break off!” Oliver cried from
within his Extension.