The Dark Storm (35 page)

Rogue leaned over Flag and smiled. “It ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun, is it?” Rogue had barely had time to savor his victory when pain shot through his skull. A hulking goblin lifted him from the ground by his dreads and shook him violently before tossing him to the ground like a piece of trash. The goblin raised his battle-ax over Rogue’s head for the killing blow and suddenly found his leathery hide pierced with dozens of needle-thin shadows. “I’ve spent more time on the ground tonight than a homeless person.” The shadows lifted the goblin from the ground. “And frankly, I’m tired of it.” At Rogue’s command the shadows tore the goblin to pieces. Unfortunately, the distraction had allowed Flag time to escape.

Gabriel hit the ground in a roll and was back on his feet before he had come to a complete stop. In the dense fog he couldn’t see his hand in front of him, but all he needed was his ears to know what was going on. People were dying left and right and it was all because of him. He wanted to curl up into a ball and pity himself, but the Bishop wouldn’t let him.

“
Licking your wounds in the dark will do nothing to help them, Hunter
,” the Bishop whispered.

“But what can I do?” Gabriel asked in a defeated tone.

“What you have been chosen to do. Stop fighting your destiny, Hunter. Take up your weapon and bathe your enemies in the cleansing light
.”

Gabriel looked at the relic in his hands, which was glowing in anticipation. Images of what he was hearing flashed through his mind like a movie reel. One by one he watched them fall, the elemental, the thug, the demon. The goblins overtook them all. “
My will be done
,” the Bishop said before going silent again.

“Show me what to do,” Gabriel said to the Nimrod. In response the relic flared to life and turned night into day.

Jackson had long been knocked out of the fight, leaving Morgan alone to face off against the goblin prince. The Irishman was bloodied and he felt like he could no longer lift his arms, but he would not let the evil win.

“You are a brave soul, elemental, but your bravery will not save your kin. Lay down and die like the rest of your miserable race.” Orden lashed out with his sword, only to have it blocked by Morgan’s hammer.

“For as long as there is breath in my body I will fight, goblin.” Morgan launched a two-handed strike that Orden easily swatted away. Morgan was so preoccupied with keeping Orden in front of him that he didn’t notice Gilchrest sneak up behind him. The smaller goblin tripped Morgan, making him vulnerable to Orden. The goblin prince made to dispatch Morgan was suddenly blinded by light.

“The sun, impossible!” Orden shrieked, shielding his eyes from the blinding light. Sunlight was the greatest enemy of the goblins, for its rays could turn them to stone.

“Not the sun, goblin, but its rays burn just as bright.”
Gabriel walked towards them, dissipating the fog as he went.

Orden tried to take a step towards Gabriel, but the light was too much to bear. “Back, my brothers, back to the tunnels.” Orden slammed his swords against the ground, splitting it open. The goblins reluctantly abandoned their feeding frenzy and heeded their prince as they escaped into the sewers. Orden looked at Gabriel and warned him, “We will meet again, man-thing.”

“And when that day comes, all who serve the dark lord will feel my wrath.” Gabriel fired a blast of lightning, but Orden had already disappeared down the hole.

“No, not leave Gilchrest!” The smaller goblin pounded his fist against the rubble.

“Not so fast.” Asha worked a binding spell on the goblin. Her clothes were torn and she looked tired, but she had enough strength left to bind the goblin.

“Filthy witch, I’ll eat your eyes!” Gilchrest squirmed.

“I’m sure you’ll try, but not before I pry what I need from you.” She tightened the bands.

“Granddad!” Gabriel called out. He frantically searched the bodies looking for his grandfather. “Has anyone seen Redfeather?”

“They took him,” Lydia said. The girl was still shaken up, but the magical stain had faded.

“What do you mean, ‘took him’? Took him where?” Gabriel asked frantically. He took a step towards Lydia, but Asha stepped between them.

“Calm down, Gabriel. From what she’s told me the goblins took him to someplace called the mountains,” Asha said.

“If he’s a prisoner of the goblins, then my guess is the Iron Mountains,” Rogue offered. He was limping and bloody, but he would heal and when he did he was going to hunt Flag down.

“Fine, then let’s go get him,” Gabriel said.

“You don’t just rush into the mouth of hell half-assed, young man.” Morgan came over. “But rest assured you’ll have another crack at them.”

“I’m sorry, who the hell are you again?” Gabriel snapped.

“They saved our asses when the Stalkers rushed the house looking for you,” De Mona added.

“And had you not dumped this thing in my lap they wouldn’t have been looking for me and my grandfather would still be here!” Gabriel shot back.

“Hey, don’t act like you’re the only one who’s lost something because of the Nimrod. Your grandfather might be missing, but my father is dead thanks to the Nimrod. Had I known what that thing was capable of, I’d have gotten rid of it the moment I laid eyes on it,” she said emotionally. Her eyes welled with tears, but she wouldn’t allow herself to cry in front of the strangers.

“The both of you need to shut up.” Rogue stepped in between them before things could get more heated. He was hurt, tired, dirty, and overall pissed off at the night’s turn of events. “Arguing like two kids isn’t going to find your grandfather, Gabriel. Or bring your father’s killers to justice. We’ve all got a reason to want to be rid of the Nimrod and see Titus’ efforts fail. I think our best bet is to work together to sort this mess out.”

“I agree.” Morgan stepped forward. “The dark agents have taken everything and everyone I’ve ever loved. If for nothing else I will fight in the name of my family.” He put his hand out and looked at the others.

“For my father.” De Mona added her hand.

Gabriel stepped forward and placed his hand on top of hers. The two looked at each other and there was an unspoken truce established. “For my grandfather.”

Asha thought of Dutch and his promise. The mission they were about to undertake would be dangerous, but for
what Dutch had promised it would be worth it. “For my coven.” She placed her hand over theirs.

“For Angelo,” Lydia and Fin said simultaneously, adding their hands to the pact.

“For the hell of it.” Jackson placed his hand in.

This left just Rogue. The mage stood with his arms folded. He had never been a team player, but in light of everything going on, everyone would have to make allowances if they wanted to stop Titus. His eyes lingered on what was left of his Viper for a few moments before adding his hand to the pile. “For my car.”

Dutch’s attention was yanked away from the book he was reading when the mirror that served as the entrance to his office exploded. He covered his eyes to protect them from the spray of glass but felt nothing. He peered from behind his arm to find hundreds of tiny shards suspended all around him. He reached for his desk drawer only to have one of the shards embed itself in the wood just above his hand.

“Who dares to violate my inner sanctum?” Dutch snarled.

“I dare,” a voice called from the other side of the broken mirror. The woman who stepped through stood almost six foot three in her white stiletto boots. Beneath her full-length white fur coat, a pale leather bodysuit hugged her slender frame. The woman’s blond locks were done up in tight curls that crowned her face. Eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean glared at Dutch as the White Queen stood before him.

“Angelique, you have no right to—,” Dutch began but was cut off.

“Stay your tongue, snake.” Angelique waved her hand and the shards moved closer to Dutch. “I have all rights when it comes to protecting the lives of my students and the integrity of this coven.”

“Angelique, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dutch said nervously. He was a powerful warlock, but Angelique was an equally powerful witch.

“Oh, I doubt that.” She perched herself on the edge of his desk. “I’ve had less than two hours of sleep, so I really don’t have time for your bullshit, Dutch. Tonight I lost two of my most promising students, and I have it on good authority that it’s your fault.”

“Two of your girls are dead?” Dutch asked, genuinely surprised.

“As you’ve probably already heard, Sanctuary fell this morning,” Angelique told him, watching for telltale signs that he was lying. Dutch knew this, so he told the truth, or as much of it as he had to.

“I’d heard as much. Does anyone know what happened?” Dutch asked. He had heard varying stories but wasn’t sure which one to go with just yet.

“Some say it was the Stalker, led by that troublemaker Riel. Others say that the goblins had a hand in it. Neither theory matters to me at this point. What does matter to me is that Sulin and Lucy left here together, now Sulin is dead, and I can’t find a sign of Lucy anywhere. From the way things look, she’s likely dead, too. The healer fell victim to a blade; this much I was sure of. But I have reason to believe Lucy fell to magic, blood magic.” Angelique studied Dutch and saw the telltale twitch in his eyes. “From the expression on your face I take it that you know something?”

“Both Lucy and Sulin were here last night, but I cannot account for their whereabouts after they left.” Dutch folded his hands in front of him on the desk and tried to remain as calm as possible, but he had an idea that he knew where Angelique was going with it. He was trying to be calm, but a very ugly scenario was unfolding in his head.

“Liar!” Angelique sent several shards to perforate the
curtain behind Dutch. “We found the body of her familiar, but he’s in some sort of coma and can tell us nothing. Dutch, you’ve known me long enough to know that I am hardly a fool and I will not be played. You sent Asha on some secret errand tonight, what it was I can only speculate, but that’s second on my list of concerns. What I want to know is what happened between Lucy and Asha before the murders?”

“Angelique, you know as well as I do that Lucy and Asha have been at odds since they were children. What’s so unusual about that?” Dutch asked, not really understanding where Angelique was going with this.

“What’s unusual is that my people have found traces of both Lucy’s and Asha’s magic auras at the scene of the crime. Lucy’s was faint, but someone invoked some heavy blood magic,” Angelique informed him. “Only Goddess knows what happened out there, but what you can be sure of is that the deaths of my students will not go unpunished.”

“Agreed. I will mobilize the Hunt to launch a full investigation,” Dutch assured her.

“How convenient; send the perpetrators to cover the crime,” Angelique spat.

“What are you trying to say, Angelique?”

The shards of glass moved when she got up from the desk. “I’m not
trying
to say anything. What I am telling you is that I made a promise to Wanda that I would watch over her daughter and now she may be dead or worse. When we revive her familiar, it will tell us what really happened.” Angelique walked back towards the broken mirror. “Only one of two things can come of this, Dutch.”

“And they are?” he asked defiantly.

“Either you will turn Asha over to me so that we can get to the bottom of this or I will formally bring the Black Court up on charges of treason.”

“My followers will not stand by while you try to have me convicted for something I have nothing to do with,” he threatened.

“Then we stand on the verge of a second parting of the magics. Bring me the killers of my children or prepare yourself for war, good king.” Angelique executed a sarcastic bow before stepping back through the broken mirror. Only when she had exited the Triple Six did the shards of glass fall harmlessly to the ground.

Julius gasped as he woke up from what felt like a bad dream. As the fog lifted from his mind he recalled the events that had unfolded. He was in the fog battling the goblin invaders who were laying siege to Sanctuary. He fought as hard as he could, but there were too many of them. Eventually the goblins had overrun him and the remaining members of the Inquisition, with their blades cutting down the holy men.

Julius went to check the wound he remembered receiving to the gut but found his arm chained. He looked around expecting to see the block where he had watched his friends and enemies slain, but instead there was only the cool darkness of the confined space he was in. Julius jerked frantically at the chain, but it wouldn’t give.

“Those chains were crafted to hold stronger things than you,” a voice called from the darkness.

“Who’s there?” Julius called out.

The darkness opened up and a man stood before Julius. The speaker was dressed in black leather armor, with sandals of the same sturdy material covering his bronze feet to the toes. His head was completely bald, save for a thick black braid that rested on his shoulder. Ghostly white eyes, lined in black paint, studied Julius before the man answered him in a ghostly voice.

“I am called Ezrah, ferryman of the dead, and you are on my ship, the
Jihad
,” Ezrah told him.