Guardians (Chosen Trilogy Book 2) (20 page)

Lilith
worked her way carefully though each deadly circle of hell. Several times she came close to confrontation, to capture, but in all but one of the encounters her assailants either passed her over or walked away. Her father, the Devil, had marked her. Of that there was no doubt. It only remained now to see if she could erase that mark. Escaping the Devil’s clutches would be one of the hardest and most dangerous feats in history, but Lilith was determined to succeed or die trying.

There was no other alternative.

The final level of hell was a mess, awash with a tide of demons and hellish creatures, all awaiting their turn to squeeze through the Miami gate and enter the Overworld: earth. Lilith kept to the low places and shadow as much as she could but even these places were sometimes crawling with vermin, with fell beasts. Her odd encounters continued, and only served to strengthen her resolve.

She would find a way out of this. The denizens of
hell held no sway over her so long as she stayed clear of her mother. And she would. She would become a monument of isolation, a covert queen of indifference. It she didn’t care then nobody could ever coerce her. If she remained alone, they would never force her back.

And they would never find her.

But for now, she needed to escape through the Miami gate and get this artefact to the Aegis organization. Her obligation to Ken and his team. After that, it was onward and upward. Well, at least onward.

Foot by foot, inch by inch, she trudged through the filth toward the gate. She got so close she could see through
it. She saw soldiers on the other side, armed with weapons both small and large, firing round after round into everything that emerged. She saw the growing pile of demonic bodies, half-filling the gateway—which accounted for the awful traffic tailback—and had to admit their plan wasn’t half bad. Block the gate with enough heavy, unmoving bodies and the rest of hell couldn’t get through.

She got so close she could read hotel names beyond the beach, see the star-filled sky and wispy clouds.
She was mesmerized by the vivid lights. The thought of returning to the land of her birth made tears spring from her eyes. And though the Devil had never hurt her, not once tried to corrupt her . . .

W
hy? Oh, why? Oh why? What is your terrible plan . . . ?

S
he knew that she would die before she ever returned to his lair, before being forced to confront him again.

The world was within reach.

And Samael found her.

The great
king of hell, the being that did the Devil’s own dirty work, the monster assassin, rose up before her like the blackest shadow of her life. With wings outstretched and the huge horned head uplifted, he blocked out her view of the gates and freedom. His vengeful darkness encompassed her.

“You have led me a great dance, Lilith, daughter of Lucifer. But that dance is at an end. And nevermore shall you have hope. Nevermore shall you desire freedom. The Lord has spoken. It is time.
Your
time.”

Lilith flicked her head from side to side, a terrified deer caught in the most horrendous of headlights.
My time? What—?

“Come with me now. And embrace your destiny, oh chosen one.”

Lilith felt her heart leap, her breathing jump up into overtime.
Did he just call me chosen one?
Ken had mentioned something about the Chosen on earth, the last guardians, the few men and women with enough power to stop the invasion.

So now there are the Chosen of
hell? Of the Devil?

No
. . . no . . . kill me now.

She ran at him. She kicked and punched.
He didn’t retaliate, but caught her blows easily, letting her tire herself out. When she realized this she turned tail and ran, covering ground fast, topping a hill and racing down the other side.

Thirty feet from the gate.

On the other side, soldiers fired their guns. Fixed armament sent missiles flying into the larger creatures trying to squeeze through. Those that died slumped over piles of the dead, serving only to block the hole. Some stronger demons slipped through, but didn’t appear to possess the intellect to attack their attackers. They raced away, capering into the Overworld.

Lilith
would risk it all then. With Samael flapping over her shoulder, talons reaching for her, she ducked and ploughed ahead. Startled creatures flinched or stared from all sides. The artefact stayed clutched in her hand. Fear and hope bounded around and collided in her chest like playful kittens. The ground was rough, furrowed by hundreds of clawed feet. She fell once, but the action saved her life, sending her body underneath Samael’s swoop.

It bought her precious time.

Then Samael dropped out of the skies, a plunging angel of death. Lilith was now close enough to wave at and lock eyes with several of the soldiers, beseeching them to help. She expected nothing.

But it was only when Samael l
anded on her, scrabbling for purchase, his disgusting demon’s mouth snuffling and mashed across her neck, that she experienced the true heroism of humans and soldiers. One moment she was lost, captured; the next a group of military men burst through the gates of hell, weapons chattering, spewing lead and RPG missiles and hurling stun grenades, forming a phalanx that speared straight toward her.

Samael the great
king of hell rose, shrieking, his bulk the stuff of every man’s nightmare, but they never even flinched. They fought on. They battled. The woman was their goal, the woman in distress.

“She’s one of ours!”
someone shouted and Lilith felt a surge of love, hope and eternal gratitude. She squirmed out from under Samael, pulling free as bullets and rockets stormed into him, hiding his form in a repulsive cloud.

One of ours!

She ran to them and they pulled her among them. They herded and protected her. They formed a circle and put her in the middle, firing, running, staying focused. Now they had to climb a heap of bodies that they had helped make, but their team mates on the other side helped by picking off attacking demons.

Up and up they went. Lilith among friends for the first time in her life and surrounded by people
that cared. That would fight for her.

One of ours.

Suddenly, her objectives took on a new and deeper purpose.

Ken felt a sense of relief when the tournament was called to a temporary halt after the first round. Either the Devil had gotten some news that needed attending to or he wanted the
m to come out fresh and rested in the morning. Either way, the businessman left the arena and the crowd of demons filed away. Ken and his two compatriots were jabbed through a gate toward a row of cells.

With spears, swords, claws and fangs all around, Ken knew there would be no opportunity to escape. Even if Milo was with them and not entrenched in world of grief, even he couldn’t hope to barrel through so many weapons. So there was nothing else for it. Ken let them lock him in his cell.

Only then did he see Felicia led to hers and mashed, inside that cell, into her own small cage. The lycan’s instant moans clawed to the very depths of his heart. He wanted to say how sorry he was, how she should struggle through it.

But he knew nothing about the depths of her torment. He feared he might make it worse.

So Ken sat with his back to the wall and stared at his knees. He listened to Felicia wail and Milo cry. He felt more wretched, more dejected and heartbroken than at any other time in his life. He saw no future, and no victory. The Chosen were lost, their world doomed. If misery and desolation were the basest emotions in the very depths of hell then Ken knew he was there.

The night passed slowly, and there was no relief.

*

Even before the guards
came for them, Ken knew the tournament was being resumed. The swelling clamor from the crowd, the stomping of feet on the bleachers, the baying and howling and demands for blood.

The path was short and their guards forced them along at a fast pace. Even Felicia
, who struggled even to crawl after a night crammed into her cage. Ken stooped and helped her along. The guards noticed that their pace then increased so did nothing to stop him.

Out into the arena they walked, and the crowd cheered. Today they would
bleed. Today they would die. Today they were all Daniel, and this was the worst lion’s den in known history.

Ken thought about home and all the bright things that had ever happened to him.

Now, several minutes later, he faced only darkness and tragedy, about to fight. What would be the ruin of his life stared back at him in the center of the arena. A win would ruin him, a loss would ruin him.

He faced Felicia.

Lysette
managed to relax during the flight from Vienna to Orlando. She even managed to catnap when she’d been told they were being escorted by three American F-16s. Apart from the battle to save their world, that they appeared to be losing, Lucy’s flirtations with a new life, and her mixed feelings for Giles—complex and happy, even hopeful, but always tempered by the awful knowledge that one day she would have to delve through all the corners of his mind and learn what was hidden there—she fought hard with one other, profound problem.

Her
role as one of the Chosen.

So far she could remember only one time when she
’d actually been useful. When she’d unmasked Kasumi, but even then the Destroyer had managed to escape. What worth was a mind-reader among all this madness? Shit, she hadn’t even been able to help Logan’s daughter and turn her away from the dark side. The kid, Ethan, had won her over. And then Ceriden—she was still shocked by his reaction.

As if they didn’t have enough to contend with.

Hours passed. The artefact they’d secured from Abaddon sat between a heavily cloaked Ceriden and Marian Cleaver, the big gun-toting guy from Miami not letting it out of his sight for a second. Only Jade the elf sat in perfect isolation, staring serenely out the round window and never once varying her gaze. Maybe she was meditating, ruminating on the plight of the elves, barely a handful of which had been seen during the last hundred years. Maybe she was thinking about her family. Jade had an older sister called Amber, who was rumored to be joining the Aegis team, but there’d been no sight of her as yet.

Lysette wouldn’t even consider intruding into her thoughts. Not for a second.

The pilot’s voice came over the public address system, speaking clearly. They were about to start their descent through the clouds into Orlando and a warm, sunny day. It felt good to be returning to the group. At least here they could gain some overall clarity, regroup properly, and perhaps formulate a global plan.

She stared through the clouds, spotting landmarks down there. For the first time, from the corner of her eye, she noticed Jade move.

“Call on the pilot to speed up his descent,” the elf said. “Now. And brace yourselves.”

Lysette stared at her, wondering fleetingly if she was joking. Then she saw the
elf’s face.

“And radio the jet fighters
,” Jade said. “We’re under attack.”

What?

Lysette swiveled toward her own window. At first she saw nothing but then, as she stared, a faint shape glided by beneath, almost like seeing a shark glide by when you’re treading water.

Then another.

And then many more. Winged demons. Huge and terrible birds of prey. They flew up toward the plane, wings with a span of a hundred feet beating steadily, an airborne army of devilish destruction.

The F-16s peeled away from the side of the
airplane and engaged. Missiles tore away from their wings at super-speed, breathing fire themselves, and imploded against the upsurging mass. Winged bodies exploded and fell away. Limbs, heads and wings blasted in all directions. Even up here, through the glass, Lysette could hear the demonic shriek, a chorus of the damned, full of anger and hate. The F16s tore through them, then quickly banked, spun and came around again.

Lucy and Ethan ran to a window
, the vampire’s big cloak flapping. Ceriden and Cleaver ran to another, Cleaver picking up the artefact as he went.

“Why?” Lucy asked. “Why now?”

“The artefact,” Ceriden said anxiously. “They have come for it.”

“Crap
,” Lysette muttered. “When we’re two miles high? Crap, crap.”

“Don’t worry
, guys,” Cleaver said consolingly. “The army boys have this. Look at ‘em go.”

Lysette watched as the F16s arrowed in for their second onslaught. The flying horde had come uncomfortably close by now, so close in fact that Lysette could make out eyes
, features and deadly appendages. They swooped, spiraled and glided through the skies, cawing like some prehistoric Pterodactyl only bigger. Lysette steeled her heart against fear.

Another w
hoosh and more missiles departed. The sky detonated into flame, black bodies incinerated, and body parts shattering everywhere, but this time a handful of the demons landed on one of the jet fighters, covering its cockpit window and sitting on its wings. As Lysette watched, one of the demons reached down and tore out part of a jet engine, then tossed it away over its back. The F16 spluttered and faltered in mid-air and, as it went into a dive, the demons flew off, screeching in victory.

Jade raced through to the cockpit. “Radio for more fighters
,” she said. “Now.”

“Already did
,” came the scared reply. “Minutes ago. Should be here soon.”

Lysette watched the F16 plunge straight down. A parachute ejected from the cockpit, but a passing demon saw it and homed in. Then, as the demon attacked, Lysette saw it flinch and jerk as if from handgun fire and fall lifelessly away.

Well done, Fighter Pilot. One for the good guys.

And there were still two F16s up here with them. Rolling and swerving, evading and engaging, they swept
amidst the enemy, using missiles when they could and switching to bullets when they had to. Trails of lead stitched across the clouds and the skies, slamming the enemy into oblivion.

Lysette cheered, but then felt Jade bounce down beside her.

“Look to the horizon,” the elf said, “and brace for what’s to come.”

Lysette let her eyes drift upward.

The skies out there were black. Black with an approaching darkness; a vast, thick darkness of many bodies; a mass, a multitude of winged death; and the sun faded in their wake.

“Oh God
,” Lysette whispered. “Oh God, save us.”