Guardians (Chosen Trilogy Book 2) (7 page)

Dementia crawled out from beneath the destroyed wall. Milo pounded her with both fists. Ken saw her stagger and snarl in pain. He wondered now where the artefacts were. Would they get a better chance than this?

Then Rapatutu jerked his sister away, his strength yanking her out from underneath Milo’s bulk. With dancing fingers he threw up a smoke shield, a dense fog only inches thick but enough to bamboozle the three vampires. Ken and Felicia could see only because they were higher up. Ken distinctly heard Dementia’s sneering, slurred words as she was dragged away.

“Not overrrrrr. Not at alllllll.” Then she whippe
d her pack around, the one in which she’d deposited her new acquisition, and gripped its neck hard. “We have both arrrrrtefactsssss now and will give them to
Him.
In the Pit.”

Ken dart
ed forward. Felicia stopped him with a grip of iron, not even reprimanding his rashness.

Helplessly, he watched as the two demon-bitches rushed away.

I listened intently as my colleagues threw suggestions at the Text of Seven and came up blank. The text was vague, no doubt intentionally, and required several more breakthroughs before we could pin anything down. I knew time was of the essence but I found my thoughts drifting toward Lucy and this crazy new life we’d found ourselves living.

It came as a surprise when Cheyne’s phone
rang and a frantic female voice shouted so loud we could all hear her.

“
Dammit! It’s all gone to hell here!
”

I sat upright in my chair.

Cheyne said, “Kinkade? Is that you? What’s wrong?”

“Who the hell
’s Kinkade? This is Leah Aldridge and I’m calling to . . . well, I don’t know why I’m calling actually? Who is this?”

“A friend
,” Cheyne said carefully. “Is everything okay, Leah?”

This was the first time we
’d heard from the ancient gargoyle since the Miami Beach showdown. I remembered that one of the conditions of securing Kinkade’s help was that he be allowed to spend a year inhabiting the body of a movie star. The list had been narrowed down, mainly by Ceriden, to three of the most likely. In the end Kinkade had chosen the body of a famous Victoria’s Secret model—Leah Aldridge. So, unbeknown to the model, the prehistoric spirit of the gargoyle was currently experiencing everything it could never hope to feel through her eyes. Our group had been upset to lose Kinkade’s help, especially at this vital time, but had to honor the deal in the hope the gargoyle would help in other ways.

We had not expected to hear from him for some time.

And this was the strangest way possible. Kinkade was using Leah to contact us, somehow forcing the thoughts into her brain and manipulating her like a puppet. I forgot about how odd it must feel to her and concentrated on the real question.

“What’s so important that he would risk contacting us so early?”

Cheyne listened as Leah Aldridge spoke to her. The witch had switched the call to speakerphone.

“Our new line is premiering in Paris right now. The show
’s underway. Catwalk’s hopping and the soundtrack is live. Front row is full of the usual gaggle of film stars and journalists—”

We knew this was all coming from Kinkade’s mind, not Leah’s, and he simply told it as he saw it.

“. . . questionable musicians. Writers. The show is at capacity. But there’s a man in back. A tall man wearing a black coat—a full-length jacket. His face is in shadow, but I see him. I recognize him. I have seen this devil before.”

Cheyne’s eyes widened. “Who
do you see?”

“The demon. Beelzebub.”

Cheyne gasped. My eyes widened so fast it hurt. Beelzebub was the first demon of the hierarchy, and the most powerful and the most evil, second only to Lucifer himself. Was the demon there to grab an artefact? Or watch Kinkade? Or for something else entirely?

Leah’
s voice cut across our thoughts. “He is studying the place as he studied once before. He is sly, calculating, vicious. He watches and takes everything in. He watches and chooses a victim. He watches and fantasizes about havoc.”

I listened. I thought Leah
herself must be having major doubts about what she’d eaten previously this day. Maybe she would think someone had slipped her something. Not nice, but what was the alternative? To believe she was possessed?

“He gazes backstage as if
. . . as if . . . I see longing on his face! Frustration. This demon desires something it can’t yet have.”

Cheyne gave us all a stare. “Where exactly are you?”

“The Louvre. Well, outside. By the glass pyramid.”

Giles spoke up. “So I’m assuming Beelzebub is there to retrieve an artefact from the museum. Perhaps the sheer volume of people present is stopping him. How many are
there?”

“Oh,” Leah said. “At the show
—hundreds. But gathered to watch around the square—could be thousands.”

“That’s it then
,” Giles said. “It seems that there’s a limit as to how much death and destruction they are willing to cause, at the moment at least.”

“Until they gain more than just a foothold
,” Cheyne said. “Once they recite the chant and open all seven hellgates . . .” She didn’t need to continue.

“So stop wasting time
,” Belinda said. “And let’s go to Paris.”

Cheyne nodded. “Hold on Kin
. . . Leah. We’re coming to you. At least some of us are.”

*

The parting was harder than anyone thought, especially for me. It soon became obvious that I, being one of the vanguard members of the Chosen Few and the only one now surviving, would have to go to Paris and Lucy should stay. Not only that, she wanted to stay. Of course she did. I knew why, but I let my judgment be clouded by the job at hand, and its clear necessity. We
had
to go to Paris, and against Beelzebub only our most powerful would stand a chance. So, in addition to me it was Cheyne, Giles, Tanya and Belinda. And Natalie Trevochet insisted on coming too. A fast, hard trip would help divert her mind, she said.

That left Lucy and Ceriden, the vampire kid Ethan, Lyset
te, Cleaver and Jade to continue the hunt locally for Asmodeus. Of course, the demon might not stick around now that it had the artefact but we couldn’t know for sure.

I walked over to Lucy as Giles hugged Lysette. Goodbye was never going to be easy. I made it as caring as possible without going over the top. My daughter clung to me hard, and that almost unmanned me. It was times like these when you really got those feelings
—the ones that existed deep down and wrenched at your heart and soul every time you thought about all the terrible things that could happen to your loved ones.

Ceriden watched me over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Dean. We will look after her. And I’m jealous.
You
heading for a fashion show in Paris and
me
stuck here in Disneyland. Doesn’t seem right somehow.” He sniffed.

“It’s territorial.” Giles affirmed. “You vamps hate it when a significant other drops by unannounced.”

“Of course. It’s true. Strahovski has Europe.”

I stared over at Ethan. “
Watch,” I said firmly. “Don’t touch.”

He almost smiled, then thought better of it. Maybe the kid did have some brains. I held Lucy’s shoulders and gave her a warm smile.

“Be back before you know it.”

She nodded, unable to speak and I knew, just
knew,
that she was thinking about her mother and the terrible way she’d quit on us both. To walk away with no word and no explanation was one of the harshest choices. It left feelings of betrayal, of devastation, of guilt, even the tiniest tinge of hope that could never be assuaged.

“I will be back.” I endorsed my words of a few seconds before. “Believe it. Please.”

“I do.” Her voice a whisper. “Dad, I do.”

We moved away, Giles holding on to Lysette until the last possible second. Cheyne stood at the door.

“Plane’s waiting,” she said. “Beelzebub won’t.”

*

The plane cut through brooding skies above the Atlantic. I couldn’t help but think this was a bad idea—splitting our forces. But then I remembered that the demons were chasing
seven
artefacts. Split was inevitable. I was now surprised that I hadn’t thought it might happen before.

During the flight Cheyne made an important call to the Library of Aegis.

“Sweep through the histories containing all the hierarchy demons,” she told them. “We
have
to find a way of tracking down these artefacts before they do. Somewhere, there’s a legend or a text or something that tells us where to look. At least, I hope so. It’s all we’ve got.”

Paris
glittered like a land of stars as we banked overhead. The plane thudded down, wings tipping and swaying rather scarily just before the wheels hit, and taxied into Charles De Gaulle. Within thirty minutes we were in a taxi and headed through the dark for the heart of Paris. As soon as she managed to get a new signal, Cheyne called Leah Aldridge.

“Where are you now?”

“What? Who the hell’s this?” Leah sounded put out. “You bloody well woke me up. And how did you get this number?”

Cheyne pouted and played for time. “You don’t remember me?”

“What? Portia? Is that you?”

Cheyne gambled and stayed quiet. After another few seconds Kinkade took over.

“We stayed as long as we could. By midnight the gig and the after show were pretty much dead and everyone wanted to burn off their energy. The performances leave you with a million doses of excess adrenalin that
so
need draining. Usual way is a party, so that’s where we went.”

“Did you track Beelzebub?”

“Until we left. He waited.”

Cheyne figured out the timings. “So he’s had four hours to himself. Let’s hope he’s still there. Leah
—thank you.”

“Of course. You should come to meet me before you go. This body
—this person—could be useful to you.”

Giles leaned forward in the back seat. “Are you offering to help? Through her?”

“Come to see me . . . tomorrow . . . if you survive tonight.”

The call clicked off. Giles sat back with a huff. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, you ass.”

Tanya spoke up. “I wouldn’t call Kinkade the gargoyle an ass. Not to his face anyways.”

“Why? He’s inanimate. What’s he going to do? Talk about me?”

Belinda grunted. “He might sic his Victoria’s Secret model on you.”

I laughed. “Is that supposed to be a punishment?”

Belinda frowned at me. I ignored the look. I hadn’t totally forgiven her for giving Ken Hamilton a lap dance yet. Truth be told, I hadn’t even had time for one myself.
Something to look forward to.

*

Outside the Louvre the taxi dropped us off, the French driver no doubt having one or two private thoughts about the English and American lunatics that had taken over his car. Though pretty and somewhat stunning, the surroundings suddenly felt very cold and very dangerous. The glass pyramid shone like a beacon, the surrounding museum lit only where cleaning crews plied their trade. Cheyne headed toward the pyramid and we all started off after her, but then Belinda stopped and stared.

“Ah, crap.”

The tremor in her voice made my hair stand on end even before I saw the nightmare vision that had been watching us all along. It crouched at the very top of the glass pyramid, a menacing black effigy of horns, demonic wings, and blazing red eyes. I would have thought it an early Halloween decoration, only the wings were slowly moving and the eyes blinked. When we all stopped and stared it rose up on two impossibly tall spindly legs.

“I am Beelzebub. I am Legion.
I am laden with a dark and magnificent duty. I
feel
the blood that pumps through your hearts and now, it is
mine!
”

The wings unfurled to
their fullest extent and then, there above the Louvre and the shining lights in the heart of Paris, over the great square and visible from the Champs Elysees, there came swooping one of the most powerful beings in existence—Beelzebub, demon of death. I should have stood tall, I should have confronted it, but my deepest instinct was to flee, to get the hell out of there and cower in the farthest corner. My eyes must have been wild, because when Belinda turned and spotted me she reached out and held me in a grip of iron.

“We stand together
,” she said. “We fight.”

I nodded frantically, my heart triple-timing.

The creature’s arc took it higher and then down into a headlong dive. Wings buffeted the air. A screech like the coming of ruin stung my senses. I saw its tongue. I saw its teeth. I saw fire spitting between its jaws. Like a living dive-bomber it zoomed between us, claws raking, forked tail whipping to and fro.

We scattered, diving every which way. One of the tails smashed Giles across the head, making him cry out and smack his forehead against hard stone. A raking talon snicked past my face, so close I coul
d feel the breeze of its passing. It had come within a hair’s-breadth of flaying my cheek to the bone. Fire spat and spurted to the ground, not gouts of flame but small spatters as if they were leaking from the demon’s innards, a by-product of its anger. The flagstones sizzled. The right wing slammed into Belinda, knocking her off her feet and sending her sprawling. At the extent of its dive the demon swooped up into the air again, suddenly vertical.

And screech
ed with bloodlust and glorious rage.

We regrouped. The attack had come so fast it was more than breathtaking, it was
overwhelming. Cheyne was already on her feet, a chant pouring from her mouth. Giles was groaning but thankfully conscious. I stared up at the ascending monster, fists clenched tightly enough to crush horse chestnuts.