Reckoning (33 page)

It was enchanting.

Still, the hair at the back of my neck reminded me why we were here, tweaking inconveniently as it told me which way to turn, unintentionally giving us a precise direction towards the Fallen One.

Gershom conferred with my assessment of my radar’s compass, tweaking our path every now and then until we came across a tall, narrow building that I ascertained was actually a home.

It was void of personality with the exception of two rows of windows lining the front face, each one dark from within. It appeared to be empty, although I knew better. My radar was dancing chaotically right now, confirming we’d reached our destination. As if that weren’t evidence enough, two bodies passed in front of the first floor window.

I knew Eran saw them too when he reached out an arm and protectively crossed it over my body.

When I tilted my head and lifted my eyebrows at him, he dropped it, whispering, “Sorry…habit.”

He felt vindicated when I announced quietly in warning, “There’s more than two in there.”

“
How-How many are there?” asked Gershom, pulling his flannel shirt tighter, and not because of the cooler weather typical of this region.

I judged the sensation on my neck for a moment. “Nearly twenty.”

“
You sound disappointed,” Eran noted.

I laughed it off without confirming the truth. I was disappointed. The site I was seeking would have far more than twenty Fallen Ones.

Eran issued orders then, instructing groups of us to various sections of the building. I, of course, was in his group.

As the others sprang to life, running quickly to their posts, Eran turned to me, his left hand lifting to take my cheek.

“
Twenty outnumbers us,” he stated, looking up at me through his lashes, tantalizing me. “Will you do me the favor of staying here? I promise you can come in when we’ve contained the area.”

“
No,” I replied flatly.

His shoulders fell in frustration, his hand falling shortly afterwards. His incentive had failed.

“
I’m going in now,” I informed him.

His head fell back and he released a quiet groan. “So stubborn…”

I strolled around him. “I could say the same about you, my love.”

When I looked back for his reaction, he was fighting a grin. But, knowing it was an inappropriate time for it and that right now he needed to be focused, it fell quickly.

As I headed for the house, my senses magnified and I discerned two bodies were on the first floor, another ten were on the second floor, and the last one was moving up a flight of stairs, where I heard him stumble in his haste.

Every one of them was moving quickly. Doors were being yanked open, papers were being aggressively shuffled. It was as if they here trying to hide something…or find something.

We took the front entrance, walking straight up to the door. There, a small mailbox was mounted to the outside wall and on it was a nameplate. Chiseled in brass was the name Rautenstrauch, which left an impression on me. Maybe because it was vaguely familiar…

I wasn’t certain. All I could identify with at the moment was the sudden, distinct feeling of guilt riding up. For the first time since I’d become a hunter of Fallen Ones I was about to enter someone’s home, one who cherished it enough to post a name on the outside. He or she had likely furnished it, put thought towards where possessions were placed, had spent time here enjoying the comforts it gave. I was now about to enter it with ill intent and I felt no better than a common thief.

I blinked back the line of thoughts marching through my consciousness then.

What was I doing? I asked myself. This was the home of a vicious criminal, one that endangered anyone who crossed their path.

Then the door opened.

Those inside knew I had arrived…They had felt me.

Eran ducked in front of me just as the first of our enemies lunged out of the blackness within. He blocked it effortlessly as it was a scrawny one, the frail body slamming against the door jam.

My sword, already unsheathed, plunged through his chest. He groaned, sliding from the blade as I allowed it to follow the weight of his body to the ground.

I pulled my weapon up just as the second Fallen One came through the door. This one held two guns, one in each hand, and his trigger fingers were pumping in rapid succession.

Eran’s appendages instantly folded around us, their layers of thick, impenetrable feathers forming a barrier of safety. The cocoon only lasted a few seconds, Eran’s intriguing eucalyptus- earthy aroma enveloping us, making me stronger.

When his wings withdrew, I was eager, ready.

My sword cut a swath through the air, taking both hands from the Fallen One. They tumbled through the air, fingers still wrapped around their gun’s handles but no longer able to do any damage.

The Fallen One, swarthy skinned with a scar along one side of his neck, paused, his jaw falling open as he gaped at the stubs of his arms.

“
You-You took my hands,” he muttered with an accent blended by various cultures.

Judging from it, he’d been on earth a very long time with those hands. I could understand his discomfort.

“
You won’t need them any longer,” I said, ironically attempting to comfort him.

“
Your victims will appreciate the irony,” Eran stated bluntly, apparently knowing this particular Fallen One. He confirmed it by using the name given to him. “Seaside Strangler.”

He blinked back at Eran, surprised at the acknowledgement. Then, not to be outdone, he tucked his stumped arms to his chest, rotated at the waist, and launched a round kick at my head.

Eran was too fast for it, intercepting the leg and twisting it abnormally around the Fallen One’s waist.

The result was a howl of pain as he collapsed to the ground, unable to hold himself up with only his one remaining limb.

As we stepped by him, I sent my sword through him, ushering him to eternal death.

The remaining Fallen Ones weren’t a challenge, with the rest of our unit having met us inside by that point and dominating the small group left on the ground floor.

It was the Fallen Ones upstairs who fought with skillful vigor, nearly taking Christianson’s head off. Eran stepped in on that collision and deflected the sledgehammer from its path. By the end of the bloodshed, we surveyed the damage, carefully stepping over the bodies and broken furniture.

“
What were they doing here?” Eran asked, under his breath. “It makes no sense. Fallen Ones don’t cluster like this.”

“
Burglarizing,” I concluded.

“
No…not stealing.” He pointed to an opened safe in which money was still neatly stacked. It was untouched.

“
I saw one looking at papers when we entered the room,” mentioned Erick, one in our unit who typically didn’t speak much but was diligent in his observing. “He was…inspecting it.”

“
Paper,” Eran mumbled and then sighed in exasperation.

“
We don’t have much time,” Campion cautioned.

“
Right,” said Eran. “The noise…”

From a distance, the wails of police sirens were already within earshot.

Then Eran stooped and picked something up. It had been lying beside the open hand of a Fallen One, having slid from his clutched fingers at death.

He unraveled and held it up for closer inspecting, drawing attention from all of us.

It was a painting, a kaleidoscope of colors and rendered with immaculate detail. The woman sat sternly in a chair facing the painter with taut lips that indicated she was attempting a smile. And I knew the face instantly.

“
Isabelle…” I muttered.

Eran swung his head to face me. “You know her?”

“
She’s Sarai’s mother…Abaddon’s wife.”

Then it hit me all at once, fitting together neatly like pieces of a puzzle. Memories that the scrolls had shown me of their past lives flashed before me. Isabelle in a parlor in Paris. Achan’s underground home beneath the city of Paris. The listing of their lives on each one of their scrolls, all of them mentioning Paris.

I had been picking up clues all along. I just didn’t know it.

“
They’re in Paris,” I announced with absolute certainty.

Campion spun towards me, stunned. “How do you know?”

“
They died there. All of Abaddon’s followers. They’re familiar with it.”

“
But Abaddon died here…in Salzburg,” Philius pointed out.

“
Right, and we are here but they aren’t,” said Eran in agreement with me. “That leaves Paris.”

“
But we’ve been through Paris,” Christianson argued. “There were only three of them left there.”

“
Three of them left there in plain sight,” I said.

Eran’s head tilted towards me. “What are you getting at, Magdalene?”

“
They’re underground.” As I made the statement, the rest of the room released a sigh of understanding.

“
Of course…because…because they would want to remain unseen,” said Philius.

I nodded.

“
And they would be undetectable,” added Gershom.

I nodded again.

Eran strolled towards the rest of us where we had collected in the middle of the room, his eyes blazing, his signature smirk rising up.

Finally, he cleared his throat and suggested, “I’d say it’s time we paid him a visit…”

We glanced at each other to find the rest of us grinning, a unified sign of agreement.

With that, we left Abaddon’s home to plan an attack on his hideout.

CHAPTER NINETEEN: CAPTURED

We reached Ms. Barrett’s office, which had become the unofficial discussion chamber, in record time. And even though it was late, our voices drowned each other out, everyone with a different opinion on what to do next.

“
Full scale attack,” suggest Christianson, who had grown fearless in the time I’d known him.

“
A diversion. We need a diversion. Then we bombard them,” said Philius, and I could see that he was already planning it out in his mind.

Several more suggestions were raised, all of them countering each other.

In the midst of it, my housemates, Ms. Beedinwigg, and Mr. Hamilton entered, each with blurry eyes but steadily growing alert. We had woken them, I figured, and they deserved to know why. I moved to Ezra’s side where they grouped around me and I explained to them what we’d learned, their eyes widening as I told the story both from excitement and fear.

Eran waited for calmer heads to prevail before speaking up. He was bent over the map he’d been using to mark our previous hunts, attempting to find some pattern in their placement.

When the cacophony died down, he rotated his head to me with an incredulous expression. “They’re in The Catacombs.”

Those who were speaking immediately quieted.

“
The Parisian catacombs…” Eran explained to those staring at him now with blank faces. “The cemeteries beneath Paris. When those not wealthy enough to pay for a church burial lost a loved one, often times they would be buried in central mass graves…”

“
Below Paris…” I drew in a quick breath. “Yes, it’s where Achan lived before he met Abaddon.”

Eran’s eyebrows lifted as he asked, “And how did you learn that, my dear?”

Knowing he already figured it was through my use of the scroll he’d specifically asked me not to use my only response was an aggravated sigh.

“
The catacombs…Fantastic,” Felix said with clear distain. “Diseased rats, the lingering stench of death, shadows of the dead creeping up the walls.”

“
Don’t worry, Felix. You won’t be going,” said Eran, which conveyed to everyone that he’d already formulated a plan.

“
The caverns and tunnels are complex so we’ll want to take only a small group. We can’t risk losing anyone and it’ll make us visible with too large a group. Philius will need to go in first to perform reconnaissance…” Eran went on to finish every detail of his plan, finishing with, “Are there any questions?”

I was the first to speak. “I didn’t hear what my role would be.” Which was strange because I rarely missed those types of details.

As it turned out, I hadn’t missed it.

“
You will be staying here, preparing for an assault should we fail.”

I blinked several times in disbelief, certain I’d heard him wrong. “Staying here?”

“
Yes,” he said, rolling up the map in order to avoid looking my way.

“
But…No…”

Knowing this could blow up to a large scale argument, Eran strode across the room towards me. “We can’t risk it. You are too important to-”

“
Eran…I can’t ask others to go in place of me. I created this war.”

He shook his head, saddened. “No, you didn’t. I did.”

His meaning was evident. Abaddon had been punished because of the crime he’d committed against Eran. The only person not involved at the start of it was me.

Refusing to allow the argument to enflame, he explained to me in a way I could not misunderstand. “We need to enter undetected-”