The COMPLETE Witching Pen Series, Boxed Set (51 page)

The Chinese man said something to Sophia, who barely nodded – her face once again showing no emotion – then he looked at Mary, and returned the pendant to her. “This is blood of dragon. Blood magic. And dragon magic.”

“In other words,” interrupted Sophia, “it’s authentic. Ri Tian made this with his own hands.”

The old man – Ri Tian – nodded. “Thirty years ago.”

“But I’m twenty-eight,” said Mary.

“No matter. Fairy queen see all. Predict you coming. I make this for her, and she place it on you when you born.”

“Who’s this fairy queen?”

“She is of old Gods.”

Sophia’s eyes lit up with excitement. “We don’t know much about the fay. But we do know they were here before us – before any of us – even angels. In fact, it is said they were the ones that taught the angels their language.

“Fairies and dragons have always had a close connection, the dragons being what guarded the balance of all creation. When the new Gods came, fleeing their own dying dimension and needing a place to live, the fay welcomed them into their homeland, introducing them to their ways. Of course, as is always the case, the new Gods – or new God, since he likes to be referred to as a single entity – became greedy with knowledge and power over time. He split the very essence of the world that had been given to him—”

“The chaos?”

“That’s what he called it: Chaos. Because he couldn’t understand its structure. It’s nothing new. ‘Civilised’ humans, centuries ago, viewed Indian and African tribes as chaotic, or savage, and it’s still common to assume something is chaotic just because you don’t understand it. The Totilemi always strive to understand,” she added, proudly. “Knowledge is power.

“To the fairies, their beloved land wasn’t chaos; they called it Tír na nÓg.”

“Eggnog!” exclaimed Mary.

Everyone looked at her quizzically.

“Nevermind … carry on.”

“Tír na nÓg was the land of joy and youth – at least, until God decided he could do better, and split it. The half that remained on the other side of The Boundary could not survive on its own. It grew dark and bleak, whereas the half that he kept became nourished with his light … and from his light, he made his own creation – his own paradise. He gave it his own structure, created his own beings, and re-labelled it Heaven.”

Gwain spoke through the silence that followed. “How do you know all of this? You’re—”

“Just a demon?”

“I was going to say, not from Heaven.”

“Lokoli’s gift to the Totilemi was knowledge. I can know everything there is to know about a person or object by merely touching it. And I
didn’t
know all of this until I knew to seek it a few hours ago, after I saw that necklace you insisted on going back for,” she said to Mary, “and after I touched you both.

“Mary, I thought you were the last angel. Unlike the myths of other demon tribes, Totilemi sources have always believed the last angel to be female. Then I touched you, Gwain, when you carried me on your back, and I knew instantly that
you
were the last angel.” She frowned. “I hate being wrong. But I suppose, by default, you’re
both
the last angel since you’re created from the same source – apocalypses are always shrouded in half-truths; full of twists and turns and confusion, and it’s irrelevant, anyway, now that you’ve merged.”

“We were merged before I fell.”

Sophia smirked. “And do you have any idea what happened the last time you merged? Of course you don’t – you weren’t on Earth then, but it’s well recorded amongst those that were. It rained a torrential downpour the world over, for forty days and nights, and everyone thought
that
was the apocalypse. It damn well would have been if you two hadn’t been ripped apart.”

Holy fuck!

After his immortal life plodding along so slowly for millennia, these revelations were hitting him at bullet-speed. It had been a long time since he’d felt this out of control. Panic tightened his chest. Mary sensed it and reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “So, what’s this dragon necklace thing supposed to do?” she asked.

“Ah,” said Ri Tian, “the blood I use to forge it, came from last remaining dragon.”

“There are no remaining dragons,” Gwain said, more assertively than he’d intended.

“There is one. It lies sleeping in the belly of the earth, sleeping under Hell, waiting to rise.”

“And how will it rise?” whispered Mary, her other hand clutching the pendant tightly.

Sophia’s gaze fixed on Mary. “It will rise when you fall.”

“When last angel falls, dragon will rise once again, along with the old Gods,” stated Ri Tian. “Your death will awake the dragon.”

Anger, brought on by his panic, engulfed him. “Nobody’s dying.”

Mary squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Sophia, you said at the station that I was to
stop
the last angel from falling.”

“No, I asked you if you knew
how
to stop an angel from falling – that’s completely different.”

“But you said—”

“You were all over the place at the station, and not listening to me. You have the attention span of a gnat. I was saying creepy-sounding stuff and handing you a weird balloon to make you
focus
on the fact that you have an important role to play in the greater scheme of things.”

Mary scowled. “You’re incorrigible. What about mankind?”

“As long as Hell exists, mankind will fall when angels are no longer there to guide them – which will be the case if the apocalypse takes place. The weight of their sins are too great for any other outcome.”

“Then we have to stop the apocalypse,” stated Gwain, his temper rising.

“Don’t you get it?” snapped Sophia, matching his anger. “I got it as soon as I touched you: you’re both made from the
exact same fabric
that was the crux of Tír na nÓg – of what came
before
God! Your mergence is the
only
way light and dark, Heaven and Hell, order and chaos, whatever you want to call it, can be united since God separated the two. And you
have
merged. You’re
undoing
separation. You’re not just portents for the apocalypse, you
are
the fucking apocalypse. The only way to
stop
the apocalypse from happening, is to tear yourselves apart again –
un
-merge. Are either of you willing to do that? No, I didn’t think so. Well, Michael and his army will do it for you when they kill you. Gwain, what happens to the souls of fallen angels when they are beheaded?”

He could feel that desperation he’d felt when Mary had been taken from him. It choked him. “Their souls return to the source – to God. In Mary’s case…”

Fuck…

“…to Abaddon.”

The message was clear. If they were killed, they would be separated … again. And the thought of her returning to that psychotic angel’s clutches was more than he could bear, even if it meant averting the apocalypse.

Maybe he was more exhausted than he’d thought, because his legs suddenly felt weak and he was sure he was on the verge of collapse. He should have been worried about all of mankind, but he’d always been a bit of a selfish bastard.

You’re going to lose her
, whispered his stupid subconscious.
You’ve just got her back, and now you’re going to lose her. Are you willing to spend another ten thousand years trying to find her again?
 

 “Hey,” said Mary, softly, brushing his face with her fingers. She brought his right hand up, palm upwards, and dug her nails into it with her new angel strength, until skin broke and blood seeped through small crescents. Then she turned her own palm up. Identical moon-shaped cuts stared right back at them from her hand. “Your pain, is my pain. We’re
not
losing each other again – there’s no losing.” Tears filled her eyes.

He looked at her grimly, and then laced his fingers through hers, red palms pressing; a soft glow emerging where their blood mingled.

There was no winning either.

He wouldn’t be able to find her again, because if Mary died, so would he, and they would be separated for good.

Outside, the hail that had eased off earlier now gave way to heavy rain that pounded through the silence in the room.

He brought her into his chest and breathed her in. Ten thousand years had dragged on forever. Now, the few hours he had her for were racing him by.

Sophia stepped up to him, and tugged on his feathers. This time, her expression wasn’t blank, but one of reverence and awe. “Some of us have been waiting for an end to separation for a long time. Some of the demon tribes fear the apocalypse, and some of us welcome it. The fay have been working to make it happen since the beginning, so they can return their homeland to what it once was.” She gestured to Ri Tian, who fumbled under his cloak and brought out a dagger, which he handed to her. She took it, turned back to Gwain, and held it to him. But it was Mary who reached out and took it.

Sophia nodded her approval. “That dagger was created from the purest, consecrated fairy silver, over two thousand years ago.”

“Fairy silver?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t even know such a thing existed until I touched this blade just a few hours ago. This will kill a fallen angel by piercing it through his or her heart.”

“Beheading is the only way to kill a fallen,” said Gwain, although he didn’t know why he was bothering to hold onto what he knew – he clearly knew nothing.

“Not anymore. This dagger was made specifically for you both, by the fairy queen herself. Its magic will preserve your soul and conscious thought. It will ensure you two are not parted by death, although I cannot say what
will
happen to you.

“Let Michael kill you, and the apocalypse will be averted and mankind saved from falling, but you will be separated; do it yourselves, and the apocalypse will take place, man will fall, but you will remain merged – forever.”

What an utterly crappy decision to make.
Maybe I’ll go ram some needles up my fingernails instead.
 

Mary’s grip tightened on its handle. She looked at Gwain. “Better to have it than not, in case…”

Fuck it, were they really discussing which way would be best for them to die?

Determination burned fiercely in her eyes. “I swore I wouldn’t let you go again.”

Then, the five Totilemi demons, and the old man – with some difficulty – fell to their knees in salute.

Mary’s jaw dropped open, while Gwain muttered every swear word he could think of under his breath. He had no intention of becoming a God-damned martyr for fairies, demons, angels or anyone.

Sophia stared at them both as if they were the key to salvation. Her big, child-like eyes welled up. “The Totilemi will serve you now, and beyond. Hail to the old Gods! The dragon will rise again.”

Chapter Thirteen

Pueblo’s eyes snapped open, and thank God it wasn’t one of those instances where you took an age to remember what happened. They were back in Karl and Elena’s room, and his senses were sharp and clear. The trip into the Shanka dimension had been a huge success, mostly because the demons were fighting amongst themselves over who should be ruling their tribe. The Shanka hadn’t seen their little rescue mission coming, and guard over Katherine had not been organised. With a Brujii queen and the most powerful witch in the world sporting unrivalled don’t-fuck-with-me magic, an angel piercing their shadow world with light, and himself able to burn through anything that got in his way, they’d barged through all obstacles and reached Katherine within an hour. They’d been out of there in two, leaving the Shanka spitting with rage.

They’d suffered nothing but scuffs and nicks, although the same couldn’t be said for Elena’s mother. The woman had lost years – literally. The Shanka had been gradually sucking the life out of her, and the woman, who could only be in her mid-forties, now looked like she was in her eighties.

Pueblo jumped to his feet, and to full attention. Karl still had Katherine in his arms, Elena was guiding them both out of the room and into the spare bedroom, clearly trying to keep from sobbing so as not to wake her mother. Katherine was still sleeping since having taken one of the pills.

Katarra was buzzing around the room like an annoying fly on heat. She’d managed to sink her teeth into one of the demons’ necks just before they’d gotten out of there – daft bitch. She was now without her magic for lord knew how long. They’d had to drag her out mid-orgasm, and he could do with getting
that
image right out of his head, thank you very much.

“Hey.” A soft hand touched his arm from behind and he whirled, still on high alert and ready to pounce.

“It’s me! It’s me…”

“Amy? Oh, baby…” He swept her up in a bear hug, relief washing over him. God damn it, if it had been her drained of all life in that hell-hole, he didn’t know how he’d have coped. “I missed you.”

She laughed. “You were only gone two hours.”

“It was two hours too long.”

“You’re all in one piece. Did everything go well?”

“Yeah. They didn’t see us coming. We were in and out, with only a few bruises.” He pulled back, taking strength in the blue of her eyes which looked … apprehensive. “What’s wrong?”

She studied him for a few seconds, then took a deep breath. “Stay calm, okay?”

He frowned. “You know, when you want someone to stay calm, that shouldn’t be your opening line.”

“I was attacked by Dessec demons.”

“What?!”

“Calm, remember? There were five of them. They had a shaman working with them.”

“The Dessec hate shamans.”

“That’s what I said. But there it is.”

“They
attacked
you? Why? Where are they now? How did you get away?” Oh, shit.
Don’t shift!
He fought the impulse to change and tear after his own tribe.

Amy fidgeted from foot to foot, and wrung her hands together. She took in another deep breath, and then she exhaled. “Okay, well…”

“I
knew
it!” cried Katarra. Her eyes gleamed in triumph. “I knew it wasn’t ov—”