The Peregrine Omnibus Volume One (42 page)

“Did you call for back-up?” Max asked.

“Yes. I told them to come and wait outside the gates—and to not let anyone or anything out of the cemetery unless they knew the password.”

“Good. These demons might be shape shifters and I don’t want them escaping.”

“I don’t plan on sending any of my men in unless I call them on the radio,” McKenzie reminded him. “They’re not equipped to fight demons and I’d rather not have them knowing that I’m moonlighting as a vigilante.”

“Understood,” Max replied. “And don’t worry—if things go according to plan, we’ll do the heavy lifting and your boys are just there for clean up.”

The group came to a stop just below the peak, where Rasputin was now fully visible. The Russian mystic knelt down, looking down at the approaching heroes. A snake-like demon with the head of a dog coiled about his left shoulder. Rasputin stared hard at Leonid, recognizing in him some of the same traits that he’d once noticed in the man’s father. “Welcome, young Kaslov. I hope that you are prepared to die like your father did: writhing in the dirt, like a coward.”

The Peregrine glanced over at Kaslov, wondering at the shared history between the two men. “The plan is still good?” he asked.

“Yes,” the Russian superman replied tersely.

The group spread out at a signal from the Peregrine. Max was aiming to move around the Mad Monk in hopes of finding the remains of the Black Flame. As a telepath and sensitive, he alone had the best chance at summoning the Flame back from Rasputin. Kaslov, meanwhile, was charged with the unenviable task of combating Rasputin directly. The rest of the group—Libby, Evelyn, McKenzie and Flynn—were to try their best to combat and contain the 68 demons. To aid them in this, Max and Kaslov had modified a number of weapons so that they might do more damage to the occult beasts, including coating various implements in silver and dousing others in holy water.

Flynn was the first to engage the enemy as a four-armed monstrosity that looked like a cross between an Asian luck dragon and a wooly mammoth came bounding out of the fog, roaring in fury. Kaslov’s friend opened fire, spewing holy water covered bullets at the beast. The bullets sliced through the demon, sending up smoke from each of the wounds. As the creature hissed in pain, McKenzie helped finish off the demon by delivering a well-placed shot to the side of the thing’s head.

The battle was thus joined as the demons that flew through the air and those that scrambled about on the ground became aware of a war for their survival. The demons flew towards their foes, a ghostly entity coming up from the ground and wrapping its talons around Evelyn’s waist. The Peregrine’s wife let out a cry of surprise and then slashed backwards with the dagger she brandished. The silver blade cut deep into the demon’s spectral flesh and sent it flying away in pain.

The Peregrine cast one glance back at the love of his life and then turned away, focusing on the task at hand. Kaslov was moving to engage Rasputin, leaving Max to try and end the battle on another front. There was no sign of the flickering blue-black mass that Kaslov had described, which could only mean that the entire entity was now residing within Rasputin’s frame.

Cursing, the Peregrine began looking about for any sign of where the Flame had resided just before entering the Russian. He saw an oddly burned patch of dirt and grass and knelt to touch it with his hand. The signet ring he wore began to glow fiercely, a sure sign that the dark powers of the Flame had been in this spot recently. Max ran his fingers through the blackened soil, reaching out with the mental powers he possessed. He felt the lingering mental essence of the Flame, an incredibly ancient entity with powerful desires and loneliness. It craved contact with the beings who summoned it, drawn to them by the force of their emotions and needs.
Come back to this spot
, the Peregrine projected into the ether.
Remaining bound to Rasputin won’t satisfy the things you really want. You’ll be a slave, a toy for him to manipulate at his whims. Come back! Be free!

Rasputin felt a sudden shift in the power within him but was unable to focus on what was causing it. The massive Russian Leonid Kaslov had stepped in front of him, sparks of rage burning within his eyes. “Come to revenge yourself upon your father’s killer?” the Mad Monk taunted.

“My father was a great man. He saw you for the threat that you were and tried to stop you. It’s to the detriment of the world that you refused to stay dead.” Kaslov sprang into action, delivering a karate style chop to Rasputin’s neck. The sudden attack sent the Monk staggering back, clutching at his injured throat.

With a hiss of violent anger, Rasputin tossed aside the demon that had been tightly wrapped about his shoulder. He then brought up both hands and unleashed blue-tinted lightning from the tips of his fingers. The electricity blazed into Kaslov, causing the famous adventurer to cry out in alarm. Both Libby and Flynn looked up from their own ferocious battles in surprise. Neither of them had ever heard the mighty Russian in such distress.

Kaslov refused to surrender, however. He began taking several slow, agonizing steps towards Rasputin. Each movement caused more of his skin to blacken and burn. “You are… not… going to win!” he said, his words coming out in great gasps of pain.

“I am a god!” Rasputin retorted, his eyes widening as the man continued to advance. “I have conquered death! I shall not be denied!”

Kaslov cried out, throwing himself forward. He tackled Rasputin and knocked the man to the ground, steam rising off his body. They rolled about, arms locked tightly about each other. Kaslov was far stronger than most men but his strength was met by the Mad Monk’s own Flame enhanced abilities.

While a battle to the death was taking place, Sally bolted from her hiding place and made a mad dash towards the edge of the cemetery. She could see flashing police lights up ahead but her progress was halted when a man grabbed her roughly by the elbow. She whirled about to see Big Charlie and his men.

“Hello there, doll. Glad to see we didn’t miss all the fun.”

Sally looked back towards the cop cars. “You’re going down, Charlie. There’s no way out.”

“No law against being in a cemetery,” Charlie answered with a cold smile. “Did you see your old beau again, honey?”

“You bastard!” she cried, attempting to slap his face as she did so. Charlie caught her hand and squeezed, causing her to whimper.

“We had a good run, you and me. But it’s over. Understand?”

“You got that right,” someone said from his left.

Charlie turned to see both his men taken down by a slender woman with a penchant for sweeping leg kicks. Her first nearly took Mikey’s chin off and her second sent the other man to his knees. She then drove a foot hard into Charlie’s nether region, making him drop Sally and land hard on his back.

“You okay?” the woman asked with concern.

Sally blinked in surprise. “You’re that actress. Evelyn Gould.”

Evelyn beamed at the recognition. “You know me?”

“Sure do. I loved you in
Ki-Gor and the Ivory Goddess
.”

Evelyn took Sally by the hand. “C’mon. You can tell me all about your favorite parts—once we’ve gotten your bruises and cuts looked at.”

* * *

The Peregrine could smell the burning of human flesh. He looked over to see Kaslov and Rasputin now tied together in a pyre of Black Flame. The alien power washed over both of them, dancing up in tiny sparks of fiery death.
You are older than man!
He continued to project, hoping his words could reach the intelligence of the Flame.
Can you truly exist as a servant to a mortal? Be free! Be free!

Rasputin suddenly howled in confusion. The Flame had begun to pull itself free of him, yanking itself from his very soul. He tried to hold it back in but could not summon the necessary willpower, distracted as he was by Kaslov’s assault.

The powerful Russian slammed his forehead into Rasputin’s nose, shattering it. The pain made the Mad Monk lose all control over the Flame and with it the spell that was freeing the 68 demons. Many of them were suddenly whisked away, back into the realms from which they had emerged. Others merely found their powers reduced significantly, allowing their earthly forms to fall prey to the weapons of their enemies.

The Black Flame rose up into the air above Kaslov and Rasputin, hovering there for a long moment as the Peregrine stared up into its dancing fire. Max found it impossible to look away for in the center of the thing’s being lay that which had driven Max for so very long: vengeance.

The Flame shot forth, wrapping itself around the Peregrine like a long-lost lover. It whispered to him of the things that could be accomplished between them. It promised him the power to rid the world of all evil, to protect the lives of the innocent. And all it asked was that he offer up his soul to do it.

Max found himself hesitating. He’d already danced with the devil on many occasions and had learned to use the tools of the occult in ways that benefited man kind. Could he do the same with this? He knew why the Flame was making this offer: it knew that Max could wield it effectively but would not make a slave of it like Rasputin. They would be a partnership.

And then Whisper’s soft, seductive voice came through his mind:

“Soon you’re going to have to choose what kind of person you really are: the kind who believes the ends justify the means or the kind who believes in the sanctity of life.”

The Peregrine knew that this was the moment of truth. With the Flame, he might be able to save the lives of Evelyn, his son and all his friends. He could make sure they would be safe. Forever.

But at what cost?

“No,” he whispered. “I can’t do this.”

The Black Flame started to pull away but the Peregrine struck first. He drew his mystic dagger, the weapon glowing with a fierce golden halo, and plunged into the depths of the fire. The Flame unleashed a scream that could never have come from a human throat. It vanished in a glow that illuminated the cemetery like the midday sun.

Rasputin saw the end of his dream of glory, pulling away from Kaslov, blood running down his face. “No,” he said, unable to believe that it had all slipped from his grasp. “It can’t be happening this way.”

Kaslov stood as well, looking down at his hands and arms. The burns were gone, healed in some unfathomable way. Had he truly been burning at all? Was the secret of the Flame that it was all illusion, fakery so real that it could kill the believing?

A conundrum for another day
, Kaslov decided.

He tapped Rasputin on the shoulder. The Mad Monk turned to face him, an odd look on his face. “It’s over,” Kaslov began but he let his words trail off as the skin of the older man’s face began to crack and wither.

Rasputin looked stricken with terror. “No. I can’t exist anymore… the Flame did something to me!”

“Maybe it didn’t appreciate the way you were using it,” Kaslov replied. “Or perhaps it’s eager to get your soul back to its realm.”

Rasputin reached out for Kaslov just as his entire body began to break down. His lower jaw detached, falling to smash at the Russian’s feet. Then the rest of the Mad Monk’s body followed suit, until there was nothing left of the madman save for ash and bone.

CHAPTER XX

A Beautiful World

The next few days were odd ones in Atlanta. Reports of unusual occurrences were rampant and the local papers found themselves unable to verify the majority of them. What everyone could agree on, however, was that a truly dazzling light show had taken place above the cemetery.

Big Charlie was taken into custody and, with testimony from both his wife and several of his men who turned state’s evidence, he was seemingly headed towards a long stint in the state pen.

Around the Davies Plantation, things were a bit crowded as Kaslov and his friends agreed to stay for a time. Libby and Evelyn found themselves becoming fast friends while Flynn and McKenzie discovered a mutual need to one-up the other in all things.

Max and Leonid, meanwhile, spent much time in the Peregrine’s lab. But it was on the last day of the Russian’s stay that they took to roaming the property, eager for the chance to speak in private.

“You should consider it,” Max said. He and Leonid were both covered in scrapes and bruises but looked remarkably good for their terrible ordeals. “She seems crazy about you.”

Kaslov nodded. “I’m going to give it some time. I don’t do anything recklessly if I can help it. But seeing that you’ve been able to make things work gives me hope.”

“Well, I doubt your father would want you to be alone.”

Kaslov said nothing, remembering his father’s love for science.

When they reached the edge of the property, they could see down to the house itself. Everyone was saying goodbye, having loaded up Kaslov’s rental car. “Are you going to start attending the Nova Alliance meetings again?” Leonid asked.

“It’s a bit far for me to travel regularly,” Max answered. “But working with you has made me realize there are a lot of good men and women in that adventurer’s club. We should all call on each other more often.”

Kaslov nodded, looking past his friend’s shoulder. He began walking briskly over to a nearby tree, Max trailing behind. “Good lord,” the Russian whispered.

Max stepped up in confusion, his eyes narrowing. There on the ground lay over a dozen crows, each of them crushed to death. Their feathers and little droplets of blood lined the ground.

“What can that mean?” Kaslov wondered aloud.

Max forced a smile on his face and shrugged. “I’ll look into it. You need to leave if you’re going to make your train.”

Kaslov turned to face him, his expression grim. “Call me if you need any kind of help.”

“I will.” They shook hands and then embraced as good friends are wont to do. Max watched as Leonid approached the car and said goodbye to McKenzie and Evelyn, who held little Will in her arms. Max then looked back to the dead peregrines, all cast aside in the dirt.

An old enemy was returning.

A war would be renewed.

But that was another day and another concern. For now, Max was going to enjoy the sunlight. He was going to hold his wife and his baby boy and he would take the time to appreciate the fact that his war was not to be a lonely one.