Prophecy (Residue Series #4) (25 page)

“I’ll find it,” Maggie said resolutely.

I liked her nerve, but she needed to know that she wasn’t in this alone. “We’ll be there too, Maggie.”

She gave me a sincere nod and redirected her gaze forward.

From then on, our time in the air was spent quiet, each of us doing our own assessment of what to expect on the ground.

Once there, we hovered over Pinggu, using the dense, dirtied air as cover. The Sevens were here all right, and the Dissidents were retaliating. Even from this height, and despite the thick foliage of the mountainous region, we could see movement, sparks of light.

“Jocelyn,” I asked, and she turned her eyes to me. “Wait for my sign this time.”

“I will,” she conceded, grasping the seriousness of the situation now that we were looking down on it.

“There are a lot of black uniforms down there,” Maggie noted. “It’ll be easy to blend in.”

“Let’s hope so,” I commented and gave Jocelyn a nod.

We descended and Jocelyn placed us at the rear of the assault, where Caligula was most likely to be. There were no tents this time, only native structures that served as homes and municipal offices.

“Easy to see why Caligula chose this location to strike,” I muttered.

Eran nodded. “Because there are no main roads leading here.”

“And the mountains offer protection,” Maggie added.

And once again I felt like we had the right allies with us.

“Caligula must be in one of these,” Eran said, slapping the corner of a white-washed building as we landed.

“Yes, he will have made himself an office here,” I agreed. And then it dawned on me where. “The most ostentatious one…”

“What?” Eran asked, keeping his eyes on the alleyway leading to the main street.

There were Vires down there, lots of them.

“We need to find the most lavish building. That’s where Caligula will be set up.”

They nodded in agreement and we headed for the street.

Blend in
, my mind was telling me. And I was sure that’s what Maggie and Eran were telling themselves.

We did a fairly good job of it, passing unnoticed, even unrecognized while moving next to the buildings. The Vires didn’t shift their eyes from whatever target they had locked on, allowing us to pass by as ghosts. For once, their robotic programming worked to our benefit. It was a refreshing change of pace.

There was a calm, almost routine, mechanical feeling to the city, a tempo that said, “We’re here. We’re going to stay, let’s get on with it”. Clearly, it was now occupied by The Sevens, our world and the one ours was embedded in merged here, becoming one. There were no more witches and those who didn’t believe we existed, just subjects and The Sevens. The veil to our world was lifted, the innocence the other world lived in was now wiped away. If they hadn’t believed in witchcraft, they would now or soon enough. The elders might call us Wu, or shaman, and the younger generation might reason our ability to levitate, channel, and manipulate the elements to be technological advancements. Either way, denying it would be a futile exercise.

When Maggie cleared her throat, my eyes immediately darted in search of what she was referring to. Finding it, I instinctively started in that direction, my intuition telling me that we’d arrived.

The monastery was traditional, constructed of stone and brick. It was balanced in design with each element being a separate and equal counterpart so that if the building were split in half each would be mirror images of the other. The roof swept upward, after the Buddhists’ belief that it would ward off evil. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to work this time.

Surprisingly, the front hall we entered through the main door was vacant, absent of people and furnishings. There was, however, an enormous Buddhist statue.

An almost inaudible snort came from Maggie, a sound that I interpreted as her being insulted somehow.

“A monastery?” she whispered harshly. “A place of worship? Can you believe the shamelessness of it?”

I was starting to wonder if her anger could be contained when Eran warned, “Focus, Magdalene. They won’t be here long.”

That last part got me moving again, heading into the great hall. Overhead, the intricacy of the roof looked like art and lining both sides of this long, narrow room were statues of the Buddhas. They appeared to be observing us, questioning if we would be successful in liberating this building from the man standing at the far end of it.

He was the sole person in sight, facing the mural painted on the back wall as if he were trying to decipher it. His fingers were intertwined behind his back. His arms lay limp against his hips. He appeared relaxed, self-assured, giving the impression that he had all the time in the world.

That was not going to be the case.

We walked directly to him, our Vire uniforms working as intended, permitting us to get close despite the fact that two of his associates had already lost their lives.

In fact
, I thought,
I figured he’d have a security detail surrounding him.

When we were within fifteen feet of him, movement caught our attention, followed by a blur of black shifting in my peripheral vision.

We stopped just as they descended on us, swinging around the backside of the statues with the fluidity of acrobats and dropping to their feet. Surrounding us before we could go any farther, they stood firmly waiting for orders.

Trap
, was the word that went through my mind. The next one summed up exactly how they knew to expect us,
prophecy
.

Caligula slowly turned to face us, his large nose and thin, nearly nonexistent, mouth pinched in a tight frown. Astutely, he visually measured us, assessing the threat level as a general might. The ancient Roman battle garb he wore definitely gave him that likeness. The moldavite stone welded to the breast plate helped a bit.

“After I was banished here, I helped build this structure,” he reflected, surveying it, inspecting it like he had done with us. He turned his palms up at none of us in particular. “With these hands, I labored, perspired, bled. It was tiring work in which at the end of the day I was given nothing but water, a piece of meat, and an aching body. And then,” he said, his tone lightening, “then I learned it would no longer be required. You see, I discovered what I never believed possible. I was different. I had a gift, and it offered me endless opportunities. The world became mine. I took what I desired, effortlessly, aware and carefree of those who opposed me.” He leaned forward, the twitch of a sneer momentarily shaking his lips. There was no reason to fear them, because they could not kill me.
I
, however,
I
could kill them. Yes, Jameson, Magdalene, and Eran” he whispered with a tip of his finger toward each of us, “you are the victims, and I am one no longer.”

By this point Maggie and Eran were growing restless. They settled calmly into a fighting stance as Caligula broke the line and entered the circle of death where we now stood. Boldly, he continued.

“You see, Jameson,” he whispered leaning closer. “We all arrived with an exceptional ability, my six friends and me. I found mine when in a fist fight, on the ground, with an attacker’s face suspended over me.”

He leaned closer still until he was only an inch from me.

“Would you care to guess my ability?” he asked before closing his eyes and drawing in a seemingly bottomless breath. Then he paused, tilted his head up almost in reverie, and smiled.

Instantly, I became woozy, weak, as my vision danced in front of me. Confused, I blinked, attempting to straighten Caligula’s image.

Examining me intently now, he grinned. “You feel it don’t you?”

And he inhaled again.

As I struggled to draw air, my hands instinctively moved to his throat, but his grin only widened.

“Now you understand, don’t you? I cannot be killed because it is I who draw the life out of you.”

I grunted and saw Maggie and Eran move toward me, before I stopped them with my hand.

“Life is as fleeting as a single breath.”

Those were the words Caligula chose to sum up this brief episode in which he felt powerful, dominant. Of course he did. He had his guards there to protect him. What he didn’t know was that they only served to create a false sense of security.

As my hand came around Caligula’s neck, his eyebrows fell. He was confused, mystified. And while he struggled to understand exactly what was happening, I did something I’m certain no one had ever done before. During his attempt to absorb my life, I opened my mouth and spoke.

“So is your power.”

Then it was his face contorting, his mouth open, his breath rushing from his body.

Detecting that Caligula was in trouble, the guards attacked. Maggie and Eran intervened, but it was too late. I realized this as my body was hurled upward and through the roof.

15
RESURRECTION

T
HE AIR RUSHED INTO MY LUNGS,
now free from Caligula’s grasp and from my focus on returning the favor. I felt my energy return, my heart beat slow to a steady pace. It was satisfying, renewing.

And then I reached the apex of my flight and began to descend.

My eyes snapped open.

And the pain flooded me.

Looking down I saw two factors to my situation, neither one being very positive. First, my body was rapidly approaching the hole that I left after being shoved through the monastery’s roof, and second, I was covered in red liquid.

Blood
, I reasoned,
that’s why my skin is burning
.

I was so preoccupied by these issues that I didn’t notice Jocelyn had, once again, blatantly ignored my orders to stay put. When my body stopped just short of the hole, and I could peer down at the fight raging below, I was disappointed.

My head jerked up, searching for her. My intention was to tell her to release me, but it quickly changed.

“Go back, Jocelyn!” I shouted, as she and Theleo sped toward me.

She slowly shook her head at me.

“Damn it! Go back!”

“No!” she screamed, not bothering to slow her pace.

“Theleo!” I raged. “Get her out of here!”

Because hell is about to break loose.

Instead, Theleo passed through the hole and entered the fight.

“Drop me,” I insisted as Jocelyn came to a hover beside me.

“Shhh,” she said, hastily taking my arm.

“Did you just shush me?” I asked, amazed. “You shouldn’t even be here. Go back, Jocelyn.”

Through the course of my rant, she ignored me and finished what she came to do.

“Incantatio sana,” she uttered, and then looked up at me. Her jaw stiffened with determination and what wounds I had healed instantly.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, satisfied. Then she leaned in, planted a kiss on my lips, and pulled away. “Be careful.”

She released me and I landed in the belly of the conflict. Bodies were moving in chaos, but I was able to find the one I wanted. Racing to the end of the hall, almost in the exact place where I left him, Caligula stood calmly surveying the action.

He was calm because he was preparing to do something, which I didn’t see until I was only a few steps from him.

With his eyes locked on me, large grey wings sprouted from behind him, large enough to meet my face when he flapped them forward. He shot backwards, skirting the ground.

Damn, do all of them have wings?
I wondered as my feet continued their race toward him.

He flapped them again and rose toward the ceiling.

Without warning, my view suddenly encompassed only the ground because a Vire had landed on my back.

A roar escaped me as I channeled his ability, and we shot upward together. I wrapped my arm around my back, grabbed the foot planted there, and shoved it off me. But to the Vire’s horror, I didn’t release my hold, instead allowing him to dangle as we rushed for Caligula.

The Vire kicked, trying to loosen my grip, but it didn’t work.

I wasn’t about to let this guy drop me.

Caligula floated just below the hole I made earlier, scrutinizing the scene playing out below him. Like most leaders who send their flocks into battle, he remained safely out of reach, or so he thought. It was the second miscalculation he made today in relation to our abilities, and I appreciated it. Being an underdog or one of low expectations has its advantages. It means you can pursue the enemy and he won’t flee, and his arrogance results in the downfall of his capture.

But I wasn’t interested in capturing him.

With my free hand outstretched and my speed swift, I was prepared for the impact.

It never came.

A flash, a blur of black and white, darted by me and took Caligula up and through the hole.