Welsh Road (The Depravity Chronicles) (28 page)

BOOK: Welsh Road (The Depravity Chronicles)
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“What do you
mean?” Isabelle asked.

“I don’t know,”
Eleanor said. “I do know one thing, however. It is not a negative thing. I have
heard it said that sometimes the power contained within a talisman can grow
over time, even morph into something completely different.”

“What do you
mean?” Isabelle asked.

“Now who’s the
broken record?” Eleanor asked. “What I mean is not important. We won’t know
anything until we connect Jena with this talisman.”

“We are entering
this battle with such a limited amount of knowledge,” Isabelle said. “I’m not
sure I want to add to the confusion by throwing something like this into the
mix. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t tried to use physical contact and
proximity between Jena and the talisman. What makes you so sure it will work
now?”

“Because now
Jena has magic. How she got it remains a mystery. But we must do everything we
can to add to her arsenal.”

“True enough,”
Isabelle agreed, though still a bit apprehensive about the whole thing. In the
distance she could see the farmhouse, illuminated by the light streaming
through the windows.

Without warning,
Eleanor’s spirit form became distorted, accompanied by a crackling sound.

“Magical barrier!”
Eleanor exclaimed. “I’ll be…” but she was cut off by her own disappearance.

“Damn,” Isabelle
whispered to herself. She imagined that her arrival was anything but stealthy.
So rather than stalk behind the bushes and try to peek through the windows, she
simply walked right up to the front door and prepared to enter.

She wasn’t even
going to knock.

 

* * * * * *

2

Anna put her
hands on Trevor’s shoulders as they studied the remains of the Mantis Demons.

“That seemed a
little too easy,” Anna said.

“I’m sure that
having such intense firepower didn’t hurt,” Matthew said. 

“Well it
certainly alerted the entire forest to our arrival,” Anna added. “Though
something tells me that Nina is already aware of our whereabouts.”

“She probably
knows a lot more about us than that,” Sam said. He turned to Simon and Jena. “I
don’t know about you guys, but Nina doesn’t strike me as the type of person who
enters into a situation unprepared. If I had to wager a guess, I would say that
she is beyond prepared for this. I also got the impression that she is several
hundred years old, so it makes the old adage that much truer.
The devil is
in the details.

“The devil is
also a few hundred yards from where we’re standing,” Anish said.

“You mean she’s
not in the house?” Anna asked. “Oh, that’s comforting.”

“I seriously
doubt that these will kill her,” Trevor said as he gestured toward the duffel
bags, which were serving as their makeshift arsenal. “But do you think it will
even have an impact at all? Will she be affected by bullets?”

“If you’re
referring to the guns, I think it might slow her down a bit,” Anish answered.
“But no, they won’t kill her.”

“Not even the
silver bullets? Or wooden ones?” Anna asked.

“I wish we knew
what the hell she was,” Simon said. “If we knew that, then we would at least
have a working idea of what kind of weapon we would need in order to kill her.”

“I bet it would
work if we chopped her head off,” Jena offered.

“Yeah, and with
our luck she’d be like the freaking hydra,” Trevor said.

“What do you
mean?” Sam asked.

“The hydra is a
mythical Greek figure, kind of like a three-headed dragon,” Matthew answered.
“When you chopped one of its heads off, two more would grow to replace it.”

“Oh, that’s
lovely,” Anna said.

“Shit,” Jena
said harshly.

“What’s wrong?”
Simon asked.

She looked at
Anish, who nodded approvingly.
Here goes nothing
, she thought to
herself.

“It’s okay,”
Simon said. “Whatever you have to say, we’ve got your back.”

Jena smiled. “I
don’t want to freak you guys out, but I keep hearing voices in my head.”

“There’s a
shock,” Trevor quipped.

“Really?” Jena
snapped. “This is serious. I’m not crazy. Well, at least I don’t think so.”

“What are the
voices saying?” Matthew asked while giving Trevor a cross look.

“Well, I
shouldn’t have said
voices
,” Jena said, feeling like she was doing a
piss poor job of explaining herself. “It’s just one voice.”

“Do you know who
it is?” Matthew asked.

“It claims to be
me. And I believe her – or, I believe me.”

“What makes you
so sure it’s you?” Simon asked, his voice grave and his facial expression
solemn. Jena knew instantly that he both believed and had faith in her.

Jena shrugged.
“She told me that it was her who takes over my body when I have my blackouts.
When she talks, I can
feel
that it’s me. And it makes sense. I mean,
it’s kind of like multiple personalities or something. But not that severe.”

“That actually
does make sense,” Sam said. “I’m not as well educated in this kind of stuff as
the rest of you. But even before the events of last year, I have seen some
pretty crazy stuff and even crazier people. I don’t think Jena belongs on that
list.”

“I agree,” Anna
said. Everyone nodded and affirmed their confidence in Jena.

“Thanks, guys,”
Jena said, clearly moved by the unconditional support she was receiving from
the group.

“So did she – or
you – have anything else to say?” Simon asked.

“Not really,”
Jena answered. She kicked at the ground nervously.

“Why don’t I
believe you?” Anish asked.

“Um, well…” Jena
stuttered. “She told me that I had to unite with her. Like, meld our
consciousness together.”

“How in the hell
do you do that?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah, good
question,” Jena answered. Everyone looked to Anish for the answer.

“You know, I
don’t always have the answers,” he said, somewhat self-defensively.

“Geesh, Anish,”
Trevor quipped. “A little touchy are we?”

“Cut him some
slack,” Matthew said. “We are always expecting him to be a walking
encyclopedia.”

“That’s because
he usually is,” Anna pointed out.

“True enough,”
Anish said. “But in this case, I do not have a solution.” He turned to Jena,
putting his hands on her shoulders. “Jena, only you can do this. You have it in
you, I know you do.”

“Wow, no
pressure or anything,” Jena said. “It’s not like we’re not already surrounded
by creatures that want to kill us. I mean, all of this started, like,
last
night
!”

“I recognize
that this is a lot to handle,” Anish said.

“But our lives
may depend on it,” Jena groaned. “My voice told me that, too.”

“I don’t envy
you,” Trevor said. Everyone just looked at him. “I know. Not helpful.”

Just then, a
cold wind blew through the trees and chilled each of them to the bone.

“I think that
was a sign,” Jena said. “It means move your ass and stop standing around
chattering.”

“Here, here,”
Sam said. “Let’s get moving.”

They walked to
the farmhouse in relative silence. Each of them was expecting someone, or
something, to ambush them before they reached the porch. The tension, fear,
anxiety – you name it – was so thick they were nearly choking on it. Some
members of the group were wrestling with inner demons, brought about by crises
of confidence and a feeling of gross inadequacy and unpreparedness for what lay
ahead of them.

Anna was
remembering being under the Brickton mansion last year in pursuit of the
other
demon. Although there were some similarities to their current predicament,
this felt completely foreign to her. She felt less organized and more
vulnerable than she ever had in her life. Tonight, Anna was not the sheriff of
Crimson Falls. She was a sheriff and protector of humanity itself, charged with
the task of taking out a menacing threat to all that is good and decent. If
that weren’t enough, she was also worried about Trevor. Though on the surface
he appeared confident, she knew her son well enough to know that he seemed
distracted and off his game. She had to have faith that he would snap out of it
and reclaim his mojo. If this was the life he had chosen, he was going to have
to step it up and prove that he has what it takes to go head to head with the
supernatural.

Meanwhile,
Trevor’s torments were similar to those that were burdening his mother. He had
convinced himself that his resolve, talents, and general awesomeness would
steadily increase along with his experience and base of knowledge. At the
moment, however, he felt irrelevant and weak. And that pissed him off. Last
year he had been so certain the antagonist was a werewolf that he never
questioned himself. He and Simon were a force of nature in their own right. But
tonight, as he was nearing the porch, he felt as though he were at a
crossroads. They had no idea who or what Nina was. The unknown is a central
component of the life he had chosen. If he pissed himself now, like a five year
old, what would that mean for his future? For Simon?  Somehow Trevor needed to
redirect his anger and discouragement toward motivation and confidence. That
was the only way they’d defeat Nina. If not, one of two things would die: him
or his dreams.

Simon was
remarkably steadfast and unyielding. He sensed Trevor’s struggles, and
committed himself to protecting his brother. He was irritated with his intense
desire to hold Jena’s hand, to protect and defend her…even if that meant losing
his own life. At the same time, Simon had never felt more alive than he did in
this moment. Nina was a puzzle he had to solve. If he didn’t, he and the people
he loved most in this world would die a terrible death. With an IQ around 200,
Simon could outthink and outwit anyone, even if this bitch was centuries old
with infinite life experience. A morbid challenge lay before him: a super
genius and his impressive friends and family versus a super villainess and her
equally impressive army of the damned. May the best brain win.

Sam thought of his
wife Lisa, and then he was haunted by William Jackson’s lifeless body morphing
into a vampire. A true WTF moment, if ever there was one. When he left the FBI
so he and Lisa could relax in the northwestern woods of Minnesota, the only
drama in his life was how to reconnect with his biological kin, the Bricktons.
That was shot to hell when his brother Alan started hanging out with
demons…demons that he and the others had to kill. Sam glanced at the people
that surrounded him, and he realized that this was all the family he ever
needed. Like his wife, they understood him, they had his back, and they would
die for him if need be. It was hard to believe that he had made it this far
today. So why not just keep going? Nina will never know what hit her. It felt like
a good day for an evil creature to die.

Matthew prayed. This
was what he had been preparing for since he was 16 years old and saw his father
die. This was why he went to seminary, and why he always believed that The
Church’s teaching had always been too narrow when it came to the supernatural.
Matthew always knew that there were more than just angels and demons in the
world. But vampires? Really? He was still trying to process that one. Hell, why
not? Truthfully, if he could believe in an omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent,
and divine entity named God, along with said angels and demons, why would
vampires be such a stretch? When you think about it, what
isn’t
possible?
Matthew could feel in his gut that Nina was somehow connected to last year’s
demonic attack on Crimson Falls, and that meant that she was also responsible
for his best friend Pastor Amy’s death. It was time for her to pay for her
crimes. Eternal damnation was too generous for Nina. It was time to end her.

Although it had
initially freaked her out, Jena was now anxiously awaiting her inner voice to
start talking again.

Any words of
wisdom, other than don’t die?

No answer.

Jena thought of
her parents, and how odd her mother had been acting when they got home from the
hospital. On the one hand, it made sense because her mom was always worried
about her, always hovering. On the other hand, there was something weird going
on between them. Jena couldn’t put her finger on it, but she
knew
something
was different in her mom. Or maybe it had always been there and Jena just
hadn’t recognized it until she “came into her powers” or whatever.

Yes, you’re on
the right track
,
the voice said to her.

What track? You
mean Mom?

No answer.

As they neared
the porch, Jena had to refocus on the now. She could not afford to obsess about
her mother, or the voice inside her head, or any other distraction that might
get her killed. If she was going to unite her inner, subconscious witch with
her conscious self, it wasn’t going to be now. Jena needed to focus exclusively
on the task at hand, and it didn’t include mental exercises to become a whole
person, whatever the hell that meant.

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