Resurrection (22 page)

No stranger to being hit, instinct took over. I rolled to my feet and raised my .45. My vision cleared as I settled into a defensive posture.

I really didn’t like what I saw.

Not five feet away stood Marcus, defined by the gun he was pointing at my face. It was the one he’d stolen from me not too long ago. Loaded with angel/demon slaying bullets, the barrel-end wasn’t the side I wanted to be on. With God and Lucifer on hiatus, death had become a permanent condition. One I hoped to avoid.

Marcus, on the other hand, was all for putting me in a hole. He didn’t hesitate to put the gun to use. I saw the muzzle flash as I dove into the fog. The sudden, searing agony that lit up my side told me I hadn’t been fast enough.

Once more I hit the ground, pain shooting down my leg and across my chest in nerve-shattering waves, my stomach roiling. I fought down the nausea and used my momentum to carry me over into a crouch, bringing my gun up as I did.

Through clenched teeth and watery eyes, I realized it was too late. Marcus had followed me. He stood in front of me, the deadly abyss of his gun barrel just inches from the bridge of my nose. I closed my eyes.

I could handle dying if that’s what it came down to, but knowing it was Marcus who‘d be hammering in the last nail was a serious kick in the balls. As if realizing what I was thinking, he chuckled low in his throat, no doubt savoring the moment.

Hunkering down, I heard the creak of his knuckle as he squeezed the trigger just before the discharge silenced the world. A wave of blistering heat smacked me in the face and I tumbled back, clutching to my head. My skull throbbed, a thunderstorm of hurt. A warm wetness oozed across my palm and down my arm as I writhed in pain, sinking into the fog of Limbo. A cold blackness settled in.

“Frank!”

I heard my name called from a distance, muddied and shrill. It took me a second, but I recognized the voice. It was Veronica. I tried to answer, but the darkness, eager to drag me down, filled my mouth, choking me.

She cried out again. Desperation colored her voice. There was something else there as well, something sharp and acidic; angry.

Suddenly a burning pain exploded in my shin. My eyes snapped open to see my ex-wife standing over me, drawing back her foot to kick me again. Fury scarred her beautiful face. Marcus was nowhere to be seen.

“Get the fuck up, asshole. I need you.” She leapt away at the crack of gunfire, bullets whistling past.

Staying down, using the fog as cover, I felt my head and realized rather sheepishly that Marcus had only grazed my skull. But add that to the seeping wound in my side, I was lucky to be alive. With an eye on remaining so, I scanned the shifting clouds to find where the last batch of gunfire had come from. The third time wouldn’t be a charm.

At the edge of my vision was Poe, the haze parting before him as he advanced. Calm and cool, he tracked Veronica, looking for a clean shot. She did her damndest to not give it to him.

Off to my left, pulling himself up from the murky fog was Marcus. His back was stained in red, leaking steadily from the deep gouge between his shoulder blades. I understood then how the bastard missed. Veronica had saved me. The realization warmed my crotch and made me sick to my stomach at the same time. She’d gone against Baalth, risking Marcus’s life to rescue me. The possible consequences for that were unimaginable, though we both knew it’d be horrific. Despite it all, she did it anyway.

If we survived, she was never gonna let me live that down.

With no time to worry about it, I went after Marcus, doing my best to ignore the screaming agony in my side. He’d gotten to his feet and zoned back in one me, his face a mass of twisted snarls. He lost his gun when Veronica hit him, so I didn’t have to worry about him shooting me. Sad part was, even though I still had mine, I couldn’t shoot him either. Marcus didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

As we barreled toward each other, his head down like a charging bull. I readied to meet him, calling out to Veronica, “Go after Poe, but don’t kill him.”

I heard her curse-laden response from somewhere in the fog, answered by a gunshot, just as Marcus hovered over me. No time to explain further, I ducked under his bulk and used his momentum against him. I grabbed one of his grasping arms and twisted it to toss him, spinning him about in midair. He flew past and landed hard on his back. The air was knocked from his lungs in a whistled grunt.

He was already scrambling to his feet when I went after him. “They’re being controlled. You can’t kill them!” I shouted out again, making sure Veronica understood what we were dealing with.

While I couldn’t put a bullet in Marcus, nothing stopped me from using my gun. As he struggled to get to his feet, I slammed the butt of my .45 into his temple, the sound like cracking a side of beef with a baseball bat.

He groaned and rolled with the blow, getting to his knees, but I could see by his eyes swimming in their dark sockets. I’d gotten him good. It didn’t matter though. Marcus was as tough as they come and all it’d take for him to recover was a second. I didn’t give it to him.

I followed up with a left hook, my fist crashing into his jaw and snapping his head to the side. He fell back, bloody spittle spraying from his mouth like a sprinkler. Before he even hit the ground, I was on top of him.

Once more I put my gun to use, smashing its chromed surface across the side of his head. He bucked underneath me, stunned, but unwilling to concede. So with growing satisfaction, I struck him again, and again, and again, each blow resounding against his skull like a thumped watermelon. He fought back with everything he had, but blow after blow I beat the fight out of him. Just when I thought I’d have to kill him to keep him down, he went limp beneath me. I gave him one more for good measure and stood up off him.

His face was a puddle of crimson, blood streaming from his head and pooling in his eye sockets, nose, and mouth. His ragged breath came out in wet gasps, tiny bubbles forming at his nose. Not wanting him to drown in his own blood, no matter how satisfying it might be to watch it happen, I rolled him to his side. His labored breathing eased as a river of red ran free from his mouth.

Satisfied he wasn’t getting up anytime soon, I looked for Veronica. I spotted her standing over the crumpled form of Poe, her sword in her hand. My stomach convulsed as I ran over, dropping down beside him to feel for a pulse.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him,” she told me as the subtle thump of his heart confirmed her words.

Relieved, I stood, giving her a grateful smile. She didn’t return it.

She bent down, turning Poe’s washed-out face to me. “Do you see this? They’re under the control of a succubus. What aren’t you telling me, Frank?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that none, sweetheart,” a voice behind us said, the grating southern twang giving away the man’s identity before we’d even turned to face him.

Ten feet from us stood Henry McConnell, The Gray. A crooked smile shone on his creased face. “You ain’t gonna be alive long enough for it t’matter.”

Gray sparks exploded in circles around McConnell’s hands as his magic flared to life. The shimmering glow engulfed his fists, the energy in the air building. My senses screamed as they felt his power amping up. He was playing for keeps, looking to put us out to pasture.

Inconvenient and unwelcome as it was, a spark of chivalry flickered to life somewhere inside me, overwhelming my self-preservation. I shoved Veronica aside, hoping to at least save her, and turned my gun on the wizard. He raised his arm at the same time. It was gonna be close.

Before I could pull the trigger, I saw his power flicker, sputter incandescence, then die. McConnell’s face went slack. His eyes wide, he stared off at nothing for a moment, twitched like his wiring was crossed, and then collapsed into a heap.

My heart in my throat, my balls reluctant to leave the safety of my ass, I ran over to him. He was still alive, but his breathing was shallow. Not taking any chances, I tore his shirt off and used it to bind his arms behind him. Once he was secure, I looked him over.

There was a dark stain spreading across the bandages at his stomach. Apparently, Lilith’s power to rejuvenate her minions had its limits. The wound Karra gave him had torn open, the stitches ripping free. Still seriously hurt despite DRAC’s best efforts, his body weakened from the abuse of Lilith’s control, his attempt to cast magic had been too much for it to handle.

Now it seemed I owed another woman for saving my life today, however indirectly. It was a good thing I didn’t have any pride left.

Over my shoulder Veronica growled. “Tell me what’s going on, Triggaltheron.”

She used my proper name, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on edge. She knew how much I hated it. She also knew it’d get my attention.

The cat out of the bag, there was no point in dancing around the truth. “Lilith told me where I could find the guys.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits, their cold blue piercing. “My mother was your informant? And you trusted her?”

I waggled my finger. “I never said I trusted her, but hers was the only lead I had.”

Veronica started to pace. “Damn it, Frank. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but we’re not exactly playing for the same team.” I could tell that hurt her, her lower lip inching out. She’d have to get over it. I wasn’t in the mood to baby her feelings. “I’ve been chasing my tail since the start, and while I know I’m being used by everyone to muddy the waters, I’m here to end it.” I gestured to Poe. “Your mother may have just given me the means to do so.”

Veronica glared at me, unwilling to let it go. After a drawn out moment of silence, she relented. “How?”

“You said you couldn’t track into Limbo, is that right?”

She sighed, nodding meekly.

“I presume that applies to Lilith as well?”

Again she nodded.

“So that means she has no idea whether her trap has worked.”

“So?” she shrugged. “She’ll know the minute you pop up alive that you’re on to her. She’ll just come after you herself.”

I grinned big. “I’m counting on it.”

Veronica looked at me as though I was crazy. She was probably right.

“Until then, I’ve got a few minutes to stack the deck in my favor.” I looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

Her hands on her hips, Veronica huffed, reading my expression as if my thoughts were printed on my face. “What do you need from me?”

“Information first.” She cringed. “Since you didn’t know Lilith was involved, or that she was even in the area, is it safe to assume succubi can’t track one another?”

She surprised me by not holding back. “No, we can’t.”

Nodding, I pointed to the battered trio. “What about them? Can you do anything to straighten their heads out?”

Veronica shook her head. “My mother’s influence is much stronger than mine. I could put the hooks in, but they would still follow whatever directives she put in place, overruling mine. Baalth could free them, though.”

Satisfied with that answer, I went on. “One last question: I know you can’t possess me, and I presume that applies to all demons and angels, but are there other beings you can’t assume control over?”

A confident smile, bordering on arrogance, illuminated her full lips. “Outside of the most powerful of supernatural bloodlines, if they have sentience, I can make them dance.”

That’s what I wanted to hear. “Good. Now here’s what I need you to do.”

Chapter Nineteen

“I don’t care what you say, I’m not kissing
that
!” Veronica’s lips were screwed into a tight pucker of disgust, her hands planted on her hips.

“But he knows where Reven is.” I held up Chatterbox, whose petulant smile ran from ear to ear. The fact that most of his cheeks had rotted away helped, but he was no doubt just as interested in Veronica’s kiss as she was in avoiding his.

“
Kiiissssyyyppooo
,
poooooo
,
kiiiiiiisssssss
,” he muttered, his tongue lolling.

“It’s bad enough I had to carry it here, but if you think I’m putting my mouth anywhere near that thing, you can go fuck a dread fiend. Now, get that nasty—”

Baalth growled, his voice like two tectonic plates colliding. “Do it.”

She snarled and met the demon’s turbulent eyes. The rumbling aftershock of his anger quelled her revolt in an instant. Head hung low, she turned back to me.

“Are you sure he knows?”

I held Chatterbox out to her. “He’s still animated, which means the link to his master is still active. He might not know where he is on a conscious level, but he feels the pull of Reven’s will, and that’ll lead us right to our missing necro.”

Veronica rocked back and forth, mustering the fortitude to follow Baalth’s order. She didn’t want to do it, and while I certainly understood why, we weren’t sitting on a font of options. If we were gonna find Reven in time to keep Longinus from being raised, we needed to get on it. There wasn’t time for her squeamish reluctance. I gave her a stern look and wiggled Chatterbox in front of her.