CHAPTER FOURTEEN
There were monsters in the darkness.
But as Remy dragged Ashley around Deacon’s property, he hoped they would be safe as long as they stayed close to the patches of light thrown from the house. There had been an all-too-familiar flash moments ago that had driven many of the larger beasts back into the depths of the shadows.
Remy was weak. He was amazed that he was actually moving, the need to get Ashley back to her family probably lending him strength, but he knew it wouldn’t last. He had remembered that Scrimshaw had driven the old car around to the back of the house and figured there’d be a garage of some sort back there. That was their objective now: get to the car and drive back across the Shadow Lands, hopefully finding some way out.
The mansion was still in turmoil, but at least the alarm had been silenced. Primitive golems rushed about, making repairs and clearing debris. The chaos helped shield Ashley and Remy’s movements as they crept around to the back of the house.
And there was the garage. Remy had been right.
They stopped behind the skeletal remains of a bush, backs pressed against the house, and Remy took a moment to check Ashley. The girl was breathing heavily, eyes red from so much more than crying. He could imagine what this was like for her, and that just strengthened his resolve to get her home.
He studied the scene before him. The old vintage car that had brought him to the estate was parked outside the multicar garage. Light from a spotlight over the open door of one of the bays illuminated the area in a green- tinged glow. Two golems stumbled about the vehicle, cleaning it with rags.
Remy turned, leaning in close to Ashley’s ear so that she could hear his whisper.
“We’re going to take that car,” he told her. “Your job is to get inside; that’s it. I’ll take care of everything else. Do you understand?”
He looked into her eyes, hoping to see some trace of the vibrant young woman he had watched grow up on Beacon Hill, but only a shadow of that person remained.
A shadow would have to do.
“Follow me,” he said, still holding tightly to her hand.
There was nothing to hide their approach, so Remy waited until the two golems turned their stone backs. He tugged on Ashley’s hand and started across the expanse of driveway, dragging her behind him.
The vehicle was a four-door limousine, and he aimed her toward the driver’s-side rear door.
“Get in,” he called out.
The golem that had been cleaning the windshield reacted at once, silently charging at him.
Remy met the attack, grabbing hold of the stone man’s face and using all the strength he had remaining to shove the creature away. It was like pushing aside a brick wall, but he managed nonetheless, and the golem tumbled backward to the ground.
He turned quickly as Ashley began to scream. The other golem was attempting to drag her from the car. Remy threw an arm around its throat, hauling the stone man away from her. The golem attempted to reach behind itself, stone fingers grabbing hold of Remy’s shirt, and with a burst of unnatural strength, pulled Remy over its shoulder, slamming him against the side of the car.
Remy dropped headfirst to the ground, vision clearing just in time to see the golem reaching for him, and the other that he had knocked to the ground advancing.
Scrambling to get to his feet, he tried with all that he had remaining inside to stir his angelic nature, but it seemed so very far away. The closest of the golems grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him up from the ground. Remy watched as it pulled back its ill-defined arm of stone, clenching a fist with the sound of rock grating against rock. Remy realized that if he took this hit, it would likely rip his head off.
The creature threw its punch, and Remy reacted, angling his head downward, feeling the breeze of cold stone as it passed across his cheek. The golem was off-balance. Remy took a risk, placing his leg between and behind the golem’s pillarlike limbs. He then surged forward, putting all his weight behind a thrust that drove the stone man back, making him trip over Remy’s leg.
The golem went down on his back, but that still left the other to grab at him with both hands.
The tire iron connected with the other golem’s simple face, breaking away part of its primitive nose and part of its cheek. It actually appeared stunned, stumbling back a bit, hands going to its damaged face. Remy was a little stunned, as well, turning to see Ashley standing there, ready to swing the cross-shaped metal tool again.
They were far from out of trouble, but she had bought them some time.
“Get in,” Remy told her, and, still holding the tire iron, she jumped into the backseat as he climbed behind the steering wheel.
At least there was a little bit of luck to be had. The keys were still in the ignition, and Remy turned over the engine just as the golem began to lumber toward the car. He threw it in reverse with a grinding of gears and drove the car backward, away from the stone men. But still they came, arms outstretched.
Remy put the old car in drive, gunning the engine and driving right at the pair. They showed no signs of moving, and he plowed into them, scattering them like bowling pins as he continued across the yard, taking a sharp turn and driving around to the front of the house.
He kept his eyes on the road before him illuminated in the glow of one headlight. The closed metal gate loomed before him.
“Hang on,” Remy told Ashley, quickly glancing at her in the rearview mirror. She sat in the center of backseat, clutching the tire iron like a crucifix to her chest.
Remy stamped down hard on the gas. Holding tightly to the wheel, he gritted his teeth as the front of the car struck the center of the wrought-iron gate, tearing both sides from their worn hinges.
Driving into the total darkness, away from the estate, Remy chanced a look behind him in the rearview. He saw Scrimshaw standing just beyond the gate.
And the golem with the elaborate facial tattoos was blowing them a kiss good-bye.
Armaros of the angelic host Grigori continued to gaze out the window of the skyscraper overlooking an awakening Boston. But he did not see the city sprawling below him.
Instead he saw another place, another time, when their kind had been sent to the world of man to fulfill the most special of purposes. They were to observe the newly emerging human species, to guide them away from wrong, if sin should entice.
They were to be humanity’s watchers, there to prevent the Almighty’s favored young race from straying from the path of righteousness.
Armaros remembered how amused they had all been by their mission. These creatures had already defied the Lord of lords, and had been evicted from Paradise, yet still God loved them and wanted them to succeed.
But there was something about this species.
None of them really knew what had happened. Perhaps the Watchers had felt the same kind of love for them that the Creator had. But whatever it was that had caused it, the Watchers had found themselves enmeshed in the day-to-day lives of the young species, teaching them things that they were not meant to know.
And, in turn, the Grigori were taught the ways of humanity-of desire and the pleasures of the flesh. In a way, the Grigori had become human, and that, in turn, had taken them down a most dangerous path.
They had tutored the humans in the art of weapons making, of astrology and astronomy, of adornment and cosmetics.
And some they taught the ways of magick.
Armaros believed that was what had annoyed the Lord God most and was the reason for their punishment.
The Creator had stripped them of their wings and denied them entrance to the Kingdom of Heaven. They were banished to the earth, almost as if to say, “If you love them so much, you will live with them for all eternity.”
At first it wasn’t so bad, for humanity worshipped them, but then they began to feel the pangs of what they had lost.
If it wasn’t for their leader, they would have surely gone mad.
