Unconcerned with his death at that moment, intent upon stopping Lilith, I doubled my effort to get to her. She’d reached Longinus and was bent over him, gently pulling the silken shroud over him. Suddenly, the sea of minions parted, zombies and ghouls dropping to the ground in fleshy heaps, their magical link to life severed as Reven’s heart stilled inside his chest. A pang of sadness rattled in the background of my mind. Though I inwardly celebrated Reven’s death, I couldn’t help but feel the loss of Chatterbox, his energies tied to the necromancer. It was a sad day in Metalville.
Pushing that all aside, I raised my guns and took aim, imagining the ruin of Lilith’s beautiful face as my bullets exploded through it. My glorious vision, however, was interrupted as something struck the back of my legs, sweeping them out from beneath me. I had a split-second of surprise and weightlessness before I hit the ground hard, the back of my head whiplashing into the asphalt with a violent crack. The momentum of the fall rolled me over and I came to a seated stop. With my head ringing like an ensemble of cathedral bells, I gulped in a deep breath, shook my head to get my eyes to work, and looked to see if I could get the license plate of the truck that hit me.
I knew even before I saw her, who it had been: Karra.
With only one of her blades drawn, she closed the distance between her and Lilith, navigating the obstacle course of gaunts and fallen undead with catlike grace. The world slid into focus as everything came together in my mind and I realized what her plan had been all along.
She slipped behind Lilith, her free arm wrapping like a snake’s coil around the succubus’s throat. Lilith’s sea- green eyes sprang wide, any complaints she might have had were silenced by the stranglehold. Her hands grasped at Karra’s arm with frightened tenacity, nails biting into her captor’s flesh.
In a fair fight, strength for strength, I’d have given the advantage to Lilith, her power built up over an immeasurable lifespan. But this wasn’t anything resembling a fair fight. Before she had the chance to adjust and grapple her way free, Karra ran her through.
I saw a foot and a half of blooded silver erupt from Lilith’s chest, her face reflecting the agony she couldn’t voice. Then she went limp, her body a rag doll, the poison of Karra’s sword mainlining through her system. Alive, though just barely, the blade having pierced her heart, Lilith could do nothing but wait as her life came to an end.
In silent triumph, Karra held Lilith over her father’s body and tore the blade free, yanking it out to the side for maximum carnage. Steaming black blood spewed from the gaping wound, showering Longinus with the vital fluid. Prodding the flaps of the open gash to speed its crimson exodus, Karra maneuvered the dying succubus’s body so that her father was covered from head to toe with blood. Then seemingly satisfied, she cast Lilith aside, the succubus a rigid lump. Though Karra’s face was awash with pleasure, she held her ground in a defensive posture, ready to protect her father.
As she stood waiting, the air erupted with razor-throated screams, my eardrums rattling deep inside. I looked over to see Daartan upon his knees, the ruin of his enemies scattered about him waist-deep, in slaughtered pieces. His eyes, and those of his knights, were nailed to Longinus, their whirling yellow tinged with something I’d never imagined seeing there: fear.
It was then I felt a stirring in the air, an ephemeral shift that tickled my senses, light as a spider upon its web. My heart beat a tattoo in my chest as the gentle spark of presence built into a sputtering lick of flame. I looked back at Longinus, the gray pallor of his flesh, where the blood has soaked in, already began to show the tiniest splotches of pink. My stomach twisted tighter than a Slinky in the hands of a toddler as his resurrection played out before me. I felt sick with the realization Reven hadn’t been needed for the last step. Now with the process begun, there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was out of my hands. At least at the rate it was progressing, I’d be dead before the Anti-Christ returned. How comforting.
I glanced over at Lilith, her glassy eyes filled with tears, the silver of their passage glistening on her cheeks. She’d been right. Reven had needed powerful blood to bring Longinus back to life. She just hadn’t known it would be hers.
It must have been an emotional moment for her, laying there beside her ex-lover, watching life return to his cold body while hers slipped away, leaking out into a puddle on the cold tarmac. Not that I felt sorry for her, or anything. The bitch had it coming. There wasn’t enough compassion in the world to get me to shed a tear over her passing, but all things considered, there was far more danger wrought by her death than her continued existence.
Daartan must have realized that as well. Back on his feet, he swept aside the pitiful remains of Lilith’s minions that stood before him, those that hadn’t already fled, and went after Karra. His knights remained behind.
Huddling together, they began to chant, their voices rising up in a wailing dirge. The light of their presence dimmed to a dull, flickering while Daartan’s flesh began to grow brighter, more vibrant. Infused with a brilliant hue, he seemed to absorb the light of his followers.
As he streaked forward, his voice was like a million banshees, distorted and deafening, full of murderous intent. He leapt at Karra, his sword arcing downward to split her in two.
She raised her own sword and leaned into the attack. Their blades collided with a metallic clang, just inches above her crossguard, before she spun away to slash at his legs. While only the tip seemed to pass through the apparition’s glowing flesh, he let out an irritated growl, rivulets of light seeping from the wound. Blustering aside, the injury did nothing to slow him, the poison having no effect. In fact, it seemed only to provoke him, infuriate him.
Daartan pressed harder, swinging his sword with reckless aggression. He used his strength and reach to stifle her quickness and keep her at the end of his blade. In response, Karra went on the defensive, parrying his blows in a flurry of twists and acrobatic turns, but still he drove her back. Inch by inch, she was forced away from her father’s body. I could see her arms trembling as their swords clashed together, their impact throwing off glistening sparks that exploded about them.
Her lips pulled back in a pained sneer at each clanging collision, tiny, red wounds appearing wherever the fiery tracers struck. After but a moment, the amassed wounds ran free, a crimson robe flowing down her body. Daartan continued forward, a merciless juggernaut, offering her no respite. Her trembles turned to shakes, then to shudders. Moment by moment, he was wearing her down.
More a technician, a maestro of technique and tactics, Karra could find no answer to the riddle of Daartan’s fury, no doubt bolstered by the mystical conviction of his revenants. She danced and weaved, trying to slip in a delaying stroke between harrowed defenses, but the Knight’s relentless assault kept her at bay. Under the constant pressure, her guard dropping lower after each blow, she stumbled, barely managing to avoid being cut down. The next time her guard fell, it would never rise again.
I couldn’t let that happen.
Though I didn’t have any horses in this race, at least none still in the running, my conscience wouldn’t let me sit back and watch Karra be killed, even if she had used me. But really, what woman hadn’t? If I let that be the deciding factor as to who I saved, there wouldn’t be a woman I knew left alive.
So as Daartan raised his stolen sword to deliver the deathblow, I shook the last of the cobwebs off, and put two in his back. He howled as the supernaturally charged bullets tore through him, explosions of illumination bursting from his chest. He spun about in a howling storm of light, Karra forgotten in the molten moment of his anger. His yellow eyes whirled like wild dervishes, more with surprise than pain.
He caught two more for his attitude, for all the good they did.
While I knew the revenant was tough, I’d never seen anyone shrug off the D/A slayers so easily. Not even the demon Asmoday, a top lieutenant in Lucifer’s army, took it so well. Daartan didn’t even blink when the bullets blew through him, tendrils of smoky luminescence uncoiling out of his back. He just smiled and charged as though I’d never even shot him at all.
“You’ve sealed your fate, devil-spawn.”
Caught off guard by his reaction, or lack thereof, I panicked. I admit it. After the beating he laid on me and Katon out at the ranch, I knew from firsthand experience this wasn’t a fight I was gonna win. It wasn’t even a fight I’d wanted to get into, let alone now that I’d seen the full extent of his power. I let my feelings get in the way and so there I was, my nuts in a bundle, while a rampaging ghost with a magical sword charged at me as though we were reenacting the Lizzie Borden murders.
Spoiler alert: Everyone but Lizzie ends up hacked to pieces.
