Immediately, the nanofluid inside his suit squirted a stream into the lock mechanism. A visual popped up on the HUD and showed the locking mechanism’s interior as well as thenanofluid’s progress into it.
“Key is ready,” the AI announced.
Simon twisted and felt the tumblers rolling over as the key worked the lock. He let the Spike Bolter nose into the room ahead of him, of that never far enough that anyone could easily take it away from him.
An oozing tendril suddenly wrapped around Simon’s wrist and yanked. As the AIloosed a warning, Simon tried to set himself. But it was too late. Whatever had hold of him of was incredibly strong. He left his feet as he sailed into the room and the waiting darkness.
And in the darkness, something huge moved.
TWENTY-SIX
Heat slammed into Warren as he was pulled through the dark current that gripped him. He didn’t know how much time had passed. Fear throbbed electricallyinside him. Usually he could change his vision so that he could see wherever he was. That had been one of the earliest uses of his powers he discovered. But when he tried to use that power now, nothing happened.
He reached for Naomi’s hands. Although he could feel them almost within hisgrasp, he couldn’t quite take hold of them.
“Don’t struggle,” the voice said. “You’re only making things more difficult.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“To meet Fulaghar’s first lieutenant. As I said I would.”
Warren tried to catch hold of Naomi’s hands again, but failed. He called hername. There was no answer.
So much for being able to pull me out in case I get into trouble, he thought.
“The spell will work when it needs to,” the voice said. “At this point youdon’t need to fear anything from me.”
“Are we going where the book is?”
“Yes. Fulaghar has recently found out where it was.”
“How?”
“Fulaghar has many resources. He’s struck many deals with demons and humans alike. Merihim isn’t the only one to use humans tosuit his purposes.”
Neither of them are, Warren thought.
“All of us have uses for other people. You have Naomi waiting for you withinthe protected circle. Before that you had Kelli.”
Guilt stung Warren again at the thought of destroying the Kelli zombie. She had been gone before he knew it.
“Prepare yourself,” the voice warned. “I can’t protect you here in thisplace. You’ll have to care for yourself.”
Nervous anxiety thrummed through Warren as the darkness around him seemed to grow less dense. “Where will you be?”
“I can’t go with you here. You’ll be on your own. Fulaghar’s lieutenant,Hargastor, searches the underground labyrinth for the manuscript at his master’srequest. If you find him there, he’ll know you.”
“How? We’ve never met.”
“Fulaghar has your scent. Once he knows you, all of his people know you.”
“How will I kill Hargastor?”
“Don’t confront him. Kill him from behind.”
“I can’t just ask him to turn around.”
“There are others down here. Be careful.”
The sensation of moving ceased. Warren hung in the empty blackness for just a moment. He still distrusted the voice.
“We’re inextricably linked, you and I. I’ve waited over a thousand years tobe able to speak to someone again. I cherish you. I don’t want anything tohappen to you.”
Warren wanted to believe that. He held on to that thought as the darkness around and dissipated. He felt the voice leave his mind, but he still felt Naomi with him.
In the next instant, solid ground was once more beneath his feet. He felt like gravity had increased tenfold because his legswould not hold him. Despite his best efforts, he dropped to one knee. And when he blinked his eyes open, he saw horror all around him.
The creature that held Simon suspended in the air was so malformed that he had first didn’t recognize it. The Templar had never learned a proper name forthe monstrosity before him. It was a thing of nightmare, and for a long time Templar historians believed that was what it was: a fever dream on part of a warrior next to death.
Except that the description had kept occurring. Again and again, warriors that had sought out the demons had heard stories about creatures like the one that held Simon. In the end they had simply called it a Grotesque. The name suited, even if it didn’t aptly describe the monster.
Grotesques came in different sizes, depending on the materials they had at hand when they were assembled. None of the Templar knew how the horrible things were brought to undead life in the fashion that they were, but they had seen them on occasion in the streets of London these days.
This one was as big as a cargo van. Simon guessed that at least thirty or forty corpses had gone into the Grotesque’s manufacture. Although he had neverseen a Grotesque put together, Simon had seen them come apart. Even through the palladium armor, he felt the buzzing pulse of the arcane energies that bound the corpses into one large entity.
The demon was a mass of roiling flesh. Arms and legs, heads and trunks, all writhed across the monster. Hands grasped Simon and feet lashed out at him. Some of those hands held weapons and the Grotesque somehow accumulated intelligence as a gestalt that was not present in the individual parts. The whole was greater than the pieces.
A pair of arms swung a fire ax into Simon’s faceshield. The impact droveSimon’s head back, but the faceshield received no damage. A misshapen head withstumps of broken teeth grinned at him. The head was so battered and ragged that Simon could no longer tell what the original gender had been.
Simon tried to swing the Spike Bolter toward the head, but a leg kicked out and pinned his arm against the ceiling. Three rough hands with no more than eight fingers between them caught hold of Simon’s head and yanked at his helmet.
“Simon!” Nathan roared over the suit comm.
A glance at the HUD showed Simon that the
