The Paradise Prophecy

Thunder rumbled again and the floor rolled beneath them. Pieces of the ceiling began to crumble and fall and Callahan shouted, “Let’s get out of here. Go!”

But Brother Philip just stood there, frozen in place, as the temple crumbled around them. Callahan grabbed his arm, then yanked him around the table and through the doors as Batty snatched up his book bag and followed. The floor chattered and cracked, and he stumbled, nearly going down; but managed to stay upright and barreled out the door, dodging chunks of stone as he went.

And as they reached the main room, they stopped cold, staring wide-eyed at a woman standing in the open doorway, silhouetted against the malevolent sky.

She smiled. Stared directly at Batty.

“I have a little bone to pick with you.”

The redhead. And despite himself, Batty felt a sudden tingling in his loins.

She was mesmerizing.

“That wasn’t very nice what you did to me on that plane,” she said.

“After all we’ve been to each other, I’d think you’d show me a little more respect.”

Visions of their night together filled his head, and he knew she was doing this to him. Feeding these images into his brain. He tried to resist, but her hold on him was strong, and he could feel himself giving in to her.

She gestured to his book bag. “You can start by giving me that manuscript. I think it might be just what I’ve been looking for.”

The temple rocked again, parts of the wall crumbling, and Batty clutched the book bag to his side, mustering up every bit of his will. “Forget it,” he said.

“Come on, now, Sebastian. I promise you’ll enjoy the reward…”

Callahan turned to him now. “Who the hell is this chick?”

Belial shifted her gaze. “You don’t recognize me, Bernadette? I’m the one who sang you to sleep today. I sang your daddy to sleep, too.”

Her smiled widened.

As Batty watched, Callahan’s expression shifted from confusion to realization then to outright fury.

Then she said, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

With a shriek of rage, she took a flying, headlong leap at Belial, but Belial seemed to have anticipated this. She sidestepped and swung an arm out, hitting Callahan with an invisible blow. It knocked her sideways, into a pillar, and she hit it with a grunt, dropping to the floor.

The dark clouds behind Belial rumbled and rolled. “The manuscript, Sebastian. Give me the manuscript.”

“Why do you want it? What’s in it?”

“A guarantee,” she said. “But that’s not your concern, is it? Just give it to me now, or I’ll hurt your little-”

A gunshot rang out. Then another.

Batty jerked his head around and Brother Philip had his pistol raised, shakily aiming it at Belial. The bullets ricochet around her and he adjusted his aim and fired again. The third bullet rocketed straight toward Belial and she shot a hand in the air, catching it in her palm.

“Quaint,” she said, then suddenly whipped the hand out, flinging the bullet right back at Brother Philip. A dark red hole opened up between his eyes, and he slumped to his knees, the gun slipping from his fingers.

He croaked once, then fell forward onto his face.

Thunder rumbled and the floor shifted again, Batty struggling to maintain his balance as he looked in horror at Philip’s body.

“Such a shame,” Belial said. “I so wanted to have some fun with him.” She looked at Batty. “Last chance, Sebastian. Give me the manuscript or-”

Callahan came out of nowhere. A flying tackle straight to Belial’s gut. The redhead screeched as Callahan wrapped her arms around her, and the two tumbled through the doorway and down the steps, disappearing from view.

The floor shifted and swayed as more debris showered down around Batty. Staggering toward Brother Philip, he snatched up the gun and ran outside.

Callahan and Belial were at the bottom of the steps, Callahan straddling her now, reaching for her throat. But then, in the blink of an eye, Belial vanished, and Callahan tumbled forward. A split second later, Belial was behind her, delivering a kick to Callahan’s ribs.

Callahan grunted and tumbled sideways. But to Batty’s surprise, she was on her feet again in an instant, bringing her arms up in a combat stance. Batty had seen what she’d done to Ajda, but Belial wasn’t any sycophant and wouldn’t be so easily tamed. Still, the body she occupied was human-and built for seduction, not fighting-and she could feel pain just like anyone else.

He considered using the manuscript on her again, but she was so entrenched in this particular skin that he doubted it would have any effect on her. And he didn’t want to risk her taking it away from him. She seemed to believe that there was something special about it, that it had some special power-a guarantee, she’d said-and he’d be damned if he put that power in her hands.

As she lunged for Callahan, he raised the pistol, aimed for her back, then squeezed off a shot. It hit home and Belial grunted, stumbling forward, blood pumping out from a hole just below her shoulder blade. Batty thought he’d feel joy in putting a bullet into the creature who had killed his wife, but it was a joyless act.

All he felt was contempt.

Belial whirled and glared at him, her eyes angrier than he’d ever seen them-a hot, luminescent yellow. Then the ground began to shake harder than ever, chunks of stone breaking away from the temple walls and shooting out like mortar fire, slamming into the earth around him. She swiped an arm in his direction and the impact to his chest was as sharp and painful as if she’d delivered the blow directly. The gun went flying as he tumbled back onto the temple steps, the wind knocked out of him.

Taking advantage of the moment, Callahan advanced on Belial and swung out, landing a solid punch to her throat. Belial made a gagging sound and staggered back, grabbing her neck-

– but Callahan kept moving forward. She shifted her body sideways and kicked out, the sole of her boot landing smack in the middle of Belial’s gut.

Across the yard, the pilot-McNab-was climbing out of the helicopter, staring at them in utter disbelief.

Even from this distance, Batty could see the panic in his eyes, and he knew what was coming next. He tried to call out to McNab, but no words would come, he could barely breathe.

Then McNab scrambled back into the helicopter, and a moment later, the whine of its engines filled the air as the rotors started whirling.

He was about to leave them behind.

“Stop!” Batty shouted, finally able to breathe, but his voice was drowned out by the roar of the rotors and the rumbling of the sky.

Chunks of the temple showered down around them as Callahan continued her assault, fueled by anger, punching and kicking, knocking Belial back.

But Belial wasn’t close to being down or out, and she suddenly vanished-

– only to reappear behind Callahan again.

Then Belial was advancing, waving her hand like a wand, each wave sending a jolt of energy in Callahan’s direction, Callahan grunting and stumbling, trying to recover but finding it harder and harder with each new blow.

Batty spotted the gun where it had fallen and clamored across the steps, reaching for it, getting it in his grip. Pulling himself upright, he aimed again and squeezed the trigger-

– but the gun clicked. Empty.

Shit.

And now Callahan was on the ground, and he could see that she was weakening. She tried to strike out, but Belial knocked her back with another invisible blow. Then the redhead moved forward and stood over Callahan, blood pouring from the wound below her shoulder blade.

Raising her voice so that she could be heard over the roar of the rotors, she said, “Give me the manuscript, Sebastian, or I’ll rip her head off and drink her fucking blood.”

And Batty had no doubt she’d do it. No doubt at all.