The Fallen 4: Forsaken Paperback - 2012

Summary

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

No matter how he looked at it, the Nephilim had failed.

Troubled thoughts played through Aaron CorbetâÈçs mind, over and over again, day in and day out as he fought the forces of darkness that had risen because of the NephilimâÈçs monumental defeat.

With the sound of fluttering wings and the rending of time and space, Aaron returned to the abandoned Saint Athanasius School and Orphanage, which had become the NephilimâÈçs home. He smelled of the sweat of violence, and was covered in the blood of monsters. Even the small victories they managed were not enough to take away the true stink of their failure.

Aaron opened his wings in the former library that now served as their television room, to see that he wasnâÈçt the first to return. He could hear the chatter of one of the twenty-four-hour news channels they always had on now.

The Nephilim, the blending of humanity and the angelic in the perfect amalgam of GodâÈçs most cherished creations, were supposed to keep the world from harm. They had fought hard against those who had considered them a blight in the eyes of God, and had won the honor of being the earthâÈçs protectors against the unnatural.

But then a heavenly threat had arisen. The Abomination of Desolation, an angel of destruction, had come to the world of man. HeâÈçd believed the earth was ripe with evil, and had attempted to destroy the planet.

The Nephilim had fought valiantly. Many had sacrificed their lives for what was only a partial victory. They had prevented the Abomination from ending the world, but they had not been able to stop it from severing the worldâÈçs ties to God and Heaven.

And now humanity was suffering. Creatures that had hidden in shadow began to emerge to claim their stake in a world that seemed to have been abandoned by the Lord.

The first thing AaronâÈçs eyes locked upon in the room was Vilma, and he was reminded of how beautiful his girlfriend was, and how much he loved her.

As if sensing his stare, Vilma turned to look at him. Behind her, Kraus, their resident healer, worked to clean up the newest injuries of the other two Nephilim whoâÈçd been out on their own missions. Melissa seemed to have injured her hand. It was bandaged, and she flexed and released it, testing her range of motion, as Kraus tended to a nasty-looking gash on CameronâÈçs cheek.

âÈêAre they all right?âÈë Aaron asked Vilma as she came toward him.

Hearing his voice, Gabriel, who had been sleeping in a patch of sunshine, jumped to his feet with a loud bark and ran to his master.

âÈêTheyâÈçre fine, but I should be asking you the same question,âÈë Vilma said, eyeing him.

Aaron looked down at himself. His clothes were caked with blood and the filth of violent death.

âÈêYou stink,âÈë Gabriel said, then sneezed violently.

âÈêSorry.âÈë Aaron shrugged.

Earlier he had seen a report on CNN that monsters had taken up residence under the Golden Gate Bridge, preventing any travel between San Francisco and Marin County. Local law enforcement, and even the National Guard, had been called in to deal with these creatures identified as a species of Asian troll called OniâÈ'but the loss of life had been great.

PeopleâÈö civiliansâÈö were not meant to deal with creatures such as these, which was why he had stepped in. Normally Aaron wouldnâÈçt have gone alone, but there were other threats, other beasts emerging around the world, so theyâÈçd split up.

So many monsters out there now, and so few Nephilim.

âÈêItâÈçs not my blood,âÈë Aaron replied. He flexed the muscles in his back, drawing his black wings beneath his flesh. He suddenly felt spasms of pain across his body, and stumbled slightly, dropping to one knee on the floor. âÈêWell, not all of it anyway.âÈë

Vilma was by his side in an instant.

âÈêThink the fight might have taken a little bit more out of me than I thought,âÈë Aaron said.

HeâÈçd flown to the Golden Gate and attacked before the little bit of sunlight had gone. Since the Abomination had cut off the world from heaven, the daylight hours were becoming shorter, the darkness falling earlier and earlier all around the world. Having confronted creatures like the Oni before, he knew that they disliked the daylight and would likely remain beneath the bridge while the sun was shining.

The trolls had been like sitting ducks, huddled together in a filthy group of fur and fang. Aaron remembered a time, not too long ago, when launching an attack on an unsuspecting enemy would have bothered him, would have made him think that he was somehow being unfair.

But that was before heâÈçd started to bury his friends, and seen these nightmarish monsters feed upon the remains of the dead.

âÈêUnmercifulâÈë would probably be the best word to define him these days, and he found that very sad.

âÈêAre you all right, Aaron?âÈë Gabriel asked, coming in very close to sniff his face.

âÈêIâÈçm fine, boy.âÈë Aaron reached out to pet his dogâÈçs head. âÈêJust a little tired.âÈë

âÈêItâÈçs a wonder that youâÈçre still able to function at all,âÈë Vilma said, getting beneath one of his arms and helping Aaron to stand. âÈêHow much sleep have you had in the last few days? Be honest with me.âÈë

Vilma steered him over to where Kraus was finishing up with Cameron.

âÈêNot much,âÈë he answered, wincing in pain as he sat in one of the old wooden chairs that had been left behind when the school had been abandoned.

Vilma stepped back, and Kraus went to work.

âÈêRemove your shirt,âÈë he told Aaron in a no-nonsense tone.

Aaron tried, but he just couldnâÈçt seem to get the shirt up over his head.

âÈêFor HeavenâÈçs sake,âÈë Vilma said, rushing over to help him pull the bloody T-shirt from his body.

âÈêNo amount of washing is going to ever get this clean again,âÈë she said, tossing the filthy garment to the floor.

âÈêHey,âÈë Aaron said without much conviction. âÈêThatâÈçs one of my best shirts.âÈë

Gabriel sniffed at the filthy pile of cloth, and the hackles on his golden back rose like quills.

âÈêTrolls,âÈë the Labrador said in the language of his breed. âÈêI donâÈçt like trolls at all.âÈë

âÈêThe Oni arenâÈçt very likeable,âÈë Aaron confirmed as Kraus worked, cleaning up various bites and scratches.

Considering the level of combat heâÈçd encountered, Aaron was surprised that he hadnâÈçt sustained more damage. HeâÈçd gone right at the Oni nest beneath the bridge, attacking with a sword of heavenly fire. The Oni hadnâÈçt cared for that in the least. Many had risked the pain of daylight to crawl from their hiding places and confront him.

He remembered the stink of their fur as theyâÈçd burned with the touch of his sword and the rays of the sun, and felt himself grow nauseous. The air had become saturated with the smell as heâÈçd fought wave after wave of the snarling things. Beneath the suspension bridge Aaron had found the remains of people who had tried to cross, stored for later consumption in thick weblike cocoons created with Oni saliva. It was a horrible sight, and one that he doubted he would ever forget.

HeâÈçd used that memory, that horrible, disturbing memory, as heâÈçd fought the trolls that had been responsible for such heinous acts against other living creatures, killing one after another until they were all dead.

Aaron leaned back against the chair now. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and he felt his head begin to nod, only to snap back up just as sleep was about to claim him.

âÈêIs he all right, Kraus?âÈë Vilma asked the healer as she reached out to steady Aaron.

âÈêUnless there are internal injuries that IâÈçm unaware of, he should be fine.âÈë

âÈêHear that? IâÈçm fine,âÈë Aaron said, his eyes fluttering as he tried to stay awake. He glanced over to see Melissa and Cameron watching him, concern in their eyes.

âÈêAre you two okay?âÈë he asked them.

âÈêFine,âÈë Melissa said, holding up her bandaged hand. âÈêI can feel it healing already.âÈë

âÈêIâÈçm okay too,âÈë Cameron said, touching the bandage on his cheek. âÈêBesides, girls love scars; they add character.âÈë He laughed as Melissa punched him.

Aaron felt a pressure under his arm and looked up as Vilma pulled him up from the chair and began to lead him from the room.

âÈêWhere are we going?âÈë he asked, trying to halt his progress.

âÈêYou need a shower, and some sleep,âÈë Vilma replied.

On the big-screen television behind him he heard the report of a city in Ukraine being besieged by what looked to be giant bats. He planted his feet to hear the rest of the news coverage.

âÈêNo,âÈë Vilma said firmly, pulling him around to face her.

âÈêMelissa and Cameron are hurt. They arenâÈçt in any condition to go. IâÈ'âÈë he started to explain.

âÈêTheyâÈçre not going anywhere either,âÈë she interrupted, loud enough so they all could hear. âÈêWeâÈçre running ourselves ragged, and itâÈçs not going to do anybody any good at all if weâÈçre making mistakes. Mistakes could get us killed.âÈë

Gabriel stood beside her, his tail tucked and his head bowed in submission. âÈêSheâÈçs right, Aaron.âÈë

Aaron was going to argue, but deep down he knew that they were right.

âÈêWe all need to restâÈ'to heal.âÈë Vilma looked around the room again, certain to make eye contact with Cameron and Melissa.

âÈêOkay,âÈë Aaron said, giving in. âÈêWeâÈçll rest.âÈë Really, he was too damn tired to fight anyway. âÈêTwo hours. Then you wake me up. Deal?âÈë

Vilma moved in close to him again, ushering him from the room.

âÈêShower first. You stink like death,âÈë she said. âÈêThen two hours of uninterrupted sleep.âÈë

âÈêYou drive a hard bargain, Ms. Santiago.âÈë Aaron surrendered as the reports of even more horrors droned from the television in the other room.

Two hours. And then back to work.

* * *

Vilma waited until Aaron was finished with his shower, and then escorted him to bed.

HeâÈçd done exactly what sheâÈçd thought he would, telling her that he was feeling much better and much more awake, and that he could take care of those bats and be back for a rest in no time.

Vilma didnâÈçt even feel it necessary to respond. She and Gabriel escorted Aaron, wrapped in a towel, from the shower room to the bedroom they shared.

âÈêSleep,âÈë she commanded, pointing to the mattress.

He looked like he was about to argue, and then thought better of it. Smart boy.

Aaron stumbled across the room like the Corpse Riders theyâÈçd encountered not long ago. At least he now smelled better.

He fell onto the mattress, and barely had the sheet and comforter over him before he was asleep.

âÈêDo you think heâÈçll stay there if we leave?âÈë Gabriel asked Vilma.

âÈêYou could stand guard if you want, but I think heâÈçs down for the count.âÈë

âÈêAnd how about you?âÈë the dog asked her.

âÈêWhat about me?âÈë she questioned, heading back to the TV room, where theyâÈçd left the others. She wanted to be sure that Melissa and Cameron were listening to her orders.

âÈêYouâÈçve taken on more responsibility as second in command, and you havenâÈçt been sleeping all that much either,âÈë Gabriel reminded her.

âÈêI donâÈçt need that much sleep,âÈë she lied. âÈêNever have. I was always the early riser in my family.âÈë

Which wasnâÈçt a lie, but it had had more to do with her studies in school. Those days seemed so very long ago now. She couldnâÈçt remember the last time sheâÈçd even looked at a book.

âÈêYou look tired,âÈë Gabriel said, looking up at her as they walked.

Vilma stopped, and squatted down to his level.

âÈêIâÈçm fine.âÈë She scratched him behind one of his golden yellow ears. âÈêItâÈçs just that things are a little intense around here.âÈë

âÈêI worry about you,âÈë Gabriel said, and licked her hand. âÈêI worry about all of you.âÈë

She smiled, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head.

âÈêGood ole Gabriel,âÈë she said. âÈêItâÈçs nice to know that somebody is looking out for us.âÈë

She stood then, knees cracking as she did.

âÈêThat didnâÈçt sound good,âÈë Gabriel said.

âÈêIt felt even worse.âÈë Vilma laughed. âÈêMust be getting old.âÈë

There was truth to what she said. Over the last few months she felt like sheâÈçd aged physically, and mentally.

She was sure that she wasnâÈçt supposed to feel this way at nineteen, but then again, most nineteen-year-olds werenâÈçt out killing beasts that seemed like theyâÈçd crawled out of Stephen KingâÈçs worst nightmare.

âÈêOr maybe youâÈçre just not taking care of yourself the way you should,âÈë the dog suggested as they walked down the hallway again. âÈêIâÈçm just saying.âÈë

âÈêIâÈçm not going to deny that thereâÈçs some truth to what youâÈçre saying. Which is why I put Aaron to bed, and told the others toâÈöâÈë Vilma trailed off as they entered the TV room and saw MelissaâÈçs wings emerge from her back. CameronâÈçs wings were out too, and he was about to cloak his body with them to disappear, off to who knows where.

âÈêWhat the hell do you think youâÈçre doing?âÈë Vilma asked, striding into the room.

Kraus stood silently nearby, putting away his creams and salves.

âÈêWeâÈçve had a breather,âÈë Cameron said. âÈêThereâÈçs something going on at the Great Wall of China, and an ocean liner is under attack off the coast of Africa. We thought weâÈçd go and check things out beforeâÈ'âÈë

âÈêNo,âÈë Vilma said.

Cameron gave her a quizzical smile. âÈêWhat do you mean âÈænoâÈç?âÈë

âÈêWhat part of âÈæeveryone needs a restâÈç didnâÈçt you understand?âÈë she asked sternly.

âÈêI got it, but I thought you were just saying that to get Aaron to lie down for a while,âÈë Cameron explained. âÈêWeâÈçre fine,âÈë he said, looking at Melissa, who nodded in agreement. âÈêWe can handle a few more situations before we crash.âÈë

âÈêAnd I said no,âÈë Vilma said with even more forcefulness.

Anger suddenly showed upon CameronâÈçs face. âÈêWe canâÈçt just do nothing,âÈë the younger Nephilim said. âÈêThere are people dying all over the world in ways too horrible to even think about,âÈë he said, gesturing to the television screen that was reporting on some other bizarre and potentially fatal incident.

âÈêWe can do nothing,âÈë she said, snatching up the remote from one of the chairs and turning off the broadcast. âÈêWe have to do nothing,âÈë she stressed. âÈêFor a little while. Just until weâÈçve recharged.âÈë

âÈêBut people are dying,âÈë Melissa argued.

âÈêDonâÈçt you think I know that?âÈë Vilma snapped. âÈêBut I also know that weâÈçve been going nonstop, traveling all over the world, dealing with one emerging threat after another, saving lives, but weâÈçre killing ourselves.âÈë

Cameron was about to argue, but Vilma silenced him with a stare.

âÈêAs far as we know weâÈçre the only ones of our kind capable of dealing with these threats. And the last time I checked, there werenâÈçt all that many of us left.âÈë

âÈêBut we have to do something,âÈë Cameron insisted.

âÈêAnd we are,âÈë Vilma answered him. âÈêBy resting we keep ourselves fresh and on the ball. WeâÈçll be less likely to make mistakesâÈ'and more likely to survive our battles.âÈë

Vilma paused, the realization of what she was about to say taking quite a bit from her.

âÈêWe canâÈçt save everybody,âÈë she said quietly. âÈêAnd weâÈçre going to be able to help even fewer people if we go out there running on fumes.âÈë

She looked over at Kraus, who was trying to slip out of the room unnoticed.

âÈêBack me up, Kraus?âÈë she asked.

The healer of angels stopped, and slowly turned. âÈêYouâÈçre completely right, Miss Santiago,âÈë he said. âÈêOneâÈçs level of performance diminishes greatly while fighting the effects of mental and physical fatigue.âÈë

Vilma looked back to Cameron and Melissa. âÈêSo thatâÈçs just how itâÈçs going to be.âÈë

âÈêHow long?âÈë Cameron asked, his shoulders slumping, his wings sliding into his back.

âÈêGo back to your rooms,âÈë Vilma said. âÈêRestâÈö nap, do whatever you need to do to recharge your batteries. WeâÈçll talk again in a couple âÈça hours.âÈë

She could see that the Nephilim werenâÈçt happy, turning away in a huff to retreat to their rooms.

âÈêDonâÈçt test me on this, guys,âÈë she warned, just in case they were thinking of going off against her wishes. âÈêYou wouldnâÈçt care for the repercussions.âÈë

The threat sounded good, even though she had no idea what the punishment would be. Maybe sheâÈçd make them hang out with Verchiel for an afternoonâÈ'and she wouldnâÈçt wish that on a goblin or rabid grackleflint.

Verchiel, she thought as she watched the two Nephilim leave the television room. He was the former leader of the Powers, the angelic host whose sole purpose had been to hunt down and slaughter all Nephilim. And he lived with the Nephilim now. After supposedly dying in battle, the murderous angel had been sent back to earth, for what purpose, nobody could really decipher.

One of the theories was that heâÈçd been sent to make amends for the sins that he had committed as leader of the Powers. And what better way to make amends than by helping the Nephilim keep the world from plunging into total darkness?

She hadnâÈçt seen Verchiel in a few days and wondered if she should pay the nasty angel a visit. Maybe he would be able to impart some heavenly wisdom about what they couldâÈ'or shouldâÈ'be doing in order to continue with their mission.

Vilma truly didnâÈçt expect much from Verchiel, but at this point she was willing to try just about anything that might help them.

Even talking with an angel who had tried to kill her.

* * *

The visions were killing him.

Dustin âÈêDustyâÈë Handy lay on the mattress in the middle of the room the Nephilim had given him, and shook as if he were in the grip of a soaring fever.

His eyes were tightly closed, but he could see the images of all that was happening out there in the worldâÈ'nightmares made reality.

The visions came at him in waves. It was as if every single television channel were being beamed onto one screen in his mind, all at once, and at the highest volume. HeâÈçd tried to fight the visions, to get them under control, but he just didnâÈçt think he was strong enough. And when they were at their worst, he knew that to be true.

Dying was starting to look better and better.

Sometimes Dusty would take a memory and try to focus on that, to drown out all the other images that cascaded through his mind. He would often think about the blind old man who had given him the responsibility of a special horn.

The responsibility of the Instrument.

The Instrument had belonged to the angel Gabriel, and it was to be given only to one strong enough to control its power. The horn was to be blown only when all hope was lost and darkness was about to claim victory, when it was time for the world to die.

Dusty had tried to fight the urgings of the Instrument that had wanted him to play it, to call down an angel of destruction to end the worldâÈçs pain, and heâÈçd been doing really well untilâÈö

Until he wasnâÈçt. Overwhelmed, and unable to resist the Instrument any longer, heâÈçd blown into it, then in the shape of a harmonica, sending the planet that much closer to extinction.

The Instrument had called down the monstrous angelâÈ'the Abomination of DesolationâÈ'and the Nephilim had done battle with the horrible result that Dusty had been responsible for summoning.

The Nephilim had managed to stop the Abomination from performing its sole duty, but not before it had transformed the Instrument into the mother of all swords and plunged it into the earth, severing the worldâÈçs connection with Heaven.

The enormous sword was still there outside the NephilimâÈçs haven, protruding from the ground like an antenna, broadcasting these visions inside DustyâÈçs skull.

Driving him to the brink of madness.

When he wasnâÈçt thinking about how the world had become so screwed up, Dusty contemplated ending it all. But how he would kill himself was the question.

He wondered if Kraus had anything stronger than foul-smelling salves in that bag of his, something that could put him out of his misery quickly and painlessly.

But suicide would have to wait, as there came a knocking at DustyâÈçs door. Before he could answer, the person on the other side opened the door.

âÈêRise and shine, handsome,âÈë Lorelei said as she limped into his room, the rubber tip at the end of her cane thumping on the wooden floor.

Dusty had just enough strength to lift his head. Since all the business with the Instrument and the visions, heâÈçd been gradually losing his eyesight. Now he could only see blurred shapes and outlines. Soon he would have just the visions inside his head.

âÈêIs it bad?âÈë she asked.

Dusty mustâÈçve looked as nasty as he felt. âÈêYeah,âÈë he managed, head falling back onto the pillow.

âÈêWell, youâÈçre not doing yourself, or anybody else, any good lying here in the dark. Get your ass up, and weâÈçll see if we can mix up something in the science lab to help you out.âÈë

Just the idea of standing was enough to send DustyâÈçs body into fitful spasms, the visions intensifying to the point where he wanted to scream, but he was too weak to do so.

âÈêPlease,âÈë Dusty managed, wrapping his hands around his head to keep it from exploding. âÈêI want to die.âÈë

He heard Lorelei grunt at this, and then felt her cane strike him hard in the groin. Dusty let out another painful cry, distracted suddenly from the torturous images inside his head.

âÈêGet up,âÈë she commanded. âÈêYou only get to die when youâÈçve outlived your usefulness,âÈë Lorelei said cruelly. âÈêAnd I see a whole lot of potential in you and that horror show going on inside your skull.âÈë

* * *

It was a spell that required strength Lorelei really could not spare, but she knew she had no choice. If she didnâÈçt do something to help Dusty, he wasnâÈçt going to be able to survive, and she needed him. The tiny mouse perched on her shoulder squeaked a warning into her ear, as if sensing what she was about to do.

âÈêI know, I know,âÈë she muttered in response to the tiny rodent, who had been named Milton by his former ownerâÈ'Lucifer Morningstar. Leaning heavily upon her cane, she knelt her magick-ravaged body on the floor with a minimum of discomfort. It was the getting up that would be a bitch.

âÈêBut there really isnâÈçt much of a choice.âÈë

She knew the spell well, having used it quite often over the last few weeks to give the Nephilim that extra power in order to accomplish their missions. Lorelei liked to think of it as the magickal equivalent of a Red Bull, only it was her supernaturally charged life force that gave her recipients the extra kick.

The spell she was going to use on Dusty was slightly different. It would boost his ability to focus, rather than his ability to wave a flaming sword around for a few extra hours.

She muttered the ancient Archon words beneath her breath, and felt herself grow weaker almost immediately. This side effect had heightened since the business with the Abomination of Desolation. Wielding the Archon spells now stole her life energy far faster than her body could replenish it.

But itâÈçs all for a good cause, she thought, bringing her tingling fingertips toward DustyâÈçs sweaty face. The young man thrashed his head from side to side, as if in the grip of delirium.

âÈêHold still,âÈë she commanded as she placed her fingers upon his dampened brow, and let the power of the spell flow into him.

Dusty let out a cry, his body going rigid beneath the sheet as she momentarily entered his mind, strengthening his ability to hold at bay all that plagued him. At the same time she glimpsed a bit of what he was experiencing.

SheâÈçd helped Dusty before, each time understanding more about his strange gift related to having care of the Instrument. It was wild inside his head, and she honestly hadnâÈçt a clue how he had lasted this long, which was probably why heâÈçd been chosen to receive this gift, this burden.

DustyâÈçs mind was strong.

The potential she saw inside his brain was truly exciting. In Dusty, Lorelei hoped theyâÈçd found a way to track and hunt down the nightmarish threats that plagued the world. She also hoped he could eventually show them how to restore the world to some state of normalcy.

And perhaps even locate the missing Lucifer Morningstar in the process. Finding Lucifer was a priority. HeâÈçd been missing for close to a month, and no matter what sort of spell Lorelei attempted, she couldnâÈçt find a trace of him anywhere. It was as if Lucifer had vanished, or even worse, been eradicated. She didnâÈçt want to believe either of those options, so she kept on searching, even though each new spell shortened her life by minutes, hours, and sometimes even days.

She removed her fingertips from DustyâÈçs brow, breaking their connection. She immediately felt dizzy. The spell had most definitely taken its toll. It took all the strength she had to rise to her feet again and make her way to lean against the wall.

âÈêHowâÈçs that?âÈë she asked.

Dusty was sitting up now, his feverish look temporarily gone.

âÈêItâÈçs good,âÈë he said, running a hand through his longish brown hair. His eyes seemed to focus on her then, taking her in. âÈêBut what about you?âÈë

Lorelei pushed off from the wall, not wanting to show any weakness. Milton the mouse clung to her neck, his tiny whiskers tickling her ear as he told her in his simple mouse language that she should rest. But Lorelei wasnâÈçt listening.

âÈêDonâÈçt you worry about me,âÈë she instructed. âÈêLetâÈçs worry about getting you out of that bed and back to the lab with me.âÈë

Dusty crawled out from beneath the sheet, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. Lorelei turned around, giving him a little bit of privacy so that he could get dressed.

âÈêHow much longer can you keep this up?âÈë Dusty asked. She could hear the jangle of his belt as he pulled on his pants.

âÈêWhat? You mean helping you out?âÈë

âÈêAll of it,âÈë Dusty said. Lorelei turned to face him as Dusty buttoned his shirt. âÈêHelping me, finding new threats to the world, looking for Lucifer, giving up a part of your life energy so thatâÈ'âÈë

âÈêI said not to worry,âÈë Lorelei said. âÈêI signed up for this, and IâÈçm in it for the long haul.âÈë

But she could sense that life would soon be coming to an end for her, and she didnâÈçt have the heart to tell Dusty that all of this responsibility would soon belong to him.

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Citations

• School Library Journal, 10/01/2012, Page 121