Resurrection

Chapter Twenty-One

Daartan arrived in a blustering cacophony of light and sound, his knights behind him. A ragged and beaten Katon dangled over his white-clad shoulder. Kicking up a swirl of dust, the revenants settled onto the tarmac, their eyes whirling as the chill from their presence settled in like an early winter.

The White Knight smiled as he came to rest a short distance from Reven, the necromancer surrounded by his army of corpses. After a quick glance about, no doubt spotting the body of Longinus set amidst the symbols, Daartan tossed Katon to the side like unwanted trash.

On the ground, the vampire lay still, showing no signs of life. If it weren’t for my senses picking up the subtle mystical pulse of his presence, I wouldn’t have known he was alive.

They’d given him no opportunity to heal, apparently beating him-torturing him-to keep him compliant. His flesh remained torn in bloody strips, his face so swollen as to be unrecognizable. Worse even, his eye still hung loose from its socket, the wound now congealed with blood and thick pus. It had to be agonizing.

My face burned with the need for revenge, my knuckles popping against the grip of my gun. Only the cold, hard realization I stood no chance of taking out Daartan, kept me from going after him. What would my sacrifice be worth if Katon died right after? Nothing.

Besides, there were plenty of unknowns still up in the air. I might not be able to go toe-to-toe with Daartan, but when the opportunity presented itself, and it would, I’d put one in the back of his head.

Seeing him confront Reven gave me hope I might not have to wait too long for such an opportunity. Things heating up, I swung by and snatched up Poe’s gun, then circled off to find a more tactical staging point. As I settled in, I heard the Knight’s voice ring out.

“So necromancer, you dare to challenge God’s will?” Tendrils of frosty white spewed from Daartan’s mouth with every word.

Reven stood tall behind his rotting wall of zombies. “Your God has abandoned you.” He apparently had a brass pair on him. They clanged out, loud and clear. “I challenge no one’s will but yours, misguided as it is.”

“Blasphemy!” Daartan floated forward a few feet, the ambient temperature dropping several degrees with his displeasure. He drew Katon’s sword. “You will rue your black-tongued heresy when I rip your Godless soul apart.”

To my surprise, Reven smiled wide, his yellow eyes meeting Daartan’s withering stare with confidence. “Perhaps, ghost, but I shall die comforted by the knowledge you and your kind will have met the same fate.”

With that, the necromancer muttered something obscure and raised his hands to the sky, the rumble of thunder accompanying the movement.

From beneath the knights, the tarmac split and burst open with a roar. Chunks of asphalt were flung into the air as a ravening throng of ghouls exploded from beneath it, their grasping claws tearing at the surprised revenants. Their fevered growls filled the night with a feral intensity that set my skin crawling with a mix of fear and excitement.

As Reven drew back toward Longinus, his wall of undead at his side, the rest of his zombies joined the fray as well. They hurled themselves at the knights between the scads of ghouls that swarmed over them like ants on spilled ice cream. It was an amazing sight. Though I was just as much in danger of getting caught up in the maelstrom, it was pretty damn satisfying to see Daartan and his revenants forced on the defensive, even if it was only temporary.

While the trap was well sprung, Reven had to know his forces couldn’t win. The revenants were far too powerful to be beaten by mere ghouls and zombies, regardless of their numbers. It was only a matter of time until the knights won out. Glorious as it was then, there had to be more to the plan than throwing away their minions. The fact that Karra was once more somewhere out of sight led me to believe there was.

Then just as that thought rattled through my skull, I heard another rumble split the sky, this time from behind me. Spinning, my guns out in front, my balls scurried into my ass as Lilith joined the field. A legion of gaunts spilled across the tarmac before her.

While I’d expected her to show up ready to throw down, I hadn’t expected her to bring an army. Now there I was, caught between the chaotic convergence of Lilith, Daartan, and Reven’s forces. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, let me tell you.

I cast a quick glance at Daartan, his rage seeping off his face in wispy white spurts of glowing light. If he’d noticed Lilith’s arrival, he didn’t show it. He slashed through the undead like a whirlwind, Katon’s sword leaving behind a trail of sparkling power and severed limbs. For every one Daartan felled, two more took its place, pressing the knights back under a wave of fearless, insistent flesh. In the rush of battle, they left Katon behind, the fight moving away from where he lay.

As the gaunts stormed through the high grass to join the fray, I realized Veronica and Poe lay in their path. Cursing, I stuffed my guns into my waistband and raced back to them, putting myself exactly where I didn’t want to be; right in the middle of it all, but I couldn’t leave them to be trampled. My heart pounding louder than the approaching legions, I gathered them up, all niceness and consideration aside, and dragged them roughshod out of the way. We made it to safe ground just as the leading edge blew past.

Behind them, Lilith bellowed orders, sending her troops out scattershot, some after Reven, the rest at Daartan. A handful of enslaved minions stayed at her side as she remained behind.

Grateful we’d made it to safety in time, I let out a wheezing sigh of relief. It was premature.

As Lilith’s army took the field with a roar, she came to stand before me, a sneer mangling her gorgeous lips. I stepped forward, guns drawn, placing myself between her and Veronica. Her minions took up defensive positions in front of their master, grumbling threats my direction, but they stayed put.

“You are an infuriating little man, Triggaltheron.”

“I get that a lot.”

She shook her head, her sneer transforming into a toothy smile. “I guess I can’t complain too much though. Not only have you led me to Longinus, you’ve managed get my get my snot-nosed daughter caught up in all the drama.” She gestured to Veronica, chuckling, the malice in her eyes obvious. “Lucifer was right, you are occasionally useful.”

I knew she was just trying to rattle my cage, but it still hurt deep down to think my uncle might have actually said that. Not willing to let her get to me, I fired back.

“Funny thing, he said the same thing about you.” The smile dropped from her face. “Although, I do remember him saying how much better your sister was in bed.”

Lilith let loose a growl like I’d never heard, its rage making every hair on my body stand at attention. “Kill him!” She shoved the nearest gaunt, knocking him to the ground while the rest tripped over themselves to get to me.

Mission accomplished.

Certain the gaunts would follow me, I left Poe and Veronica where they lay and bounded off into the grass. Driven by Lilith’s overwhelming desire to see me dead, they did just that, nipping at my heels like angry Chihuahuas.

Torn between punishing me and reclaiming Longinus, it seemed Lilith’s interest in the Anti-Christ won out. Her eye on the prize, she turned her back and headed after Reven, leaving her goons to handle me.

Figuring now was as good a time as any, I played one of the last cards I still had control over. “You here, Michael?”

The telepathic connection opened in an instant. “I’m here.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that Veronica had done exactly as I’d asked of her. “Katon is free of the revenants and I could use a little help.”

Michael didn’t bother to answer, wasting no time delivering the message.

Nearby, where Chatterbox lay, a flash of crimson light exploded in the deep grasses. As it faded, a shadow appeared in its place. Storming across the intervening distance between us, not bothering to conceal his presence was Rahim.

The gaunts chasing me stopped in their tracks at seeing the wizard’s sudden appearance. Glad of the distraction, I stopped running, spun around, and shot the one closest to me. It fell dead, a smoking crater in its forehead, a raging volcano of blood of gunk spewing from the back of its skull. The four behind it went up in a blaze of not-so-much-glory as Rahim seared them into piles of willowy ash before the one I’d shot even hit the ground.

His dark gaze settled on mine. He wasted no time on unnecessary words. “Where?”

I pointed, understanding that Katon came first.

With a glimmer of thanks in his eyes, Rahim raced to the enforcer’s side. Heedless of his own safety and well-being, Katon laying just yards from the frenzied battle, he heaved the enforcer up into his arms. Within seconds, the pair disappeared.

Assured that Katon was now out of harm’s way and Daartan had his hands full, for the moment at least, I went after Lilith. Her gaunts had dealt a crippling blow to Reven’s defending zombies and now the two stood face to face, just a short distance from where Longinus lay. They were arguing, their voices pitched and angry. Though I couldn’t understand what was being said through the wall of noise that pounded against my ears, their wild gestures told me it was beyond heated. Things were gonna get bad soon.

While their attention was on each other, both having forgotten about me, I maneuvered around behind them. Surrounded as they were by their battling minions, there was no way I could shoot either of them before they knew I was there. Cursing under my breath, I crept low in the grass, doing my best to avoid being seen. I’d made it to within thirty feet before my luck gave out.

A gaunt that’d just finished tearing a zombie to pieces, looked up from its kill and spotted me as I tried to eke past. Its feral eyes narrowed and a rumbling growl erupted from its throat. It barreled after me, intent on taking me down. I would have loved to shoot it, but surprise was the only advantage I had at that point. Despite the noise level, there’d be no mistaking a gunshot in a fistfight, this close behind them.

That didn’t stop me from using my gun. After all the practice I’d gotten in with Marcus, I felt I was pretty adept at delivering a satisfactory pistol-whipping. Turns out, I was right.

The gaunt closed and I backhanded it like it owed me money. The grip slammed into its face with a crunch, its orbital bone snapping under the pressure. Its momentum redirected by the blow, it stumbled past and crashed to the ground. It stared up at me, one eye doing a twitching dance, swirling unfocused in its socket. The other got to see the gun coming back for seconds. After that, it saw nothing at all.

The crumpled gaunt at my feet, I spun around to reorient myself just in time to see Lilith standing over Reven. She straddled him, his wadded cloak clutched in one of her hands, the other held back, ready to strike. He screamed at her, his voice sharp and piercing, but without a hint of fear. I still couldn’t make out what he shouted, but it sounded pretty damn colorful.

The necromancer’s screams adding to the covering sounds of fighting, I saw the opportunity to get behind Lilith and took it, putting hoof to tarmac. As I got closer, her arm swept down at Reven, her sharpened nails extended. His shrieking curses were cut short, replaced by a wet gagging sound as her makeshift claws tore into his neck. An arc of crimson followed in the wake of her arm, the red, dripping cords of his throat in her hand. Laughing like a drunken hyena, she cast aside Reven’s twitching form, leaving him to die as she made her way to Longinus. Somewhere deep inside my head, a voice cheered his demise, plying me with hope that with his death, the threat of the Anti-Christ’s return had been ended.

Sadly, I knew better. Nothing was ever that simple in my life. So, determined to see it through to the end, I raced off after Lilith.

I growled aloud as I realized I wouldn’t catch her before she made it to Longinus’s body, having to dodge yet another gaunt that stumbled into my path. As I batted it aside, I cast a glance at Daartan to see where he was.

Though still in the thick of it, he and his revenants were turning the tide. It wouldn’t be long before they overcame the swarming minions, aided in part by Reven’s death; the zombies and ghouls already slowing as the necromancer gasped to draw in a last breath, his lungs filling with his own, bitter blood.

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.

I loosed a resigned sigh as Daartan bore down on me, his eagerness spewing out in frigid huffs of breath. I felt like Don Quixote, tilting at a bullet train, but the least I could do was go out with my boots on. No one but the coroner needed to know they were filled to the ankles with shit.

Casting a quick glance at Karra, it was clear I couldn’t expect any help from her. A stumbling font of red, she had dragged herself to her father’s body and lay there, draped over him in a sobbing heap. She was out of the fight.

Squinting at the bright light emanating from Daartan, and wrestling with the urge to bolt, I stood my ground and got ready to meet the revenant’s challenge with hot, supernatural, blood-infused lead. I still had my ace up my sleeve, the power given to me by Baalth, but it wouldn’t do me any good if I pulled it out too soon. It’d be a case of premature assimilation.

Caught up in the ecstasy of a massive soul transfer, I might not feel the pain being dealt to me, my injuries healing as they were doled out, but I’d be helpless, a devilish punching bag. The magic would be taxed to its fullest as soon as the transfer wore off.

Even with the increase, it’d only delay the inevitable, Daartan still too much a stud for me to take out alone. My only chance was to stay mobile and keep the Knight occupied and away from Karra and her father, all the while, hoping for a miracle.

But you know what they say: wish in one hand, shit in the other. Which one fills up faster? Let’s just say there’s gonna be a shortage of wishes.

That’s when the sodden gray lump inside my head sparked into a semblance of functionality. I didn’t need to go after Daartan to hurt him.

I waited until he was right on top of me, his sword whipping through the air toward my head, before ducking out under his arm. The blade whooshed by, only millimeters from my skull, but it gave me the precious seconds I needed as his momentum carried him past.

Though I had Daartan’s back to me, undefended and vulnerable, it wasn’t him I wanted. Smiling from ear to ear, I raised my guns and let lead fly.

The unsuspecting revenants, piled together nice and snuggly close, broke out in discordant shrieks as my bullets tore into them, their chant disrupted. Just as I thought, their spell having transferred the majority of their powers to Daartan, their reaction to being shot was far from the confident invulnerability shown by their leader.

Obsidian holes, like festering mold, appeared wherever my bullets struck. Spider-web like striations spread out with lightning quickness, a plague upon their ethereal flesh. Several dropped under the first barrage, their already dim lights blinking out. Their corporeal forms turned to wispy dust and dispersed into nothingness, as though they never existed. The rest stumbled about, screeching and grasping at their blackened wounds as they stared at me in disbelief. My second volley was probably just as devastating, though I didn’t get the chance to watch its effects.

As the barest hint of a soul transfer washed over me, the revenants power so diminished as to be negligible, I heard Daartan roar behind me. Before I could determine the best direction to go to avoid him, Katon’s sword bit into the meat of my side.

I’d like to say I took it like a man, gritting my teeth and hopping back up to continue the fight, but I’d be lying.

I screamed like a pig being slaughtered as the blade sunk in, shrill and uncomfortable to hear. It was even worse when he yanked the sword out, my shriek trailing away into a wet gurgle as my vocal cords ruptured.

My eyes went white with pain, sightless, my legs disappearing from beneath me. I went down on my back in a shuddering heap, warm splashes of blood striking my face from the morbid geyser at my side. Daartan hovered over me, his presence like a brick. Though I couldn’t see him, I knew there was death in his eyes.

“You shall pay for your transgressions.” His words battered my face. “I intended to claim Longinus’s body as my own, but now, I must settle for his spirit.”

Through the muddle of pain, my mind aah’ed, understanding his motivation at last. It wasn’t much of a consolation, but at least I’d help screw the revenant before I went out. Hardly headstone worthy, but it’d have to do.

“You and the girl-child will never see the resurrection of your unholy lord. I will rend his spirit from this world with his own blade, ending forever the line Anti-Christs. When his essence has become mine, I will send his daughter to join him as you watch, helpless to save her.” He held Katon’s sword out. “Then when I’m done with them, I will peel the flesh from your bones and carve you apart, piece by bloody piece. Your death will last an eternity.”

I thought his speech would too.

Not content just to threaten, he slammed his sword through my shoulder to the hilt. Its blade pierced my back and sunk deep into the tarmac below, pinning me. It felt like ice sliding through, freezing cold and burning at the same time. Compared to the wound in my side, its clean entry was little more than a tickle, my mind already shutting down its sensory receptors. It’d had too much.

Daartan wrapped his frigid hand around my neck and pulled me up against the painful resistance of the blade, leaning in face-to-face. I could feel the frost of his breath, stinging my cheeks. Though still a little hazy, my eyes focused and met his, their yellow swirling so fast as to make me dizzy.

“Your heroics have availed you naught. The end has come. Soon your suffering will begin.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

Daartan’s eyes flew wide as the deep tones of Barry White rang out behind him. It was all he had time to do before all hell broke loose.

The searing, red blast of Rahim’s fury cast a crimson glow over everything, its vicious energy slamming into Daartan. The White Knight screamed as he was blown forward, his ghostly flesh alive with magical fire. He came down with a crash, half a football field away, the grass around him going up in flames.

Rahim marched past me, not so much as sparing a glance. He was on a mission. His only objective: hurt Daartan.

Through the murky fog of my thoughts, I knew it wouldn’t work out that way. Even without Daartan’s extra boost of power from his followers, Rahim was playing out of his league. He’d get some good shots in, no doubt about that, but it wouldn’t be enough. He might, however, keep him occupied long enough for the new me to join in.

Unsure exactly as to how I was supposed to take possession of Baalth’s gift, I hoped I could pull it off in time. Difficult to focus, I did my best to push away the agony-numbing miasma that guarded the remnants of my sanity-such as it is. As the clouds drifted back at my mental urging, the pain began to well up, gushing through the cracks, my nerves reawakening to a blistering torment that sparked off like firecrackers buried under my skin.

I fought it off and concentrated on the leaden mass in my stomach. Picturing the sphere I’d swallowed, I imagined myself absorbing it, willing it to crack open and join with my essence.

It was as easy as that.

Less than a heartbeat later, I felt the foreign hardness in my gut soften and melt away. Tingles spread through my body in a rush, phantom itches that couldn’t be scratched. They took a bite out of the agony, then another, and another, until I felt it no longer.

Then suddenly, I was sucked under. Pleasure like I’d never felt before caressed my every nerve, a lifetime of orgasms squeezed into an instant, every molecule of my body experiencing it at once. I lay there twitching, unable to see through the whitewash of rapture, the chaotic world around me a distant memory I wanted no part of.

I don’t know how long I was caught up in it, the ravaging force of the transfer leaving no room for anything but the bliss of its touch, but it seemed to go on forever. Gradually, I began to come down, the whirlpool of sensory overload easing off, my mind settling into a clarity it’d never known.

Suddenly very mindful of my surroundings, I looked to my shoulder and saw the blade no longer protruded from it. It lay on the ground beside me, covered in the dark blood of my now closed wound. My eyes drifted down to my side. It was the same. The eight inch deep gash that had been carved just above my hip was gone, not a trace of it left.

Having only gone through two other soul transfers, both minor in scale, I was amazed by how good I felt, how powerful. Feeling like I could take on the world, I hopped to my feet and looked for Rahim.

He stood before Daartan, a sputtering shield of red held out in front of him as he loosed a mystical blast at the revenant, the air thick with magical resonance. Still burning with flickers of Rahim’s flaming manifestation of power, Daartan absorbed the blow with a howling groan, and lashed out in response.

His glowing fist crashed through Rahim’s shield, slamming into the wizard’s ear. His head snapped to the side and he went down hard, spinning to a crash. His eyes were open, but the lights were way out.

Furious at myself for being too slow to keep Rahim from getting hurt, I reached for Katon’s sword. Even if I couldn’t win, I was gonna make a fight of it.

A strong, bronze hand beat me to it, plucking it from the ground and drawing it out of sight behind me. I froze when I saw the silky purple of the connected sleeve. Slow and careful, I raised my hands and turned around as a wash of mystical energy I hadn’t noticed earlier, resonated clear against my senses.

The steely eyes of Longinus met my trembling gaze. The gray pall, which had colored his skin as he lay on the tarmac was gone, replaced with a deep tan. His face was as smooth as new leather. Though several inches shorter than me, he was built for power, his barrel chest twice that of mine. His arms were easily the size of my head.

He stared at me a moment, his expression neutral, before casting a glance beyond to where Daartan stood. Anger sparked off in his eyes and he reached up and laid a strong hand on my shoulder. I stiffened, expecting violence, but he only moved me to the side so he could step past.

“Knight!” His voice rang out like a hammer against an anvil, its force silencing all else on the inauspicious night.

Daartan looked up from Rahim and stared at Longinus, his eyes like miniature suns in the sky of his face. He glanced to where the Anti-Christ had laid until just moments before, then back to Longinus, then back and forth once more. The disbelief written across his face was almost comical.

“There is much we must discuss.”