The Brutal Time Special Edition Page 3
“It’s Saturday,” says Lincoln. “Evening approaches. I’m done blessing ships. Your quilting contest is over. And Maxon is safely in the care of Xavier.”
I bob my brows. “Xavier, eh? In all the excitement, I’d forgotten he signed up for babysitting duty.”
Lincoln lowers his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Do you have plans to convince your father of something, Myla?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Drusus has gone invisible.”
Lincoln’s mismatched eyes fill with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. It won’t be easy to acquire magic to see Drusus once he’s vanished. Heaven is rather particular about those things.”
“Hence why I need to manipulate my father. For good, though.”
“Always.” Lincoln scans the passage ahead while his forehead crinkles into one of his thinking looks. “I can’t shake the feeling that all this is connected. The fading angels … Colossus … the Crimson Scourge.”
“About that.” It takes a few minutes, but I review everything I learned during this morning’s adventure at the Sunset Retirement Community.
“Let me get this straight,” Lincoln says afterwards. “These ladies wish you to create your own knights of the round table to address the fading angels problem.”
“And I agree with that part.”
“Yet according to these same women, you must also acquire a certain Band of Epochs which—if you use it—could save the fading angels. At the same time, it might also empower the Crimson Scourge, free Colossus, and cause the end of the world.”
“And that part is crap on a cracker. I can find my own knights of the round table here, in the present, without risking a demonpocalypse, thank you very much.”
“You always have Walker and my help, should you require it.”
“And I totally love that about you.” I sigh. “It’s just that I’m the Great Scala. It’s a huge job. I could corral you and all my friends and family into pitching in, but it still wouldn’t be enough. And honestly?” I take care to meet his gaze when I say this next part. “Doing this by myself is a thing with me. A challenge. And you know how I am about stuff like that.”
“I do.” Leaning in, he brushes a gentle kiss across my lips. “You have my full support, whatever you decide.”
Warmth and love spread through me. “Thank you.”
“Now.” Lincoln bobs his brows. “Let’s go blow shit up.”
I smile my face off. “Oooooh, I love it when you swear.”
“That’s why I save it for special occasions.”
And so, hand in hand, Lincoln and I step off into the tunnel. As we move into the darkness, I come to an important conclusion.
This could be the best date night, ever.
5
Lincoln
Myla and I move deeper inside the mountain. After a few twists in the passage, the stone hallway opens to a large round chamber. The moment we step inside the room, lanterns flicker to life above us. They’re the boxy kind where light peeps out through punch-holes in metal.
“Odd,” I say. “Those were enchanted to simply turn on when we entered.”
“Right?” asks Myla. “There wasn’t even a door, let alone a lock.” My girl narrows her eyes. “This is all too easy.”
“Perhaps Lucifer just became overconfident in his hiding spot,” I offer. Which is possible. The ex-King of the Angels is nothing if not supremely secure in his own amazingness.
“Even so, we shouldn’t touch anything. You don’t know what around here is booby-trapped.”
“Agreed.”
With that, Myla and I step further into the space. The floor is lined with a patchwork of wooden tables covered in white sheets. That’s rather standard for a laboratory.
What’s breathtaking are the walls.
Lucifer’s lab is a round and towering chamber that’s lined with shelves. Hammers, chisels, and other tools lie closest to the floor. Above that come shelf after shelf of books, all of them covered in leather. Next follows a section filled with ingredient jars in all shapes and sizes. Above it all, a network of glass pipes and tubes wind toward the ceiling. At the peak of the lab, a strange suit of armor hangs suspended from chains.
“One thing I’ll say for Lucifer,” I announce. “The man was organized.”
Myla nods. “All he had to do was fly around to get whatever he wanted.”
All of a sudden, the hairs on the back on my neck stand on end. Energy churns through my muscles. No question about it. My hunter’s sense is going berserk, and for one reason.
We aren’t alone.
“Oh, do you see that?” Myla points to a stretch of far wall where an alcove’s been carved into the stone. Even with all the dust, there’s no missing the bright colors from that spot.
“I do.” My hunter’s sense goes even further on edge. Every cell in body stays frozen in place as my senses reach out. Who’s in here?
Myla gestures to the alcove. “Let’s check it out.”
I shake my head.
“What is it?” asks Myla.
“Someone’s close.” Tilting my head, I further focus my senses. A gentle scratching sounds nearby. I turn toward Myla. “Did you hear that?”
“Nuh-uh.”
Scanning the floor, I find the barest lines cutting through the cobwebs. Something has been flying around this place, leaving trails as the ends of its wings brush the dusty ground. Interesting. With silent steps, I follow the path to a tall object covered in a white fabric. The linen rustles, yet there is no breeze.
That settles it. Whatever’s in here, it hides under that sheet.
I crouch low for a better look. The linen stops moving. A charged aura fills the air. I’ve hunted enough to know when a stranger is close. Little by little, I reach toward the dusty sheet.
All of a sudden, something flies out from under the fabric and heads straight for my face. Trouble is, the thing moves too quickly for me to get a good look. That means one thing.
Danger.
6
Myla
A white blob of fur flies right at my husband’s nose.
What the WHAT?
The thing misses Lincoln’s head to land on the floor before me. Turns out, it’s a mouse-sized creature whose white furry body is paired with matching wings. In other words, it’s a snow imp, a variety of demon that’s relatively harmless.
And to be honest, it’s also pretty damned cute.
I kneel down. “Hello, there. Did we frighten you?”
The snow imp grins, a movement that shows off its pointy snout and tiny teeth. “Fluffbottom, Fluffbottom,” it says in a squeaky voice.
“Is that your name?” I ask.
“Captain, Captain,” adds the imp.
“So your name is Captain Fluffbottom?” I clarify.
“Yes, yes. Captain Fluffbottom.”
“That’s a big name for a little guy.” Kneeling, I reach toward the imp. “Come here, Fluff. I won’t hurt you.”
In reply, the snow imp extends its wings. Swooping up, it lands on my shoulder. I don’t feel a thing, though. That’s not a surprise. Most tiny demons exude enchantments to avoid detection.
Lincoln eyes my new friend. “Snow imps often take up residence in caves.” He steps closer. “How long have you been here?”
Instead of replying, the imp rounds on Lincoln and hisses. Which—considering how Fluff is hanging out right by my ear—is a totally sucky experience. I pat his tummy with my pinky. “Calm down, Fluff. Just because Lincoln isn’t super-cool and demonic like you and me, that’s no reason to hiss at him.”
Fluff hisses again anyway.
Lincoln pauses and holds up his arms, palms forward. It’s the universal sign for, I’m not coming any closer. “You’re safe, little friend.” My guy scans the lab. “You’ve lived here for a while. What’s the best thing to see?”
“Oh,” I say. “Good question.”
Fluff bounces on my shoulder while pointing to a far wall. “There! There!” he cr
ies.
I scope out the spot that Fluff indicated. Sure enough, it’s the same alcove that I gestured to before. “Nice pick, Fluff.”
Lincoln nods. “Let’s check it out.”
At this point, my tail swoops around until the arrowhead end points right at Fluff. A long moment passes. What will my tail do? It’s not like I had pets or anything growing up. My tail normally gets all the attention. Yet now I have a furry Captain Fluffbottom taking up residence on my shoulder. The arrowhead-end arches toward Fluff. I suck in a worried breath. It’s really uncool if my tail skewers the snow imp.
“Uh oh,” I announce. “Tail alert.”
Lincoln pauses beside me. “This ought to be interesting.”
Little by little, the arrowhead end closes in on Fluff. Soon the pointy part is almost but not quite touching the snow imp’s tummy. Crud. That’s my tail’s move when it’s about to attack.
If Fluff is intimidated by my tail, the snow imp doesn’t show it. Instead, Fluff launches into a long stream of high-pitched chatter. I can’t understand much of what the snow imp says, but the words pretty tail and mighty warrior are clear.
That confirms it. Fluff is brilliant. My tail loves being sucked-up to.
Next Fluff reaches out to pet my tail’s end. And with that, it’s settled. My tail now has a new bestie. The arrowhead end touches Fluff on the head before going back to its regular hang-out spot by my ankles.
“We’re good,” I announce.
“Clever Fluff,” says Lincoln.
We then cross the room to check out the place Fluff pointed out before. And damn, what a spot it is. Up close, it’s clear that the alcove was hand-carved into the rock wall. Shelves of small statues fill the space from top to bottom. I move in for a better look.
What I see is a shocker.
The nook is filled with little dolls related to the King of the Archdemons.
“Whoa,” I say in a low voice. “This is like one of those serial killer shrines.”
“The top is all Colossus,” adds Lincoln.
Sure enough, the entire top shelf is covered with statues of the archdemon king. In the first figure, Colossus stands tall, showing off his muscular torso, four arms, and backwards-style animal legs. Colossus also has a goat-like head complete with wide cheekbones, small yellow eyes, and curly horns. Plus, his entire body is red. So there’s that.
Did I mention Colossus is also made from what looks like sand? He is. It’s the whole I’ll possess you power he has going on. If you try to punch him, your fist goes right through his sandy face. Makes fighting him extra-tricky.
I move to the next sculptures in line. Here Lucifer has created a series of figures that show Colossus going down on all six limbs to crawl around like a spider. Not something I needed to see.
Lincoln frowns. “I never would have pegged Lucifer as being a fan of Colossus.”
“Same here.” I bob my head and consider things. “Still, Lucifer wanted to wipe out all humans. Maybe he saw Colossus as a role model.”
“Or a tool,” adds Lincoln.
An odd tickle crawls up my arms. “You mean with something like that?” I point to the ceiling.
Lincoln and I both look up and hot damn, that’s not a great sight. When we first walked in, I noticed a set of suspended armor. Looking at it now, there’s no missing how the metal is forged to hold four arms, two backwards-style legs and one massive goat head.
Lincoln takes in a slow breath. “We are so destroying this place.”
“Sign me up.” Kneeling, I scan the lower shelves. “There are more statues down here.”
Lincoln crouches by my side. “Looks like they’re the Seven.” These are the seven archdemons—the ones who focus on one deadly sin each. Colossus can possess any of the Seven. The eighth figure, the Archdemon of Lust and Wrath, is a dragoness and does her own thing. She’s my fave, obviously.
“Yup.” I point to a pair of statues that look like armored knights. “There’s Null and Rage.”
Deadly sins tend to run in pairs, so Null and Rage are the Archdemons of Sloth and Wrath respectively. Null’s armor is all rusty while Rage is all black and badass.
Lincoln nods. “And next to them, it’s Plain and Vain.” Those are the Archdemons for Envy and Pride. They appear as figures in metallic cloaks with the hoods drawn low.
I point to the next statues. “Skyn and Bone.” In this case, Skyn and Bone are the Archdemons of Gluttony and Greed. You’d think this pair would be all chubby, but the driving force for those two sins is emptiness. As a result, they’re both skeletons.
Lincoln points to a figure who’s dressed in a bard’s outfit. “And that’s Lester.”
“What a loser.” As part lust demon, I find it offensive that the Archdemon of Lust is a greasy guy in a pouffy hat who carries a lute.
At this point, Fluff jumps off my shoulder to gesture at a small golden casket on the bottom shelf. “Gems! Gems!” he calls. Unlike everything else in the laboratory, this container isn’t covered in dust. It was opened and recently.
Leaning in, I scan the runes inside the small casket. “It says, Gemstones for the Staff of Avalon. There’s nothing inside, though.” I purse my lips. “What’s a Staff of Avalon?”
“Not sure.” Lincoln inspects the nearby floor. “There are more wing trails here.” He looks to Fluff. “Did you do this?”
“No, no,” comes Fluff’s squeaky response. “Another flew in here, stole the gems, and winged away. Stepping on the floor is bad.”
I wink. “Now he tells us.” I rub my temples and think things though. Some puzzle pieces fall into place. Others stay stuck between the metaphorical couch cushions.
“You have something for me?” asks Lincoln.
“The Crimson Scourge needs the band of Epochs to travel through time, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, maybe this evil mage needs more than just that signet ring.” I gesture to the empty container. “Do you think these gems could be part of the plan?”
“It’s possible.” Lincoln taps his cheek. “Staff of Avalon. That must concern King Arthur.”
All of a sudden, Fluff bobs on my shoulder. “Danger, danger,” he says in his squeaky mouse voice.
Lincoln stills. I know that look on my guy. It’s another one of his hunter-stances. In my experience, we now have a fifty-fifty chance of something big happening.
And by big, I mean lethal.
7
Lincoln
Once again, my hunter’s sense goes into overdrive. Energy pulses through my veins. I scan the laboratory closely. Shelf after shelf lines the towering walls. Cobwebs cover everything. Nothing has changed. That’s when I hear it.
Whirrrr. The barest mechanical sound fills the air.
“What’s wrong?” asks Myla.
“Not sure.” I focus on Fluff. “Do you know what made that sound?”
Fluff buries himself deeper into the hair that cascades over Myla’s shoulder. “Yes, yes.”
Myla pats Fluff’s back. “It’s okay. You can show us.”
Fluff swoops out to a tall object covered in a sheet. It’s the same place where the snow imp hid before. After grasping the fabric in his tiny claws, Fluff pumps his wings and flies upward. He’s certainly a strong little fellow. Once the sheet is gone, I find nothing less than the most amazing clock I’ve ever seen.
The device stands six feet high and is made in a classic grandfather clock design that’s tall and rectangular. However, the round clock-face holds no numbers (or arms) to indicate the time. That isn’t the most impressive aspect, though. The device is completely made from tiny golden crystals the size of matchsticks.
Myla gasps. “I’ve never seen apex crystals before.”
“Same here. And this clock must contain thousands of them.”
Gemstones store magic, some more than others. Apex crystals are the most valuable, considering how they’re small in size and yet hold more power than stones that are as big as Mack trucks.
“Boobytrap, boobytrap. Clock makes everything explode.”
All the blood seems to drain from my body. With this much apex crystal power, this entire mountaintop could be leveled. “How long do we have before this detonates?”
“Hours and hours,” says Fluff.
Myla and I share a long gaze. Fluff is many things, but an expert in time doesn’t seem like one of them.
“Let’s give it five minutes,” says Myla.
“Agreed.”
“That’s why Fluff only flies in here,” says the snow imp. “Step on the floor and the clock starts up. Afterwards, hours and hours go by before tick-tick-ding.”
“Tick-tick-ding?” repeats Myla.
“Oh.” Fluff rubs his little hands over his pointed face. “Tick-tick-ding-boom.”
“Understood,” I say. “The clock is some kind of bomb. And tick-tick-ding … that’s all the warning we’ll get before the proverbial boom?”
“Yes, yes,” replies Fluff. “First hours and hours, then tick-tick-ding-boom.”
I’m not happy that we’ve started a ticking bomb, but I’m not displeased either. It looks like we’ve plenty of time before the explosion itself, and the boobytrap does save us the hassle of wiring the place. There was no way we’d leave this lab without some kind of detonation.
Fluff swoops over to a nearby shelf of books. A heavy leather tome lays open there. “This, this,” says Fluff. “Tell you everything.”
“On our way,” I state.
Unlike Fluff, Myla and I must step around the tables in order to reach the same spot. I point to the opened book. “Is this the one?”
“Yes, yes,” says Fluff.
“And it’s okay to touch?” asks Myla.
“Fine, fine.”
Myla turns the pages. The volume is large and covered by detailed illustrations all signed by Lucifer. “Whoa,” she says. “I thought the wrath coven made some Colossus Kill Porn, but this is even worse.”