with wide-open eyes.
“Kim, were you not there when we talked about this downstairs? What is wrong with you? Look, I know why he came here, okay, honey? I know what he is and what he was planning. But the key word here is was. You forget he tried to save me. He stabbed himself trying to kill the thing that was James.” I didn’t know that for sure, but it was plausible. “That has to count for something. Don’t you think this is just as confusing for him as it is for you and me?”
I breathed. “We’re all in a mess, Kim. This whole thing is a mess. We need to stick together; it’s the only way we’re going to find out what’s true. Look. He’s still here with us; he hasn’t run off or tried to kill us. We’re alive. That’s all I can think about right now. I’m so tired my brain hurts.”
Kim looked at me. “I just love you. That’s all. I’m a little scared. I feel like we’re all out here alone, lost.” She started to cry.
I took her hand. “Hey. Stop that. I love you too, Kim. You’re my total BFF, and we’ll get through this together. Just let me talk to him and don’t get in the middle of it.”
“But I am in the middle of it. Whether you like it or not, I am smack dab in the middle of all of this.”
“Good point.”
“So now what?”
Another good point. I didn’t know what to do really. I felt like Kreios was the only being on earth who could answer that question. “I wish Kreios was here. He would know.”
“Are we in danger?” She was looking at me like a frightened little girl.
I considered my response. “My heart tells me yes.”
“So he’s right. We need to jet. Like ASAP.”
“Yup,” I said.
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“Just one thing: Can you keep yourself from killing Michael for now?”
“I’ll be watching him. You can bet on that.” Her eyes were dark.
CHAPTER IX
Springdale School, Oregon, present day
STILLNESS.
The building had been a school at one point, the kind found in small towns. The gym also served as the cafeteria and the concert hall; it had a stage on one side. There was a baseball field out back too, maybe four buildings including the maintenance shed.
This one…like a judge he had made determinations, ruling out possibilities until he made his ruling on…this one.
The mostly abandoned buildings had been commandeered as a staging ground for the Portland pod of the Brotherhood. The leader, Trina, had foolishly kept studious records, images on her computer at the bar, and even more good information at her apartment. She wasn’t the first woman to find her way into the Brotherhood. The Celts of old had started it. Their women were fierce in battle; plus it was a clever tactical decision.
This clan boasted one thousand three hundred twenty-one members, not counting stragglers and recruits. It was simple to do, really; an emergency meeting called by the Infernal—through Trina’s easily hijacked Facebook account—and the pod members gathered like dumb little sheep.
The deputy Infernal called the meeting to order. The hosts of the demon horde sat on folding metal chairs like obedient Nazi party members, ready to salute. They all awaited the Infernal, the master propagandist. Soon she would come out from the shadows, stride to the dais and begin the exhortation.
Kreios could feel his power draining with each second. He would need to make this quick. “This should be quick and easy,” Kreios said softly as he quietly bolted the door and drew his sword. He couldn’t think about the questions surrounding the disappearance of the Sword of Light. He could think of no reason why it should be lost—he was the last of his bloodline—again, and he should be carrying it. Why was he not? Only El knew. He had simply placed a lid on those questions, purchased a massive hand-made Irish hand-and-a-half sword from Fred Harmon’s smith shop in Portland, and got on with it. He was just a workman who needed a tool.
His battle plan was elegantly simple. Kreios threw the breakers, killing all the lights. He stepped in, took to flight in a circle around the room, and cut down each putrid crust of flesh as he moved inward, tightening the noose. By the time those in the middle perceived him it was too late for them.
They had sown the wind.
They would reap the whirlwind—Kreios.
And then it was still.
Dark.
Kreios was soaked in it.
The