Faith of the Divine Inferno by Leslie Thompson (e textbook reader txt) 📕

at compass points around them. No matter how they milled and lashed out at one another, the symbol they created with their bodies remained intact as if there was some barrier keeping them in place. The stands of candles I had noticed earlier served as punctuation for the protective circle made of living bodies, directing the power contained in their lives to its ultimate purpose. Aside from the obvious purpose of protection and focus, I could not translate the spells underlying intent. But I had no doubt that there was some great and evil purpose beneath the simple spell.
The shadow hand saw the opportunity my distraction provided and seized me. Bitter cold blasted through me as I pulled frantically against it. With agonizing slowness, it drew me closer to the opal that Charlotte held out before her. The stone’s appearance had altered, with the swirling colors changed to hundreds of souls twisting and struggling against each other in a futile attempt to get free of their torment.
In my horror I forgot Charlotte’s promise to let me go, and I cast about for something, anything I could use to keep from being sucked into the hell of the opal. Ryerson pushed my body into the cauldron and then quickly fished it back out again and placed it back on the altar. At the sight of my unblemished form, the crowd went into a hideous frenzy, lifting their opals in unison and uttering a single word in a roar that could rend the heavens, “Stolas!”
Several feet away, a great fissure appeared in the air and opened on Finvarra’s throne room. The Morrigan Mob led by Morrigan herself poured out of it and sped toward the gathered crowd. The people turned to face the onslaught with mouths contorted into snarls and their bare hands curled into fists. They held true as the Fey women and Far Dorocha slammed into their ranks. The cult front lines yielded only a few centimeters to their assault, stubbornly refusing to be cowed to the death pouring down on them. Cruelly, the Faeries cut into the humans, killing all they faced in an effort to break their lines and get to Ryerson and Charlotte. Their efforts did little as Ryerson’s inner circle took positions at the points of an invisible pentagram and began to recite spells against them.
Mab and another faerie woman fell to the ancient magic being used against them, clutching their bellies and spitting curses. Grabbing rocks and using them with deadly force, the humans bludgeoned the fallen until their heads opened and they became still. Then they lifted the corpses and threw them against the altar, adding their bodies to the pile of their brethren.
A great shadow appeared over my body sprawled upon the altar, and in a swirling of a foul wind, it coalesced into a grotesque owl nearly identical to the one that had attacked me in the hotel room. It was bigger and thicker than the other had been, with scaled flesh stretched over the hooked beak and twisted, bony fingers protruding from battered feathers on bent wings to reach covetously for my body.
The idea of a demon possessing my immortal body sent a thrill of terror through my entire being. There was no telling what horror would befall the world if such a creature was allowed to become indestructible. I fought the hand drawing me ever closer to Charlotte, begging the other souls within the stone to help me. The spirits heard me and stopped fighting each other and turned their violence upon the hand that held me.
Suddenly, Morrigan lost all patience with the humans and she pointed at the people in front of her. She unleashed a bolt of electricity into their midst, while Far Dorocha left her side to plunge into the throngs with hands full of long, curved blades. Morrigan’s sisters Badb and Nemain followed him into the screaming masses and helped him cut a bloody swath through the circle. Bellowing angrily, Ryerson urged Stolas to take my flesh while Charlotte silently urged me to wait a few more seconds.
Seeing that Morrigan and her sisters were making progress through the congregation, my father lifted Areadbhar in his hands and charged them. Far Dorocha met him and they exchanged blows that ended when my father stabbed the faerie through his side. Areadbhar drank in the blood of the fallen Fey and sang for more. At that moment, two dozen men dressed in black Kevlar vests with the word SWAT written in white upon their backs burst onto the scene with guns in their hands.
A solitary figure split from the rest of the group and charged the circle on the other side from the place where the Mob had attacked the circle. He held a handgun in his left hand while his right arm glowed with an eerie light from shoulder to fingertip. As he streaked closer to the milling circle, a horde of the clinging shadows separated from their cult hosts and converged on the man running toward them. He braced himself for their attack, pulling his right arm back to defend himself.
His fist connected with the first of the fearsome shadows and ignited it in a white blaze that arched like lightening to its fellows behind. The creatures were incinerated in seconds, leaving the man blinking in surprise at the ease in which he had destroyed his enemies. The humans that had fostered the beasts turned and screamed their fury at the man, and they broke the circle to exact their revenge. The man lifted his gun and shot each of them once, aiming low and hitting their hips and legs rather than killing them outright. The humans fell to the ground and howled with pain and rage, but none of them moved to stop him as he ran past to deal with the rest.
Trying to get control, the SWAT leaders surrounded the crowd, and demanded that everyone get on the ground when everything fell to shit. Enraged by the loss of her Dark Man, Morrigan blasted the circle with fire and wind, cutting a channel through the bodies and breaking the circle in a second place. With the protective spell fragmented, and the focus for the magic lost, the crowd screamed in horror and ran in all directions. The earth lurched and buckled, throwing faeries and cops to their knees. Stolas plunged into my poor body and thrust upright with a scream of triumph and turned on Ryerson. With one hand, Stolas broke Ryerson’s neck with an easy twist of my wrist and tossed him aside like trash.
“Now, take back your body and drive Stolas out!” Charlotte released her hold on me and ran for it. She reached the retention pond as it exploded in gouts of water and fire that drove her to her knees and left her screaming in agony. The earth opened and sucked at the dirt and rocks beneath her. She uttered a final bloodcurdling scream and then she was consumed. I rushed back to my flesh and began a furious battle with the demon trying to take up residence inside of it.
There are no words that can accurately describe the disorientation that comes with demonic possession. I was blind and filled with the sensation of being smothered and consumed at the same time. I struggled to breath and move, but I could not do either. I heard the hideous voice of Stolas demanding that I give way to him. I refused, though I would have fouled my pants if I had been capable of doing so. He slashed me with razor sharp talons and left wounds upon my soul rather than my body, until I felt as if I would die of it. Still I made a battle of it, refusing to abandon what had been mine for over two millennia and trusted that my familiar bond of flesh and spirit would be enough to drive the demon out.
I do not know if my efforts prevailed, or if it had been the intervention of one of the Morrigan Mob, or if police officer who had gotten lucky and accidentally drove the demon out. Relishing the feel of my flesh around me, my eyes fluttered open and stared up at the face in front of me. I saw a pair of electric blue eyes and thick, wavy brown hair that was streaked by the sun. A bandage had been taped to his forehead over his right eye. “They told me you were dead.”
“I’m not dead.” Shaw assured me with a warm smile.
Hysterical with the joy that he was alive, I flung my arms around Shaw to weep and babble into his neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” I cried while he chuckled at me and patted my back with one hand. It took more of an effort than was pretty, but he managed to pry me off of him and set me on my feet.
“We have to get you to safety,” he said. “All Hell is breaking loose.”
He meant that literally. What could only be described as a Hell Mouth had opened up where the retaining pond had been, and it was vomiting up balls of colored light, winged imps, laughing demons, and screaming spirits. Fire flared up and down from the pit, belching gouts of brimstone and sulfur into the air.
Cult members were fleeing for their lives, getting slaughtered by the cackling members of the Morrigan Mob, or being pounced upon and possessed by demons. The cops were doing what they could to stem the chaos, but they were fighting a losing battle. A few of them fell to the demons as well, and they had to be put down when they started killing their fellows. Anyone not running for their lives or dying was praying frantically to whatever deity that came to their minds.
Standing at the edges of the fear and death was my father, glaring dark eyes full of murder. Mabel Fortuno appeared and stood beside him with her arm through his as she gave me a haughty smirk. Now that Ryerson was dead, she had attached herself to another man she thought would give her power, and she was welcome to him. My father was far more cruel than Ryerson had been, and I could not think of a more fitting fate for her than the misery my father would pile upon her lovely head. My father still had Areadbhar in his hand and he lifted it to me in a deadly promise that I would see him again. I returned the gesture with a silent promise to send him back to Hell where he belonged. Then the pair turned and they disappeared into the madness.
Not to be left out of what was the most significant supernatural event in history, The Children of Orpheus and the Conservatoris made their belated entrance. The Children dove right into the chaos, rescuing cultists and cops alike and taking them to safety. The Conservatoris took on the demons in battle, chanting Biblical scripture and shooting anything that wasn’t human with squirt guns filled with holy water. It looked silly but it worked, except when they came up against a rather large and furious beast that gobbled up two of their men. They used real bullets on that thing, and it sullenly retreated back into the hole it had crawled out of.
Soon the Children and