Rapture Falls

  Baine staggered out into the night under the support of Lucifer, she dragged him up the stairs and into the cold air, his insides were slowly beginning to knit as he held his internal organs in pressing his opened sides together. He did not speak as he tried to sort through his current situation, the bitch that had tried to gut him in the Cardiff police station had just saved his life, of that he had no doubt. The fucker in the pit was another goddamn angel, he did not know just how many of these bastards were still left, Michael and Azazel were gone, and Gabriel couldn’t have been here as he would have been leading the charge. Lucifer however now seemed to be wearing a white hat and charging to his rescue, as to her reasons they were a mystery, but there did seem to be a subtle change in her, when they had first met she had been as cold as ice and as hard as stone, but now there was a softening of sorts. She had spoken to the Azazel with kindness and a kind of regret, he was through trying to make sense of all of this and was now just looking to hold his guts in, get out of this mess in one piece and find his dancer.

  The buildings were of a large farmhouse estate that had seen better days, judging by the size and scope of the grounds, they had come up under a large dark field and found the area deserted, recent tyre marks sat heavily in the wet mud led towards a narrow B road passing the main house. A quick check around informed him that they were currently alone here, a collection of parked cars still remained, presumably belonging to those left behind lying under in the pit. Lucifer led him towards the house at a faster rate than he would have liked, she seemed almost desperate to reach the house and dragged him with incredible strength that was forceful but none too comfortable as his ruined body attempted its reconstruction. They hit the closed front door without slowing, the solid heavy door surrendered easily under her assault, they spilled into the hallway, Baine would have liked a stealthier approach but Lucifer appeared to have little interest in a quiet entrance. She dropped him heavily onto the hardwood floor, he ground his teeth together in order to prevent the scream threatening to burst forth and shatter the silence, if Lucifer did not care about announcing her presence he certainly did. She disappeared into the dark house, gone in a flash, Baine pulled himself across the floor to the wall, out of harm’s way, his temperature was sky high as his body focused all of its energies on repairs forgoing many of its primary functions. His feet slipped and skidded on his bloody trail as they fought to find purchase on the slick wooden flooring, when his back finally hit the wall he paused, he was helpless until his body was functioning again, he could only wait and if it didn’t seem laughable, pray.

  Lucifer tore through the house in a panic, her mind would not hold, her emotions a whirlwind threatening to cloud all reason, her detective was here and while he still breathed so did she. The large lounge was completely dark as she ran through without pausing, a heavy lounge chair was sent flying as she hit it without registering the impact. She suddenly stopped and bent forward, grabbing her thighs hard, exquisitely manicured nails ripped deep into her flesh as she used every ounce of self control she had left, she stood slowly, tuning her senses to the environment. She caught a scent then it was gone, she heard a wet breath then lost it, there, there, she felt his heartbeat, faint and struggling, she ran to the hallway, a small utility cupboard under the stairs. She paused before opening it, scared of what lay beyond; she closed her eyes for a second and opened the door. McCullum lay curled within the darkness, his breathing rattled in his chest, his pulse was erratic and distant, she knelt to him, the large pool of blood began soaking through her trousers. She pulled his head tenderly onto her lap and stroked his feverish forehead; strange salty leakings fell from her onto his hair as she comforted him. He was fading fast, she could tell that he did not have long left, she was sure that he had held on for her, she made the decision quickly. Cradling his head in her right arm she raised her left arm, using her mouth she pulled back her sleeve exposing her wrist she tore it open with her teeth and allowed the blood to flow steadily. She held her opened wrist to his face and forced the blood into his mouth, at first he resisted, twisting away from the coppery liquid, slowly he began to drink, reluctant at first then in large eager gulps as his strength returned. She began to drift and fade as he drew her life-force, his grip tightened on her arm as he drank greedily; she used her very last dregs of power to pull her arm from him.

  The black cupboard grew light as McCullum began to glow, an aura of brilliant white emanated from the detective, he started to move, clenching and unclenching his fists, his eyes grew bright and alert. He crawled over the woman out into the hallway, standing his spine cracked violently, his muscles flexed with power, his mind was sharp to the here and now but without access to his vault. He knew neither who nor where he was, he knew that he had been close to death but now he was stronger than he had been, he was a soldier and his was a solitary purpose, to protect his queen. He lifted her weakened body out of the cupboard effortlessly, she clung to him and he surrendered into her gaze as she looked up at him, she gestured for him to lower her to the floor, she swayed once, twice then steadied. She took his hand and led him down the hallway, there was a man sitting against the wall, his face was pale and drawn, she released his hand and pointed, he scooped up the injured man flinging him over his shoulder as though he weighed nothing. They headed out into the cold night air, McCullum waited nervously whilst his queen disappeared from sight; he shifted anxiously from foot to foot hating for her to out of his sight for even a second. His shoulder began to feel wet as the man currently laying over it leaked fluids, he did not know who the man was but felt an immediate rush of dark jealousy at his queens concern for him, he exercised his new found strength by gripping the man un-necessarily hard and smiling unpleasantly at the pained moans that drifted upwards.

  Lucifer quickly examined the deserted parked cars pausing to check the ignitions, she found a sleek Porsche and a rusty Renault van both still held their owners keys, not wanting to draw any un-necessary attention and with some reluctance she took the van. Her strength was slowly returning but somewhat diminished, she knew that it would never fully return, McCullum would be stronger now as her life would pulse through his veins, just what his limitations would be she had no idea, as far as she knew no one had ever attempted to bond with a human as she had before. She drove the rattling vehicle on its shot suspension up to the farmhouse entrance, McCullum quickly hoisted Baine into the rear of the van without much subtlety or concern for his wounds and leapt into the passenger seat. She drove out over the cattle grid and onto the rutting lane beyond, the sun was beginning to rise casting a soft red glow across the horizon as morning approached. She could see through the dirty windscreen that their location was desperately rural, after about ten minutes of fruitless driving she paused on the poor excuse for a road, she debarked and climbed onto the bonnet for a better view. The green fields stretched beyond the horizon on all sides only broken by the distant blue shimmer of the ocean, try as she might she could not spot any kind of main road crisscrossing the farming landscape, Lucifer sat down heavily upon the increasingly dented bodywork. As tranquil as the view was it did nothing for her agitated mood, she had lost Baines book and with it possibly their only chance of salvation, she had searched the farmhouse, barn and the body of Azazel for the book but it was missing and she had no idea to whom the arrogant sod had passed it to. All she had now was Baine and whatever secrets that his memories still held.

  Baine lay as still as he could in the bouncing rear of the unstable van, he fought the raging tide of frustration, all he could feel now was the crushing weight of expectation, it was an emotion that he was not used to, to have the responsibilities of others was not something that he would have placed upon his own shoulders. He closed his eyes and sought to find his centre, a peaceful interlude that would calm his raging thoughts and allow clarity to rule over his usual head down crash ball approach, after a moment, there she was, his dancer moved with poetry through his mind, her flowing hair sparkled in the bright lights and
her light skin glistened with sweet perspiration. Her influence soothed his troubled mind and allowed his breathing to slow and relax, the first thing that he needed was somewhere to hole up and heal, his ability to regenerate was still intact but without the book its speed was greatly reduced and he needed somewhere safe. He had no idea just how far and wide the followers of either the Grigori or the 11th Order reached, judging by his experiences so far he could not feel confident in trusting anyone and he was beginning to feel like an extra from The Wickerman. The bitch was driving and now appeared to have the Cardiff detective in tow, the effortless nature with which he had been thrown over McCullum’s shoulder told him that the man was no longer a man at all if he ever was, she was different and so was her pet, in his current weakened state he had no choice but to accompany them, an unwitting passenger to wherever they were taking him. If she had wanted him dead then he would be already, of that he had no doubt, the truth was that she had saved his life, he was under no illusions that he may well be out of the fireplace and into the fire but for now he had no choice, so he concentrated on his dancer and made her silent promises.

  Lucifer climbed back into the van, her detective looked at her with total devotion, she leant over and kissed him softly, she wiped away a little dried blood from his check, his lips were warm and she wished that they had the time to linger. She tore herself reluctantly away and decided to head downwards towards the coast figuring that commercially there must be a greater chance of civilisation next to sea than heading into the green hills. The van bounced and jolted her along the winding lanes, the narrowness worried him and she drove the van slowly as any approaching vehicle would not have time to stop if they met on a corner and the last thing she needed at the moment was an accident requiring the attendance of the police. Eventually the dangerous lane became a tapered road, the water grew closer and she could see buildings coming into view, she paused at a weathered sign, the wood was splintered and worn, the paint was peeling but still legible, it read “Bay View Guesthouse” with an arrow pointing downwards, Lucifer followed the directions and pulled into a well kept driveway. The house was large and beautifully formed, she exited the shabby van and saw and appreciated a front garden that was immaculate with endless colours and rich aromas, flowering greenery climbed wooden structures forming a coloured guard of honour along a walkway leading from the driveway to the house, momentarily leaving her passengers behind she could see a manicured lawn stretching beyond the house as he moved towards the front door.

  “Hello” a cheery voice sang from around the side

  Lucifer followed the voice and found a gardening dressed woman pruning and digging over a small flowerbed, her age was difficult to determine, her hair was pure white and her face wrinkled, she stood without the aches and pains associated with the elderly, she looked strong and healthy with a maternal aura.

  “Was it a room that you were after?” she asked, her glowed with a soft Irish lilt

  “Please” responded Lucifer, she felt an uncharacteristic smile etch across her mouth, the woman seemed to illicit a friendly warmth even from his cold demeanour

  “Well now I don’t get many visitors anymore” she walked over to him and extended a firm hand “I’m Marie, Marie Leary and you’re more than welcome” she pumped his hand enthusiastically and Lucifer smiled for one of the few genuine times in her life.

  CHAPTER XI

  NEARLY THERE

  “Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother”

  Matthew 10:34-35

  Gabriel strode through the night in anger, his mood swings had never been more drastic, he had left the hotel in good spirits upon receiving the fax with the symbol, but his good mood had since evaporated upon hearing the news of Azazel’s death at the hands of Baine. His surviving informants had furnished him with sketchy details of the clash at the farmhouse, Michael was gone along with Samyaza and Azazel, the latter even more distressingly at the hands of Lucifer who had sprung even sprung Baine into the bargain and disappeared into the night. The human followers of all denominations were scattering into the night winds as fast as their puny legs could carry them, the 11th Order and the Grigori were gone whilst Michael’s new vision had barely gotten off the ground, and to top everything off Raphael had fled with the only access to all of their financial resources. All of these outcomes were terrifyingly unforeseen, all of his meticulously laid plans were spiralling out of his control, it was with unwavering certainty that he had plotted the world’s path, never contemplating alterations to his original design and yet he now found himself uncertain. Baine had been prophesised, the involvement of De Payens, Lucifer and the Grigori, all of these elements had been drawn together as per his will and now it seemed that he was no longer in control. He had not predicted the death of his brothers, Michael and Raphael had betrayed him and most worrying of all was the fact that his power over McCullum had now seemingly disappeared to the point that the shaved apes action were now blind to him. He had taken delight in the mother’s brutal murder and now his link, whilst not severed was simply missing leaving the detective to wander unchecked. Gabriel walked blindly from the hotel hoping to clear his muddled thoughts with the nights cold air, the town of Haverfordwest was relatively small and he soon found himself clear of the centres lights and evenings trade. He paralleled a small stretch of dual carriageway, the darkness only interrupted by the soft glow of the streetlamp hum; he turned blindly into a patch of rough grassland and headed through a leafless hedgerow and into a small field. So focused as he was on wrestling some sort of control over himself he did not hear or see the approaching shadows, they were in front of him before he looked up. There were six youths all in their mid to late teens by the look of them, wrapped against the cold in heavy hoodies and trousers hung so low it was a miracle that they stayed up at all, Gabriel looked up and over the confrontational teens. Their eyes sparkled with a feral excitement at their physical superiority over the unfortunate soul to fall across their path, Gabriel smiled and relaxed perhaps a little old fashioned exercise was all he needed to centre himself. The grass was wet and the clearing was dark as Gabriel found himself encircled by the eager thugs, suddenly they leapt forward with shouts and cries of bravado spawned by the overwhelming odds in their favour that created their cowardly confidence, the deserted nights air was soon filled with screams of terror and the wet pants of last dying breaths. After a short quiet break Gabriel exited the rough patch of abandoned wasteland, he was wearing a tracksuit top taken from the largest of the thugs as his own jacket was splattered and ruined with crimson stains. His mind was as crisp and clear as the star sprinkled sky,

  “Ah, Lucifer you sly fox” he muttered to himself pleasantly, he could see McCullum’s line once again, it was faint and stank of Lucifer’s attempt to cover it, he could not see her motives but could feel her involvement. Only Baine danced tantalisingly just out of reach, try as he might he could not seem to break through a distorting wall of interference that seemed somehow strangely familiar, there was a brief scent of another’s presence that quickly evaporated leaving him unsure just what it was that he had felt.

  Superintendent Andrew Irving checked his rear view mirror for the thousandth time and forced his pounding heart to slow as it threatened to burst from his chest and splatter across the windscreen. He was finally doing it; the time was upon him after all of these hard years of pacing the halls and drowning in lakes of ineptitude. He had swallowed bitterness and bile at his pathetic peers for eternity ever since his communion into the 11th Order over thirty years ago, his ascension through the police ranks had been relatively swift by conventional standards but he considered himself anything but conventional. He had thrived under the weight of expectation placed on his slender shoulders by Gabriel himself, his position had been unclear but he was assured it was integral to the future of the Order and so he had slept beneath the
surface, making every useful bridge and connection within the police force and beyond, the level of the community that he was able to assimilate into grew with his rank and he now counted almost every influential man and woman that resided in Wales as fully fledged members. He either held friendship or else leverage on every useful soul that he could find, his personal files contained enough information and dirt to fund a small coup if Gabriel deemed necessary, he had fed the Order countless pieces of intelligence over the decades, from names and addresses to criminal and financial records, he had watched as bodies were fished from watery graves whilst obscure members of the community had flourished beyond comprehension. He had stood over the graves of fallen colleagues with appropriate renditions of grief knowing full well that they had fallen foul of the Order, he had played his part willingly, every time praying that it would lead him closer to the finish, as the motorway traffic blazed by he maintained a cautious and constant 66mph because despite his own power and influence the package that he carried in the roomy car boot would have sunk him, it was not the thought of a disgraceful incarceration that troubled him but the very thought of disappointing Gabriel that saddened him beyond words.