Bloody Valentine
Page 12

Now they were underneath the room where Oliver was being held. While there was no way to enter the room in the physical world without breaking through to the floor above, there were no such barriers in the glom. Once Jack was in the twilight world, he would be in the same space as the Venators. He could attack without even entering the room.
“It sounds like there are hundreds of them up there,” Schuyler said.
Jack nodded. It was the perfect plan. As Abbadon, he would subdue the Venators in the glom, while Schuyler and Bliss rescued Oliver in the physical world.
“Jack…” Schuyler said. She bit her lip. “Be careful.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”
Jack Force moved into the glom. Schuyler was right: he had sensed the presence of more than a hundred Venators guarding the former Conduit in the physical world. Yet only three of the Truth Seekers were posted in the glom.
Strange that his enemies had chosen to keep their forces gathered in the tangible universe. Surely they knew Abbadon would attack in the twilight world first. Which meant the Venators did not fear his strength in the glom. But why?
Jack hunched downward, clenching his fists.
The first Venator dove headlong toward Jack, wielding a black sword. Jack met the man’s thrust by grabbing the Venator’s wrist and turning the blade toward the Venator’s own body. He used the momentum of the Venator’s own charge against him and drove the blade right into his opponent’s knee, splitting the flesh and tearing the joint wide. The Venator rolled sideways in agony as he drifted out of the glom. The remaining two formed a tight circle around Jack.
They attacked in unison this time, one advancing from the front while the other slid toward him from the rear. Jack preempted their attack, leaping backward to smash into the attacker’s chest. The move was unexpected, and he hit the man hard before the Venator had drawn his blade. His adversary reeled to the ground, stunned.
Jack’s unexpected leap kept him clear of the third Venator’s advance for a moment, and he took the opportunity to remove the sword from the Venator’s fallen comrade before the man slipped out of the glom. Jack swung the blade in a tight arc, feeling the weight of the sword, sensing its internal balance and strength.
He tossed the weapon to his other hand and traced a line inches from the Venator’s chest. “Call your friends. They were arrogant to have sent only three men when a hundred wait in reserve. Call them all if you think you have a chance of taking me tonight.”
Jack held the man’s gaze and did not blink. He waited until the Venator disappeared from the glom before relaxing his hand.
Would they take the bait? Their plan would only work if Jack could draw all of them into the glom and away from the room where they held Oliver.
Jack waited in the void of the glom, tense and alone. He balanced his sword in readiness. Where were they?
Finally, the first Venator blinked into the spirit world.
Jack raised his sword and then raised it higher as more and more of them appeared. He had miscalculated. There were more than a hundred of them. Their numbers were astounding. Almost all of the Vena-tors in service to the European Coven had to be here. The Countess wanted her revenge very dearly, it was clear.
He was surrounded. Jack did the only thing he could—he lowered his weapon. It was useless against a group of this size. The Venator army closed in tightly around him. Their faces were calm. They had no fear. Their numbers were vast, their strength overwhelming.
“Surrender, Abbadon! Your defeat is guaranteed.” The words came from a vampire Jack did not recognize. The Venator that led this army had been nothing more than a foot soldier in the celestial army Jack had commanded long ago.
This was going to be too easy, really. He began the transformation into his true form, calling up the immortal spirit that was housed in his blood for time immemorial. Abbadon, the Unlikely. Angel of the Apocalypse. Destroyer of Worlds.
But nothing happened. No dark wings sprouted from his back, no horns grew on his forehead, he was without the strength of a million demons coursing through his veins. He remained Jack Force. Just another eighteen-year-old boy.
Ah.
So that was their game.
He had guessed as much, the moment Schuyler had drawn those two circles on his palm. Had seen her hands shake as she had put the ring on his finger. They had placed a cursed bonding spell on them, to limit his powers. To stop him from turning into Abbadon. Held back by the love she felt for him. He had noticed that telltale stone around her neck, disguised as a pendant. They were watching, they were waiting. This is what they wanted him to do. They wanted him weak and vulnerable, bereft of his immortal power.
“Something wrong, Abbadon?” the Venator sneered. “Where is your strength now?”
Jack sighed. “Do you truly believe that brute force is my only weapon? That after centuries of rule in Heaven, I wield no power but my own sword?”
The Venator smirked. “What other power could you possibly still have? After today, they will call you Abbadon the Weak.”
In reply, Jack spoke a small incantation, a prayer that only he could fashion. The glom darkened considerably, and from the fatal blackness arose the creatures of the Underworld, the Black Fire elementals at his command, as one of the First Born, an Angel of the Dark, captain of the lost and withering souls of Hell.
Abbadon might be chained, but Jack still carried his spirit, and the primal creatures bowed to their master. He screamed as he drove his dark army into battle. How ironic that stripped of his power to transform, only then did he recall the breadth and depth of the darkness that had molded him. For too long he had not made use of the powers of the Dark, had not tapped into the deep, hidden strength of the Underworld where he had been made and his name forged in fire and death.
The dark creatures overpowered the Venators in strength and number. Jack pitied the Truth Seekers until he remembered Schuyler’s anguished face from earlier that evening. The Countess had brought death and bloodshed to their bonding. That could not be helped now. He only hoped Schuyler had been able to carry out her part of the plan, that she and her friends were safe.
Jack looked down at the band of steel that was wrapped around his finger, dull and ordinary, even as its dark magic glowed with a fiery treachery.
FIVE
Rescue Party
Schuyler shivered as Jack disappeared into the glom. He would be vulnerable in the glom, just as the Venators had wanted. What would become of him? She had to trust that he would be fine. That he could take care of himself, and that he had understood what she could not tell him.
Before they had set off, Jack had asked her to believe in him and follow their plan. He would draw all the Venators to the glom and take care of them there while she and Bliss freed Oliver. Jack had been clear about one thing: whatever happened, she had to trust him. Even if something happened that she did not understand. He had asked her to promise, and she had agreed.
“Ready?” she asked Bliss, looking up at the ceiling.
“Are you sure you can do this?” Bliss asked, looking doubtfully at the thick planks.
Schuyler thought back to her earlier encounter with the Venator. She had not known the full strength of her sword until the moment she had nearly hacked apart the entire roof structure without so much as breaking a sweat. “I think I can make a little hole in the floor.” She smiled as she raised her sword to the floorboards above.
The blade carved a rough hole in the ceiling. Schuyler leapt through the gap and gazed down at Bliss. “Join me?” she asked. Bliss frowned and Schuyler realized she had forgotten that her friend now lacked the power she took for granted. “Sorry,” she said as she reached down through the hole and lifted Bliss up into the room.
They found themselves staring at a sea of blank faces. Schuyler met the impassive gaze of the nearest Venator. He looked as if he were in a trance. Her heart raced. Jack’s plan was working. He had drawn the Venators into the glom. Now it was her turn to complete the rescue.
“Let’s split up, make sure they’re all gone,” Schuyler said.
They made their way through the catatonic crowd. When a person was in the glom, their body remained limp and motionless in the physical world. She looked into the eyes of each Venator she passed and saw Bliss doing the same. The army was defenseless. Defenseless only if they had all moved into the glom, she thought. She knew better than to believe that the Truth Seekers would leave themselves unprotected. There had to be someone here who was pretending, playing dead, playing possum. She had to find him before he found her.
“Umgghh.”
The sounded echoed through the silent hall. It had to be Oliver. He was somewhere in the back, obscured by the mass of bodies. Schuyler and Bliss raced toward him from opposite sides of the room. Schuyler shoved right and left, pushing roughly through the somnolent Venators that had taken her friend hostage and threatened his life.
She found Oliver, gagged and tied to an old wooden chair.
Bliss arrived at the same time. She looked over her shoulder and said, “I think they’re all out, Sky.” Gingerly, she poked one of the Venators on his shoulder while staring directly into his dead eyes.
“Keep looking; we are not alone. I’m sure of it,” Schuyler said, as she ripped the gag from Oliver’s mouth.