Requiem

The screeching grew louder, more excited, and then the gunfire began.



Ryan stopped, held his pistol to his chest, and then slammed his back to the wal . “Shit!”



“We can’t stay here! We have to go, Ryan. We have...to...go!” I pleaded, tugging on him with each word.



“I can’t leave her,” he said, looking up.



“The only way you can help her now is to stay alive!” I said, emphasizing each word.



He closed his eyes tight, and then grabbed my arm, pul ing me down the last two flights of stairs.



“This is the door to the al ey!” I said, pointing.



Ryan tugged on the handle a few times. When it wouldn't open, he aimed his gun, shooting a few rounds into the handle. I looked away, protecting my eyes from splinters flying in every direction.



Ryan rammed his shoulder into the door, forcing it open. I ran out into the al ey, struggling for breath. The darkness outside was so quiet, like we had entered a new world. The normal sounds of Providence were al around us: car horns in the distance, motorcycle engines revving as they pul ed away from a stop light, the last bit of rain water fal ing into the gutters—it was like I was caught in one of my dreams.



“Wake up,” I whispered, closing my eyes. I focused on my bed, and Jared's warm body next to mine. I opened my eyes, but the same scene was before me. I shut my eyes tighter this time. “Wake up!” I screamed.



Ryan gripped my shoulders, startling me. “It's not a dream this time, buddy. We need to move!”



Something dark and swift caught the corner of my eye. Not smoke, and not a shadow, but thicker than the night air.



“What the hel is that?” Ryan yel ed, shooting once. The bul et ricocheted off the brick of the building.



“Watch out!” I screamed as the cloud rose above both of us, positioned to attack.



Ryan shoved me out of the way, and I landed hard on my knees and hands. His body flew backward, hitting the building on the other side of the al ey, and he then fel the fifteen feet to the ground.



“Run, Nina!” Ryan said, stunned.



I scrambled to my feet, but before running off alone, I hesitated. Ryan was human, and I promised Claire to keep him safe. The blackness focused on me, and Ryan shot another round to return its attention to him.



“RUN!” he yel ed, shooting again. The invisible enemy dragged him back into the building by one foot, and he held his gun in front of him, shooting at what he couldn’t see.



Everything inside me wanted to stay, to try to help somehow, but I held the duffel bag close and dashed down the al ey, into the street. Tears fil ed my eyes, blurring my vision, final y spil ing over my cold cheeks.



Another al ey was ahead, dark and forbidding, but it seemed the right way to go, so I kept running.



When my lungs couldn’t take in enough air, I stopped, hunched over and puffing. Whatever it was that had Ryan couldn't be far behind, so I leaned against the back entrance of a building, working up enough courage to move. A bus stop was just a half block away.



“Take a step, Nina,” I said to myself, wil ing courage to move my feet. “It's right there,” I breathed, “Go!”



The door opened, causing me to lose my balance and fal back. Something grabbed me from behind, wrenching me inside with so much force that my hands, legs, and head al fel behind, jutting straight out in front me.



“Ssshhh!” Bex said, covering my screams with his hand.



More tears streamed down my face, and I threw my arms around his neck, sobbing with uncontrol ed relief.



He held me at bay, searching my eyes. “Where is everyone else?”



I shook my head. “I don’t…I don’t know,” I choked out.



“The book?”



I held up the duffel bag.



“Okay,” he said, hugging me to him. “Okay, let’s get you out of here.”



He led me to his Ducati that was parked around the corner, and we sped off, fishtailing down the street. As Bex took roads that would lead us to Woonsocket, I fantasized that Jared, Claire, and Ryan would be at St. Anne’s waiting for us.



I replayed what happened over in mind, wondering if I could have done something different, or if I should have tried to help Ryan. Risking his life— and ultimately Claire’s life— to steal a book that would save me was the epitome of selfishness…until I remembered that it would spare Jared as wel . Even knowing that, I wasn’t sure I’d made the right choice. Even if I was part of some kind of prophecy, our lives weren’t anymore valuable than Ryan’s or Claire’s.



Father Francis held open the door, waving for us to come inside.



“Are they here?” I asked, already knowing the answer.



The priest closed the door, and then shook his head, sad. “Not yet. You have it?”



“I do. It’s here,” I said, opening the duffel bag. I handed the leather-bound book to Father Francis, and he held it gingerly, as if he were holding a bomb.



He retreated to the front of the cathedral, sitting on the first pew. “The Naissance de Demoniac of Shax the Duke,” he whispered. He completed the sign of the cross, and then prayed over the book.



Bex closed his eyes, and then smiled. “They didn’t like that.”



Chapter Eighteen



The Mistake



It was my turn to pace.



Father Francis and Bex poured over the pages, searching for something to present to Jared upon his arrival. But it had been almost an hour, and we were stil the only ones that had made it to the church.



Every parishioner that entered the large, wooden door was politely turned away by Father Francis. It was harder for me to be polite, because each time the door opened, my heart stopped.



After my hopes had been dashed for the sixth time, anger took over. An older woman pushed her way through the door, only to be startled by the sight of me charging down the aisle. “Can't you see the sign? The church is closed!”



The woman scrambled to reach the door handle to escape.



“We need a bigger sign,” I said, crossing my arms.



“Patience, child,” Father Francis said, approaching me with a look of understanding. “He wil come.”



“When?” I said emphatical y. “He should be here by now. I feel like I'm going crazy.”



Father Francis gently guided me back to my pew, patting my shoulder. “Faith is what you need.”



“I used to have faith. It's hard when everyone tel s you that your death is inevitable.”



“Death is inevitable for us al ,” the priest said.



Bex looked up, his eyes narrowing.



“What?” I asked. “Is it Shax?”



“No,” Bex said, his eyes fluttering. “They've been crowding us since we got here, but they're....,” he opened his eyes, “al gone.”



“But...why?” I said, incredulous. The theme of the night had been that Shax had let us get away with his precious book far too easily. Their retreat only set me on edge, wondering when he would decide to put up a real fight.



Suddenly the door opened, cracking against the wal . Bex stood up, pul ing me with him, using his body as a shield.



“You got a bathroom, Father?” Kim asked.



Father Francis scurried down the aisle, shutting the door behind Kim. “Of course, child. Just through there,” he gestured.



“Not funny,” Bex said, frowning at her as she walked past.



“What?” Kim said, oblivious. “Just because you're being chased by hundreds of demons, a girl can't pee?”



Bex just shook his head, laughing once, absent of humor.



I col apsed into the pew, exhausted. “Something is wrong. They should be here by now.”



Bex glanced at me, and then turned a page of the book, choosing to ignore my words.



“I should have helped him. Ryan was dragged to his death, and I just ran away,” I said, feeling the sting of salty tears wel up in my eyes.



“I'm trying to read,” Bex grumbled.



A door slammed down the hal , and then Kim's loud footsteps announced her arrival before she came into view.



“Oh, geez. Are you crying?” she asked. “And where is everyone? They go out for ice cream or what?”



I dried my tear-stained cheeks with my sleeve. “Jared and Claire stayed behind to give me and Ryan time to get out. When we got to the al ey, something took Ryan.”



“Something?” Kim said, eyebrow raised. “Like what?”



“I don't know. I couldn't see it. It was kind of like a shadow...but it was more...,” I trailed off, unable to find the appropriate word to describe it.



“Shadowy?” Kim said, unimpressed.



I rol ed my eyes. “Not everything's a joke, Kim. Ryan's dead.”



“No he's not,” she replied, confident.



Her words peaked my attention. “Why do you say that? Have you heard something? Do you know where they are?”



Kim nodded to the door. “He looks like crap, but he's right there.”



I turned, gripping the top of the pew. Ryan, Claire, and Jared al stood near the entrance, dirty, blood-stained, and badly beaten. Before I registered that I was moving, my legs were carrying me down the aisle at ful speed, and I crashed into Jared's chest. He wrapped his arms around me tight, and sighed with relief.



“Easy,” Jared smiled, returning my repeated kisses as best he could. He kept his weight on one leg, and his pants were torn.



“What happened?” I said, crouching down to get a better look.



“We won,” Claire said with a tired smile.



Ryan limped slowly down the aisle, his arm around Claire. Blood trickled from the outside of his eyebrow, and he was favoring his bad shoulder.



They settled into a pew behind Bex, and Father Francis scurried away, waving back at them.



“I'l get the first aid kit!” he call ed to them as he disappeared down a dark hal way.



Jared smiled down at me. “We did it.”



I leaned up on the bal s of my feet to touch his lips to mine. Jared's words were empty. Winning that smal battle was only part of the war we had just started.



Jared led me down the aisle, sitting beside me in the pew behind Ryan and Claire.



Ryan leaned back, holding a folded piece of fabric against his eye. “Next time we get into it with Hel , I get dibs on Mr. Puff.”



Claire smiled, licking her split lip. “Your effort was impressive, even if that thing did hang you in the air by your ankle...and use you to open two doors...and make you scream like a girl.”



“I didn't scream like a girl,” Ryan protested.



“Maybe I was just hoping you would,” she grinned.



“Thanks,” he said, reaching out to touch her dirty face. His thumb gently grazed her cheek. “Again.”



Claire's eyes met his for a moment, and then she pul ed away. “Just get used to it. You don't need to thank me every time I save your stupid ass.”



Ryan nodded, and then relaxed against the pew.



I watched Claire for a moment, as she desperately attempted to feign indifference. I could recal that expression wel ; Jared used it many times in the beginning. Unfortunately for Claire, Ryan was far more confident than I was stubborn, and he was certain she would come around.



My eyes settled on Jared's beautiful, dirty face. His eyes were tired, but bright blue, excited and amazed that we had the book and our lives.



Seeing his expression only made it more real that he didn't expect any of us to make it to the church alive. A fact that, to me, was more unsettling than relief.



“Did you find anything?” Jared asked Bex.



Bex handed Jared the book. “Not yet. It keeps talking about the birth, the birth, over and over. How it disturbs the balance and how Hel wil stop it and prevail.”



Jared flipped through the pages, increasingly frustrated with each one. “Every prophecy has a loop hole. That is why the Nephilim were created, to try and stop the bloodline from King David to Jesus.” He slammed the book shut. “What did Father Francis say?”



Bex's eyes shifted toward me for just a moment, and then he shook his head, looking down. “He doesn't see anything, either. But we've only looked at it once. We could have missed something.”



“You know my vote,” Claire said.



“Which is...?” Ryan said. His eyes remained closed.



Kim stood and stretched. “Jared, I know you want to find something, but we had a deal.”



“I know,” Jared growled.



I touched his arm. “What is Kim talking about?”



Jared didn't look up from the pages. “The promise I made her. If she helped us get back the book, then we would go with her to Jerusalem...to return it to the Holy Sepulchre. To set her family free.”



I couldn't argue, but Jared had just begun to look it over. Kim was being uncharacteristical y impatient.



“What's the rush?” I asked.



Kim waited for Jared to answer, but when he stayed focused on the book, she sighed. “Shax holds my family responsible. He'l retaliate.”



Claire laughed once. “He'l do that, anyway, when you return it and it's out of his reach. Your family's held him off this long. You can wait a few hours, Kim.”



“You don't get it,” Kim said.



“Just let him read the damn book,” Ryan groaned.



Questions formed in my mind, and I swal owed, always hesitant to get the answer. No matter what she might say, at that point I couldn't afford not to understand anything. The days of keeping me in the dark were over. “What doesn't Claire get, Kim?”



After a short pause, Kim took a breath. “I'm not there,” she said in a low tone. I've always been twenty minutes away; Shax knew that. He could have sent an entire legion to my father's house, and within minutes I would be there, and they would have to leave. We need to get on a plane, return the book, and then I need to get home before Shax realizes what we've done. Right now he just thinks you're looking for a loophole to the prophecy.



He has no idea he's about to lose the book forever.”



Claire put her elbow on the back edge of the pew, and rested her head on her hand. “You don't think Jared finding a loophole to the prophecy is more concerning to Shax than losing the book?”