I nod my head, the pressure welling up again as I think about Brody West and all the terrible crimes he has committed against my family, his own family, and all of humanity. “He must die,” I say under my breath, and the pressure in my head eases once again.
Stonehenge
Brody breathes in the predawn mist with satisfaction. The very air tingles with latent magical activity. This was once a connection between worlds, a transport hub of vast capacity to all the realms upon the spiritual plane. At least, it was a millennia ago.
By the time Brody was born, Stonehenge only housed one such portal to and from the realm of Greystone. A place of perpetual twilight, Greystone was once inhabited by the great race of vampires known as the Breed. He remembers his friend Charlotte, a vampire who had been introduced to him by Oliver James.
Memories of his loved ones come flooding into his mind. Tears well in his eyes for a moment, but he wipes them away, choosing not to remember the people lost to him in this war. He has more important matters to attend at the moment, and his nostalgia will have to wait. Oliver, Tom, Charlotte, his beautiful Sophia and Sadie, Cole, and the others are gone. Despite all his power as one of the Sons of Anarchy, there is no way to bring them back and no possibility of returning to days gone by when they fought this war together.
He feels very much alone. Brody has his grandchildren, of course, but they hardly know him and have no real understanding of the greater conflict raging around them, a conflict that spans thousands of years. A conflict he fears he will not be able to win. After all, the chief protagonist in this battle between Descendants and the Fallen is Lucifer himself, and Brody has enough understanding of God’s word to know this archenemy of the Lord will not be defeated by anyone except Jesus Christ.
Still, he feels little choice but to go on fighting. Perhaps, he might only save the lives of his precious grandchildren. Perhaps, and he hates to consider it, he will not even be able to save them. All he can do is try.
“Are you all right?” Asha says, pulling him from wistful thoughts.
Brody smiles, raking a sleeve across his cheek, hoping the woman hasn’t seen his tears, but knowing she probably has. “Yes, of course.” He turns to look at the stones set in their familiar ring. “This is still a place of power.”
“Yes,” she agrees, “and a place of memories?”
Brody blushes. “Yes.”
Asha places a hand upon Brody’s arm. “We have all lost people in this conflict. There is no shame in keeping their memories alive in our hearts.”
For a moment, he thinks he might almost permit himself a few more tears. Then, he relents, nodding to the woman. “But the present matter is more pressing, and I have many questions for you and your friend.”
The others survey the ruin, evidently content to let Brody conduct this interview with the two individuals who arrived just in time to help them escape. Tensions are a bit more relaxed at the knowledge they are far from London and the horde of creatures festering there. These may be strangers to them, but at least they appear to be on the same side.
Brody wastes no time. “Clearly, you are Descendants, so I’ll not bother with asking your clans,” he says. “What I really want to know is where you came from and how did you know to come and help us back in London?”
“We currently dwell with many others of our kind upon the spiritual plane,” Asha says.
“But the realms of the spiritual plane were all destroyed many years ago,” Brody interjects. “I was there when it happened. There’s nothing left.”
“There was nothing left,” Isaac says, interrupting. “We built Haven after.”
“Isaac speaks truth,” Asha confirms. “The spiritual plane is inhabited once again, if not to the vast degree it was before. Haven is a construct city formed from that which was left after the great calamity you speak of. Many thousands of Descendants now call Haven their home, including Isaac and myself.”
“Haven,” Brody says to himself.
“Sounds a little like Heaven,” Cassie observes.
Brody grins. “Well, I had no idea there were so many of us left, and I certainly never guessed that another city had been constructed upon the spiritual plane. I feel like I’ve missed so much.”
“You have,” Isaac says bluntly.
Asha is more gentle with the subject. “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to you all these years. Descendants looked for leadership after the destruction of our worlds. Your influence was well-known to most of us, but after everything happened you just seemed to have abandoned us.”
Brody clears his throat. “I can assure you I did not abandon anyone,” he says. “After I killed Adolf Hitler—the real Adolf—I followed his wife through a portal. She was carrying this plague he created and she was also carrying Adolf’s child.”
Cassie gasps.
“Go on,” Asha says.
“The portal, as it turns out, was a time-stop.”
“A what?” Garth asks.
“A portal that holds you in suspension,” Isaac interjects. “You aren’t deposited directly at your destination. The portal holds you. You barely age while you’re within it. Amazing construct, if you ask me.”
“We didn’t,” Asha says, scolding her young companion.
“It’s alright,” Brody says. “You’re correct, Isaac.”
Isaac’s face brightens in triumph.
“Adolf’s wife and child and myself were kept in suspended animation within the portal until the turn of the millennium,” Brody explains. “When the woman emerged, she was near to be delivered of her child. I followed her.”
“Did you kill her?” Cassie asks.
“I did not,” Brody assures her. “However, due to complications, she did not survive long after giving birth. Her son, however, did. I watched him and even considered ending his life, but I couldn’t do it.”
“Who was the child?” Holly asks.
Brody looks at Cassie. “I think, perhaps, you already know.”
“Jonathan,” Cassie says quietly.
“Jonathan,” Brody confirms. “And he was also carrying this plague in his blood, as we now know.”
They stand together silently for a moment, each considering the implications of Brody’s action, or rather inaction.
“If it’s any consolation, Grandfather,” Cassie says, “I’m glad you didn’t destroy Jonathan.”
“But so many have died,” Isaac says.
“It wasn’t Jonathan’s fault,” Holly says. “He couldn’t help his own birth, and he didn’t know the plague was in his blood. For that matter, he wasn’t the one to start this. He was viciously attacked by another boy.”
Brody returns her a wan smile. “Well, it’s too late now.”
“Actually, I’m more concerned with the damage he might still do,” Asha says.
“What do you mean?” Cassie asks.
“He’s with James Solomon,” Isaac says.
“And that is?” Brody asks.
“Only the head of the Syndicate,” Isaac says, “and one of the most powerful Superomancers left alive.”
“He is the one who attacked you in the streets of London,” Asha adds.
Eyes widening, Brody responds quickly. “That man was no man at all. He isn’t a Descendant, he’s one of the Fallen.”
Asha and Isaac look at one another, surprised by his statement.
Brody continues, nodding in his eagerness to convey this truth. “I hit this James Solomon with a brutal lightning attack. He didn’t shield himself, or divert the energy. He just stood there and took it right in the chest without blinking.”
Asha and Isaac give each other looks of concern.
“No mortal could take that kind of abuse upon their body,” Brody says. “Not even the most powerful Superomancer living.”
“Which is probably you,” Isaac says. “That’s why we need your help.”
“I don’t understand,” Brody replies, looking at them with a curious expression.
“James
Solomon, whether an angel or mortal, has been trying to breach the wards upon Haven for some time,” Asha says. “He controls a great many of the Breed with the aid of his vampire associate, Gregor Malakov. Many years now, his army has attempted invasion. So far, we have repelled them, but our ability to maintain these powerful wards will not last against Solomon’s continued attacks.”
“And its imperative that we defend against him, if he really is one of the Fallen,” Isaac adds.
“So, where do I come into this equation?” Brody asks. “I’m incapable of repelling one of the Fallen. Their power is far beyond any mortal’s.”
“We have many fine Superomancers to help you, Brody,” Asha says. “And you have something none of us does.”
“Malak-esh,” Brody says, understanding dawning upon his face. “You want me to use Malak-esh to fortify your wards.”
“What better way to defend against one of the Fallen than with the only weapon which is able to defeat them?” Asha says. “If Solomon breaks through our wards, he will no doubt send forth not only Malakov’s Breed army but these new abominations as well. He means to destroy Haven.”
“But why?” Holly asks.
Asha glances at her, but remains focused upon Brody for her explanation. “When we believed him only to be another ambitious Descendant, gathering power for himself in the world, his motives meant more. However, if he is one of the Fallen—”
“His motive might be nothing more than pure malevolence,” Brody says, finishing her thought. “I see your point.”
He looks at his grandchildren and Holly. “I have to help them,” he says. “Descendants are my people.”
“Our people,” Garth adds to everyone’s surprise. “And, if one sword can make these wards stronger then, surely, two would be added value to whatever you intend to do.”
Brody smiles at him. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Then we should return to Haven posthaste,” Isaac says, eager to be away from the mortal plane.
“If you open a portal here, it might be used by Solomon to jump through after us with his army,” Brody says.
“Oh, we aren’t returning from here,” Isaac says.
“It is impossible for us to return to Haven from any location save one,” Asha explains.
“Then you must have an established portal somewhere,” Brody surmises. “Where is it?”
“At a warded location,” Asha replies. “Isaac will transport us. The spell to go through will require both he and I to be present.”
“Then I suggest we waste no more time,” Brody says, preparing to be whisked away to the place where he will find what wonders his fellow Descendants have conjured from the ruins of those once great realms now destroyed.
Cassie interrupts before Isaac raises his hand to perform the gesture that will transport them. “What about Jonathan?”
All eyes fall upon the teenage girl in their midst.
“Surely, Grandfather, you haven’t forgotten about why we went back to London,” she says, entreating him. “You tracked Jonathan to that building, and we were about to rescue him when that angel attacked us.”
“Cassie—” he begins, trying to explain the circumstances.
“He’s still there,” she implores. “We can’t just leave him.”
“Cassie,” Asha says, attempting to reason with her. “Jonathan is with James Solomon.”
“How do you know that?” she asks in an accusing tone. “How do you know anything about any of us?”
“We’ve been watching you all from beyond the veil,” Isaac says. “We’ve seen Jonathan.”
“Then why not rescue him while we have the chance?” she pleads.
“Because, at the moment, we don’t have that chance,” Brody says, drawing everyone’s attention. “If I’m not mistaken, it must be this James Solomon, one of the Fallen, who spirited Jonathan away from that cell inside the GCHQ building in Gloucestershire before we could get to him there. That means he had a purpose in taking him, and we don’t yet know what that is. We cannot simply run headlong into a battle with an angel and expect to save him.”
“But you have Malak-esh, and so does Garth,” Cassie argues. “Use them to destroy the angel.”
“It’s just not that simple,” Brody says. “We need to regroup and come up with a viable plan. It sounds like Asha and Isaac have more information on this James Solomon persona the angel is using. We should take the time to learn more about him before we charge in foolishly. After all, the goal is to rescue Jonathan, not get him or us killed in the process through haste.”
Hot tears run down Cassie’s cheeks, flowing as much from anger and frustration as sorrow at Jonathan’s loss. She sighs after a moment, resigning herself to the circumstances as they stand. “But you do still intend to rescue him?”
Brody nods. “We will do our best, Cassie. I can promise you that.”
“We should get to Haven as soon as possible,” Isaac says, holding Asha’s gaze with a concerned look.
“So, where is this portal we have to use?” Garth asks.
“We required providing unique characteristics—the ability to focus energy in an efficient way,” Isaac explains.
Garth gives him a curious look. “So, we’re going where?”
With a grin, Isaac says, “Next stop, Paris.”
Vampires
It is not James Solomon who guides me to the next site I am meant to tour. Gregor Malakov, for all intents and purposes a Russian soldier, directs our path onto what appears to be a freight elevator, descending into the bowels of the Earth. James Solomon said he intends for me to train with Gregor and his men. If I am to tackle the problem of Brody West, then I must learn how to use my abilities more efficiently. According to Solomon, Malakov is just the man for the job.
The Russian vampire does not speak to me on the way down. He did not speak to me during the car ride to this location. Curious that a vampire would be riding in a Mercedes Benz driven by a hired man, but that’s exactly what it was. No portals like James Solomon might conjure. Just good old fashioned mortal transportation like every other nobody on the planet.
To tell the truth, it is a little disappointing. I was expecting more from someone working for a powerful man like James Solomon, not to mention the fact that Malakov is a vampire—beings I have always considered to be myths. These days, in a Twilight pop-culture, I consider asking the Russian if he sparkles in the sunlight. But that’s probably a bad idea. He doesn’t appear to have the temperament for jokes about his blood sucking nature.
I have many questions on my mind, but most of them don’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m currently riding down an elevator with a vampire. I’m thinking about what Solomon has already told me, like that my father was Adolf Hitler. That freaks me out because every time I’ve ever heard the name it has conjured in my mind images of a wildly gesticulating man shouting in German to his Nazi followers. I think about a man with a ridiculous square mustache. I think about a man who wanted to eradicate the Jewish people, establish a master Aryan race, and take over the world.
However, according to James Solomon, this was not the person my father was. I mean he must have looked very similar, if the Hitler from the news reels was a surgically altered doppelganger. However, the man people associate with that name was also meant to discredit the Descendant leader who was my father. This is what James Solomon has revealed to me. My real father was set up by his enemies. He was set up by Brody West.
A question occurs to me then.
“Why hasn’t James Solomon killed Brody West by now?” I ask the vampire standing in the elevator beside me.
He doesn’t answer at first, but I’m tired of the games people play, so I ask him again.
He gives me a sidelong glance. Gregor is annoyed by my inquiry. Maybe he’s even annoyed enough to actually speak to me. After all, in a way, maybe I’ve insulted Solomon by the question. I’ve definitely inferred that he should have destroyed West already, if he could destr
oy West. I’m really hoping for a little team spirit on Malakov’s part, at least enough to pry his mouth open long enough to tell me off.
“West is a powerful Descendant,” he says finally.
“I thought Solomon was pretty powerful, too,” I reply. “And what about you? You’ve got all these vampires working for you, right? Some sort of army?”
“You don’t always win a battle with numbers,” he says. “And Solomon is extremely powerful. Much more than you or I.”
There it is—go team! He doesn’t like the implication that West is too powerful for his master. But, hey, at least he’s talking now. Maybe he’ll give me insights I didn’t get from Solomon.
“Like I said, why hasn’t Solomon finished him off then?”
Malakov exhales heavily through flaring nostrils. “Brody West is one of the most powerful Superomancers alive,” Gregor says. “Vampires are not Superomancers. We are strong and fast—good hunters. We don’t possess the kind of abilities West does.”
“What kinds of abilities?” I ask.
“West is the spawn of Southresh,” Gregor says.
“What exactly does that mean?”
“Southresh’s elemental power is fire,” Gregor continues. “West could burn you to ash.”
I nod my head, feeling a few beads of sweat break out on my upper lip. “I guess that’s pretty good.”
Gregor barks a little laugh. “Good, he says.” He garbles a curse in Russian under his breath. I have no idea what he’s just said, but it probably means he thinks I’m an idiot.
Now he faces me. “He can shape-shift, become different kinds of animals great and small. He can teleport. He can conjure all manner of energy attacks and he can shield himself, as well. Those are just a few that come to mind, child. I’m sure there are others, and those are not even his greatest advantage.”
“Which is?”
“West possesses an unparalleled weapon—a sword with the power to thwart any kind of energy attack.”
I consider all he has told me for a moment. Obviously, I don’t have the kind of power West does. It doesn’t sound like I could even touch him without being turned into a smoking cinder.
“What if someone stole the sword? Would he be vulnerable to someone using it against him?” I ask.
“No,” he says flatly.
I wait a moment for more information but he doesn’t offer it. “Why wouldn’t he be vulnerable?” I ask, feeling a bit exasperated. Killing Brody West can’t be impossible, can it?