Wesley Snipes - Talon of God

“I can do this,” she said firmly. “I’m supposed to do this. I want to do this.” She glared at Talon. “Teach me.”

The SEE warrior sighed and looked at the angel, who laughed. “The willing serve best,” Akarra said, smiling at Lauryn. “Do as you feel is right, and keep your sword. You’ve earned it… and I don’t think I’d be able to wrestle it from you before I have to go.”

Lauryn’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

“We must,” Akarra said. “This is the mortal world, the realm of human choice. We have no more place here than the demons we chased out. Now that they are gone, we must go as well, but I have a feeling that we will meet again, Lauryn Jefferson. Our enemy is far from defeated. If you choose to walk this path, you will be needed again.”

“Good,” Lauryn said, clutching her sword to her chest. “It’s nice to be needed.” Otherwise, what was the point?

She left that last part unspoken, but she had the distinct feeling the angel heard it anyway as he vanished into the morning sunlight. “Then fight well, little doctor,” he said, his voice little more than an echo. “Until we meet again.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Lauryn alone next to Talon in the freezing water. “So,” she said, smiling up at him. “How do we do this?”

Talon frowned, his face troubled, but before he could give whatever dire answer he was obviously considering, Lauryn was tackled off her feet into the water as her brother, father, Will, and at least a dozen others rushed in to hug her.

On the other side of the barrier, on the threshold of death that connects this world to the world beyond, inside the grand observation hall at the heart of the now retreating Castle Delusion, the creature who’d worn Christopher St. Luke’s face for the last decade roared with rage, kicking the table of ornate delicacies that was supposed to have been his victory banquet across the rough stone floor. When the skeletal slaves scurried in to clean up the spilled plates of human hearts and sacrificial offal, he kicked them as well, sending them screaming back into the dark corners of the fortress.

“No!” he snarled at the spilled blood on the floor. “This was not how it was supposed to end! You told me I would win! ”

I did , the blood replied, the words vibrating through the connection it created from this half world of death to the deeper hells below. But I only said as much because I believed your reports of your own cleverness. How was I to know you were such a bald-faced liar?

“It matters not,” St. Luke spat back, rubbing his mortal shell’s bullet-riddled chest. “Chicago was only one city. My reach spans the globe. I’ll do it again.” And this time, he’d do it better. This time, he’d leave nothing to chance. “Besides, it wasn’t a total loss. It was only for a few minutes, but I still breached the barrier and brought our fortress into the mortal realm. That’s better than any demon’s done in a thousand years!”

It is , the voice in the blood agreed. And that is why you have not been dragged back to hell to answer for this failure.

“Then send me back so I can build on it,” St. Luke snapped.

The voice in the blood sighed. About that. I’m afraid you’ve been a little rough on the meat puppet we gave you to use. Now that you’ve dragged it with you into death, it’ll take a great deal of effort to send you back.

“I didn’t drag it into death! That little SEE groupie pushed me!”

Same difference , the blood said idly. I’ll still have to send you back. That’s hard enough when your meat sack’s alive. Yours is dead. Do you know how much blood that takes? How much sacrifice? How do I’ll know I’ll get my investment back?

“Because I’m the one with the power,” St. Luke reminded him. “You might be a king in hell, but in the mortal world, you’re just another demon. I, on the other hand, am one of the richest men in the world with connections all over the globe.” His face split in a grin. “You can’t afford to let me die.”

That was the truth, and they both knew it.

Very well , the blood rumbled. But this is your final chance. Fail us again, and the next time you die, Zariel, we’ll leave you in that mortal shell to rot.

“There won’t be a next time,” the demon Zariel promised, pulling St. Luke’s corpse tight around him like a suit. “Now send me back.” I’ve got unfinished business to take care of.

The blood on the floor rippled with a long-suffering sigh, and then pain grabbed Zariel like a vise, squeezing him into a stabbing point as the dark magic forced him—and what was left of St. Luke—through the barrier of death and back once more into the world of the living.

The authors would like to thank everyone that assisted in making Talon of God a reality. Special thanks go out to John Bellamy, Murphy Batiste, Peter McGuigan and Kirsten Neuhaus of Foundry Media, David Pomerico and Rachel Aaron. Your unwavering faith and dedication to this project helped turn an idea into a reality. To our Gurus, Grand Masters, Pastors, Preachers and Spiritual Guides who took time to polish these “rough stones” into diamonds. Additional thanks goes out to the team at HarperCollins—Priyanka Krishnan, Angela Craft, Shawn Nicholls, Anwesha Basu, Pamela Jaffee, and Jeanne Reina—who helped to make this novel the very best it could be. And lastly, we want to thank our Parents, Elders and Ancestors for the “spark” and everyone who reads and enjoys this work. Your support makes everything possible.

With over seventy films to his acting credit and eighteen as a producer, DR. WESLEY SNIPEShas a unique diversity that has made him one of the most beloved and sought out talents for the past thirty years. In addition to his presence in Hollywood, he is also an entrepreneur, including the innovative “Project Action Star,” a social media and television project which is forthcoming. A skilled practitioner of numerous martial arts disciplines, he has taken the physical expertise he honed choreographing fights scenes in movies like Blade and his vivid imagination to write the action-packed Talon of God , his first novel.

Hailing from Chicago, RAY NORMANreceived an Engineering Degree from the University of Illinois and a Law Degree from Southern Illinois University. He’s worked as an attorney recruiter and corporate headhunter, as well as ghostwritten books on health, nutrition, and spiritual self-help. In addition, he’s a script writer, and including an original stage play, And You Thought Your Family Was Crazy . In his spare time, Norman enjoys reading, working out, watching movies, and dining at fine restaurants. In the near future he plans on getting his private pilot’s license. Talon of God is his first novel.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

TALON OF GOD. Copyright © 2016 by Maandi House, Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers.