James Rollins - Blood Infernal

Perhaps believing he was granting her dying wish, Rhun released her neck, taking her hand and showing her where best to apply pressure. Only then did he pull the gospel out of her backpack and free it from its case. He laid the book open in front of her in the snow, then quickly reapplied pressure to her neck, whispering a prayer over her.

Erin turned her head until the edge of the cover touched her cheek. Most of the pages were empty, still waiting to be filled with the words that Christ had written long ago. Bernard had once told her that the Blood Gospel might contain the key to unleashing the divinity within each person, knowledge locked in those blank pages. If so, because of her, the world would never know it.

Rhun had opened the book to the page that held the last lines of prophecies, perhaps hoping she would find extra meaning there. But those words glowed golden and bright, as if mocking her for her failure.

With one trembling fingertip, she turned that page of prophecy and laid her bloody hand on the next blank page. She felt that paper grow warmer under her palm, its surface strangely smoother.

Rhun gasped as golden words appeared under her fingers, inscribing across the paper as if being freshly written, line by line, flowing down the page.

Rhun turned that page for her, then another.

More words, more lines.

Rhun flipped through rapidly. “The entire book is full,” he said with awe.

Erin studied the page that was still open, realizing she could not read the words. The letters looked Enochian — the language developed by John Dee to talk to the angels.

Erin closed her eyes, struggling to understand why Christ chose to write the rest of the gospel in Enochian, when the previous prophecies had been written in Greek, the language of man. Why write the rest in the language of angels? Only one answer made sense. Perhaps these new words — perhaps the entire gospel — were not meant for mankind, but for the angels.

No, not angels , she realized opening her eyes. Angel… one angel .

No wonder the pages only appeared now, in this valley.

She turned her face toward the only angel present.

Lucifer sat upon his dark throne, staring straight at her.

Erin clutched Rhun’s knee with her fingers. He leaned closer.

“I… I know,” she croaked softly. “I know what I must do.”

Jordan reseated the emerald stone in its proper place. As the gem touched the granite chalice, the column of fire on this side of the pyramid flared brighter. The ice reformed over the lake, sealing the portal between worlds. Several creatures were caught halfway between this plane and the other, their bodies frozen and contorted in the ice.

But his efforts did nothing for the hundreds that had already escaped.

Christian and Sophia were still under siege by a mass of them, unable to make headway across the lake to reach Lucifer. Elizabeth held her position by the blue stone, bloodied but still defending her post. Across the lake, Rhun knelt beside Erin, who still lived, although the lake of red blood that surrounded her told him that she did not have much longer. Jordan ached to rush to her side, to take her in his arms one last time.

But even if he could have broken free of his emerald prison, another adversary seemed determined to stop him.

As Jordan turned his back to the granite pillar, Legion stalked down from the cliffs toward him. He was surrounded by a shadow of abominations, a cloak of living flesh. Jordan used his last rounds to fire at the demon, but each time he shot, one of those shadows leaped up and threw itself in the way, blocking his slug with its twisted body.

Out of ammunition, Jordan held his KA-BAR dagger in one hand. He dropped his pistol and bent down to collect the monk’s abandoned sword, glad it had fallen inside the green sphere of light.

“Come on!” Jordan shouted over the tide of the demon’s screaming beasts. “Come and get me.”

Black eyes locked on to Jordan’s. “Do not be in such a hurry to die, Warrior of Man, I will be there soon enough.”

Good… I’m ready for you this time .

Jordan burned with a golden rage, one ignited by both his angelic blood and his lust for revenge. As Legion approached, Jordan lifted the stolen sword — a long curved blade with a green piece of jade set in its pommel. Jordan set his legs in a wide stance and prepared to meet the demon.

Legion also carried a sword, something with a poisonous-looking black blade, shining like a long sliver of obsidian. It was not of this world, probably carried here and gifted to the demon by one of his horde.

Jordan motioned with the tip of his own weapon. “Just the two of us,” he urged. “Unless you fear one man?”

“While you are more than a mere mortal,” Legion answered, “I will not be caught off guard again. So yes, let us end this.”

Sword held high, Legion shed his monsters and entered the emerald sphere. Without preamble, Legion thrust his sword at Jordan, forcing a quick parry that numbed Jordan to the elbow. Legion struck again and again, slowly forcing Jordan toward the edge of the sphere.

If that blade doesn’t kill me, the green fire will .

A quick flurry of blows followed. Steel rang against black crystal. Legion darted back and forth through the barrier, using the fiery veil as his own personal shield, knowing Jordan could not follow.

A quick thrust finally penetrated Jordan’s guard and sliced across his side. Hot red blood drenched his shirt. Another series of attacks ended with Legion’s blade cutting deep into his upper arm. Legion retreated through the barrier, smiling back at him.

Jordan realized a hard truth.

Legion is toying with me.

Jordan lurched away, dropping his dagger and hugging an arm around his wounded side, while still keeping his sword up.

Legion stalked forward, clearly ready to finish him.

As soon as the demon pierced the barrier’s edge, Jordan lunged forward, hoping that the flames of the veil might have blinded the demon for a fraction of a second. As Legion’s leg stepped through, Jordan kicked out and smashed his steel crampons into the demon’s knee. The limb gave way with a crack. As Legion pitched to the side, Jordan grabbed the demon’s sword arm, rolled Legion under him, and rode the black body to the ground.Once they struck, Jordan used the momentum to jam his sword into the soft belly, thrusting up toward that quiet heart. Legion screamed and threw him off with the force of a bull’s kick. Jordan went flying, rolling across the snow. All that saved him from striking the fiery barrier was the granite pillar. He hit it broadside, hard enough to break ribs.

Legion was already on his feet. The demon dropped his own sword into the snow and unsheathed the monk’s blade from his black belly and came at Jordan, the weapon raised high. Jordan lunged away, going for the dagger he had abandoned. Only too late did he realize his mistake.

Legion stepped past him and brought the sword down, slamming the jade-encrusted pommel onto the green diamond. The gem shattered beneath it, as did the granite chalice underneath. The column of green fire extinguished, blown out like a snuffed candle.

Again the lake exploded along this bank. The entire surface buckled upward as if punched from below. Larger beasts rose to the surface, things still barely seen: the roll of an immense black eye, a flurry of black tentacles. Jordan sensed these creatures were older and darker than the minor demons loosed so far.

Beyond that monstrous upwelling, Lucifer looked down from his throne, his face unreadable. The cone of white light still held the dark angel trapped, but for how long? That purity of whiteness now ran with streaks of shadows, reflecting the damage done to his prison.