Chapter 10 #3
Rosso looked at the Precepts volume in Travis’s hands. “I’m not sure how you got that, but it belongs to the Sinistram.”
“It was given to me by one of the Keepers who wanted to stop what was going on,” Travis replied. “Thanks to him, we were able to avert a major disaster.”
“Just to be clear, they intended to bring about the Apocalypse, the End of Days,” Brent interjected. “They were all prepared and tired of waiting, so they thought they’d wipe the slate clean and start over.”
Russo’s discomfort was clear, despite his professional demeanor. “We’ve been made aware.” He looked suitably abashed. “I regret that you and your friends were endangered. We are in your debt, and I promise that we will investigate how the chapter hid its changes from us so completely.”
He cleared his throat. “But I must insist on the return of the Precepts.”
Travis hesitated, and Brent could guess his conflict.
They had only the reputation of the Swiss Guard to vouch for its integrity, but the tome clearly wasn’t safe with the Sinistram, and Brent couldn’t imagine that any of the other organizations they worked with could provide as high security as the guards.
After a moment, Travis placed the grimoire in the briefcase, which Brent saw was etched with protective sigils and runes.
“Keep it out of the wrong hands,” Travis said, with a pointed look at Russo.
Brent wondered whether the Occulatum or the Logonje had also gotten word to the Vatican. Despite their assistance with the grimoire, he struggled to imagine the Keepers ratting out their superiors to the Holy See.
In minutes, the Swiss Guard had loaded their prisoners aboard the helicopter.
“You have the thanks and blessing of the Holy Father,” Russo told them. “I hope our paths need not cross again.” He strode back to the helicopter, which lifted off as soon as he was aboard.
“I kinda wish they had shown up in those striped outfits with the puffy sleeves and the halberds,” Brent said as they watched the helicopter fly away.
“I was disappointed when I found out that they have modern weapons, even machine guns.” Travis looked toward the departing helicopter in the sky. “I don’t know how that’s escaped notice by video game creators.”
“People don’t worry much about sacrilege these days, but that might be a bit over the top,” Brent replied.
“Probably so.” Travis looked across the field as a man strode toward them. “Head’s up. Your CHARON person is heading our way.”
“He’s not my person,” Brent grumbled.
The guy looked like ex-military, with a muscular build. He wore a black shirt and pants clearly inspired by special ops. Brent knew him as Clark Davis, but he doubted that was the man’s real name.
“Lawson. You called. We came to avenge Shane. Remember that when you’re thinking of how much you hate us,” Davis said.
“Thanks for the assist, but you stood as much to lose as the rest of us,” Brent reminded him. “I gave you a heads-up on self-preservation, for CHARON and the whole city. Protecting civilians from supernatural threats was the mission, at least the last time you tried to recruit me.”
Davis looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth. “That hasn’t changed. Who were your buddies with the fancy helicopter? CIA? FBI?”
“Vatican.” Brent took satisfaction from the surprise in the other man’s eyes. “Swiss Guard.”
Davis covered his shock quickly. “Just remember you asked for help, and we came when you called. You could still join us.”
“Stopping the End of Days doesn’t count as a personal favor, since the alternative is exterminating mankind,” Brent observed. “You had some skin in the game.”
“Remember what I said,” Davis replied, choosing to ignore the barb.
He turned away and headed toward where he and the other CHARON agents had presumably left their black SUVs, disappearing into the shadows.
“Kinda makes me sorry we didn’t blow up any of the wells where he parked,” Travis said in an off-handed tone that made Brent chuckle despite Davis’s high-handedness.
“We definitely missed an opportunity,” Brent replied.
“Hey. The guy is a douchebag. He’s probably pissed that the Apocalypse was going to happen, and he had no clue, had to hear it from you. That’s gotta sting,” Travis said.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Brent looked out over the moon-lit field that their allies had now cleared of bodies and arcane evidence. The witches had made good on their promise to keep mundane authorities away, but Brent knew that wouldn’t last forever.
“We should get going. I don’t want to end up downtown answering the cops’ questions.” Brent knew the witches gave them as much magical cover as possible, but it would be hard to miss the explosions.
“Now that we’ve shut down the elders, do you think the old ones and the other supernatural trouble they stirred up will go away?” Brent asked.
Travis shrugged. “No way to know. Probably, although no idea how fast. Might take a while. If the old ones have been here all along, then they’ve come and gone more than once over the centuries. But it should stop the attacks on hunters, and that counts for a lot.”
When they got back to Brent’s house, Travis insisted that they do a thorough check to ensure there were no lurking threats.
“I’m officially proclaiming us on vacation for a couple of weeks,” Brent told him. “Someone else can save the world. We deserve a break, at least, for a while.”
Travis chuckled. “I’m not sure it works that way, but I’m all for the idea. Get some sleep.”
Brent lightly thumped the roof of the Crown Vic in goodbye and walked into the house. Thanks to timers, the lights were on, and it didn’t seem quite so long since he had been home.
“Glad you’re back,” Brent said when he saw Danny’s ghost sitting on the couch. He wondered how long his brother had waited for him to return. Brent poured himself some whiskey and sat down across from Danny.
“I’m glad you’re safe. It was a good thing you weren’t with us at the park. That was…pretty bad.”
Danny looked at him with concern.
“I’m a little sore, but nothing dangerous. Got lucky.”
Danny put his hand over his heart, and Brent could guess his meaning. I love you. Be safe. Don’t be in a hurry to catch up to me.
“The ghosts were badass. They ran interference and helped keep the bad guys from doing even more damage. I hope they can rest easier now.” Brent had questions for Donnelly or Dr. Peters if he ever had a chance to talk with the necromancers.
He was grateful for the help ghosts often lent them during battles, but he also hoped they weren’t harming the spirits by draining their energy or pulling them back into earthly conflicts.
Danny shot him the bratty smirk Brent missed so much. He knew Danny was telling him not to worry so much. Brent was surprised that, even after years separated by death, Danny still knew him better than anyone.
“I’ll try not to overthink it. Guess I never did have a poker face. The ghosts who showed up to help wanted to be there. Maybe they were working off unfinished business. Or maybe they just wanted to feel a little closer to the living.”
“We might have saved the world tonight. Or at least, a corner of it. I hope we can go back to busting bad witches, low-level demons, and poltergeists and leave the Apocalypse to those guys in the movies,” Brent told Danny.
Brent’s head throbbed, and now that the adrenaline high had worn off, he felt the fight in every joint and sinew. He didn’t expect the whiskey to do more than take the edge off, but even that was an improvement.
Danny mimed clasping his hands and swooning. Brent knew he meant “you’re still my hero.” Brent felt his cheeks heat in a way that had nothing to do with the whiskey. “Just doin’ my job.”
Brent knocked back the last of his drink. “Thanks for stopping in. Don’t be a stranger.”
Danny’s form wavered. He waved goodbye before his apparition vanished.
Brent set his glass aside and got up from his chair with a grunt as sore muscles protested every move.
He knew they had been lucky to escape with so few injuries and win their fight without losing anyone on their side.
Still, there had been moments when it had been by the skin of their teeth, and he knew it could easily have gone wrong so many times.
We survived. Lived to fight another day. That’s as good as it gets. I’m going to take the win and try to sleep it off.