Chapter Ten #2
They approached the hidden entrance to the lair, and Ronen froze. The ornate confessional that concealed the doorway stood ajar, the wood splintered around the lock.
“Stay alert,” Geordie whispered. “Could be a trap.”
Ronen barely heard him, the thundering of his pulse drowning out everything but the desperate need to find Tanner. He descended the spiral staircase in great bounds, landing with a thunk at the bottom. The corridor ahead was dark, the usual magical lights extinguished.
As he feared, the lead doors that were the most solid defense against evil were open, unprotected. No sentinels were present, and the silence only made the surroundings eerier.
He couldn’t risk projecting strategy to Geordie, not when Victor might be listening in, so he tapped Geordie’s arm. Ronen pointed to the corridor that led to the guest room. Geordie nodded in response.
They moved cautiously, Ronen straining to hear any sound—breathing, movement, anything that would tell him Tanner was alive. When they reached their destination, Ronen’s breath hitched. The door to the chamber was cracked open, a thin slice of light cutting across the darkened hallway.
Ronen pushed the barrier open with one massive stone hand, his heart freezing at the sight before him. Ezekiel lay crumpled in the corner, blood seeping from a wound at his temple. The computers Tanner had been working on were smashed, screens shattered and sparking. And in the center of the room…
Victor stood with his back to them, his stone-like form unmistakable even from behind.
But he wasn’t alone. A woman in a tailored suit stood beside him.
Ronen bared his fangs. Marianne Walker. Her posture was rigid and unnatural.
Between them, slumped in a chair with his head lolling forward, was Tanner.
“No!” The roar tore from Ronen's throat before he could stop himself, the sound reverberating off the stone walls.
Victor turned slowly, a cruel smile twisting his features.
“Ah, the devoted mate returns. Earlier than expected, I must admit.” He placed a clawed hand on Tanner’s shoulder, his talons digging into the fabric of Tanner’s shirt.
"Your precious Nephilim put up quite a fight. Quite impressive for someone so...” He lifted one eyebrow. “Fragile."
Ronen narrowed his eyes, his lips curling back in a snarl. “Get the fuck away from him, you piece of useless filth!”
Victor’s claws tightened on Tanner's shoulder, drawing pinpricks of blood through the fabric. The sight made Ronen's vision blur with fury. With his head hung forward, Tanner’s dark hair obscured his face. But the shallow rise and fall of his chest confirmed he was still alive.
“I've waited centuries for this moment,” Victor’s voice dripped with contempt. “Do you have any idea how it feels to watch others find their mates while you’re passed over? To be told your time would come if you just kept serving faithfully?” He spat the last word as if it were poison.
Geordie stepped forward, his massive stone form blocking the doorway. “You betrayed us all, Victor. Every oath you took, every battle we fought together. It meant nothing to you!”
Marianne Walker remained unnaturally still beside Victor, her eyes glassy and vacant. The demonic possession was visible in the unnatural orange glow of her eyes, the way she held herself too rigidly. Victor had control over her, but how much remained of the human woman was impossible to tell.
“You don't understand what true betrayal feels like,” Victor growled, his talons digging deeper into Tanner's shoulder. “To be denied what others receive so freely. To watch as newcomers like you are gifted mates while I’ve waited my turn.” He grunted. “It’s all bullshit!”
Ronen took a measured step forward, calculating the distance between himself and Victor. If he lunged now, Victor might harm Tanner before he could reach them. He needed to keep the traitor talking while he positioned himself better.
“So you decided to help demons corrupt Nephilim instead?” Ronen kept his voice low, controlled despite the anger boiling inside him. “You’re pathetic.”
Victor barked out a laugh. “Pathetic?” The sound was harsh and grating. “While you’ve been playing the dutiful soldier, I’ve discovered what the rogues truly needed. Not holy relics, but holy vessels.”
He traced a line down Tanner’s cheek with one talon. “The Nephilim themselves are far more valuable. A corrupted Nephilim mated to a shadow gargoyle creates the perfect warrior—one with angelic power twisted to our purpose.”
Ronen’s muscles coiled tighter. Every instinct screamed at him to attack, to tear Victor limb from limb. But Tanner’s vulnerable form kept him fixed in place. His eyes darted to Ezekiel, the healer stirring slightly. Was he under a dark spell? Or only knocked out?
“Our purpose?” Geordie spat. “You speak as if you’re one of them.”
Victor’s eyes widened with a flash of red.
“I've been one of them for longer than you know. The shadow transformation was…” He sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.
“Liberating.” His stone skin darkened, veins filled with what looked like black oil running through the granite.
"When I was approached by the rogues, they offered what Michael and the Most High had denied me. Recognition of my worth.” His mouth lifted in a sickening smile.
“And a dark angel at my side to soothe me when I need respite, one I can breed as often as I choose.”
Ronen’s gaze darted between Victor and Tanner, calculating the distance, the timing needed. His mate’s shallow breathing was the only thing keeping him from charging forward recklessly.
“And what about all the gargoyles who died because of your betrayal?” Geordie spat out, shifting his weight forward incrementally. “Our brothers and sisters who trusted you?”
Victor shrugged, the motion unnaturally fluid for his stone form.
“Casualties of war. Their sacrifice will be remembered when we reshape this world.” He glanced down at Tanner with an expression that mingled contempt with desire.
“But perhaps the greatest victory is claiming what was meant to be yours, Ronen.”
Unbridled rage exploded in Ronen's chest. He launched himself forward with a roar that shook the stone walls, his massive wings unfurling in the confined space. Victor seemed to have anticipated the attack, shoving Tanner’s limp form aside as he met Ronen’s charge.
Their stone bodies collided with a thunderous crack, the impact sending tremors through the floor. Ronen dug his claws into Victor’s shoulders, seeking purchase as they both crashed into the far wall. Chunks of granite flew as they grappled, their wings battering against furniture and walls.
“You’re too late,” Victor snarled, his breath hot against Ronen’s face. “The corruption has already begun.”
Ronen slammed his forehead into Victor’s skull with a sickening crack. The traitor’s head snapped back, but his laughter rang out, manic and unhinged. Ronen drove his knee into Victor’s gut, using the momentum to slam him against the stone wall again.
“You think you’ve won?” Victor hissed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “This was always the plan. While you and your pathetic Slayers waste time at the facility, the real ritual is happening right here.”
“Geordie!” Ronen shouted, still grappling with Victor. “Get to Tanner!”
Marianne Walker moved with unnatural speed, her body jerking like a marionette as she positioned herself between Geordie and Tanner. Her eyes had gone completely black, no whites visible at all.
Geordie charged at Marianne, but she raised her hand, a pulse of dark energy erupting from her palm that knocked the gargoyle backward. Geordie crashed into the opposite wall, stone cracking under the impact.
“You see?” Victor wheezed through Ronen’s grip. “She’s more than possessed. The demons have granted her power beyond your imagination.”
Ronen slammed Victor against the wall again, his claws digging deeper into the traitor's shoulders. “I don’t give a fuck what power she has. You won’t touch him.”
Victor’s laughter turned to a gurgle as Ronen’s claws found his throat. “The ritual has already started. Can’t you feel it? Your mate’s essence being corrupted?”
Panic surged through Ronen as he glanced toward Tanner.
His mate’s body trembled, a faint, dark glow pulsing beneath his skin.
Ronen’s momentary distraction was all Victor needed.
He twisted violently, breaking Ronen’s grip and delivering a crushing blow to Ronen’s chest that sent him staggering backward.
“You’re too late!” Victor roared, his voice distorting with demonic influence. “Watch as your precious mate becomes our first true weapon!”
Ronen regained his footing, the stone floor cracking beneath his claws.
Tanner's body convulsed in the chair, his back arching unnaturally as darkness pulsed beneath his skin. Each pulse sent a corresponding wave of agony through Ronen’s chest—their bond transmitting Tanner’s suffering directly to him.
“Tanner!” Ronen lunged forward, only to be intercepted by Marianne Walker, her body contorting at impossible angles as she blocked his path.
“The vessel is transforming,” she hissed, her voice a chorus of multiple tones speaking in unison. “Already his angelic essence is being consumed by darkness.”
Victor moved to stand beside her, his crimson eyes gleaming with triumph. “And once the transformation is complete, I will claim him. The bond between you will be severed forever.”
Ronen’s agonizing howl shook the very foundations of the lair. He charged forward, his massive stone form barreling toward Victor and Marianne. The possessed woman raised her hands again, dark energy crackling between her fingers, but Geordie lunged from the side, tackling her to the ground.
“Go!” Geordie shouted, wrestling with the crazed woman. “I’ve got her!”