Faith
Author: Darkness. Address: darknessdescending2000@yahoo.co.uk
Author's Note: Once again, I don't own the Malus Codicium, it was created by sci-fi author Dan Abnett (who rocks!), now that that's cleared up, don't sue me!
Vienna International Airport
Inquisitor Zhuge Liang walked calmly along the throngs of people as he awaited the arrival of his comrades in arms for this particular assignment.
He was forty-nine years of age and came from the extreme West of China, from a town called Karamay. He had light blue eyes, a compassionate face, neat black hair and a small beard growing on his chin. He was tall, quite thin and walked with a slight limp in his left leg. He wore a very deep purple shirt, dark green chinos, brown shoes and a long grey trench coat.
As he walked along through the crowds to the cargo delivery area, he listened in on what some of the masses were thinking.
-I hope he likes the presents that I brought him. -
-I wonder how much a taxi to Feldbach will cost? -
-Cybil will sure be surprised I came home a few days early. -
-I hope Karl doesn't find out I cheated on him. -
-Where are my damn keys? -
-Hello Zhuge. -
Liang turned to face the pleasant face of Inquisitor Edmund Burke.
Burke was English, his accent betraying his aristocratic upbringing. He was in his late thirties, had piercing ice-blue eyes, neat brown hair, a very proper looking moustache, pale skin and an aristocratic nose. He was barely an inch taller than Zhuge. He wore a brown business suit with a white shirt and brown tie and carried a very official looking black leather bound briefcase in one hand while his long raincoat rested on the other.
The two men regarded each other for a moment before bursting out laughing and embracing.
"It's been a long time hasn't it old friend?"
"Indeed Edmund," replied Zhuge as they pulled away and looked each other over, "You look very well. I hope you weren't called away from anything important to the cause?"
"Of course not old chap," replied Edmund laughing, "I was trying to make the White Rhino extinct actually." He smiled at his old friend's disapproving look. "I'm joking."
"I sincerely hope so."
The two walked, side by side, as they continued to talk of old times. They had been friends for almost twenty years but they hadn't seen each other for almost three.
"So, where's Paul Zhuge?"
"He was stationed at the Vatican when he was assigned to this task. I believe he has the responsibility of escorting our.equipment."
"Ah, I see. So what kind of "Equipment" are we talking about here?"
"Kill Team Alpha," whispered Zhuge.
Burke's eyes widened, "My God. So it wasn't a typo in the briefing." He looked at the ground for a moment as they proceeded along, "How many?"
"All six."
"This is serious isn't it?
"Apocalypse serious."
"Bugger."
"Indeed."
The pair continued along the terminals until they came to the cargo delivery area, where they found a very flustered Italian screaming rather loudly at a group of men trying to load some very large crates into a truck.
"Lazy Austrian Bastards! Get your backs into it!"
"Still as charming as ever, eh Paul?"
Paul Rossi, Inquisitor, turned about and grinned enormously at Burke and Liang.
"It's about fucking time you two got here!" he roared as he grabbed them both in a bear hug. He released them after almost breaking both their ribs and patted them on the shoulders.
He was huge man, immensely well built. He had a primitive brow, suggesting a somewhat stupid persona, but his jade green eyes sparkled with a fierce intelligence. He was in his late twenties, with a shaven head, a flat jaw and a pair of scars running down his right eye. He was wearing a black shirt, covered by a dark green waistcoat, black trousers and boots, topped off by a heavy black leather coat that fell to his knees. Despite the rather hot weather, he wasn't even sweating. Like most large men, he was quite gentle to those around him, although he did have a bad habit of swearing almost every time he spoke.
"How the Hell have you two assholes been?"
"Grand."
"I am quite well thank you."
"Great!" yelled Paul as he turned his attention to the airport staff again; "You total assholes! What the Hell do you think you're doing? It's supposed to be the other way around! You stupid Austrian mother-"
"Paul," yelled Edmund suddenly.
The giant turned, "Yes?"
"Where's Faith?"
Rossi shrugged his shoulders, "Beats me. Apparently she was already in Austria when she was called for this mission. At St Viet, if I'm not mistaken. A total shit hole as I understand it."
"Why isn't she here to meet us?" asked Zhuge.
"She was just finishing a minor case she had when she was called."
"I see," replied Zhuge, "So, who's she killing anyway?"
"Some director of pornography who is supposed to be a leader of some Satanic pleasure cult."
They all stood staring off into space as they thought of their missing compatriot. They all shuddered.
"We could just call her and head to Graz and meet up with her there," suggested Edmund.
"Definitely!" said Paul a little too quickly, "Can't hang around here all day when there's a world that need's saving."
Both Paul and Edmund quickly turned to Zhuge. They were both smiling at him. He didn't have to read their minds to know what they wanted.
"I am not calling her."
"Oh come Zhuge, be a sport."
"No."
"Please?"
Zhuge grumbled to himself as he fumbled in his coat for his mobile, "I hate talking to her. Why can't one of you do it?"
"She hates me," replied Burke.
"She scares me," answered Paul.
"Cowards," mumbled Zhuge as he dialled her number.
St Viet, Austria
"So," said Inquisitor Faith Thompson as she lit a cigarette, "Any more members you've neglected to tell me about?"
"No," came a voice, which sounded to be in a monumental amount of pain just below her.
Faith smiled as she took a puff. She had infiltrated the cult three days ago and had poisoned every single member today. The seven other members of the cult, four women and three men were sprawled all around her, naked and very dead. She had been required to bring the wine on the night of her initiation. Where all the other members had planned to ravage her. She had brought two bottles of red wine, one laced with cyanide, poured drinks for everybody except for herself and the leader out of the poisoned bottle, then turned to her own glass and the leader's.
She had then broken the leader's arms and busted his kneecaps while everybody else dropped like flies all around her.
The leader was currently lying on his stomach with Faith sitting on his back. She had taken out her sawn-off double-barrelled shotgun from her car and had laid it across her lap as she began her inquiries. She had said he wouldn't die as long as she kept him supplied with answers. So far he was doing a spectacular job.
"Please don't kill me," whimpered the cult leader.
"I shall do with you as I see fit," snapped Faith, sliding one of her homemade rounds into the shotgun.
The man whimpered pitifully, Faith stamped on his hand unsympathetically, earning a howl of agony from the man. She slid another round into her shotgun, smiling serenely.
"Apparently I have to give you the last rights," she said in a matter of fact tone, "However there is a mild problem there you see. I'm not a priest, I am an Inquisitor. Priests save your soul the easy way, while I do it my way."
She took a puff of her cigarette while cocking the gun, "I also decide if you deserve to be saved while in the field. Frankly, I have decided that you don't deserve to be saved."
The man began to bawl like a child, as he realised Faith was deadly serious about this. He was going to die today.
She was going to kill him.
Faith pressed the nozzles of the gun against the back of the man's head, taking care to get to the point where the spine and skull met. She thought she could hear him muttering the "Our Father" in between sobs.
She smiled.
She rubbed her slender index finger against the trigger and began to slowly apply pressure. She whispered a psalm, so low it was barely audible.
The room was suddenly filled with the ringing of a mobile phone.
"Typical," murmured the Inquisitor as she began searching for her phone in her coat. After a few moments she found it and switched it on.
"Yes? Who is it."
The caller answered. Faith's features became contorted in anger.
"Oh.Hello Hell spawn."
There was a rather angry response on the other end of the phone.
"Yes.yes.I see.yes.yes fuck you too.hmm.I know.I'm a little busy at the minute you know.oh I get it.I'll meet you in Graz by this time tomorrow. Goodbye."
She slipped the phone back into her pocket and stood up.
"Apparently I am needed elsewhere," she said with a hint of irritation in her voice. She strolled to the door. She heard the cult leader sigh in relief. She stopped suddenly and turned around to face the ruined man, aiming for his head with the shotgun.
"Au Revoir."
She pulled the trigger hard, the gun buckling in her hand as both barrels roared, spewing forth fire and death from the nozzles. The special rounds she had selected to deliver this righteous kill were of her own personal stock. Something she made as a hobby.
They were called inferno rounds.
The cultist's head jerked back violently as both rounds broke through his face, rendering him unidentifiable, barely an instant later, his head detonated as the bullets exploded from where they were lodged in his head. The resultant flames quickly spread across his robed body, engulfing it and spreading across the floor to the remains of the rest of the cult.
By that time, Faith was walking to her car.
It was a Ford Escort, an older model with a burgundy paint job.
She paced towards it quickly. She was in her mid-thirties, her hair was raven black and fell past her shoulders, and it was moving slightly with the wind. Her eyes were a piercing shade of green, she had wrinkles on her forehead from frowning too much, and she had a small nose and full lips that hadn't seen lipstick in almost a decade. She was thin yet muscular, resembling a gymnast. She wore a black blouse, black jeans, boots and a black leather jacket. She opened the door and threw the shotgun under the passenger seat before getting in. She turned the key, smiling as the engine roared into life. The cult met on a small private estate twenty miles outside town so as to reduce their chances of being discovered.
It was doubtful anyone would notice anything was wrong until the fire spread to the rest of the household, making it visible to the townspeople in the morning from the column of smoke.
By then she would be long gone.
Humming "Ave Maria" to herself, Faith drove to the entrance of the estate, out onto the road and on her way to Graz.
Graz, Austria
There were still police cordons around the hill with the playground on top where the remains of several people had been found. The police were now getting more suspicious that there was something significant about the area when the two men guarding it had been incapacitated last night. While the officers were going through the surrounding area with a fine toothcomb, two women were watching them at a distance with binoculars.
One woman was in her late sixties, with a kind, wrinkled face and neat white hair, she had a large red woollen coat that fell to her ankles and appeared to be home made. The other woman looked to be in her late thirties, with fire red hair and a slender figure; she was wearing a dark green business suit with a white blouse.
"Can you feel the magical backwash?" asked Dominique Destine.
"Of course I can you miserable cow bitch," Jezebel Tibbs in a conversational tone of voice. Dominique looked at the woman, trying to repress the urge she felt to throttle this witch.
"Whatever happened here, we were too late to stop it," said Dominique.
"Good thing you're here," said Jezebel sarcastically, "Without your keen powers of observation I could have been here for days before I figured that out."
Dominique put her binoculars down slowly before turning to face the servant of her late foe, Macbeth.
"You do realise that this is your entire fault you stupid old woman," she growled.
Jezebel calmly put her binoculars on a pick nick table near her before meeting Demona's look head on.
"If anyone is to blame here Demona. It's you."
"I wasn't the one who believed Brooklyn could handle the Codicium."
"No. You were the one who put all that hatred in his heart. The Codicium fuelled that hatred and is now using it for it's own ends."
Demona glared at the old lady menacingly, Jezebel never flinched.
"Why did you call for my assistance woman?"
"Two reasons."
"Two?"
"Yes. My first reason was that you have had first hand experience with the Malus Codicium and some of the magic in it, which would make you useful."
"And the second reason?"
Jezebel looked at her coldly, "The second reason is none of your business."
That said, she turned and headed for the armoured van.
Feldbach, Austria
The basement was filled with screams of inhuman agony as flashes of pale blue light engulfed the trapped daemon host. It had been covered in chains with dark talismans attached, trapping its power and amplifying the pain it felt.
~Please Master stop!~ it begged through tortured screams.
"Quite pathetic when it isn't trying to kill people. Don't you agree Riana?" asked Brooklyn. He was sitting on a couch just in front of the bound daemon, a dirty smile on his face with his staff, glowing in his hands as it channelled his hatred of the creature before him into destructive energy.
Riana was standing to Brooklyn's left, a sadistic smile on her own face as Sin hovered in the air, going into spasms and howling like an animal.
"You've given us the location of the resting places of the three weapons," said Brooklyn, looking board suddenly. "Now tell me where the place of Trials is so I can get this show on the road."
~I'm supposed to lead you there Master!~ howled the daemon.
"You're also supposed to protect him," replied Riana, "What I found you doing to him didn't grab me as being all that protective if you ask me."
"I won't ask you again," said Brooklyn, "If you want to exist at all after this is all over then you better fucking tell me." To emphasise his point he channelled more dark magic through the staff and at Sin, causing the daemon host to scream all the louder.
~All right! All right I'll tell you! Just make it stop!~
"First tell me. Then I will make it stop."
Sin told him through it's agonised screams. Brooklyn noted down the location before standing up.
"Well done Sin," said Brooklyn, "And now I shall make it stop as promised."
His eyes flared with a pale blue light as he pointed the staff at the daemon and began to mutter a passage of the Malus Codicium in the daemon's tongue. Riana ducked behind the couch as the raven end of the staff began to glow first blue, then a fiery white. A ball of magical energy began to build up as Brooklyn continued speaking. Sin looked on in horror as it realised what he was about to do.
~No Master! Don't send me back there! I beg of you!~
Brooklyn smiled evilly as he completed the spell, "See you in Hell Sin," he cackled as he launched the energy ball at the daemon.
The ball hit the host body, that of the late Inquisitor Emmanuel Hasphant, directly in the chest. It entered the host and then for a moment, nothing happened. It was in that moment that Brooklyn chose to join Riana behind the couch. Barely a second after the gargoyle had ducked behind the couch, the host body detonated.
There was a blinding flash as the room shook with the power of the banishment spell. The incorporeal daemon, freed from its host, screamed in terror as a hole in reality opened up behind it, a portal into the dark realm.
~I WILL HAVE REVENGE MORTAL!~ howled Sin, as it was dragged into the portal by a seething mass of tentacles, each seething blood and puss. With a final scream, the daemon was dragged through and the hole closed up behind it.
Brooklyn peered over the couch, a horrible grin forming across his lips.
"That fucking rocked!" he yelled, throwing his hands up.
Riana got up and gave him an odd look; "Sometimes you act like a total fucking kid. You know that?"
"Whatever," said Brooklyn, getting up and brushing a piece of colon out of his hair, "You know where that village in the Czech Republic is that Sin mentioned?"
"Of course."
"Good," replied Brooklyn, "Here's the plan, we get a shower and some new clothes and then we head out to.The Village."
Wolfsberg, Austria: 2 Hours later
The sun had set almost an hour ago in the small town of Wolfsberg. It was a small town on the way to Graz, just off the motorway.
Faith stepped out of her car and headed to the bank to make a withdrawal of the local currency so she could by some petrol and get some lunch. She took out her coat from the car as a very cold wind blew across the street. She looked up dismally at the clouds. It was going to snow soon.
"Fang, its freezing," complained Mal as he looked up at the sky, "Can't we just use the spell Jez gave us to turn human so we can talk to this friend of yours inside where it's probably warmer?" Mal shivered. He had made the mistake of wearing just another of his Hawaiian shirts and a pair of sand coloured slacks.
The Cougar mutate remained silent, as he had done for the past ten minutes. They were perched on top of the Church in the town, opposite the bank. They had tailed one of Fang's old associates, a gentleman by the name of Frederick Van Litz.
"How do you know this guy anyway?" asked Mal, hoping to start Fang on one of his tales of when he was a mercenary for hire. Some of them were pretty exciting.
"We used to work together," said Fang, still staring down at the entrance to the bank where Frederick and three other men had entered. If what he suspected was going down, then he and Mal would have to wait outside for him.
"Doing what?"
An alarm bell sounded inside the bank as four men burst through the doors, carrying guns and wearing hoods over their heads.
"That," said Fang as he spread his wings and flew towards the armed robbers.
"Figures," chattered Mal, as he dived after his friend.
Faith was twenty meters from the entrance from the bank when all Hell broke loose.
Firstly, an alarm bell rang inside the bank, followed barely a second later by four armed and masked men bursting out of the door, each holding large sacks of money. A dark green car screeched to a halt several meters away from her, awaiting the robbers. Her hands dove into the inside pockets of her coat as she began to fumble for a weapon.
One of the robbers saw her reach into her coat to pull something out, he brought his weapon, a berretta, to bear on her, but Faith was faster.
She drew a pair of wooden tonfa from her coat while dropping and rolling to her right with lightning speed as the robber pulled the trigger. The pistol roared as the 9mm round smashed into a wall on the other side of the street, sending pedestrians screaming and running for cover.
Faith rolled to her feat and kicked the gun out of the man's hand, he tried to swing for her, but she dived below the fist and hit him in the chin with a right uppercut using the shorter end of her tonfa. The man's head snapped up violently before he fell on to his back, unconscious. Faith smiled grimly, she was sure she had knocked at least a half dozen teeth out.
The other stared at her for a second in surprise before they reacted, pointing their guns at her.
A horrifying roar filled the air as two blurs, one brown, the other light green, swooped down from the sky and crashed into the group of men, bringing them all to the ground, unconscious. The two creatures stood and looked over the robbers.
Both had wings.
"Gargoyles," said Faith, taken by surprise. One of the gargoyles, who was wearing a black woollen sweater and jeans, with brown fur and whose head resembled that of a cougar's, looked in her direction, he was about to say something when he looked at her face.
His eyes widened in shock and his mouth drooped open.
"Faith?"
Faith raised an eyebrow questioningly. How did this gargoyle know her name?
She looked into his emerald coloured eyes. There was something vaguely familiar about those eyes.
"Oh my God."
Mal finished checking to see if the last of the robbers was out cold when he heard the car that had been waiting for the robbers, a dark green saloon, speed off down the street at breakneck speed.
"Fang! The last of them's getting away!" he yelled, expecting the mutate to blast out the tires of the car. But nothing happened.
"Fang?"
Mal looked around to where his friend was and raised an eyebrow curiously. Fang was standing there, staring at that lady who had helped them take out the bank robbers. The woman was walking slowly up to him, staring also.
"Peter?" she whispered.
Fang smiled nervously at her, "Um.hi Faith," he said slowly, "Long time no- "
Fang never finished the sentence. Faith had given him a hard kick in the balls by then.
A small apartment block: Twenty minutes later
Fang clutched his privates tenderly as Mal and Faith were talking to each other. He was lying on the bed in the apartment he and Mal had rented in the town.
By the time Mal had pulled Faith off of him, the police had arrived, making it impossible to grab Frederick and take him with them. Instead Faith had demanded that Mal take her with them or she'd tell the police gargoyles had tried to assist the robbers. Mal had no choice, but to agree and had slung her over his shoulders before he and Fang scaled the wall and glided off.
"So let me get this straight," said Mal, looking at Faith suspiciously, "He was your old boyfriend?"
"Oh much more than that," said Faith, she had stopped screaming all sorts of imaginative obscenities in half a dozen languages at Fang several minutes ago. When Mal had made her a quick cup of tea and put a very generous amount of sugar in it to try and calm her down. It had worked.
"I was his fiancée."
Mal's eyes widened, as he stared at her for a moment before he turned to look at Fang, "Why did you never tell me about her?"
"Part of my life that I really don't like to remember," moaned Fang, as he tried to sit up.
"You would say that wouldn't you," said Faith coldly. She sipped her tea before speaking again. "After all. You did jilt me at the altar."
"He said no?" Mal asked.
"Not in so many words," said Faith bitterly, "he just didn't show up at the Chapel."
"Fang! How could you!" yelled the clone, staring at his friend in shock, "I know you've done some pretty low things in your life, but this one's got to be the worst."
"Don't tell me you're taking her side!" replied the mutate, trying to get off the bed to defend his honour, but falling right back down on it as the pain started flaring up again in his lower regions. It had been so much easier to ignore it when the cops had been chasing him. "She never told you why."
"Good point," said Faith, finishing her tea, "Why exactly did you leave me standing at the altar?"
Fang looked deeply embarrassed for a moment as he tried to dredge up the memories that he and Faith had made together, trying to find a way to sugar coat the truth.
When that failed, he made the mistake of brutal honesty.
"You freaked me out."
Faith's left eyebrow began twitching erratically as she stared coldly at him, "Would you mind repeating that?"
Fang gulped as he remembered that honesty was never the best policy where Faith was concerned.
"You.you.freaked me out," he whispered timidly.
"And how exactly did I freak you out?"
"We'd known each other for two months!"
"So? Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?"
"Your family hated me!"
"Didn't stop you sneaking into my house at night did it?"
"Um.don't you think we were moving just a little too fast?"
"If you'd had the balls to say that then I would have slowed down," replied Faith bitterly, she turned to Mal, "first man I ever loved. The man who took my virginity from me. The son of a bitch that gave me my first kiss. What an asshole."
She continued staring at the clone, as if expecting him to say something. Mal glanced over to Fang, who was also looking at him in a similar way.
-Oh fuck they want me to take sides!-
"Um.um.um.who's hungry?" said the clone, leaping out of his stool so fast he knocked it over, "Tell you what! I'll go get us some lunch!"
"It's nine O'clock."
"Dinner then," replied the clone as he rushed into the next room, slamming the door just a little too hard on his way out.
"So," said Faith after several very long minutes of silence, "How'd you get like that?"
"Mad scientist," replied Fang, the pain in his genitals wasn't as bad now, allowing him to sit up on the bed without too much discomfort.
"I see," said Faith, "are you stuck like that permanently?"
"Ah, no. This guy I used to know gave me this spell that changes me back into a human."
"Oh."
Fang couldn't help, but feel a little worried. Faith was taking all of this remarkably well.
"So.are you a sort of practitioner of the dark arts or anything?" she asked, she sounded almost hopeful.
"Only spell I've ever used in my life."
"Oh," she said sadly.
"Why?" He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"It would give me an excuse to kill you."
This pretty much killed the conversation for quite some time. During which, Fang's pain eventually dissipated, allowing him to get some of the tea Mal had made for their guest. When he offered Faith some more, she politely refused and promptly got up and poured some more for herself as soon as the mutate had sat down.
After what seemed like decades, Mal eventually returned, in human form, with a pile of Chinese takeouts and several six-packs of beer.
The road to.The Village
"Get out of the fucking way Grandma!" screamed Riana, as she accelerated her Mercedes to over a hundred miles per hour in order to pass an elderly couple, in front of a saloon, just in front of them. When she was level with them, she flipped the old lady off before pulling out in front of them, narrowly missing an on coming Mac-truck down the other side of the road by several inches. She smiled triumphantly and looked over to Brooklyn in the passenger seat.
Brooklyn was in human form, he was frightfully pale, and his hands were clamping on to the dashboard in front of him just a little too hard. He looked over to her.
"Would you please slow down?" he asked, his voice was a little panicked.
"Oh come on Brook. Don't tell me your afraid?"
"Of dying, no. Of being mutilated and suffering all sorts of horrible agony.yes."
"I promise I won't crash."
"I don't care, slow down."
"What's that? Speed up?"
Brooklyn gave her a look of terror as she floored the accelerator. The engine roared as if the world was about to come to an end, as the speed dial registered that they were now doing one hundred and sixty.
"SLOW DOWN WOMAN!" screamed the gargoyle turned human, as Riana began darting between lanes, dodging trucks, cars, vans and buses at break neck speed. "ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH? SLOW DOWN!"
"I live for the moment."
"You won't be living much longer if you don't slow the fuck down you stupid bitch!" replied Brooklyn. "SLOW DOWN!"
Brooklyn's eyes bulged as Riana took her eyes off the road and looked at him calmly, "What's that?" she asked innocently.
Brooklyn drew one of his Desert Eagle pistols from his coat and shoved the nozzle in her face.
"Slow the fuck down," he said very slowly.
"Okay," said Riana. She took her foot off the accelerator and slammed it on the brakes. Brooklyn yelped as the car began spinning in circles along the road before eventually skidding along into the emergency lane where cars that broke down while on the road could be left while the owners phoned for help.
They sat there for several seconds as Brooklyn tried to regain control of his breathing. When he succeeded, he gave Riana a cold look before addressing her.
"How long will it take us to reach.The Village?"
"What? Going the speed of these pansies?"
"Yes."
Riana thought for a moment, "Two days. It's in the Republic's extreme northern border."
"With Germany?"
"Poland actually."
"Oh."
"We'll also have to go through Graz."
"I see."
They sat there for several moments; each lost in their own thoughts.
"You know what," said Brooklyn.
"What?"
"I know absolutely nothing about you."
"You know my name, don't you?"
"Well.yeah but-"
"Then that's all that you need to know," snapped Riana as she turned the ignition key, "And now with your permission. Can we please be on our way?"
"Do you promise to drive with a little more self control?"
Riana sighed, "Yes sir."
"Good. And call me Brook."
Malibu and Fang's apartment
After Malibu had brought the takeouts the atmosphere had relaxed considerably. So much so in fact that they had called room service several times to order more beer.
Fang had his twelfth beer of the night and was now officially smashed. He had tried to get into a conversation with Faith, who had taken five bottles of beer, but had passed out halfway through telling her that whatever had happened to her breasts over the years was making him reconsider that whole dumping incident he had put her through.
That just left Faith and Mal to talk. They were getting along quite well too. Mal was doing most of the talking however, a lower resistance to alcohol, and little experience of dealing with women like Faith, was making him a little too loose lipped around her.
"And this friend of yours?" asked Faith innocently enough, as she pulled the cap off another bottle of beer and handed it to Mal, "What's his name?"
"Brooklyn," slurred Mal, his eyes were a little bloodshot and there was a slight sway in the way he was sitting. Faith guessed she only had too feed him one more round before he told her exactly why Peter had decided to return to Europe. She really doubted it was for a good cause.
"Why are you so worried about him anyway?"
"I fucking love him," answered Mal, smiling, "I love him like a brother," he paused for a moment. "Though technically.I think he's my father."
Faith raised an eyebrow and slowly pulled Mal's beer away from him while he continued trying to figure out whether this friend of his, he was so worried about, was his father or not.
-Obviously I've given him enough beer.-
"So.why would he come to Europe?"
"Oh.he um.oh yeah, this book he has. It's been telling him some pretty weird shit," said the clone.
Faith's eyes narrowed, "Book?"
"Yeah.the Mall's Codex or something," replied the drunken gargoyle. Totally oblivious to the look Faith was giving him.
"Don't you mean.the Malus Codicium?" she asked carefully.
The gargoyle thought for a moment before replying. "Um.yeah, yeah that's it!"
"What exactly did this book tell him?"
"That's he's some sort of Angel of Vengeance or something. It's fucked his head completely." Malibu sighed sadly, "I mean, he's went through Hell the past few months. He got kicked out of his clan cause he helped me and Fang kill this really nasty and evil bitch called Demona. But the thing was, his leader seemed to think that she was reformed." Mal stopped for a moment and looked around, "What happened to my beer?"
"You drank it."
"I did?"
"Yes. Now go on."
Mal looked a little disappointed, but continued none the less, telling her everything that had happened. From Oberon's punishment of Brooklyn by bringing Demona back to life, till when he, Fang and a woman named Jezebel had been forced to actually ask Demona and Brooklyn's former clan for help in trying to track him down.
"You know what?" said Faith after Malibu had finished his tale.
"What?"
"I'm looking for your friend too."
"You are?"
"Yes. I think we should combine our resources."
"You think so?"
"Definitely."
That seemed to cheer Malibu up to no end, "That's great!" he exclaimed. This only lasted a second though, "Wait, you mean work together don't you?"
"Yes," said Faith, "Why? What did you think I was talking about?"
"Um.nothing."
Faith stood up, "In that case, help me carry Peter to my car. It's dark so we should be able to reach it without being seen if we're careful."
Within half an hour, Fang was lying in the back seat of Faith's Ford Escort while Mal sat awkwardly beside her in the front.
"Wait a minute," said Mal, "Don't you think you should wait until you're sober before we start driving around Austria?"
"We are going to Graz," replied Faith, slipping a pill in her mouth, "That's where the rest of my team is."
Malibu noticed this, " What was that you just took?"
"A special form of stimulant," replied Faith, "In a few minutes I will be completely free of the mind numbing effects of all that beer I drank."
She looked over to Malibu, "Want one?"
"Do you still get a hang over?"
"No."
"Cool! Pass one over then!"
After several minutes, Faith could feel her mind sharpening again, she looked over to Malibu, he was still in human form, and the only trace of his little binge was the slightly bloodshot look in his eyes. He was quite handsome in human form, if only he was a little older.
"Let's get this show on the road," he said enthusiastically. Faith nodded and started the car, bringing it around to the exit to the main road to Graz.
Road to Graz from Vienna: The Next Day
The cabin of the truck was filled with the aged disco music as Zhuge Liang guided the truck along the highway leading to Graz. Beside him sat Edmund Burke; he looked rather annoyed about something.
"Zhuge?"
"Yes?"
"Will you please put something on that hasn't been out of date for at least a couple of years?"
"What's so wrong with disco?"
"It's dead."
"It is not dead!" protested Zhuge; "Disco is forever!"
"Disco's dead Zhuge," said Burke as he pressed a button on the radio, ejecting Zhuge's homemade cassette tape of disco classics. "And nobody came to the funeral."
"Are you two arguing about what fucking music to play again?" Came an angry voice from the back cabin.
"Yes Paul," answered Burke.
"For fuck's sake! Just turn the damn thing off!"
Burke more than happily complied while his old friend gave him an irritated look.
"I won the coin toss," grumbled the Chinese Inquisitor.
"That's why we've been listening to that fucking crap since this morning!" yelled Paul from the back cabin. "Why can't you just listen to some classical stuff?"
Both Zhuge and Burke shared a common look of distaste at the very mention of Rossi's favourite type of music.
"I'd rather be castrated by a corgi thank you very much," said Burke as he folded his arms.
They had been forced to begin their journey to Graz first thing in the morning after some trouble with customs regarding their "cargo", delaying them by an entire day.
Burke's eyes brightened up; "How about we listen to some of my "rap" cassettes?"
"NO!" screamed Paul and Zhuge in unison.
"No need to scream," grumbled Burke.
They continued in silence for several minutes before Paul and Burke got into a conversation about which member of the British Royal Family they thought deserved a bullet to the head the most. Paul was arguing for executing both Princes William and Harry while Burke was arguing that Prince Charles needed a good kicking.
Zhuge meanwhile occupied himself between driving the truck and stretching out his mind into the stray thoughts of the drivers, going down both ways of the motorway.
He had been born with this "gift". For almost a decade he had thought he was the only one who had it. Then he had met Inquisitor Hugo Asquith when he had been passing through his town. Asquith had the "gift" too. He had immediately sensed it in Zhuge and offered his family a huge sum of money if they would only allow him to take the boy and train him for a greater purpose. His parents had been reluctant at first, but had accepted in the hope their son would enter a better life than the one they had to offer him if he stayed with them.
After almost eight years training in the secret halls of the Inquisition, deep beneath the Vatican, Zhuge had finally mastered his "gift" and become a full Inquisitor, dedicating the rest of his life to fighting the Darkness and it's servants.
He could read peoples' minds, both surface thoughts and, with greater concentration, far deeper into peoples' heads. He could see their past, their hopes, their dreams, and their fears.
He stared straight ahead, allowing his body to handle the steering of the truck while his mind began to delve into an ever-changing myriad of thoughts all around him.
He felt the fears and the hopes of dozens flow into his mind and pass through it. It was like standing in a crowded room, and hearing every single word said by all present at the same time. It was definitely something else.
He sat there happily, listening to peoples' private thoughts (though not those of his comrades) as he drove the truck and it's trailer along the motorway to their destination.
Until he felt it.
His eyes widened and his body stiffened as he felt the presence getting, progressively, closer. The road, it was coming down the other side of the road! Whatever the Hell it was.
"Take the wheel!" he yelled at Burke, as he let his own grip on it go. He shut his eyes and began to scan the oncoming presence.
He could feel power; raw, dark, tainted power approaching them quickly. It was in a vehicle of some sort.a.a car, black metallic. Two passengers, a male and female, one was concentrating on the road, the other, the male he believed, was thinking about something, something very important.
But what?
Calling up his reserves, Zhuge stealth fully began to probe this man's mind. It was difficult. The sheer power emanating around the man.
No.not a man.a youth?
No.whatever he was he wasn't human. He was.a gargoyle! A gargoyle given human form!
No.no.there was something else.something.evil.
So evil, it shocked the mind. So powerful that it staggered the senses.
Almost, like it was a consciousness in itself.
He opened his eyes in realisation and horror.
This was who they were looking for.
They were going in the wrong direction! He had to act fast!
Calling up all his strength, Zhuge Liang delved into the young gargoyle's mind, placing a psychic beacon in it. He could trace him then for almost a week before it faded, or before he left his range, which extended to about fifty kilometres.
He sighed in exhaustion from the effort it took to perform such an act and slumped back in his chair. He felt the presence flow past, down behind them now.
"Zhuge!"
Zhuge opened his eyes weakly and turned his head, smiling triumphantly. Burke was leaning over from where he sat, grabbing the steering wheel and directing the truck in a panicked fashion, as Paul dragged him into the back cabin. As he was pulled out of the seat Burke slid over into it and began to drive to the side lane for drivers to stop and have a rest.
Paul was looking down over him, "Zhuge? Zhuge are you all right? Answer me damn it!"
"Turn us around," said Zhuge calmly.
"What?"
"I said turn us around," ordered Zhuge, quickly explaining the situation to his worried friend.
"Riana."
Riana turned her head to look at Brooklyn as she drove down the motorway.
The gargoyle turned human was staring straight ahead; the "Lack of Conscience" was hanging from its chain around his neck and was glowing faintly.
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid we are going have some company," said Brooklyn, smiling darkly.
A Fashionable Hotel in Graz, Austria: Half an hour later
Faith, Malibu and Fang exited the elevator on the top floor of the hotel, and headed to the end of the well-furnished corridor. Fang had taken human form by now, but was holding his head as he leaned slightly on Mal for support. Faith was following the pair slightly behind.
"How much did I drink last night?" He asked, a hint of pain in his voice. He was having a very nasty hangover.
"Too much, as usual," replied Faith briskly, "You never could say no to the brown stuff."
"Remind me again why the Hell you're here?" growled Fang.
"Because you were wasted, I don't know how to drive and because she offered to help find Brooklyn," replied Mal patiently.
They reached the end of the corridor and knocked on the panelled ebony door.
Mal had phoned Demona's personal mobile number last night to ask her where she and the rest of the clan were staying. She had given them the address of the hotel and what room they were in and told them they would wait for them there.
The door opened slightly and Jezebel's kind, wrinkled face appeared in the crack.
"Ah! Young master Mal," she said happily, swinging the door open and taking Malibu's shoulder, "It's so nice to see you again. I was getting quite worried." She looked over Fang with a hint of distaste, eyes widening questioningly when she saw bloodshot eyes.
"Don't say a word Jezzy!" growled Fang before Jezebel could make any comments, "I am so not in the mood for you right now."
"When are you ever in the mood for the truth?" replied the old lady, her voice laced with venom. She noticed Faith standing behind the pair and regarded her suspiciously. "I take it you are the woman Fang left standing at the altar?"
Fang's eyes widened, "How the Hell do you know that?" He looked at Mal, who had suddenly started staring at the carpet, "You told her?"
"Don't blame it on him you hateful scumbag," snapped Faith behind him, "He's much more of a man than you'll ever be."
"What the Hell's that supposed to mean?" yelled Fang back.
"I think you know."
"No I don't! That's why I'm fucking asking!"
"Who the Hell's making all that noise?" Came a feminine voice deeper inside the room. Fang and the others turned to see Dominique Destine. She was looking remarkably angry and was wearing a red business skirt and jacket with a white blouse. She regarded Fang and Malibu with disgust. "Oh.it's you two.I'm amazed I didn't smell you down the corridor," she said hatefully.
"Who are you?" asked Faith, pissed that someone was getting in her way of putting Fang down.
"I am Dominique Destine," replied Dominique Destine, she smiled wickedly, "you're that girl that Fang wooed aren't you?" She asked, still smiling, "funny, you don't look that retarded."
"Hey! Don't talk to her like that psycho bitch," growled Fang, waving a fist threateningly.
Faith's left eyebrow began twitching, as she began to shake with rage, "just who the Hell do you think you are you snobby, red-haired-"
"SHUT UP!" roared Mal, so loud everybody jumped, he let go of Fang who fell backwards and ended up leaning against the wall for support.
Everyone stared at the clone in shock; they'd never heard him raise his voice before.
"Do you lot have any idea what you sound like?" He yelled. He was so angry he was actually shaking. No one answered him.
"I'll tell you what you sound like," he hissed, "You sound like a bunch of fucking playground prima donnas! Fuck sake! You people are supposed to be grown-ups! I've seen more co-operative two year olds!" He was close to jumping up and down at this stage. "I'm not even ten fucking years old yet and I can do a better job at self control than the rest of you put together!"
"Hey Mal," said Fang soothingly, "Calm down buddy."
"I WILL NOT CALM DOWN UNTIL THE REST OF YOU START ACTING LIKE YOU'RE NOT IN THE NURSERY!" screamed the clone.
For a moment Malibu stood there, staring at all of them, as if daring anyone to speak. When no one did, he started to calm down a little, "we are all supposed to be working together," he said, "If we don't we're all doomed. We have to catch up with Brooklyn and get that damn book off him before he hurts somebody."
Faith remained quiet, despite what her conscience was telling her. Mal thought so highly of his friend, it seemed wrong to tell him he may have slaughtered two Inquisitors already.
"You're right," she said, "Brooklyn could destroy everything if we all don't work together and find a way to save him from that book of his."
"If I may?" said Jezebel to Faith, "how could you possibly help?"
Faith was about to answer her when her mobile phone rang. She fumbled in her coat for it and brought it out and pressed a button.
"Hello? Faith speaking."
Her eyes widened as someone on the other side of the phone yelled something at her.
"Paul.are you sure?"
She smiled, "That's excellent! Where are you.Yes.yes.I'll be on the road in a few minutes. Call me when you reach Vienna again."
She hung up and smiled at the assembled party.
"I know where he's going. I know what kind of car he's in. I also have someone who's tracking him as we speak," she answered, "anything else?"
"Where is he?" Fang asked.
"On the highway to Vienna. He is in a Metallic Black Mercedes-Benz CLK55. Our guess is that he may just be passing through Vienna on to some unknown location."
"We should get going," said Jezebel, rushing into a room and packing a small bag.
"Where are the clan?" Mal asked.
"They're sleeping in my armoured van. It's parked around the back of the hotel," replied Dominique rushing to her room. She paused for a moment, "Except for Angela and Hudson."
"What happened to them?" asked Fang.
"Nothing. My daughter is three months pregnant. I will not let anything endanger her or her child. I sent her home."
"And Hudson?"
"I sent him with her to make sure she's okay," answered Dominique. She made her way into her room quickly and began throwing things into a travelling bag.
While Jezebel and Dominique grabbed their things, Faith made a visit to the bathroom. She came out a few seconds later with some towels under her arm.
Fang and Mal stared at her.
"What? I stayed here once. They overcharged me."
Mal threw his arms up in exasperation and stalked outside while Fang burst out laughing. Faith turned and looked at him coolly.
"I don't know what you think is so funny," she said, "I still remember that time you tried to make off with that T.V that was in that room we rented in Pittsburgh."
That shut Fang up very quickly. He frowned at her as she walked out the door.
"Bitch," he muttered under his breath before he followed her out.
To be continued.
Well? Like it? Hate it? Please tell me! Huge thanks to Storyseeker for beta reading and giving me advice on the series, you rock! Extra big thanks to anyone out there who likes the series so far, you guys rock too!
Till the next time.
Darkness
Author: Darkness. Address: darknessdescending2000@yahoo.co.uk
Author's Note: Once again, I don't own the Malus Codicium, it was created by sci-fi author Dan Abnett (who rocks!), now that that's cleared up, don't sue me!
Vienna International Airport
Inquisitor Zhuge Liang walked calmly along the throngs of people as he awaited the arrival of his comrades in arms for this particular assignment.
He was forty-nine years of age and came from the extreme West of China, from a town called Karamay. He had light blue eyes, a compassionate face, neat black hair and a small beard growing on his chin. He was tall, quite thin and walked with a slight limp in his left leg. He wore a very deep purple shirt, dark green chinos, brown shoes and a long grey trench coat.
As he walked along through the crowds to the cargo delivery area, he listened in on what some of the masses were thinking.
-I hope he likes the presents that I brought him. -
-I wonder how much a taxi to Feldbach will cost? -
-Cybil will sure be surprised I came home a few days early. -
-I hope Karl doesn't find out I cheated on him. -
-Where are my damn keys? -
-Hello Zhuge. -
Liang turned to face the pleasant face of Inquisitor Edmund Burke.
Burke was English, his accent betraying his aristocratic upbringing. He was in his late thirties, had piercing ice-blue eyes, neat brown hair, a very proper looking moustache, pale skin and an aristocratic nose. He was barely an inch taller than Zhuge. He wore a brown business suit with a white shirt and brown tie and carried a very official looking black leather bound briefcase in one hand while his long raincoat rested on the other.
The two men regarded each other for a moment before bursting out laughing and embracing.
"It's been a long time hasn't it old friend?"
"Indeed Edmund," replied Zhuge as they pulled away and looked each other over, "You look very well. I hope you weren't called away from anything important to the cause?"
"Of course not old chap," replied Edmund laughing, "I was trying to make the White Rhino extinct actually." He smiled at his old friend's disapproving look. "I'm joking."
"I sincerely hope so."
The two walked, side by side, as they continued to talk of old times. They had been friends for almost twenty years but they hadn't seen each other for almost three.
"So, where's Paul Zhuge?"
"He was stationed at the Vatican when he was assigned to this task. I believe he has the responsibility of escorting our.equipment."
"Ah, I see. So what kind of "Equipment" are we talking about here?"
"Kill Team Alpha," whispered Zhuge.
Burke's eyes widened, "My God. So it wasn't a typo in the briefing." He looked at the ground for a moment as they proceeded along, "How many?"
"All six."
"This is serious isn't it?
"Apocalypse serious."
"Bugger."
"Indeed."
The pair continued along the terminals until they came to the cargo delivery area, where they found a very flustered Italian screaming rather loudly at a group of men trying to load some very large crates into a truck.
"Lazy Austrian Bastards! Get your backs into it!"
"Still as charming as ever, eh Paul?"
Paul Rossi, Inquisitor, turned about and grinned enormously at Burke and Liang.
"It's about fucking time you two got here!" he roared as he grabbed them both in a bear hug. He released them after almost breaking both their ribs and patted them on the shoulders.
He was huge man, immensely well built. He had a primitive brow, suggesting a somewhat stupid persona, but his jade green eyes sparkled with a fierce intelligence. He was in his late twenties, with a shaven head, a flat jaw and a pair of scars running down his right eye. He was wearing a black shirt, covered by a dark green waistcoat, black trousers and boots, topped off by a heavy black leather coat that fell to his knees. Despite the rather hot weather, he wasn't even sweating. Like most large men, he was quite gentle to those around him, although he did have a bad habit of swearing almost every time he spoke.
"How the Hell have you two assholes been?"
"Grand."
"I am quite well thank you."
"Great!" yelled Paul as he turned his attention to the airport staff again; "You total assholes! What the Hell do you think you're doing? It's supposed to be the other way around! You stupid Austrian mother-"
"Paul," yelled Edmund suddenly.
The giant turned, "Yes?"
"Where's Faith?"
Rossi shrugged his shoulders, "Beats me. Apparently she was already in Austria when she was called for this mission. At St Viet, if I'm not mistaken. A total shit hole as I understand it."
"Why isn't she here to meet us?" asked Zhuge.
"She was just finishing a minor case she had when she was called."
"I see," replied Zhuge, "So, who's she killing anyway?"
"Some director of pornography who is supposed to be a leader of some Satanic pleasure cult."
They all stood staring off into space as they thought of their missing compatriot. They all shuddered.
"We could just call her and head to Graz and meet up with her there," suggested Edmund.
"Definitely!" said Paul a little too quickly, "Can't hang around here all day when there's a world that need's saving."
Both Paul and Edmund quickly turned to Zhuge. They were both smiling at him. He didn't have to read their minds to know what they wanted.
"I am not calling her."
"Oh come Zhuge, be a sport."
"No."
"Please?"
Zhuge grumbled to himself as he fumbled in his coat for his mobile, "I hate talking to her. Why can't one of you do it?"
"She hates me," replied Burke.
"She scares me," answered Paul.
"Cowards," mumbled Zhuge as he dialled her number.
St Viet, Austria
"So," said Inquisitor Faith Thompson as she lit a cigarette, "Any more members you've neglected to tell me about?"
"No," came a voice, which sounded to be in a monumental amount of pain just below her.
Faith smiled as she took a puff. She had infiltrated the cult three days ago and had poisoned every single member today. The seven other members of the cult, four women and three men were sprawled all around her, naked and very dead. She had been required to bring the wine on the night of her initiation. Where all the other members had planned to ravage her. She had brought two bottles of red wine, one laced with cyanide, poured drinks for everybody except for herself and the leader out of the poisoned bottle, then turned to her own glass and the leader's.
She had then broken the leader's arms and busted his kneecaps while everybody else dropped like flies all around her.
The leader was currently lying on his stomach with Faith sitting on his back. She had taken out her sawn-off double-barrelled shotgun from her car and had laid it across her lap as she began her inquiries. She had said he wouldn't die as long as she kept him supplied with answers. So far he was doing a spectacular job.
"Please don't kill me," whimpered the cult leader.
"I shall do with you as I see fit," snapped Faith, sliding one of her homemade rounds into the shotgun.
The man whimpered pitifully, Faith stamped on his hand unsympathetically, earning a howl of agony from the man. She slid another round into her shotgun, smiling serenely.
"Apparently I have to give you the last rights," she said in a matter of fact tone, "However there is a mild problem there you see. I'm not a priest, I am an Inquisitor. Priests save your soul the easy way, while I do it my way."
She took a puff of her cigarette while cocking the gun, "I also decide if you deserve to be saved while in the field. Frankly, I have decided that you don't deserve to be saved."
The man began to bawl like a child, as he realised Faith was deadly serious about this. He was going to die today.
She was going to kill him.
Faith pressed the nozzles of the gun against the back of the man's head, taking care to get to the point where the spine and skull met. She thought she could hear him muttering the "Our Father" in between sobs.
She smiled.
She rubbed her slender index finger against the trigger and began to slowly apply pressure. She whispered a psalm, so low it was barely audible.
The room was suddenly filled with the ringing of a mobile phone.
"Typical," murmured the Inquisitor as she began searching for her phone in her coat. After a few moments she found it and switched it on.
"Yes? Who is it."
The caller answered. Faith's features became contorted in anger.
"Oh.Hello Hell spawn."
There was a rather angry response on the other end of the phone.
"Yes.yes.I see.yes.yes fuck you too.hmm.I know.I'm a little busy at the minute you know.oh I get it.I'll meet you in Graz by this time tomorrow. Goodbye."
She slipped the phone back into her pocket and stood up.
"Apparently I am needed elsewhere," she said with a hint of irritation in her voice. She strolled to the door. She heard the cult leader sigh in relief. She stopped suddenly and turned around to face the ruined man, aiming for his head with the shotgun.
"Au Revoir."
She pulled the trigger hard, the gun buckling in her hand as both barrels roared, spewing forth fire and death from the nozzles. The special rounds she had selected to deliver this righteous kill were of her own personal stock. Something she made as a hobby.
They were called inferno rounds.
The cultist's head jerked back violently as both rounds broke through his face, rendering him unidentifiable, barely an instant later, his head detonated as the bullets exploded from where they were lodged in his head. The resultant flames quickly spread across his robed body, engulfing it and spreading across the floor to the remains of the rest of the cult.
By that time, Faith was walking to her car.
It was a Ford Escort, an older model with a burgundy paint job.
She paced towards it quickly. She was in her mid-thirties, her hair was raven black and fell past her shoulders, and it was moving slightly with the wind. Her eyes were a piercing shade of green, she had wrinkles on her forehead from frowning too much, and she had a small nose and full lips that hadn't seen lipstick in almost a decade. She was thin yet muscular, resembling a gymnast. She wore a black blouse, black jeans, boots and a black leather jacket. She opened the door and threw the shotgun under the passenger seat before getting in. She turned the key, smiling as the engine roared into life. The cult met on a small private estate twenty miles outside town so as to reduce their chances of being discovered.
It was doubtful anyone would notice anything was wrong until the fire spread to the rest of the household, making it visible to the townspeople in the morning from the column of smoke.
By then she would be long gone.
Humming "Ave Maria" to herself, Faith drove to the entrance of the estate, out onto the road and on her way to Graz.
Graz, Austria
There were still police cordons around the hill with the playground on top where the remains of several people had been found. The police were now getting more suspicious that there was something significant about the area when the two men guarding it had been incapacitated last night. While the officers were going through the surrounding area with a fine toothcomb, two women were watching them at a distance with binoculars.
One woman was in her late sixties, with a kind, wrinkled face and neat white hair, she had a large red woollen coat that fell to her ankles and appeared to be home made. The other woman looked to be in her late thirties, with fire red hair and a slender figure; she was wearing a dark green business suit with a white blouse.
"Can you feel the magical backwash?" asked Dominique Destine.
"Of course I can you miserable cow bitch," Jezebel Tibbs in a conversational tone of voice. Dominique looked at the woman, trying to repress the urge she felt to throttle this witch.
"Whatever happened here, we were too late to stop it," said Dominique.
"Good thing you're here," said Jezebel sarcastically, "Without your keen powers of observation I could have been here for days before I figured that out."
Dominique put her binoculars down slowly before turning to face the servant of her late foe, Macbeth.
"You do realise that this is your entire fault you stupid old woman," she growled.
Jezebel calmly put her binoculars on a pick nick table near her before meeting Demona's look head on.
"If anyone is to blame here Demona. It's you."
"I wasn't the one who believed Brooklyn could handle the Codicium."
"No. You were the one who put all that hatred in his heart. The Codicium fuelled that hatred and is now using it for it's own ends."
Demona glared at the old lady menacingly, Jezebel never flinched.
"Why did you call for my assistance woman?"
"Two reasons."
"Two?"
"Yes. My first reason was that you have had first hand experience with the Malus Codicium and some of the magic in it, which would make you useful."
"And the second reason?"
Jezebel looked at her coldly, "The second reason is none of your business."
That said, she turned and headed for the armoured van.
Feldbach, Austria
The basement was filled with screams of inhuman agony as flashes of pale blue light engulfed the trapped daemon host. It had been covered in chains with dark talismans attached, trapping its power and amplifying the pain it felt.
~Please Master stop!~ it begged through tortured screams.
"Quite pathetic when it isn't trying to kill people. Don't you agree Riana?" asked Brooklyn. He was sitting on a couch just in front of the bound daemon, a dirty smile on his face with his staff, glowing in his hands as it channelled his hatred of the creature before him into destructive energy.
Riana was standing to Brooklyn's left, a sadistic smile on her own face as Sin hovered in the air, going into spasms and howling like an animal.
"You've given us the location of the resting places of the three weapons," said Brooklyn, looking board suddenly. "Now tell me where the place of Trials is so I can get this show on the road."
~I'm supposed to lead you there Master!~ howled the daemon.
"You're also supposed to protect him," replied Riana, "What I found you doing to him didn't grab me as being all that protective if you ask me."
"I won't ask you again," said Brooklyn, "If you want to exist at all after this is all over then you better fucking tell me." To emphasise his point he channelled more dark magic through the staff and at Sin, causing the daemon host to scream all the louder.
~All right! All right I'll tell you! Just make it stop!~
"First tell me. Then I will make it stop."
Sin told him through it's agonised screams. Brooklyn noted down the location before standing up.
"Well done Sin," said Brooklyn, "And now I shall make it stop as promised."
His eyes flared with a pale blue light as he pointed the staff at the daemon and began to mutter a passage of the Malus Codicium in the daemon's tongue. Riana ducked behind the couch as the raven end of the staff began to glow first blue, then a fiery white. A ball of magical energy began to build up as Brooklyn continued speaking. Sin looked on in horror as it realised what he was about to do.
~No Master! Don't send me back there! I beg of you!~
Brooklyn smiled evilly as he completed the spell, "See you in Hell Sin," he cackled as he launched the energy ball at the daemon.
The ball hit the host body, that of the late Inquisitor Emmanuel Hasphant, directly in the chest. It entered the host and then for a moment, nothing happened. It was in that moment that Brooklyn chose to join Riana behind the couch. Barely a second after the gargoyle had ducked behind the couch, the host body detonated.
There was a blinding flash as the room shook with the power of the banishment spell. The incorporeal daemon, freed from its host, screamed in terror as a hole in reality opened up behind it, a portal into the dark realm.
~I WILL HAVE REVENGE MORTAL!~ howled Sin, as it was dragged into the portal by a seething mass of tentacles, each seething blood and puss. With a final scream, the daemon was dragged through and the hole closed up behind it.
Brooklyn peered over the couch, a horrible grin forming across his lips.
"That fucking rocked!" he yelled, throwing his hands up.
Riana got up and gave him an odd look; "Sometimes you act like a total fucking kid. You know that?"
"Whatever," said Brooklyn, getting up and brushing a piece of colon out of his hair, "You know where that village in the Czech Republic is that Sin mentioned?"
"Of course."
"Good," replied Brooklyn, "Here's the plan, we get a shower and some new clothes and then we head out to.The Village."
Wolfsberg, Austria: 2 Hours later
The sun had set almost an hour ago in the small town of Wolfsberg. It was a small town on the way to Graz, just off the motorway.
Faith stepped out of her car and headed to the bank to make a withdrawal of the local currency so she could by some petrol and get some lunch. She took out her coat from the car as a very cold wind blew across the street. She looked up dismally at the clouds. It was going to snow soon.
"Fang, its freezing," complained Mal as he looked up at the sky, "Can't we just use the spell Jez gave us to turn human so we can talk to this friend of yours inside where it's probably warmer?" Mal shivered. He had made the mistake of wearing just another of his Hawaiian shirts and a pair of sand coloured slacks.
The Cougar mutate remained silent, as he had done for the past ten minutes. They were perched on top of the Church in the town, opposite the bank. They had tailed one of Fang's old associates, a gentleman by the name of Frederick Van Litz.
"How do you know this guy anyway?" asked Mal, hoping to start Fang on one of his tales of when he was a mercenary for hire. Some of them were pretty exciting.
"We used to work together," said Fang, still staring down at the entrance to the bank where Frederick and three other men had entered. If what he suspected was going down, then he and Mal would have to wait outside for him.
"Doing what?"
An alarm bell sounded inside the bank as four men burst through the doors, carrying guns and wearing hoods over their heads.
"That," said Fang as he spread his wings and flew towards the armed robbers.
"Figures," chattered Mal, as he dived after his friend.
Faith was twenty meters from the entrance from the bank when all Hell broke loose.
Firstly, an alarm bell rang inside the bank, followed barely a second later by four armed and masked men bursting out of the door, each holding large sacks of money. A dark green car screeched to a halt several meters away from her, awaiting the robbers. Her hands dove into the inside pockets of her coat as she began to fumble for a weapon.
One of the robbers saw her reach into her coat to pull something out, he brought his weapon, a berretta, to bear on her, but Faith was faster.
She drew a pair of wooden tonfa from her coat while dropping and rolling to her right with lightning speed as the robber pulled the trigger. The pistol roared as the 9mm round smashed into a wall on the other side of the street, sending pedestrians screaming and running for cover.
Faith rolled to her feat and kicked the gun out of the man's hand, he tried to swing for her, but she dived below the fist and hit him in the chin with a right uppercut using the shorter end of her tonfa. The man's head snapped up violently before he fell on to his back, unconscious. Faith smiled grimly, she was sure she had knocked at least a half dozen teeth out.
The other stared at her for a second in surprise before they reacted, pointing their guns at her.
A horrifying roar filled the air as two blurs, one brown, the other light green, swooped down from the sky and crashed into the group of men, bringing them all to the ground, unconscious. The two creatures stood and looked over the robbers.
Both had wings.
"Gargoyles," said Faith, taken by surprise. One of the gargoyles, who was wearing a black woollen sweater and jeans, with brown fur and whose head resembled that of a cougar's, looked in her direction, he was about to say something when he looked at her face.
His eyes widened in shock and his mouth drooped open.
"Faith?"
Faith raised an eyebrow questioningly. How did this gargoyle know her name?
She looked into his emerald coloured eyes. There was something vaguely familiar about those eyes.
"Oh my God."
Mal finished checking to see if the last of the robbers was out cold when he heard the car that had been waiting for the robbers, a dark green saloon, speed off down the street at breakneck speed.
"Fang! The last of them's getting away!" he yelled, expecting the mutate to blast out the tires of the car. But nothing happened.
"Fang?"
Mal looked around to where his friend was and raised an eyebrow curiously. Fang was standing there, staring at that lady who had helped them take out the bank robbers. The woman was walking slowly up to him, staring also.
"Peter?" she whispered.
Fang smiled nervously at her, "Um.hi Faith," he said slowly, "Long time no- "
Fang never finished the sentence. Faith had given him a hard kick in the balls by then.
A small apartment block: Twenty minutes later
Fang clutched his privates tenderly as Mal and Faith were talking to each other. He was lying on the bed in the apartment he and Mal had rented in the town.
By the time Mal had pulled Faith off of him, the police had arrived, making it impossible to grab Frederick and take him with them. Instead Faith had demanded that Mal take her with them or she'd tell the police gargoyles had tried to assist the robbers. Mal had no choice, but to agree and had slung her over his shoulders before he and Fang scaled the wall and glided off.
"So let me get this straight," said Mal, looking at Faith suspiciously, "He was your old boyfriend?"
"Oh much more than that," said Faith, she had stopped screaming all sorts of imaginative obscenities in half a dozen languages at Fang several minutes ago. When Mal had made her a quick cup of tea and put a very generous amount of sugar in it to try and calm her down. It had worked.
"I was his fiancée."
Mal's eyes widened, as he stared at her for a moment before he turned to look at Fang, "Why did you never tell me about her?"
"Part of my life that I really don't like to remember," moaned Fang, as he tried to sit up.
"You would say that wouldn't you," said Faith coldly. She sipped her tea before speaking again. "After all. You did jilt me at the altar."
"He said no?" Mal asked.
"Not in so many words," said Faith bitterly, "he just didn't show up at the Chapel."
"Fang! How could you!" yelled the clone, staring at his friend in shock, "I know you've done some pretty low things in your life, but this one's got to be the worst."
"Don't tell me you're taking her side!" replied the mutate, trying to get off the bed to defend his honour, but falling right back down on it as the pain started flaring up again in his lower regions. It had been so much easier to ignore it when the cops had been chasing him. "She never told you why."
"Good point," said Faith, finishing her tea, "Why exactly did you leave me standing at the altar?"
Fang looked deeply embarrassed for a moment as he tried to dredge up the memories that he and Faith had made together, trying to find a way to sugar coat the truth.
When that failed, he made the mistake of brutal honesty.
"You freaked me out."
Faith's left eyebrow began twitching erratically as she stared coldly at him, "Would you mind repeating that?"
Fang gulped as he remembered that honesty was never the best policy where Faith was concerned.
"You.you.freaked me out," he whispered timidly.
"And how exactly did I freak you out?"
"We'd known each other for two months!"
"So? Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?"
"Your family hated me!"
"Didn't stop you sneaking into my house at night did it?"
"Um.don't you think we were moving just a little too fast?"
"If you'd had the balls to say that then I would have slowed down," replied Faith bitterly, she turned to Mal, "first man I ever loved. The man who took my virginity from me. The son of a bitch that gave me my first kiss. What an asshole."
She continued staring at the clone, as if expecting him to say something. Mal glanced over to Fang, who was also looking at him in a similar way.
-Oh fuck they want me to take sides!-
"Um.um.um.who's hungry?" said the clone, leaping out of his stool so fast he knocked it over, "Tell you what! I'll go get us some lunch!"
"It's nine O'clock."
"Dinner then," replied the clone as he rushed into the next room, slamming the door just a little too hard on his way out.
"So," said Faith after several very long minutes of silence, "How'd you get like that?"
"Mad scientist," replied Fang, the pain in his genitals wasn't as bad now, allowing him to sit up on the bed without too much discomfort.
"I see," said Faith, "are you stuck like that permanently?"
"Ah, no. This guy I used to know gave me this spell that changes me back into a human."
"Oh."
Fang couldn't help, but feel a little worried. Faith was taking all of this remarkably well.
"So.are you a sort of practitioner of the dark arts or anything?" she asked, she sounded almost hopeful.
"Only spell I've ever used in my life."
"Oh," she said sadly.
"Why?" He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"It would give me an excuse to kill you."
This pretty much killed the conversation for quite some time. During which, Fang's pain eventually dissipated, allowing him to get some of the tea Mal had made for their guest. When he offered Faith some more, she politely refused and promptly got up and poured some more for herself as soon as the mutate had sat down.
After what seemed like decades, Mal eventually returned, in human form, with a pile of Chinese takeouts and several six-packs of beer.
The road to.The Village
"Get out of the fucking way Grandma!" screamed Riana, as she accelerated her Mercedes to over a hundred miles per hour in order to pass an elderly couple, in front of a saloon, just in front of them. When she was level with them, she flipped the old lady off before pulling out in front of them, narrowly missing an on coming Mac-truck down the other side of the road by several inches. She smiled triumphantly and looked over to Brooklyn in the passenger seat.
Brooklyn was in human form, he was frightfully pale, and his hands were clamping on to the dashboard in front of him just a little too hard. He looked over to her.
"Would you please slow down?" he asked, his voice was a little panicked.
"Oh come on Brook. Don't tell me your afraid?"
"Of dying, no. Of being mutilated and suffering all sorts of horrible agony.yes."
"I promise I won't crash."
"I don't care, slow down."
"What's that? Speed up?"
Brooklyn gave her a look of terror as she floored the accelerator. The engine roared as if the world was about to come to an end, as the speed dial registered that they were now doing one hundred and sixty.
"SLOW DOWN WOMAN!" screamed the gargoyle turned human, as Riana began darting between lanes, dodging trucks, cars, vans and buses at break neck speed. "ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH? SLOW DOWN!"
"I live for the moment."
"You won't be living much longer if you don't slow the fuck down you stupid bitch!" replied Brooklyn. "SLOW DOWN!"
Brooklyn's eyes bulged as Riana took her eyes off the road and looked at him calmly, "What's that?" she asked innocently.
Brooklyn drew one of his Desert Eagle pistols from his coat and shoved the nozzle in her face.
"Slow the fuck down," he said very slowly.
"Okay," said Riana. She took her foot off the accelerator and slammed it on the brakes. Brooklyn yelped as the car began spinning in circles along the road before eventually skidding along into the emergency lane where cars that broke down while on the road could be left while the owners phoned for help.
They sat there for several seconds as Brooklyn tried to regain control of his breathing. When he succeeded, he gave Riana a cold look before addressing her.
"How long will it take us to reach.The Village?"
"What? Going the speed of these pansies?"
"Yes."
Riana thought for a moment, "Two days. It's in the Republic's extreme northern border."
"With Germany?"
"Poland actually."
"Oh."
"We'll also have to go through Graz."
"I see."
They sat there for several moments; each lost in their own thoughts.
"You know what," said Brooklyn.
"What?"
"I know absolutely nothing about you."
"You know my name, don't you?"
"Well.yeah but-"
"Then that's all that you need to know," snapped Riana as she turned the ignition key, "And now with your permission. Can we please be on our way?"
"Do you promise to drive with a little more self control?"
Riana sighed, "Yes sir."
"Good. And call me Brook."
Malibu and Fang's apartment
After Malibu had brought the takeouts the atmosphere had relaxed considerably. So much so in fact that they had called room service several times to order more beer.
Fang had his twelfth beer of the night and was now officially smashed. He had tried to get into a conversation with Faith, who had taken five bottles of beer, but had passed out halfway through telling her that whatever had happened to her breasts over the years was making him reconsider that whole dumping incident he had put her through.
That just left Faith and Mal to talk. They were getting along quite well too. Mal was doing most of the talking however, a lower resistance to alcohol, and little experience of dealing with women like Faith, was making him a little too loose lipped around her.
"And this friend of yours?" asked Faith innocently enough, as she pulled the cap off another bottle of beer and handed it to Mal, "What's his name?"
"Brooklyn," slurred Mal, his eyes were a little bloodshot and there was a slight sway in the way he was sitting. Faith guessed she only had too feed him one more round before he told her exactly why Peter had decided to return to Europe. She really doubted it was for a good cause.
"Why are you so worried about him anyway?"
"I fucking love him," answered Mal, smiling, "I love him like a brother," he paused for a moment. "Though technically.I think he's my father."
Faith raised an eyebrow and slowly pulled Mal's beer away from him while he continued trying to figure out whether this friend of his, he was so worried about, was his father or not.
-Obviously I've given him enough beer.-
"So.why would he come to Europe?"
"Oh.he um.oh yeah, this book he has. It's been telling him some pretty weird shit," said the clone.
Faith's eyes narrowed, "Book?"
"Yeah.the Mall's Codex or something," replied the drunken gargoyle. Totally oblivious to the look Faith was giving him.
"Don't you mean.the Malus Codicium?" she asked carefully.
The gargoyle thought for a moment before replying. "Um.yeah, yeah that's it!"
"What exactly did this book tell him?"
"That's he's some sort of Angel of Vengeance or something. It's fucked his head completely." Malibu sighed sadly, "I mean, he's went through Hell the past few months. He got kicked out of his clan cause he helped me and Fang kill this really nasty and evil bitch called Demona. But the thing was, his leader seemed to think that she was reformed." Mal stopped for a moment and looked around, "What happened to my beer?"
"You drank it."
"I did?"
"Yes. Now go on."
Mal looked a little disappointed, but continued none the less, telling her everything that had happened. From Oberon's punishment of Brooklyn by bringing Demona back to life, till when he, Fang and a woman named Jezebel had been forced to actually ask Demona and Brooklyn's former clan for help in trying to track him down.
"You know what?" said Faith after Malibu had finished his tale.
"What?"
"I'm looking for your friend too."
"You are?"
"Yes. I think we should combine our resources."
"You think so?"
"Definitely."
That seemed to cheer Malibu up to no end, "That's great!" he exclaimed. This only lasted a second though, "Wait, you mean work together don't you?"
"Yes," said Faith, "Why? What did you think I was talking about?"
"Um.nothing."
Faith stood up, "In that case, help me carry Peter to my car. It's dark so we should be able to reach it without being seen if we're careful."
Within half an hour, Fang was lying in the back seat of Faith's Ford Escort while Mal sat awkwardly beside her in the front.
"Wait a minute," said Mal, "Don't you think you should wait until you're sober before we start driving around Austria?"
"We are going to Graz," replied Faith, slipping a pill in her mouth, "That's where the rest of my team is."
Malibu noticed this, " What was that you just took?"
"A special form of stimulant," replied Faith, "In a few minutes I will be completely free of the mind numbing effects of all that beer I drank."
She looked over to Malibu, "Want one?"
"Do you still get a hang over?"
"No."
"Cool! Pass one over then!"
After several minutes, Faith could feel her mind sharpening again, she looked over to Malibu, he was still in human form, and the only trace of his little binge was the slightly bloodshot look in his eyes. He was quite handsome in human form, if only he was a little older.
"Let's get this show on the road," he said enthusiastically. Faith nodded and started the car, bringing it around to the exit to the main road to Graz.
Road to Graz from Vienna: The Next Day
The cabin of the truck was filled with the aged disco music as Zhuge Liang guided the truck along the highway leading to Graz. Beside him sat Edmund Burke; he looked rather annoyed about something.
"Zhuge?"
"Yes?"
"Will you please put something on that hasn't been out of date for at least a couple of years?"
"What's so wrong with disco?"
"It's dead."
"It is not dead!" protested Zhuge; "Disco is forever!"
"Disco's dead Zhuge," said Burke as he pressed a button on the radio, ejecting Zhuge's homemade cassette tape of disco classics. "And nobody came to the funeral."
"Are you two arguing about what fucking music to play again?" Came an angry voice from the back cabin.
"Yes Paul," answered Burke.
"For fuck's sake! Just turn the damn thing off!"
Burke more than happily complied while his old friend gave him an irritated look.
"I won the coin toss," grumbled the Chinese Inquisitor.
"That's why we've been listening to that fucking crap since this morning!" yelled Paul from the back cabin. "Why can't you just listen to some classical stuff?"
Both Zhuge and Burke shared a common look of distaste at the very mention of Rossi's favourite type of music.
"I'd rather be castrated by a corgi thank you very much," said Burke as he folded his arms.
They had been forced to begin their journey to Graz first thing in the morning after some trouble with customs regarding their "cargo", delaying them by an entire day.
Burke's eyes brightened up; "How about we listen to some of my "rap" cassettes?"
"NO!" screamed Paul and Zhuge in unison.
"No need to scream," grumbled Burke.
They continued in silence for several minutes before Paul and Burke got into a conversation about which member of the British Royal Family they thought deserved a bullet to the head the most. Paul was arguing for executing both Princes William and Harry while Burke was arguing that Prince Charles needed a good kicking.
Zhuge meanwhile occupied himself between driving the truck and stretching out his mind into the stray thoughts of the drivers, going down both ways of the motorway.
He had been born with this "gift". For almost a decade he had thought he was the only one who had it. Then he had met Inquisitor Hugo Asquith when he had been passing through his town. Asquith had the "gift" too. He had immediately sensed it in Zhuge and offered his family a huge sum of money if they would only allow him to take the boy and train him for a greater purpose. His parents had been reluctant at first, but had accepted in the hope their son would enter a better life than the one they had to offer him if he stayed with them.
After almost eight years training in the secret halls of the Inquisition, deep beneath the Vatican, Zhuge had finally mastered his "gift" and become a full Inquisitor, dedicating the rest of his life to fighting the Darkness and it's servants.
He could read peoples' minds, both surface thoughts and, with greater concentration, far deeper into peoples' heads. He could see their past, their hopes, their dreams, and their fears.
He stared straight ahead, allowing his body to handle the steering of the truck while his mind began to delve into an ever-changing myriad of thoughts all around him.
He felt the fears and the hopes of dozens flow into his mind and pass through it. It was like standing in a crowded room, and hearing every single word said by all present at the same time. It was definitely something else.
He sat there happily, listening to peoples' private thoughts (though not those of his comrades) as he drove the truck and it's trailer along the motorway to their destination.
Until he felt it.
His eyes widened and his body stiffened as he felt the presence getting, progressively, closer. The road, it was coming down the other side of the road! Whatever the Hell it was.
"Take the wheel!" he yelled at Burke, as he let his own grip on it go. He shut his eyes and began to scan the oncoming presence.
He could feel power; raw, dark, tainted power approaching them quickly. It was in a vehicle of some sort.a.a car, black metallic. Two passengers, a male and female, one was concentrating on the road, the other, the male he believed, was thinking about something, something very important.
But what?
Calling up his reserves, Zhuge stealth fully began to probe this man's mind. It was difficult. The sheer power emanating around the man.
No.not a man.a youth?
No.whatever he was he wasn't human. He was.a gargoyle! A gargoyle given human form!
No.no.there was something else.something.evil.
So evil, it shocked the mind. So powerful that it staggered the senses.
Almost, like it was a consciousness in itself.
He opened his eyes in realisation and horror.
This was who they were looking for.
They were going in the wrong direction! He had to act fast!
Calling up all his strength, Zhuge Liang delved into the young gargoyle's mind, placing a psychic beacon in it. He could trace him then for almost a week before it faded, or before he left his range, which extended to about fifty kilometres.
He sighed in exhaustion from the effort it took to perform such an act and slumped back in his chair. He felt the presence flow past, down behind them now.
"Zhuge!"
Zhuge opened his eyes weakly and turned his head, smiling triumphantly. Burke was leaning over from where he sat, grabbing the steering wheel and directing the truck in a panicked fashion, as Paul dragged him into the back cabin. As he was pulled out of the seat Burke slid over into it and began to drive to the side lane for drivers to stop and have a rest.
Paul was looking down over him, "Zhuge? Zhuge are you all right? Answer me damn it!"
"Turn us around," said Zhuge calmly.
"What?"
"I said turn us around," ordered Zhuge, quickly explaining the situation to his worried friend.
"Riana."
Riana turned her head to look at Brooklyn as she drove down the motorway.
The gargoyle turned human was staring straight ahead; the "Lack of Conscience" was hanging from its chain around his neck and was glowing faintly.
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid we are going have some company," said Brooklyn, smiling darkly.
A Fashionable Hotel in Graz, Austria: Half an hour later
Faith, Malibu and Fang exited the elevator on the top floor of the hotel, and headed to the end of the well-furnished corridor. Fang had taken human form by now, but was holding his head as he leaned slightly on Mal for support. Faith was following the pair slightly behind.
"How much did I drink last night?" He asked, a hint of pain in his voice. He was having a very nasty hangover.
"Too much, as usual," replied Faith briskly, "You never could say no to the brown stuff."
"Remind me again why the Hell you're here?" growled Fang.
"Because you were wasted, I don't know how to drive and because she offered to help find Brooklyn," replied Mal patiently.
They reached the end of the corridor and knocked on the panelled ebony door.
Mal had phoned Demona's personal mobile number last night to ask her where she and the rest of the clan were staying. She had given them the address of the hotel and what room they were in and told them they would wait for them there.
The door opened slightly and Jezebel's kind, wrinkled face appeared in the crack.
"Ah! Young master Mal," she said happily, swinging the door open and taking Malibu's shoulder, "It's so nice to see you again. I was getting quite worried." She looked over Fang with a hint of distaste, eyes widening questioningly when she saw bloodshot eyes.
"Don't say a word Jezzy!" growled Fang before Jezebel could make any comments, "I am so not in the mood for you right now."
"When are you ever in the mood for the truth?" replied the old lady, her voice laced with venom. She noticed Faith standing behind the pair and regarded her suspiciously. "I take it you are the woman Fang left standing at the altar?"
Fang's eyes widened, "How the Hell do you know that?" He looked at Mal, who had suddenly started staring at the carpet, "You told her?"
"Don't blame it on him you hateful scumbag," snapped Faith behind him, "He's much more of a man than you'll ever be."
"What the Hell's that supposed to mean?" yelled Fang back.
"I think you know."
"No I don't! That's why I'm fucking asking!"
"Who the Hell's making all that noise?" Came a feminine voice deeper inside the room. Fang and the others turned to see Dominique Destine. She was looking remarkably angry and was wearing a red business skirt and jacket with a white blouse. She regarded Fang and Malibu with disgust. "Oh.it's you two.I'm amazed I didn't smell you down the corridor," she said hatefully.
"Who are you?" asked Faith, pissed that someone was getting in her way of putting Fang down.
"I am Dominique Destine," replied Dominique Destine, she smiled wickedly, "you're that girl that Fang wooed aren't you?" She asked, still smiling, "funny, you don't look that retarded."
"Hey! Don't talk to her like that psycho bitch," growled Fang, waving a fist threateningly.
Faith's left eyebrow began twitching, as she began to shake with rage, "just who the Hell do you think you are you snobby, red-haired-"
"SHUT UP!" roared Mal, so loud everybody jumped, he let go of Fang who fell backwards and ended up leaning against the wall for support.
Everyone stared at the clone in shock; they'd never heard him raise his voice before.
"Do you lot have any idea what you sound like?" He yelled. He was so angry he was actually shaking. No one answered him.
"I'll tell you what you sound like," he hissed, "You sound like a bunch of fucking playground prima donnas! Fuck sake! You people are supposed to be grown-ups! I've seen more co-operative two year olds!" He was close to jumping up and down at this stage. "I'm not even ten fucking years old yet and I can do a better job at self control than the rest of you put together!"
"Hey Mal," said Fang soothingly, "Calm down buddy."
"I WILL NOT CALM DOWN UNTIL THE REST OF YOU START ACTING LIKE YOU'RE NOT IN THE NURSERY!" screamed the clone.
For a moment Malibu stood there, staring at all of them, as if daring anyone to speak. When no one did, he started to calm down a little, "we are all supposed to be working together," he said, "If we don't we're all doomed. We have to catch up with Brooklyn and get that damn book off him before he hurts somebody."
Faith remained quiet, despite what her conscience was telling her. Mal thought so highly of his friend, it seemed wrong to tell him he may have slaughtered two Inquisitors already.
"You're right," she said, "Brooklyn could destroy everything if we all don't work together and find a way to save him from that book of his."
"If I may?" said Jezebel to Faith, "how could you possibly help?"
Faith was about to answer her when her mobile phone rang. She fumbled in her coat for it and brought it out and pressed a button.
"Hello? Faith speaking."
Her eyes widened as someone on the other side of the phone yelled something at her.
"Paul.are you sure?"
She smiled, "That's excellent! Where are you.Yes.yes.I'll be on the road in a few minutes. Call me when you reach Vienna again."
She hung up and smiled at the assembled party.
"I know where he's going. I know what kind of car he's in. I also have someone who's tracking him as we speak," she answered, "anything else?"
"Where is he?" Fang asked.
"On the highway to Vienna. He is in a Metallic Black Mercedes-Benz CLK55. Our guess is that he may just be passing through Vienna on to some unknown location."
"We should get going," said Jezebel, rushing into a room and packing a small bag.
"Where are the clan?" Mal asked.
"They're sleeping in my armoured van. It's parked around the back of the hotel," replied Dominique rushing to her room. She paused for a moment, "Except for Angela and Hudson."
"What happened to them?" asked Fang.
"Nothing. My daughter is three months pregnant. I will not let anything endanger her or her child. I sent her home."
"And Hudson?"
"I sent him with her to make sure she's okay," answered Dominique. She made her way into her room quickly and began throwing things into a travelling bag.
While Jezebel and Dominique grabbed their things, Faith made a visit to the bathroom. She came out a few seconds later with some towels under her arm.
Fang and Mal stared at her.
"What? I stayed here once. They overcharged me."
Mal threw his arms up in exasperation and stalked outside while Fang burst out laughing. Faith turned and looked at him coolly.
"I don't know what you think is so funny," she said, "I still remember that time you tried to make off with that T.V that was in that room we rented in Pittsburgh."
That shut Fang up very quickly. He frowned at her as she walked out the door.
"Bitch," he muttered under his breath before he followed her out.
To be continued.
Well? Like it? Hate it? Please tell me! Huge thanks to Storyseeker for beta reading and giving me advice on the series, you rock! Extra big thanks to anyone out there who likes the series so far, you guys rock too!
Till the next time.
Darkness