.
.
.
As Sean continued to feed him the details of the evening attack, Erik was so devastated, not even the single part of him felt anything anymore, for he knew that the reaction will surface soon and already dreaded it. Bound by unvoiced promise, he helped Sean to treat Alex's wounds, helped Hank, trapped under the debris to get out, werewolf's ribs have been broken and the blue fur dark with blood in more than one place, he also had Raven drink the sleeping pills, desperate times — desperate measures, so she cried herself to sleep and then followed Alex to the hospital when the ambulance finally arrived.
He was blankly staring at the pristinely white ceiling when Sean's mop of red hair has appeared in the periphery, accompanied by the smell of shitty hospital coffee, which he dutifully accepted and even hummed thanks on autopilot.
"The red demon was not alone, he's brought the others. Two vampires and a necromancer," said Sean, "Alex has smashed the red one with the desk, but when the teleporter stabbed him. From behind," he gulped and continued, "The library has already been on fire when Alex woke me up and we ran to Raven's room. He was yelling something, wanted me to call Charles…"
Unsurprisingly, Hank claimed that he was unconscious all the time, since the far wall of the laboratory has exploded and he was buried underneath the fallen debris. The flask was nowhere to be found, as well as the helmet, as well as Charles.
Erik squeezed his eyes shut and tiredly rubbed his forehead, fingers pressing into skin in a hard, vain attempt at fighting the approaching headache, the stubborn visions from his last dream were not willing to give up. He had another one, yesterday night, when he briefly fell asleep in the library and opened his eyes in the graveyard of the old church on the hill, building half obscured by the untrimmed aspens and wild grapevines, greedily clutching crumbling walls for support, the flock of crows always spiraling down and up in the infinite dance. Not so long ago, he's seen the infernal building from the car window, when Raven was driving and asked her out of simple curiosity. The place looks cursed, shrugged Raven in response, even Charles doesn't know much about it and if he doesn't, and he's a walking Wikipedia in this department, she snickered, then you shouldn't ask me at all. In the dream, he reached for the dusty, wooden doors and pushed them apart and Shaw was standing at the altar, arms spread in a welcoming gesture. And then Erik was burning, flame has engulfed him from head to toe, and he has felt every inch of his skin screaming in agony, but his mouth remained closed, cries dying within, as the blazing heat was devouring him whole.
"Hey, Erik," Sean has touched his shoulder and quickly stammered out, "You looked really weird just now, kind of super gloomy. Ah, never mind that! Err… it's Alex. He's just said, that he wants to see us…"
"Okay," after all, he couldn't even pinpoint what has brought him to the hospital in the first place. But he followed Sean nevertheless, the same feeling of obligation firmly settled inside.
Alex was fine, if the scowl on his face directed at the nurse was any indication. After she had left, reminding them that they've had five minutes, before she comes back with the pills, Alex breathed out a couple of words, apparently curses, when he attempted to get into a sitting position and failed.
"Fucking shit!" sweat broke down his forehead and he panted, trying to catch a breath, pale skin becoming the exactly shade of the sickly white pallor Erik has so often seen on gravely injured people, mainly on their deathbed.
"One more display of idiocy and I'm tying you to the bed. For real," Erik promised.
"Relax, Lehnsherr. The painkillers will soon kick in. Why does it taste like fucking piss, Sean? Jesus, that hurts!" Alex finally shut up in order to sip water from the offered glass.
Idly, he pondered — the kid was already high as a kite.
Useless — decided Erik and got up.
"Wait, Erik," he heard and turned around, quickly masking his surprise, because Alex has never used his first name, "Sean told me about Charles. The relic's gone. It sucks, man. We are pretty much fucked up… but… Tell him, Sean…"
"What did you come up with this time?" he frowned at the strained, lopsided smile on the teen's face.
"Something really cool!" grinned Sean.
.
.
.
.
The madness was definitely contagious, but, as sagely rasped out Alex, they were going to die either way. Why not, then? Really… First of all, the plan included Alex checking himself out of the hospital with a fresh stab wound in his side, some magical tricks involved. Sean and Hank have also agreed to participate and even though Erik always suspected Sean to be on the loony side, he didn't expected Hank to agree.
"We're the deadweight for you," pointed Hank, looking strangely at home in a basement filled with burning candles.
"Number seventy seven! At last!" whined Sean, "And why do I have to light all of them alone?"
"Because!" snapped Alex from the center of the magic circle.
"Erik," Hank beckoned him closer, "the pendant. You have to take it off, if we want the spell to work."
Suddenly, he hesitated. He remembered the moment Charles lifted something small and shiny from the table, lying amid the destroyed remnants of the cursed sphere and grinned, ecstatic, blue eyes alight with fierce joy, when he showed the relic to Erik.
"Can I take it?" Raven stood on the middle of the staircase, which led to the basement, clutching a railing. Once again, she was wearing her usual fair-haired persona, though this time she was in the old tattered jeans and jacket, hair braided tight and smooth, the baldric with plain, straight sword clearly demonstrating her intentions without any words.
So it goes, sighed Erik and took off the pendant. His dream is coming true this way or another. No, he swore, no way in hell he's going to lose, and he will never ever let Charles die.
Good luck with that!
Shit, the inner voices shouldn't be so annoying. This one was clearly defective.
Stepping closer, Raven took the relic and put the chain round her neck. Gone was the scared, lost girl. Here stood the slayer, the warrior with calm and cold eyes, still red from crying, now reflecting nothing but decisiveness and resolve.
"Final check, guys! Sean, watch it!" hissed Alex and pressed his hand to the side, the motion has probably pulled at his stitches.
"Sorry! Terribly sorry, man!" Sean nestled himself on the floor near Alex and took one offered hand, "Like this?"
"Yeah, you've figured it. Congrats!" Alex sucked in an uneven breath, "Hey, bozo, you too!"
When finally settled in the circle around the book, Alex gripped Sean's hand and Hank's furred palm and nodded to Erik and Raven.
"We'll be ready in an hour! Remember, the spell won't last for long. Up to five or six minutes maximum," he scowled, "if I manage it without coughing up blood, that is. Are you sure, that Charles is there too?"
"Absolutely."
The certainty came from within, no, rather from the same place his dreams have come, the knowledge granted to him from beyond, something he couldn't comprehend, but still accepted. Beggars can't be choosers.
"Okay, then. So, the principle is simple. With this spell I'll grant you my life force, my magic and my mind. So will those two. Theoretically," Erik felt as something painfully squeezed his chest, the words reminding him of the one who had to be standing by his side, "you'll get our shared knowledge and endurance, and don't forget about my magic. Although, the complicated spells are out of the question, you have to be able to create a nasty energy blast. Let's pray for that. Hank's pretty smart and strong. You can use it, I guess. And Sean is in to complete a circle. Also, three is a lucky number."
"Hey! This is unfair!"
Everybody ignored Sean's indignant squeak as Alex went on.
"Unfortunately, using Sean's abilities you have to be half-banshee, and we can't have it. And you won't suddenly grow blue fur or teeth. It doesn't work like that."
"Good luck, Erik," grumbled Hank and added, "Take care of Raven…"
The girl scoffed, confidentially putting her hands on her hips, lifting up her chin to emphasize the point.
"Thanks, Hank. I'm old enough to take care of myself."
"Stay alive," said Erik to no one in particular and turned on his heels, failing to ignore a heavy lump in his throat. The force of the spell does, in truth, recoil upon the caller. Multiplied. Even with the limited knowledge he possessed, Erik realized how severe the payoff will be.
.
.
.
Outside they were greeted with a huge, blue moon, like an evil eye floating in the dark sky, a decoration someone has forgotten to take down.
"It's really blue, isn't it? It shouldn't be," chuckled Raven, regarding the night sun with the mix of awe and trepidation.
"Blue and foreboding."
"Yeah," she touched his sleeve, seeking reassurance against so evident sign of impending danger.
"Raven, you know that this is not your fight."
"I wish it wasn't," she simultaneously shrugged and grimaced at him, something flashing through her eyes too fast for Erik to catch the hidden emotion, "Charles will never look at me the way he looks at you, although you've known each other for how long… Eight or nine weeks? More?"
Honestly, he never expected this issue to come up. Especially not now.
"Raven, I," he stopped, unsure what to say in this case.
"Oh, come on," she nudged his shoulder and snickered, "No offence, Erik, only a tiny friendly advice. Your talking-about-feelings skills need improvement. Desperately."
Well, you can't even imagine, grimly thought he, while getting into the car.
"Logan will help us, if he gets there in time," said Raven, her knuckles white where she was grabbing the wheel.
"The town is going mad tonight, all the evil has crawled out to celebrate. How do they even know? It was supposed to be a secret, right?"
"You feel it in your blood," explained Erik, words leaving bitter taste in his mouth, "It sings in anticipation."
The feeling he has always interpreted as a premonition connected with his sense of incoming danger, a perfect intuition, a hunter's gift… has been something else, entirely.
"Great," said Raven, watching him from the corner of her eye, "demons have got Wi-Fi."
By being quiet, he brushed away Raven's attempts at holding a conversation; instead, he concentrated on his determination, mentally going through tactical moves, the most natural thing to him before a battle and probably the most useless course of action right now. The hill with the old church has appeared near the horizon, the building larger than he remembered, or his perception is already affected by some sort of illusion. The sorcerer was down, he must have buried himself in the tunnels, but Shaw had another one.
They approached the hill in silence; Erik was cutting the thicket with the sword, which went through it like butter, as their path ran closer to the graveyard on the top. Too late, a sudden flash of realization has made him pause for a moment. There has to be a secret passage somewhere, maybe an underground tunnel. Forcing himself into action, Erik has almost tripped on the fallen cross, when the thicket was suddenly over and they found themselves of the graveyard and — shit. The figure in the dark cloak was standing near the lonely stone statue of the one-winged angel, the second wing lost to time and desolation. The necromancer, and the man's occupation was sort of evident, as by the wave of his hand the ground groaned and the skeletons pushed themselves from the graves, emanating weak greenish light of the summoning magic.
…Erik?
The inquiry, weak and barely audible had Erik cry out in relief.
"Charles!"
Raven has thought that to be the signal, so she rushed into the battle with renewed vigor, the blade moving in the deadly, graceful pattern, as she aimed for the necromancer, pendant protecting her from offensive magic.
You brought Raven…
It was her decision, wanted to argue Erik, slashing through the bones, when he noticed the vampires, running to them from behind the building. So many, and when Alex will be ready with the spell… Okay, he figured that Charles will be able to hear him if he thinks at him what he can't say, but in the midst of battle it was extremely hard to keep his focus.
Are you alright?— he managed, and when the answer didn't come immediately, he panicked, the worst fears coming alive in his mind.
Relatively…
Backing up a few steps, he has received the impression of the strain in Charles' voice.
Calm, be calm, he told himself. He's got an excellent card up his sleeve.
When I saw the teleporter reaching for the flask, I acted on a whim. Only later… your dream… I'm sorry, Erik, I've failed you…
Erik growled and launched himself at the nearest blood-sucker, disemboweling him with nice, curt motion. The skeleton though, by some insight, threw itself on his right side and Erik stumbled, unable to help shield himself with goddamn broken arm. Instead, he kicked the creature's bony leg and backed to the stone, mindful of protecting his flank. Wait! The stone?
Fuck, he didn't even notice that he was standing almost at the church's door. The skeletons won't be able to come in, not so sure about the vampires, but…
"Raven!" he shouted, "Get in!"
He pushed the doors.
Shaw was smiling at him from the altar, helmet on his head, as he spread both arms in a wide, welcoming gesture.
"Erik, I knew you'd come, my boy!"
Insides of the church were exactly reminiscent of Erik's dream. The pile of wood in the corner — everything that was left from benches. The stone floor covered with dirt and occasional water spots, rotten leaves and withered, pale grasses covering the otherwise grey concrete. But in this very moment he only had eyes for Charles.
His Charles, back pressed to the altar as the chains ran like black snakes, down his wrists and to the floor, curling on the steps like leaving vines, too long to keep someone like Charles immobile. What is going on? Angry and determined, he rushed straight ahead.
Now, Alex, please, — pulsed the single thought.
Not more than ten feet were left to the altar when he stumbled upon invisible wall in the air and looked down at his feet. The seal, drawn on the stone floor with something dark and slick… the blood… was encircling the altar.
"Well, I have to admit, that I am surprised, Erik. When I was ready to get rid of the vampire, only imagine — I smelled you on him! After that, keeping him until you arrive, seemed to be a wise decision."
Shaw has jostled Charles up, the movement followed by the heavy rattling, and casually lifted him by the grip on the other's neck. Charles body was oddly lax, dangling like a broken puppet, only his hand reached for Shaw's helmet to be slapped aside, and Erik's breath was momentarily stuck in his throat.
"Raven!" he bellowed one more time. Shit! The pendant would come in handy.
"Charles," his voice was little above whisper, "what has happened to you?..."
Everything became white when Erik has got the image, he was not meant to see, the sickening crunch, sharp flash of pain and then nothing.
"Years of waiting will culminate in this moment. He's drunk something mine, Erik, and now I'll drink something his," he sneered, satisfied with the pun, when meanwhile Erik was rooted to the spot, eyes trained on Charles, fear tasted like an ice pick plunged into his heart.
Their eyes have met for a brief moment and resolution was reflected in the steady blue gaze.
Erik, you must not look. Please…
When Shaw's fangs tore at Charles throat, Erik screamed.
.
.
.