Fallen
Book 3: Missing Girls and Mystery Monsters
Chapter 6
- Monstrous Family -
It was dark outside the RV, the only light filtering in through the cracks in the curtains from the street lights outside. In the cramped confines of the van, Danny's breathing sounded heavy to his own ears, but no matter how hard he tried to slow and quiet it, it was still abnormally loud. If there were any fear-smelling monsters nearby, they couldn't fail to be attracted to the van in Fremont right now.
He told himself that his fear was unnecessary. Ava was actively watching him, and though she was still in Washington she could be here in the blink of an eye. If whatever monster this curse had summoned proved too much for her to handle, she could take both of them away from the van to a completely different place... but of course, that would mean they would lose their only lead they had. Presuming, of course, that the monster even showed up in the first place. Until he discovered what he was dealing with, there was no way for him to predict what might happen.
To help pass the time and calm his nerves, he brought out his second, older model laptop and continued his research into angels. Before meeting Ava and researching the subject, he'd only known the names of two angels; Michael and Gabriel. They were the most famous ones, God's greatest warriors and messengers. Now, thanks to the ubiquitous internet, he knew dozens of names, but he didn't know how accurate they were. Most of his sources couldn't even agree on how angels were governed or structured into hierarchies, or even what 'types' of angels existed. It was all very messy, but of course, angels hadn't been seen on Earth in thousands of years, so it wasn't as if somebody could just ask them about it. At least, not until now, anyway.
Danny hoped that once all of this was over, once his sisters were safe, Ava would stick around and tell him everything she knew about Heaven and angels. He wanted to write it all down. He wanted to be the one to know something first for a change. He wanted other hunters to know about something because he had written it. For once, he wanted somebody to respect and acknowledge his skills, and he wanted Ava to help him.
There was a sound outside the van, a high-pitched scraping noise. He froze, his fingers poised above the keyboard. Maybe... maybe it was just kids messing around, or perhaps a bird skittering around on the roof. But when he glanced at the clock on his monitor and saw it was almost 3am, he dismissed those ideas immediately. Birds and kids were usually asleep by this time.
His ears picked up the sound again, this time closer to the door, and when the handle was rattled his heart began pounding inside his chest. He licked his lips, trying to work moisture back into his dry mouth, and he pushed himself off the bed, backing further into the vehicle. The RV door was locked, but whatever was trying to get in was not deterred. Something heavy pounded against the door, rocking the van, and on the third pound the door handle broke off, falling uselessly to the floor.
As the door opened slowly Danny began to sweat, and a sheen of it coated his forehead, soaking his long strands of hair. A woman stepped into the van, and he stared at her sickening visage. The pupils of her eyes were blood red, her skin a shade of clammy heart-attack-grey. When she lifted a hand he saw long, razor-sharp talons extending from her nails, and she smiled maliciously at him, displaying two rows of narrow, needle-like teeth.
"Danny, get some rope!" Ava shouted. She had appeared behind the monster, and as she spoke she pushed the woman into the RV, slamming her head against one of the high cupboards. The monster gave an ear-splitting shriek of pain and rage.
Danny jumped over the seats, into the front of the van, and pulled open the dash compartment, rooting around for a coil of rope he knew Merry kept there. Behind, he heard the sound of fighting in close quarters; things were broken and smashed, papers were torn down. All he could think was that his sisters were going to be furious when they saw the mess he'd made of the van.
His fingers finally closed around the coiled rope and he turned back to the frantic mêlée. When Ava saw the rope, she ducked a swipe that the monster aimed at her with its talons and stepped forward, grasping the thing's black hair and slamming its forehead into the cupboard again. One, two, three times she slammed with enough force to rock the van, and when she let go the monster slumped to the floor, red blood pouring out of a gash on its forehead.
"Quick, the rope," Ava said, holding her hand out as her vessel inhaled deeply. Danny tossed it to her, and watch as she began to bind the monster's hands. "We're going to need something to use as a gag, too."
"Why?" he asked.
"This is a banshee," Ava explained. "You're very lucky. Had it wailed, you would be dead right now. We can't give it that chance."
He turned back to the dash, searching for a rag, his mind ticking double-time. A banshee? What was it doing over here? As far as he knew, the bean sidhe, as it was known in his country, was native to Scotland and Ireland, and rarely left its preferred hunting ground. Better yet, what did a banshee have to do with a curse on his family?
Dirty rag located, he threw it to Ava, who tied it firmly around the banshee's mouth. Now that the monster was unconscious, it no longer looked like a true monster. Its talons had retreated into its fingertips, its skin was a normal pink hue, and its teeth, what he could see of them, looked completely normal.
"What do we do now?" he asked, looking at the still form of the trussed woman.
"Now we need to get this banshee back to HQ for questioning."
"Right," he said. "Err... how do you even question a banshee?"
She shook her head, back to unflappable calm now that the threat was over. "We'll just have to figure it out."
o - o - o - o - o
Ava was taking no chances. The moment she got herself, Danny and the banshee back to the house, she sat the monster on one of the dining room chairs and tied it in place, binding its ankles and its wrists again, and adding another gag to its mouth. Finally satisfied, she stepped back to observe the unconscious creature.
"What do you know about banshees?" Danny asked her, after a few minutes of silence.
"Little, I'm afraid," she admitted. "My expertise regarding the paranormal lies more towards the theological side of things... angels and demons. If this was a demon we were dealing with I'd be much more knowledgable. Unfortunately, banshees are quite rare. Much rarer than vampires or werewolves, so I've had precious little interest in them previously."
"It's alright," he said. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. You're an angel, but you don't know everything."
She gave him a grateful smile. It was good to hear him say that. Humans in general, she suspected, believed that angels should have all the answers. They didn't realise that, sometimes, angels were just as lost as them.
"Do you know anything about banshees?" she asked.
"Just the standard legends. Their wailing is meant to foretell a death, usually of an important or influential man, and they normally follow family lines. I've never seen one before, though." He shivered at the memory of the beast's true face.
"Those are the legends," Ava agreed, "but as usual, they are only partial truths. I do happen to know, for example, that banshee wails don't so much predict deaths, as cause them. Their wail is fatal to a human male, and they are responsible for widowing many women throughout the centuries. In days of yore they ate human flesh - hence the talons and the teeth, for tearing and rending meat - but these days they have adapted to eating any sort of meat. They are strictly carnivores, but other than that fact, they can pass as human, as you can clearly see, which makes them difficult to spot."
"So what do we do now?"
"You should fetch me a glass of cold water from the kitchen."
"Alright. But why?"
"In films, when you wish to wake an unconscious individual, you throw cold water on their face."
"You do realise that not everything that happens in films is true, right?"
"Of course," she said. For example, she knew that there was no such thing as a death-star, and that humans had never landed a space shuttle on an asteroid to blow it up and save the planet.
"So maybe you could just try shaking the banshee."
"Very well," she acquiesced. "Put your ear protectors on."
She hadn't wanted Danny to be present for the interrogation, but he had insisted, so they'd reached a compromise. He could stay, but he would wear a pair of industrial ear protectors, of the type worn by construction workers, which she had stolen for him from a tool shop. Now, if the banshee wailed, he wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Hey, wake up," Ava said, leaning down and shaking the monster by its shoulders.
It groaned, and its eyes flickered open. Ava stepped back, watching as it realised where it was and looked around at its homely prison. When its hazel eyes reached Ava they narrowed, and a vicious smile played across its lips.
"Well," it said, in a voice that purred. "Avariel. It seems I underestimated you. If I'd known you were that strong, I would not have come alone."
"How do you know my name?" she demanded.
"You have your ways of extracting information, and I have mine. Your name isn't all I know about you. Tell me... do you miss your home? Do you miss Heaven? Do you miss your brothers?" The banshee gave her a predatory leer, running her eyes over Ava's body. "You know, it's a shame you're not in a male vessel... I'd like to take an angel for a test drive, see how it compares."
The fact that the banshee knew so much about her was of concern, but she fought back her niggling fears and doubts. It didn't matter how the banshee knew what it knew, what mattered was getting the twins back.
"Where are Merry and Pippin?" she asked.
The banshee smiled. "Last I checked, the Shire."
"Why did you try to kill Danny?"
"Kill him?" The creature looked genuinely surprised. "I wasn't trying to kill him. I wouldn't harm a single hair on that precious boy's head. Well, not now, at least. Everything at its appointed time, right?"
"What does that mean?"
"Tell you what, why don't you untie me, hand over the boy, and I'll show you?"
"I think not."
The banshee shrugged, or at least made the attempt. It didn't quite work out, with her arms being tied to the chair. "Your call." She glanced at Danny. "You can take those earphones off, boy. I won't kill you yet. Not yet."
"He can't hear you," Ava pointed out.
The woman gave a malicious smile. "No, but he can lip-read. I bet you didn't know that, did you? There's lots you don't know about Daniel Carver. Why, some of the dreams he's had about you, they're enough to make a woman blush. Tell me... do angels blush? Why don't we find out?"
"Shut up!" Danny shouted, pulling the earphones from his head and glaring at the banshee with hatred in his eyes.
The monster smiled. "That's better. Now we can talk like civilised individuals. Danny, why don't you get rid of your little pet angel here, and then I'll take you to your sisters?"
"Why don't you tell me about the curse on my family, and then I'll think about it?" he countered.
The banshee laughed, a cold, harsh sound. Ava wondered if that was what she sounded like when she laughed. "Family curse? You believed dear old Albert? How very trusting of you. But you see, Danny, he lied to you, just as everybody has lied to your. Your father, your grandfather, even your sisters. Do you really think they came to this country because they wanted to investigate omens? They fed you that lie with a spoonful of sugar, and you just swallowed it? I can take you to your sisters. I can tell you the truth. What do you say?"
At that moment, Ava realised something. She approached the banshee, pulled back her arm, and punched it in the head. Its body went limp as it lost consciousness again.
"What did you do that for?" Danny demanded. "We need to question it!"
"Yes," she agreed, "but not like this. It can read your mind. That's how it knew so much about you. So much about me. It's all starting to make sense!"
"What about any of this makes sense?"
"Banshees are not one of the creatures which can normally hide from the sight of angels. It must have read Merry and Pippin's minds before taking them, and prepared a place like this, a place warded by Enochian sigils so that I could not find your sisters. It would have been easy enough for them to learn how to do it, any mid-ranking demon knows how to keep angels out. And it's been reading your mind ever since it woke up. That's how it knows about Albert, and about your dreams."
He cringed at her words, a guilty blush colouring his cheeks. "Yeah, about those..."
"Think nothing of it," she told him. "What you dream is your business, and it's private. You have no need to explain."
His aura settled down a little at her words. "Thanks. So... what do we do about the banshee now? I don't think it's going to answer any of our questions."
"I think you're right," she said. "We may have to torture it."
"Have you ever tortured anything before?"
"No, but I've seen it done. It used to be one of humanity's favourite pastimes. You people torture yourselves and each other on a daily basis, physically, mentally, emotionally. And in some places it is still used as a method of interrogation."
"Maybe there's another way."
"I'm open to suggestions," she replied.
"I think Albert knows more than he's letting on. A lot more. The banshee said he had been lying to me. That my whole family had been lying to me."
"It could have been saying that to make you angry, to make you want to go with it," she pointed out.
"I know. But I think Albert can tell us what we need to know, without torture."
She nodded. It sounded sensible... if Danny could get Albert to tell him the truth, of course. He hadn't seemed particularly inclined to do so last time, but maybe this time would be different. The puzzle was starting to come together, all they needed Albert to do was provide some of the missing pieces. Preferably Merry and Pippin-shaped pieces.
"Very well," she agreed. "You prepare your Skype, I will gag the banshee again."
"I don't think Skype's going to do it this time," he said. "I think a face to face meeting would be better." He gave her a guilty smile. "I hate to ask anything else of you, you've done so much already..."
"I will take you to your Trust's headquarters," she said before he even asked. "What is the address?"
"Baker House, Knightsbridge, London."
"I'll just ensure the banshee is securely bound and gagged, and then we'll go and pay the Trust a visit," she said.
o - o - o - o - o
Baker House was a large red-brick building built in the Georgian style, all symmetry and angles, sunlight streaming in through the rectangular windows. It had once been the home of a wealthy industrialist, who had bequeathed it to the Trust upon his death. Legend said the house had been haunted, and that the hunter who had rid the home of its spectre had requested no payment except the house itself when the owner no longer had use for it. Danny didn't know if the story was true, or whether the Trust had merely bought the house a hundred years ago and used it as their headquarters ever since. He'd never been inside the builidng before, so as soon as Ava teleported them both inside one of its libraries, he looked around, taking in the plethora of books lining the high shelves. This place was a goldmine of information. Hundreds of years' worth of information was stored here, to be doled out whenever the Keepers deemed it necessary. The power they held was immense.
"Perhaps we can find a book about banshees here," Ava said. She was walking around the room, studying the book spines. She ran her finger along one of the shelves, possibly checking for dust, but it came away clean. No self-respecting Keeper would allow dust to collect on his books regardless of how rarely they were used.
"Yeah, maybe," he said, but he wasn't getting his hopes up. He didn't want to find a book. He was fed up of reading, of doing research, of sitting idle whilst shit hit the fan. He wanted to act. To do something.
The library door swung suddenly open and two people stepped into the room, each brandishing a handgun. Danny lifted his hands to show they were empty, and tried not to panic. He'd hoped to find Albert alone, but this wasn't entirely unexpected. The man and the woman - he dressed in a navy blue suit and she in a grey skirt and blazer with a white blouse beneath it - were Albert's assistants. Danny didn't know their names, but he could tell just by looking that they knew how to use the guns they were holding, and that they wouldn't hesitate in using them if they thought it necessary to defend the Trust.
"Who are you, and how did you get in here?" the woman asked, her voice as icy-cold as the blue eyes which stared at him from behind her narrow spectacles. She looked a little like one of the librarians from his home town, and he might have smiled at the familiarity, if it wasn't for the gun that was trained on his head.
"My name is Daniel Carver, and I've come to see Albert," he said, measuring his voice to keep it calm.
"Stop moving!" the man shouted at Ava.
The angel was still walking around, studying the shelves, and she seemed not to have noticed the two armed humans who had burst into the room. Now, however, her gaze came up, her head turning to survey the newcomers. Her deep blue eyes were focused, and as Danny watched, she disappeared, reappearing immediately right in front of the pair. Before they could even consider firing their guns, Ava reached up, touching their foreheads with the first two fingers of each hand. Their eyes rolled up into their heads and they both sank to the floor, their guns dropping out of their loose grips.
"What the hell did you do?" Danny asked, remembering to close his mouth as he stared at the unmoving figures.
"They are sleeping," she replied calmly. "Their guns would not have hurt me, but they could have killed you. Don't worry, Danny, they'll wake up in a couple of hours."
Once again he was reminded of just how much he didn't know about angels. He'd had no idea she could put people to sleep. What that a skill inherent to all angels, or just her? How long could she make somebody sleep for? Could she also wake them up again? Her skill obviously didn't work on monsters, because she'd had to punch the banshee to knock it out. For the moment, though, he had greater concerns. He dragged the assistants to one side of the room, and stooped down to collect his guns. When he stood up and looked at Ava, he found her facing the door, watching an old man who was standing there in silence. The man's eyes were the only thing that moved as he took in Ava, Danny, the guns Danny now held, and the unconscious people stretched out on the floor.
"Daniel Carver," Albert said at last. He stepped into the room, past Ava, walking towards the empty fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back like a patient school teacher. "I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon. Or at all. I must say, I'm pleasantly surprised."
"You shouldn't be," he replied, holding up the guns, both of them trained on Albert. The old man barely even acknowledged them. He probably thought Danny wouldn't have the gall to use them. But he would. If Albert didn't tell him everything he wanted to know, then by God, he would shoot the man. Not fatally, of course. Just in the foot, or the arm.
"Can I offer you a piece of advice?" Albert said. Danny nodded. "The next time you feel the need to break into a building, disable the alarm system first. You tripped a PIR attached to a silent alarm."
He glanced up at the corners of the room, and saw a small, black sensor nestled above a book shelf. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I wanted to find you. To talk to you. We're going to have a conversation that's long overdue."
"Are we?" There was a ghost of a smile on Albert's lips, and his eyes flickered briefly to his assistants. "Tell me, how did you get back to England so quickly? And who is your lovely companion?"
"I'm not a banshee, if that's what you're thinking," Ava said.
"If you were a banshee, you wouldn't need to guess at what I am thinking," Albert pointed out. "No, I don't think you're a banshee, or a demon, because no demon can breach these walls, and I suspect no test I can perform on you will yield any results." He turned back to Danny. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"
"What? Are you joking? I'm here for some damn answers, not to attend your bloody tea-party!" he said, an angry scowl crossing his face.
Albert seemed completely unmoved by the outburst. "Of course I'm not joking. You have two weapons trained on me, you have broken into what is one of the most secure buildings in the country, and you have successfully neutralised two highly trained, armed individuals. I simply thought that since you are going to ask your questions, we might at least talk over a cup of tea like civilised human beings. Really, Daniel, being in America seems to have turned you into some gun-slinging primitive barbarian."
"I don't want your tea," he growled. It would probably be laced with sedative anyway. "I just want answers."
"Very well. But first, tell me how you learnt about the banshees."
"Banshees?" he said. "As in... more than one?"
"Considerably more."
This, Danny decided, did not bode well. He'd hoped that the banshee they'd caught was the one who had taken Merry and Pippin for its own purposes. But if there were more of them, working together... he was quickly coming to realise that he might be in over his head, even with Ava's help.
"We captured one," he said, attempting to stand a little taller, a little straighter. He couldn't show his worry. "Right now it's bound somewhere safe. One way or another, we're going to get it to tell us what it did with my sisters."
"And then you will die," Albert said. There was a calm certainty in his old eyes. He let out a small sigh, then glanced once more at his sleeping assistants. "But I can see that I have no choice, so I will tell you everything you need to know."
"Thank you."
Albert gave him a condescending smile. "There, see? I knew there were some manners left in you somewhere. But before I continue, I will tell you this, Daniel. Should you, and your sisters, by some miracle survive, you can no longer consider yourselves a part of this Trust. You have disobeyed my direct instructions, placing not only yourself and this woman with you, but our entire organisation, in grave danger. You will receive no further funding from us, and you will be without our protection for the rest of your probably short lives."
Danny looked to Ava, who was watching him from behind those beautiful blue eyes. She gave him a small nod of encouragement, and he swallowed his fear, pushing it away. Ava was right. He wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man. And a man did whatever he needed to do to protect his family. The Trust was not as important as it thought it was. He'd seen that, now. Hunters in America managed just fine without a Trust. He, and his sisters, could cope on their own. They could make new allies, like Ava, and they could forge their own future.
"I don't care," he said. "I'd rather be cut off from the Trust with my sisters than a member of the Trust without them."
"If that's the way you want it," Albert said. He tapped his chin with a long, arthritic finger. "Now, where to start. I suppose the present is as good a time as any. Your sisters, Daniel, are not human. Well, not entirely human."
"What are they?"
"Banshees," said Albert. "About one quarter banshee, actually. Mating with human males is how the banshees propagate their species."
"I don't believe you," he said, his heart beating double-time in his chest. Albert had to be lying. "Don't you think I would have noticed, if my sisters were monsters?"
"No. Because it was a secret kept from you, and because your sisters are not full banshees. Not yet. You see, mating with a human is not the only part to it. When a banshee is born, it is born with the latent abilities of a banshee - some limited telepathy and the ability to control the minds of human men - but it has to be activated fully. The banshee mother must feed the father's heart's blood to her infant child, to complete the transformation."
"But Merry and Pippin's grandmother died during childbirth," Ava spoke up. "Their mother was never transformed."
"Norma - the name Merry and Pippin's mother went by - was a monster, and Frank, their hunter grandfather, was sent to kill her. They fought, and she wounded Frank. She should have killed him, but she didn't. Instead, she chose him as her mate. Used her mind-control to woo him, and convinced him that he loved her. He took her to his home, and then they did something that no human and banshee had ever done before. They got married. Emma was born two years later.
"But Norma wasn't like other banshees. There was something different about her. Despite the fact that she was a monster, she fell in love with Frank, and it was that love which made her realise she couldn't carry on living. She knew she would be driven by her own nature to kill her husband and tear out his heart, feeding the blood to her daughter, and she couldn't stand the thought of that. So, whilst her daughter was taking her first breath, she asked Frank to kill her.
"I was there, that night, and I never would have believed my own eyes and ears were it not for the fact that I was present to witness it all. Frank refused to kill Norma. Said he loved her, and they'd find a way around their problems together. But she wouldn't take no for an answer. Her last living act was to use her mind-control on Frank, forcing him to end her life, an act that she hoped would save her daughter from her own fate."
Albert paced in front of the fire several times before continuing. "It seemed to work. After he had gotten over the loss of his wife, Frank raised his daughter, Emma. He taught her how to hunt. Of course, the Trust watched her closely, for any sign that she might turn into a banshee, but she never did. The curse, it seemed, was broken. Emma lived a normal life, for the most part. Frank confided to me once that she wasn't like other girls. She sometimes seemed to know what men were thinking before they thought it. She could predict their actions. It made her a damn good hunter, a damn good investigator, but we knew that her skills were a lingering effect of her mother's blood.
"She met your dad, Peter, when she was twenty-two. I knew Peter, and I knew your grandad Charlie. The whole Carver family were good friends of mine. So when Peter Carver and Emma Harper decided to marry, I didn't object. Frank told me that Emma had told Peter about the curse, and we all thought we'd heard the last of it. Your sisters were born, Danny, and for two years the family were happy. Then, everything went wrong."
"What happened?" he asked quietly. If this was to be his sisters' fate too, he needed to know.
"The other banshees had lost track of the Harpers, after Norma killed herself, but they tracked Emma down. They considered it a crime that she had never been turned, and they were determined to turn her into one of them, to further increase their numbers. They kidnapped Emma, took her to Frank's home. There, they butchered Frank, cut his heart out whilst it was still beating. That's one of the requirements; the father's heart still has to be beating, whilst the blood pours out of it. They held Emma down and spilled her father's blood into her mouth, and even though she wasn't an infant, she changed.
"That was one of the worst nights of my life. After she changed, the banshees sent her home, to do to her daughters what had been done to her. I think she didn't want to do it, but it was in her nature. She was driven to it. When she got home, she attacked Peter, slashed his arm with a knife. She would have killed him, but not for the fact that Charlie was there too, visiting his grandaughters. He managed to fend Emma off and she fled. Charlie called me over, and we wrapped Peter's arm for him, told him to take his daughters and drive to the Trust headquarters. We would have gone with him, but we knew our hunt was only just beginning.
"We found Emma in her father's house, looking down at his body. She didn't put up a fight. We killed her, and cremated her on a pyre with Frank. And as we stood there, watching their bodies burn, we agreed that we had to keep a close eye on Emma's children. We knew that, one day, the banshees would come for them too. Even though their mother hadn't been turned when she gave birth to them, we knew that they might be under the same curse as their mother.
"Most of the rest, you already know. Peter was devastated. He couldn't bear to look at his daughters. He left them with his parents and disappeared, hunting around Britain on his own. Eventually he met your mother, Daniel, and he learnt to love again. He returned home and took his daughters back, and became a family once more. When the girls were ten, Peter told them what they were. He told them what might happen to them one day. But he promised he would take care of them. He promised he would do everything he could to keep them safe. And he did. He and Charlie, and Charlie's wife Anne, moved to another town, where they could be closer together, where it would be harder for the banshees to find them.
"For years they were safe. I don't know whether the banshees didn't know where they were, or whether they were put off by the thought of three well-trained hunters - with the backing of the whole Trust - protecting the girls. When your parents died in that accident, Daniel, I'd hoped it would be over. With no father left, there could be no way for the banshees to turn your sisters. But I was wrong."
"What do you mean?" A chill had crept over his skin as Albert spoke. So much of his family history had just been piled onto him, he didn't think he could take any more. But he had to know everything if he was going to save his sisters.
"I never stopped researching banshees," Albert explained. "About six months after your parents died, I came across something. An account written by a travelling priest, many centuries ago. He told the tale of Myra, a woman said to be a witch by the people of the village where this priest was staying. They told the priest that Myra was the second wife of a wealthy Baron, his first wife having died from smallpox after leaving him with a son. Myra and the Baron married, and she fell pregnant. But seven months into her pregnancy, her husband fell from his horse during a deer hunt, and his neck snapped, killing him instantly. The villagers, not knowing what Myra was, rallied to help her. She was heavily pregnant, after all, and left with the Baron's five year old boy to take care of as well.
"Around the time the baby was due to be born, a midwife went up to the house, and what she found there nearly drove her insane. Myra's bed was covered with blood, and an afterbirth had been left behind. And on the floor beside the bed was the body of the Baron's son, his chest cavity split open and his heart ripped out. They never found Myra, or her baby, or the heart of the boy. Witch, they called her, but I know better than the priest and those villagers. The same blood runs through the heart of a father and his son, Danny. Those banshees don't need your father to turn your sisters into monsters. They can use you, just as Myra used the Baron's son, centuries ago."
"That's why the banshee said she wouldn't kill you yet," Ava told him, but he was barely listening. His insides were a maelstrom of disbelief and confusion. All his life, he had been lied to by his family. And now, his sisters might become monsters, because of him. Now, his entire life was reduced to two choices; kill all the banshees in the world, or kill himself. There was no other way his sisters could be safe.
Albert seemed to read his mind, because he stepped forward and put a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. "Stay here, Danny. Let us keep you safe. The banshees will never be able to get to you with us looking after you, and they won't kill your sisters. Banshees never kill family."
"So they'll just keep my sisters prisoner forever?"
"It's better than the alternatives."
"I disagree," said Ava firmly. "There is always an alternative. Danny and I will kill the banshees and save Merry and Pippin. And you will tell us how to kill a banshee, since you have killed one before."
"Danny, please," Albert begged. "Let us keep you safe. Let me do this one final thing for your family."
"How will you keep me safe?" he asked. "Put me in a room with no windows and one door? Bring me three meals a day and give me escorted toilet breaks?" He could see it clearly, in his mind. If being safe meant giving up his freedom, his life, then he didn't want to be safe.
"It's what your father and grandfather would have wanted."
"No. My dad would want me to rescue my sisters," he said firmly. He lowered the aim on one of the guns. "Now, tell us how to kill a banshee, or I'll shoot you in the foot."
Albert sighed. "Fine. Throw your life away like an ignorant child. When you fail, I am going to have to send good men to kill your sisters. I hope you think about that, when you're trying to play the hero. To harm or kill a banshee, you can't use normal weapons, they're immune to them. What you need is the bone of one of its victims. The sharpened bone of a banshee victim is the only thing that can permanently injure a banshee."
"And your banshee-killing-bones are kept... where?"
The old man shook his head. "It wouldn't matter. They lose potency over time. The bones Charlie and I used to kill Emma would barely even tickle a banshee now. It needs to be from a fresher kill."
"Fine. Ava, let's go," he said.
"Danny, wait. I meant what I said. If you do this, don't expect any further help from the Trust. In fact, don't return to England."
He said nothing, but nodded at Ava. As the angel teleported both of them back to America, Albert's face, his pleading eyes, disappeared from view.
o - o - o - o - o
Fremont's morgue was a cold, clinical place, and at six o'clock in the morning it was also an eerily empty place. Ava had brought herself and Danny straight here from England and now the young man was keeping watch next to the double-doors. Ava was elbow-deep in blood as she used a surgical knife to separate the tendons and sinew from one of the leg bones of the banshee victims. Hopefully nobody would notice it was missing.
"Are you okay?" she asked, glancing at Danny as she worked. He was leaning against the wall, looking through the small round window of the door, arms folded across his chest. His black hoodie, a size too large for him, made him look smaller than he truly was.
"Yeah, I'm great," he said. She suspected he was being sarcastic.
"You did say you'd prefer to fight monsters than curses," she reminded him.
"Well, I've changed my mind. Right now, I'd take a curse." He let out a deep, unhappy sigh. "I should have seen it."
"This isn't your fault, Danny."
"I know. But still, I should have known what was going on. I mean... everything is starting to make a lot more sense. Why my sisters wanted to leave England... to get away from any banshees. Why we work alone, and don't interact with other hunters here... because they're afraid of being called monsters. How they're usually able to talk men into doing something they normally wouldn't, like getting the coroner to let them see the bodies. How they always managed to do things together without talking much, as if they knew what each other was thinking... I thought it was because they are twins. The truth is so simple. Why didn't I see it before?"
"Sometimes, a thing only becomes obvious in hindsight," she said. Then, she felt the femur come loose in her hand. "I've got it," she held the bone up for him to see.
"We're going to need another. One each."
"Danny..." she began hesitantly. He wouldn't like what she had to say. In fact, he pre-empted it.
"No. I'm not staying behind, Ava."
"But even if we can find out where they're being kept, if you come with me, we will be handing you over to them. They'll kill you upon sight."
"Then I'll wear the ear-protectors. And under those I'll listen to Metallica on my mp3 player. If I can't hear them, they can't kill me."
"They might just snap your neck and carve your chest open."
"Maybe. But there's no way I'm being left out of this one. For the past few days you've been telling me that I have to draw lines, I have to make choices, I have to stop being a kid if I want other people to treat me like an adult. Well, this is my line. My choice. Now are you going to stand by what you told me and respect my decision, or are you going to treat me like everybody else has for my entire life, telling me one thing and then doing something different?"
"Of course I will respect your decision, Danny," she said at last. He was right. It was time for him to be allowed to grow up. He'd earned it. Though she suspected that he and his sisters were going to need some serious therapy to get past all of this. "Do you want a femur, or a humerus?"
"A femur. Safer with a longer reach, right?"
"Right."
She pulled a different body out of cold storage and resumed slicing. It was the first time she had seen a human body in this much detail, and it was a fascinating thing. Ridiculously complex, but somehow it all seemed to work, mostly. Blood-carrying tubes here, tendons there, muscle and sinew and different organs, all operating in unison to keep the humans walking, talking and breathing. All it took was for one piece to break, and the whole thing stopped working. Angels were much simpler. Much less complicated.
Second femur retrieved, Ava teleported back to Washington with Danny in tow. The banshee was still unconscious - she must have hit it harder than she thought - so she and Danny spent an hour cleaning and filing down the bones. Ava used the strength in her hands to break off the epicondyles, leaving behind sharp edges which could be used as a piercing weapon.
"We still need to find Merry and Pippin," Danny said, looking at the unconscious banshee.
"I will get the information from it," she assured him. "You shouldn't be here."
"Oh, so you can torture something for information, but I can't?"
"I did not say that," she said tersely. She did not like it when people jumped to conclusions about her motives. "But that thing can read your mind. You are a liability."
"I didn't think of it like that," he admitted. "I guess you're right. I'll just go and do some research or something, I guess."
"Actually," she said, struck by a moment of inspiration, "there is something you could do which is of more use than research."
"And what's that?"
"Take a look in the forest around the house. We haven't had chance to explore much since coming here, and I think it important to know if there's anything of interest nearby."
"Do you mean our kind of 'interest', or just 'interest' in general?"
"Either."
"Alright. If you think it will help."
He picked up a shotgun and left the room. Ava waited until she heard the front door close, then she approached the banshee. The cut on its head had healed up, leaving not even a small scar behind. This banshee, like all banshees, looked no different to any human being, until it went on the attack. It's what made them one of the more dangerous monsters. They, like vampires, were the wolves in sheep's clothing. Once they had been vicious and brutal, but now they were more cunning. They lived human lives, blending in perfectly, raising their daughters under the guise of tragic widow. They inherited whatever their 'poor husbands' left behind, and they managed to do it without being caught. No wonder they had come to America. The possibilities here were endless.
"Wake up, monster," she said, reaching out to shake the banshee by one of its shoulders.
It groaned and opened its eyes groggily. "You know, you punch like a girl, Avariel," it complained.
"And you take hits like a girl. But I don't have time to stand here trading insults with you all day, so you are going to answer some questions."
The banshee's eyes went to the long, sharp femur in Ava's hand. "Ahh, going to torture me, are you? That doesn't sound very angelic. What would Daddy say?"
"I'm not going to torture you," she said calmly, refusing to be baited. "I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to torture yourself by not answering them."
"If it makes you more comfortable to see it that way," the banshee shrugged. "But you know, if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck..."
"Where are Merry and Pippin being held?"
"Mount Doom, I think. Try asking the orcs."
Ava plunged the sharp edge of the bone down into the banshee's thigh. A blood-curdling scream escaped its lips, and she was suddenly glad she had sent Danny outside. The screams, as well as the wails, were probably fatal to humans. Luckily, her vessel was protected by her own celestial energy.
"I'm going to ask you again. Where are Merry and Pippin being held?"
"Bite me," the banshee growled, its eyelids fluttering as it tried to handle the pain.
Ava pulled the bone from its leg and thrust it into the monster's shoulder, feeling it pierce the anterior deltoid and rotator cuff muscles before it came to rest against the scapula. The banshee screamed again, this time with much more feeling. Perhaps it finally realised that she was being serious.
"Merry and Pippin are being held where?" she asked.
"Get screwed, you virgin-riding self-righteous pansy," the banshee managed to pant.
"I can see this isn't working as well as I'd hoped," Ava said. She pulled the bone out of its shoulder, blood gushing down its clothes. Already the floor was soaked from the wound in its leg. "So I am going to start cutting pieces off your body. I will start with your fingers of your left hand. Then I will take your left eye. Then the fingers of your right hand. Then your right eye. If you still won't talk, I'll cut off your feet. And I will make certain to keep you alive, you understand. You will not die. The last thing I will take is your tongue, so that when I am finally through with you, you will be a blind, mute, fingerless cripple, and you will wish I had granted you death when you begged it of me."
"When my sisters find you, they are going to strip the skin from your body," the banshee hissed. "They'll devour your vessel one spoonful at a time, and they'll make you watch whilst they eat you alive."
"Doubtful," she said. "Now, which finger would you prefer to lose first?" She reached down to the banshee's left hand, and pressed down on the back of it until the banshee was forced to uncurl its fingers. "How about we start with the first little piggy?"
"Wait, wait," the banshee said, as the sharpened bone was lowered towards its hand. "I'll tell you. Just don't cut any bits off me."
"I'm listening. But if I think you're lying, I'm going to take a finger and an eye, so make it convincing."
"The twins are being held in a condemned office block in Fremont."
"The address?"
"Harrison Building, third floor, Park Avenue."
"That's just around the corner from the coroner's office."
"We were hiding right under your nose the whole time," the banshee grinned.
To determine whether it was telling the truth, she engaged her Watcher vision and looked at the building in question. She could see everything except the third floor, which appeared to be a blind spot.
"You'll never get to them," the banshee gloated. "We'll die before giving up our sisters."
"I believe you." She thrust the sharp bone forwards, using her angelic strength to force it through the banshee's ribcage. Blood poured from the monster's mouth, and then the tip of the bone found its heart. When Ava let go, she creature slumped lifelessly in the chair, held up only by ropes.
She regretted that she'd had to kill, but she had no other choice. She could not have let the banshee go, because it would have killed more innocent humans, and she could not keep it caged indefinitely. It was a shame the banshees needed to kill to propagate their species; were it not for that fact, Ava would have been content to let them be. But they were a threat to humanity, so they had to be dealt with.
Plucking the bone from the monster's chest, she looked for Danny, then teleported to his side. It was time to finish this.
o - o - o - o - o
"Do you want to go over the plan again?" Ava asked.
"No, I know what I have to do." He shook the can of black spray-paint in his hands. Ava had been very specific about his role. He needed to find the Enochian sigils that were preventing her from entering the building, and neutralise them. Only then would she be able to enter and help him fight. Only then would she be able to teleport them all away once this was done.
"Good luck, Danny."
"Thanks, Ava."
He stepped into the building through the hole which used to be the back door, and made his way along an unlit corridor. Twice he tripped over loose, raised floorboards, cursing silently each time. This building was old, and in another six months it would be gone, probably turned into yet another parking lot. As if there weren't enough of those in America already.
The corridor terminated in a room, and on one of the walls was a sigil identical to the shape she had shown him. Quickly, he sprayed over it, marring it so that it no longer resembled the anti-angel sigil that was keeping Ava out. His hopes slowly growing, he continued through the building, creeping as quietly as he could whilst moving as quickly as he dared. He found one more sigil on the ground floor, but then he was forced to take the stairs up to the second. They were as old and damaged as the rest of the building, and he almost fell through when one collapsed beneath his weight, but he managed to catch hold of the bannister and haul himself back up.
The second floor was dusty, full of cobwebs, and it smelt of damp. His heart was pounding in his chest by the time he found the next sigil, and he wondered whether sweaty-palmed fear was something common to all hunters, or just him. He couldn't remember Merry and Pippin ever saying they'd been afraid. Mostly they just kicked ass and got the job done with minimal complaints. What would they say, if they could see him now? They'd be pissed, he suspected. Royally pissed.
When he found the fourth sigil he quickly sprayed over it. "Ava, I'm done," he said. The angel appeared immediately by his side.
"Good work. Now, let's find your sisters."
"Ava," he whispered, as she led him forwards, towards the next stairs, "what happens if this isn't the right building. Maybe this is just a decoy."
"Then we'll keep looking until we find your sisters. We haven't come this far to be thwarted now. If you have doubts, save them for a more appropriate time, because they are not a constructive thing for you to be feeling."
He took a deep breath, and took her words to heart. She was right. He needed to stop acting like a frightened kid, and act more like a hunter. It's what he was. He'd proved that much with everything he had done over the past few days.
"Alright. I'm good," he said. "Let's do this."
"Put your music and your earphones on."
He sighed, but complied. He pulled his mp3 player from his pocket and started playing Rammstein - it was louder than Metallica - and then took the ear protectors from around his neck, clamping them down over his head. Certain he wouldn't be able to hear anything, he nodded to the angel.
He followed her up the stairs, and they walked quietly down yet another corridor. Open door after open door they passed, until they found one which was closed. He looked at Ava, and she nodded. He held up his hand, giving her a count of three on his fingers, and when he reached 'one' she kicked the door with enough force to send it flying off its hinges, a loud bang indicating it had hit the far wall. Ava was first into the room, and first into the mêlée of monstrous, angry women. Danny got chance for only a brief look around - he noted some Enochian sigils on the walls - before he too was accosted by a razor-toothed, taloned woman who slashed at him angrily.
He jumped back and pulled the long sharp femur from where it was tucked through his belt, holding it as he would a dagger or a knife. Parrying the next strike the creature aimed at him, he slashed quickly at its hand, and was rewarded with a line of blood appearing across its palm. Unfortunately, that only seemed to anger it, and it jumped forwards, closing the gap between them, making it more difficult to stab with the bone. Instinctively he kicked out, sending the monster staggering backwards, and he used that brief reprieve to check on Ava. She was dealing with three banshees, but she seemed to be coping by teleporting around them at random, confusing them as she stabbed and slashed with her blood-soaked weapon. And, at the far side of the room, he caught a glimpse of two blonde heads. Merry and Pippin were tied back to back, gags over their mouths, and they watched the chaos through groggy grey eyes.
The next instant he was forced to concentrate once more as the banshee in front of him renewed its campaign. He didn't think it was trying to kill him, because it didn't stab its talons towards any vital areas, but it did seem to be trying to wound him. It managed to slash the back of his left arm and he cried out in pain, but he ignored the burning sensation of his injury. When the banshee drew back for another strike, he stepped forward, allowing it no quarter, and thrust the sharp end of the femur into its abdominal cavity. The monster's warm sticky blood ran down his hand, and its eyes grew dim as its life left them. When he pulled the bone from the banshee's stomach, it fell to the ground and did not move again.
Another glance at Ava showed him she was down to two banshees, so he ran across the room to his sisters and tore off the ear protectors, stashing his mp3 player back in his pocket. He reached for the knife tucked down the inside of his boot, then cut through the gags on his sisters mouths, ignoring the sound of fighting from behind.
"Merry, Pip, are you okay?" he asked.
"Bashtards... drugged ush..." Merry slurred, her head lolling slightly to one side.
"Keep still, I'll cut you free." He tried to work out the best way of freeing his sisters' hands without cutting them too.
"Is that Ava?" Pippin said, squinting at the continuing mêlée. Thankfully, she was down to one banshee now; the bodies of the others littered the floor. "Man, she's awesome. We should invite her to rescue us more often."
Merry giggled at her sister's words, and Danny wondered what the hell the banshees had given to the twins, to make them this loopy. When he realised there was a cessation of noise from behind, he looked and saw the last banshee twitching on the floor in its death throes. Ava stepped over it, and approached the family. Her clothes were spattered with blood, but he didn't think any of it was her own.
"We need to hurry, Danny," she said. "There may be more banshees nearby."
"Got it," he said, feeling the rop binding his sisters finally break free. "Mer, Pip, can you stand?"
"I can stand a lot of things," Pippin said, shaking a finger at some imaginary person in front of her, "but I can't stand up."
"It's better to lie down," Merry agreed. She toppled from her upright sitting position, landing in exactly the same pose on the floor. "Hey, everything's upside down."
"It's alright," Ava assured him. "I can teleport them to one of the beds in the house."
"House?" Pippin asked, her eyes suddenly looking a little brighter. "Are we going home? I'm so tired of America now."
"Yeah," he lied, because he thought it was what his drugged up sister needed to hear. "We'll be home before you know it."
- o -
Author's Note: Here ends Book 3 of Fallen. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Apologies for the delay in ending it, but I wanted to see if anybody would notice if I suddenly stopped the weekly updates. Is there another book planned? Certainly. I even have the first 1.7 chapters already written. Unfortunately, I lost most of my work after that during the Great Hard Drive Crash of 2014. I'm trying to recover what I lost, but it's hard work, and not helped by the fact that I haven't watched any Supernatural in the past couple of years. I feel like all of the lore is falling out of my head.
I'm advised by one of my readers that there are now grigori in Supernatural. I haven't seen any of that yet, so please don't spoil me if you have! And rest assured, Avariel (and the remainder of the grigori I intend to introduce in my fic) will be much cooler than whatever is in the show right now.
Thanks for reading.