Page 54 of Helsing: Demon Slayer
Whether they understood English or not little mattered. They apparently understood the muzzle of a handgun, at least long enough to pause.
And then several of the menacing strangers continued toward Dianne and Ryan.
Four hundred miles west in the Italian city of Prato, Liú Xiù eased from the lengthening shadows that hid her under the Porta Pistoiese and moved along the walls of the medieval monasteries lining the Via San Vincenzo. She touched a fingertip to the small, warm disc hidden under her blouse, praying to its patron to protect her from the lurking dangers.
The power had gone out earlier in the day in the industrial park of Macrolotto di Iolo, north of the Tuscan city’s Chinatown, known locally as Santo Beijing. Xiù had felt the invisible energy that rushed through the garment workshop that she managed for her cover as an immigrant owner of a medium-sized clothing exporter.
She’d known right away what it was: an electromagnetic pulse, or EMP, and wondered if a foreign agent had triggered a device to shut down the Chinese clothing industry in Italy—and along with it her operation. Now a rainbow of lights danced overhead in the night sky, and her St. Michael medal burned the skin of her chest.
This was no short-lived, ordinary high-voltage surge initiated by human antagonists.
It was a new era in the far-reaching and consequential war between St. Michael’s warriors on Earth and thedaemonicforces that plagued humanity.
And she was being recalled by her handler, from deep cover as a Chinese spy. Somehow, she must survive this new dystopian situation and find Olivia Markham, the American CIA officer that she’d saved in Macau more than a decade ago.
Fifteen
Milessatinthenearly empty Aerie, his chin in his hand, lost in worst-case scenarios that felt less hypothetical by the hour. Somehow over the last year since joining the Kastriotis and their merry band of demi-angels and an unbelievable bevy of devoted human assets, he’d started believing that the good guys could actually make a difference in the world without being corrupted first. Hell, he’d had to see more than a few miraculous things in order to believe in the ultimate good in the first place.
Yet Mihàil Kastrioti, the demi-angel commander of this group ofEliouddefenders of humanity, had seemed indomitable. Now he laid in a hospital bed, a large white patch where his left eye had been and severe burns over most of his body, burns that were worse than those scorched on his epidermis by an enragedkulshedër, a legendary seven-headed Albanian dragon once imprisoned by the Archangel Gabriel.
Miles was confronted with the real possibility that what he’d thought was the epic war-ending battle between the forces of Heaven and Hell only six months ago was simply the opening skirmish.
A young subordinate brought him a cup of fresh coffee without being asked.
Miles looked up at her. “Thanks, Greta.”
The young Danish woman had been rescued by Mihàil on a business trip and then recognized him as a former European playboy known for socializing with the Danish royal family. Obsessed with him, she’d read up as much as she could online about his life. It was during this self-imposed investigation that she realized that he matched a story that her grandfather had told her from when he was in secondary school and nearly drowned on a holiday in Greece. Her grandfather had believed he’d been saved by his guardian angel.
Greta, intrigued, had staked out Mihàil’s hotel and then caught him and Olivia as they attempted to sneak back into their room after an evening ofElioudheroics. She’d asked for a job, and thezotihad hired her on the spot.
As he watched the self-composed woman return to her ops station where she monitored reports from their network, Miles couldn’t help but be a bit envious. If only he’d been as prescient as a young man … but he could regret nothing because, as the saying went, the Creator writes straight with crooked lines, and, boy, howdy, had his life been filled with some crooked chapters. Yet now he was here working on behalf of the innocent with a squad of demi-angels, trying to redeem himself by writing a whole new book.
For a moment, green eyes in a frightened yet resolute face wavered before his mind’s eye. Tadeja had caught his attention while undercover for the Company. Nothing had ever felt as good as taking down the sex-trafficking operation that held her captive. He thought of the young Croatian woman often with a mix of regret and longing. He’d been aware that she’d returned his interest, but he also knew that it was better for her in the long run that he not pursue anything more with her. He’d checked on Tadeja every now and then, and she’d been happy and safe working as a general manager of a high-end resort on the island of Hvar. He hoped she was still safe, but there was no way for him to find out. Their asset network didn’t include the island.
Miles pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long, deep sip of the potent brew.
Hot coffee. Sign that the apocalypse hadn’t arrived after all.
For a start, it meant they had full power at the Kastrioti estate as well as in Fushë-Arrëz. At minimum, it meant that Mihàil not only got the medical care he needed, but Dr. Armand had been able to layer on additional harmonic therapy with Willem’s help. Anywhere else in the world without power after the flare, all those patients in hospitals, in surgery or using life-saving equipment …
“We will be fine,bello,” said a husky female voice, its warm tones soothing the aching muscles at the back of his neck and rejuvenating him, despite the late hour and his unending shift. “We have been preparing for the worst ever since Asmodeus set Kôkabîêl free from his underground prison.”
Miles looked toward the door of the TOC where Stasia Kos stood with her husband Miró. The diminutive Italian, whose swollen belly attested to how close she was to giving birth to her first child, radiated concern and understanding. On the other hand, her husband’s almost-inhuman light-blue stare gave nothing away.
Miles sat upright, his back straight, and set the coffee cup onto his desk. “Ma’am,” he said, nodding at her. He looked at Miró, who watched him much as a wolf watched its prey. Miles held theElioud’sstare without flinching. “Sir. I didn’t expect either of you in the ops center this late.”
Miró nodded. “Understood. Given the situation, however, we thought it best to talk to you about the command structure going forward. András and Beta will join us in the conference room in a few minutes for a sitrep and planning.”
This wasn’t entirely unexpected. Miró, despite running the burgeoning research and development of the new Kastrioti Security Group, remained Mihàil’s most seniorElioudlieutenant after thezonjë. But the Croat needed to get the helicopter and other ground-based vehicles operational. With Helsing in the field on a recovery mission, he would likely be transferring general command of their human forces to András to relieve Olivia, who was exhausted and torn between her nursing infant and wounded husband.
Miles stood and followed theElioudcouple to the door of the operations center. As he passed Greta’s desk, he said, “Greta, I’ll be in the conference room. You’re in charge here until I come back. Forward all of the incoming situation reports to the conference-room display so that I can review them with theElioud. If you get time, ask Stefan to go to the kitchen and have something sent up for everyone to eat. I know you missed dinner.”
Greta gave a single, sharp dip of her head. “Yes, sir.”
As Miles caught up with Miró and Stasia, he caught a secretive smile on the former operative’s face. Working around her always unsettled him a bit, as if she understood him better than he did himself.
Inside the room, the large Hungarian sat on one side of the polished mahogany table while his wife paced around the space next to him, an Indonesian fighting knife called akarambitflashing between her hands in a deadly display. Miles had long had the impression that she practiced opening and closing the hooked blade of the knife to keep from sinking her own claws into anyone who annoyed her.
