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Between the Lines: Sequel to Somewhere Between	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 6046 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellboy or the characters within, and I don't make money off Hellboy or this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
When the thousand years are over, Satan will be released from his prison. ~Revelation 20:7

- John

It's so dark.

I roll onto my side and pain rips through my shoulder. Warmth rolls down my arm and ribcage; I can smell the metallic edge of my blood. Stronger than that is the scent of ancient earth and water. It's like the air itself is old, like a mineshaft that's been closed off from the world for decades, centuries even.

As my eyes adjust, I realize that it's really not that dark. There's a soft glow floating aimlessly amongst massive shapes that look like columns the size of buildings. In some places, the illumination is almost blue, becoming more brilliant spots of white and red near what I think is a ceiling. What little light reaches the ground is mottled like it's passed through an ocean of water.

Where am I?

Footsteps are approaching. They're muted by the mossy ground, almost too soft to hear. I spring onto my toes, but stay in a crouch, holding my balance with my fingertips. Everything comes into sharp focus as my senses settle and stretch out into my surroundings. My head is strangely clear.

I know, wherever I am, I'm in trouble. My last memory is of HB's face, his mouth open with a yell I can't hear and masses of wolves like a wall between us. I've got to be with Demegov, which means there won't be much I can do against him. As long as he has the mark on my skin, he can control me like a puppet. I wonder if I could gouge it off?

Demegov emerges from the shadows, coming around on the broad pillars. A growl rumbles in my chest.

"Welcome to Eden, John," he says, gesturing widely at our surroundings.

Eden? This can't be Eden. I crane my neck to see the tops of the columns, but they disappear into the darkness what seems like miles above us. One of the pillars is directly behind me. As much as I want to explore, I don't want to tear my eyes off of him. If we're in Eden, then why hasn't he committed whatever ritual he needed me for?

I back up slowly until my fingers make contact with the column. The texture is distinct and heavily defined. It feels like… bark? My god, are these things trees? I can't help myself; I have to turn to get a better look. It is bark, so gnarled and black that the tree seems to be wrapped in alligator hide. I run my fingers lightly over the surface, hissing when a splinter catches in my thumb.

The whole tree seems to groan. I jump away, but my escape is very short. Something trips me up and I fall on my back in the moss. There's a root as big around as an elephant's leg sticking out of the ground. I know it wasn't there before.

While I stare, wide-eyed, a new branch grows out of the tree's side, stretching towards me with clawed hands. My breath hitches. As it gets close, something buds on one of the closest twigs. It swells and becomes a kaleidoscope of color, morphing rapidly through a brilliant spectrum until it settles on a deep shade of red. It's a fruit.

The branch curls slightly, bringing the tempting fruit just within my reach. It smells amazing, like a produce aisle when everything is in season. I can't pin down any one… Dear god, I know what this is.

I pull my hand away from the branch, not even realizing that I'd reached for it, and scramble to my feet. Demegov is laughing at me.

"You're already fully aware of good and evil, so eating it won't do much to you."

"No thanks," I mumble, ashamed that I'd very nearly fallen for the original temptation.

He leans in, a smile on his face like he might eat me, and whispers, "You should see what it does when it gets a mouthful of blood."

My heart drops. But wait, just anybody's blood? There wouldn't be any reason that it would react purely to werewolf blood, let alone mine in particular. Why does he need me?

"What does it do when it gets blood?" I ask, trying to find the last piece of the puzzle.

Demegov goes around me and my heart starts beating again. I turn to catch him slowly sliding his hands over the tree, like they were old lovers. It's kind of weird. He's involved enough that I get a chance to look around for a way out. I'm about as far from an expert as you can get concerning Eden, but I do know that the exit is supposed to be in the east. It's referenced in more than just the bible.

I stay low and move away from him. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure he's still… involved, I duck behind one of the less evil trees and make a run for it. My sense of direction isn't awesome, but as long as I'm moving away from Demegov, I'm happy.

I reach a wall of thick vines that crawl off into the darkness in every direction except to my right. There's a soft red glow so far off that it's almost out of sight, but it's a good bet. I stay at a jog, scanning the ghostly shadows of the trees for any sign of Demegov. He doesn't seem like he's following me. He actually doesn't seem like he's after me at all. Am I missing something?

As the light grows, I pick up my pace. It looks like the pale glow of a sunset or a fire. I'm hoping it's a sunset so I'll be able to disappear outside until I can get some help or establish my bearings. The wall of growth drifts away from the trees and I follow the line. As I round a sharp corner, I realize that the light is not remotely promising.

A massive, armored being is standing in the tunnel like a sentry, with six wings that block the way around him. The orange glow is from the fire that drips off the unsheathed sword he's got planted in the ground in front of him. I careen to a stop just inches from him, close enough that my labored breathing is ruffling the downy feathers where the wings meet his back.

With the sharp sound of metal grinding against metal, the massive figure turns his head. I can't tell whether or not he's looking at me through the dark slits of his helm, but I get the distinct feeling that I'll be in serious shit if he is.

I back up slowly, feeling my way with the soles of my feet to ensure that I'm not going to step on anything noisy. I only realize after my chest starts to burn that I'm not breathing. My silence doesn't seem to matter. He yanks the sword out of the ground and swings it up onto his shoulder, tucking his wings carefully out of the way. The dark slit of his helm seems to hone in on me and his attention isn't a question anymore.

I let the air back into my lungs in a rush that makes me lightheaded. My eyes flick to the thin strips of freedom on either side of him. He can't be too fast. I could probably squeeze past him, but that sword makes me nervous. If I'm wrong about how quickly he can fling that weapon around, he could cut me in two before I get close.

The angel (if that's what he is) flares out his wings and lunges towards me with speed I wasn't anticipating. I'm glad I didn't make a run for it. I barely manage to scrabble out of the way as the sword slams into the ground in a shower of sparks. The heat is so intense that blisters crop up on my leg before the pain can register.

I roll to the side and dig my toes and fingers into the moss for purchase. The blade hisses through the air behind me. My wolf pulses under my skin, but it's given me too much trouble over the past few days to be trustworthy. Without it though, I don't know how I can fight him. I can barely stay a step ahead of him.

White explodes behind my eyes as the tip of the blade catches my side. A yelp rips out of me and I drop to the ground, clutching the wound. I can hear my skin kissing, smell the rancid, stomach churning stench of burned flesh. I have to move! He'll use this moment for the killing blow.

Biting down on my pain, I roll across the moss. The head flows against my back a heartbeat later and I can feel the force of the sword hitting the ground. I've got a second while he's pulling the sword out of the earth and manage to get back to my feet. My side is aching, but not bleeding. It's cauterized. That's good for humans, but bad for werewolves. It'll take me twice as long to heal.

The six-winged angel raises his sword high over his head. It puts him off balance, but it's definitely a blow meant to finish me. I tense to make my move.

A voice cuts through the air, "Akariel, stop!"

He freezes mid swing, which seems like an amazing feat considering the size of his weapon. Nothing moves but the fire. As Demegov comes towards us, the angel adjusts his stance and slams the blade back into the ground, folding his gauntlets on top of the ruby-tipped handle. To have that kind of influence over a being so powerful, Demegov either has one of his symbols on this angel (which I doubt), or he's not what we thought.

Demegov crosses between us, addressing the angel with what looks like a respectful bow, "I brought him here, Akariel. His presence is unfortunate, but required."

Stunned, I watch Eden's guardian return the respect and tromp back to the garden's entrance.

"You're not a demon, are you?" I ask, barely managing to force my voice above a whisper.

His steely gaze lands on me like a hammer, a crooked, knowing smile pulling at his mouth. "If I were a demon, this wouldn't be possible."

I narrow my eyes at him, running my mental encyclopedia of monsters for any ideas. The only thing that fits his interaction with the Seraphim is that he's an angel himself… Can that be right? An angel has boundaries, rules… Why would he attack us? How could he attack us? Veldex was definitely a demon and that would mean that he is aligned with Hell, but the angel at the entrance has no idea.

"You're an angel," I venture.

The way his eyes widen slightly confirms it. His cool composure returns instantly, but I saw the crack in his façade. "I belong to Heaven, yes. Some would argue with you about how angelic I am."

My thoughts are rushing almost too quickly to grasp. What purpose would my blood have to an angel? There are hundreds of thousands of wolves in the world, so why me? The realization comes like a slow dawn, edging across my other thoughts with incredible enlightenment.

"This isn't about me, is it? You're using me to get to Hellboy."

His grin is so wide that his molars glint in the guardian's firelight, "Now you've got it." He turns away, clearly not concerned that I could run off. I'd never get past Akariel.

He continues, "In his true form, Anung un Rama is magnificent. Because of you, his bloodlust came out hand in hand with his destructiveness. And, without you, he will fulfill his purpose. All I need to do is provide one of the doorways and the apocalypse will spill out across the earth and wipe it clean."

"Why would you want that?"

The line of his shoulders gets rigid. He grasps his hands behind his back and I get the feeling I've touched a nerve. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be unable to fulfill your purpose?"

That's got to be rhetorical. I open my mouth slightly, but give up on answering him. There's nothing I could saw that would make him give up whatever vendetta he's holding on to.

"Of course not," he hisses, seeming to get more imposing as he get angrier. "But you will soon enough. You will be the catalyst that changes the world."

My mouth gets dry. I want to scream that HB wouldn't be that way, that he could hold strong against this creature's twisted plot, but I'm not so sure he can. There are very thin ties binding Anung un Rama in his subconscious and if I'm gone, I'm not sure that the others will hold him.

I imagine millions of lives screaming inside a burning city, a cry that's echoed across the world. If Hellboy ever came to his senses, he'd be devastated by what he'd done. Protecting human life is what he has built his existence around, a purpose his father helped him realize. I've brought him off the brink before, but I'm not sure what will happen if I'm the reason he falls off the edge.

Silently, I ask God for a little help, certain He has some stake in these events.

"It took me longer to get my mark on you than I anticipated, but we're making our way forward now. Anung un Rama has his guide and should be arriving shortly."

"What guide?"

Demegov comes close enough that I can see the flakes of gold in his eyes. I try to take a step back, but he grabs the hair at the base of my head and yanks me towards him.

"You have no idea how long I've been tangled in your life."

- HB

My aches are starting to fade by the time we land in Turkey. I'm not a hundred percent, not even close, but I'm strong enough to stay upright. It's all I need to kick some ass.

Abe is at my elbow as we de-board. He's worried and won't fucking shut up about it. I don't bother telling him that I'm not staying on the plane while he and the others play scavenger hunt in the desert. I'm pretty sure he can glean that fact from what I'm thinking.

When I can't take it anymore, I stop and turn on him, "Shut. The hell. Up. I'd rather drop dead on my feet, so can we move on now?"

I stalk off. It takes Abe a couple seconds to follow, but he's completely silent now. I have to squint as we get out of the shadow of the plane. Everything is brighter than I'm used to. As my eyes adjust, I can make out the heavy line of mountains to the east of us. The town we've landed in is a decent size. What's the word for it… quaint, I guess.

The garbage truck is going to be really fucking conspicuous.

"You're right, but we are not going in the truck. Leonitus saw fit to ship us a hummer. It was en route quite some time before us, so it should arrive shortly."

"Good," I grunt, sticking a cigar in the corner of my mouth.

Torque is lugging one of our armory trunks out onto the tarmac. Once he's dropped it and gone back for something else, I slide onto the ground next to the box and lean back against the corrugated metal. There's not a lot to do while we're waiting for the car.

The agents we brought along are securing the perimeter so we don't have a random airport employee stumble across us with a slack jaw. Eon looks like she's drawing a grid on a map. I'm sure she'll have some elaborate search plan attacked to those squares, but it won't be relevant for awhile.

My shirt is wet. I press my flesh fingers to it, bringing them away to rub blood between my thumb and index finger. I must've torn something when I was getting off the plane. When I realize I'm bleeding, my pain sorta' focuses on that one wound. I'm grateful for it. I press my hand to the gash more firmly, letting the pain gloss over my thoughts.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I must've dozed, 'cause when the plane comes roaring over our heads, the sun's getting close to the horizon.

"Damn," I mutter.

The long ash of my cigar falls off onto my stone arm. It's burned down to a nub and it's the only one I've got. I can't make myself care. I want to, I want to bitch and yell until I'm hoarse, but I've gotta' save that energy for later.

I haul myself to my feet, stifling a groan, and watch the cargo plane screech to a stop. It makes an awkward turnaround to start taxiing back to us.

"You're bleeding again." I turn a glare onto Abe and he changes topics quickly, "We're going to the mouth of the Tigris first. The surrounding area might conceal an entrance."

"As long as I don't have to swim," I let my words drip with sarcasm.

Abe chuckles a little, "I think I can handle any swimming that might come up."

Two military hummers roll out of the cargo bay the moment it opens. The windows are so dark that they may as well be mirrors. These cars are new, probably shipped in from a local base and modified a little. Agent Keeves steps out of the lead vehicle and grins, "Pretty kick ass, huh?"

I stop a foot from him, holding out my hand, "Cigar."

"But what about-"

"Give me a damn cigar," I growl.

I can almost hear 'Scout in the back of my head, scolding me. Be nice. My stomach churns and I drop my hand to my side. Keeves is digging through his coat pocket, but I don't really want the cigar anymore.

I climb into the back of the humvee, stretching my legs out in front of me. Abe, Lazarus, and Torque pile in after me, forcing me to pull my knees to my chest. Pain shoots across my left thigh and my ribcage.

If we get through this, John and I are going on a fucking vacation. I don't care if Leonitus has to shut down half a city to keep things under wraps, but I want to be away from the bureau for awhile. No idea where we'll go, but we're going to go.

"That seems a bit rash, but I suspect that Leonitus can work something out."

"Stay out of it," I grumble at Abe.

We've been butting heads a lot lately. It's probably more me than him. I should get him a rotten egg when we get back, maybe play some cards or something.

"That would be lovely," Abe admits with a tiny smile.

Despite all the shit the last few days have thrown at us, I smile back.

The truck hits a bump as we leave the tarmac and Torque's horn punches a hole through the roof. We all lean forward a little to peer at the ragged rip in the metal. This thing can barrel through gunfire and mild explosions, so that's pretty impressive.

"Did that hurt?" I ask.

Torque shrugs and says, "Not really."

Doesn't surprise me. Torque and I are a lot alike when it comes to taking hits. Difference is if I'm a hummer, he's a tank. He can hit a little harder and take a little more abuse. Either way, when you throw in the fact that everybody else is just infantry, the comparison makes more sense.

I motion at the tattoos crawling up his face, "What's the story behind all this? What'd you learn in Africa?"

He grins like a maniac. The story that follows is too insane to believe. He talks about his brothers and his homeland, about the twisted witch that brought them to life. His abilities were something he had to learn to control, but he can do just about anything with the ground. That's what I saw outside the bakery, his crazy tectonic telekinetic whatever-it's-called. Lazarus throws in the title God of Destruction, which is what the witch called him before he was taken to England as a child.

"We'll have to meet your brothers sometime," I mention offhandedly.

Torque and Lazarus stare at me and I start to think I've missed something. Finally, Lazarus clears his throat, "They're a different story."

I arch my eyebrow, "You don't get along, they're assholes, what?"

"They're not very…" Torque hesitates and scratches the top of his head.

"His brothers are highly aggressive," Abe supplies when Torque can't seem to find the word for it.

Lazarus looks out one of the tiny windows and adds, "More like homicidal."

"Nile's not so bad; it's Sahara you have to worry about. You hear about the lions attacking London?"

I actually had heard about that. The news eventually wrote it off as a rogue group of lions that escaped from a local zoo, but no zoo in the area ever housed a pride so big. "That was him?"

Torque nods.

"Shit, he killed a lot of people," I mutter, trailing off.

Some new conversation starts, Abe asking about Lazarus's kid, and I can't fake interest anymore. Outside, people are staring at our cars as they pass like we're part of a fucking parade. Some seemed scared, others just curious. This little town probably doesn't see anyone from America but tourists, so I guess staring is understandable. Leonitus will have to do some cover-up about our presence here. Military training exercise would be the best excuse.

The buildings start to thin as we reach the outskirts of town. We're going uphill now, must've reached the mountains. The road narrows to the point that one car has to pull over so the opposing traffic can pass. Our big-ass humvees take up the whole road and then some.

"We're leaving the road, so it's going to get a little rough. Hang on," Keeves warns us.

We've already been bouncing all over the cab, so what's the big deal? The first time I slide against the door and pain explodes through me, I eat those words. It's much worse off the road. Humvees have heavy-duty suspension, but these mountains are all rocks. I'm half expecting us to get stuck on something.

We go for miles. I stop wincing every time I tear something open. Abe runnin' into me isn't so bad, but I feel bad for Lazarus. Every time we change directions too quickly, Torque squashes him against the door. I can hear things breaking.

Ahead of us, Eon's car is slowing down.

"Looks like we are not going to need to search too hard, they're coming to us," Abe says quietly, his hand going to his gun.

"What?"

A half second after the question leaves my mouth, a werewolf leaps onto the hood of the humvee. The metal collapses under the force of it and a fracture sprints across the windshield. Keeves yells, going for his gun. Apparently, it never crossed his mind that a military vehicle has bulletproof glass. The shot goes nuts, ricocheting back into the cab. It grazes Abe's shoulder and sinks into Lazarus's chest. Better him than one of us.

"God damn it, Keeves!" I yell and yank the door open.

A wolf lunges for me as soon as my feet hit the ground. I shield my eyes against the sun with my flesh hand, waiting until he's close enough for me to smash him with my stone one. The others scramble out of the car behind me. Lazarus is hacking up blood. He spits the bullet into his hand with a triumphant grin just before a wolf takes him down.

The furry fuckers have swarmed Eon's car. I don't think anybody got a chance to get out. I grab one of Torque's ears to get his attention and point at the mob.

"Let's go," is all I say.

We charge over. He's yelling. We start picking them off, shooting them, crushing them, but it's like there's an endless supply of them. We manage to get one of the doors cleared off and Zachary squeezes out. He slams it shut behind him, catching the arm of a shaggy, gray animal. I grab the wolf by the scruff and toss him to the side.

"We've got to be close if these bastards are here," Zachary says, shifting one hand so he ran rip an auburn wolf's skin off like paper. "You go on, we'll take care of them."

I hesitate, but only for a second. "Watch Abe's back," I order as I work my way through the hoard. A few new wounds appear, but I've already got so many that it doesn't matter much.

It's easy enough to follow the trail of wolves back to the source. They're still coming out of a tiny cave in a trickle. We had to have killed most of this damn pack, where do they keep coming from? He's gotta' be infecting people as he goes.

Something falls on my shoulder and I whirl, my stone hand cocked back to slam whatever it is. Lazarus flinches, throwing his arms up to defend himself.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask and drop my fist.

Lazarus shrugs, "I think I can be more help to you than I can to them."

"You can't remember jack shit about this place," I remind him.

"Well," he pauses to gore a wolf that was at my back, pulling the sword back to lop of its head. "Maybe something will come to me."

I stare at him with obvious disbelief until he starts to fidget.

"Alright, that's not going t happen, but I least I can watch your arse."

"Arse?"

"Oh shut up. Let's go."

Lazarus leads the way, which I'm mildly grateful for. It's damn dark inside the cave and there are still wolves here and there. They see much better than we do in the dark, but Lazarus gets the brunt of their attacks. As soon as a wolf jumps him, I can haul it off and kill it. His wounds heal much faster than mine can.

As we get farther along, the wolves stop coming. I can hear rushing water. It's loud, but I don't see it.

"That river's gotta' be around here somewhere," I mutter and light a match. It goes out instantly. "Damn."

The tunnel is long and narrow. In the brief moment of light, I hadn't seen any turns. Lazarus stops and I run into him.

"What the-"

"The river, the river is how I got in the first time," he says softly.

Great… swimming. "There's gotta' be another way."

"There was fire at the real entrance," he seems certain now. Maybe he is going to remember everything.

I probably sound smug, but it's the only advantage I've had so far this trip, "I can handle fire."

The tunnel slopes sharply and branches in three directions. It takes me a second to realize that there's light here. We've gotta' be going in the right direction. I narrow my eyes and go to the opening at the far left. The glow is coming from here.

"This way," I tell Lazarus.

Two steps into the branch, I hear a massive crack and the ground shifts under my feet. I look over my shoulder at Lazarus, who's frozen. His eyes lift from the stone to my face.

"Bollocks," he manages to get out just before the rock gives way beneath us.

We don't freefall long, but we land in water. Oh, shit. My stone arm sinks, dragging me down. The current pulls hard at me. When my hand reaches the bottom, I trail along the bottom, knocking rocks and dirt loose. I breathe out the air in my lungs. My chest tightens.

No.

Fuck no!

This is not where it ends. I can't die a hundred yards from the finish line. John needs me. I dig my fingers into the silt of the riverbed, catching a boulder. For a moment, I can't think of what to do. I see another big ass rock in the direction I think (I hope) of the shore. I stretch my other hand out to grab it.

I slip when I go for the next one and the water gets muddy. The current takes it away. Lazarus's hands close on my arm, hauling me along, helping me. We both continue to slide along at the mercy of the current until I get my feet beneath me.

I inhale water. I'm too close to give in now. I fight off unconsciousness and my head breaks the surface of the water. Choking and coughing, I let Lazarus pull me into the shallows. We drag ourselves onto the narrow bank and drop our backs against the cave wall.

"Found it," Lazarus laughs, but it degrades into a hacking cough.

I glare at him.

It's lighter in this part of the cave. It's a weird glow, and I can't figure out where it's coming from. After I catch my breath, I get to my feet, looking both directions down the river. I offer Lazarus my hand.

"Which way do we go?" I ask.

Lazarus takes my offering and I yank him upright, "Well, the river is supposed to well in Eden, so we go in the opposite direction of the current."

Seems logical to me so I start walking. The bank sorta' comes and goes, but we're never trudging through more than a foot of water. I think I've earned some serious sex for this. Sure, I've saved John's ass more than once, but this has got to be the most difficult rescue operation ever. I'm not even sure what I'm going to fight with when we get to Eden, I lost half of my damn gear in the river.

If this guy has left so much as a bruise on John… not that I'd know if he did with the way John heals… No, this guy's caused enough trouble already. I don't care if I get there and they've made fucking amends, I'm going to kick Demegov's ass.

The roof is getting lower. Crap. It bumps against the stubs of my horns a couple times, forcing me to lean over while I walk. The water is coming up the other way, nearly to my knees now. I'm starting to get a little nervous about this.

"You sure we can get there this way?" I ask pointedly.

Lazarus runs his fingers over the roof and shrugs, "When I was here last, all of this was out in a field. Eden was surrounded by a bloody lot of nothing."

When I'm bent almost in half and shuffling through waist deep water that's trying to take my feet out from under me, everything opens up. I duck under the last ridge of rock, and then there are trees the size of buildings. They're spaced far enough apart that you could put a semi lengthwise between each one. It looks almost like an orchard for giants. Not that giants keep orchards, I've fought a few after all, but I've never seen trees this damn big.

Beside me, Lazarus whistles, "This is not the Eden I remember."

"Welcome, Anung un Rama and Keeper," a voice sounds from everywhere and nowhere. I can't pin down the source.

"Who's this Keeper?" Lazarus asks, shooting a glance to me.

I don't know what to say. I study the area for Demegov and for John, sloshing through the water to stand on solid ground. Nothing moves in the trees. I wouldn't expect to find much wildlife in a place like this, but it's too still. No forest is this quiet. Lazarus and I slowly make our way into the garden.

The voice comes again, but this time I'm almost certain it's directly in front of us, "You are the keeper of memories, silent witness to the deeds of man. You will be most important at the end of all things. You are Lazarus, a miracle, a man, and guide to the prince of Hell."

"I'm going to assume that's me," I grumble.

Lazarus hangs a little more on his words than I do, "Keeper of memories? I can't remember what I had for breakfast – who would expect me to retell the deeds of man?"

He doesn't get an answer.

They come into view as we round one of the trees. John is in wolf form, his shoulder dripping blood from that damn mark. He's sitting at Demegov's feet and the fucking bastard acts like he owns him, smiling while he pets John's ears.

"That's the tree of knowledge," Lazarus whispers and motions at the tree behind them. It's so big and dark that I can barely tell that it's a plant. His brow furrows, "But where's the tree of life?"

I don't really give a shit where the tree of life is. Even if it's right where it's supposed to be, it wouldn't be much good. He needs to focus.

Vaguely, I catch the sound of the others. They're shouting and there's a huge thud. Demegov doesn't take his eyes off me. Zachary is yelling orders, probably Eon's orders, and Torque bellows.

"Holy…" Lazarus starts and I have to look.

Torque is wrestling with an angel with six wings. The angel is almost as tall as Torque, heavily armored and well trained. They're matching blows. The angel's sword is on fire, sparking every time it hits Torque's mace.

"Go help them," I tell Lazarus.

He nods and tears off across the garden, though I'm not sure what he plans on doing once he gets there. I turn back to Demegov. He draws a long, narrow blade out of a sheath in his coat and winds his fingers in John's fur.

"Now you will become what you were always meant to be," he says, bringing the knife to John's throat.

TBC…

I promise not to drown anyone in the foreseeable future. I know they've had more than one run in with deep water.

The story is coming close to the end now. Should only be one more chapter before things get wrapped up on this one. I'm almost done with school, so I'm hoping to have plenty of time to work.
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Between the Lines: Sequel to Somewhere Between