Fall From Grace, page 34
part #9 of the Preternatural Chronicles Series
As the dawn crested the Houston skyline, dusk was building up the courage to do what it has always done in Germany.
Lolth looked at the afternoon sky, bathing in the warmth of the sun even as it had already began falling toward the horizon, and marveled at the feeling.
Her entire existence had consisted of hating the sun and longing for nothing more than to extinguish all light in the universe and all planes therein. But here, now, amid the indescribable feeling of warmth caressing the flesh that had once belonged to Jose Villalobos, Lolth had a change of heart.
Samael had asked Lolth to retrieve two things: the armor, which had been almost too easy to take, and the nine-inch nail that had once pierced Christ’s body, lost by the foolish werewolf in the explosion that had sent him back in time—albeit with a little intervention from Satan himself.
Stepping toward a large tree that seemed to have sprouted bigger than all those around it, Lolth looked with her purple eyes to precisely where Samael had indicated.
A Cheshire grin impossibly formed on the human face of Jose, presenting an unnatural smile atop skin the color of shadows.
Lifting an arm, Lolth wrapped tight fingers around the nail, which had been imbedded deep in the bark of the tree, and pulled.
The tree groaned in protest as the holy relic was separated from the bark, and leaves began to fall all at once—a mass suicide at the loss of holy power.
Lolth regarded the relic at arm’s length, turning it over in her grasp as the copious corpses drifted toward the ground, covering the Shadow goddess.
An obsidian sword sprang to life where the nail had just been in Lolth’s fist, hellfire wafting up to burn the falling leaves in an outward wave.
The smile on Lolth’s face defied what was humanly possible, fully stretching from ear to ear as purple eyes seemed to sparkle with malice.
Samael had asked the Shadow goddess to retrieve the armor and nail, and she had—but he had neglected to provide further instruction on what to do after. Implying he wanted the items for himself just wasn’t good enough, Lolth decided.
Where once the desire to bathe the universe in darkness had been the goddess of shadows’ only motivation, now she saw a new possibility that had been all but impossible before the Lord of Hell had foolishly gifted her with the body of Jose. The second phase of the were-pire virus complemented her own powers to the point where Lolth felt compelled to change her desires.
Looking to the now barren tree that stood like a giant skeleton among the lush forest, Lolth set down the bag of celestial armor and lifted her free hand to the landscape shaded by countless trees.
The entire ground writhed as incorporeal shadows reached up, pulling free a variety of creatures from Lolth’s congregation.
A mass of monsters stood in the shade of the forest, looking at one another with purple eyes that seemed unsure of the looming sun, low as it was in the sky.
“Come to me, my children. Come and experience our bright future.”
Even on incorporeal faces comprised of shadow, nervous glances could be seen as eyes flicked from one to the other. But Lolth was not to be denied, and her children loved her completely.
One of the foremost creatures stepped forward and into the light, recoiling as the sun coated its being.
The ethereal body began to solidify, filling in the darkness with flesh and bone.
The creature, and all those on the forest, watched in fascination as the sun gave new life to the denizens of Shadow.
Lolth pocketed the nail and picked up the bag that rested at her feet.
One by one, the children of Lolth left the comfort of the darkness and entered into a new existence, marveling at the warmth and power of the sun.
As the last of her children were gifted with more resilient bodies, Lolth dropped the now empty bag and held the last piece of armor in her eager hands.
Lifting the celestial helmet over her head, Lolth eased the final piece on, reconnecting the set once more.
Jagged, onyx spikes grew like varying sizes of stalagmites, tips sharper than any blade, as the armor darkened to absolute blackness. The only parts of the set that weren’t the color of midnight were the identical skulls sitting atop either shoulder and locked in a perpetual scream.
“It is time to burn this universe down. And from the ashes, a new one will rise.”
A chorus of chitters erupted as the children of the night were born into the day.
EPILOGUE PART TWO
“You lost control over the Ether, Hecate, and almost let in one of them. And for what? To save a single child?” Elder Gryff boomed with a flushed face and an accompanying slam of his thick fist on the High Council’s deliberation table.
“Not just any child, Elder Gryff,” Hecate answered, exhaustion straining her voice. Having nearly a decade of her already strained life transferred to Warden Broadway’s child weighed heavily on her, mentally and physically.
“Riiiiiight,” Elder Gryff, the Red Cloak, drawled in his Southern accent. “The child of the young warden and the cowardly deity.”
As if the entire room had been transported into an industrial freezer, the five Council members’ breath began to visibly plume.
Nervous eyes glanced around to anxious faces; all except Hecate, who slowly turned her head toward the corner of the room. A child, no older than ten, sat on the stone floor. Shadows obscured her features except for her eyes, which appeared to glow an electric blue.
“How the hell did she get in here?” Elder Gryff demanded with harshly whispered words coated in indignation.
Ignoring the question, Hecate carefully eased herself up and made her way to the corner of the room as the other Elders simply watched with unsure eyes.
“Hello, child,” Hecate greeted warmly as she came to a gentle stop a few paces from where the girl had appeared from the shadows. Eyes that mirrored lightning frozen in twin glass orbs stared up with calculating intelligence, like a predator at the top of the food chain.
With her kind greeting, Hecate took note that her breath no longer plumed.
The pair stared at one another, discovering and digesting a bond that flowed between them; a connection born from sacrifice and the essence of life itself.
The girl smiled, and the predatory gleam in her eyes faded to an innocence that only a child—unspoiled by the realities of the cruel world—could have.
“Would you like to come with me?” Hecate asked warmly with a smile that seemed to brighten the room.
The wizard, an Elder both in age and rank, extended a hand to the child, palm up.
Feeling the palpable connection between the two, the girl nodded excitedly while grunting her acknowledgment.
In that moment, Hecate knew they had a long road ahead of them in regard to growth and development. Yet, she still marveled at how coordinated the child was, considering she had just been born yesterday.
Every set of eyes in the room told a different story as the pair began to move toward the door. Some glared with distrust or wariness, while others held excitement at what could be.
Elder Tafoya, the Brown Cloak, began mentally preparing an appropriate training checklist to develop the child’s evident power. Turning to Elder Scymanky, she could see the Green Cloak was mirroring the mental preparations; though where Bennah had a neat and orderly checklist in order of importance from top to bottom, she knew that Amy would have a metaphorical whiteboard with an assortment of scribbles laid out in coincidental geometric patterns.
Daring a glance at the more critical and objective person of the High Council, Bennah saw Elder Carlyon, the Blue Cloak, shifting her eyes back and forth like a typewriter helmed by the Flash. Elder Tafoya knew the lawyer of the group was compiling a list of rules that all of them, including Hecate, must abide by—if voted in, that is; after all, it was why Elder Carlyon was placed in her position in the first place.
Letting her gaze fall on Elder Gryff, the Red Cloak, Bennah narrowed her eyes when she saw the man clearly dabbling with the idea of stopping a threat before it could form, even if it was a child.
Then Michael Gryff did something that made Elder Tafoya shudder; his expression went flat as a smile curved the corners of his lips and a malicious twinkle filled his eyes.
Elder Gryff, the military leader of the Council, had just made up his mind on what to do with the child who emanated untold power.
Glancing at Elder Scymanky with a worried expression, Elder Tafoya noticed the Green Cloak mirrored her trepidations.
Slowly turning their heads in unison back toward the Red Cloak, Elders Tafoya and Scymanky witnessed a grin that would wilt a field of flowers growing on the powerful and determined man.
Hecate and the girl left the room, leaving the Elders in complete silence as four minds worked to formulate plans of action.
There was a battle coming, and the prize was a child born from a wizard and the God of Thunder.
MAKE A DIFFERENCE
If you enjoyed this Urban Fantasy eulogy for Sir John Cook1, would you consider leaving an honest review? Every genuine review means the world to me, and helps new readers find my books.
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Thank you in advance for giving John unlife after death. The series dedicated to my bromego will be 13 full novels with a handful of novellas and short stories for good measure. So until next time, John On!
1 John is not actually knighted
ABOUT HUNTER BLAIN
Hunter Blain is an author and entrepreneur who has spent his entire adult life—before writing—in the retail industry. At the age of 24, Hunter became the youngest Regional Sales Director at GNC before joining one of the largest supplement companies in the world. He is swole, ladies and gentlemen. So. Swole. After a few years, he had accumulated enough knowledge, beard length, and confidence to open his own brick and mortar store, Empire Nutrition. As of 2020, Hunter is in the midst of franchising the business to budding entrepreneurs.
One day, a teenage Hunter went to visit his mother at work (because he’s a good son), and met a goddess in the flesh who went by the name Amanda. She was one of his mom’s coworkers, and Hunter’s own age. She also happened to be the most beautiful woman Hunter had ever seen. On an unrelated note, Hunter decided to visit his mom at work a whole lot more after encountering Amanda, and somehow convinced her to marry him after spending nearly a decade together. “Finally!” their family members screamed in exhausted relief at the wedding.
As of this writing, they live with their two adorable puppies, Bella and Shimmy. To shamelessly maximize fan adoration and awww factor, Hunter’s pit bull terrier, Shimmy, was one day away from being euthanized when Hunter swooped in to rescue her at the very last minute! He reminds Shimmy of this fact almost daily, demanding that she realize how lucky she is and to “get a job!” Shimmy is currently unemployed.
In 2018, Hunter began writing I’M GLAD YOU’RE DEAD, which is an Urban Fantasy eulogy for his childhood best friend, John Cook, who was taken from this world in a horrific car accident. Writing the novel was both cathartic and the fulfillment of a promise that Hunter had once made to John before his sudden passing. The PRETERNATURAL CHRONICLES is a way for John to live forever in the minds of countless readers across the world.
In June of 2020, Hunter signed on with Argento Publishing—run by the urban fantasy world’s greatest supervillain, Shayne Silvers—and the rest, as they say, is history.
Or…the future.
Get Down with Hunter Online. T-shirts, signed books, new release updates, and Hunter’s blog awaits at:
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BOOKS BY HUNTER BLAIN
PRETERNATURAL CHRONICLES
DELIVERANCE (Prequel novella #0)
I’M GLAD YOU’RE DEAD
DAWN AND QUARTERED
SHADOW OF A DOUBT
MOONLIGHT EQUILIBRIUM (Book 3.5)
MOUTH OF MADNESS
WHAT THE HELL
HOLY SHEOLY
THOSE WONDERFUL TOYS
CRACK THE SKY
FALL FROM GRACE
Audiobooks by Audible Hall of Fame narrator, Luke Daniels:
Listen to free samples HERE.
DELIVERANCE
I’M GLAD YOU’RE DEAD
DAWN AND QUARTERED
SHADOW OF A DOUBT
MOUTH OF MADNESS
HOLY SHEOLY
THOSE WONDERFUL TOYS
CRACK THE SKY
Hunter Blain, Fall From Grace
