Sentinels of creation a.., p.21
Sentinels of Creation: A Scion of Amber Light, page 21
“The medivac jarhead?” asked Holden.
Pullo nodded. “Never met her myself, but she was choppering injured Marines out of these hills while you four were figuring out who to take to prom.”
“That right?” asked Bobrovski. “You know Meghan Daugherty? The Meghan Daugherty who got shredded by werewolves in Sanmagan province then came back to fuck them all up years later….that Meghan Daugherty?”
“They know about werewolves, Kellan,” lilted Shannon.
“I do have ears, Highlander,” replied the Sentinel.
Pullo gestured from Kellan to Bobrovski, then popped the last bit of cookie in his mouth. “He’s the one who was with her when they took out Sargon.”
All four Seals shared a look, and Holden said, “But Chief, if that’s true, then—”
Pullo stood and clapped Kellan on the shoulder, “Yep, he’s the damned Sentinel of Order.”
“My head hurts,” whispered Shannon.
Kellan pointed to Holden, “Now, don’t you feel guilty for moving into the rear kill position while your mates were trying to distract us with their piss-poor banter?”
Holden sucked air through his teeth, then spat. “Not at all. What I would have felt bad about is wasting good ammunition. From what the Chief’s said, shooting you is a losing proposition.”
“The Chief has an exceptionally big mouth,” laughed Kellan.
“Noted, sir,” replied Holden.
Kellan extended a hand. “Kellan Thorne. Nice to meet you Mr. Holden, but don’t call me sir. Kellan’s fine.”
“Honored to meet you, Kellan. I’m David.” He looked past the Sentinel and inclined his head to Pullo. “Chief, you want to make the intros?”
The Roman waved aside the question. “You’re on a roll Holden, keep it going.”
Holden gestured to Miller and Thompson. “Those rather vacant looking gentlemen are Petty officers second class James Miller and William Thompson.”
Miller inclined his head slightly, but otherwise remained unmoving. William extended his hand. “Billy,” he said, “and I have to tell you, this is totally awesome. Honestly, I thought the Chief was just bullshitting us with the whole Sentinel of Order thing but—”
“I’m Kat,” interrupted Bobrovski, as she pushed in front of Thompson. She cocked her head and gave the Sentinel a crooked smile. “I thought you would be taller.”
“Thanks,” replied Kellan, “Given that you look and hold yourself like a taller, blonder, Meghan Daugherty, you’re just how I thought you’d be…a bitch.”
Silence descended on them as Kat’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Kellan kept his face even, lips slightly curved. The two stared at each other for several seconds, then Kat said. “Again, with the Meghan Daugherty. Let me ask you this, Kellan Thorne, Sentinel of Order. How would the vaunted Captain Daugherty react to being called a bitch?” Kellan smiled as Bobrovski’s feet shifted slightly. Her hand blurred and half a second later, Kat held her tactical dagger next to Kellan’s throat. He glanced down, then locked eyes with the Seal. She swallowed unconsciously, but said, “Your glowing eyes on me versus my MK3 against your carotid. I’d rather be me.”
Kellan barked a laugh, “Meghan would have reacted just like you, which is, of course, why your knife isn’t actually against my throat.” He saw her eyes widen, first questioningly and then in alarm as he jerked his neck against the blade. Ripples of green energy extended around the knife’s edge as Kellan’s shield flexed beneath it.
The Sentinel kept his eyes on Kat and lifted his right hand. She glanced at the open palm. Green mist gathered just above it, and a gleaming longsword fell into his waiting hand. He gripped it and the sword shrank into its Bilbo Baggins Sting form. He pointed its tip at her tactical knife, which she now held casually by her side. “You call that a knife?” he asked in a horribly mangled Australian accent, then flashed his Sentinel’s dagger, “This is a knife!”
Pullo chortled from behind them. “You are too clever by half, Kellan Thorne. Everyone on my team is under twenty-five years old, with Kat being the youngest. They are not going to appreciate your Crocodile Dundee reference.”
For her part, Kat seemed to have already lost interest in Kellan’s display. She brushed past him and stopped in front of Shannon. The Seal stood about half a head taller. She nodded thoughtfully as her gaze washed over the Soulborn, from head to toe. “So you must be Shannon McLeod, the Soulborn of Order.”
“Aye,” replied Shannon, “but it’s Shannon McLeod Thorne now. I married the daft man, so I’m pretty well stuck with him.”
Kat smirked, then pointed at Shannon’s chest. “I really like those. Where did you get them?”
Shannon’s eyes glinted with an emotion Kellan knew all too well. “These,” she said, her brogue deepening, “nice of you to notice.”
“I wish I had them,” sighed Kat.
“Well, I’ve had them ever since I was a lass of fourteen,” replied the Soulborn.
“Really, that young?” said Kat in a surprised voice, “Would you mind if I…touched one of them?”
Kellan shook his head as his peripheral vision picked up slight movements from the young Seals behind him. Pullo winked, and the Sentinel gave an inward sigh. “I don’t see why not,” replied Shannon, “It seems we’re all friends here and friends do share. Please, be my guest.”
Kat slowly reached out her right hand and Shannon arched her back slightly. The Seal’s hand slowly slid along the reinforced armor covering Shannon’s left breast. At the last moment, Kat’s fingers twisted and she spun around to face her fellow Seals. All three jumped back with a start. She pointed at them with Shannon’s throwing dagger.
“What did you think I was talking about, you hormonal idiots?” She lowered the dagger toward their waists and gestured. “One of these days, those worms of yours are going to distract you to death.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” snickered Shannon, then added, “But men have been that way since at least twelve-eighty, so I think they are a lost cause.”
Kat flipped the dagger over her shoulder without looking. Shannon snatched it from the air and slid it back into a barely noticeable sheath in her chest armor.
The young Seal stared at the other soldiers as a wry smile played across her lips. “What did you think I was talking about?” Her voice shifted again. “I love my boys, but they really are fucking idiots. Do you like tea?”
Shannon nodded. “I love tea.”
“It’s my one personal item. I’ll heat us up some by my rack.” Kat stopped and glared at her fellow Seals. “And by rack, I mean where I sleep, not my tits.”
Shannon laughed and the two walked over to the right side of the cave where they settled into one of the niches.
“What just happened?” asked Billy.
“We got schooled,” sighed Holden, “and rightly so. We took our eyes off the ball.”
“To be fair, fellas,” offered Kellan, “if balls had been involved, I doubt you would have had the same issue.”
Pullo slapped the Sentinel hard on the shoulder. “Very amusing!” He eyed his men, “and equally educating, I think. However, I assume there was a pressing reason for your visit. Shall we get to it, then?” Kellan nodded. Pullo turned to his Seals and said, “Holden, you and Miller secure the entrance. Thompson, you run a circuit through our perimeter defenses.” The two younger Seals immediately picked up their weapons and gear, then headed for the cave entrance.
Holden glanced toward the two women. “What about Bobrovski? She's gonna be pissed if we leave her behind, especially after what you promised her.”
The Roman chuckled. "I remember exactly what I promised her and the greatest chance she'll have for CQB is right in this cave."
The fireteam leader's brow furrowed. "Chief? You expecting trouble?”
Pullo pointed at Kellan. “That right there, Petty officer Holden, that is trouble incarnate.”
Chapter 22
A Demon of the First Fall
Pullo rocked back until the front legs of his folding chair lifted from the ground. The remaining two legs wobbled dangerously, but the Roman ignored it. “So, what do you have in store for me this time, Sentinel of Order? I’m not blind and I have seen Druidic defensive glyphs before. Why were you and the Soulborn decorating my cave with them? ” His voice remained even and didn’t hold even the slightest hint of rebuke. Kellan shook his head uncomprehendingly. Pullo laughed and leaned forward. The chair clunked back to Earth as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’ve cleared out all the rogue Weres that Draugluin warned us about and never needed defensive glyphs to protect us. By-the-way, remind me not to piss that guy off. He takes that whole obedience to alpha thing to a whole new level.”
“Don’t piss off Draugluin,” said Kellan dryly, then asked, “How the hell do you know about Draugluin? For that matter, why do your men know about Lycanthropes and Sentinels at all?”
Pullo shrugged. “I met Draugluin centuries ago. As for my men, not much to that. About six months ago we got into a pretty hairy situation, and one of our team was hit pretty badly. Bobrovski blamed herself.”
“Hmm,” grunted Kellan. He glanced over at Kat and Shannon. They had exchanged knives and seemed to be giving each other instruction of some kind. “Well, did she screw up?”
The Roman shook his head. “No, but she might have been able to prevent it, which is not the same thing. Anyway, he lived, but, as I said, she blamed herself. A little blame is good, a lot of blame will cause you to compensate. Compensation can make you do some epically stupid things.” Pullo didn’t wait for the obvious question, but said, “A few weeks later, we’re clearing a village of supposed hostiles. We didn’t find anyone, and were about to hoof it back here, when some asshole in an explosive vest comes out from between two buildings. Bobrovski is closest, and before this guy’s finger can even think about twitching, he’s got one of her daggers sprouting from his right eye. So, down he goes, and all’s good with the world, right? Wrong, because that asshole had a live grenade, in his hand, with the pin pulled. He falls down. The grenade rolls out, and my entire team is in the kill zone. Kat stares at me for a split second, and I saw it, Kellan. I’ve seen it hundreds of times in other soldiers. She figured this was her way to make the other thing right. So, the stupid kid, jumps on the grenade.”
Kellan looked over again. Now both women were grinning at each other and comparing scars. He sighed. “It must have been a long fuse.”
“Fortunately for her it was,” said Pullo. “But as you’ve already guessed, I pulled her off that grenade and threw myself on it.”
Kellan grunted something vaguely affirming, then asked, “How’d that play out?”
Pullo took a long pull from his canteen and sighed. “I woke up in a bodybag.” He pointed to one of the niches. “Right over there.” Kellan laughed and Pullo arched an eyebrow. “What the hell do you find funny, Sentinel of Order?”
“Oh stop it, Pullo. Be offended by someone who doesn’t know you. I’m just picturing you sitting up in that body bag and the kids all pissing themselves.”
“Seals do not piss themselves, Kellan. In fact, Kat insisted she carry my bloody carcass all the way back here without the other’s help. I weigh 265 Kellan, maybe a little less with some of my parts blown off. Anyway, you are right about one thing. I’m laying in that dark bag thinking what the hell do I do now?”
“And?” asked Kellan.
“And I slid my knife down as much of the bag as I could, so it would just fall away when I sat up, which I did.”
“And?” asked Kellan again.
Pullo grinned, “Kat shot me, but fortunately it didn’t hit anything vital.”
“Maybe your unexpected resurrection affected her aim,” snickered Kellan.
“Exactly what I said,” laughed Pullo, “She claims the round struck exactly as planned, so she could,” Pullo made air quotes, “interrogate my zombie ass later.” He shrugged. “I’m letting her keep that illusion. I saw the fear in her eyes, and don’t think any less of her for it. Anyway, after rising from the dead, I figured the easiest thing to do was just come clean about everything.” Pullo gave a halfhearted sigh. “Ever since that night, we’ve added our own supernatural missions to the mundane ones that are handed down from on high.”
Kellan smirked. “Saving people, hunting things, that’s your little Seal family business?”
Pullo squinted at the Sentinel. “You are doing that thing you do, aren’t you?” Kellan gave the Roman an innocuous smile. “Yes,” said Pullo, “that is exactly what you are doing. The problem with your little references is that I don’t have much leisure time. So, whatever clever television or movie your overladen brain brought to the fore, is completely lost on me.”
“It was Supernatural,” murmured Kellan.
“Don’t care,” countered Pullo. “Never saw it. Never heard of it. In fact the last movie I saw was Bladerunner and that was just because you chatter about it endlessly whenever our paths cross.”
Kellan nodded. “The sequel was damn good.”
“There was a sequel?” asked Pullo.
Kellan furrowed his brow. “Yes, it came out a couple years ago. Bladerunner 2049.” Pullo shook his head. “When did you see Bladerunner?” asked the Sentinel.
The Roman shrugged. “I saw it when it came out.”
“When it came out—” sputtered Kellan. “In 1989? You haven’t seen a movie since 1989?”
The Sentinel never got to hear Pullo’s reply because Kat squatted down beside them. Shannon stood by her side with one hand resting casually on the Seal’s shoulder. “She’s amazing,” gushed Shannon.
Kellan’s eyes traced from Kat, back to his wife, and he snarked, “Great, are you asking if we can keep her? I dunno, Cara might be jealous. Is she housebroken?”
“No, she is decidedly not housebroken,” snarked Kat, then slapped Pullo’s thigh. “So, did you give them the blood they were after?”
Pullo tilted his head slightly and stared at Kellan. “I was getting to it,” said the Sentinel defensively. “I thought you hadn’t seen me for centuries, dude. Am I an asshole for wanting to warm up the relationship a bit before—”
“Why do you need my blood, Sentinel of Order?” rumbled Pullo.
Kellan opened his mouth to explain, but Kat spoke first. “The Incarnation of Destruction had its Emissary abduct Lucifer’s wife, Aibreann O’Dochartaigh, after she had his baby. The baby is Meghan Daugherty’s great, great grandmother and Shannon’s great grandniece. Aibreann got turned into a statue. If Shannon and Kellan don’t get her back on the board, we’re all screwed. They need your blood to help bring her back, Chief.”
Pullo closed his eyes and took a long, measured breath. After he let it out, the Roman opened his eyes and said, “You want to combine my blood with—” he gestured to the satchel, “that?”
Kellan winced. “Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t some kind of black mass. I just need to take a little blood with me so I can wash my hands with it later.”
Pullo frowned. “Yes, that does sound much better.”
“It is better,” said Kellan, “Now, is the satchel still glowing?”
“Yes,” grumbled Pullo, “which is unsettling because I generally only see that violet energy when dying or coming back from having been killed. It’s my least favorite color, Kellan.”
The Sentinel opened his pack and removed the pyx. He thumbed the small release lever and its lid snapped open to reveal the large disk of unleavened wheat flour. Pullo squinted, then averted his gaze. “None of you see that,” he asked, “even now?” All three shook their heads. The Roman gave a dejected sigh. “Almost two thousand years. You’d think I would have earned parole by now.”
Kellan held out the pyx, and patted Pullo a couple times on the knee. He spoke slowly as if to a slow child, “Next time, don’t put your spear through the heart of someone who claims to be the incarnate Word of God. Just a thought…”
Kat and Shannon gave almost identical snorts, then shared a glance. The young Seal held her tactical dagger out to Pullo who accepted it. He stared at Kellan as if in anticipation of something. “What?” asked the Sentinel.
“I thought you didn’t want me to put my blood on the host,” said Pullo.
Kellan clicked the pyx closed and slipped it back into the satchel. “I don’t.”
“Then what am I going to bleed into?” grumbled the Roman.
“Oh, I can help with that,” offered Shannon, then slipped a small vial from her belt pocket.
“Why do you have that?” asked Kat, Pullo, and Kellan at the same time.
Shannon froze for a second, then said, “What do you mean, why do I have it? You should always carry around a few empty vials.” She sputtered. “Everyone knows that. Now, do you want it or not?”
Kellan took the glass bottle from her hand. With a final glare at the Sentinel, Pullo dragged the blade across his palm, then made a fist over the open vial. A thin stream of scarlet quickly filled the small bottle. Kellan inserted the stopper, and gave the Roman a curt nod.
Pullo pulled his hand away, but Kat immediately reached for it. She stared at his palm. No trace of the wound remained. She shook her head. “Not fucking fair,” she murmured.
“Honestly,” began Shannon, “I told you earlier. You don’t want what Pullo’s got. You really—”
Kat held up a hand and Shannon broke off. The Seal pressed a finger against her right ear. Pullo’s eyes widened and he jumped up. The Roman pointed to Kellan’s satchel. “It has stopped glowing, Sentinel of Order. Whatever you needed to do, it has been accomplished. I suggest you leave…now!”
“What is it?” asked Shannon.
Kat rose and began rapidly assembling an array of lethal gear. She paused for the barest of seconds and said, “Hostiles. Unnatural ones.”
“Weres?” asked Pullo, as he began gearing up as well.
