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Chapter 27: Jason

The Blue Wolf gave me my mind back just when it was getting its ass kicked.

Because of course it did.

"Do not mock me, Texan," it growled, trying to sound haughty but coming off as pained, just as my body skidded across the floor. The room I was in had been luxurious, once. Now, the plush chairs, the heavy wooden tables, the deep pile carpet-they had all been torn apart.

"Your masters' den,"  the Wolf said mockingly, in my mind. "It's almost as ugly as their souls were...if you could call them that."

I can't believe this, I thought back at it as I tried to get up to my feet. You can talk to me now? All the time? Ugh.

The Blue Wolf didn't respond, to my surprise. Instead, it nudged at my senses, and I turned my head in the direction it was indicating.

Chris looked almost as bad as I felt.

Usually, Chris could heal from most wounds in second. Being stabbed or shot or bludgeoned did little to break his stride, and he'd once told me he'd even healed from a headshot a few years ago, the wound closed before his body could fall.

Now, he was on the floor, bright red blood-the blood that had opened the Blue Wolf's 'new path-staining the bare, cracked floorboards. The bleeding had stopped, but Chris didn't look like he was gonna get up too soon.

And it looked like I was going to need all the backup I could get.

The woman floating in the air above me was human in shape, but that was where similarities ended. Her skin was chalk-white, her hair, eyes and lips-quirked in a grin that showed how monstrous wide her mouth was- were black as ink. She looked like a black-and-white photo that had come alive.

And she had no navel. Somehow, that struck me as the most inhuman feature of hers.

"It's because she was never born, Texan. She was made,"  the Blue Wolf replied. An image of it flashed in my mind, a disgusted sneer on its face. "Things of her ilk always are."

That was interesting as hell, but I didn't need this bitch's biography. The only thing I needed to know was how to kill her. Which the Blue Wolf seemingly hadn't known, given how she was still alive.

"Oh, my," the woman said, seemingly having just noticed me. "Look who is still alive. Feeling lucky, are we?"

I snorted. "Eastwood fan?"

She tilted her head to one said, not blinking as she regarded me. "I know not of what you speak of... ah." Her grin returned. "Have you already forgotten how I looked last time? Men...well, I did hit your head. Several times, in fact."

Her appearance shifted, and I was looking at Lady Luck. She laughed at my dumbstruck luck, then changed back. It was like pulling a sheet off something to reveal its true shape.

"You followed us," I said. "You waited until the angel was weakened, then revealed yourself and helped us banish it, so we'd let our guard now. So we'd be hit by the wave of darkness sent by the other angels."

She rolled her eyes at that, and looked like she would have liked to stomp her foot if she had not been in midair. "I sent the wave, you fool. It would have crushed the three of you, if you had the common decency to just die. But attributing it to hell's upjumped attack dogs...honestly, I-"

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Whatever she was about to say would remain a mystery, as something flashed through the air and struck her between the eyes. She staggered at that, this monster who had crushed both Chris and the Blue Wolf.

The woman dropped from the air, and the floor recoiled from her touch. Her face showed a tiny wound, like a pinprick. I doubt a human could have even seen it. It was not bleeding. In fact, it closed right as I was taking it in.

One of the room's walls exploded into dust, chunks of concrete filling the air like shrapnel. A man had walked through it like it had been a curtain.

The guy looked like he was preparing to play in a cowboy movie, and was certainly armed the part. His revolvers looked old, but the fact he had even made the woman break stride meant he was far more dangerous than me and Chris.

And behind the man came some people I knew well, and some I wish I didn't. The rest of the Hexarchy, followed by Walker and all three of the Oblivion brothers. King of Skin and Count Video brought up the rear, alongside a man I didn't recognize. His skin seemed to be made of wood, and his hair and bard looked like clumps of leaves.

But I recognized his staff. The Lord of Thorns was said to bear something like it, but this newcomer wasn't like the Lord of Thorns from the stories. What had happened to him?

The woman regained her bearings, shifting her attention from her wound to the newcomers. But she only had eyes for the man with the revolvers.

"You!" She growled at him, in a tone so venomous I involuntarily barred my fangs. "He sent you here, despite everything? What's next? Are the Droods hiding in the hallway?"

"Better pray they're not, Lilith," the man said, smiling lazily, guns still trained on her. "I'm more than enough to send your ugly hide back to Limbo."

The newly-named Lilith snarled. "I am not going back, Saint," he spat the man's name like a curse. "You, and that bastard mongrel behind you, are exactly the things I built the Nightside to stand against."

"Enough," Walker said, stepping forward to stand beside Saint. He looked completely unruffled, as always, and his face showed quiet frustration. Like he had to do something unpleasant, but necessary, and just wanted to get it over with. "SURRENDER YOURSELF TO THE WALKING MAN, LILITH, AND LET YOURSELF BE DESTROYED."

Walker's Voice shook the air like thunder, but it didn't stagger me as much as Saint's identity. The Walking Man was the wrath of God in the human world, but those who served Heaven or Hell had never been able to use their full power in the Nightside-which Lilith had just claimed to have created. Would he be enough, even with the rest of us here?

Lilith laughed contemptuously, and the echoes of Walker's Voice shattered like glass. Walker pursed his lips, looking more disappointed than shocked, and stepped back just as Lilith waved a hand, sending a screaming wave of destruction toward her. The Walking Man let loose a fusillade of bullets from his revolvers, tearing through her attack, and the wave dispersed.

"It's alright, Henry," he told Walker. "I knew it wouldn't work. It's between us monsters now."