GAME ON - GoM 2

17

Father Jason volunteered to go to Jill's to grab takeout for all of them, so Claire and Mark went to the Corbans' place to fetch what they needed to fix more special shells. Thames called Alex to the church for a private conversation. And Tom and Aidan found themselves alone, tasked to start loading shells with salt and holy water. They sat at the kitchen table and worked in silence for a while.

"So you and Al, huh," said Aidan, handing Tom an open shell, half-filled with salt.

Tom looked up at him and raised only one eyebrow, inviting Aidan to lose some teeth.

Aidan held his eyes and scoffed. "Well, you better take good care of her, Tom Sutton."

Tom stared at him a moment longer, then resumed his work. He hated the hunter's guts. But by now he could tell it had nothing to do with that couple of weeks Aidan and Alex had spent together last summer. Tom hated that despite Aidan's being a complete asshole, and this being the first time they got together ever since Montana, they shared such an evident, strong bond. Claire had been so right, about them being so alike. Seeing them complete and anticipate each other's words was more than enough to prove it. And the way Aidan had told Thames off about Alex taking more risks than necessary... It'd made Tom feel utterly awkward and even guilty because he hadn't been so quick and loud to stand for her.

Things would've been easier if Tom had detected any sign of Aidan hitting on Alex. He'd break the hunter's nose—by now he was pretty sure Alex wouldn't let him kill the moron. But there was no fighting, or even objecting, such an honest affection.

Meanwhile, at the church, Thames showed Alex a silver tray on a stool behind the altar, flanked by candles. Their blades lay there. The priest moved his hand over them, without touching them, and the steel was covered in a pale glow. Alex recognized the sigil that looked like carved in light on the blades.

"D'you think we stand any chance?" she asked.

Thames flashed one of his warm smiles. "Yes. Else I wouldn't let you go. But you need to keep your head cool, okay? If anything happens to your friends, keep in mind it's not on you. It's on Askaroth, his warriors and his runts, who only know the ways of violence and death."

She nodded, shrugging. Easier said than done. "D'you think I'm gonna need to channel tonight?"

"Most likely. However, always keep it as your very last resource. But come to it, don't hesitate to do it. It won't have the affect you fear."

"Yet."

"Yet."

Over dinner, the Holsters commented with Thames the last news since the Cross had been stolen.

"Demons are working in the open for the first time in centuries," said Aidan. "Hunters all over are going ballistic, trying to keep'em at bay."

Thames nodded. "I've heard about it, too. The Order's scholars are burning their eyes, looking into every little bit of lore to try to determine which Gate of Hell Askaroth is getting ready to open."

"Which Gate?" repeated Father Jason in dismay. "There's more than one?"

"Six that we know of in America," Mark replied. "Two dozen more worldwide."

"It's going down here, in America," said Thames. "Or Askaroth wouldn't have left Europe."

"Well, that's good news. At least we know that," said Aidan, sinking his teeth in a huge burger.

"Your concept of good news sucks, Aidan," said Claire, amused.

The hunter winked at her and the girl giggled. Maybe Tom was having a hard time stomaching Aidan's ways, but she was happy the brothers were there to join them.

Alex's phone buzzing caught everybody's attention. She excused herself and walked out of the kitchen to pick up.

"Hey, Bass. How's Jack?"

"Out of surgery but still hanging on a thread. They took him to intensive care."

"Bummer. Any word from Sean and Phil?"

"They just called me. There's a lot of cars at Markus', and a bunch of guys just left the house for the woods to the south."

Everybody trailed off when Alex came back to the kitchen.

"They're on the move, as Claire thought," she said.

The girl met her aunt's eyes and flashed a tight smile at her acknowledgement.

Aidan's whining about his unfinished third burger died away when Thames brought the blades on the tray from the church. They still glowed, and Mark's eyes widened at spotting the sigil.

"They're consecrated," he whispered in awe.

"Not fully. But they're sharp, so they'll cut alright," Thames replied, smiling.

Claire grabbed her wakizashi and handed Alex a machete. "Pick one, Mark," she said. She noticed Aidan's eager expression and gave him Alex's hunting knife.

But the brothers forgot about the blades when Tom joined them with his bow and quiver.

"Is that...?" Aidan trailed off, baffled.

Mark answered his brother's question. "Old Bootter's Ulysses!"

Aidan turned to Alex, as she secured a couple of daggers to her belt. "This bow is a legend! And you gave it away?"

Alex looked up and scowled at his outraged tone. "Away?" she repeated, as if that word was the worst insult. "Tom using that bow is the only reason why we made it out alive against the Keepers today! So shut your hole and keep it that way!"

Mark and Claire traded a smile when Aidan threw up his hands, shocked at Alex's open scold. "Okay, my bad," he murmured.

Tom turned to them from the front door, as if he had nothing to do with their conversation. "Shall we?"

Alex patted Aidan's arm with a quick smile. "Let's go, Aidan-Knight."

The hunter narrowed his eyes when she called him that. She smiled a little wider—yeah, I'm totally playing you. He rolled his eyes and waved for her to go out.