by Carla Rehse
Janice backed to the stove. “We can’t do this.”
I raised my hand. “We aren’t actually gonna release iron dust. Probably. But if we’re overrun, it’ll give us a chance.”
“A chance for what? To bleed to death internally?”
I wanted to respond that it would give us a chance to maim and destroy our enemies so completely any surviving descendants would be too frightened to utter our names for centuries but figured my over-caffeinated speech wouldn’t inspire confidence.
Lawson flattened onto his stomach, then handed me a baseball-sized crystal sphere and a padded leather pouch to hold it. The sphere was beautiful, with the glittering silverish iron dust swirling around inside. It looked like an overly expensive paperweight sitting on some overly paid executive’s desk.
“Is that it?” Janice whispered. She scanned the area as if an avenging angel—or Sebastian—would rip off the roof and smite us into oblivion at any second. She’d always been a “coloring within the lines” person.
“Yeah,” Lawson said. “But that’s not all the fun toys. Looks like Mack still has a stash of um … mag darts.”
He went silent. I knew why. It was darts like those that led to Mack’s death.
They seemed like a simple weapon. The companion quarter-sized iron discs were spelled to attach to Hellspawn then provide a no-miss target for the iron darts shot from a specially designed gun. Of course, iron didn’t cause the Hellspawn to go splat horror movie-style, it just hurt them like how a regular bullet hurts a human. Evened the playing field, so to speak.
But there was one huge problem with relying on magic—people tended to believe it was infallible. And magic isn’t.
Lawson and I had been so cocky, chasing down that rogue vampire. When we realized it was actually a pair of werepanthers disguising their kills, we refused to stop. Even when Mack ordered us to retreat. We’d been so sure the iron discs would stay attached to our prey. Never did find out why they didn’t. Mack sacrificed himself so Lawson and I could escape. To my knowledge, the panthers still prowled around New Mexico. I hadn’t thought about them in years. Guess I oughta add them to my to-do list.
Lawson dangled a canvas bag from his hand. I took the darts though I wanted nothing to do with them. They had horrendously failed once; I couldn’t trust they wouldn’t fail again.
Then I realized what the iron dust globe was. Another mistake.
Vengeance and reckless bravado caused the death of a person I loved. So as an adult, I did the opposite and tried to ignore what my husband had gotten himself involved in. Both paths ended in catastrophe. I needed to be smarter than that.
I handed the globe to Lawson. “Let’s use this as an absolute last resort. We can’t get caught up like we did before Mack died.”
He stared at the globe in his hand. “The two of us together tend to get extreme, don’t we?”
“You do know that no one blames y’all for Mack’s death?” Janice said. “Not back then and certainly not now.”
I shrugged. “Perhaps they should.”
Time had made the pain of his death manageable, but it never faded.
“Mack wouldn’t want that. He lived and died on his terms,” Lawson said as he placed the globe inside the bolt-hole.
Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t have the emotional strength to delve into that trauma. “Before this turns into a Hallmark Movie moment, anything in there we could use?”
Lawson handed me items but nothing else exotic. Mostly Seraph-blessed items, such as throwing knives and slim daggers. No swords, which would’ve been helpful, but the box of shotgun shells was filled with blessed-iron pellets and possibilities. If we could find a shotgun. Humans and otherworlders in boundary towns tended to be old school, using blades over firearms. But this was Texas, so there had to be a shotgun somewhere.
Janice must’ve decided that a smiting wasn’t imminent as she finally came over to help load our rucksacks. She held up a box of protein bars stowed in her pack. “Think we should eat one of these before leaving?” She cast a dubious eye at the box. “They’re low carb and high protein. Plus, dairy, salt, and gluten-free. Suitable for keto diets with an appetizing peanut butter flavor.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Pass. If I’m gonna die, it’ll be with real sugary goodness in my stomach. I’ll hunt down a Snickers bar later.”
Lawson stood, then held his hands like a catcher’s mitt. “I’ll take one.”
Janice tossed him a bar. Both ignored my grossed-out expression as they proceeded to gnaw on the pressed sawdust in their hands.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
Janice’s brow furrowed. “I thought we were going to the Apothecary, grabbing the Hunters, then checking to see if the Bakers are really dead?” She shook her head. “Wait. Right. Those are the goals, not how we’re gonna do it. Sorry. My brain’s tired.”
“Yeah, we need to figure out how to do that without getting dead.” I scrunched my shoulders to get the rucksack to settle better on my back.
Lawson coughed as he swallowed the last of his bar. “We only have two options, or relatively safe options, I should add. We can go back the way we came and hope that Darty has returned to the lake. Or head down the back way, which ends up right next to the lake. And possibly Darty or the other lake monsters in there.”
“Don’t forget the demons have their lodging house on the edge of the lake,” I pointed out. “Just because so many decided to try mainstreaming into an actual neighborhood doesn’t mean they all abandoned their first home.”
Janice rubbed her forehead. “It would be nice to know how many demons we had to worry about.”
“And the Bleakness Wraith. Or Wraiths, since there could be more. There’s also the other Hellspawn and ghosts. Do we know for sure how many Shifters are here?” Maybe this wasn’t the best morale-boosting time to list our obstacles, but I liked having all the cards on the table.
Lawson shrugged. “It is what it is. If we wanted to play it safe, we’d stay here. But that’s not happening. So, our best bet is to retrace our steps and hope Chase’s Jeep will work now. The lake sounds too dicey.”
“I agree.” I shot Luna and Chase a sad look. “Damn. I hate leaving them here defenseless.” I didn’t add it was quite possible they would also bleed out and die like the elders. What would be more soul ripping? Leaving them to die alone or to watch it without any way to stop it?
“The Bwbach?” Janice asked.
I thought about it for a few seconds. “That’ll put them in a really dangerous position. I won’t ask them to do that. As far as I can tell, Baker is the only other being who knows they’re here.”
“We will help,” Red Hat called out from behind the basement door. It slammed open. He stood in the doorway with two of his people behind him. “Defeating the spellworkers should be your concern. My kin have found something for the Milk Bringer.”
The two Bwbach, smaller than Red Hat with masses of curly, brown hair hiding most of their faces, scurried into the room, holding a medium-sized, brass-coated box between them. On the cover of the box, a golden Chi-Rho symbol gleamed in the light.
“The Apothecary sigil?” I said, too surprised to make a more intelligent comment.
“Our Moulach is a wise woman, though near the end of her time,” Red Hat said with grave respect coloring his tone. “She dreamt of you and says you will need the box soon. Dymuniadau gorau.”
The Bwbach placed the box on the ground by the cement table, then beat feet back to Red Hat. Their reticence didn’t spark assurance that they could protect the kids, but at least they volunteered to do so. Courage came out at strange times, and even the biggest badass lost the occasional fight.
Red Hat shut the door without any goodbyes, so I turned my attention to the box they’d given me. Waves of power emitted from it, though I couldn’t explain how I knew. Power that felt oily and wrong and malevolent.
Lawson frowned. “They have an actual Moulach in the basement? How many are down
there?”
“Bwbachs are solitary brownies. They’re ruled by a spiritual leader, the eldest female in their clan named after Maggy Moulach, one of their heroines,” Janice recited. “Hmm. I can’t remember how big of an area each Moulach covers. How big is the basement?”
“Can’t be that big,” I said. The Bwbach mystery would have to wait until later, though.
Janice gave the box the stink eye. “Should we open it?”
A shudder ran through me. “No! Not now.”
Lawson helped me settle the box inside my rucksack. A sense of urgency hit me, and I was out the door and to the cliff’s edge before I realized I’d moved.
Lawson grabbed my arm. “Everly! What are you doing? I yelled your name, and you wouldn’t stop.”
“I-I don’t know,” I groaned in frustration. “Something’s … pulling me to the Celestial Building.” I started fidgeting like a three-year-old needing the potty and would’ve fallen off the edge if Lawson hadn’t still held my arm. “It’s the Gatekeeper power. I can’t always control it.”
Janice snorted. “Fantastic. How are you getting down that hill without breaking your neck?”
“Hell if I know.” I started jiggling around as if I’d stepped into a bed of fire ants. Janice grabbed my other hand to steady me.
A flash of white light hit us. When it faded, I stumbled back into a brick wall.
Janice held out her arms like she was drunk-walking. “What was that?”
I scanned the area to get my bearings. It looked like we were behind the Celestial Building. “Angel transportation. Why would Sebastian waste what little power he has to—”
An explosion cut me off.
Lawson grabbed Janice and me, knocking us to the grass. He lifted his head. “That sounds like it came from the front. Something exploded in the parking lot, I’d wager.”
Janice curled on her side and brushed at the grass stains on the knees of her now not-so-white capris. “I’m never getting these clean,” she groused.
Smaller explosions sounded, and a basketball-sized piece of asphalt flew over the building. It landed where we had been standing. To our left, flames shot up, engulfing the mayor’s two-story house.
We hadn’t been dropped in the best of locations: there wasn’t much of a back area, and a ten-foot-high wooden fence separated us from the alley behind this street. Since the Celestial Building sat on the corner, the stupid fence also ran along the side where we were. Our options were to go left toward the burning house, over the fence, or to sneak along the right side of the building until we got to the parking lot. Whatever Seraph brought us here could’ve at least installed a back door or a window for us to climb through.
Jeering yells came from behind the fence. Hellfire arced over it and lit the mayor’s backyard on fire.
“Move, people!” Lawson scrambled to his feet.
We jetted right, heading to a small stand of live oak trees at the back corner of the Celestial Building. It seemed doubtful they’d provide much protection, but we were out of options. Or at least, I was.
Lawson and Janice might be able to scale the ten-foot fence that led to the side alleyway. As long as no demons were hanging out back there. But I couldn’t climb over it. Even with help, the drop would be horrible. My left knee throbbed like no one’s business just from that short sprint. Where was a Snickers bar and a huge bottle of ibuprofen when you needed it?
“Any idea what’s going on?” Janice panted.
A scream in Diabolish—demon language—drowned out Lawson’s reply. A demon, covered in flickering red flames, spun like a top over the roof of the Celestial Building. It slammed into the wooden fence, then disintegrated into a pile of smoldering ash. The stench of burning sulfur made my stomach turn. Unhelpfully, the fence had an anti-destruction spell woven over it, so nothing broke from the demon’s impact.
“Don’t see that every day,” Lawson said.
Another explosion rocked the area. Burning missiles of what appeared to be bits of a vehicle flew through the morning sky. Cheers sounded from the parking lot. If a Mad Max movie showed a fireworks scene, it probably would be similar.
“Holy Saints,” Janice muttered.
“We need safer cover,” I said, ’cause nothing worked better in a crisis than pointing out the inane or obvious. “The picnic tables? At least we could see what was going on.”
Lawson grimaced. “Not ideal, but better than standing in a pile of firewood.”
The three of us turned to check out the six limestone tables. They sat on the side of the Celestial Building in a cute little park area with pea gravel covering the dirt and granite animal statues scattered around. Mama and I had picnic lunches here when I was little.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Janice hissed. “The parking lot will be in full view! The demons will spot us in a heartbeat.”
I shook my head. “Nah, we’re downwind. They’ll smell us first. If they haven’t already.”
“Wonderful,” Janice groaned. “Absolutely wonderful.”
“We’ll each take a table. Stay low and move fast,” Lawson said.
It sounded like contrary instructions to me, but I didn’t point it out.
Lawson went first in a sorta crouching, squatting sprint that looked like it belonged in one of those high-intensity exercise classes that Sadie loved. I shooed Janice to go next, mainly so she’d stop her complaining, then I followed.
Once I edged around the building and made it to my table in a horrendously awkward scramble, I realized we didn’t have to be so extremely cautious. The demons had more on their plate than three measly humans.
My table, at the edge of the parking lot, gave me a full view of the festivities. Zim had been tied to the lamppost in the middle of the lot. Dozens of wounds scattered across his body leaked black ichor. From the angle of his head, he was either unconscious or dead.
The Elemental Demons had staged a coup.
Two of the demons, Crae and Jag, threw Hellfire flames at the Celestial Building’s front door. White orbs flew out. Crae didn’t duck in time. She caught an orb in the abdomen, sailed through the air, landed on a car, then exploded. Additional fiery vehicle parts were flung into the sky. Her demon friends cheered and clapped, and I swore I saw money exchange hands between several demons.
Lawson and I exchanged wide-eyed looks. This was so not good.
A flash of heat flared around the disc in my wrist. Was this why I had been drawn here by the Seraphs? Because they were trapped inside and wanted our help against rampaging demons who’d already killed Zim, who ruled over the demons in town?
This couldn’t get worse.
“We need backup,” I whispered. “Know any non-unconscious Hellspawn?”
A low growl caught my attention. I turned my head, and the largest Hellhound I had ever seen bared its teeth.
The Hellhound ducked its massive head under my table.
Irony was such an asshole.
TWENTY-TWO
Time to open a can of whoop-ass
A rope of drool, stinking of rotten eggs, dripped onto my hand. The glob burnt like acid, so I rubbed it on the gravel for relief.
I couldn’t be absolutely sure, but I didn’t think this was the one that bit me a couple days ago. Since I had no intention of becoming a chew toy, I reared back, hoping to get away. Instead, I conked my head on the underside of the rock table so hard I expected birds to fly around in a circle like a Tom and Jerry cartoon.
“Everly!” Janice hissed. “There’s a Hellhound next to you.”
I rubbed the top of my head while keeping a suspicious eye on the drooling behemoth. “No shit, Sherlock,” I muttered.
Imminent death brought the snark out of me.
Before I could wriggle around to retrieve the knife in my boot, the Hellhound, too enormous to squeeze under the table, backed away. It raised its butt in the air and wagged its tail in a really bizarre imitation of a playful pup, if you ignored the stench of sulfur, the enormous eyes raging w
ith yellow Hellfire, and the lumps and scars spread across its black fur.
“Does … does it want to play?” Lawson asked.
“Forget that!” Janice said. “Oh, my Saints! Why can I see it? I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”
Right. Regular folks could only see a Hellhound when it tracked them. “Could the Hound Hunter be looking for us?” I couldn’t remember the name of the Hunter specially trained to work with the Hellhounds, but Lawson would know.
“The Hound Quad-team left town before the lockdown happened,” Lawson said. “I’m not trained to work with Hellhounds, but I gotta say, it’s acting like it wants you to follow it.”
Lawson was right. The Hellhound had backed away a few steps until its back end had crossed over into the parking lot. It did the butt-in-the-air, circle-tail-wagging thing again. I never had a dog, as a child or an adult, but I watched a bunch of animal shows with Sadie. A wagging tail either meant it was friendly or ready to rip my face off. I couldn’t remember which. But the Hellhound did look like it wanted me to follow it. The fact that it didn’t rank as even the top five of strange things to happen to me lately showed just how crazy the last forty-eight hours had been.
The compulsion to move hit me again. I went to the Hellhound before I knew it. Heat built inside my stomach, like a contained major hot flash.
“Human!” A demon, wearing some super-spiffy bright-pink Louboutin heels, pointed at me. Seriously, I really needed to figure out where the otherworlders shoe shopped. Three other demons headed toward me. I recognized two of them as Chase’s tormenters from yesterday.
The Hellhound spun around and growled a warning at the demons.
“What the hell?” I shook my head. Hellhounds might work with humans and Seraphs, but they were demons. Maybe a special kind, but still card-carrying, Hellfire-filled demons.
Lawson sprinted to my side with his sword in hand. “Run!”
I retrieved my dagger from my boot. The heat in my stomach increased to a painful level, but I wasn’t gonna back down.
The biggest of the three demons made a ball out of Hellfire. “Which one of you little girls wants to play with us?”
