Dark Kings

by Sadie Moss

  This time, Remi chuckles, and even Trinity grins. Beckett’s jaw clenches, like he’s wondering how he got saddled with all of us morons, but all he says is, “Get ready. We leave in five.”

  It actually takes us ten minutes to leave, and I want to say those extra five minutes aren’t all my fault, but they totally are.

  I just don’t like to rush, okay? Especially not when I’m going into a potentially dangerous situation where we plan to reanimate a demon’s corpse to undo a portal creation spell. I mean, this is the kind of shit you don’t want to rush, am I right?

  Ford left the demon’s body in the trunk of Beckett’s car instead of carrying it up to the penthouse, which I completely respect. He checks on it to make sure it’s still there, double-checks the charm, and then we all pile into the car again.

  We’re all dressed in black tactical wear, and it kind of makes me want to laugh. We look like we belong in a Mission Impossible movie or some shit, and although it’s dark out now, it won’t be for long. Between the fight at the casino and all that time dealing with the witch, we’ve been up almost all night. Morning commuters are gonna wonder why a bunch of ninjas are walking down the street dragging a body.

  Trinity’s outfit matches all of ours, and although she looked damn fine in that clingy dress she wore to Heaven’s Gate, she actually looks even better now. She looks more… herself, I guess—not that I’ve really known her long enough to know what her true self is like.

  But I kinda feel like I do know, in a way. Trin wears her emotions and almost every single thought she has on her sleeve. She doesn’t put on airs or wear masks. What you see is what you get with her, and right now I see an angel who’s scared shitless but is marching into battle anyway.

  It makes a little bubble of affection expand in my chest, and I nudge her with my shoulder to get her attention.

  When she looks at me, I grin. “Hey. You like pancakes?”

  Her brows pull together in confusion, but she nods.

  “Good. After this is all over and the portal’s closed, we’ll have pancakes for breakfast.”

  Her eyes light up, and she straightens a little in her seat. “Really? You’ll make pancakes?”

  “No.” I feign scandalized shock. “I’ll order pancakes and have them delivered. They’re usually still pretty warm by the time they arrive. Just pop ’em in the microwave and you’re good to go. Sometimes the syrup congeals a little, but then you just spread it with a knife. No biggie.”

  “We are not having pancakes delivered,” Remi says with a grimace. “They’re always rubbery, tasteless, and burnt. If you want pancakes so bad, I’ll make some.”

  Nudging Trin again, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Pro tip: if you want Remi to make you food, just threaten to get the worst version possible from somewhere else.”

  Her laugh is light and airy, and it might be one of the best damn sounds I’ve ever heard. Remi definitely heard my not-all-that-quiet whisper, but he doesn’t even give me shit for it. His gaze is focused on Trinity too, and the expression on his face is warm and soft.

  Shit. She really has gotten under all of our skins.

  It seems like it’d be too much work to try to figure out what that means and why it scares me a little, so I just ignore the thought, letting it settle into the back of my mind as the car rolls to a stop.

  “We’re here,” Beckett grunts from the driver’s seat, and we all look up.

  A large part of the street is cordoned off with police tape, and the sinkhole where the portal formed looks like a large pockmark on the landscape.

  “Oh, boogers.” Trin leans forward in her seat, peering out the window. “It got bigger. That can’t be good.”

  “No, it can’t.” Beckett shoves his door open, turning to look at Ford. “Grab the body and the charm. I’ll clear the area of any witnesses.” At Trinity’s sound of dismay, he chuckles dryly. “I’m not going to kill them, angel. Anyone passing close by will suddenly become convinced that their fortune lies elsewhere today.”

  “Oh. Right.” She looks a little embarrassed, and I grin at her as I open my door and she slides out after me.

  Ford closes the trunk with a thud. The demon’s body has definitely gotten stiffer, and it doesn’t drape easily over his shoulder like it did before.

  Ugh. That’s fucking disgusting. I hope it’s not a problem when we activate the charm.

  “Over there.” Remington points to a spot near the mouth of the alley where the sinkhole seems deepest. “We need to be as close to the center as possible.”

  We leave the car parked illegally—Beck drives like he owns New York City, and as far as I know, he’s never gotten a ticket—and pick our way over to the spot, stepping over cracks in the asphalt and cement.

  Ford sets the body down, propping it up against the wall of a building. It looks like the building must’ve been evacuated, since part of it is starting to crumble into the sinkhole. Keeping his hand on the dead demon’s chest, he turns to look at all of us. “Ready?”

  “Fuck, no.” I huff a laugh. “So you better do it quick.”

  Remi wrinkles his nose as he and Beckett hold the demon up by the shoulders, and Ford digs out the charm the witch gave us.

  “I hope this works,” Trinity murmurs, chewing on her lip as she stands beside me.

  “It better, or I’ll fucking kill that witch.” Ford’s voice is a rough growl, and I’m not sure if Trinity hears it, but I can tell he almost hopes he’ll have an excuse to do just that.

  My brother presses the charm into the demon’s forehead, muttering the incantation Morrigan instructed us to say. I hold my breath as he speaks quietly, and as soon as the last word leaves his mouth, the spell snaps into effect.

  The dead demon’s eyes snap open. I have no idea what color they were when he was alive, but now they’re a bright glowing orange. Something that looks like black smoke seeps from his nostrils, almost like he’s exhaling—although I don’t think that’s what this is. It’s the magic coming to life inside him, infusing him as it reanimates his body.

  With creaky, jerky motions, the corpse begins to move.

  The stench that was already coming off the dead body multiplies, and Remington looks like he might hurl.

  But it’s working.

  It’s gotta be one of the strangest fuckin’ things I’ve ever seen, but the corpse is very definitely performing a spell in reverse.

  Ho-ly shit. I guess that creepy as fuck death witch really does know her stuff.

  “Um… how long is this going to take?” Trinity suddenly asks, her voice sounding tight and nervous.

  “I dunno.” I shake my head, still watching the corpse as its movements pick up speed. “Probably a few minutes at least. Why?”

  “Because we’ve got company.”

  The fear in her voice is sharper now, and my head snaps up just in time to see her pointing toward the center of the portal. The sinkhole itself seems to be shrinking, which means the demon’s body is undoing the spell. But as I watch, two corrupted crawl out of the depths, looking like half-rotted corpses themselves.

  “Dammit,” I mutter. “Beck! We’ve got a little problem!”

  “I see it.” He jerks his head at Ford and Remi. “I’ve got the body. You go deal with that. Keep the demons away until the portal is completely closed.”

  “With fucking pleasure.” Ford’s lip curls as he turns toward the sinkhole, and Remi looks disgusted but determined.

  The two demons I first spotted are crawling out of the slowly shrinking sinkhole—but more are coming behind them. Lots more. Like ants swarming a picnic, they crawl over each other in their haste to get to us.

  Ah, fuck.

  It looks like those five extra minutes we took getting here are about to bite us in the ass.

  Because whoever is behind this whole thing knew we were coming. And they’ve found a way to call for backup.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Trinity

  Oh, no. The last thing we
need right now is corrupted.

  They’re still pretty low level, the disgusting corpse-looking types, but there are a lot of them.

  “Protect the body!” Beckett yells. “I can’t finish this if I don’t have a body to direct!”

  That’s fair enough. We can’t get the spell to work in directing the body without actually, you know, having a body.

  “How are we supposed to do that?” Ford yells angrily. That’s not really newsworthy though, since Ford yells almost everything he says, and no matter what he’s saying, he usually sounds pissed.

  “Hot potato?” Phoenix suggests.

  “Very fucking funny.” Ford grunts as he hauls the body up and yanks it away from a corrupted that’s trying to reach for it. “Not fucking yours, asshole!” He turns to Remington. “Goddammit. Catch!”

  “What the fu—”

  Remington nearly gets hit in the head with a literal flying corpse, and despite my terror, I’m struck by the insane urge to laugh. It’s the weirdest and funniest thing I’ve seen in a while, and given how my life has been going lately, that’s saying something.

  Phoenix does laugh, a carefree sound that trickles down my spine like cool water, and Remington glares at him. “Could you please take something seriously for two seconds?”

  “Ha! Is someone finally losing his temper?” Ford grins.

  It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him grin, and it leaves me so distracted that I nearly get sliced open by the claws of one of the corrupted. I duck out of the way of the demon, then shoot another glance at Ford.

  Oh, wow.

  It’s breathtaking. It’s not one of his feral, ferocious grins, it’s a genuine one, like he’s enjoying himself.

  It softens something in me. I know that Ford’s always going to have his wrath. None of them are going to stop being their sin; they’re the literal personification of whatever that sin is. And I don’t want to change them, exactly, although that’s probably what Anderson and the rest of my brethren Upstairs want.

  But maybe he doesn’t have to be all wrath, all the time. I don’t want that for Ford. Even more than the others, he seems to revel in being and doing nothing but his sin, and I think there could be so much more to him if he would let himself go a bit.

  From, uh, a strictly, you know, professional standpoint, that is. I have nothing personal invested in this. This is just so I can redeem them.

  Every time I tell myself that, it feels less solid. Less real.

  “Hey, Beck, look out!” Remington yells, and he tosses the body toward Beckett.

  Ah, crap. Beckett can’t possibly do the ritual and catch this guy at the same time. I put on a burst of speed and manage to catch the dead body, dodging another attack from a leaping corrupted as I do it. It’s like the world’s weirdest, most intense version of keep-away, and my heart is hammering in my chest like it’s going to explode.

  The weight of the body nearly topples me over, but I manage to keep my balance. The corpse is going stiff, rigor mortis having definitely set in, and it makes it hard for me to move the body around while also dodging attacks and defending myself.

  Beckett’s making the body move too, having it recreate, backward, the spell that our mark used to open the portal in the first place, so I nearly get hit in the head by the corpse’s own arms a few times.

  It’s the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done, and I’m kind of glad no other angels are around right now to see this because they’d never let me live it down.

  “It’s working!” Phoenix yells, and for once he sounds energized and not like he’s just waiting for all of this to be over so he can go back to his video games. “I can see it closing!”

  Sure enough, the edges of the portal are starting to draw together, the hole shrinking.

  The corrupted seem to notice this too, because they let out horrible wailing screeches of anger and renew their attacks on us. I draw my angel blade from the ether and slash at the demons, yelling and snarling right back at them. I see Ford shoot me another grin when I do that, like he’s proud of me for giving in to my wrath a little, even if it is righteous wrath and I’m still on the side of good.

  “Almost there!” Beckett bellows. “Just another minute.”

  A corrupted sinks its dirty, broken, sharp nails into my arm, and I yell in pain, swatting at it. But the thing is tough and tenacious, and it refuses to let go, sinking its claws in deeper as it shrieks.

  The dead demon’s body slips from my grasp and Remington snatches up the corpse before another corrupted can take it.

  “Nix!” he calls, a warning in his voice.

  “Yeah, I’m on it!” Phoenix grabs the corrupted that’s latched onto me and literally rips its head off, throwing it to the side like a football as the creature’s body sinks to the ground, its claws finally releasing my arm. The tousled sin winks at me. “Don’t you worry, babycakes, we’ve got you covered.”

  The corpse in Remington’s hold is still moving along with Beckett, but its gestures are smaller now, more contained, and I realize that we’re getting to the end of the ritual. The portal is only big enough for one demon at a time to get through now, and it’s becoming smaller and tighter with every passing second.

  Soon, it’ll be completely gone.

  Yes! We’re doing this. We’re really doing this!

  I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. After all of that running around, visiting sex dens, casinos, and witches, we’re going to succeed. Anderson is going to be so proud of me, especially since I got the sins to do a good deed while I was at it.

  There are only a few corrupted left, and Ford’s got them well in hand, ripping into them like they’re made of tissue paper rather than supernatural beings wielding the power of Downstairs. I stare into the heart of the portal eagerly, ready for it to finally vanish.

  But as I stare into it, I notice something.

  It’s not just a glowing hellish orange hole. There’s something about it… toward the center… it looks like smoke at first, but the longer I stare at, it the more it starts to take on a shape.

  It’s like the center of something, with tendrils spreading out, and out, leading to other dots or spots that are getting larger and larger until they look almost like dark eggs. Like I’m staring at a spider’s web.

  What is that?

  They grow larger and more solid as the portal shrinks, and I realize—

  Oh, no.

  Either the bookie escaped and warned the others who were involved in this, or maybe this failsafe has always been here, just in case someone tried to close the portal permanently. But I would bet anything—I’d bet my wings, even—that this black web I’m seeing is a network that’s about to create more portals the moment we close this one.

  We’re about to solve one problem and create dozens of new ones.

  “Beck!” I yell, wheeling quickly to face him. “Don’t—”

  Don’t what? Don’t close the portal? But that’s ridiculous; we have to. We can’t just leave it open.

  It doesn’t matter anyway. Even as I yell, the portal snaps shut like a rubber band that’s been stretched and is returning to its proper shape, and I see the dark lines of the spiderweb explode like fireworks.

  “What the fuck was that?” Ford yells as we all stagger back and the body we’ve been using to undo the spell falls limp at last.

  “I think those were other portals being created.” My voice is low, the words dragging slowly out of me. “Being placed around the Earth. I think it’s some kind of failsafe in case this one was closed.”

  “Fuck. That’s a hell of a failsafe,” Remington mutters. He catches my gaze. “Were you able to count how many there were?”

  I shake my head, feeling exhausted and sick to my stomach. “Whoever started this, they were really serious about bringing the corrupted into the world of the living.”

  And I’m terrified about what that means.

  Phoenix gives a low whistle as Beckett says, “I haven’t seen anything l
ike this in a long damn time. This kind of full-scale invasion attempt hasn’t been done since the last all-out war, thousands of years ago.”

  I shiver. “Is that what’s happening?”

  “I don’t know.” His green eyes are sharp with concern. “This is different. Although battles between Heaven and Hell have been waged before, Earth has always been neutral territory. Their war spilled onto Earth, but they were never fighting for control of this plane of existence.”

  “But whoever is opening up these portals?” Remington shakes his head. “They have an interest in Earth specifically. There’s something here they want. And if what you saw is true—if there are really dozens or hundreds of other portals placed around the globe, ready to open at any time…”

  He doesn’t finish the thought.

  He doesn’t need to.

  I stare at the spot where the portal was until a moment ago, my throat tight and fear lying heavy in my stomach. I thought that I was finishing this conflict, resolving everything.

  But now… it looks like the fight is really just beginning.

  Chapter Thirty

  Trinity

  We need to get out of the way but still be able to observe what’s going on, so the sins use their charm to slip undetected into a nearby building, and I fly up to the top to meet them as they emerge on the roof.

  It’s not a skyscraper, only about five stories tall, but from up here we can watch as people start to arrive to see what all the fuss is about. Firefighters and the police show up, trying to figure out what’s going on, and there are plenty of gaping onlookers.

  “This is such a mess,” I moan, covering my face with my hands.

  “There was really no way we could put a halt to all of this without there being some kind of mess involved.” Beckett’s voice is calm, but his eyes churn as he focuses on the scene below. “The human government will cover up the aftermath. Just like when the portal first opened, they’ll brush this under the rug to keep mass panic from spreading.”