by Julie Hall
I watched, transfixed, as he reached a claw-tipped finger out and ran it through the blue blaze. The flesh on his finger bubbled, but he simply considered it with a tilt of his head and a slight narrowing of his eye sockets.
“Hey.” I pulled the sword back and took a fighting stance, my voice shrill. “Don’t touch that.”
“That sword, my ugly sheep”—he pointed the same clawed finger at my weapon—“is the whole reason you and your bonded are even in my realm. The whole reason I sent my demons to attack your family. The whole reason for all your pain”—he ticked his chin toward Logan—“and a good deal of his pain as well. Had you been willing to listen the last time we stood face to face, you could have prevented your boyfriend from being turned into a bloody hunk of flesh.”
Guilt nipped at my gut, but I pushed the shame away. This was the Father of Lies; I couldn’t take anything he said as truth.
“You want my sword?”
“In a way.”
“But it won’t work for you,” I blurted. “Didn’t Knuckle-Head behind you report on that?”
A bubble of near hysterics threatened to burst free from my chest. If all of this pain and suffering was due to a misconception, I was seriously going to lose it.
“I won’t be using the sword . . . You will.” Satan’s lip curled.
I blinked. Twice.
“You want me to stab you?”
Satan blew out a breath of air and turned slightly to Alrik. “She is exceedingly stupid, isn’t she?”
Alrik simply tipped his head in agreement. He’d never been so quiet before. It gave me the creeps.
“That insult might have bothered me if it came from anyone other than you.”
Satan lifted an eyebrow above those creepy empty eye sockets.
“And you’re stupid.” I couldn’t believe the word vomit coming out of my mouth.
Gosh, what was I, five?
If Satan had eyes, I think he might have rolled them at me. Can’t say I blamed him for that last comment. “You won’t be stabbing me, you idiot sheep. You’ll be using that blade to cut through this.” He reached behind him and roughly jerked something forward. He pulled it with such violence that sparks shot from the rough ground where it grated.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to what I was seeing. Clenched in his fist was a semi-transparent chain. Each link at least the size of my fist. Rather than metal, it appeared to be made of black smoke encased in a transparent glass-like material—though clearly much stronger than glass. How long had he been dragging that thing behind him?
My eyes widened. What exactly was I looking at?
“What is that?” I stammered.
“That, Daughter of Eve, is the chain that binds me to this and the earthly realm. And you are going to be the one to break it. Then I will be free, and you will be one of mine.”
10
Cursed
The tip of my sword shook, but not from fatigue. “Yours?”
“Yes, my little lamb. The one who frees me, willingly or not, from these chains will be cursed to become one of my children, bound to me for eternity. The rules were established by the Creator Himself. But your beloved Logan will be free.”
He tilted his head toward the still form behind me. “Well, what’s left of him at least. I’ll even grant you some time with him before I come to collect what is rightfully mine.”
The dam keeping my hysterics on lock-down burst. I didn’t scream or cry—I laughed. It sounded maniacal even to my own ears, wild and uncontrollable.
The creature in front of me was beyond insane. He was delusional. I wasn’t going to help him. I would never help him.
An unearthly growl burst from Satan and vibrated throughout the small chamber where we stood, causing dirt and small stones to rain down on us. His outburst snapped me out of my hysteria and reminded me exactly where I was. Standing in a cell, deep within the earth, with Satan, a traitor, and the man I loved.
Satan grabbed the smoke-wrapped, transparent chain and chucked it toward me. It landed dangerously close to my feet. I had no idea where it attached to him, and I wasn’t going to ask. I flicked my gaze down to what, according to him, was the only thing keeping him out of the heavenly realm, and then back to his face.
“Break it!” he roared.
For all Satan had done to me, this was the first time he raised his voice in my presence. Something inside begged me to search for cover. Evil-soaked power permeated the very air we breathed in the aftermath of his furious bellow.
I held my ground, standing firm and tall in front of Logan as if my fragile flesh and bone could protect his broken body.
“No.” My voice was quiet but firm.
“My patience has run its course. You will do this, or I will end him.” Satan brought a taloned hand up in front of his face and slowly closed each digit into a fist.
At first I was confused . . . until I heard Logan in agony behind me. His cries of pain echoed off the walls like the sounds of a dying animal, and fresh second-hand pain sliced across my chest.
I dropped my sword, the flame instantly extinguishing, and fell to my knees at Logan’s side. He thrashed on the blood-soaked ground. I moved my hands frantically over his body, trying to find an uninjured spot to touch to lessen his convulsions.
Suddenly Logan’s back arched, and all the muscles in his body contracted. His fingers contorted and bent like claws. The arch in his back was so severe that only his shoulders and part of his legs touched the ground. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth open in a silent scream—as if the horrors being done to his body were so atrocious that they couldn’t be verbalized.
And then a gurgling noise started deep in his chest. The cough that worked its way up his throat was wet and splattered blood on my face when it finally escaped.
My entire being vibrated with the watered-down version of his agony. With black-dotted vision, I battled my body’s defense mechanism to shut down in the face of the painful onslaught. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself through the invasion and willed my body to obey my commands.
“Stop it!” I screamed over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Ending him.” Satan’s cold demeanor was once again in place.
“You can’t do that!” I yelled, but Satan’s depthless gaze was trained on Logan and not on me. A steady flow of blood bubbled out of Logan’s mouth and dribbled down his cheek.
I spotted Alrik behind the evil being. There was a horror in his eyes that was surely reflected in my own.
“Do something!” I yelled to him, but when the words left my mouth, a mask of fake detachment slid over Alrik’s features. I’d find no help there.
“You can’t do this,” I reiterated. “He is a Child of God! He’s not yours to end!” The shriek in my voice shredded my vocal cords. I was coming undone in a way I never had before.
But as quickly as it started, it ended. Satan opened his fist, and Logan’s body unclenched and fell unconscious in a pool of his own blood. Relief flooded my limbs as well, and I was able to unclench my muscles.
My tears fell unfettered onto Logan’s prone form. I didn’t even try to stop them. The shock of seeing him so destroyed caused my hands to tremble.
I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t know how to comfort him.
I didn’t know how to fix him.
Why hadn’t I tried to stop this? Instead I just threw insults at Satan and made it worse.
“Oh God, what have I done?” The whispered words of desperation slipped unknowingly out my mouth.
The deep chuckle behind me was chilling. “You think He hears you? You think He actually cares?”
I must have verbalized my plea.
“Yes,” I whispered, not bothering to turn to the monster behind me.
“He doesn’t. If He did, He would have stopped me. But look what I’ve done to your beloved.”
“You can’t take him. He’s not yours.” My whispered words were barely a breath lea
ving my mouth.
“I know this game better than you do. I can, and I will.” Satan’s voice was so close his hot breath washed over my neck. He brought his clawed hand in front of my face, taunting me. My vision blurred through a veil of tears.
Ever so slowly, he closed his hand again.
I watched in horror as Logan’s battered body responded as if the evil being was squeezing his heart of flesh. A spasm and crushing pain pierced me deep inside.
With a crazed scream I spun, whipping my sword off the ground. My hands gripped the pommel tight enough to hurt as I brought the holy weapon behind my head and used all my strength to arch it downward.
The flames flashed blue before my face as the fiery blur headed toward its target—Satan’s head.
But with a clang that echoed throughout the chamber, the blade connected with the chain that bound Satan instead.
The force of the impact threw me back into the stone wall. My head smacked against the hardness, and my vision winked in and out before clearing.
I shook my head to clear the fuzziness. Big mistake. My brain felt like a giant bruise rolling around in my skull. Every movement hurt.
Logan? My sword?
I pushed through the pain and realized my legs were sprawled over Logan’s injured body. I let out a noise of distress and as gently and quickly as possible pulled myself off him.
Next I noticed my sword lying in the dirt to my left, the blade broken in two.
I grabbed the handle and gasped when nothing happened. No fire sprang to life.
Had the sword itself rejected me?
What had I done?
The edge of my sword had been intended for Satan’s skull, not his chains. Striking his bonds had been an accident.
“No!” His angry roar shook the chamber.
I put a hand against the wall to keep my balance. What was happening?
Satan stood in the middle of the room, his back to me, the leathery shadow of his wings blocking my view of whatever he was holding in front of him.
I blinked, and he was in my face. His contorted in rage as his angelic mask melted away. Bits of charred flesh peeked out from holes in the porcelain skin he hid behind.
“Strike it again,” he ordered with a growl. Red dots lit the middle of his eye sockets—the beast inside peeking out.
Several heartbeats passed before I even understood what he was trying to command me do.
He held the chain that I had struck.
Held it intact.
The blow hadn’t worked. But my sword no longer wielded holy fire. Was my soul condemned, or had I somehow been saved?
Logan lay on the ground between us. Satan’s hate-consumed face filled my vision. Without breaking eye contact, I brought my sword up between us.
“I can’t. The flame is gone.”
Satan didn’t utter a word, but the very ground beneath us began to shake.
And it didn’t stop.
A fissure appeared in the ground by Logan’s head. I gasped and took a step back as the crack climbed up the wall to my right. Large rocks began to fall from the ceiling. I released my broken sword and threw my body over Logan’s, grunting when chunks of debris pounded my back.
“Stop!” I screamed.
And suddenly, it did.
I looked up. Through the debris still floating in the air, Satan stood in the middle of the room, looking at the chain in his hands and muttering to himself. I heard only snatches of his nonsensical ramblings—“Must be,” “blood,” and “key.”
Where was Joe? We needed our ride out of here, like yesterday. I didn’t know what the ramifications of my rash act would be, but I was supremely glad Satan’s trick hadn’t worked. Even if it had cost me my weapon. The real question was what else had it cost me?
That was a concern for another time. Now was my opportunity to get Logan out of the room while Satan was lost in his own insanity. I inched my fingers under Logan’s arms—ignoring his dislocated shoulder—prepared to drag him out.
“Blood.” The melodically vile voice broke the silence.
“What?” I crouched in a protective stance over Logan’s head.
“You need to coat the blade with The Lamb’s blood.”
I didn’t even try to pretend I misunderstood what he was saying. The thought was so horrific, words thoughtlessly tumbled from my mouth. “Are you insane?”
“That question is idiotic . . . even coming from you.” Satan’s calm demeanor was back, but the melted patches on his face revealed his true nature.
“It was rhetorical,” I spat back. “Of course you’re insane. Only an insane being would expect me to stab the Son of God.”
“The fire didn’t work. So the key must be in the blood instead.”
I didn’t answer. I shook my head so violently that my hair slapped my face.
“It’s the only way. And when you do this, you will be one of mine. Your soul will forever be covered in blackness. You will become the betrayer.”
“I’m not doing anything you want me to do.”
“Oh, yes you are.” The calm confidence in the smile that split his grotesque face made my stomach churn as if snakes were wiggling inside and wanted out.
“I already said . . .”
He brought his hand up, fingers spread wide and itching to curve inward.
Threat received, I cut off my words.
“You find him and run him through with that blade of yours. You come back here and cut the chain, and I’ll send you and what’s left of him”—he indicated Logan with a jerk of the chin—“back. You will have time to say your goodbyes before I claim you. It’s more than fair.”
My mouth opened and closed. I didn’t even know how to answer. Of course I wasn’t going to stab Joe. That wasn’t an option. Apparently I took too long to respond because Satan’s fingers started bending inward.
“No!” I held a hand out in a pathetic attempt to stop him. “No. Take me instead. Let Logan go, and keep me down here.”
“Our bargaining period is long over. You passed that up when we conversed on Earth. You either do what I want, or you both—”
I let out another banshee scream and rushed Satan with what was left of my weapon. He easily sidestepped, and I crashed into another rough wall.
I spun. “I. Will. Gut. You.” Was that my voice?
“Oh, I highly doubt that.”
I saw red as I ran at him again, focusing on the exposed parts of his face. The real beast behind the façade. With a soul-shredding scream, I was just about to impale the monster when I was jolted to a stop. My arms were forced to my sides and caught in a bone-crushing grip.
I struggled like a wild beast against the hold. Kicking, grunting, and even trying to bite whoever, or whatever, was holding me back.
A voice at my ear stopped me. “I’d do what he says, Little Aud. It’s the best deal you’re going to get today.”
Alrik. Liar. Coward. Betrayer.
I’d forgotten about him. A fresh ball of rage consumed me, and I thrust my elbows back into his gut, forcing the air from his lungs. A hot whoosh of breath coated my exposed neck and accompanied a surprised grunt of pain.
He was the one I would end.
I spun and blindly lunged forward with the jagged end of my sword, right into the space where Alrik’s blackened heart should have been. Before I could enjoy the satisfying feeling of shoving my weapon into his body, he dissolved into a poof of mist.
My forward momentum continued, and my sword struck something else. I came to an abrupt stop. I pulled my weapon back through the dissipating cloud of mist—to the sickening sound of suction.
My hand shook when I saw the red liquid that coated the entirety of the jagged blade.
I snapped my head up and stared into the eyes of my friend.
11
Betrayer
NO! No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening.
Joe squinted in pain, and he brought his hand to the wound in his chest. His blood flowed over his fing
ers and down his front to drip onto the dry dirt. The ground sizzled wherever his blood touched, slurping up the life-giving substance and bubbling its thanks.
The sword slipped from my fingers. My pounding heart was so loud it drowned out the rest of the world.
Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump.
Joe’s mouth moved. The words didn’t register. They were buried under layers of shock and the crazy erratic beating of my heart.
What have I done?
I fell to my knees, overcome with emotion as I watched Joe struggle for breath in front of me. Because of what I had done to him.
Satan hadn’t driven that blade into his chest. Alrik hadn’t done it. I had.
I stabbed the one being who loved me unconditionally. Who had traveled through a realm filled with fire and brimstone and horrors—things I was never going to forget—all to save the other half of my heart.
He’d been with me every step of the way, and in repayment, I made him bleed.
I had become the betrayer.
My eyes were glued to his bloody wound.
And then, by some miracle, his words penetrated the fog that weighed down my senses.
“Audrey, look at me.” His words carried such love my heart broke all over again.
I blinked and shook my head. My vision blurred and filled with crimson. I didn’t need to touch my cheek to know my face was coated with tears.
“You have already been—”
A blast of power from behind thrust me forward onto the unforgiving ground. My mouth filled with dirt and grit. Stones pelted my body as a shockwave of energy washed over me. I covered my head with my arms. The pressure was unrelenting and seemingly unending. Despite my efforts, I remained flattened against the earth.
I spotted Joe through the maelstrom of debris whirling around the cell. His eyes were focused on something beyond me. They held a mixture of sadness and disgust. He was propped against the craggy wall; the only part of him affected by the blast was the hair whipping around his head.
