by Nick Freo
She placed her hands above the witch’s abdomen. Her eyes flickered up to the witch’s face, her furrowed brow and tight lips changing into an expression lacking any tension. Her hand covered half her face.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Did it fail for you too?”
“She’s gone,” Cara whispered, lowering her hand. Lines of blood were left behind on her cheeks from her hand. “I had barely started the process when I couldn’t see her heart beating. The heart is required for angelic healing to work. We can’t bring a heart back to life.”
I recalled the way I had seen the interior of my legs when I healed them. I could imagine Cara’s magic seeping throughout the woman’s body, seeing the woman’s heart, and witnessing it stop. I put my hand on her back. She shrugged it off, standing up. There was blood on the back of her coat now too.
“If one of these women is Serena, we’re screwed,” she said. “And considering our track record, we might as well prepare for being screwed.”
“I know what she looks like,” I said.
“What color hair does she have?”
The drawing that Mr. Gray had produced flashed in my mind. “I actually don’t know. But I know her facial features. We can check each woman.”
I glanced over at Lilah. She was staring into the distance, her mouth slowly forming words as she tried to figure out what happened.
“She’s not going to be any help,” Cara said. “Let’s just check them one by one.”
We checked the women. Many of their heads were tucked against their chests. It would be uncomfortable to raise the head of any dead person, but it was made worse by the fact that they were all naked and drenched in blood. I tried to get down low enough to check each face without touching them, but the dim lighting, the blood, and the inanimate ugliness made it difficult to discern if they were Serena Foster or not. Cara was right—if Serena was dead, our investigation would fall apart, but we needed to know for certain or else we could end up chasing our tails until the Dead Man or some demons killed us all.
I lowered the head of the last one, her blood mixing with the other women’s blood on my hands. “None of them are Serena.”
Cara rubbed her temple. “Well. I’d say that’s good news, but that feels entirely inappropriate.”
I rubbed the blood between my fingertips. A tiny flame appeared between my fingers. I hadn’t summoned it, but I could understand why it had emerged. When I had seen all those street demons killed, it hadn’t been a celebratory moment, but I hadn’t been too upset about it. They were demons, and they lacked some of the softer, more human traits I had seen in Lilah. Seeing these dead women—these witches—reminded me of my father’s death. My father had been a wizard, and he was violently killed too. And for what? For Serena Foster? For something that the Celestial Court wanted? Because some demons hated angels?
“Cara.” I looked it up. “Mr. Gray said that as Arbiter, I am judge, jury, and executioner. Is that right?”
Cara blinked before slowly nodding her head. “Yes. That is, when all is said and done, your job.”
“It’s your job to prevent Heaven and Hell from tearing each other apart on Earth,” Lilah interjected, finally snapping out of her reverie. “Your job isn’t based around revenge.”
“You know what the job has always entailed, Lilah,” Cara said. “In order to prevent Heaven and Hell from tearing each other apart, he must be willing to use his powers to punish those that would threaten the natural order of things.”
Lilah crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s just go. There’s nobody to be executed here because they’re all dead. There’s nothing we can do for any of them.”
The bitterness in her voice cut through the room with enough force that Cara followed her out. I kept an eye on both of them. I couldn’t be certain if I wanted to prevent them from killing each other or if I was wary of allowing anyone to hurt either of them.
On the elevator ride back up to the ground floor, Cara kept looking at her hands as if they had failed her while Lilah stared at the space right in front of her shoes. When we left the elevator, I let the two of them take the lead again. I kept an eye open for anyone approaching us, but there was no one. It was more unnerving than when the hotel employees seethed with hatred around us.
We left the hotel. As we were crossing the road to the parking lot, a young man started hustling toward us, wearing baggy jeans, an oversized white shirt, and a large gold chain around his neck. Not a man. A demon. He grinned at Lilah, waving at her.
“Did we get them good?” he called out.
All the bodies, all the blood, all the tension twisting inside me like a hurricane—it came hurtling out as I rushed at him. I seized the demon by the throat. For one second, I felt the muscles twitching under my palm and his nails scraping at my hand. The next second, a cracking noise seeped into the air, and his neck felt like gelatin. His eyes were wide, but there was nothing in them except my own reflection. I relaxed my hand, and the demon fell to the road.
I pivoted on my heel. Cara and Lilah stared at me.
“Kyle…” Cara started. I shook my head.
“I didn’t mean to,” I said. “But I don’t regret it. You heard what he said. That was a confession. I’m judge, jury, and executioner. He just served his sentence.”
I flexed my hand. I hadn’t intended to kill him. I had only meant to grab him by the neck, but I was stronger than when I’d fought the angels. Or demons had brittle spines; they lacked backbones.
I looked down at the demon. For half a second, the way his body was slumped, it reminded me of my father inside my car. And the abdomen wound, cloaked in blood, on my father reminded me of the dead witches. My mind cycled through the images over and over, and after every cycle, the weight of it pressed down on my nerves even more.
“You must be drawing strength from both Lilah and me now,” Cara said. “We’ve both given you a portion of our power. It would be understandable that you don’t know your own strength right now.”
“I should have decided to sell my soul sooner, then,” I said. “I knew these street demons were bad news the moment I saw Donnie, but I let it go because I was too desperate. The witches’ blood is on my hands. I need to make up for it, and I’m going to.”
“You’re getting loud, Kyle,” Lilah said, her eyes scanning the street. “You need to take a deep breath. You need to think before you act. Remember what I told you about the demon community. Once it comes out that you killed this one, they’re going to be pissed. If you retaliate again, they’re going to hold it against you forever. If we just take some time—”
“We’re out of time,” I said. “I’m tired of being the asshole that’s always waiting, always needing permission, always coming to the murder a second too late. We’re going to visit Stephos and his street demons, and we’ll see what they have to say for themselves.”
I walked to the BMW, trying to keep my anger right under the surface. I would need it soon. Come hell or high water, I would need that anger.
And I would be the executioner, as was my birthright.
Chapter 17
I parked on the corner of Franklin Road and Chapel Street again. Cara sat in the front while Lilah sat behind me. When I got out, Cara quickly retreated beside me, but Lilah took longer to get out. She kept a few feet behind us. Cara kept glancing back at her, but I wasn’t worried about her loyalties. Whenever I turned my head to survey the area, I could see her looking for possible enemies too.
But Franklin Road was empty.
“It’s almost like we missed the apocalypse,” Cara said, pulling her coat tighter around her. “First, the hotel, and now this street.”
“This street wasn’t that busy before,” I said, though I’d had the same thought as her. “Besides, there were drivers and pedestrians on the other roads.”
The sound of our footsteps filled the silence for several minutes. I kept rubbing my hands together, trying to cause enough friction for the blood to come off them, but my hands seem
ed to be permanently stained. Cara scraped at the blood on her own hands, but she didn’t have as much on them.
We were almost to Stephos’ apartment building when I saw a demon, dressed in a wifebeater and cargo shorts, crushing a cigarette beside an old oak tree. He stared at us for a second before scowling and turning his back towards us. I glanced at Cara. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring her.
“Cara.” I stopped. Cara and Lilah stopped as well. Lilah remained a few feet behind us. “Maybe you shouldn’t come with us.”
“Kyle, you might need help. My presence could lead to resistance from the demons, but that’s a risk we’ll have to take.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” I said. “Demons tore apart those four angel guards—and those angel guards were a combined force, ready to deal with violence. You’re one angel. They’ll be more motivated to hurt you than Lilah or I. I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt because I was stupid.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “The guards’ and witches’ death weren’t your fault.”
“I would feel better if you didn’t come along,” I said.
“I know. But I’m coming anyway.”
I was certain I could pick her up, take her somewhere, and lock her away, but I needed to confront Stephos as soon as possible. I needed all this rage boiling under my skin, and I needed to confront him before he disappeared or killed more people.
“Fine. Let’s keep moving then.”
The wave of heat lashed against me as we stepped past the fence around the apartment building. There were only five demons outside now, huddling around each other like they were discussing a football play. Heads turned as they began to notice us. A couple of them nodded at Lilah, but they didn’t make any move towards us. Their eyes followed us. After we stopped about six feet in front of them, Lilah stepped forward.
“Brothers,” she nodded at them. “We’re not here to cause trouble. We only want information. If you all are—”
I stepped in front of her, my elbow bumping against her arm. “Did you kill the witches at the hotel?”
The demons exchanged glances. There was a low rumble of noise, whispers passing back and forth between them. The heat in the vicinity intensified. Beads of sweat rippled under my clothes, and the air felt too thick for my lungs.
As I readied myself to start interrogating them, a demon stepped forward. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, though he had shaved his head and had a tattoo of the word envy above his forehead.
“Hell yeah.” He hit his fist against his chest. “It was like a carnival game. Well, it was all fun and games until I gave them another broom to ride on.”
He grabbed at his crotch before laughing, looking back at the other demons for approval. Some of them smiled and laughed too. Fire crackled under my skin. When my hand grabbed onto the demon’s throat, I could feel the hellfire pulsing in my palm. Before I could reflect on how useless and unnecessary it would be, I felt the demon’s neck snap, his eyes rolling back and his body going limp in my hand.
An eruption of noise filled the area. The demons lunged at me. Cara rushed forward, slamming one of them to the ground. I jabbed my fist into the chest of one of them, feeling his ribs break under my knuckles. My other fist rammed into the throat of another demon. One of the demons raised his hand, hellfire gathering in his palm, and he aimed it at Cara. I grabbed his wrist, snapping it, and threw him to the ground. When he tried to get up, I grabbed his head between my hands and slammed it into the asphalt. Blood poured from his head like a broken egg.
I felt a whoosh of air behind me. Cara had tackled another demon, pinning him to the floor. She put him into a headlock, their bodies rocking back and forth along the asphalt.
I was going to do to them what they had done to those witches.
A demon came running at me. I slammed my fist into a demon’s throat. As he choked, his hands clinging to his neck, my hand covered his mouth and grasped the back of his head. I twisted his head and didn’t stop until I heard the crack. A demon tackled me. His fist slammed into my nose. Blood sprayed out, but my vision was already filled with red. I grabbed the demon by his hair, my fist ramming into his temple over and over. I could feel his skull slowly fracturing, but I didn’t stop until it gave way.
When I slid his dead body off of me, I saw Cara standing over another dead demon, blood staining her clothes and splashed up her neck. I moved toward her. She shook her head, her eyes wide and her chest heaving.
“He was trying to kill me,” she said. “Angels are only meant to kill during war.”
“It’s fine,” I said, wiping the blood off her face. It smeared, painting her whole throat red. I nudged one of the bodies with my foot. “They all deserved it. The judge and jury part of my job decided that.”
As I looked up at her, I felt the slight pressure as a hand grasped my ankle. The demon I had nudged with my foot yanked my ankle. I fell onto my back as he threw an uppercut at Cara. I barely saw her fall before the demon was on top of me. He was bigger than the rest. When his fist slammed against my temple, flashes of color erupted in my head. When he hit me again, there were dark spots. On the third hit, I could feel my body urging me to let go—to fade into unconsciousness in order to avoid the pain.
The next second, his weight was off me. I looked through the blood on my face. His throat had been torn out, leaving an ugly red gaping wound as he fell to the ground beside me. I lifted my head a little more. Lilah stood over me, her hand holding a red rag. No, not a rag. His throat.
“Thanks,” I muttered, sitting up and wiping the blood away from my eyes. I slowly rose to my feet. Lilah dropped the throat, wiping the blood onto my coat.
A door banged open. Lilah and I turned toward the noise as Cara sat up, healing her injured jaw. Stephos and five more demons stormed toward us. Adrenaline pounded inside me, my heart acting like a war drum. I charged straight at Stephos, my right fist raised. As he ducked to avoid my fist, I feinted. My other fist shot up, cracking into his jaw. He stumbled backward. One of his buddies grabbed onto me, yanking me back. I used the distance to sweep my leg under another demon running toward me. As he was falling, I swung my fist around, punching the demon that had his hands on me. As he stumbled back, grasping his broken cheekbone, another demon charged straight into me. We fell onto the asphalt. Fists pummeled my face. As I managed to grab onto his elbow, yanking it backward, a foot swung into his head, sending him careening backward. Lilah stood above me. She offered me her hand, and I took it.
I barely had time to look at her before a demon grabbed me by the throat. As he began to squeeze, I could see Cara struggling with a demon on the asphalt, her teeth sinking into his arm, and a few feet away, Lilah throwing a demon onto the ground. I rammed a fist into the demon’s head, but he kept his grip. I grasped his head near his temples. He struggled against my grip, but I held him tightly as I plunged my thumbs into his eyes. He let me go, but I kept pushing inward until I felt the slippery texture give way with a pop. He screamed, and I didn’t care.
As I let him keel to the ground, I surveyed the scene. Lilah straddled a demon, her knuckles blood and bruised, and the demon motionless underneath her. Cara was flat on her back, the demon beside her twitching as he bled out.
I saw Stephos in my periphery for a second before his fist crashed against the side of my face. I stumbled backward. Before I could regain my balance, he punched me in the head again. I fell onto my knees. He came at me, lifting his right leg to kick me. I shifted all my weight to my left side and drove my right foot at his left ankle. His legs came out from under him. As he fell, I jumped onto my feet. He rolled away from me, already nearly on his feet when I jabbed him in the ribs. He stumbled onto his ass.
“Get up,” I ordered. “I want people to know that when I killed you, I killed you on your feet.”
He wiped a trail of blood off his jaw. He glanced to his right, where two of his subordinates were lingering. One of them looked like he might colla
pse and the other one didn’t look much better.
“You’re different,” Stephos remarked, his ass remaining firmly on the ground. Blood continued to streak down his chin. “I can smell that angel stench on you now. You gave up power for…what? A holier-than-thou attitude? So, you can kill and pretend that you aren’t just as bad as the rest of us?”
I rubbed my hands. They would hurt like hell later, but right now they just wanted to hit something over and over until everything was broken. The smoothness of the ring stopped me. It was white now.
How simple. How quaint.
“You think you’re better than us?” Stephos demanded. He slowly stood up, keeping a careful eye on me. I took a step forward. He took a step back. Doubt clouded his eyes. “You’re a fool. Tell me what the angels gave you that was so much better than what we could give you.”
“They didn’t give me anything,” I said. “This is my job serving the Arbiter. I’m delivering punishment for the murders of the seven witches on McGill Street.” I raised my palm to show him my Arbiter's mark.
Stephos scowled. “What’s your evidence that any of my people committed any murder?”
“You’re guilty based on numerous admissions,” I said. Stephos gestured in front of him. For a man of his size, helplessness seeped out of him like sweat.
“There is no reason any of my brothers or sisters—” He started. He rubbed some blood off his chin. “There is no reason any of my people would admit to that. Even if it were true.”
Lilah stepped forward. I swung my arm out to stop her from approaching Stephos, but she didn’t try to get any closer.
“Are you saying that you didn’t kill the witches?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying,” Stephos said. “Someone beat us to it.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said. “The demon at the hotel said that he did, and the one here said that they did it. That’s two confessions, and we knew you wanted to kill the witches. You told us that you had a hit on Serena Foster.”
