by Tamar Sloan
“But this will,” states Reign.
He lifts his gun and pulls the trigger. The demon jerks backward, slamming into the second one who was just coming through the door. The second one shoves his comrade away, roaring.
“Thanks for the clear shot,” quips Mac as she pulls her own trigger.
The demons sink to the ground, a wisp of black smoke curling up from their mouths.
“Are they dead?” Arielle asks in a whisper.
“It was them or us,” says Reign darkly.
Mac rushes toward the open trap door. “And I’d much prefer it to be them.”
Arielle follows her, her mind reeling. She scrabbles to understand what just happened. Two beings lie lifeless only feet away. And yet, the threat to her mother’s life is painfully real.
Reign is watching her closely, his face shuttered, as she nods decisively. “You’re right.”
Mac disappears down the stairs and Arielle follows, Reign right behind her. A strange red glow emanates from below, as if they’re descending into the bowels of Hell itself. Arielle clutches her gun, knowing she’ll use it if she has to, but really hoping she won’t.
They reach the crypt to find the stone room completely empty. No books. No artifacts. No demons.
Reign spins around one way then the other. “This had better not be a trap…”
Arielle tries to control her breathing. A trap will mean this ends before she even had a chance to save her mom. If it’s not, then they’ve just reached a dead end.
Except…
She inches forward to the shelves across from them. The red glow seems to be coming from behind it. She pulls on them, gasping when they move. Silently, the massive slab of stone opens like a door.
Revealing a large room beyond it with seven stone beds. And seven lifeless women lying on them.
Arielle rushes in, her heart lodged high in her throat. “Mom,” she chokes.
The first woman’s blonde hair is splayed down the altar she’s lying on. Arielle rushes to her side, registering the pale face and unmoving body. “It’s not her.”
Reign is beside the woman as Arielle rushes to the next one. This woman is just as still and pale, and also not her mother.
Mac lifts her hand from a third woman’s neck. “She’s dead.”
“So’s this one,” says Reign heavily.
“No, no, no.” Arielle dashes to the next one, and then the next.
It’s the second last one who’s her mother. Any joy that tries to gain life is quickly guillotined by the sight of more pale skin. A chest that isn’t moving.
“Mom, wake up!” Arielle’s fingers flutter to her mother’s throat. Her knees go weak as she feels nothing. She presses harder, choking on tears that feel like broken glass. “Please, Mom.”
When a faint pulse flickers over her fingertips, Arielle cries out. “She’s alive!”
Reign rushes to her side, checking too. “Barely, but she’s alive.” He tries to slip his arm under her shoulder, only to frown. “She’s stuck.”
“What?” Arielle grips her mother’s upper arms and tugs. Her body doesn’t move. “No!” She yanks harder and her mother’s body jerks, but doesn’t lift from the stone table. Some sort of invisible ties have bound her to the sacrificial altar.
There are footsteps and Reign stands in front of Arielle and her mother, his gun poised. Gabby and Colt run in. Gabby gasps as she sees the seven women. Just like Arielle, she rushes from one to the next.
Except, after checking each one, she stops. Blinking, she does a slow revolution. “She’s not here. My mom’s not here.”
Arielle does her own scan. Gabby’s right. Aunt Shell isn’t here.
“We need to get Sierra out of here, and then we can figure out what’s going on,” says Reign. “But we can’t get her off the altar.”
Colt points to the ceiling. “That’s why.”
Arielle leaps back when she sees what he’s talking about. A red mist is trickling from each altar like blood, moving in small rivulets as it climbs up the walls. Each vein runs into the center of the room and disappears into a hole.
“They’re draining their energy,” Gabby gasps. She points to the first woman Arielle checked. Her vein has dried up. Everyone turns to Arielle’s mother.
The crimson thread winding from her altar is still visible. But barely.
Arielle’s hand flies to her mouth. “We don’t have much time.”
“We need to find the source of the siphon to shut it off,” Colt says. “And fast.”
Panic clutches Arielle’s chest, digging sharp fingers in as if it doesn’t plan on letting go. The source is somewhere in the mansion.
And her mother is dying.
Reign takes her hand. “The sooner we start looking, the sooner we find it.”
Clutching him, Arielle nods. “We have to save her.”
She turns, ready to run like the wind, only to stop. Then take two steps back. The others quickly contract together as Kane enters.
He scans the room, something unholy lighting his eyes. “No one is going anywhere.”
39
Reign
Reign makes sure his body is angled in front of Arielle’s as a sick smile spreads across Kane’s ugly mug. Reign’s gaze flickers to the door behind him. It seems the cocky bastard came alone.
Kane rolls up his sleeves, the smile progressively inching higher. “You can’t stop what’s been started.” He draws in a deep breath as if he’s feeding off the essence of these women. “Not unless you kill me first.
Gabby’s hands are fists by her sides. “That can be arranged.”
As if by some silent agreement, she and Colt leap simultaneously. Kane must’ve been expecting it because he launches forward, too, his arms outstretched. They clash, and Gabby and Colt are launched backwards, slamming into the nearest altar. Kane continues to trudge forward as if he’s just connected with his inner Terminator.
Colt leaps to his feet. “Find the siphon!” he shouts at Reign and Arielle.
Gabby is by his side as they run at Kane again. This time Colt leaps high while she slides low, her legs slicing toward Kane’s. Except Kane vaults into the air and spins. His fist connects with Colt’s jaw. He powers his elbow across Gabby’s. They both reel from the blows.
Reign clasps Arielle’s hand as he glances at Mac. “We need to go. Now.”
Kane is far more powerful than they thought. And stopping the draw of energy is the only way to save Sierra.
Mac is already running to the door. Arielle hesitates for the briefest of seconds, no doubt struggling to leave her mother, but then she’s sprinting, too.
Kane sees them try to leave and he roars as he changes direction. It’s all the distraction Colt and Gabby needed. They launch another attack, this time Gabby successfully sweeping out Kane’s feet as Colt grabs him around the torso. Kane crumples as the two of them try to subdue him.
Reign, Arielle and Mac dash out the door. A last glance over Reign’s shoulder shows Kane powering his feet, Colt and Gabby launching outward as if they were puppets.
If they don’t find this siphon, then more than just Sierra will be drawing their last breath.
Back in the crypt, Reign doesn’t stop. “We need to find the room right above where we just were.”
Already breathing heavily, they bolt up the stairs. The library is still empty, and they race for the door. Reign takes the stairs to the second story two at a time. It means he’s the first to see that there are several demons waiting for them, eyes glowing red with violence.
Reign doesn’t slow his sprint. Demons mean they’re getting close to the siphon.
He ploughs into the first one, using the demon as a battering ram to slam into the next one. The one he’s holding lands several punches in his side, but Reign blocks out the pain. He can hurt later. There are people to save.
Two punches to the demon’s jaw and he’s out cold, blood trickling from his nose. The one beneath them hits his head on the wall on th
e way down, and he crumples, unconscious, too. Reign leaps to his feet, seeing Mac duck then uppercut another demon. Arielle is standing at the top of the stairs, looking determined and terrified.
The last demon launches at her and Reign leaps. If the demon reaches Arielle, all it will take is a push and she’ll be tumbling back down the stairs. Unwanted images of Arielle lying at the bottom, limbs and neck at grotesque angles, has him pushing with all his might.
He sails through the air and collides with the demon, toppling him to the ground. Arielle darts out of the way a split second after the demon would’ve grabbed her. He roars as he hits the floor, twisting as his hands come up to grasp Reign’s neck. Now on top, he grabs it and doesn’t let go.
Reign struggles but the demon’s hands are like a steel vice clamped around his throat. He flails his arms wildly, but the punches glance off the man’s arms and face. He scratches, but the demon doesn’t even flinch as red gashes open across his cheek.
Reign’s lungs spasm in their desperation for air. His brain fights as hard as his body does, but they both lose strength as they’re starved of oxygen.
“Die, human filth,” growls the demon.
A second before there’s the sound of something smashing and he crashes on top of Reign. Drawing in great gulps of air, Reign pushes him off. Arielle stands above them, shards of porcelain scattered around her.
Reign leaps to his feet, realizing oxygen never tasted so good. “Thanks,” he pants.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m just repaying the favor.”
Mac steps over the unconscious demon. “That was the ugliest vase I’ve ever seen. You were doing the antique world a favor, too.” She glances at the door they’re beside. “My guess is that’s the room above the altars.”
It’s why so many demons were outside guarding it.
Arielle yanks the door open, revealing an empty room. In the center, a scepter rises from the timber floor, a glowing red orb in the center.
“That’s it,” Arielle breathes, two emotions powering her voice.
Relief that they’ve found the siphon.
Worry that they’re too late.
They enter the room and Reign’s not sure how no one else can hear his heartbeat. Surely his pulse is registering on the Richter scale. Colt never said what to do with the siphon once they found it.
The scepter’s been impaled into the center of the floor, the crimson, pulsing orb held by a golden claws.
Mac points at the sphere. “It’s not completely full.”
She’s right. The last few millimeters at the top are empty.
“We got here just in time.” Arielle goes to move but Reign shoots an arm out to stop her.
“I’ll pull it out,” he says, hoping to heck it’s going to be as easy and straightforward as it sounds. “Then we bring it back to the altars.”
Arielle frowns. She knows this could be dangerous. She opens her mouth, no doubt to object, when Mac strides forward.
“Let’s save the arguing. I’ll get it.”
She’s taken two steps when the door crashes open. A demon stands in the doorway, two jagged cuts down his cheek and blood trickling down his temple. It’s the demon who tried to strangle Reign. The one he scratched. The one Arielle knocked out by smashing a vase over his head.
“Shit,” Reign mutters, his stomach turning to stone. “They can heal.”
And the demon’s not alone. He enters the room, eyes as red as Hell as more step in, smiling as they spread around the room like the plague. They know they have Reign and the others trapped. There’s no way out beyond a wall of demon.
The demons move in unison, becoming a tidal wave of evil trying to engulf them. Reign pulls his handgun out. He’s pretty sure he hates these things more than Mac. He’s lived on the streets long enough to have learned they’re the embodiment of death. But right now, they’re the only thing that will keep Reign, Arielle, and Mac alive.
He lines up the first demon, aiming for the chest, and pulls the trigger. His arms snap with the recoil and the demon drops, black mist coiling from his mouth. Reign swings his arms right and repeats the process. Aim. Shoot. Move onto the next murderous bastard.
He feels someone at his back, and he instantly knows it’s not Mac. The shoulders are too high, the pressure more heightened. Arielle.
She’s covering his back while Mac tries to get to the scepter.
Shutting down any chance of feeling guilt or regret or horror at what’s happening, Reign hits replay. Aim. Shoot. Move onto the next murderous bastard.
“Mac!” Arielle shouts.
From the corner of his eye, Reign sees that a demon has hold of his best friend. The mammoth-sized man strikes her, then strikes her again, her body jolting with each blow. Except more demons are pouring through the doorway. Reign takes his sights off them, and they’ll be overrun. But, Mac needs him…
Arielle’s back jerks into his as she pulls her own trigger. The demon who was pummeling Mac drops like the sack of turds he is. Arielle draws in a sharp breath and Reign’s heart constricts.
She just killed a demon so she could save Mac’s life.
Mac sways for a few seconds then crumples, too. “Mac,” Arielle shouts.
Mac falls onto all fours. Her head hangs down as if it’s too heavy to hold up, blood dripping onto the demon Arielle killed. She looks up at Reign, her dark eyes filled with sorrow.
And as the one person who’s always stood by Reign fails to find the strength to get back up, the new recruits who just arrived fan out, ready to repeat their own process—strike. Kick. Do whatever it takes to kill the humans.
“Get the scepter,” Reign says to Arielle. “Now!”
Arielle vaults forward as Reign opens fire. He gets the first demon in the chest. The second in the arm. He steadies his aim, knowing he can’t afford to lose his cool, and shoots again.
Click.
Nothing happens. His gun is out of demon-ending bullets.
His heart feels like it’s turned to ice as Reign looks to Arielle. They have a few seconds at most before they’re overrun by Hell spawn.
Arielle runs, her blonde hair a sail behind her as she leaps over the fallen bodies and reaches the scepter. Without looking up, she grabs it and yanks it out of the floor.
A ripple of energy blasts through the room like a tidal wave, rocking Reign hard enough that he braces himself, ready to run toward Arielle. But it’s not them affected by the surge. It’s the demons.
As the tide of energy explodes through them, they collapse. Their bodies convulse on the floor, backs arched and mouths gaping. Arielle and Reign freeze as black mist pours out like a silent scream. The columns of midnight vapor writhe and twist as they spew out, crawling and squirming along the walls and ceiling to the nearest exit. Every door and window and vent become clogged with escaping black souls.
“Reign,” Arielle gasps.
He turns to see what she’s looking at. Ice spears through his heart as he jolts into action.
“Mac!” Reign falls to his knees beside her. His best friend’s eyes have rolled back in her head, the tendons of her neck standing out in sharp relief as her spine arches in a painful curve.
He doesn’t understand what’s going on.
She’s convulsing like every other being in this room.
40
Arielle
Arielle is frozen in place as Reign tries to take Mac in his arms, only for her to slip out over and over because her body is wracked with seizures. Around them, the demons have stopped convulsing, their bodies limp and lifeless.
Mac is still jerking in the same way the demons did, even though the others have stopped. There’s also no black mist pouring from her mouth. What does that even mean?
Arielle takes a step toward them when her foot hits something solid. She leaps back, expecting to see another dead body, only to see it’s not. It’s a book. A large, leather tome. Two words are embossed across the front.
Infernal Damasicus.
&nbs
p; She kneels down to pick it up, except the moment her fingers brush the aged leather, it flies open. Thick, aged pages flutter as if a breeze just blew in. As quickly as it started, the book stops, now open to a page somewhere in the middle.
Arielle’s about to pick it up again when she sees the drawing on the right-hand side. An obelisk. Lying beside it is a woman, a dark line down her chest that can only be blood. Cracks streak up the obelisk like lightning, wisps of black creeping up from it.
Although the image is in black and white, it’s vivid and terrifying. It’s like a sepia snapshot of her nightmares. Someone has painted what Arielle desperately hoped was impossible. What could never come true.
Her eyes flick to the second page. Three lines have been written in large, ornate print. The cursive would almost look beautiful if it wasn’t for the ugly words they paint.
Seven Gates opened.
Seven Sins unleashed.
And the Lord of Hell will be free.
“Arielle,” Reign says sharply, jolting her out of the strange hold the book had on her. “We need to get back to the altar room.”
Arielle snaps the Infernal tome shut and tucks it under her arm. With the scepter in her other hand, she runs to Reign.
He’s standing, an unconscious Mac in his arms. “Let’s go.”
Arielle nods. “Is she okay?”
“She will be,” Reign states flatly. “Or I’ll kick her butt.”
They rush out of the room and down the stairs and Arielle ignores the bodies she has to navigate around. They’ve stopped the flow of energy.
There’s a chance they could save her mother.
Arielle runs into the library, Reign still carrying Mac right behind her, and sprints to the trap door. They’re almost there.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Arielle spins around at the roared command. A demon is striding through the door, several more filing in behind him. They fan out along the circular wall, faces snarling and feral.
“In fact, you won’t be leaving this library.”
