by Sarra Cannon
I turned my eyes forward and there, at the end of the carpet, was a large black altar. Behind it stood the Devil. He was cloaked in dark robes of his own, adorned with red jewels. He wore no hood, but his eyes were the reddest of all, hungry for my death and the power it would bring to him.
A flash of fire spread through me and my eyes were suddenly drawn to a stone. The woman I'd known my whole life as my mother wore it around her neck. She smiled when my eyes met hers, pure evil reflected in her gaze.
She wore a long black dress that looked like something from a century ago. Layers of fabric stretched out behind her, the gown covering her completely, except for her hands and her chest. The large black stone rested above her heart and when my eyes landed on it, I felt Solomon's power locked within its murky depths.
My mother's smile faded and her hand fluttered to the stone. She tried to pull it away from her skin, but it wouldn't move. Her face twisted into a grimace of pain.
I hoped it was burning the shit out of her.
She fell to her knees and some of the vampires in the room shifted uncomfortably.
The Devil narrowed his red eyes at her and she swallowed. She gripped the edge of the black altar and pulled herself up, but her eyes were now wide with panic and fear.
When I reached the front of the room, my body dropped to the floor near the steps leading up to the platform where the Devil and my mother waited. My head bowed to them as if someone were physically holding me down. My hands pressed deep into the lush red carpet.
“Stand, girl.” The Devil's voice echoed through the room.
I lifted my eyes to him, hatred burning inside me.
A thin smile spread across his pale lips. He wanted me to hate him. He wanted me to embrace every dark corner of my heart.
Part of me fought against it, wanting to go back to that place of love I had found earlier, but my anger was too strong now. I had never asked for any of this. A child should not be punished for the evil deeds of its parents. I should not be judged by my father's darkness.
The hatred that lived inside me was not born of evil or a thirst for power. It was born of strength and light and a desire for life.
I pushed myself up from the ground, placing my feet carefully beneath me. I stood straight and tall, wanting him to see that his torture had not broken me. Darkness had not claimed me yet.
The Devil raised his hands and the vampires moved in unison, their eyes and bodies facing forward like obedient soldiers.
Shadows danced across his face.
“Mary Francis, spawn of Solomon, come to me.”
I fought against the puppetry that moved my feet forward, but it was no use. I was compelled to obey. My bare feet walked up the six steps leading to the altar, the black gown flowing softly against my legs.
When I reached the top step, my entire body rose into the air and twisted so that my eyes looked toward the ceiling and my back was now prostrate to the altar. The Devil pulled his hand toward him and I floated just above the flat, black stone. He lowered his hand and my body obeyed, slowly lowering me to the cold surface.
He nodded to my mother and she rushed forward, taking my left hand in hers. For all her talk of power and revenge, her fear was evident in the cold clammy hand that clasped mine.
The stone around her neck seemed to respond to me. It began to emit a dark glow. My mother's hand gripped me tighter and a whimper escaped from her throat.
She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, her chest rising rapidly with each fear-filled breath.
When her eyes snapped open again, they were darker, the whites of her eyes turning murky as shadows swirled inside them. She yanked on my arm, pulling it straight out to the side. She pressed my wrist down on the shiny black surface of the stone and an onyx chain snapped around it, locking my left arm in place.
My mouth went dry. All my hopes of escape or sabotage were quickly disappearing. I had been a fool to think I would have any control over this situation. The Devil's magic was too strong. His plans too detailed.
My mother moved around to the other side and clasped my right hand.
Another wave of pain rushed through her and she jerked, her muscles tensing. Her lips parted and she cried out, but did not lose hold of my hand.
As she had done on the other side, she pressed my right wrist against the stone and another onyx shackle locked my hand in place. She repeated the gesture with both of my ankles.
My breaths came in rapid succession, my heart beating so fast I thought it might burst right out of my chest. I couldn't let this happen. I would not let them sacrifice me. I couldn't allow Solomon's spirit to be reborn. I would not be the cause of so much pain and death in this world.
Rend, where the hell are you? I need you now.
I struggled against the glass-like shackles that held me to the altar, but I knew my strength was not in my arms and legs or my physical body. My true power was within. I had to find a way to connect to that power.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. I focused on the light inside. The light I knew still burned for all that was good and beautiful in this world. I calmed my racing heart, knowing this was my one chance to save myself.
A breeze blew across my skin, ruffling the fabric of my gown.
I reached deeper, imagining an endless well of power at my core. I thrust my consciousness into that well, tapping into that unseen essence and letting it flow through me like the blood pulsing through my veins.
My hair blew around my face as the power ignited within me.
My eyes snapped open and I saw the flash of fear in the Devil's eyes. His nostrils flared and his fangs extended as his lips parted. He snarled and snapped his fingers.
“Bring me the sword.” His voice was deep and commanding.
Footsteps sounded on the steps and Fallon appeared. He handed the Devil a large sword made of pure silver, a diamond embedded in its hilt.
Solomon's sword.
I knew it without question. I could feel his power surrounding it. The memories of the evil deeds he had committed with this sword clung to it.
The Devil wrapped both his bony hands around it, lifting it up with its sharp blade pointed downward toward my heart.
The room around us hung thick with anticipation.
He pressed the tip of the blade against my chest, just above my heart. I cried out as a black shadow forced its way through my body and out of my mouth. The smoke swirled around my body rapidly and the darkness of my father's spirit threatened to consume me. It pushed against my skin, boiling to the surface.
All around us, a great wind roared as my power begged for release.
“Solomon, my brother, how I have waited for this day,” the Devil said, his voice rising above the sound of the whirlwind I'd created.
I had held back for far too long, afraid that if I let the dark side of my heritage grow, I would be lost to it forever. But at the moment just before death, I knew that the only way to win was to embrace both sides of myself. To welcome the darkness and use it in my own way. For my own purpose.
Fallon was right. I could no longer deny who I was.
“Do it,” my mother screamed. Long tendrils of hair blew across her face and she clasped a hand around the stone at her neck. “Do it now.”
I sucked in a breath, taking those dark shadows back into my body. I stopped fighting the dark side of my power, drawing it into myself instead.
The spell that held my power at bay, shattered. My spirit broke free, power blazing through me like hot flames.
I lifted my arms and the onyx shackles exploded. I gripped the blade of the sword with both hands and pulled it upward.
The Devil fell back, taking the sword with him. The sharp blade sliced through my skin and my hands began to bleed, but I ignored the pain. I rose, breaking the shackles that bound my legs and flying into the air. Great black wings spread out from my back.
The vampires near the front cowered, their robes whipping around them as the wind grew
stronger.
“Seize her,” the Devil cried.
Several of his servants shifted to smoke and flew toward me. I drew my hands inward, close to my body, then pushed out. The vampires sailed back into the crowd, slamming against the floor at their brothers' feet.
I waited for the next wave to attack, but the assault came from behind. The Devil sliced through one of my wings with his sword and I cried out in pain. I fell, descending to the altar as a black rope of smoke curled around my neck, cutting off my breath.
My hands scratched at the rope, but couldn't grasp its smokey form.
I remembered this feeling. I remembered the way the vampire had held me back at Rend's safe-house and how, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't grasp the demon rope.
The Devil leapt onto the altar. He grabbed my hair and wrenched my head to the side. His fangs pressed against my neck and he brought the blade of my father's sword to my throat.
Tears of rage spilled down my cheeks.
Was this the end? Had I lost this fight? What more did I have to give?
My wings disappeared and I closed my eyes, pain throbbing in my chest.
But just when I thought all hope was lost, the door at the back of the room crashed open. I lifted my eyes just as Rend rushed through the doorway.
No Greater Sacrifice
Our eyes met across the great expanse of the ritual room and love washed through me.
Several witches moved in behind him, Mary Anne leading the way. They dipped their hands into small leather bags and drew out fistfuls of tiny black beads. They crouched low and rolled the beads onto the floor at the feet of the vampires gathered in rows.
Screams echoed through the room as the vampires shifted to smoke, the essence of their beings writhing in pain as their power was sucked down into the stones.
The Devil tightened his grip on my hair and pulled his other hand backward, the sword slicing into the skin at my neck.
I drew in a breath, connecting with the last drop of power inside me. In an instant, my body disappeared, shifting to shadow as I embraced the demon half of my heritage. The sword sliced through nothingness.
I twirled around, reforming as I gripped the hilt of the sword, pulling it from the Devil's trembling hand.
His eyes flashed deep red as I lifted my father's sword and sliced his arm from his body.
He screamed and fell backward, scrambling off the altar, black sludge oozing from his severed limb.
Chaos erupted around me.
Vampires shifted and fled in fear while those most loyal to the Devil stayed behind to fight.
I glanced back and saw the familiar faces of those I'd met in Peachville as they joined the battle.
I turned my attention back to the Devil. Fallon had crawled to his master's side, but when I lifted the powerful sword toward him, he backed away, disappearing into the shadows at the back of the room.
Black smoke swirled around the Devil's form as he struggled to shift, but the pain of his wound had dampened his power. He pushed back with his legs, scurrying across the floor.
I jumped down from the altar, vengeance gleaming in my eyes.
I walked toward him with deliberate steps. “I am my father's daughter,” I said with a smile. “You of all people should have known better than to underestimate that power.”
The sword was heavy in my hand, but I wielded it well. I lifted it high into the air, but before I could end the Devil's life, a dagger plunged into my back.
I gasped and fell to my knees, the sword clanging to the ground at my feet. Warm blood flowed down my back.
A trembling hand removed the dagger and my mother stepped around my fallen form, her eyes mad with panic. The stone at her neck pulsed with light, as if a heart were beating deep inside. My mother clawed at the stone with her free hand, her movements jerky and frantic.
She kicked Solomon's sword from my reach and pointed the small dagger toward me.
“I am not going to let you ruin this for me,” she spat. “I had a life before you came into this world and you took it away from me. Eighteen long years I wasted taking care of you, and I hated you every second of it. I was meant for more than this. I should have been the one the Mother Crow loved most. I should have been the one she showered with love. But she couldn't see my potential. She couldn't see the great things I was capable of.”
My vision blurred and sweat beaded on my forehead. Fever spread through my body and I collapsed to the floor, barely able to lift my head.
Smoke swirled around the large black stone at her neck as Solomon's power pushed against its cage. My mother twitched, her face contorted and wrinkled.
I pressed my hands flat against the ground and pushed up with all my might, trying to stand. My knees buckled and I fell again to the stone floor. “I refuse to be your sacrifice,” I said.
I crawled toward her, clawing at her gown.
A wisp of black smoke rushed up from behind me and coiled itself around my mother's body. Rend emerged from the shadowy smoke, his fangs sinking into my mother's throat. She screamed and dropped her dagger. She convulsed against him as he drained every last drop of her blood. Her face went slack and pale, her body limp.
Rend tossed her to the ground and turned his blazing red eyes on the Devil, who was inching toward Solomon's sword.
Rend placed his boot on the sword's blade and the Devil's head snapped up in terror.
“The Brotherhood will punish you for this,” the Devil said. “Your life will be over and for what? A human witch? You're a disgrace to everything Solomon and I built in this world.”
“I would give my life a thousand times for love,” Rend said, his voice strong and deep. “There is no greater sacrifice than that.”
He grabbed the Devil up by his robes, lifting him high into the air.
My heart swelled and I found the strength to stand. Rend kicked the silver sword toward me and I bent down, wrapping my hand tightly around the hilt.
I nodded to Rend and he opened his fist, letting the Devil fall to the ground like a ragdoll.
He stepped aside as I approached the evil vampire.
“This is for every innocent life taken by you and by my father,” I said.
I plunged the blade deep into the vampire's chest. His eyes grew wide as he clutched the blade with both hands. The red fire in his eyes faded to a deep black as his life faded.
I pulled the blade back and Rend stepped forward. He placed his hands inside the Devil's mouth and with a terrible cry, he tore him apart, the Devil's body splitting down the middle and erupting into ashes that crumbled to dust in Rend's hands.
I fell to my knees, the wound in my back throbbing.
Rend dropped to my side and gathered me into his arms. My eyelids fluttered as I struggled against the darkness.
He pulled me tight against his chest, rocking back and forth as tears cascaded down his cheeks.
He shouted, but his voice was distant.
He kissed my cheeks and stroked my hair, his body shaking with sobs. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but I couldn't find my voice.
Flashes of light and shadow moved around us as the battle continued, and someone knelt beside us. I recognized Jackson as he placed his hands on my back.
I closed my eyes, feeling death brush against my soul. Knowing there was no other place I'd rather die than in the arms of the man I loved.
A cold chill spread through me.
When you are about to die, they say your life flashes before your eyes. Life's last gift. A single moment of clarity so you can see all the things you did wrong.
Every bad decision.
Every mistake.
Every horrible word you said to someone when you really just wanted them to love you as much as you loved them.
It’s easy to get lost in the regrets of our past, thinking that if we’d only chosen something different, we might have been able to save ourselves a hell of a lot of heartbreak. If we'd only been born to difference circumstances or
been given a second chance, we might have become someone different. Someone better.
Only, the thing is, we should really be giving ourselves credit for just surviving the best way we know how.
At any given moment, we’re all just doing the best we can to survive and make a place for ourselves in this shit-storm we call life.
Looking back, it’s easy to forget just how broken we were when we made those bad decisions. And most importantly, it’s easy to overlook the fact that if we really were able to go back in time and change things, sure, we might avoid some of the worst heartaches of our lives, but at the same time, we also might not be here, right now, with the one person we love most in all the world.
What if my mother had never met Solomon?
What if the Mother Crow had never sent me away?
What if the Devil had never known I existed?
These questions flash through my mind in these last moments, but then all I can think is that one small change—one “better” decision—and I might have missed him altogether.
So you know what? If I had the chance to go back and do it all over again, I wouldn’t change one painful, gut-wrenching, dangerous, terrifying moment of what I’ve been through the past two weeks.
Even knowing it meant the death of me, I’d go through it all over again, just for him.
Someday Soon
Warm sunshine fell across my cheek.
I opened my eyes, expecting heaven. Or hell.
But what I found was life. A second chance.
Rend slept in a chair at my bedside, his body twisted uncomfortably and his face pressed against the back cushion.
Love and gratitude washed through me as tears sprang to my eyes. My body ached and my head pounded, but I was alive. Somehow, I had survived.
I struggled to sit up, wincing as pain shot through the wound in my back.
Rend jerked awake. His eyes met mine and he slid from the chair, falling to his knees at the side of the bed. He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips like a prayer.
