Waltzing into Damnation (The Deception Dance Book 3)

by Rita Stradling

  “There’s so much I need to tell you about everything that happened,” I whisper as my fingers dig into his vest.

  “No, you don’t, Raven.” He stiffens. “You don’t. I was there through all of it.”

  “What--?” I ask as I look up.

  He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “Maybe I actually have been compromised—I don’t know. A year in his head, a year talking back and forth . . .” He squeezes his eyes shut. “The anguish he felt during that kiss.”

  That kiss.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

  “Don’t be—I’m a soldier, Raven. I was right where I needed to be in the war. I’m not saying I wanted any of it to happen—I didn’t. But the information I’ve learned about the demons, their positions, strategies. I’ve lived for this war my whole life, Raven, and I learned more in one week with Andras than is in all of my ancestor’s records. On the inside, I was able to convince Andras to look for a way to reverse demon infection. And I think we figured it out . . .” His eyes fill with excitement while he talks. “Babylon. We could save so many people—millions, bring them back.”

  Stephen smiles, breaking the tension filling the cramped space, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I find myself doing both. Staring into his tired face, I memorize him once more—even though I already have his every feature encoded in the deepest part of my memory.

  “You think I’m compromised too, don’t you?” he asks, still sporting that small smile, but I know he’s joking. “Or do I have something on my face?”

  “I kept telling everyone I would get you back—but I never actually believed it was possible, I think.”

  “I didn’t think I was going to come back. I was trying so hard to get the message to you about Babylon, but Andras refused to tell you anything that might convince you to further seek her out. After everything that happened, I understand why. You were magnificent.” Leaning down, his lips brush across mine ever so gently. “We’re going to survive today, and then we are going to change everything together.”

  I hold perfectly still, tasting his peppermint breath on my lips—wanting to press my face against his and hold him and touch him so much but knowing after everything that happened with Andras, I can’t be the one to initiate it.

  Abruptly, Stephen leans back, sliding his visor in place. “The doors are about to open.”

  Quickly, I step away and look down at the floor as the doors slide open to reveal an empty hallway.

  What if this is the only chance to kiss him ever again? The question thrums through my mind and hovers on my lips, but I swallow it down.

  As if he can sense my thoughts, he turns to me. “We just need to survive today.”

  The elevator door reveals a hallway that has the same nondescript, buffed-metal spaceship feeling of the rest of the training center. And I want to make some sort of response—tell him how much it means to me that he’s okay and already planning to save the world, but Stephen walks ahead before I can even think of anything to say.

  We round a corner to where two men stand guarding a solid metal door. Worried expressions sit on both of their young faces. One man couldn’t be older than me, twenty-one at most. Blond hair curls around his ears as sweat and tears trickle down his face and off his chin.

  The other man is perhaps thirty, and he glares at the wall while he grips two handholds on an enormous gun.

  “Go be with your families,” Stephen calls down the hall.

  The younger man doesn’t hesitate. He wipes his eyes and nose on his sleeve and sprints past without giving either of us a second glance.

  We aren’t so lucky with the remaining soldier.

  Slowly, he turns. Several battle scars crisscross his face, and any trace of emotion vanishes from his features. He peers between Stephen and me, saying, “I thought the prisoner’s request to see Raven Smith was denied?”

  “That decision was overturned.” Stephen doesn’t break stride.

  At the door, Stephen presses his finger to the keypad there. A blue light traces over his thumb once, then the keypad blinks red.

  “Access denied!” The guard slams his hand into Stephen’s visor, sending the helmet off. The soldier’s tired eyes widen as recognition lights over his features. “Stephen?”

  In that moment of hesitation, Stephen lifts up his own space-age gun and slams it into the soldier’s head. The soldier goes down, crumpling to the floor on top of his own gun.

  “I didn’t want to do that. I’m sorry, my friend,” Stephen whispers to the man as he grabs up the soldier’s hand and presses it to the keypad. “They must have realized I escaped and still had access to the panels.”

  The keypad clicks. and the door to the room slides open. From a metal bench on the far side of the room, Andras looks up from where he’s slumped over. Unlike Stephen and me, he’s still dirty and covered in blood.

  “Raven,” he whispers as his green eyes find mine. Relief shines on his features as a small smile flits across his full lips. It’s like we’d just met up randomly at a park rather than me breaking into his jail cell.

  “I’m going to conceal this soldier in a cell and impersonate a guard. Raven, knock when you have the information,” Stephen calls as he closes the door, leaving me alone with Andras.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Day Five

  When the door closes, Andras’ cell is entirely a metal box—icebox, more like. It’s freezing. There’s a circle grate at the top and the bottom of the square room, but otherwise, there’s no break at all from the polished steel. It even stinks like metal.

  “That man is a pain in my ass.” A small smile touches Andras’ lips as he looks at where the metal door is now closed. “Obviously, Stephen didn’t bring you here for a social call. But I’m glad you came. It’s not safe out there for you, and I can keep you safe in here.”

  His words stand in stark contrast to his appearance; he doesn’t even look able to fully open his bruised eyes, let alone protect anyone.

  Gashes at his stomach still seep blood onto his tattered remains of a shirt. His complexion has more of a gray tone than anything else. New bruises darken his cheeks and one of his eyes.

  “Did they beat you?” I ask as I rush over and kneel before him on the metal floor. The cold of the metal seeps through my loose, Leijonskjöld lost-and-found jeans, but I ignore it.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” he says with a shake of his head.

  “To me, it does.”

  “Did you have something to tell me, or did you just miss me, Raven?” He smiles slowly. “If you came to give me a kiss goodbye, I will allow it.”

  “What is wrong? You’re bleeding, and . . .” I examine his bloody torn mess of a shirt. “You look like you’re dying.”

  “It’s strange because I still know when you’re telling the truth even though I’m a human now.” He laughs, but it ends in a wince and heavy breathing.

  “Well, I haven’t tried to lie to you yet,” I say as I examine the bruises on his face. “What did they do?”

  He meets my gaze, his hazel, bloodshot eyes shining with a feverish intensity. “Raven, it doesn’t matter. Just tell me why you’re here, then I have a plan to make a blockade until sunrise.”

  “The open seal of Solomon—the one you and your demons come through—I need to close it with the key, and I need to do it now.”

  He gives me a look that clearly says I’m out of my head. “You want to go back to hell?”

  “Barbas said—”

  “Barbas was a fool.” Andras shakes his head. “If someone told him what he wanted to hear and it had the ring of truth, he wouldn’t even question the words they used. No one knows for sure the kleis tou thanatou kai tou adou can close seals as well as open them—it has never been tested—it is a theory.”

  “Can we test it, then?”

  “Raven . . . there is no question in my mind Satan is doing everything in his power to get you before the angels come for you. It’s a very bad
idea. The end of days is inevitable—”

  “But not yet, Andras. Please, I’ve never had a real chance at living—not in this life, and not as Elena. The whole time I’ve been hell’s tool—and I know that isn’t all your fault now. You told me you love me . . .”

  He stares intently at me, almost warily, before he nods. “I love you.”

  “Damn it. I don’t mean to be manipulative—I’m not trying to do that. But I don’t want to die, not before I’ve ever really lived. And I don’t want everyone I love to die. If you know a way—even if it’s just a slight chance of us succeeding, I need to try.”

  “It risks—”

  “Hell for eternity, I know. But we’re not good people, right? We can make the wrong choices for all the right reasons together.”

  He sighs, his eyes closing. “Well, I have plenty of blood—do you have any salt?”

  I slowly climb to my feet. “You’re talking about summoning a demon?”

  “It’s the only way I can think of that humans can get to that seal without going through the kleis tou thanatou kai tou adou—or being dragged there by a demon.” Wincing with his every movement, Andras pushes his arm into the metal bench and leverages himself up.

  I step back toward the door, tripping on absolutely nothing.

  Andras grabs my arm, keeping me upright. I’m trembling, I realize, quaking.

  He stands over me, so close that I feel the warmth of his breath in this cold room.

  “Andras . . . you know that . . .” I swallow. “We had some moments together, some intense moments. But I really hope you’re not helping me because you think I’m going to be with you if you do; that’s not what this is about, right?”

  His hand drops to grip his wounded side, and his exhaustion gives way to a look that is beyond exasperated. “You continuously feel the need to remind me of that.”

  “Well—just after what I said about—you know, you loving me. I don’t want you to go back to hell for me because I’m somehow leading you on that this . . .” I point between him and me, “is going to happen again. Because it’s not.”

  “I got that,” he says as he grips his bloody stomach.

  What is wrong with me? He’s literally dying in front of me, and I’m unnecessarily rejecting him . . . again.

  “Okay,” I say.

  Andras raises his dark brows at me. “What I also know is that the only man you have ever been in love with in either of your lives is me. I know you married me and all the times you told me you hated me, you lied.”

  Guilt. Gone.

  “You tricked me—anytime I felt love toward you, it was based on manipulation. And—and that’s probably not even true, what you’re saying—you can lie now,” I realize. “You’re lying.”

  “You know I’m not.” He shakes his head slowly. “But yes, I do know you’re going to choose to be with Stephen Tapper because he normalizes the shadows in your soul, even though you are the furthest thing from normal—you’re extraordinary. That terrifies you most of all.”

  “Stop it,” I whisper. “You don’t know shit—you’re just back to your go-to of manipulating me to get what you want.”

  “Except I’m not, Raven. You think being with that guy is going to make you happy, and I want you to be happy. So at the end of all of this, if I can walk away, I will. I decided it before now, and I’m not going to change my mind.” He holds his hands out toward me.

  “Good.” I glance down at his hands. “What—what do you want?”

  “I thought you came here for my help--I’m going to summon Fenrisúlfur. Of all the demons in hell, he’s the least likely to kill us both the moment he arrives.” Andras tilts his head, and his tousled long brown hair falls to the side as he considers something. “It’s likely he will try to kill us at some point, though. He’s a demon, and we can’t make a circle without salt. Take my hands.”

  “Andras,” I say as I push his hands down, “We’re on hallowed ground. Let’s go get Stephen, and we’ll sneak out together.”

  “Raven, no, we’re not on hallowed ground. Cassidy could not have appeared as a lioness within these grounds if it was still blessed. Even before Satan had this very strict deadline, the Leijonskjöld rarely kept it from being desecrated once a day in the last few months. Satan is highly motivated now.” Andras gestures to the door. “And if you involve Stephen Tapper, he’ll probably insist on coming with us. That man wants to save people whether or not he dies doing it—that’s what drives him. Is that what you want?”

  “No.”

  When Andras holds his hands up again, I take them. His fingers squeeze mine, feeling so soft and warm in this cold, sterile room.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  I stare into his hazel eyes, realizing there’s now yellow and gold speckled in it, and I say, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “I understand,” he says. “Don’t touch Fenrisúlfur’s—”

  “Teeth, I know.”

  Nodding, Andras squeezes my hands once and then starts chanting. The language he speaks in is both foreign and familiar; it creeps over my skin and sends chills down my spine.

  Shadows slink up around us, clinging to the corners and lengthening the room.

  Every other time I was present for a demon summoning, they’d enticed the demon to come. I was pretty sure what we were doing was a very different type of summoning.

  The words burrow under my skin like thousands of bugs, and I start to pull away from Andras, but he grips my hands tighter. His voice grows louder, whispery and petrifying me to my core.

  It happens so fast, I almost miss it. Dark mist amasses in the room, solidifying, shifting and growing. One moment we’re alone in the metallic cell, then Andras and I are pressed along the cold wall with the giant hell-wolf filling the room almost entirely.

  Fenrisúlfur roars, baring teeth that drip a steaming tar. A blast of nauseating sulfur fills the room, burning my eyes.

  Pushing me behind him, Andras yells something that sounds like, “Beil-em!” Through labored breaths and more than one wince, he pulls off his bloody mess of a shirt and chucks it up at the beast.

  Fenrisúlfur grabs it out of the air, munching it down.

  Between the demon wolf’s tree-trunk sized legs, the door to the room slides open.

  “Raven,” Stephen calls, though all I can see of him are his combat boots. “Come on. Get out of there . . . now.”

  “I’m okay—stay over there, all right?” I call as I slowly look up . . . and up, into the giant maw of the demon wolf.

  A puddle of black slobbers splashes at my feet, and Andras pulls me even further back.

  “She’s fine. I will take care of her,” Andras calls as his arm presses me even further into the metal wall. Stepping away, Andras speaks rapidly in that unknown language.

  Over his words and the wet, sucking sounds coming from the giant wolf munching on Andras’s bloody shirt, another familiar voice calls into the room.

  “Raven!” Albert calls. “You and Stephen have had your minds compromised. Stephen has held all three of us-- his own brothers at gunpoint for the last twenty minutes.”

  “Because you guys are wrong, and you’re going to get all of us killed!” I call back.

  “We’re not wrong. Andras’ demons have already breached our walls. You are walking into a trap. Do not go with him. Andras is going to deliver you to Satan.”

  In my heart, I know it’s not true—but part of me wonders just for a moment as I look at Andras’ profile. Is he going to hand me over? Would he do that?

  Albert leans down, looking at me through the wolf’s legs. “Whatever you are trying to do, I will help you. Don’t trust Andras.”

  Andras peers over his shoulder so his face is only an inch from mine. “I don’t need to be a demon anymore to know he’s lying.”

  In this moment, I realize something: I trust Andras. I might be completely out of my head, but I trust Andras more than Albert by a long measure. Taking the very big chance of going
with a demon down to hell makes way more sense to me than going with Albert and believing he’ll truly help me.

  Reaching forward, I touch Andras’ back and whisper, “Let’s go.”

  The tentative look he gives me has just the littlest bit of surprise in it as if he half-expected me to have him summon a demon to help me and then leave him in the lurch.

  “Okay,” he says as he hurries over to the beast and makes a little step out of his hands. “Hop on, and watch out for the ceiling.”

  Hesitating just a moment, I step on his hands and climb up, once more, on the giant wolf. Just as I’d noticed last time, Fenrisúlfur’s massive back is so wide and fur so downy that he makes a very comfortable seat. The ceiling hovers only inches above my head, so close I feel my stray hairs brush it.

  Andras says something, making the wolf grumble, then the massive wolf crouches.

  With the downward movement, the ten men standing at the door come into view. Albert and Tobias stand central, while four men have Stephen pinned to the ground. Except for Tobias, who’s in a suit, they all wear tactical gear, helmets, and hold arm-sized rifles.

  Albert squeezes his eyes closed and grits his teeth. He raises his enormous gun to point at me and then opens his clear blue eyes. “I don’t want to do this, but we can’t let you be delivered to Satan, Raven. Please dismount.”

  Everything happens so quickly. Andras pushes me forward, covering me with his body. Tobias lifts a handgun, and a shot rips through the air just as Stephen breaks free and knocks over his brothers. Hot liquid sprays up my back.

  And then the wolf under Andras and me is leaping forward into the darkness.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Day Five

  No.

  The word screams through my head, over and over. I might be screaming aloud too, but the void we slip through is absolutely silent. When I reach back for Andras, my hands slide over his bare skin, slick with thick, viscous blood.