by Jenny McKane
That thought was harder than the others to approach too soon, so she let it drift away without attaching too much to it before she tried to concentrate on sleep.
“Lady Hunter?”
Plaxo’s voice, out of literal thin air, nearly made Sunny screech and cling to the roof like a cat.
“Plaxo,” she breathed, trying to get herself and her heart rate under control. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
He’d been gone since shortly after Norway, not able to stay away from the demon realm too long while the dream demons held down portals and tried to slow Camael the best they could.
“Plaxo is fine, Lady Hunter,” the dream demon said, coming into view. “Plaxo just wanted to let the Lady Hunter know that he is back and ready to help you start training.”
She frowned in the darkness at that.
“Training? More training?”
It seemed like all she did with her life. Training. Training. Training. Despite knowing how necessary it all was, she was damn tired of the word.
“Yes, Lady Hunter,” Plaxo said and Sunny could hear the laughter in his voice. “More training. The archdemon would like to talk about the end of the world tomorrow.”
The sentence sounded ludicrous in her head. So nonchalant. So casual. So far from who Sunny had seen herself becoming at 21-years-old back when she was a teenaged girl with boy band posters on her wall and best friend drama.
Archdemons and end-of-the-world discussions tossed about like they were common, everyday occurrences.
“How are the dream demons, Plaxo? Is everybody holding up okay?”
Azrael had hunted and persecuted the dream demons when they showed no interest in the games he was weaving and the intrigue he was building. Now with Camael ruling Hell, the dream demons went from defense to offense and were using their portal abilities to try to contain Camael’s spread. It wasn’t working out so spectacularly, if major cities like Seattle and Chicago were any indication, but Sunny figured it probably could be a whole lot worse.
“They are trying,” was all he said. The unspoken words rang louder than the ones he’d uttered. The dream demons were having a hard time of it and the weariness in Plaxo’s voice confirmed her worries.
“We’ll figure it out, Plaxo,” Sunny said into the darkness, finally starting to believe it in a small part of her heart. “Somehow, we’ll muddle through this and figure it all out.”
“Plaxo has no doubts, Lady Hunter,” the dream demon said.
Sunny knew the moment he was gone—the room felt different. Empty. Colder. He’d come to mean the world to Sunny and she couldn’t imagine the days when she thought he was a nuisance. An annoying pet that she had to try her hardest not to trip over. She laughed at her foolishness. Plaxo was a respected general in the dream demon army—a leader among his kind and a selfless creature who’d all but pushed Sunny and Gideon across the portal back to the human realm when they were escaping.
This was Sunny’s new normal, she thought, as she recalled the pottery’s delicate gold line running through the broken part. Not new. Not flawless.
But brutal and beautiful, two words Sunny decided that night were going to describe her and her life, if she had anything to say about it.
Chapter Six
“John of Patmos is a lie!”
Agares thundered the statement at a nonplussed looking Plaxo as the two demons were arguing about the authorship of the Book of Revelation.
“Every modern scholar in the world agrees with Plaxo,” the dream demon said as he perched on a bench while Agares paced around a statue of Quan Yin.
“Listen, dream demon,” Agares stopped his pacing and pointed a finger in Plaxo’s direction, “I like you. I think you’re a nifty demon to keep around, but don’t argue biblical semantics with me. I know my history, I know my apocalypses, and I know bullshit angel propaganda!”
That’s what Agares swore the Book of Revelation was, after all. He indirectly blamed Gabriel for writing such an over-the-top, outlandish end-of-days scare fest, though Gabriel had already sworn up and down last year that he had nothing to do with the last chapter of the Bible.
“Messenger, Herald,” he had said with a laugh when Sunny asked him. They were still in Canada at the time. “Not one place in the Bible or in history am I referred to as the Writer.”
“It wasn’t Gabriel,” Sunny said, certain of her words but in no rush to get herself in the middle of it.
“I say he had a hand in it,” Agares muttered, not nearly as thunderous but still not ready to let it go. “But even if he didn’t, the words are too stilted and high and mighty to be human. An angel is responsible for humanity’s views on Armageddon and it’s the fault of the angels. They use it as crowd control—like getting off their fancy asses and smiting two-thirds of the human population is doing some sort of noble good. Bullshit!”
Agares was worked up, that much was certain.
They’d pulled out a Bible and had started to unpack that version of the apocalypse at Asmodeus’ behest. That version of the end of days was, to say the least, complicated.
“Bowls? I thought the seals brought the locusts and the plagues?” Sunny was muttering and frustrated at how dense and nonsensical it all sounded.
“No, no, no,” Agares was frustrated again and Asmodeus had let out a long, suffering sigh. “Seals are first. Seals bring people. You opened the first seal and let out Asmodeus, though he’s not a historical player in the apocalypse. Trumpets are next. Trumpets bring a few fires, some poisoning of rivers and the first round of deaths. Then come the bowls that get dumped out over the earth.”
It sounded ridiculous to Sunny, who was doing her best to take it seriously.
“Who is going to dump a bowl big enough to hold the insects that are going to give everyone sores? And the waters into blood? That’s coming from a bowl, too. How?”
Asmodeus had stood up and was running his hands through his perfect hair, a sign he was getting more and more agitated.
“Sunshine,” he said, using her full name, something he only did when close to losing his tightly held temper. “I know you tend to make light of things when you are overly emotional or worried, but you need to take this all seriously.”
She frowned, drawing her lips in tight.
“I am taking this seriously,” she bit out. “I’m just having a hard time imagining this all being serious stuff. Nothing like this has ever happened in recent or far-reaching memories. I’m not sure that a new apocalypse is going to look like this.” She waved her hand over the Bible in front of her and continued. “I think it’s going to be new, to be honest.”
The words hung in the air a few moments as the two demons sitting opposite from her considered them.
It’d been a long morning, to say the least. It was all they could do to convince Sunny that it wasn’t demons that were historically expected to wipe two-thirds of the human population in the next apocalypse—that it was going to be angels.
“No way,” she’d said, incredulous as she read through the Revelation breakdown. “No freaking way.”
Asmodeus had been more than a little smug at the hard time Sunny had reconciling something she’d always believed with how it really was. Agares was offended on behalf of demons everywhere.
“What use would we have of killing the majority of you?” He’d huffed and puffed a good long time at the very notion.
Sunny couldn’t very well come up with any reason the demons would have for killing so many people.
And angels?
“Well, first off, they’re dealing with orders,” Asmodeus said, his face pursed like the words tasted bitter in his mouth. “Angels are nothing if not slaves to their hierarchies.”
“God would order our deaths?”
Sunny was often unsure of exactly what she believed when it came to the universe, but she knew she wasn’t created from dust or from luck—there was something out there that had the power to create and to demolish.
“Maybe,”
Asmodeus shrugged. “She has before.”
She stopped at the she, obviously intrigued but Asmodeus wouldn’t elaborate.
“But, in my experience, it’s usually a high-handed moralist angel that has enough sway to order the mass-killings. Usually a Seraph or a Throne, from what I’ve gathered over the years.”
“You’ve been out of the game for nearly 3,000 of them,” Sunny reminded the archdemon who ignored her.
When they discussed who Death would turn out to be, the two demons in front of her had their money on it being a Seraph. Sunny could only agree, actually, as it would take a very powerful angel to convince the Powers to go along with the scheme and order a hit out on Sunny.
“What about the mark of the beast and the son of Satan mentioned?”
Agares rubbed his chin a moment and Asmodeus cracked his knuckles.
“I think whoever Death is, they are pre-empting a strike and not necessarily following this playbook. I wouldn’t be surprised if what they’re attempting to create isn’t in any books or scrolls. I think we’re going off the reservation with this one, folks,” Asmodeus said. “In fact, I’m sure of it.”
He glanced over at Sunny, whose face had blanched.
“Don’t look so horrified, Rosie,” he said with a laugh. “Imagine how boring your life would be without your archangels, your archdemon and your generals. Consider yourself lucky, human!”
He was trying to cheer her up but Sunny couldn’t help but think about what life would be like without it all weighing on her shoulders. She’d probably have started looking for an art school about now and have been thinking about what sort of focus she would have started on. Her guess? Illustration. Sunny always wanted to illustrate books for kids.
She snickered thinking about the things she’d draw these days. They were the things of nightmares. Demons with vaporous shadow skin, no mouth, and hollow pits for eyes. She considered it a moment—maybe someday, when all was said and done, she’d turn this insane journey into a best-selling manga or anime series.
“What happens when we identify Death?” she asked, coming out of her daydream of Micron pens and sketchbooks. “What’s our plan?”
“Same as it’s always been, at this point,” Asmodeus replied. “We take care of the demons Camael is pushing on the human realm first. Then we deal with the angels.”
“And in the meantime, we get your fourth general,” Agares added. “We can’t start recruiting your legion until all four generals are awake.”
What Agares wasn’t saying was that time was of the essence in the fight against the angels. They were already fighting behind the curve when it came to the demons, what their little band of rebels didn’t want was to be behind the eight ball when it came to the angels, as well.
“Did that dream demon of yours ever come up with anything useful?”
Asmodeus was asking about Plaxo. He’d been coming and going a lot, never with good news. He’d actually just been there fighting with Agares and had disappeared.
“It’s chaos, from what he said,” Sunny replied. “There’s not a sense of control over there—no hierarchy and Camael is impossible to find. Plaxo said the dream demons have been hunting him for the past few months and they can never nail him down long enough.”
“And his army of science experiments?” He meant the angel/demon creatures Alder was creating.
“Growing, according to Plaxo,” Sunny answered.
“Ferals and lab accidents,” Asmodeus said aloud, thinking to himself. “Not the most noble of armies, but Camael isn’t necessarily trying to win the good fight, is he? Death is trying to make a statement—Camael is trying to create a distraction.”
It was what they already knew, but they were lacking anything else to go on. Right now, Sunny and her crew only had one thing to work with—finding a set of summoning stones to call Beleth. Once the generals were all assembled, they could begin building a legion.
“What role will the humans play in all of this?” she asked as she pushed herself off the stone bench. “Eventually they’re going to get tired of running, right?”
“The humans’ only job right now is to avoid being eaten,” Asmodeus said with an air of regality that rubbed Sunny the wrong way.
“No,” she argued. “That’s not their only job, archdemon. There’s plenty of intelligence and fire power among the humans. Eventually they’re going to contribute, too. But how will we coordinate?”
Asmodeus looked appalled at what Sunny seemed to be suggesting.
“I won’t fight alongside an armed militia of human rabble,” he declared with a flourish of his wrist.
Sunny rolled her eyes. “When your hands start getting dirty and your fancy clothes start getting ripped, you’re going to need humans and the kind of grinding fight they can muster when they need to—when their survival is on the line.”
“I doubt it,” was all Asmodeus said, but Sunny knew better. The humans would take defending their cities into their own hands soon enough and they’d show both angels and demons what they were capable of.
Chapter Seven
Having a dream demon wake you up was disorienting to say the least. Mostly, because you knew you’d just been dreaming and when they appear, you can never be certain if you’re still dreaming or not.
“Lady Hunter,” Plaxo whispered, his gritty voice pulling her from sleep. “Lady Hunter, wake up!”
There was something about his tone that caught Sunny’s half-asleep attention and forced her to open her eyes.
“What is it?” she croaked, her voice broken from sleep.
“Something is here, Lady Hunter,” the dream demon said. He had his little stone hand on hers and was pulling at her to get out of bed. “We need to see what it is.”
She rubbed her face.
“Did you let Asmodeus know?” she said as the seriousness of the situation began settling on her and she came fully awake.
“The archdemon is gone,” Plaxo replied.
He was stressing out. She could hear it in his voice.
“Okay, okay,” she muttered, half trying to calm the demon, half trying to buy herself some time while she gathered her wits about her. Sunny wasn’t exactly the best at hitting a dead sprint from sleep. She was groggy and confused. “Is Kiku around?”
She was hoping the nun wasn’t. Sunny worried about her elderly friend getting pulled into a fight that wasn’t hers and being caught in the crossfire.
“The ancient lady is back in her hut,” Plaxo replied, still pulling at Sunny. “She is sleeping on the opposite side of the island and Plaxo put wards around her hut just in case.”
“Good thinking,” Sunny said as she tied her shoe and gathered her blades. “Is it a demon?”
“Plaxo thinks it’s a demon,” he affirmed.
Great.
There were supposed to be decent wards around the entire island to keep them safe from things like the nox that would do them harm. How had something gotten past? And where in Hades was Asmodeus? An archdemon would certainly come in handy right about now.
Pulling her sweatshirt over her head, she indicated to Plaxo that she was ready and they crept through the darkness of the temple, avoiding the creakiest of stairs and the spot on the first floor that always groaned whenever somebody stepped on it.
Sunny held a flashlight in one hand and an obsidian blade in another as they made it to the front door of the temple and passed through it into the darkness outside.
“It’s not a nox is it?” Sunny whispered into the dark. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to go out hunting for one of those alone.”
Plaxo slowed ahead of her.
“It’s not a death eater, Lady Hunter,” Plaxo said. “And I sensed one entity, so Plaxo doesn’t believe it’s an attack. But we need to get it and ask it questions in case it’s a scout. Plaxo hates scouts.”
Sometimes Sunny forgot that her small dream demon friend was a renowned military officer in Hell. He was sometimes easy to overlook with his smal
l stature and the fact that he resembled a stone gargoyle in certain angles. But it was true. The dream demons had been on the run for a long time and had finally decided to stand and fight when Azrael was taken down.
Right. Get the thing and ask it questions. No big deal, right?
“Shouldn’t we wait for Asmodeus? Should we call Agares or another of the generals?”
“No, Lady Hunter,” Plaxo said quietly as he moved toward the edge of the garden. “You are in control of the demons around here, that much is certain. You need to act without handlers. You need to be strong.”
She snorted. She couldn’t help it.
“Knock it off, Plaxo,” she said, laughing him off. “You’re all screwed if I’m the best hope you have for a leader.”
“No,” Plaxo stopped short and whipped around, nearly colliding his head with Sunny’s stomach. “No more of that talk, Lady Hunter. The demons and angels working with you have placed their trust in you and you should not dishonor them now by denying who you are.”
She swallowed at that, unsure of what to even say to the very serious dream demon.
“Plaxo,” she began, but hesitated.
“Be who you’re supposed to be,” Plaxo said, his voice low but full of conviction. “And the rest of us will do the same.”
It was a message for her, she was certain of that. Plaxo had basically told her that unless she stepped up and acted like a leader, they had none. It was a discussion she’d been having with Asmodeus more and more lately and Sunny couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of the team had left so quickly so Sunny and Asmodeus could come to an understanding about how things would work moving forward.
Were they all waiting for her to step up and take charge?
She shook her head in the dark. Idiots. They had no idea what they were asking of her—how ill prepared she was for such a role. They were literally signing up for a suicide mission if it was all contingent on Sunny embracing this role they had in mind for her and being a savior of some sort.
