Hell's Belle

by Marie Castle

  “We’ve got them,” Serena shouted over the clamor of snarls, more explosions, and cursing, “Watch yourself, witch!”

  I could only hope that they’d be able to save the boys. Otherwise, I’d just taken three innocent lives. And if I didn’t stop that gate from opening, many, many more would soon die.

  I had one blast left. Too bad I couldn’t take my eyes off the really pissed vampire-corpse heading my way and find another vessel. Not that I wanted to shoot another boy, but that was the best option for stopping the gate. I looked at Nicodemus. He’d extracted himself from the fight and was closing in. He’d yet to form a magical sword like Titus’s. Maybe like the white wolf, he thought I was a waste of magic. I was leery of pulling my own blade and picking a fight I couldn’t win.

  And magic was no longer an option. As he approached, black wards began to run like tattoos down his chest and over his face and hands. Anything magical I sent at him would simply bounce back to me. Someone had taken the children’s rhyme I’m rubber and you’re glue to heart.

  I searched my pockets for a viable weapon even as a black and white striped tiger rushed to my aid. Nicodemus blasted the Were, and it crumpled at his feet. Nicodemus picked up the unconscious tiger, lifting it high, ready to break its back on an extended knee. The tiger, bulkier than the vamped-out Nicodemus, had to weigh at least a good half-ton, but Nicodemus lifted it like it was nothing. The tiger would heal from that blow, but it would hurt like hell, assuming it didn’t get killed while paralyzed.

  I lifted my weapon. The charge wasn’t doing me any good in my gun. Despite Nicodemus’s earlier assertions, I fired, hitting him directly between the eyes. He flinched but didn’t stop. Still, it got his attention.

  “Yoo-hoo, remember me?” Batting my lashes, I waved my fingers. “I believe the next dance is mine, big boy.”

  It wasn’t very creative, but it worked. Nicodemus blinked twice before contorting his mouth into another grotesque smile.

  Once again congenial, he said, “Indeed, dear Cate.” He tossed the tiger off the stage and took another deliberate step forward. The tiger hit the hard black tar with a bone-crunching thud, and I winced. Backing away, I threw a collection of razor-sharp discs and spelled-charms pulled from my belt. Most, Nicodemus batted away, the spells fizzing out before even touching him, but one disc sank into his lower belly.

  He didn’t so much as flinch. “You wound me, Cate. Now’s no time to suddenly turn shy.”

  “Don’t take it personally, but I’m rather particular.” I took another step back, lifting my boot heels so they didn’t catch on the uneven boards. As Nicodemus moved forward, his disguise began to flicker. Maybe Artus had lied, and they didn’t rely completely upon their own power to fuel their illusions but used that housed in the boys. That would explain his trouble. With a major chunk gone from the boys I’d killed, the sorcerers didn’t have the power to hide. Perhaps it was stupid of me, but I really wanted to gloat over that.

  “Why try so hard, Nicky-boy, to keep Roskov’s pretty face? Are you afraid Daddy won’t like your real one? I can understand that. It’s one even a mother couldn’t love. Never had a father myself, but I understand they’re pickier about those sorts of things, wanting their sons to be a chip off the old demonic block and all.”

  Almost in sync with my taunt, Nicodemus’s illusion fell completely, and with its loss, something in him broke free. Nicodemus had been cautious in his final approach, taking his time, trying to intimidate. But with an unearthly howl, he rushed me.

  I dove to the side, nearly striking the screen. But I wasn’t quick enough. The smell hit me right before his rotting, pustule-covered flesh did.

  I smacked the wooden planking, the two discs I’d been about to throw flying from my hands, my scabbard painfully digging into my back. I lay there, dazed, until cold hands grasped the leather harness running over and under my armpits, lifting me.

  “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, witch.” Nicodemus slammed me back down.

  There was a loud crack. It took a moment for the pain in my head to register. Warm blood slid down my neck. I spit blood from a cut inside my mouth before saying, “I get that a lot. Personally, I’ve never considered myself a high-maintenance type of woman.” All I got for my lip was a fat one as he slapped my face with enough force to make my ears pop.

  “If I weren’t so busy trying to hold that gate, I’d savor your death.” Nicodemus pulled me toward his horrifying body.

  This time, the blood pouring out of my mouth was mixed with bile. Time slowed as I watched his fangs descend toward my neck. I reached downward, fingertips scraping against the rough wood, trying to find something…anything. There was nothing. I wanted to close my eyes. It’s hard to watch your own death, but I couldn’t give up. I opened my mind fully, searching for Jacq, sending her a desperate mental cry. No words. Only my utter fear.

  Just as his teeth pricked my skin, a streaking silver figure flashed in. Jacq! Unleashing a war cry, she ran at us, glowing so brightly that it was hard to look at her. She smashed into Nicodemus, and they went down in a tumble of black and silver limbs. I scooted away, realizing suddenly that I was mere feet from the gate, which was about to open and pour a horde of demons into our laps.

  Stop the ritual. I heard Jacq clearly, courtesy of my downed shields. I didn’t want to leave her, but she was right. If that gate opened, we were all dead. I looked for help, but the entire stage had been cleared of all but us three. The others were in the parking lot surrounded by a contingent of immortals, vampires and Weres. A nude Luke had half-shifted back and was cradling an unconscious Becca in his wolf-man arms. Serena, JJ and another vampire were trying to bring back the boys I’d shocked. Blood flowed down both vampires’ arms. Gold magic flowed liberally from JJ’s cuffs, the strain evident on her face.

  Nearby, Mynx and Fera were fighting to hold Artus within a shimmering, blue-green energy barrier. A striped tiger alternated between nuzzling its downed sibling and Brittan, who were both on the ground. The spirited Brit looked to be out cold, her body convulsing randomly.

  Isabella and the white wolf were at the center of the protected area. With my shields open, I recognized Kyle’s presence. I wasn’t surprised that Kyle had come for his mate, but I was surprised that he’d made it out of Luke’s safe house. Knowing Luke, future wolves would not be so lucky.

  The only raptors still obeying orders were farther out in the parking lot, surrounding the two other boys, the ones now powering the gate. Grey, in tiger-man form, was leading his Weres against them, but they didn’t know the true importance of those two boys. Any action Grey could take would be too late to assist me.

  I was on my own. I backed toward the gate. I was never one for obeying orders, so now was probably a bad time to start. Nevertheless, Nicodemus had told me to open a gate. And that’s just what I’d do.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Panda Imodium: A Chinese Bear shit-fest stopper; also what happens when you put a bunch of Southern belles in the same room with alcohol and they realize that half of them are dating, have slept with, or currently married to the same man.”

  —Brittan Wessan

  For all my big talk, I’d never actually opened a gate. My guardian powers had never been strong enough. I backed toward the darkmirror, keeping an eye on a silver-skinned Jacq. She and Nicodemus had swords now, and the clash of black and silver magical blades was throwing off enough sparks to finish burning down the theater. My body bumped against the gate. My sore head hit the screen, and I groaned.

  Then I felt it. The blood on my head had touched the stone. This was a guardian’s heritage: the ability to connect with the mirror through a simple smear of blood. It was also what made us targets for sorcerers hell-bent on destruction. Sorcerers, kind of like the one currently trying to remove my sweetie’s head from her shoulders. I closed my eyes, focusing on the stone’s magic. Best to deal with one world-stopping, pain-in-the-ass problem at a time.

  My brow creased.
Something was wrong. Nicodemus’s dark power should have flowed in and been consumed as it fueled the connection to whatever destination he had in mind. But something was drawing the power away, feeding on it. The dark-magic wasn’t all flowing in. And what did wasn’t all staying. My eyes popped open. Brittan. Oh, my goddess bless.

  I should have seen this coming. The magic that I’d forced from the three boys by killing them wasn’t natural and wouldn’t easily merge with the natural world, and the two remaining boys had been chock-full, incapable of absorbing more. But there was Brittan. The only other living avenue. Tainted by the special infusion of dark-magic-laden blood, she was already primed and ready. And so, like water flowing downstream, the magic had chosen the easiest, most straightforward course.

  I could feel it now, flowing into Brittan until she was full to bursting…and then some. By all rights, she should be dead. She was holding more than any of the others, and magic was still flowing in and out of her like the tide. But strangely enough, it wasn’t all dark.

  Through the gate’s connection, I followed the magic back to Brit, careful not to touch the dark power. I could see what had happened. When Nicodemus had tapped the gate, it had tapped Brittan. The shared blood had formed a giant superconductor for Nicodemus’s magic, but like all currents, the magic flowed how it chose. The power was flowing from Nicodemus into the gate, but the darkmirror was purifying a portion, pushing that clean power back into my blonde friend. The good and bad powers within her were battling it out. Brit was balanced upon the precipice of a deadly scale, and I wasn’t sure how it would all fall.

  My hands slapped the cold stone, letting it support my weakening knees. The deaths? The amassing of power? They’d been trying to do more than open a gate. I’d heard of this, but it was supposed to be impossible—a story told by old witches with nothing better to do. Still, maybe I should have expected it. This seemed to be a week for the impossible.

  This complicated things. I’d planned to quickly open the gate, extinguishing the magic it had absorbed, then shut it down. That was no longer an option. I couldn’t close the gate without killing Brit. Whatever the darkmirror was doing, it was helping her survive the black-magic saturating her body. What we needed was a new destination.

  I closed my eyes, reaching out to Serena. It had been so long since I’d needed this skill. I took a breath and focused. I need something. I tried to push my words only to the vampire, not wanting to distract Jacq at the wrong moment.

  I’m a bit busy here, Cate. Serena strained to hold the connection as she poured her unique magic into the humans I’d shot. I knew from her thoughts that the boys hadn’t absorbed enough vamp blood to change, taking only enough to heal their vital organs. Two of them were alive, their hearts shocked back into beating with JJ’s help, but the group was still working on the third, the one who’d given blood to Brittan. Serena thought he was lost. This wasn’t the time for sadness or regret. Brushing those distracting emotions away, I sent her an image of what I needed along with encouragement and thanks. It wasn’t an easy request, but soon the information was tucked away in my head. Just before I dropped our connection, she grunted, What are you hiding, little witch?

  The better question, vampire, is why do you care? I slammed my shields back down. Serena’s laugh echoed in my head but she didn’t try to get in. For now we all had better things to do than play peek-a-boo in each other’s minds.

  I focused on the stone, opening my mind and magic fully to our connection. It was similar to rising in the mind’s eye, but whereas that plane was full of life and beauty and endless shades of every color, this place was bleak. We were on the cusp of the void between worlds. Here there was only the cold, black emptiness of oblivion.

  Except, my fire brought life. It was a thousand shades of shimmering red that collided with Nicodemus’s inky blackness. Nearly as dark as the void, his corruption flowed like an endless ocean in the boundlessness of space, threatening to consume my fire, a lone candle set adrift in the midst of his darkness.

  My direct connection to the gate provided me a small advantage. And there was the fact that Nicodemus was fighting on both the physical and magical planes. But let’s not bullshit around. No amount of training could have prepared me or any other guardian for going up against this much power, especially not alone, with all my erstwhile backup occupied trying to keep the general population from being overrun by a horde of hungry raptors. So I was on my own. If I’d just been witch or guardian, we’d be lost. But I was, apparently, something more.

  I reached down, releasing the locks I’d used to bind my other, darker half—the half that had grown much stronger in the past few weeks. For a moment, I thought I might understand the vampires’ unquenchable thirst for blood. My dark side was hungry for it, but not to drink. No, it wanted to spill the precious life-giving fluid. It thrilled for the hunt. The conquest. But there was something it longed for even more. And I understood this need. It drove my own actions, reminding me that, even dark and blood-thirsty, this demon-half was still me. More than anything else, it wanted its freedom, and I shamelessly offered that possibility like a carrot on a stick.

  You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. And we’ll both try not to sink our claws too deep. I nearly laughed aloud—I was talking to myself. But the laughter stuck midway when I felt an answering stir from deep within.

  Agreed.

  Power surged, like gasoline poured on the flames of my fire. I channeled the magic, pushing it into the gate, never letting a drop spread past my body or the black stone, lest someone knowledgeable, like Fera’s operatives, see. The power turned my candle into a small bonfire, then a larger one, until it spread like forest fire, bringing blazing rivers of light to the darkness. Now we’re cooking with gas. That thought made me snort. My only excuse: the strain on my body was immense. The delirium was obviously setting in.

  I focused on the portion of the gate that Nicodemus had sunk his twisted teeth into, carefully avoiding the semi-sentient tendrils reaching out of the void to Brittan. I didn’t dare get too close. But while that magic, too, was dark like Nicodemus’s, its blackness was natural, rippling like water reflecting the night sky. It was tempting to lean close in hopes of catching a glimpse of some strange and wonderful world that might reside just below the surface, but I resisted. A part of me knew that like the grim mermaids of old that led sailors to their deaths, there would be no return for any who ventured into those waters.

  Perhaps it was a moment. Perhaps hours. Our magic fought, forming black and red eddies of pure power. Like giant waterspouts, they pounded each other. For the longest time, it was an even match. Sweat beaded on my head. My limbs weakened, but I stood my ground, never losing my connection with the gate. Dimly, I could hear the clang, hiss and pop as Nicodemus’s and Jacq’s blades smashed against each other. Then I heard Nicodemus cackle and felt a flash of pain.

  My connection slipped, and I scrambled to regain it. He’d winged her! Oh, he was going to pay for that. I needed Jacq healthy and whole. The woman had asked me out on a damn date, and there was no way in hell that she was getting out of it. She’d seen me with a snotty nose and red puffy eyes and still wanted to date me. She was a keeper.

  My sense of urgency tripled. I pushed more fire into the gate, digging for everything I had left, but it wasn’t enough. The more I sent against him, the more Nicodemus’s darkness spread. My spirits started to flag. Then I remembered—I wasn’t alone. I closed my eyes tighter. The others would already be by my side if they could, sharing what magic they had left to give. Still, I sent the call.

  More.

  Even as it winged away, I realized my mistake. I was too connected to the gate, my mind too deep into the battle. Like a ship on the edge of a black hole, my mental cry floundered, skimming around the void’s edge before succumbing to the inevitable and falling in.

  I stood between two paths. If I pulled back close enough to the physical plane to call for help, Nicodemus would surge forward. The
gate was seconds from opening. Could I hold him those few precious moments if my magic and will weren’t completely in the fight? I thought not. But if I stayed here, we would remain locked in this endless stalemate until one of us tired or was killed.

  Nicky-boy was drawing magic from others, fueling his fight on both fronts. Jacq and I didn’t have the same resources. Her increasing exhaustion paralleled my own. Even my demon-half was quiet now. The beast, asleep in its cage, had shared all it could, or would, for the time being.

  Like a general surveying the troops, my mind stood behind the forces of fire. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I almost saw little flaming men racing against those of darkness, heralded on by dragons, mouths spraying red plumes of magic. Whether they were real or only another sign of my flagging energy really wasn’t relevant. Any way you cut it, this was a war. And in war, there were casualties. There was only one source of power left. Although I knew no witch that had done this, I now understood why a witch might sacrifice a piece of her soul—and ultimately her entire life—for something. Would I…could I…do the same?

  I thought of everyone I loved. My Nana. Aunt Helena. Mynx. Jacq. Too great a liability, they would be the first to die under the demons’ hands. Without making a conscious decision, I’d found my answer. I reached inside, this time, for a different lock, the one that kept my soul bound inside its earthly cordon.

  Something jolted me from behind, causing my magical fingers to slip. Another force flowed into me, into my fire. The most unlikely of allies, the void’s shimmering black power flowed around me, pushing with me. I didn’t understand why this being, whatever it might be that resided between worlds, was helping. But that was exactly what it was doing. The black ripples of power sank into my fire, but instead of extinguishing it, they turned to molten rivers of lava. Like melted stone, they flowed, racing past my own power, circling Nicodemus’s darkness.