Once You Go Demon (Pure Souls)

by Killian McRae

  Undeterred, Jerry threw himself into the thick of it, driven. “Riona!” His voice fell out before him and flattened, as though he was shouting into a wall.

  Dee voice rang out behind him. “Caligo recedere!” At least one of them had their shit together enough to do something rational. As the fog obeyed and thinned, the figure of a man, broad-shouldered and smug as all get out, arms folded over his chest, solidified before their eyes.

  “Michael!” Jerry spat the name out like a curse. “Where is she, you fallen heathen scum?”

  Wagging his finger, Michael clicked his tongue. “Now, now, pot. You don’t want to go upsetting the kettle, do you? It might boil over.”

  Apparently Ramiel still held out the hope that this was all a big misunderstanding. “Sire, what is the meaning of this? Where is Riona?”

  A low rumble filled the space, the snickering passing them before echoing back from all directions. “She’s … occupied.”

  As he said it, his arm went out, and the fog cleared further. Just a little beyond where they stood, a clearing emerged. In its center, a four-poster bed sat, its intricate carvings and embellishments fit for a king. Jerry’s eyes focused in on the pair of bodies strewn atop it. The couple wasn’t yet engaged, but all indications of their body language said it was only a matter of moments.

  “Marc!” Dee called out, though Jerry wasn’t sure if it was as a rebuke or a realization.

  “Let’s give my daughter and her lover some privacy, shall we? After all, it would be a shame to waste a perfectly good morgana box.” Gloating through a grin, Michael flicked his fingers, fogging over the portal again. “Face it, boys, now that she’s been reunited with her demon, it’s only a matter of time before she realizes where her place is. With me, her father, and with Marc in Hell.”

  “Sire? This doesn’t make any sense.” Ramiel’s hands threaded through his hair. He squeezed, as though trying to keep the truth in. Or perhaps, keep it out. “You aren’t one of the fallen. We would know. The Heavenly would have felt it if you fell.”

  “He hasn’t fallen. Yet.” Jerry turned to the other two. “But that’s his intention. He’s committed his sin, he’s exerted his own will over that of Big Boss. He’s in purgatory, between planes. Molly Dade saw to that, didn’t she?”

  Michael’s pride beamed. Uncrossing his arms, his hands clapped in mocking approval. “Gaius, nothing escapes you. Yes, the moment I saw Molly, I knew she’d be a perfect vessel for my seed. She dabbled in sin, so full of anger and bitterness. Oh, she hid it well, but not from me. And of course, a witch would ensure our progeny could wield magic. Molly’s self-absolution was something I never could have predicted, or that she would feel enough love for our child to turn my own angelic blade on me.”

  “Way to go, Molly Dade,” Dee uttered.

  “Indeed.” Michael concurred. “My own kitten turned and scratched me. It’s not often a mortal gets the better of me, and she put me in a difficult position. I was falling, and the moment I set foot in Heaven or Hell, the other angels would know it. I wouldn’t have put it past Gabriel or Larius to induce a miscarriage if they knew the plot I had conceived. Siddhartha could be counted on for having no care what was going on in the world of men. I’ve dwelt in Nirvana, waiting for her. But I needed someone to keep an eye on her, make sure she stayed mortal and pure until I could return.”

  “Azazel,” Jerry gasped in realization. “That’s why he told Riona she was off limits. It wasn’t Lucifer’s edict, it was yours.”

  “Jerry, you tempt me.” Michael examined him at length, appraising him. “Maybe it’s worth it to try to tempt you to our side again. After all, you fell easily enough the first time. If only there was even more forbidden knowledge I could seduce you to learn. Then again, now that I have your precious girlfriend ...”

  “She’s your daughter, and my wife,” Jerry growled. “And we’ll both be laughing our asses off when we come for you.”

  Ramiel piped up. “But, Sire … I don’t get it. Why?”

  “Because this existence is pointless, you simpleton! How many Pure Souls will you watch die in the line of duty, trying to save mankind from its own self-destruction? The Grigori are all too able to corrupt men’s souls, because men are made to be corrupted. We both know it’s only a matter of time before Big Boss realizes this project’s folly and undertakes another rapture, just like he did with the nephilim. We couldn’t save them, and the Pure Souls can’t save men. I’m only hastening the inevitable, and the best way for me to make the world burn is to invoke the power of fire.”

  Dee’s voice gurgled. “You’re going to overthrow Hell.”

  “Oh, my dear Dionysius, I’m going for more than just a hostile takeover. I’m leveling the field by merging the players. Heaven, Hell, and humanity: all one big, happy family. Riona is the key. I can’t return to Heaven, the rules won’t allow a fallen to bridge. But my half-human, half-angel daughter is uniquely gifted to be able to walk in all three planes. I’ll need her body, her magic, to pull them all together. Oh, I assure you, no little amount of thought has gone into this.”

  “It won’t work!” Ramiel rounded Dee and Jerry, standing between him and the traitor. “You forgot one critical thing: Riona is human. Half-angel or not, she still has free will. You can’t force her to do anything, and she will never do anything that allows Hell to unleash on Earth.”

  “Enough!” Jerry screeched as the magic begging to leap forward from him tickled the tips of his fingers. “I’m ripping this fucker down. Asseema-shahaf atterreru!”

  He poured his soul into the effort. White hot and feral, the power leapt from him, consumed his being, filtered his essence into action and sped past Michael, barreling into the barrier between him and his beloved. The magic planed out over the confines which held her, probably without her even knowing, and fizzled to the edges. The box suffered nothing. All he had done was thrown the magical equivalent of a spit ball at a blackboard.

  Jerry’s face blanched as he doubled over. Everything he had, he had given to the spell. The wasted effort left him destitute. Hellfire was beyond his reach now, and his remaining magic paled in comparison. Even with Dee’s presence to bolster his standing, it was not enough.

  “An A for effort,” Michael mocked. “Why not just sit back and wait, Jerry. I’m sure he’s almost done with her.” At that precise moment, a scream from behind them, an accusatory screech of Marc! Marc! met their ears. “Or maybe he’s done with her already, though who’s to say if she isn’t just begging for more.”

  Ramiel pulled Jerry from the ground and put him in Dee’s custodianship. “Think your morgana box can stand against my power, Michael? Take it down now, or I’ll bust it away.”

  “Ramiel, such bold words for one not permitted by law to have an opinion.” Michael paced forward with all the coolness of a cucumber. “You’re skating on thin ice, archangelus. I’ve already taken my side on this, but if you get involved, you know you risk the fall?”

  Ramiel’s jaw clenched. “I will not treasure my station over the corruption of the innocent. If it comes down to a choice between my wings and her life, I choose life. Fuck the accords!”

  And with that, the archangel’s body burst into a radiant array. Jerry shielded his eyes from the pulse of light. When he was able to open them again, Ramiel, though still human to his eyes, was simultaneously so much more. Wings, bright as the sun and burning just as hot, stretched out from his being. His arms pushed forward, moving more than just muscle, moving air. Jerry could see reality bend before him as the energy the angel wielded hit its target. As though made of glass, the morgana box shattered, its confines falling away to dust. Riona’s eyes went wide; no doubt she suddenly became aware that her betrayal had had an audience, though not quite understanding why Jerry, Dee, Michael, and Ramiel stood at clear odds, and perhaps never before having seen an archangel enveloped in full glory.

  Like rams vying for a mate, the angels locked arms. Equals in arms, neither could gain ground or ad
vantage. Their fight led them to wander, leaving the path between the Pure Souls and the newly arisen demon unobstructed.

  Riona scrambled off the bed and across the clearing, but Marc was on her tail. She hadn’t made it three steps when he caught her long, flowing red hair in his grasp and yanked her back.

  “Now, now, sweet. What about our pillow talk?”

  Jerry had never seen Dee move so quickly. The demigod grabbed the demon by the wrist and forced his hand open, though clearly Marc wasn’t putting up much of a fight on that end.

  “Go to Jerry!” Dee bellowed as Riona’s exposed body crumpled to the floor. “I’ll take care of this bastard.”

  Riona didn’t wait. Her instincts had ousted her heart as chairman of the decision-making board the moment she’d seen the hatred in Marc’s eyes. The moment she’d understood that her lover was not in fact her new spouse.

  “What a friend you turned out to be!” she heard Marc bellow as Dee’s fist connected with his jaw.

  She threw herself at Jerry. Caged in his arms, they scuttled to the ground before turning to watch the tide turn. Dee, though a mountain of muscle against which few humans would stand an ice cube’s chance in hell, rumpled as Marc’s hellfire-powered force leveled him.

  “I thought you were my friend, Dee!” Marc’s voice, both accusatory and overwrought, evidenced his pain. “Yet you stand in witness of this? You give your blessing to my Riona whoring herself out to a demon?”

  Dee struggled to his feet. A cracked lip dripped blood. Already, one of his eyes had begun swelling shut. “Yeah, you’re so much a better catch right now. Deceiving her into thinking you’re Jerry so you could screw her. Real upfront and honor-worthy there.”

  “Better than blatantly giving herself to that hellspawn!” In a rambunctious swing, Marc backhanded Dee across the jaw, sending the demigod on a make out session with the ground. Dee landed in a heap, motionless.

  Marc’s eyes crossed the clearing and the fifteen feet or so between them. His burning gaze met her own, and for a moment his features softened. He looked ever so much the humble priest she had loved. “Come with me and we can be together. You and me, we can have eternity.”

  Though her brain knew the truth, her heart and her body swooned. Is this not what she had planned? Isn’t this what she wanted?

  As though Jerry could sense her conflict, his hold on her tightened. He leaned down, stroking her cheek. “Don’t listen to him. It’s not possible. A demon can’t love.”

  The corner of Marc’s mouth rose. He sneered at them. “If a demon can’t love, then what do you call what you feel for her, Jerry?”

  Jerry arched, giving him leverage. “I’m not like you. I was resurrected.”

  A laugh rumbled through his chest. “Like hell. Once you go demon, you’re stained. Don’t believe he’s any different, Riona. He’s a deceiver. To you, and to himself. It’s only a matter of time before his nature reveals itself. How many times will you forgive him? For lying? For obscuring the truth? For taking advantage of your sorrow for his own gain?”

  Her mind retraced the last few weeks. Jerry, knowing what she was, but saying nothing. Him, in her hours of grief, never failing to take advantage of a moment to say just wrong thing. His manipulation of her heart and her body, letting her fall into the trap of desiring him, then turning her out when finally she’d sought him out.

  Her conflict must have broadcast in her features. When she opened her eyes again, a smug grin plastered on Marc’s face.

  “You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” Marc asked, a twinge of taunt in his timber. “Already been mistreating you, hasn’t he? Answer me honestly, Riona, when he’s kissed you—oh, I know he’s kissed you—did you close your eyes and wish it was me? Did you pretend my soul was calling to yours, and that we were together? How many ways to fall did you imagine, just to be with me again?”

  At that last statement, her breath halted, her eyes went wide. How did he know?

  Marc’s outstretched hand tempted her even still. “Come with me, Riona. You don’t need to plot, I already found the way. You’re a married woman now. Invite me to your bed, and your adultery with a demon can tip the scales in Hell’s favor. Not to mention, you’ll finally be mine.”

  Jerry leapt to his feet. “Lisumkartun!”

  His energy amassed on the tips of his fingers before hurling itself forward. Riona recognized the defensive spell, and wasn’t surprised when Marc’s body went flying backwards, landing with a thud on the other side of the bed.

  “Riona, don’t listen to him. Remember what I said: as a demon, Lucifer controls you. You won’t have a choice. You’ll be Hell’s whore.” Jerry’s voice was weak, his grip on her lessening. “Get out of here, quick.”

  Riona bit her lip in frustration, images of her body pressed against Marc’s in the heat of passion dissipating. “But Dee …”

  “Ramiel will protect him,” Jerry promised. “Don’t listen to Marc. He may corrupt you, but they won’t let you die. Once you’re damned and in Hell, you can’t breach Heaven.”

  Her fists clenched with determination. “Then I’ll vanquish him,” she spat as she took a few steps in the direction where Marc’s body had landed. “It’s my duty.”

  “No, you can’t!” Jerry warned. Her eyes filled with misunderstanding. “There’s no time to explain it now. Just get out of here.”

  “But how?” she laughed out. “I can’t even see the door. Are we even still in the mortal realm? Are we in the Grotto? Hell? New Jersey?”

  He pulled her down so he could whisper in her ear. “You’re part-angel. You can shift.” He interlaced their fingers. “Keritza azah neferterium. Say it! Say it now!”

  “Riona …” Marc’s voice caught her attention. Turning her head over her shoulder, she saw his form rising from the shadowy protection of the bed. “It’s your destiny. One way or another, you’re ending up in Hell. You’re ending up with me.”

  Riona turned one more quick glance to Dee, praying that Jerry was right and that Ramiel would protect her other pillar, before throwing her arms around Jerry. “Keritza azah neferterium!”

  Chapter 36

  Birdsong and the melodious giggle of a stream drew her from her nightmares. Riona’s body felt as though it had been ripped into pieces and stitched back together overnight. She sat up against the protest her equilibrium gave, and looked about. A few feet from her makeshift bed on the ground, a smoldering pile of embers atop a mountain of ash glowed. She looked to her arms and legs to find herself clothed, if the burlap sack and knitted bottoms she wore could be called clothes. Her mind worked to piece together her current circumstances versus her memory. Her hands ran through her hair, and as her fingers parted the locks, her right hand caught and tangled.

  “What the …?” Finally freeing her hand, she saw red strands on her finger looped around something crystalline and gold. A ring, she realized, and more precisely, a wedding ring. “Holy Drew Barrymore!”

  “Holy Drew Barrymore? Well, that’s one I haven’t heard before.”

  Her head and body jerked. She took a defensive posture against whomever was coming through the nearby brush. The hair took her a moment, but as soon as she saw the face underneath it, her tension ebbed.

  “Where am I?” That seemed the most obvious question to ask, though about a million more were vying to get to the front of the line to follow up.

  Persephone grimaced. “I won’t say you’re somewhere safe, that would be a lie. I’m not sure how you got here, but …” She dropped her armful of branches on to the fire and pointed off into the distance where a mountain range jutted into the sky. “That’s Olympus there. And if I don’t get my ass back up there soon, there’s going to be Hell to pay for both of us.”

  Confusion crept in and made itself at home. Images flashed behind Riona’s eyelids as she winced and tried to recall the series of events that led her here.

  “What happened, Riona? Is Dee okay?”

  Riona calmed her internal
screaming and reached out her consciousness. She felt her soul connect with the heavenlight that enabled her power. While she couldn’t use it as a means to communicate with her pillars, it at least provided her with a means to learn their fate. The light was balanced, content.

  “They’re … alive,” she ventured. “I can’t tell you more than that, but both Dee and Jerry are alive.”

  Persephone’s features glowed. “Thank the gods. And Ramiel?”

  Perplexed as to why Persephone would ask after someone she so clearly loathed, Riona felt her features screw up. “I have no way of knowing, but it’s damn near impossible to kill an archangel.”

  “Yeah, but not totally impossible,” Persephone muttered. She fished one of the newly-deposited twigs from the fire and pushed around the pile, encouraging the flame to grow. “As soon as you’re able to move, let me know. We have to get back up before dusk, and unless you got a minivan hidden somewhere nearby, we really have to hike it.”

  “I’m going to Olympus?” Riona asked. Persephone bobbed her head. “No, I can’t. I have to get back. I have to … Oh, my God, Jerry. What Jerry must be thinking after he saw me with Marc.”

  “Marc?” Persephone bolted to her feet. “Marcello Angelleti? But he’s not supposed to be able to rise until tonight.”

  “He came back early,” Riona explained. “Our wedding night, and I end up making out with a demon.” And the worst part was, even after she’d learned it was Marc, part of her still wanted him.

  Her scrambled cries confused the goddess the more. “Wait a minute. I thought that whole wedding thing was a fake. You mean you actually married Gaius Gallicus?”