The Third Kiss

by Kat Colmer

  Clay. The demon’s name was way too docile for a guy with his level of anger management problems.

  One designer-dress-shoe-encased footstep at a time, Elymas strode toward us. “As entertaining as this has been, it is time we moved on. We have a Loose Thread to…cut off.” He smiled at his stupid joke, revealing gleaming, movie star teeth. I swallowed. The sick bastard is looking forward to this.

  At Elymas’s words, Jonas grabbed my hand and swept me behind him with his arm. For each step Elymas advanced, we backed one up. Under normal circumstances Jonas’s overprotectiveness would have pissed me off. These, however, weren’t normal circumstances. And the way Elymas pinned me with his freakish eyes, I was glad someone stood between the demon and me.

  “You have to get past me first.” Jonas’s voice was even, confident. Only the vise-like grip he had on my hand gave away his fear.

  Elymas took to adjusting his cuff again, this time on the other arm. Clearly, intimidation was an art form for the bastard. “Such a cliché, Mr. Leander. And here I thought you were a man of original words.” He stopped just as the back of my legs collided with the hideous chair. “But I digress.” And with a flick of Elymas’s wrist, Jonas was wrenched to the side, his hold on my hand broken, the force of the act so violent he was thrown to the ground where he slid along the marble.

  “No!” Jonas scrambled to regain his footing and tried to charge back. It was no use. With one outstretched hand Elymas held him at bay, leaving me standing alone and looking straight into his perfect, hateful face.

  “You touch her and I swear I’ll kill you.” There was frantic but useless movement to my right as Jonas pushed and shoved unsuccessfully against Elymas’s invisible wall.

  His words had little effect on the demon. In fact, Elymas appeared amused. At least that was what I took the faint twitching at the corners of his cruel mouth to mean. Baptiste and Clay watched from a distance, neither game enough to make a move without their master’s approval.

  Elymas turned his head slightly so he could look at Jonas. “I’d expect no less from you. You’re exactly like your father, ruled and weakened by your pathetic human emotions.”

  Rage bled across Jonas’s contorted features. “I’m nothing like my father!” Again, he thrashed against his unseen bonds.

  Elymas stroked his free hand down the side of my face. Slowly, because the demon enjoyed stretching out each terror-filled moment. Sharp fingernails scraped along my cheek, just painful enough to make me aware what he was capable of. Bile gathered at the back of my throat, but I refused to flinch.

  Elymas held my eyes with his disturbing pinprick violet ones. “Would you die for her?”

  The question was a sharp kick to my core. How was Jonas meant to answer that? Not many would lay their life down for someone else. A parent for their child, maybe. But a friend for a friend? Would I die for Jonas? I had no answer. I didn’t know! I didn’t know!

  I tried to break away from Elymas’s knowing gaze, but my head refused to move. Was it the demon’s doing or my own?

  Jonas stood still. The silence stretched. I wasn’t certain which of his two possible answers would undo me more.

  When it came, there was unwavering certainty in his reply.

  “Yes.”

  Suddenly the air in the room was too cold, too thin. It hurt to breathe. Guilt stung the backs of my eyes. They watered, blurring Elymas’s perfect face.

  Satisfied, Elymas turned to smile at Jonas. “Then you’re exactly like your father.”

  Something brittle inside me snapped. I filled my lungs with the icy air, pushed farther back, until the edge of the hideous chair cut the backs of my thighs.

  The chair Jonas and I had tried to drag across to the fireplace.

  So we could reach…

  The sword.

  I leaped, landed. Wrestled the Sword of Absolom from above the fireplace. I swung the blade. It slashed Elymas across the chest. The demon’s surprised roar of outrage sliced across my eardrums, a promise of violence in the booming sound. Before I could readjust my grip on the khopesh, he flung me across the library, smashing me against a bookshelf, trying to dislodge my hold on the ancient blade.

  I wouldn’t let go.

  Even when the room tilted and doubled, when something warm and faintly metallic trickled down my temple as I slid to the floor.

  I’m. Not. Letting. Go.

  Because, in this case, the sword was mightier than the word.

  And my only salvation.

  Fighting broke out to the left of me. Now free of Elymas’s hold, Jonas lost no time in taking on Baptiste and Clay. I caught a flash of a fist smashing into Baptiste’s face, a knee ramming Clay’s gut.

  Across the room, the wound I’d inflicted on Elymas leached dark blood between his fingers, quickly soaking the pristine white shirt beneath his suit jacket. Chest heaving, he leaned heavily on the mantle of the fireplace, an indication the cut was deep and painful.

  Good.

  As he stared at me, disbelief and hatred warred for front row seats on his face. For a split second I stupidly thought I’d rendered him powerless.

  Then his other hand lifted, and the sword tugged sharply in my hand.

  Don’t let go.

  Blood thundered in my ears, but not loud enough to drown out my fear.

  Don’t let go.

  The expression on Elymas’s face turned to granite. The pull on the khopesh grew stronger. Both hands wrapped around the hilt, knuckles white, I gripped tighter.

  Then I felt myself slide, just a fraction, along the cold marble floor. Toward the other side of the room. Toward the fireplace. Toward Elymas.

  Oh shit!

  Frantically, I tried to dig my heels into the floor.

  Get up get up get up!

  But I couldn’t. The marble was too smooth to find purchase, and I couldn’t use my hands without letting go of the khopesh. The demon lord pulled me effortlessly to him by an invisible rope. Panic gripped my chest tighter with each centimeter I edged closer to Elymas. I was halfway across the room when the double doors burst open. Suddenly the odds started to look up.

  Beth and Leo had found us.

  Taking in the situation, Beth didn’t hesitate. She charged at Baptiste, slashing her khopesh across the back of his thigh. Surprised, he cried out and clutched at the gushing wound. He stumbled, slipped in his own blood, and landed on the floor. Wasting no time, Beth swung her blade at Clay and nicked his arm. Not so useless after all.

  Meanwhile, I still slid. And there wasn’t a thing I could do about it unless I let go of the khopesh. Which wasn’t happening.

  “Help her, Leo!” Jonas shouted mid strike at Clay. Beth was back to fending off Baptiste. Somehow he’d pulled himself off the floor, leaving behind a macabre smear of blood on the pale marble. Clay was rabid, dishing out no-holds-barred punches. By the look of Jonas’s split lip and swelling eye, he’d landed a few.

  Elymas was now only meters away. His shirt was soaked with blood, close in color to his precious Penfolds. Arm stretched out toward me, the muscles beneath his skin strained with the effort of drawing me near. A few steps and he’d be able to reach me, but he didn’t release his hold on the mantle. Was he too weak to stand on his own two feet? Too weak to use his power to throw me against something again?

  “Dammit, Leo, what the hell is wrong with you? Help her!” Jonas again.

  Two meters, maybe less. Now would be good, Leo!

  Without letting go of the sword’s hilt, I twisted on the floor and looked behind me. Leo stood just inside the door, khopesh hanging limp at his side. He wasn’t moving, just…standing, staring.

  The guy is petrified. Literally.

  One meter.

  Elymas was almost touching the sword’s tip. I leaned back, fighting against the tow, keeping the khopesh out of his grasp for as long as I
could. For crying out loud, snap out of it, Leo!

  Half a meter. I was practically lying on the floor. The ancient blade vibrated along my body with my desperate effort to hold on.

  Don’t. Let. Go.

  Next Jonas’s foot sliced through the air in front of me and kicked Elymas’s hand up above his head.

  Just like that, the pull on the sword was gone.

  “The window!” Jonas tried to land another kick, but Clay pounced on him again.

  Regardless, it gave me enough time to scramble up. I’d made it around the back of the writing desk when the pull started again. It spun me around and—ugh—I slammed against the heavy hardwood. One sharp corner dug painfully into my hip. I cried out, almost lost my hold on the khopesh.

  The tug on the sword was relentless, mirroring the vicious determination in Elymas’s freaky eyes. He needed the sword. Without it, he couldn’t kill me. With it, I could kill him. My arms burned from the effort of holding on. Shutting out the pain the best I could, I used the writing desk to brace against. I didn’t budge. Nor did the Sword of Absolom.

  Elymas scowled. He couldn’t break my hold. He had to step away from the support of the mantle. Terror gripped me as I watched him do just that. He let go and slowly started walking toward me, all his energy in the outstretched fingers pulling at the unseen rope tied to the sword in my shaking grasp.

  The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the cold air. Somewhere to the right of me Beth and Jonas shouted in frustration at Leo, still motionless, while they fought off Baptiste and Clay.

  Okay, maybe the odds weren’t looking that crash hot after all. If we were going to get out of here alive I had to do something. Fast.

  Think, Cora!

  Normally, when faced with a physically more powerful opponent, I would use his strength and size to my advantage. But Elymas’s power wasn’t tangible like muscle on bone. It was an energy, a force. How did I use that to my advantage?

  Bent forward over the surface of the writing desk, I fought to keep hold of the sword. The pull was so powerful, the blade shook in my hands and I’d lost feeling in most of my fingers. Sweat dripped into the cut on the side of my head. It stung.

  How do I use his own force to my advantage? Words circled in my head. Force. Energy. Pull. Motion. Momentum.

  Momentum!

  It could work. It had to; it was my only option.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I slid out from behind the desk. Like a snapped rubber band, the sudden release propelled me forward, Sword of Absolom pointed straight at Elymas. For a split second his concentration faltered. That was all I needed. I swung the blade. It cut the flesh at his side. The marble at his feet turned crimson. Screaming his outrage, he folded to his knees, but not before he flung me back against the table with a motion of his hand.

  White-hot pain raced up my spine all the way to the base of my skull, so blinding my vision splintered. I didn’t have long. Sword of Absolom wound or not, Elymas would get up eventually. I bit down on the pain and heaved away from the desk.

  In the alcove, Baptiste and Beth circled each other around the lectern. She was slashing at him with her khopesh but cutting nothing more than air. Even wounded, Baptiste was quick, and she was tiring. It was only a matter of time before she lacked the strength to wield the sword. And Baptiste knew it.

  However, he wasn’t expecting me. I drew the sword back, every intension of stabbing it through his heartless middle, but the moment I thrust he turned. All I managed was a gash along the demon’s back. It was enough to have him stagger and fall but not enough to take him out completely. No time to analyze my sword technique. I had to help Jonas and—

  “I need you out of here now!” Jonas grabbed me by the elbow and propelled me toward the window at the back of the alcove. He was covered in blood. His own or Clay’s? I couldn’t tell. His face was a mess.

  “Beth, come on!” He grabbed the sword from me and used its hilt to smash through the window. Only meters away, Elymas was pulling himself to his feet. Across from him, books clattered to the floor as Clay clawed himself off the floor with the help of a bookshelf.

  Seconds.

  We had seconds.

  “What about Leo?” Beth looked around the room frantically as she backed toward us. “I can’t see him.” Her voice rose in panic. Leo wasn’t near the door.

  Jonas pulled her closer to the window. “He’s probably out already. He’s resourceful. Now move.” He shoved her head down, forcing her through the window frame.

  “Cora. Now!” He motioned for me to follow.

  I ducked, about to swing my leg out the window, when…the book. It was right there, on the lectern, only meters away. I pulled away from the window and bolted for it.

  “No!” Jonas grabbed for my arm but missed.

  “The book!” I was there in a second, heaving the tome off the lectern. I couldn’t tear the page out of the book, it had to be Jonas. So it had to come with us.

  Except it was ripped right out of my hands by invisible fingers. I watched it sail across the room and land at Elymas’s feet at the same time as a flood of Groth Maar charged through the room’s double doors.

  Oh. Crap.

  “Forget the book.” Jonas half pulled, half shoved me toward the window. I didn’t argue—there were too many violet eyes in wax-perfect faces storming our way.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jonas

  I jumped through the shattered window after Cora and scanned the area. Manicured lawns, a circular driveway, the mouth of the fire trail up ahead, not far from where we’d left the Corolla. We’re out the front of the building.

  “This way.” Cora pointed to the fire trail. We ran. Each step jarred my jaw and eye socket, the pain so intense I was sure my face would crack.

  Beth grabbed my arm but kept running. “We can’t just leave Leo.”

  “We have no choice.” I couldn’t think about Leo. My priority was getting Cora and Beth the hell out of there. Plus, with the stunt he’d pulled back at the mansion, there was no guarantee I wouldn’t beat the shit out of him myself. I should have left him in the damn car!

  Groth Maar spilled out of the window and the front door. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed there were at least a dozen of them, all of them gaining. I gripped the Sword of Absolom harder, ready to use it if I had to.

  We were at the top of the driveway when the Corolla rounded the corner, Leo behind the wheel. Finally, the idiot does something right.

  He ground the car to a stop in front of us, and we scrambled for the sides, yanking doors open when—ugh! A kick to my back shoved me face-first into the car window. Blood, slick and warm, dripped into my eyes. Half blind, I spun on reflex, Sword of Absolom slashing in a tight arc. It found flesh, cut through muscle…and more. A guttural sound escaped the Groth Maar demon’s throat as he clutched at his middle where the blade had sliced him. A dark red curtain gushed down his stomach and thighs. I gagged, turned, ripped the door open, and threw myself into the passenger seat.

  “Go! Now!” The horde of Groth Maar was almost on top of us.

  “Leo!” Beth screamed when one jumped on the hood of the car. Leo jammed the Corolla’s gears into reverse. Wheels spun, dust billowed, but the demon held on, violet eyes trained on us through the windshield.

  Fear-fueled adrenalin had my pulse pounding in places I didn’t know it could.

  “Get him off,” I yelled.

  “I’m trying.” Leo spun the steering wheel, performing the fastest three-point-turn in driving history. The maneuver did the trick; the demon slid off the hood, rolling in the dirt until his body hit the trunk of a gum tree.

  “Floor it!”

  I didn’t need to tell him twice. The Corolla flew along the fire trail, trees and bushes a dirty green blur. I watched the pack of Groth Maar shrink in the rearview mirror, not allowing mys
elf to breathe until the last of their heads disappeared on the horizon. No one spoke, each of us too frightened to break the silence and be the first to acknowledge how close we’d just come to disaster.

  Once off the fire trail, Leo slowed the car to just above the speed limit—his second smart move of the day. Not too many patrol cars in national parks but no point in taking chances. If we were pulled over by the police we’d be in serious shit, what with being all beaten up and bloodied. Plus, the khopeshes would raise eyebrows.

  My gaze fell on the one lying in my lap. The blood had half dried on the blade, leaving a sickly brown stain on the metal. A strong smell wafted off the weapon, sharp and acidic. Breathing through my mouth didn’t help. There was blood all over my hands, under my nails. Groth Maar blood. But it had almost been… I glanced up and found Cora’s face in the rearview mirror. Ashen and glassy-eyed, she stared ahead, unseeing. A cut above her temple had bled down the side of her face, leaving a scar-like line along her cheek.

  It had almost been Cora’s blood on that blade.

  My gut lurched.

  “Pull over.” Gagging, I grabbed for the door handle.

  “What? Why?” Leo eyed me, confused.

  “Pull over! I need out!”

  He yanked the Corolla off the road and stopped near a cluster of banksia bushes. Just in time. I couldn’t get out of the cabin fast enough. The next moment I threw up all over the nearest shrub.

  She almost died!

  And Beth! Cora and Beth could have died! A second wave of nausea washed over me, and my knees threatened to give. I braced my hands on my thighs to steady myself. Bent over like that, the throbbing in my jaw and eye intensified. Good. I welcomed the pain; it helped shift the focus from the crushing ache in my chest.

  “Jonas?” Cora’s touch on my shoulder.

  I shook my head and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, not ready to face her yet.

  I took her in there. I never should have taken her in there.

  “Jonas, you okay?” She squeezed my shoulder, urging me up. I turned and did the only rational thing at that moment: I hauled her into my arms. And held on to her, just…held on, breathed her in.