Waltzing into Damnation

by Rita Stradling

  Hugging myself, my nails bite into my arms.

  It’s not like I have a choice now, as the moment I waver in my quest, I’ll be dragged to hell. And why should I hesitate?

  Rubbing my forehead as if I can scrub out my own hesitation, I turn to glance over the clock. I freeze. The long minute hand clicks to point at twenty-five after ten.

  Mouthing expletives, I rush across the room toward the door and slip outside, barefoot.

  Wind blasts into my side as I step out of the atrium at the ninth floor. The deck at the stern of the boat waits deserted. Low over-hanging lights illuminate the space, along with a haunting blue glow emitting from the sloshing pool.

  I inch along with my back to the side of the slick boat, hoping I don’t look as ridiculous as I feel. Ridiculous or not, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let another demon sneak up on me plotting murder.

  As I turn the first bend, I find that the deck isn’t completely unoccupied. A bar stretches out along the inner wall of the deck. Because of a slight curve in the wall, the occupants sit sheltered from the wind that had been whipping around me. Santiago waits central in the space, but he isn’t close to alone. Theo sits to one of his sides, holding a glass of water to her forehead, eyes squeezed shut.

  Beside the couple are two other faces I recognize, José and Tamara. They lean against the bar. Their poses scream ‘casual,’ but their vigilant expressions say they’re anything but calm right now. Three others I don’t recognize stand around the group, a man, and two women. They aren’t obviously supernatural. The man is a little shorter than the two women, though all three of them stand a couple inches shorter than my-extreme-tallness.

  An ambush?

  Nothing in their postures suggests aggression, but why wait for me in a secluded section of the boat with so much backup? Leaving isn’t an option, but I consider if maybe there’s some other way to seek the information from Santiago and not risk getting thrown overboard.

  My choice is made when Tamara spins around, sniffing the air, her gaze finds mine. Her golden, furry brow furrows and snout twitches in clear confusion, and she waves for me to come closer. It’s a friendly wave from what I can tell, a ‘come on over here’ gesture versus a ‘come into my lair.’

  I hesitate only a moment longer, lightly jogging my feet in place. Aside from Theo rebuffing my plea for help, these guys have only been kind to me when they definitely didn’t need to be.

  Maybe Barbas is right, I realize. Maybe I don’t trust anyone in the world at all at this point—incapable. Ruined.

  Peeking around once and biting my lip, I head in, grateful when the wind ceases at my back.

  As soon as I step into the alcove that houses the bar, six pairs of worried eyes land on me. Several lounging chairs and tables cluster around the pool area, but the bar only has one row of stools around it. Subsequently, I walk toward them, not really knowing if I should be aiming for a seat… or which seat to aim for.

  Seeing me, Santiago bounces to his feet as I approach, a smile on his handsome face and his hand outstretched for a shake. “Thank you for meeting me.”

  I clear my throat. “Thank you for meeting me. You’re the one doing me a favor.”

  His gaze drops from mine as he mutters, “Oh, you’re welcome, then. Of course.”

  Theo stands, approaching me slowly. “Raven, am I right? You have met Tamara and José.”

  They each nod and smile at me.

  “And this here is Avianess, Vera, and Markus.”

  The three other occupants of the bar step closer, all holding up their hands to shake. Avianess’ name sounds familiar, but it doesn’t click until I notice the fine, downy feathers covering all three of the newcomers’ skin.

  That cruise director had said Avianess and her feathered dancers were about to perform a breathtaking aerial show. Assumedly, it was these three.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say as I grip each of their hands in turn. Even their fingers have that stiff yet soft feathery feel to them.

  Theo gathers herself up as her hair sways around her head. “This is my family. I know you understand what that means. I just want you to see who will likely die if we help you.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Two Days Before

  Immediately, I know my suspicions were right.

  I walked straight into an ambush, only in this scenario, I’m the one killing them. I look between the faces, taking care to memorize each one, as Theo asked me to do. And when I return my gaze to the mermaid woman, I stare into her aquamarine eyes, determined not to disrespect her by shying away from the blame. “I understand.”

  Around us, Theo's family shuffles uncertainly, glancing at each other.

  “Well, this is fun, but I gotta get to work,” Tamara growls in a barking voice. “Ha. Work seems like a party compared to hanging out here.”

  “We have a show,” Avianess whispers in a low tone as her hand squeezes Theo's arm. They file out, leaving only José, Santiago, and Theo behind.

  “I don't claim to know the future,” I say as I sit down on the barstool next to José. “Actually, I have the ability to see the future, but I only see pieces, and it's usually the near future. It's more random than anything. But I don't really know what's at the end of this road. What I do know is that if you don't help me before the end of tomorrow, a demon will drag me down into hell by my hair. He’ll then kill me. At that point, the demon you saw me with today will open the gates of hell, and all of the greater demons will come up with their armies.”

  On the bar, Theo grips Santiago’s hand so tightly, her knuckles whiten, but no one responds.

  Sighing, I admit the truth, “At the same time, angels are planning to destroy the Earth as well. It's very likely that if you don't help me, all of you will die anyway.” I lace my fingers in front of me and force myself to look back into their faces. Mainly, I look at Theo because I think she's the one to convince of the three. “I’m going on the hope that there’s still some way to stop all of this, and that’s where you, Santiago, come in.”

  “What does helping you entail?” José leans an elbow on the bar as his sharp, long ears twitch independently of each other.

  I glance around the area once more, and even though I don't find anyone, I lower my voice. “I was alive before, centuries ago—like reincarnation, but a little different. In that life, I promised my soul to the demon you saw with me today. He is the one who convinced the great deceiver to let me live again. In this former life, a man told me how to kill the demon you saw me with today. A demon named Barbas led me to you. He said that you,” I look at Santiago, “can unlock that memory.”

  Theo's expression darkens from wary to stormy. Her aquamarine eyes seethe with outrage, and for one moment I swear I see lightning crackle in their depths. “You want us to help you kill the Grand Marquis who controls all these demons?”

  “Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking you to do,” I say quietly.

  “No,” Theo snaps. I'm expecting it, but her refusal still hits me like a slap to the face. She stands from her barstool, staring at me like I pulled out a gun at a tea party.

  “Theo,” Santiago says in a cajoling voice. He looks to me, and in his expression, I can see his indecision.

  Theo paces toward me, her long fin-like feet flapping on the deck. She stops beside me and points her finger into the bar, pressing down so hard, her knuckle threatens to bend the wrong way. “No. You think you understand our situation because you watched the show. You don’t. Santiago didn't become a slave to save the life of the woman he loved. He became a slave to save a dying creature he didn't even know. He saved every one of us, and this cost him his immortal life but not to death. Death would be preferable. Do not ask him to do this,” she says as tears glisten on her cheeks. “You don’t deserve his help—none of us do.”

  “I don't want to, but I have to ask him. I don't have a choice anymore,” I say.

  Never have I felt so much like a demon as I do while looking into t
hese good people's faces and knowing I'm going to ask them to risk dying to save Stephen's and my life. But I've locked myself into this position now.

  “You are not a good person,” Theo says, echoing my thoughts as she squeezes her eyes closed and more tears leak onto her cheeks.

  “I couldn't agree with you more. But I literally don't have a chance without his help. Maybe there's some way I can do this and help you guys, too,” I say, even knowing it's probably impossible. It's not like I could go to Andras and tell him to free them. Suspicious much? “Maybe there’s something—I don’t know— something I could do to protect you guys while you’re here?”

  But even without seeing their cautiously hopeful expressions, I know what they want more than anything.

  Theo’s stormy eyes find mine, and she says, “You freed your sister and friends from their lifetime contracts.”

  “That was a different situation,” I say.

  This time, I know I see lightning crackling in her gaze. “Different because that was your family?”

  “Different because I could ask Andras to free them without suspicion landing on them. If I asked him to free you, he’d probably kill you. Or he’ll find out why I wanted you free and then kill you.”

  “We just need one contract dissolved,” José says from my other side. When I turn to look at him, the overhead bar lights glow off his hairy face. His expression is more friendly, though I don't deserve it. “We only need Santiago's contract dissolved. All of us, we're here voluntarily. We are part of his show, and so we have room and board. But we never entered a contract with the Sanctuary.”

  “If you help me now, I swear to you that no one will ever know.” I feel so evil saying it, but I have no choice. From the crowd I saw around Santiago’s show, I know there is no way I would be able to convince Caroline to dissolve his contract in twenty-four hours without Andras getting wind of it.

  “If his contract is dissolved, he can help you, and then all of us can escape.” José nods. “They'll never find us. Whether or not the world is going to end, we don’t want to die on this boat.”

  Santiago covers Jose’s hand with his free hand, and I realize I’m sitting in front of the best kind of people.

  One of these people is not like the other, and that’s me. I can’t ask them to save me if they’ll more than likely die for it. There has to be some line I won’t cross, some demarcation that will divide me from those I want to defeat.

  “I really want to help you,” Santiago says. “But this is the decision my family voted on, and I have to honor what they chose. I do think I am capable of doing this thing you ask for. But I don't think it will be pleasant.”

  Suddenly, the boat jolts, like it hit something, and jumps under us. The gentle swaying rhythm of the ship becomes more like a violent lurching elevator upward.

  “Is this normal?” I ask as I grab the bar.

  “No,” all three of them yell as they too grab onto the bar.

  Yells and screams and other—odder—sounds rise up from the ship. A roar grows louder behind us, and then glass explodes across the deck as figures flood in from both sides. They’re in such a rush that several fall into the pool.

  Those with wings take to the sky, while others pack in like demon-sardines.

  All the while, the deck keeps lurching upward with increasing intensity.

  The crowd around us thickens so much that the sulfurous smell along with the constant shaking make bile rise in my throat. A scaly creature bumps into me. Their sharp scales scrape against my skin, and I hold my breath for a second, but they don’t burst into ash.

  Just in case, though, I climb onto the bar.

  The screeching and hollering sound hushes as the crowd pushes into each other, forming a path from one side of the doors. They shove so hard that, at one side of the ship demons topple overboard, falling off the boat with muffled cries.

  A moment later, Andras walks onto the deck. His black wings shoot out of his back and trail behind. He holds out a familiar glowing sword, held at his side. Halfway through the crowd, he halts and yells out in a harsh, terrifying voice, “Where is she?!”

  I swallow. “Um . . . uh, Andras,” I call out while raising my hand like I’m in class. “I’m right here.”

  He spins, smacking some of the surrounding demons with his wings. His gaze lands on mine, and I swear that even from this distance, I see relief there. Almost absently, he sheaths the glowing blade into nothing at all, and it vanishes.

  For a moment, I think the shaking ship is because of Andras’ rage when something slams into the boat and I go flying off the bar.

  Screaming, I tumble straight onto the clot of bodies before me. Many of them try to move away, but my hand comes down on a horn – and poof! The demon’s gone.

  The bodies jostle away, and I tumble to the deck just as the ash of the demon sucks down and disappears.

  “Raven!”

  Coughing, I look up to Andras as the deck lurches again. He hovers above me, his great black wings beating the air and slamming into the creatures unlucky enough to still be packed close by. His shirt is only scraps of fabric at this point as if his wings burst out of his shirt and tore it to bits.

  He lands beside me, reaching down.

  I hesitate only a second before grabbing onto his arm. I’m not about to go charging through this crowd like a needle in a balloon bouquet, bursting unsuspecting demons as I go.

  Unsuspecting demons?

  My mind is in such a messed up place right now.

  My hand clasps around Andras’ wrist, and he pulls me into his bare chest, wrapping his warm arms around me. The deck continues to lurch, and we launch into the air. The warm night breeze buffets us as we shoot skyward. Other figures fly in the night sky, but as they do on the ground, they rush to flap their leathery wings out of our way.

  The shaking boat and glimmering ocean are suddenly very far away from us, and without even realizing, I find my arms and legs wrapped around Andras, and I’m squeezing him to me like a monkey in a tree.

  He doesn’t even seem to notice as he continues upward and then turns his trajectory away from the boat.

  Even though I mentally beg my limbs to stop practically dry humping my arch nemesis, they won’t listen. I squeeze around his neck and waist as my face presses to the soft, bristly skin under his chin.

  Way too much of his warm bare skin touches mine. And to make matters worse, he absently rubs my back in apparent comfort, though he’s staring over my shoulder and away from me.

  Following his line of concentration, I look back toward the ship.

  The side of the white ocean liner stands out starkly against the dark ocean. The boat jerks back and forth visibly, but for the life of me, I can’t determine the source of the rocking. We circle the ship, and his flight makes us softly go up and down in the air, his large feathery wings whooshing all around us.

  As we circle to the other side of the ship, my gaze fixes down to a strange shadow at the base of the hull and what looks like dark veins spreading up the expanse at the base of the ship. As they continue to spread, I correct my thought; they aren't like veins, it looks like a time-lapse video of a tree growing with vegetation shooting off to rapidly grow around the boat.

  “Is that… are those branches?” I yell over the roar of the wind.

  “She found us earlier than I planned,” Andras says.

  “She…” I trail off because it clicks in my mind. Branches, a woman looking for Andras, a baby – snake onboard. We’re about to get a visit from the Earth witch who hated me only a little less than she did my present company. And that witch is literally building a bridge from the far distant land to our boat.

  “She won't sink or capsize it,” Andras says.

  Thank you, Captain Obvious.

  “We could, you know, just give her back her baby. I have a feeling that even though her child is seriously creepy, she'll be a better mother than someone who kidnapped him and fed him Satan's blood,” I call up. �
��Your deal with May is over, right? Can't you just give him back?”

  “I could let someone give him back. But this Madeline has changed quite a bit from the woman you used to know. I think even if we give the child back, she'll sink this ship.”

  “Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if the old Madeline did that, too. At least if she thought there were no humans on here except me, she might,” I amend, remembering Madeline was once a pacifist.

  What this war with evil has turned us all into is almost too sad to contemplate.

  “It is of no matter. I just hope she doesn't damage the Sanctuary too much.” As soon as Andras says this, he dives back toward the ship.

  We land on the deck at the bow of the boat, where crew members hang over the side, presumably trying to see down to the branches.

  Andras lands heavily, and I immediately uncoil from around him and drop my feet to the deck. In my enthusiasm, I stumble away a little too fast and slip, and Andras catches me by my shoulders.

  “Careful,” he whispers.

  Pushing off his bare chest, I get some much needed distance.

  “Andras . . .” I force myself to meet his gaze. “Madeline may have changed into something else, but she’s a mom trying to get her baby back. I’m not going to let you kill her.”

  His brow furrows, stretching the scar that spans his face into a white line. “Why are you lying to me about this?”

  Perplexed, I think about it. “It probably reads as a lie because no part of me believes that I can prevent you. But I’m going to do everything in my power to get in your way. Does that read as truth?”

  He nods sharply. “That reads as truth. I don’t remember you being this—”

  “Annoying?” I supply.

  “Assertive. In your former life, I remember you as more reactive.”

  “Well, I guess it took me two deaths, hell on Earth and a stalker demon to figure out how to do this.”

  I flip him the bird. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve ever done it in my life, but it feels fantastic.

  Andras, however, seems unimpressed as he looks at my middle finger, and then into my eyes. A sandy brow raises up his forehead. “It took you all that time to learn how to raise your finger?”