Waltz into Fire

by L. J. Garland

  Fallon glanced between the book and the floor. “I think so.” Her gaze lifted to his face. “What if it’s not? What if it doesn’t work and—”

  “It’ll work.” He took her hand. “And if not, you can blow him back to hell with your fireballs.”

  “I don’t know.” She frowned, doubt invading her face. “What if I can’t?”

  “This isn’t the time for hesitation, Fallon.” He traced her jaw with his finger. “You can. And I’ll be right here with you.”

  “So will we,” said Erik from behind them.

  “About time you got here.” Lifting his chin, Zane peered at the glass ceiling. “It’s getting late.”

  Wyatt held up a box. “Candles. These offer just enough light so we can see what we’re doing and hopefully not enough for the demon to notice the trap on the floor.”

  They set the wax pillars around the room and lit them. Zane grimaced and wondered after this if he’d ever find candlelight romantic again.

  “Okay,” Erik said, gathering with the others near one of the columns. “I doubt we’ll need them, but I’ve stashed some flashlights near the door just in case.”

  “Good.” Wyatt glanced at Fallon. “Can’t be too careful. This bastard could call up the winds for all we know. Can’t have us sitting in the dark.”

  Adrenaline pumped through Zane. He wanted to kill Haileon, but more than that he wanted to keep the woman he loved safe.

  “Wait,” she said. “What about Amber?”

  “Yeah.” Erik eyed his brother. “Did you get in touch with her?”

  “Ah-yuh.” Wyatt grimaced, his gaze dropping to the candles spaced across the floor. “She thought our plan sounded solid, said she really wanted to be here with us but couldn’t.”

  Erik frowned. “Did she say why?”

  He shook his head. “Just that something had come up she couldn’t get out of.”

  “Is she okay?” Concern laced Fallon’s words.

  “Not sure. She said she was, but I’m not inclined to believe her. She sounded distracted. Told me to tell you she misses us and will get here as soon as she can. I’ll get to the bottom of it once we finish this.”

  Fallon nodded. “I hope so.”

  Wyatt lifted his chin. “Hey, you say the chant and throw fireballs, and everything’ll be fine.”

  Zane glared at the brothers and second-guessed his decision to allow Fallon’s involvement in their crazy scheme. “You guys just do your part, and everything should be fine.”

  Wyatt nodded to Erik. “We got it under control.”

  The other brother held up a water bottle filled with a murky liquid and unscrewed the top. A stench crawled through the air. “We found a hidden pantry-cooler combo stocked with all kinds of weird stuff. Had everything we needed to cook the potion up. If this doesn’t kill him, the smell will.”

  Wyatt laughed. “So, Fallon, we’ve got you set up here next to this table. The book’s open to the summoning spell with a book light, so you can read it easily enough. After you get Haileon here, start with the fireballs and back him into the pentagram. Once he’s there—”

  “Wyatt will begin the chant to kill him,” Erik finished. “I’ll throw some of this god-awful crap on him and—”

  “Poof!” Wyatt said with a triumphant grin. “Vanquished demon.”

  Zane glanced from one brother to the other. “And if it all goes to shit?”

  Erik gestured toward the far end of the conservatory. “If he’s in the pentagram, he can’t hurt us.”

  “And if he figures out what we’re trying to do?” Zane crossed his arms over his chest. “What if he avoids the trap, and now we’ve got one bad ass demon pissed off at us? What then?”

  Wyatt’s brows drew down. “What’s up? I thought you were on board with this, Zane. I thought you wanted your life back.”

  “I do,” he shot back. “But not at the expense of Fallon’s life. Whatever happens, she comes first.”

  Her brothers looked at her. “Of course,” they said in unison.

  Zane shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Listen,” Wyatt said, his voice calm but stern. “If you have doubts, you two can hit the sidelines and Erik and I can handle this. No problem.”

  Anger shot through him. “Don’t you dare think for one second that you can handle this. I’ve seen this asshole. He’s big and bad and will most definitely kick your scrawny ass. He nearly choked Fallon to—”

  She touched his arm. “Zane.”

  He swung around on her. “Don’t you defend them. They have no idea—”

  “I know, Zane.” She reached up and smoothed her hand along his jaw, her touch soothing the fury raging through him. “But I won’t abandon them, either. We all know the risks here.”

  He clenched his jaw and said, “Fine. But I’m not leaving your side.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  “We’re good to go?” Wyatt arched a brow.

  Against his better judgment, Zane nodded. “We’ll get him to the pentagram. You guys do the rest. We pull this off, I’ll buy dinner and drinks.”

  “Deal.” Erik saluted him with the bottle of potion intended to kill Haileon. Striding to the far end of the room, he crouched behind an upturned table.

  Wyatt pointed at Zane. “Have faith. This’ll go off without a hitch. It’ll be porterhouse steaks and a keg of beer.”

  Zane smiled, appreciating the audacity of the guy, but hoping he was right, too. “You got it.”

  He held up a notebook with a book light attached. “I copied the chant down. No sense lugging that huge tome around. When you get him here and in the trap, I’ll be ready.” Striding to the other end of the conservatory, he knelt behind a table that flanked Erik’s.

  Zane turned to Fallon. Unable to keep from touching her, he slid his hands down her arms. “You ready for this?”

  “Sure.” The brevity of her voice belied her answer.

  Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers, praying this would not be the last time. He pressed his forehead to Fallon’s. “I’m right here.”

  She moved to the table holding the book, and he ducked behind another that he’d set up next to her. He glanced up and nodded that he was ready. Fallon read the words from the tome, her voice nerve-laden at the start, but strengthening with each foreign syllable. Her expression shifted, and she seemed to call forth all the courage she possessed, preparing for battle.

  The conservatory brightened. The candle flames elongated, reaching for the cloudy sky churning overhead. The glass walls acted as mirrors, reflecting the light. Zane grimaced. So much for hiding the pentagram on the floor.

  Fallon continued reading the summoning spell. The words rang in his ears. The room tilted. Zane stiffened. Something was wrong.

  His arm ached. Tugging up his shirtsleeve, he caught sight of his tattoo and jolted. The circle and triangle glowed red, the H and three smoldered. Shit. He slapped his hand over his biceps just as smoke curled into his nostrils.

  Pain gouged his arm, searing through the skin and down to the bone. He tumbled to the floor, his body shaking from the assault. He craned his neck and met Fallon’s horrified gaze.

  Shuddering in agony, Zane gritted out, “He’s coming.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Fallon’s focus shattered, an awful panic piercing the confidence she’d gathered. She stared at Zane, who lay huddled on the floor, his face a mask of agony. Her heart stuttered, and she shook her head. She couldn’t do this to him, couldn’t allow him to suffer at the demon’s hands a second time.

  “Fallon,” he gasped. Looking up at her, his gaze commanded even while pain swirled in the depths of his eyes. “F-finish.”

  Oh, God, how could she do this? But if she didn’t follow through, Haileon would take his soul for all eternity. With great difficulty, she fought back her fear and reminded herself why they were here. For Zane’s freedom. For Zane’s life. Glancing down at the tome, she read the final line of the summoning spell.


  Wind shrieked through the conservatory, extinguishing several candles. The frigid gust raked over Fallon and tore at the pages of the book. Next to her, Zane yelled in anguish, and she twisted just in time to see flames shoot between his fingers where he grasped his tattooed arm. Doubt jolted through her. What had she done?

  The wind died, and chills pricked Fallon’s arms. She rounded toward the center of the conservatory, expecting to find the hulking demon. Instead, the angelic version of Haileon faced her.

  “Fallon,” the blond boy called in a singsong voice. “You want to play?”

  A shiver hammered down her spine. Would he strangle her again or just break her neck this time? Clenching her teeth, she tried to force the negative thoughts from her mind and remember the bits and pieces she’d read regarding her power.

  Air breathes life.

  Fire dwells within.

  The creator must control.

  Point at the target.

  The last and most important step had come from Zane, the realization budding confidence within her once again. For Zane’s soul.

  Inhaling, she held her hands out to her sides. Flames lit over each palm. As she exhaled, she envisioned her breath coursing down her arms and through her fingers to feed the fire. The molten orbs grew. Without reservation, she swept her right arm toward the evil child and pointed at him.

  The fireball hurtled across the room, striking Haileon in the chest. He stumbled back. Fallon threw the second ball at the demon, the impact sending him to the floor.

  Her heart leapt. He was almost inside the pentagram. This was going to work!

  Forcing herself to remain calm, she breathed in and created two more orbs. Haileon bolted to his feet, his black gaze hot and intense. He smiled, his lips parting in a hideous grin much too wide for his face and revealed a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth.

  On an exhale, she flicked a fireball at him, but he batted it away. The fiery orb shot off at an angle to explode through a glass pane in the conservatory wall. Haileon wagged a finger at her and laughed.

  “My turn,” he said in a voice so deep it reverberated through her bones.

  Icy fear clawed at her composure, threatening to shred her confidence. Even now, fatigue weighed heavy on her body.

  Join me into one…. the now familiar voice of fire whispered to her.

  In an instant, she created another fireball in her free hand and brought them together over her head. The two orbs melded into one.

  Yes!

  This time, she expelled in a harsh rush, imagining all of her anger and fear threading through her arms, mixing with her breath to feed the fireball. Fallon threw the flaming orb at Haileon, both of her arms extended, her fingers targeting the demon boy. He held up his hands to deflect her attack, but the impact still sent the demon stumbling back.

  Right into the center of the pentagram trap.

  He must have sensed a change because he looked down with wide, astonished eyes. Hope snatched at Fallon’s heart. She’d done it! She’d snared the demon!

  Beside her, Zane’s screams diminished to groans. He rolled to his back, his breath coming in short pants, and stared up at her. Gratitude swirled with the pain in his gaze.

  Haileon bolted across the pentagram but stopped short of stepping over the edge. Malevolence glittered in his black eyes. He fisted one hand as though trying to choke her, but nothing happened. He flicked his other hand toward her, but, again, with no effect. The demon bowed his head, his preternatural growl rumbling through the room.

  The top of the boy’s blond head distended upward, an unnatural rolling motion as though something pushed beneath the skull. Fallon gulped and stepped back. The true beast meant to make his appearance, and she had to admit, his nightmarish tactic sent her stomach rolling. Blood spurted from the boy’s head to splash nearby foliage followed by a sharp crack as the cranium broke in two. Claws emerged through the tangled mass of blond tresses to tear the remainder of the body in half in a single slick rip. The skin sloughed to the floor, and from the bloody puddle arose a beast of spiky talons and razor-sharp scales.

  Fallon reached up to touch the spot where one of those hexagonal plates had sliced her cheek, her confidence waning.

  Haileon raised his tattoo-riddled head and straightened to well over eight feet in height. Fallon shuddered, thankful the demon was in a trap. With a smirk, he glanced at the floor then lifted his gaze, pinning her with a set of elongated crimson pupils swimming in black orbs.

  “You think this will hold me?” He snorted and ran a dark, forked tongue over his lips. “I will rip the flesh from your bones with my teeth while I bring your fragile human body to the peaks of ecstasy. You will writhe beneath me in pleasure and pain, promising me your servitude. Your soul.”

  Terror wove through her, threatening to buckle her legs. “Never,” she growled and locked her knees.

  Zane shoved to his feet and leaned against the table next to her. He gave her a weak smile then rasped, “Erik. Wyatt.”

  The brothers eased up from behind their barricades, their faces confessing their apprehension. Erik clutched the water bottle containing the potion to destroy the demon, and Wyatt held the paper that he’d written the vanquishing spell on.

  Haileon jerked around, giving each of them a baleful stare. Then he laughed, a deep, discordant rumble that set Fallon’s teeth on edge.

  “More Sentinels?” Haileon said. “Oh my boys, how I will enjoy tasting your powers and consuming your souls. You will become my soldiers. My lovers. You will beg to pleasure me—”

  “Now!” Fallon yelled.

  Her words seemed to jolt her brothers into action. Wyatt smoothed out his paper in hasty movements while Erik yanked open the bottle, sloshing the fetid potion onto the floor. Pouring some of the goo onto his fingers, he slung the liquid at the demon, but the droplets fell short. With a grimace, he stepped from behind his upturned table to move closer. His second attempt hit home.

  The demon flinched. Smoke curled from where the potion landed on his scaly thigh, and thick, sooty blood dripped down his leg. With a snarl, he shuffled back and fixed his glare on her. “You will pay, Fallon Anderson.”

  Wyatt read the incantation, his voice strong. The air around the demon shimmered, ice crystals forming from nothing to dance and swirl around him. However, the beast didn’t react as though frozen water assaulted him, but more like acid burned beneath his metallic hide.

  Zane took Fallon’s hand. She glanced at him, spying restrained hope in his eyes. His features remained tight, guarded, and the question so obviously plaguing him lay plain on his face. Would he at last be free of this horrible fate?

  Haileon twisted and spun in the pentagram. His wails, snarls, and curses triggering every glass panel in the conservatory to shiver in their frames. The syllables Wyatt spoke permeated the room, his tone rising above the demon’s tortured howls. And the more goo Erik landed, the more sulfur-scented smoked curled from the beast. The demonic symbols adorning Haileon’s neck, face, and bald head glowed hot amber, and thick lines of black blood streamed over his skin.

  Zane squeezed her hand. Wyatt’s voice grew louder, his words fevered. The demon shuffled and darted, trying to avoid getting splashed with the foul-scented liquid, and Erik moved around the circle, chasing after him.

  “You pathetic pig,” Haileon taunted. “I will fuck you first, ram you with my clawed fist while your brother holds you down.”

  Erik recoiled at the depraved statement. Then his face contorted, rage marring his features. “Eat this, you sick son of a bitch!”

  He chucked the potion at the demon. The water bottle tumbled, end over end, and thudded against Haileon’s scaly hide, a portion of the liquid splashing on him. Stumbling away, the beast doubled over, howling with rage and pain. The container clattered to the floor, and the remaining contents spilled out onto the concrete….

  And washed away a part of the chalk pentagram.

  Haileon threw his head back and roared. A band of ene
rgy pulsed through the air, the shockwave blowing out several windows. With a flick of his hand, the demon sent Erik flying backward to crash into an overturned table and flip over the edge.

  Wyatt paused, staring wide-eyed at where his brother had landed then resumed his recitation. The words tumbled from his mouth, one slurring into the next.

  With a growl, Haileon rounded on Wyatt. The demon clenched his fingers together, and Fallon’s brother ceased speaking. Rising into the air, he kicked his feet, his struggles useless.

  “Ah, the weakest link,” the demon said and chuckled. “Poor boy. Afraid of your own shadow. Hardly worth the effort to harvest your feeble soul.”

  Turning a wild-eyed gaze on Fallon, Wyatt silently begged her for help as he clawed at his throat.

  She shot her hands out to her sides, fireballs springing to life above her palms. Zane moved behind her, lengthening his arms along hers, his fingers resting on her wrists. The warmth of him wound through her, his strength joining hers, his breath feeding the flame with hers. As one, they exhaled.

  The molten orbs expanded, each rippling with energy. Zane moved with her, their right hands swinging toward the beast, their fingers pointing in unison. The fireball shot across the conservatory and slammed into the demon’s back, sending him stumbling. Together, they spun, as graceful as any dancer, arcing around to release the second orb. The fiery ordinance hammered the fiend’s shoulder, sending metallic scales zinging through the air.

  Her brother dropped to the concrete, coughing and wheezing.

  “Not done with you!” Haileon twitched his wrist, and Wyatt flew backward, smashing through a window and disappearing out into the darkness beyond.

  “No!” Fallon advanced on the demon, her heart pounding with fear for her brother.

  From across the room, a table careened toward her, but Zane shoved her to the floor, taking the impact. Rolling to her side, she spotted him, sprawled amid several overturned plants and broken pots. He moaned and pushed himself upright only to clutch his tattooed arm and howl in agony.

  Haileon stalked across the room, his dark gaze on her. “My once faithful soldier has strayed.”