Demon Marked tg-7

by Meljean Brook

The demon snipped off the end of the barbed wire and looked at him. “There is your Gift. I will tell—”

  “Don’t you want to be the first to know what it is?” Though he was barely able to speak, Nicholas’s voice covered the next snap!

  “Tell me.”

  “I see fear. Yours. It’s like a black ribbon, all around you. You fear Lucifer.”

  “As all demons do.”

  Snap!

  Her hand slipped through. The chains rattled as she swung, unbalanced.

  Nicholas smiled. “You should have feared her.”

  Ash called in her boomstick. Thumb, forefinger. That was all she fucking needed.

  The demon turned. Very close range, hellhound venom. She pulled the trigger. The boom echoed through the chamber. His face exploded.

  “Loud,” Nicholas said. “Go fast.”

  “I know.” Before the demon had even collapsed to the floor, she’d vanished the weapon again, reached up for the chain. It took one good pull to haul herself up. Bracing her feet against the ceiling, she yanked. The bolt tore from stone in a shower of chips—she fell.

  Between heartbeats, she flipped around, got her feet under her. Landed.

  “My God, you’re amazing.”

  She formed her wings, leapt for his chain. Pulled it free. He dropped—even she couldn’t outrace gravity and catch him.

  But he was sewn up, so nothing fell out.

  He stood, his hands locked together in front of him. “Manacles?”

  “No time. Here.” She placed a crossbow in his hand. It would be awkward, but he could fire it. “Come on.”

  She shifted into her demon form, vanished her clothes—and vanished the manacle and chain, too.

  Nicholas stared. “What the—”

  “They aren’t connected to the tower anymore,” she realized. “They’re ours now, so we can take them.”

  “Take mine.”

  Oh, that made it so much easier. She vanished the manacles, his chain. Facing the door, she took a deep breath. “We really need more training before we do this.”

  “We’ll get it. After we get out.”

  She shoved open the door, ducked into the corridor. No glowing red eyes. Just screams.

  A lot more screams than there had been before. The smell of ozone and charred flesh choked the air.

  She expected the charred flesh. Not the ozone.

  Oh. Oh . . . She knew who that was.

  “Open your mental shields,” she said. “Now. Let them find us.”

  Three pairs of glowing red eyes appeared in the middle of the corridor. Sir Pup. Jake stood in front of the hellhound, electricity arcing between his hands. Holding a bloodied sword, his skin blackened with soot, Hugh stared through the darkness toward them.

  “Say your names,” he said.

  She started forward. “Ash and Nicholas.”

  “Truth.”

  Jake nodded. “Then get your asses over here, hang on to me. Let’s get the fuck out of—Oh, Jesus flippin’ Christ. St. Croix, what did they do to you?”

  Nicholas took Ash’s hand, reached out to touch Jake’s arm.

  “Strangely enough, they gave me a present. And Lucifer gave more than he bargained for.”

  They found a healer first.

  Jake teleported them straight to Pim, sitting in the novice common room on the second floor of the Special Investigations warehouse. When she saw Nicholas, her “Oh, my God!” brought others running.

  “Help him,” Ash said.

  Pim recovered a moment later, knelt in front of him. “All right—”

  Nicholas shook his head. “Her hand, first.”

  “But—” Ash broke off when his mouth set. Okay. So he couldn’t bear being healed while she was hurting. One day, she’d point out that she felt exactly the same way—but not today, if agreeing meant no more delay. She held out her hand to Pim. “Go.”

  The novice touched her palm. Warmth spread through Ash’s fingers; she felt the bones shift back into place. When Pim drew her hand back, Ash bent her fingers—painlessly. Incredible. But would it be that simple for Nicholas?

  Pim looked to him. “All right. You have to give me permission to vanish this wire first. It’s yours.”

  “Then it’s yours now,” Nicholas said. He closed his eyes, clenching his teeth—bracing himself.

  Taylor appeared next to Ash, gasped. Her hands rose to cover her mouth. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t—”

  Ash touched her shoulder, stopped her. “You tried. We appreciate it, very much.”

  “Okay, just relax. This won’t hurt a bit.” Though focused on Nicholas this time, the power of Pim’s Gift spread like warm fingers against Ash’s psyche. The wire vanished. The jagged wounds left behind smoothed into tanned skin, hard muscle. “All done.”

  Nicholas blinked his eyes open. “That’s it?”

  “Yep.” Pim nodded. “That’s it.”

  With a wild laugh, Ash threw herself at him. His arms wrapped around her, held her tight.

  “I love you,” he said against her hair. “And my God, you’re amazing.”

  Easy for her. She hadn’t been the one ripped open. Pulling back to look up at him, she made certain that everything was in place, that he hadn’t hidden any lingering pain. But, no. His eyes glowed blue, and he was just as beautiful as ever.

  She looked over at the sound of heels running up the stairs. Lilith appeared, her gaze searching for Hugh, for Sir Pup, and the tension in her face eased when she spotted them both. Her mouth softened into a smile.

  “You made it back, then?”

  “As I told you we would,” Hugh said.

  “So you did, martyr.” She said it fondly, and her brows arched when she saw Ash with her arms wrapped around Nicholas. “You made it, too. Both of you. I’m impressed. Now, can you tell us what the fuck Khavi was thinking?”

  “I think so,” Nicholas said, and Ash felt the sudden, subtle tightening of his body against hers. “Or you can ask her.”

  Heart pounding, Ash glanced around. Khavi had appeared in the common room, standing at the end of the hallway leading to the novices’ quarters.

  A gun appeared in Taylor’s hand. “Get out,” she said. “Now.”

  “What did Lucifer fear?” Khavi looked to Nicholas. “We need to know.”

  “Not much.” Nicholas surprised Ash by answering. “Not much at all. But there were two things I felt clearly: He fears Michael, and he fears that you’ll discover that Ash can free everyone in the frozen field. He didn’t intend to enter into a bargain. But he also didn’t dare to spill her blood.”

  “How?” Khavi whispered, stepping forward.

  Taylor shook her head.

  Khavi looked from Ash to Taylor’s gun. “I can’t see everything, but I can see the symbols from here, if you shift to human form again.”

  After a glance at Nicholas, who nodded, Ash shifted.

  “And she’s naked again,” Pim said.

  Ash grinned. Nicholas laughed, kissed her brow.

  “There it is,” Khavi breathed. “The symbols are necessary for her transformation, so I looked before, but I did not see them as part of this arrangement. The symbols are not meant to work together as they are written, but they could be put together—and if you had agreed to reverse the transformation, the proper arrangement would have been gone.”

  “He asked if I wanted to be Rachel again,” Ash said. “I think he meant to torture Nicholas until I agreed.”

  “Oh, yes. Probably so much that you would agree to kill Nicholas just to put him out of his misery. That sounds very much like Lucifer.” Khavi’s focus dropped to the symbols again. “I can make the proper spell from these, one that would free everyone in the field. But why does he fear releasing all of them so much? Michael, I can understand. But the others? I do not know.”

  Did it even matter? Lucifer feared it. That was good enough for Ash.

  “It will free everyone in the frozen field?” she asked. “Everyone
? Even someone sacrificed at the same time the spell is cast?”

  “Yes,” Khavi said.

  Hugh spoke. “Truth.”

  Ash looked at Nicholas, who was shaking his head.

  “No, Ash. We can’t risk—”

  “You saw them,” she said. “You saw all of them. Tell me again that I shouldn’t risk this.”

  He couldn’t. So he tried something else. “It would free a lot of demons, too.”

  “Who are trapped behind a Gate.” Ash’s gaze searched his, saw the denial there. “In five hundred years, you can kill Madelyn again.”

  He didn’t even smile. “That’s not—”

  “I know.” She caught his face between her hands. “I know that doesn’t matter. But the others trapped there do matter—those who are like Rachel. And it will hurt Lucifer. There is such high return on this risk . . . and we know Khavi speaks the truth. I’ll be freed again, too.”

  “But you’ll return to the field first. Only for a moment, perhaps—but that is an eternity too long. You tell me that it is worth the risk. You wouldn’t do it before.”

  “Maybe,” she said, and ran her fingers over his newly healed skin. “But I have another reason now. Revenge. You got Madelyn. Let me have Lucifer. It won’t kill him, but if it hurts him, I need to do it.”

  “I can’t watch you die,” he said hoarsely.

  Of course he couldn’t. Even though he was a Guardian, even though it would free so many, her life was still his limit.

  “I’ll come back. Believe me, Nicholas. I’ve been creating too many naked plots involving you to even think about dying now. But if you hold on to me through it, I’ll have reason to come back even faster.”

  “God.” He buried his face in her hair. Breathed deep, as if drawing her in. “You need me. I’ll be damned if I ever let you go. Believe that, Ash.”

  She did. If there were only two things that would never change, would never crumble or fade, she knew what they were.

  “I love you.” She kissed him. “And I do believe.”

  Taylor’s voice came from beside her, full of disbelief and something else. Hope? “So you’re actually doing this?”

  “Yes,” Ash said. “As soon as possible, before I feel differently.”

  “We’ll have to prepare,” Khavi said. “I’ll need to cut the proper symbols into your skin to cast the spell—and to draw you back to your body when it is done. And you’ll need to break a bargain first.”

  Simple enough. “Nicholas,” she said, and when he looked at her his eyes glowed so fiercely, Ash’s own eyes burned. “I need to make a new bargain with you.”

  “How can I?” he said hoarsely.

  “Because you love me. Because you’re strong. Because you’re a Guardian now. And because of all that, I’m not afraid to do this.”

  “You will rip my heart out.” He closed his eyes. “And I would tear it out myself for you. What will the bargain be?”

  Not his death sentence, as his tone suggested. Ash smiled up at him. “You will tell me that you love me, and I will not kiss you. Agreed?”

  “If it were true, I’d never say that I loved you again.”

  “I know. And since I need to hear it and to kiss you, I will gladly break this one. Are we agreed?”

  His lips parted. His throat worked. It was still another moment before he said, “We are agreed.”

  Bound in another bargain. She stared up at him, waiting for the fear, the delayed terror, the regret. She could change her mind, and he would instantly release her. He probably hoped she would now.

  But she couldn’t. “Nicholas?”

  His eyes blazed. He caught her face, stared into her eyes—and though he hadn’t said it yet, she felt the love blasting through his shields, filling her mind, wrapping around her as if to hold and protect.

  “I love you,” he said. “I will always love you.”

  Little wonder there was no fear in her. There couldn’t be, not in the face of this. Smiling, she pulled him down to her lips.

  And gladly damned herself with a familiar, perfect kiss.

  CHAPTER 21

  When she’d been a girl, Taylor had believed that, one day, someone would hold her like Nicholas St. Croix held his halfling demon at the edge of the frozen field. Someone would look at her with the same fierce love, that he would hold her through anything, even if it killed him. She’d wanted that for herself.

  She didn’t want that now. She just wanted to be free of Michael. Wanted to be free of the man who would prevent her from helping two people desperately in need. Wanted to be free of the screaming, the shattering, the darkness that never left.

  She wanted it more than anything. He’d pushed her past her limits.

  It was the only explanation she had, for how she ever lifted a knife, and plunged it through the symbols marking a good woman’s back.

  The woman and her man cried out together, and his tears ran as hot as her blood. Taylor staggered away from them, sank to her knees in red sand. They’d trusted her to do it. They’d asked her to be the one. Killing a demon—even a good one—wouldn’t break the Rules.

  But until now, Taylor would have said that it broke her rules.

  She’d had a choice. She could have said no. But she wanted freedom too much.

  The first crack appeared when the first drop of blood hit the sand. Taylor heard the drop, she heard the crack—though she’d never heard any sound from that frozen field. Louder than the rain of blood falling, louder than Nicholas chanting Ash’s name, begging her to come back now.

  Another crack, then more, thin lines spidering between the faces. Frozen lashes blinked. Screams began, loud now, from thawing throats.

  Far away, a large crowd of demons were scattering across the ice. She thought that if Nicholas had looked with his Gift, those demons would be trailing black ribbons of fear.

  But he wasn’t looking. He was staring into Ash’s eyes, searching desperately for new signs of life in a body that Taylor had killed.

  A fist punched through the ice from below, a fist that had never been frozen, only devoured again and again. And suddenly, that was the only sound—of the damned, breaking through, climbing out of their eternity of torture. Some wandered, dazed. Some grabbed the hands of others, helped lift them out. Others screamed and screamed, as if it were too late to feel anything different.

  Taylor wondered if she should tell them now that they weren’t free, not truly. Unless they went to the Pit, they were never leaving Hell. Unlike Ash, they didn’t have a body with symbols inscribed on it to bring her spirit back to the right place—they only possessed their spirit, and that could only take physical form in Hell. Unlike Michael, they didn’t have someone waiting at the edge of the frozen field, waiting to take his body out of her cache.

  So that she’d be free.

  Why weren’t any demons coming out of the field yet? Where were their faces? Despite the thousands, hundreds of thousands in the field, the only demons were those who’d been torturing Michael.

  All the demons gone. What would that mean for a demon halfling?

  Oh, God. Had Khavi lied? Had Ash agreed, not knowing that Khavi meant a twisted version of ‘free’?

  “Ash? Oh, God, you’re amazing. I love you.” Joy filled Nicholas’s voice, and quelled Taylor’s sudden panic. “Jake, get her to a healer, now!”

  Then the sound of his hard kiss against soft lips before they disappeared.

  Michael had kissed Taylor, too. That was how all of this had started. The strange insanity of it.

  Soon, she’d go back to normal.

  At the back of her mind, the darkness suddenly eased. Not so much hidden pain. A deep, feral joy. Michael, climbing free.

  Finally.

  From behind her, she heard the sharpness of Khavi’s indrawn breath. It must have been nice, watching everything that she’d worked for become true. No matter who it hurt, no matter who paid in blood and pain and the horrifying sacrifices they ended up making—


  “I did not see this coming,” Khavi said.

  An enormous, terrifying figure rose in the distance, amber scales glistening. Fire roared. Taylor heard the screams begin again, flying toward her, almost with wings of their own. Demons took to the sky, desperately trying to flee. A rush of fire caught them, sent them spinning, burning to the ground.

  “A dragon?” Instinctively, she drew back. No need to run, not yet. “Did it break through from Chaos?”

  “No.” Khavi’s gaze followed the dragon up, up. “That’s Michael.”

  Michael?

  The dragon dove, began banking toward them.

  “Taylor, teleport now.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me.”

  Taylor didn’t. She wouldn’t ever trust Khavi again, but as another roar of fire roasted a swath of fleeing demons in a path toward them, she saw Khavi’s point.

  She called upon the power of Michael’s Gift . . . and got nothing. It was there, in the back of her mind. She could feel it. She couldn’t use it. A tumble of emotions rioted through the space he used to occupy, but there was only one rising above all the others.

  Hunger.

  Oh, Jesus. Taylor stumbled back, searched for the Gift again and again. “He won’t let me go!”

  And was it just her, or was that dragon coming really fucking close?

  Khavi’s Gift rolled out. The dragon shrieked. Enormous wings folded against its back, and he dove.

  Straight toward her.

  “Khavi!”

  The woman grabbed Taylor’s hand—and they were standing in Caelum, watching Michael’s temple fall. Columns cracked. Marble walls buckled and collapsed, crashing together in a billowing plume of pale dust.

  Taylor pushed her hands into her hair, tried to push her brains back in. That had not just happened. Had it?

  And what now?

  One person would know the answer to that question. Taylor spun around to face Khavi. “You used your Gift. What did you see?”

  Mouth open in shock, Khavi shook her head. “I didn’t see anything in its future at all.”

  Oh, God. So, the oldest and most powerful Guardian, the man stuck in her brain, had become a hungry dragon . . . and they had no idea what was coming next.