When Spell Freezes Over (All My Exes Die From Hexes Book 4)

by Killian McRae

  “She’s not trying to accomplish anything,” Dee insisted. “This is Hades’s doing. He wants Hell back, and he’s going to use Persephone’s confused emotions and new-found ability to wield lightning to do it.”

  Even Jerry seemed to doubt that. “But Hades can’t even leave Olympus; how would he rule Hell, even if Persephone conquered it?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Dee asked Jerry. “If Steph renounces their divorce, the HHA will be null and void. Or, if she kills one of the Grigori, who are the rightful rulers of the realm, that will dissolve it as well. Chipper, do you know where the hellgate in the LA area is?”

  “It’s on Wilshire, behind the screen of an adult movie theater.” When all eyes focused on him, Jerry felt his defensiveness kick in. “Come on, I was a demon for two thousand years. Of course I would know that. It doesn’t imply anything.”

  “Actually, it implies everything,” Marc said. “Nephilim don’t use hellgates. One of the reasons the Fallen chose to move the capital city of the Underworld realm to Southern California when they assumed control was because in the ancient world, so few of the Nephilim were in North America. It certainly kept Zeus and Hades on the other side of the world. So how, then, would Persephone know that’s where she should go?”

  Dee shook his head. “Because like we already figured out, Hades is working with the Fallen. This has been their plan all along. And the sacrifices they supposedly made in order to...

  His face blanched as Dee’s hands threaded his hair. “No, it can’t be possible. No, no.”

  Jerry and Marc exchanged screwed up expressions, but the latter who actually asked Dee what he was on about.

  “Azazel,” Dee said, as though that answered everything. “The other night, I also figured out that Hades must have been part of the conspiracy as long as Michael had, which was around the time Carol died. But why would Hades need Azazel’s help?” He looked up, terror and sadness carving deep lines in his face, making him look more like the seventy-year-old he really was. “Azazel can transplant memories. Anwen’s not Carol. It was a trick. A God damned, dirty trick that cost my father his life. But I don’t get it, when would he have had the chance to feed Carol’s memories into Anwen?”

  “In the loo at the pub.”

  Their gazes swung to the stairs, where the lady in question stood wrapped in her bed robe. “Remember, I was cornered. I didn’t start having any memories of Dee until after that.”

  “Anwen.” Dee rushed to her, though Jerry caught the momentary hesitation when he reached her. “I love you. Don’t think this changes my feelings for you at all.”

  She put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. “Do you love me, Anwen Yates, or do you love me because you think I’m just Carol?”

  “I was attracted to you the moment I met you. You, not Carol. And when we made love the first time, I was making love to Anwen.”

  She stepped away. “Were you? I—me, Anwen—haven’t known you for long, but I have a feeling that since you lost Carol, you’ve been with her memory every time you’ve been with anyone. I do love you, Dee, but I don’t understand why, and that scares me. All I know is that if this was all a ploy to throw confusion at the Pure Souls, to help Hades take back Hell and the Grigori to tear down creation, then I want you to make them pay for that.”

  She rolled up on her toes and pressed a kiss against his lips. “Do what you need to do, Dio.” Her hand graced over her abdomen. “Make sure there’s a world for our son to grow up in and be proud of his father. Make sure there’s a world for my husband to come to know not only who I was, but who I am.”

  He beheld her newfound reverence. His eyes going wide, light shining through his smile. “Our son?”

  Again, Anwen kissed him. “Yes, our son.”

  A resolved, slightly pissed off Dee turned back to the Cerberus. “Chipper, I know your loyalties lie with my sister and Hades, but to whatever extent you’re able, stall.” His words took on a softer hue. “Riona’s mom died last night. She’s a warrior too; she’ll go into battle whatever the circumstances, but give her the rest of the night to rest. We’ll be on the first flight we can find tomorrow. I don’t know if we’ll get there before they cross the hellgate, but we’ll try.”

  “No need,” Jerry said. “We have Riona. She can transport us anywhere.”

  “For my part, I will do what I can to influence my pack,” Chipper assured. “It will be hard, though. It’s our natural inclination to fight for and regain the territory that was once ours to protect.”

  Marc stepped forward. “Then pledge your allegiance to me.”

  Chipper’s head went sideways, just like the confused dog he was. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  “Good question.” The priest grinned. “Marcello Angeletti: Lord of the Underworld, the devil incarnate, the ruler of hellfire. I am the Eastern Midnight Sun who burns the sins of the world.”

  “You are a verbose bastard,” Jerry added.

  “If your allegiance is to the Underworld, give it to me. Once the Grigori are defeated, and the Nephilim plot is overthrown, I’ll need muscle to enforce the changes I plan to make. I’d welcome you home to Hell as heroes, and you’d always have an honored place.”

  “To tell the truth, I kinda like it here in Boston.” Chipper almost looked embarrassed at the fact. “Dogs like snow. I know you wouldn’t think it, but...”

  Marc put up his hands. “No, I get it. Fine, you live here in Boston, but if I ever need help...”

  “Yeah, that’ll work. Only thing is, you’ve got to promise not to hurt Persephone. I know technically she’s no longer my master, since she and Hades are divorced. But she’s always treated us as equals. Hades just orders us around and kicks us in the gut when we don’t obey. If she’s being jacked around by his manipulation, she shouldn’t suffer for it.”

  Marc patted the Cerberus’s shoulder. “I swear, I’ll do what I can to protect her.”

  “Then yes.”

  Jerry and Dee, shocked by the sudden swing in allegiances, flanked Marc as Chipper took a knee and bowed his head.

  “I pledge the Cerberi to the devil’s command.” He looked back over his shoulder at the door. “Now how in the hell am I getting out of here? There’re three banger demons standing across the street.”

  “Three bangers?” Marc asked. “When we went out earlier it was just one gnosis demon.”

  “Well, that is the going conversion rate on brain power. Bangers got brute force, but not much going on upstairs.” Jerry put his hands in his pockets and gave Chipper a long, thorough once over. “They’d be looking for the man who came in to come back out, wouldn’t they?”

  Chipper nodded. “Um, yeah, that was kinda my point.”

  “But what they wouldn’t be looking for is a pet.”

  Picking up on the suggestion, Chipper laughed. “I don’t know if you’ve actually seen a Cerberus in dog form, but we don’t exactly resemble terriers, what with having-three-heads and all.”

  “Like you said... bangers.” Jerry punctuated the word by smashing a fist into his other hand. “And we’re Pure Souls, demigods, and half-angels hulled up in here. They’ll think we just adopted a stray from a renegade witch vet.”

  “Witch vet?” Anwen repeated, tiny lines forming across her forehead. “What is a witch vet?”

  “A total invention. But they won’t get it. Back in my demon days, we’d keep off-duty bangers busy by challenging them to see who could run head-first into a door the fastest, to see who took the longest to wake up from being knocked out.”

  “But they’re dead, Jerry,” Marc said. “They couldn’t get knocked out.”

  “That’s how stupid they were. They did.”

  Chapter 18

  “Where have you been?”

  If Azazel expected that Michael would answer him, he was sorely mistaken. The prince of the heavenly realm was not accountable to a mid-level fallen Grigori, even if that prince was also now faltered. When the latter understood as much, he groane
d and focused back on the clay pot at the edge of the fire.

  “Old friend of yours.” Azazel jerked his head, indicating the boiling soul.

  “More than a friend. For a human, Molly was amazingly... acceptable.”

  “Really? I recall my visits with her being full of vitriol and four-lettered words. It wasn’t easy, you know. Erasing details of your affair from her memories. She clung to them. Even as she grew to despise what you had used her to accomplish. I had to julienne her thoughts with the finest of my skills to remove your identity. Even then, traces remained. I had to keep going back to her every few years, doing maintenance.”

  “And yet, you couldn’t prevent her binding my daughter’s power.” Accusation filled Michael’s words. “Lucky for me, Lucifer found a way to unbind her magic, else none of this would have come to pass.”

  Azazel snorted a chuckle. “Lucifer didn’t do a damn thing. It was Jerry who loosened her restrictions.”

  The fallen prince bristled. “Impressive.”

  “He was the one intended to usurp him. I allowed Jerry to learn everything that could be taught. Let him learn every bit of knowledge that could be gleaned from our scrolls. His knowledge rivals are own.”

  Michael confusedly fell back against a support beam that stood on the edges of the observation deck overlooking the cooking fields. “Maybe I should ask Jerry how it was that Marc was able to avoid a direct command, then. You ordered him to give you the heavenly blade so that we could still offer Lucifer up as the sacrifice to scuttle the accords. Somehow, he resisted you.”

  “Actually, I’ve figured it out. Didn’t you notice how weak Lucy was in those last few moments? Lucifer sent out her magic to Marc before she died. She must have known that Marc was progeny, a half-angel who could retain the powers of another, who could assume his position without causing harm to the accords. That extra magic allowed him just enough power to act against your will. Too bad for Marc that power died with its master.”

  Michael chuckled. “Seems to me, then, that we are in an even better position than we anticipated. We cannot force Marc to pass the dagger to us and have it retain its power, but you can still command him to use it on whomever you wish. If only you still had such control over your other son, we wouldn’t even need Marc.”

  A series of pops shot out as Azazel pressed his knuckles into the palm of the other hand. “I don’t need a magical control over Marc to make him do my bidding. I just need a knife to the throat of the one you call daughter.”

  Chapter 19

  “Tell me again what Chipper said.”

  When Jerry had first explained to her the declarations their guest had made the night before, he wasn’t quite sure if she believed him, or that she thought the Ambien still had control of her brain. It was only when Dee, Marc, and Anwen backed up the story that she lent it any credulity.

  Jerry sighed but indulged his wife. “Persephone plans to invade Hell tonight, and she’s gone to Los Angeles to do it.”

  She picked up the wild tail from there, repeating back details to verify her understanding. “Because the capital city of Hell is there in the Underworld, and that’s where the Grigori live. She’s going to attempt to take control back of Hell, which... wait, remind me why that would be useful for her. Especially since I’ve never heard her express any particular fondness for it.”

  “It’s not about the place, it’s about the power,” Marc said. “Whoever rules Hell has control over hellfire. Her path to regaining that power for the Nephilim is through the Fallen.”

  “Plus, she’s no idiot. She probably put in a fake request for a sunset service, figuring someone would show up,” Ramiel added. He’d learned of the weredog’s visit the same time as Riona, but unlike her, had immediately understood the implications. “When no archangel came, she probably figured she’d have to provoke them into action. She doesn’t know what we do: that Larius has decided not to get off his ass and do anything about it.”

  “So she was going to murder Lucifer and she thought that would be enough to claim Hell as hers?” Riona’s forehead scrunched up.

  Dee shook his head. “I don’t think she’s thinking rationally right now. The Steph I know would never go after all the archangels like this. But Hades is manipulating her grief so much right now, she’s not pausing to think why this plan won’t work. She’s focused on revenge.”

  Jerry pushed fingertips into his forehead. “She probably figured on Lucifer being the key to getting back the power over fire. Once she had that, she could cut off the flow of energy to Heaven. Eventually, the archangels would have to emerge from hiding; otherwise, they’d starve.”

  Suddenly, Riona gasped and pinched the bridge of her nose. Jerry knelt down beside her, putting a hand on her knee.

  “You have to stop doing that,” he said.

  “Doing what?” Ramiel asked.

  “Trying to remember,” Riona herself answered, opening her watery eyes. “I was trying to think if I noticed anything while I was in Hell that would help us. Every time I try, I get a shot of pain through my head.”

  Jerry suddenly found himself looking at his wife with a great deal of apprehension. “What exactly do you remember about that night?”

  Her eyes went wide, looking back into her memories. “Persephone and Hades started making out at the dinner table. And by making out, I mean basically screwing. The next thing I knew, I was in Hell, looking at Marc. I remember telling him that I would give him the blade, but I don’t remember much beyond that.”

  The ex-demon turned to the priest. “Is that the way it really went down?”

  “What are you implying, Romani?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think I was implying something? Maybe I’m not being clear.”

  In three steps, Jerry had crossed the room and taken Marc by the lapels, pushing him forcefully into the wall.

  “Let me be blunt. You and I have our father’s ability to manipulate memory. Given that, funny that Riona’s having problems remembering things, huh? There’s only four beings in this universe that can jack someone’s recollections that way, and one of them is currently locked up in the heavenly realm behind pearly gates. That just leaves you, me, and Daddy dearest.”

  “She came to Hell, she gave me the blade and asked me to kill Lucifer, and she left,” Marc confirmed. “Just FYI: I’d make it a point to trust what your wife says. I found that she’s usually worthy of it.”

  Jerry cocked back his fist like he was about to let loose years of pent-up anger. Only, Dee managed to wedge between them before it came to that.

  “Someday I will gladly take the two of you to my gym, give you both a pair of gloves, and let you beat the living shit out of each other. Assuming you both live through this, of course. For the moment, can we please focus?” He managed to elbow Jerry and create some distance, letting Marc down on his feet again. “Jerry’s right though. I don’t get why we’re trusting anything Marc says. Why in the hell did you come here anyways?”

  Marc gave his former best friend a are you really that clueless stare. “Because I’m the devil, but Azazel is still my master. By proxy, he’s the one in charge of hellfire. My only hope to get out of this is for Jerry to teach me what I need to know to defeat him, and for the rest of you to help me do it. Besides, assuming we all get through this, wouldn’t the Pure Souls have a much better time fighting evil in the future if the devil is an ally?”

  Riona, who had sat quietly for a few minutes, finally balked. “I didn’t have the luxury of going to seminary, but twelve years of Catholic school did teach me that the devil is evil. Hell is the source of all evil.”

  “As long as there is free will, men are the source of all evil. All Hell does is take the sin brought by souls sent there and burn it into something positive. Don’t you get it? I don’t have to be the same kind of Satan as Lucifer. I can change the way things work down there. But only if I am truly its ruler.”

  “And you’ll never use your awesome powers to come after Riona,
huh?” Jerry heckled. “Right, like I can believe that. Maybe your being damned wasn’t such a tragedy after all. Maybe it was your destiny.”

  Marc looked at Jerry. “Was it yours? What great offense dragged you down to the pits, Romani? Murder? Rape? Eating dairy and meat together? No, it was a lust for knowledge so intense, you sacrificed your sanctity to get it. And yet for that so-called sin, you were forced to do the bidding of the Grigori for two thousand years? This, the punishment laid down by those who preceded us. Who are the evil ones? Men who break such inane laws, or the ones who decided it was a sin?”

  He swallowed, pulling the heavenly blade from whatever mystic hilt hid it. “All this coming together, and this in my hands? Fuck yes, it’s destiny. Time to shake up the status quo. Pure Souls have fought and died for centuries, but maybe they’ve been fighting under false pretenses. Demons aren’t evil. Demons are pawns of evil angels. Pure Souls have been no better, meting out the will of a growingly indifferent Council of Seven. Why are we turning on ourselves and fighting proxy wars for creatures too old and removed from this world to give a damn? Fuck this, and fuck them. Let’s seize Hell, fortify Heaven’s borders, save the Nephilim and end this once and for all. The only good versus evil war we have to fight is the one within ourselves.”

  A momentary silence was broken by Dee’s shout of exclamation. When the others tossed confused glares in his direction, he defended himself.

  “What? He’s right. I mean, the HHA is going to break anyways, right? The second someone invades one of the other realms and kills, the HHA is null and void.”

  “Wait a minute,” Riona said, “I thought we wanted to keep the HHA in place. I thought all this talk about going to Hell and heading off the Nephilim was to keep the borders between realms intact and make sure the Grigori and my dad fail to get back to Heaven.”

  Dee nodded. “It was, but Marc’s right. The HHA is going to falter tonight one way or another. We might as well make sure it does so on our terms, so that we can play a role in reshaping it.”