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

by Killian McRae

  Was it possible Big Boss was shielding the truth from their eyes? Had He finally decided to get involved in this?

  About fucking time.

  Ramiel followed undetected, jumping or porting as needed from rooftop to rooftop, cloaking himself in invisibility to keep the fallen souls who dwelt in row after row of ten-story apartment blocks from noticing him. That mostly worked, though the occasional intuitive soul still swiveled their head, as though they’d caught some movement from the corner of his eye. When they reached the edge of the city, he watched as the impromptu forest began to sway and shake, the Nephilim emerging one-by-one, their selected weapons at the ready. Persephone came last, emerging in armor he would have bet a good amount of dinars had once belonged to Athena. The silver-plated busty chest piece couldn’t really contain someone of Steph’s curvaceous endowments, however. Her breasts, pressed hard to the confines of the metal afforded him a good view from where he waited in the tree. Braced on her left arm, a golden shield caught the low-level orange radiance in the sky above, and sparkled despite the dim. In her right hand, she held her lightning, bent at her will into a rod that crackled and hissed.

  Michael took the lead. “Queen Persephone.” He managed a slight bow, his arms spread wide. “My condolences for your loss, and my wishes that your rule endure in strength, truth, and justice.”

  For her part, Persephone kept to her battle stance. “Prince, or is that title no longer afforded you? So cunning a plot as you have perpetrated, it would not surprise me to learn that you had managed to retain your throne as well in the process of your betrayal.”

  Ramiel marveled at how she took on the persona her new title and position demanded. God, she was one hell of a woman. Hades so did not deserve her.

  Michael’s face warped, a smile as evil as it was wide covering his face. “Why should I perform any better than you at such a feat?”

  Her teeth ground, her fists clenched, but she managed to keep her tone flat. “And prithee, why are the Pure Souls under your hold?”

  “Because, my queen, I want to offer to you an alternative to destroying us, the Fallen, those who protected you and once tried to save your people. Your qualm is not with us, you’re after the Council. My daughter can help you get to them.”

  Marc poked at Riona’s back. Not enough to breach the skin, but just enough to draw a yelp. Ramiel winced, tempted to reveal himself, but held back until he saw no other way.

  The queen’s brow lifted. “Really? Riona? And just how?”

  Marc’s mouth was at her ear. “Tell her.”

  “No.”

  “Tell her.” This time, he slapped at Riona’s arm.

  “Ouch, fine.” The Keystone squared herself before the queen of the Nephilim. “I can open the gates of heaven. Apparently.”

  “Holy shit.” Persephone’s olive skin blanched as she slipped back in to her common vernacular. “I feel like Dorothy when she found out those damn magic shoes could’ve gotten her home the whole time. You mean, all I needed to get to them was you?”

  “Not exactly.” It was Azazel who provided the answer, and the smugness. “You’ll still need the power of hellfire to be strong enough to slay them all. Even here, you are truly no match for us. Even with your hundreds of Nephilim, our band of five Fallen could rip off your heads and throw your bodies in the fires quicker than you could say ‘meatless moussaka.’”

  The queen rolled her eyes. “A Greek food joke. How original. Fine, then, oh great Grigori... and the one formerly known as Prince. What are you proposing?”

  “An alliance,” Michael said, resuming control. “Break the HHAs, and the rules about who controls hellfire will waiver. We all have it running through us. If we consolidate our power into one of us, and that token angel pledges fealty to you, that should give you command over Hell.”

  She gave them an assessing but agreeable bob of her head. “Sounds great for me, sucky for you. What’s the upside?”

  “When Riona opens the gates, use the combined power of our hellfire and your lightning to destroy the Council of Seven. Then, release us from our fealty bond and let Riona seal off Heaven for good. We want nothing more to do with these temporal worlds.”

  “So that’s it?” Persephone spluttered. “This whole thing has been a conspiracy just so you all can kick back and pretend like we don’t exist?”

  Michael’s jaw worked under his scowling features. “The Nephilim have spent thousands of years wishing we didn’t. After this, it will be as though we don’t.”

  Persephone narrowed her eyes on the angel. “But you still need me to kill to break the HHA.”

  “Why don’t one of you,” Jerry jerked his head backwards at the angels behind him, “kill one of them instead? There’re hundreds of them. Sure the world can go on with one less Nephilim.”

  Azazel walked to his elder son, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Now you know why I spawned a second child. You know how I’ve always taught you, always have a backup plan? Lucifer was our first intention. Marc was our insurance policy.”

  Jerry’s face screwed up in confusion. “But he’s a demon now. He can’t serve as an angel sacri— oh.” He turned to his wife. “I guess we know now why Azazel enabled my being resurrected.”

  “Sadly, yes,” Azazel confirmed. “The moment we learned that Marc sacrificed himself to save Riona, I knew I had to get you back into a human body as quickly as I could. You’d already done the dirty work in getting your demon body destroyed. All I had to do was get your soul reincarnated. And conveniently enough, Marc’s body was available for possession.”

  “And who exactly had that kind of power?” Dee asked. “Outside of Big Boss, only someone in control of heavenlight would be able to pull off that kind of miracle.”

  “The Nephilim were right about one thing,” Azazel said. “The Council have hungered for Zeus’ death for eons. Larius was willing to agree to a one-time exchange, if we could arrange that. Hades, of course, was only too happy to assist in the effort.”

  “So Hades was behind convincing my dad to go into the sunset?” Persephone asked. With a face white as a lily, she focused on Dee. “You tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen. That bastard, I’m going to kill him.”

  “First,” Azazel pushed his elder son forward. “Kill this one. Our offer stands. Hades only wants to resume his place as king, and when the realms merge, that will mean usurping your throne as queen. With the power of hellfire, you can kill him too, and deny him his last and greatest desire.”

  “And Jerry Romani? He’s the token sacrifice that’s going to end the HHA?”

  Michael shrugged in response to her incredulity. “Your only other choice is to attempt to defeat us, but keep in mind that two dozen archangels once managed to kill thousands of Nephilim in the span of a few hours. True that there are only five of us here, but do you really think the odds for your people are so great? If so, come.”

  Persephone mulled over the statement, pacing in place. She looked back to her people, and for a moment Ramiel wondered why she wasn’t speaking with them. Then he recalled that the Nephilim didn’t require voices to communicate. They were doing it all inside their heads. After a moment, she turned back to the enemy.

  Her words were directed not at the Fallen but at Riona. “I’m truly sorry for this. I’ve considered you my friend and I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “Really?” Riona asked. “Because that one time you were about to put me on trial on Olympus kinda made me think otherwise.”

  As Persephone launched into a diatribe, ranting at volumes that would have shaken the Richter scale, Dee used the distraction to get closer to Riona.

  Speaking in barely more than a whisper, he said, “She wants you to know she never would have hurt you. You showed her up in front of her people. She had to do something.”

  “Your sister can speak for herself, Dee.”

  Dee tapped two fingers to his forehead. “She is.” He winked at her.

  Just at that moment, the q
ueen ended her bitchfest with a huffy, “Fine, let’s do this!”

  Persephone’s bolt swung from vertical to horizontal, ready to fly. It took no thought at all for Ramiel to move from the shadows and put himself before Jerry’s body.

  Persephone broke from her stance, the lightning on her hand dissipating. “What are you doing?”

  “You need a sacrifice? Fine, kill me. The only thing that ever made me truly feel alive was when you were in my arms. I have nothing more to live for, and this way my death will have meaning.” Ramiel took his blade and threw it to the ground. “Here, use this if you think your lightning is too prosaic. If you want to see the blood that beats through this heart, use my own weapon to cleave it from my chest.”

  The queen kicked the ground, sending clouds of dust. “What are you doing? You think this is going to inspire some outpouring of love from me?”

  Ramiel sneered. “What makes you think this has anything to do with you? I told you I would do my duty. The fact that it will torture you for eons when you remember how much you loved me, knowing that you killed me? Just a bonus.”

  Persephone bit so hard, he was surprised she didn’t break her teeth. “Don’t do this to me.”

  He held his hands out wide. “Oh, I’m doing it baby. I’m doing it good.”

  “Look, bozo, I’m the queen, now. No one tells me what sacrifices I need to make. You say we need to break the HHA to make this happen, Michael? Fine!” She held her arms out wide and turned her face to the sky. “Let all within the sound of my voice witness. I, Persephone, daughter of Zeus and ruler of the Nephilim, do hereby revoke my decree of divorce from Hades. Let no angel put asunder what the gods have made one.”

  Everything that happened next seemed to happen at once. The ground shook and the sky lit aflame. Ramiel flew to Persephone, lifting her just as the earth beneath her feet opened. The assembled Nephilim turned, descending upon the Fallen. Swords swung, arrows flew. Dee took advantage of the confusion. He dove, seizing Ramiel’s discarded heavenly blade before either could seize it.

  “Riona!” He turned the blade’s hilt out, and tossed it in her direction. “Catch!”

  She’d never been particularly good at sports, but at the end of the world miraculous things could happen. She caught it without a problem. That, however, didn’t change the fact that when she turned to Marc, he still had her father’s blade as well. She could see the warring factions of his soul play across his face.

  “Marc, you know you don’t want to do this. Please, Marc.”

  Azazel threw back his head and wailed, even as he tossed away the onslaught of Nephilim charging for him like flies. “It doesn’t matter what he wants,” he boasted. “I am his master, and he will do as I command. And since the HHAs are dead and Jerry’s no longer necessary... Marc, kill Jerry.”

  Riona swiveled, following Marc as he charged, the dagger held high overhead. In the nick of time, she managed to come between them.

  The blade caused no pain when it entered her body. Azazel’s yelp drowned up the clatter of weapons and thuds of bodies around her. Riona felt herself overcome in gentle tranquility as the world around her went dark.

  Chapter 24

  Her eyes opened, but the scene brought no clarity.

  Every inch of her body ached, like she’d fallen out of a tree and landed hard on the ground. As she looked around, trying to figure out exactly where she was, Riona’s insides began to squirm. No, there was no way. There was no way that everything she remembered happening over the last few months had all been a figment of her imagination.

  She sat up and scooted until her back hit the wall. There were lights overhead, but far too up for her to reach. No controls in the room either. The walls lay behind thick pads meant to keep her from damaging herself. At least they’d taken off the straitjacket, so she must’ve been earning some credit before whatever had landed her in the holding cell in the mental ward happened.

  There was no Marc or Dee. There was probably a Jerry, but he wasn’t a demon. Just some creep who tried to kill her. She always fell for the bad guys. Of course her addled, mentally unstable mind had cast him as a demon. She wasn’t the child of a fallen prince of Heaven, a gifted witch, or a married woman. The lack of a ring on her finger confirmed that last one. When she tried to summon the slightest bit of magic, and found herself impotent, she knew that everything else was as much a part of her imagination as Santa Claus.

  On the far end of the room, a crack in the wall widened. A door, she realized. In strode a doctor with a clipboard who looked at her with the smile of one pitying a child.

  “Well, Riona, looks like you’ve gotten a nasty turn.”

  Her eyes focused, and she wondered if they were trustworthy.

  “Ditter?”

  Warmness filled his gaze. He took a seat in a chair she could’ve sworn a moment ago wasn’t there. He gave her a brief nod of his head and reached out a hand, pulling her up. When Riona was again on her feet he motioned to the chair next to him that appeared between blinks.

  Oh, that’s right. She was a loony.

  “You’re not crazy, Riona. Just confused. I imagine anyone in your position would be. I’m sure you must have many questions. Luckily I have many answers. But I must warn you, I don’t answer everything that’s asked. It’s sort of my trademark.”

  “Is Jerry okay?” She asked the question before realizing the truth: there was no Jerry.

  “That depends on what your meaning of is is,” Ditter answered with a grin. “I’ve always found that line fascinating. I’ve been waiting for decades to have an opportunity to use it.”

  Hope sprang a new within her breast. “Jerry is real? I have to go to him. He’s in danger. I have to save him.”

  “You will, my dear. But there is no rush. I have stopped time, and it will not start again until I deem it so.”

  Oh, Ditter was crazy too. Fine, she’d play along. “Oh, you have, have you?”

  “Yes, but that’s not really the important thing. The important thing is why.”

  “I can only assume because the remote control on your DVD player is broken, and that’s the only way to save your spot in the latest episode of Orange is the New Black.”

  Ditter threw back his head and chuckled. “You always were funny. Sometimes a little too sarcastic for my taste, but funny. And no, while I do love that show, that’s not it. I need to correct an unfortunate imbalance. It’s been impossible before now. The HHA was ratified with power I delegated. I too, was obligated to uphold its limitations until such a time as it was broken. Now that that’s been done, I can finally give you this.”

  He reached behind him, to where there was nothing but air. But then a quick shimmer, and where there had been nothing, there was now a very particular something in his grip.

  Ditter presented her the impressive black metal blade by offering out its ornately carved hilt. The moment she felt the cool metal hit the inside of her palm, the energy that shot up her arm was almost enough to render her unconscious. It both burned and froze simultaneously. She’d never known weapons intimately, and yet, this one felt like an old friend. The way its hilt fit against her palm made it feel like she had been fitted for it. If she weren’t already locked up, she’d think herself crazy for the sense of confidence it gave her.

  “It reforms itself to fit its current master. You probably wouldn’t expect it from me, but I will admit that sometimes I can be... shortsighted. But I’m also very committed to correcting those situations.”

  Riona still didn’t understand the intentions. “Why are you giving this to me? What, should I kill myself with it?”

  “No,” Ditter laughed, his cheeks turning red. “That would be a huge waste of a very powerful weapon. It’s not unlike the heavenly blades, but has a very different purpose. It’s intended to balance the angels above and below. The devil needs a weapon to defend those I’ve placed under his aegis, including the fallen angels who might otherwise threaten his sovereignty. He will have enemies as we
ll, and his first duty will be chasing down those who threaten his rule. There ae hundreds of realms in addition to those overlaid on Earth, and they’ll try to hide in them. He needs a weapon that will be as powerful in the different realms as it is in Hell.”

  “Different realms?” The thought tugged at a memory that was just out of grasp. “The realms... They’re merging.”

  “They are. I know all eras come to an end, but the way this one is going down is rather unfortunate. Not of my doing this time, you see. Nonetheless, we will make the best of it.”

  Riona strived to understand her current circumstances. “Wait a minute. Ditter? If this weapon is for Marc, why give it to me?”

  He petted the backside of her hand. “Usually you’re so quick to put these things together. Be wary, Riona. You made a vow to Azazel. Before he is cut down, you must first fulfill it. Otherwise, your own rule will be very short indeed.”

  “My rule?” She looked at her feet as though the answer dangled from her toes. “I was hit with a heavenly blade. I think that means I’m dead.”

  “Not so much dead, as about to die. But that’s one of the other things I’m known for, changing the rules on life and death.”

  Suddenly, it clicked in her brain. Ditter was Big Boss?

  “You mean like you did with Jesus?”

  “Oh, you silly Christians.” He hooted. “You always think everything comes back to Jesus.”

  Ditter stood and pulled Riona up. She looked back over her shoulders to find that the chairs had disappeared just as mysteriously as they’d shown up. With a swish of his arm through the air, the padded cell likewise vanished. She found herself standing among stars... Millions and millions of them. If she took a step or lost her footing, she’d fall forever. And yet, she felt as if she was on the most solid foundation her feet had ever stood upon.

  “But you’re mortal, and even I cannot delay your death forever. I will save you but this once.”

  “Like with Jesus.”

  “Get over it, Riona.”

  With another swish of his arms, Riona found herself on the battlefield once more. Only, as she looked at it closer, she saw herself still amid the confusion. Blood oozed from the wound in her abdomen. Jerry’s face contorted, frozen in a scream. To her surprise, when she looked at Marc’s face, she found three tears frozen on his cheek.