by J. C. Nelson
Your average poodle, even a hellfire-driven, bloodthirsty monster one, isn’t six feet high and seven hundred pounds. Worse yet, from the gaping maw in the pitcher’s mound, five more emerged. With a howl, Mikey bounded after them, tearing into one, then slamming it into another.
The one that hit me squealed as something took a bite out of it, severing a tendon. It snapped at the air, snarling and chasing nothing until it crashed into the ground, shaking. I glanced over at Ari and found her inches from the poodle-saur. Trying to charm it? No. She held up the bat, screaming at it. “Who wants the stick? You want the stick? Go get it.”
She hurled it in an arc, pushing it with a bolt of magic so that it sailed over the field, clattering to the ground a few inches from home plate.
Beth stopped humming for an instant. And the poodles converged on her, a storm of white fur and hellfire. I watched my life pass before my eyes twice as the thing loped over me, swallowed the bat, then turned to come after me.
Mikey sprinted past me, a ball of fur and blood, as he leaped on another midsize monster and sank his teeth into its spine.
I ran.
I’m no coward. It’s just that facing that thing wasn’t going to happen. My best weapon had bullets that were more like flies to it. Ari’s heaviest chain lightning only left a singed spot at the end of its nose. I sprinted for the outfield wall, knowing that in three bounds it could cover the distance.
My lungs burned from exertion. My arms shook, but I sprinted as if what was left of my life depended on it. Only when I reached Ari did I glance behind. Something the size of a small truck clung to the poodle-saur’s hind leg. Yeller.
Ari’s hellhound stood full size, three feet taller than the little ones Mikey fought, but looking like a toy Pomeranian attacking a Great Dane. As the poodle-saur spun, gnashing its teeth, huge slashes opened up on its sides as my harakathin attacked it.
With a crunch, the poodle-saur locked its jaws on Yeller and whipped him from side to side, throwing him off like a rat. Ari let out a soft scream. A cry of pain, shock, and sorrow.
The sky began to boil.
Oh, I’d seen her do magic before. Seen her toss a lightning bolt from time to time. This time, clouds boiled in the sky like a time-lapse video. The doorman had called her “Princess of Clouds.” I had a feeling why.
The poodle-saur focused on us, as Ari drew in magic in a way that made the air whistle around her. As if she’d become a storm herself.
It walked toward us, growling in a way that should have felt threatening, if it weren’t for the fact that my best friend currently looked like a tesla coil.
“Over here.” I screamed at the poodle-saur, leading it off to the side. “Ari, anytime now.”
She didn’t answer, continuing the spell, as the sky began to hail, first pea sized, then ice the size of cantaloupes. Time. All she needed was time to finish the spell.
So I ran right at it.
Straight for the poodle-saur, sprinting toward it.
It slammed its feet down, trying to adjust, and I slid, feet first, under it. You know those movies where the heroine does some midair move, shooting the bad guy several times in flight? This was exactly nothing like that.
I rolled onto my stomach as the hell beast turned to look at me, so close the stench of its breath washed over me.
The lightning struck it, raining down from the sky onto Ari, reflecting from her into it. The sheer voltage made my muscles convulse as the sizzling of monster flesh filled the air with a smell like a barbecue cook-off in Inferno.
The poodle-saur collapsed, falling halfway into the pit it emerged from. Smoke rose from a dozen cracks in it.
I managed to stagger onto my feet, my hair sticking out like I’d stuck my finger in a light socket. Ari knelt by the outfield wall, and I jogged toward her.
“Can you heal him? Or take him to the vet?” I put one hand on her shoulder.
Her tears answered well enough.
I wanted to comfort her. Really, I did, but right then, it occurred to me that I was missing a wolf, a piper, and at least a thousand little hell spawn. I looked to home plate, expecting to see a crowd of poodles fighting over who got Beth’s ears.
The poodles were gone.
So was Beth.
Leaving Ari on the field, I ran across the field fast enough to score a grand slam, then dashed through the stands, and outside. My mercenary teams lay scattered across the parking lot. Dead. On second thought, asleep. All of them. I looked north, where Beth should have been sending all of them for a nice, long swim. The water’s edge lapped peacefully.
“She’s gone.”
I shot Mikey twice before I even realized it was him. He’d changed back to his normal self. Or maybe his abnormal self. I wasn’t really clear on which was which.
He waited until his body pushed out the bullets. “Really need to see that gunsmith.”
“Where?”
“I’m not telling you, Marissa. She’ll take good care of them. Control them. Train them.” Mikey put a hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. I wasn’t terribly comforted.
“That’s not how we do this. She leads them off into the water, everyone gets to live another year.” Grimm. I could call Grimm, have him find Beth, and send in a flamethrower team to mop up.
“Grimm?” I looked around, finding a stainless steel railing. “I need you to find Beth. She ran off with more poodles than all of Paris.”
Grimm appeared, his brow creased. “You have worse problems, Marissa. The harbingers took the wrong bridge and encountered an extremely grumpy troll, but they will arrive at any moment. Also—”
“Handmaiden.” I recognized the stench of sulfur without looking behind me.
“Malodin. I gave you your third plague. Poodles.”
“Marissa, this guy bothering you? Want me to kill him?” Mikey gave Malodin the same smile Mikey gave a hot dog.
“Down, boy.” Malodin strode toward me, a look of rage on his face. “You cannot kill me on this plane. Destroy this form, my essence simply leaks away and reforms more determined. More angry.”
“He’s telling the truth for once.” Grimm spoke softly, trying to calm Mikey. “You cannot kill a demon without containing them.”
“I see no pools of blood, I hear no screams of terror. Where is my plague?” Malodin stopped in front of me, resembling a praying mantis in a bowler hat.
“Yeah, about the poodles. They’re gone. I summoned them using the plague sand. Unfortunately, they don’t build poodles the way they used to.” I took the plague sand from my purse and offered it to him.
“Handmaiden, you cannot mock me. The harbingers have arrived. It is time for them to destroy the city, and you to unleash my forces upon your world.” Malodin raised a claw, pointing off toward the parking lot.
There, four figures on bicycles raced toward us. I ran down the stairs and out the ticket gates to meet them.
Death looked like always, an elderly Chinese man with legs like a draft horse. War had reverted to his African skin. Pestilence looked like the image of health, having stripped his shirt off. He glistened like some male stripper.
It was Famine that shocked me. He looked like the clerk at the local convenience store more than anything. He pulled up, hopped off, and gave War a high five. “Sorry I’m late. I was getting a really great workout, so we took an extra lap around the city.”
“It is time.” Malodin practically shrieked as he approached the harbingers. “Destroy the city.”
“I think not.” I walked a few steps forward to stand even with Malodin. “Contract says that your destruction ends with the third plague. The third plague ended a few minutes ago. I don’t think you are allowed to do anything without another third plague. Which would be a fourth plague, and I’m not agreeing to it.”
The harbingers conferred, whispering among themselves, while Malodin crackled and creaked with rage.
War stepped forward. “You sent us across the country. Made us ride back. And we do
n’t even get to kill anyone?”
“Sorry.” I hope my tone sounded sufficiently insincere.
“This doesn’t change anything, Marissa.” Death shook his head. “You still have to call down the apocalypse. It means a lot more people die by demons instead.”
Malodin turned toward me. “Yes. I demand it. You have robbed me of my plagues, but your world is mine.”
“Fine. I’ll complete my contract, but not here. We finish this deal where we started it.”
“I’ll see you at midnight.” Malodin erupted into flame, burning away.
I looked at the harbingers. “How do I send you back?”
War shook his head. “I’m sticking around. I’d like to see how this turns out.”
“I’m taking a few more laps,” said Famine, getting back on his bike.
“Marissa, do you remember what I told you about hate?” Death looked at me with crinkled eyes.
I nodded. “Pins you down. You saying I need to start building up some hate so I can haunt Malodin?”
Death shook his head. “No. You haven’t changed anything. But you might.” Then he faded out, leaving a perfectly good bicycle.
“You want me to ride that back?” Mikey approached it.
“No. Help Ari with Yeller’s body. I’m sure she’ll want to bury it.” When he’d gone, I sat down on the steps, pulled out my compact, and made a call.
“Grimm?”
He nodded to me. “Well done. Our gambit has paid off. But I question your decision to return to the dealing room. Would you care to enlighten me?”
I hunted down my purse, feeling the bulk of the vial I’d gotten from the angels. “You and Larry study that contract. Find out what happens if I kill Malodin for good.”
Thirty-Seven
I WALKED IN the door of my apartment and nearly collapsed. I’d helped Ari bury Yeller in the front yard, violating at least a dozen city codes and standards. I’d dropped off the bag of plague sand at the Agency, where Grimm had it sealed safely in our armament vault. On the way home, I kept wondering what it was I’d forgotten. Having the end of the world on your mind can do that.
“Marissa?” Liam stood in our kitchen, a half-eaten sandwich on the bar.
I sprinted for him. Nearly tackled him. Wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in him, soaking in his warmth. I won’t tell you I didn’t cry. It was like missing a piece of myself, and then finding it.
After he’d held me.
After I’d kissed him over and over, so frantic at times it felt like fever, after we’d found our way to the bedroom. After the frantic rush and eagerness, and the impatience, I began to settle. With his arms around me, rough and hairy, and his warmth radiating into my back, I finally found words.
“I’m sorry.”
He shushed me. “It will be okay.”
“No. Tonight I have to end the world.” I sat up, not bothering to pull the sheet over me.
“Shopping trip with Ari?” Liam almost sounded amused.
I explained. About the deal. About Ari, and Grimm. About the demons, and the plagues, and wishes, and poodles.
“Being separated for two weeks wasn’t supposed to be the end of the world.” Liam put his head beside mine, whispering into my ear.
I rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen. “Let me get your sandwich. We can talk while you eat.”
Thing was, the sandwich wasn’t on the counter. I looked around, trying to figure out where it had gone.
“It is in the refrigerator. I did not want it to spoil,” said a woman’s voice. I nearly screamed, then spotted the bombshell blonde on my couch, in a tennis outfit.
Liam came out, a towel wrapped around him. “M, this is Svetlana. She came back to talk with Grimm about my contract.”
“Was she here when I walked in?” Part of me screamed that I was stark naked with a strange woman in the house. The other part of me didn’t care about the naked, but was carefully calculating a plan of attack on said strange woman.
Liam held his palms out. “Yes. You didn’t give me any time to introduce her.”
So she’d been sitting on my couch, listening the whole time. “I don’t have clothes.”
“Take my towel.” Liam started to unwind, and I fixed him with a stare.
“In the bedroom. Now.” I followed him in, scrambling to find my bra and panties. “What is she doing here?”
“I think we got attacked. Three, four times. Maybe more. They burned down the whole place, nearly made it to the coffin-atorium. So Grimm’s contract says I own pretty much everything. And trust me, we don’t really want it. The heating bill alone has to be atrocious, there’s not a grocery store for fifty miles, and it’s dark at three o’clock. So Grimm’s going to negotiate a deal. You don’t want a vampire kingdom, do you?” Liam came over and overcame my halfhearted effort to push him away.
“Already got one throne I don’t have room for. Queen Mihail—I mean Irina Mihail—got kicked out of the Court of Queens.” I meshed our fingers together, squeezing his hand.
Liam froze, his muscles going rigid. He ran his fingers over my ring finger and let go. “Why are you wearing that?”
For a man filled with fire, his tone carried pure ice. He tried to pull it off. Then tried harder, and harder. I’d seen him rip limbs off people as a dragon, but the silver ring on my finger resisted his grasp. Only when I cried out, afraid his pull was going to dislocate my shoulder, did he stop. “Explain.”
And I tried.
I told him about the dwarves, and how I felt when I saw the ring, and what it meant to never be burned. Then I told him about the court. About Mihail’s insanity. The thorn tree. The High Queen’s sentence. “I can’t take it off. But I don’t want to. I never want to take it off. If the world ends tonight, I want to be wearing it. If the Black Queen comes tomorrow, I want to flaunt it before her.”
He drew in a deep breath, his face unreadable. I’d stood in the office of the Adversary and not faced fear like this. I’d fought with demons and not felt such pain. Then he walked over and took my hand, and knelt. “Marissa Locks, will you marry me?”
There is a moment in a woman’s heart, when she hears that question, where time stands still. Sudden? Maybe. We’d only known each other a couple of years. But then again, love wasn’t known for gently knocking on the door of life, biding its time like an encyclopedia salesman. Love had a habit of backing a delivery truck through the barriers of my heart. That same buzz that filled me when I hit Grimm’s beam of light consumed me now.
“Yes.” Of course I said yes. My heart had answered before my lips could move. Yes, yes, and more yes. And then we celebrated, until nearly ten o’clock. The next time I left my bedroom, I did so fully clothed.
“We’re going out.” I pointed to the kitchen. “You can eat anything in there you can eat.”
“I must accompany you, if the liege goes.” She looked past me, at Liam, in a way that made me want to break a plate over her head.
“We’re going to see my best friend. Announce our engagement.” I tried not to let her ruin my mood. I didn’t have time to get it back before the world ended.
“Let her come. She can ride in back.” Liam put his hands on me and ushered me toward the door, and I didn’t feel like arguing. The backseat of my car would have been uncomfortable for a toddler, so I took some comfort in that as we drove over.
When I knocked the first time and Ari didn’t answer, I started pounding.
“Hold on, M. I can’t figure out how to work the peephole.” Ari’s voice sounded muffled by the heavy door.
“There isn’t much point. I already know it’s you, I already know you are there. Let me in.” I glanced over my shoulder, where Liam and Svetlana exchanged a private joke in whatever guttural language that was.
When Ari finally opened the door, I was surprised to find her wearing sunglasses. “We’re engaged!” I held out the ring as if Ari hadn’t seen it on my hand every time she’d seen me. After the requisite hugs,
Ari invited us in.
“I guess you can come in. Who’s the model?” She peered through me to Svetlana.
“Long story.” I turned to glance at Svetlana. “You can come inside. It’s creepy, but safe.”
She gave me a smile that would have melted butter. “It’s cozy. Reminds me of home.”
That settled it. I wanted nothing to do with wherever she lived.
We bustled into the living room, where the slight hesitation I’d picked up in Ari’s invitation made all the sense in the world. On the couch sat Wyatt, his hands folded in his lap.
On the coffee table Ari had a pile of toothbrushes, toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. Even I could tell exactly how she intended to spend the last hours of her life. “You two communicating?” I watched her face.
Her lips turned down in a pout. “That’s all we were doing. Talking.”
Liam walked past me and grabbed Wyatt’s hand, shaking both it and him. Liam’s arms always seemed thicker than fire hydrants, but standing next to Wyatt, Liam looked like Mr. Universe. The two exchanged pleasantries and began to chat.
“My fiancé could snap your boyfriend in half,” I whispered to Ari.
“Please, M. I could snap him in half. Grimm called half an hour ago to announce your engagement.” Ari nodded her head toward the mirror over her mantel.
“My dear, if I may offer my congratulations, I’d like to.” Grimm faded into view.
“You can tell me you found out what happens if I kill Malodin. That’s a perfect engagement gift.”
At my words, the chatter in the background ceased.
Grimm’s face turned down, his eyebrows furrowed. “It isn’t clear. I believe ownership of the contract would fall into question, and only the Authority could resolve that. Normally, being demons, it would go to the Adversary, but since he stands to gain the apocalypse, he cannot mediate it.”
I nodded. So kill the demon I’d made a contract with, and I’d buy some time.
“However, killing him, particularly in a dealing room, is an act of war. You would unleash the vengeance of Inferno on the world.” Grimm shook his head.
