Hellsbane Hereafter (Entangled Select Otherworld)

by Paige Cuccaro

  “I may be a bastard, but I’m no fool, woman.” My father snorted a laugh, his mouth lifting in a cocky grin, but an instant later, his scowl returned. “I gave no command to locate the Ring of Solomon. Someone else is lying to you this time.”

  I blinked at that. He sounded sincere. Jukar was a master liar, but he’d always taken a kind of sick joy in being brutally honest with me. Why would he keep lying now when he knew I had him? And if he didn’t send the demon and Fallen to harass Mihir, who had?

  Demons stuck together like koi in a pond. One of them had to know the name of the demon who’d hurt Mihir, but just as I was about to announce my intentions to interview each and every one of them, Eli stopped me.

  “The boys are in trouble,” he said, and before he’d even finished the sentence Jukar was gone.

  I opened my mind to Abram and knew instantly there was a fire at the campus house. Eli and I stood on the sidewalk in front of the big home half a heartbeat later.

  The fire trucks hadn’t arrived yet, but their sirens echoed over the city, still streets away. Jukar spoke to one of the demons he’d positioned around the boys for their protection.

  “Where are the boys?”

  The tall man was dressed in a white, soot-smudged chef’s smock and black slacks. More dark smudges colored his cheek and a patch under his nose. His white-gray hair, what there was of it, lay dingy and disheveled. He looked terrified. “Oui. Abram was here, Monsieur,” he said in a heavy French accent. “But then the boy…he ran back in. He said the other boys were not well. Uh, he say, they were, uh…comment dites-vous, asleep. Je ne sais pas—I do not know.”

  “You were placed here to protect them. Why are you not in there protecting them?” Jukar demanded, his face grim.

  The balding demon glanced from Jukar to the smoking house and back again, wringing his hands. “Archangel, s’il vous plaît. The building, it is on fire. I do not want to burn.”

  Jukar tisked, curling his top lip in distaste. “It wouldn’t kill you.”

  “Oui, but it would hurt.”

  “Ah, I understand.” Jukar drew his sword. “Tell me if this hurts.” In one lightning quick move he sliced off the demon’s head.

  The large man’s body crumpled to the ground, already smoldering as it and the head melted into black, stinking goo. At least no one was near who might have seen the disturbing show. Not even the goo would remain after a few minutes, and Jukar didn’t seem to give it a second thought.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Eli and me. “Let’s go.”

  Jukar vanished into the house, and Eli and I followed a blink later. Standing in the entry it was clear we were at the scene of a battle. Two bodies lay on the stairs, both covered in blood, one missing its head. They had to be illorum. Demons would’ve melted to nothing. Plus, at least one still held the hilt of his sword. My stomach lurched at the sight, and I had to look away.

  Smoke filled every breath, but the thick cloud still hovered high along the second floor ceiling. I didn’t know where the fire burned, and I couldn’t worry about it. We had to find the boys and get them out before it was too late. I ran to the right toward the living room, and Eli shot off in the other direction.

  The once-immaculate living room, with its rich, leather furniture, polished end tables, and built-in, ceiling-high bookshelves, was trashed. Overturned furniture filled the room, and broken shelves and books littered the floor. In the center, a black circle stained the expensive Oriental rug. I knelt down and brushed a finger over the stain. It came away slimy and stinking of brimstone. Someone had killed a demon.

  “Emma Jane,” Eli yelled from the entry hall. I raced to meet him. He’d checked the dining room and the kitchen.

  “Did you find anyone?”

  He shook his head. “Someone put up a fight, though. There are deep cuts in the table and chunks of granite missing from the kitchen counters as well as the wall. Most likely sword strikes. And there’s evidence of demon deaths. Three.”

  “Where are the boys?” I covered my mouth with the back of my hand. The thickening smoke scratched at the back of my throat, and I coughed. “If the fight was down here, what happened to the boys?”

  “Perhaps it was a distraction meant to keep their demon protectors busy, leaving the boys vulnerable.” Eli’s gaze shot up to the second floor as though he could see through the walls. “Jukar says they’re upstairs. There’s something wrong.”

  I didn’t regret not allowing the fallen angel into my head, but it sucked getting information secondhand. Eli didn’t elaborate, he just turned and teleported up the stairs. I could’ve beat him, but instead I followed behind.

  The smoke was intense but neither of the two angels seemed to notice. They didn’t need to breathe. I pulled the collar of my T-shirt up over my mouth and nose, struggling not to cough.

  Jukar stood in the center of the first bedroom. Abram was there, too, kneeling next to one of his housemates passed out on the bed. I couldn’t be sure, but I guessed from the golden-blond hair it was Pete Murray.

  Something felt off about the scene and the way the kid lay, one leg sprawled off the side of the bed, his left arm trapped under him, like he’d been dropped there. Across the room another boy, Tom Windfeld I thought, lay face down, fully dressed except for one missing shoe. I realized then that Pete was dressed, too.

  I squatted next to Tom, felt for a pulse. He was alive, but what had happened? “What is this?”

  Abram looked up at me, his face smudged with soot, dark stains under his nose and around his mouth. After a short coughing fit he said, “They’re unconscious. I can’t wake them up.”

  Jukar bent over and lifted Abram by his shoulders, then tucked him close to his body. “Elizal, you and Emma get as many of the boys out as you can. Ambulances are on the way.”

  With that the archangel and his son vanished. Eli didn’t seem at all surprised but instead set to work, scooping up Pete and tossing him over his shoulder. He looked at me. “Can you manage the other boy?”

  I lifted the kid the same way Eli had lifted Pete. Despite being at least a foot taller and probably thirty pounds heavier than me, it was easy. I slung him over my shoulder and teleported him to the sidewalk, laying him on the front lawn next to where Eli laid Pete.

  “The other guys are…” Abram said, pushing from Jukar to join us, his voice raw before breaking into another painful coughing fit. He recovered, swallowing hard. “They’re in their rooms. Nine more.”

  My throat was killing me, but I wasn’t as bad as Abram. He’d been in the smoke-filled house longer. I made the trip in and out with Eli four more times, grabbing bodies. Eli went in for the final kid, and within minutes we had everyone out. We each stopped at the door, careful to walk out at human speed. The police arrived first, no one I knew, and rushed forward each time, helping with the boys.

  All eleven boys lay unconscious on the front lawn, their beautiful house now fully engulfed in flames as the fire trucks pulled up along with the first of the ambulances. Despite the movement and all the noise, none of the boys had awoken.

  “Is it the smoke?” I asked.

  Jukar knelt next to Pete, brushing a thumb over the center of his forehead. “No. They’ve been touched. Put under by an angel.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because seraphim can’t kill innocent humans.” Eli, his voice low, kept our conversation private. “They can only arrange for their demise.”

  “This was an angelic hit?” I knew how insane it would sound to most people. But then we weren’t most people.

  Jukar moved around the frantic ambulance attendants, from one boy to the next, using his power to revive them. He’d touch a foot, or a dangling hand, nothing obvious, and each boy’s eyes slowly blinked open, their first breaths turning into coughs. After he finished, he joined us outside the ambulance where an EMT tended to Abram. They’d put him on a gurney, but they’d raised the back half so he could sit. Despite the oxygen mask, he could answer questions.
>
  Eli stepped up to the heavyset attendant and pulled a badge from his pocket. He flashed it at the other man. “Detective Smith. I need to question this witness. Mind stepping around to the front of the vehicle?”

  “I can’t leave a patient—”

  Eli cut him off and leaned close, his angelic power pouring out of him. “The patient is in good hands. Step around to the front of the vehicle.”

  The guy shrugged. “Okay.”

  Eli looked across Abram to me, and I raised a brow. “Really? We don’t give a crap about free will anymore?”

  Eli raised his chin. “I’m Fallen. The rules are different now.”

  “Right.” I looked at Abram. “Did you see the angel who attacked your housemates?”

  “Yeah. I heard the fighting downstairs, and I smelled the smoke. The smoke detectors didn’t go off, though.” His voice was soft, mumbled, but we could understand him well enough. “Then all of a sudden this guy barges into my room. He didn’t say anything, just walked straight up to me and pressed his fucking thumb to my forehead. I didn’t know what he expected, but I guess things weren’t going as planned. Thank God Juan came in.”

  “Did you say Juan?” Eli asked.

  Abram nodded behind his mask. “He cuts the grass and stuff. But when he came into my room, he had this black sword. He and the angel went at it. Gave me enough time to get out.”

  “You got out of the house?” I asked. “Came out to the sidewalk, right?”

  “Yeah. But when I saw that the only other person who’d made it out was Juan, I ran back in. I couldn’t find any of the other staff, but I saw the bodies on the steps. I don’t know who they were. I didn’t care. I mean, I wasn’t even sure what was going on until I found Pete. I figured out then that the angel had been trying to make me pass out, too. He was gone, though, so I tried waking the guys, but I couldn’t. And then you guys showed up.”

  “They will never get this close again.” Jukar’s nostrils flared, his hands closing into fists.

  Abram pulled the clear oxygen mask below his chin. “I’d feel better if we did something to make sure, you know? Like that thing you were talking about to make me stronger. Maybe we should do that now.”

  “Agreed. Come.” Jukar motioned for Abram to climb off the gurney, and the kid did, leaving the oxygen mask and tubing behind.

  “Hey, where are you going?” The chubby attendant jogged around from the driver’s side. “I can’t let you—”

  “He’ll be fine,” Jukar said, and I could feel the warm wash of his power brushing past me to slam into the guy. “He waives all medical attention. I’ll take him to his own doctor.”

  Any further argument the guy might have given melted away behind glassy eyes. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever.” He collected his equipment.

  “Wait a second.” I followed after father and son as they walked away. “What thing to make him stronger? What are you planning, Jukar?”

  “Release Amon, or die where you stand.” Liam, my redheaded illorum friend suddenly appeared in front of the archangel and Abram. He was several inches shorter than Abram and looked like a leprechaun next to Jukar, but he held his sword out, its point threatening them both.

  “Liam, what are you doing?” I stood frozen, eyes wide.

  He jerked forward, shoving the end of his gleaming sword within millimeters of Abram’s neck. “I know what you did. Let him go.”

  Abram squawked in fright, but it was Jukar who swung into action, swatting the illorum’s sword away with the back of his hand. The small, fuzzy-headed man stumbled back, landing hard on his ass.

  Determined, he scrambled to his feet, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Let him go, ya bastard. Let him go, and I’ll leave ya in peace. I swear it.”

  “Who are you?” Abram’s top lip lifted in disgust. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Lies!” Liam’s small, freckled face turned beet red, and veins bulged along his neck. He charged, but Eli launched in from the side and tackled him before he could do any harm or be killed himself.

  The angel wrestled him down, turning him to his stomach, wrenching his arms behind his back. The little man squirmed and fought, but he was no match for Eli.

  I hurried to kneel next to my…okay, my friend. We’d known each other for years. He’d taught me things no one else would. We’d been through a lot. As creepy as the short little redhead could be, I counted him as a friend. He grew on me. “Liam, what’s going on?”

  He stretched his neck, struggling to look up at me. “That little prick enslaved my Amon.”

  I glanced back at Abram. “What? How?”

  “The bloody ring,” he said. “He convinced Amon to get it for him. Made him do…” A sob strangled out his voice, but he tried again. “Made him do horrible things to get it.”

  “Amon?” Was he the demon who’d tortured Mihir? A sickening weight settled in the pit of my stomach. I looked back at my father and his precious son. “You sent Amon?”

  Jukar lifted his chin, his face flat, expressionless. He didn’t answer.

  I shifted my attention to Abram. “Why?”

  “They told me I needed it.” Abram’s eyes widened innocently. “I didn’t know they’d hurt anyone.”

  “Lies!” Liam fought Eli’s hold. “He told Amon he could free his brothers from the abyss with the ring. He could make it so they were beholden to no one. Amon believed the two-faced bastard.”

  Abram edged forward, ardent. “No. I told him I needed it to be safe. That’s what they said.”

  “You told Amon the ring had power over the domain of the Fallen and all things tied to the abyss,” Liam said.

  “No.” Abram shook his head, his cheeks suddenly flushed.

  I shifted forward, catching Abram’s attention. “Who is they?”

  Abram’s blue eyes shifted to me. “Angels. Actually, there was only one angel that talked about the ring.”

  “What’s his name?” Jukar asked, suddenly interested.

  Abram looked up into his father’s eyes. “I don’t know. He…he never said. But I’d recognize him if I saw him again.”

  “He must’ve been the fallen angel with Amon who kept healing Mihir so Amon could torture him again,” I said. But which one? Who among Jukar’s followers was strong enough to keep his thoughts hidden without Jukar knowing? It seemed impossible.

  “Aye, me poor Amon,” Liam sobbed, tears staining his cheeks. “He nearly ended himself that night. Couldn’t bloody stand the thought of what he’d done. But then he gave that feckin’ ring to the wee prince here the next day, and he was never the same again.”

  “What do you mean?” Eli asked.

  Liam tried to look at him, but Eli straddled his back, and the small man couldn’t twist that far. “Any time the boy called, Amon would run. Like he had no say, no will at’all. He’d leave without a word and hours later show up, not knowing where he’d been or what he’d done. The last time he left, he didn’t come back. And that feckin’ prick knows where he is. He’s got him locked up somewhere. Let ’im go. Let my Amon go, you bloody devil, you.”

  “I don’t have him,” Abram insisted, seemingly desperate for us to believe him.

  “Lies!” Liam fought hard against Eli’s hold, but he couldn’t make any headway.

  I looked at the archangel standing next to Abram, silently taking everything in. Did he know anything? “You’re okay with this?”

  Jukar’s pale eyes turned my way. “I am sorry for your friend and for whatever has befallen his demon lover. But none of this is my concern.”

  “What about the ring?” My hand flexed, anxiety wanting me to call my sword. I didn’t. “It’s supposed to control Fallen.”

  He laughed, just a soft chuckle. “Nonsense. What proof is there? A demon driven to do what he must on the chance he could free his brothers? Find me a demon who wouldn’t do the same.”

  “He’s gone missing.” Liam squirmed under Eli to no avail. “That boy there called him away,
and he’s not come back.”

  “Perhaps that’s more of a reflection on your relationship than on some magical ring,” Jukar said. “I’ll have the boy pick out the Fallen who encouraged him to acquire the ring and ask about the demon Amon. Beyond that, I simply don’t have time to waste on this silliness.”

  “Ya wicked bastard,” Liam said, his voice nearly a growl. “Amon loves me.”

  “Yes…well, they’re called demons for a reason.” Jukar smirked. “Unfortunately their loyalties are often self-serving. Perhaps his needs have changed.”

  “You did know the ring controls the Fallen,” I said to Abram. Mihir was right about the ring. I was sure of it. And for me, Amon’s strange behavior was the proof. “Why do you need a ring that controls fallen angels?”

  “I don’t.” Abram looked to each of us, as if begging us to believe him. “I mean, I don’t know. The angel said I needed it.”

  He sounded sincere, but my gut told me Liam was right. It was all a lie. “What angel? What did he look like?”

  Abram shrugged. “I…I don’t know. He was tall, with short brown hair. He looked about my age. Just kind of average.”

  “Perfect. So it’s a Fallen who’s done his best to look like everyone else. Okay, that narrows it down. Not. C’mon, Abram, there has to be something that stands out about him.” I propped my hands on my hips, trying to do my best intimidating big sister act.

  The kid’s gaze drifted past me to the crowd that had gathered across the road to watch the fire. His brows shot up, and he pointed, excited. “Hey. That’s him! That’s the angel who told me I needed the ring, right there.”

  We all turned, but I was the first to pick the culprit out of the crowd. My heart stopped. “Michael?”

  “Are you certain?” Jukar’s brows creased with what looked like genuine confusion. “That is the angel who spoke to you?”

  Abram nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. That’s him.”

  “Then the seraphim must’ve known about the boy for months. Their ignorance has been a hoax.” Eli looked at me. “What does this mean?”

  I turned from Eli to stare back across the neighborhood street at the archangel. “I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell gonna find out.”