But how?
Again, I act on instinct. My apparent modus operandi for the day. If I came here by following the demon’s psychic connection to Will, in theory, I should be able to return to Will by following the same path. Sounds logical. Except the only way I see to do it is to hop into the demon.
Hopefully my brain won’t hemorrhage from touching the thing, its evil overloading my empathic ability.
Not real. Won’t hurt. The justitia confirms my hope.
Please, God, let the entity be right.
Before I can think better of it, I step to the demon. Taking a deep breath while praying this instinct wouldn’t kill me, I slap my hands on either side of his face. And remain standing, no brain hemorrhage. Yes! Score one for the empath.
Perdix stiffens when I force my ghostly form through his flesh into his head. Colors swirl in a dizzying pattern. Lucky for me the curving path comprises the entire landscape of his mind, making it impossible to miss. Once my foot steps on the path, the circling, flashing lights carry me at hyper speed back to Will.
Please, God, let it be Will I land in.
Instead of Will’s mind, I’m thrown into my body. My body inside Will’s consciousness, that is. Will gasps as I land on my butt in the surf. He recovers quick, offering me his hand. Despite being in the water, I remain dry. Strange, but nice.
The reverberating voice negates my relief.
Come to me. I will give you peace.
“It didn’t work.” Will drops his head, his voice laced with panic.
“Yes, it did.”
His head pops up, eyes wide as he draws in a deep breath. “It did?”
“Gin!” Smythe’s voice drowns out the demon’s, halting my reply.
Smythe! Wake me up! Would he hear me? Would he know what to do?
My body moves, as if shaken by an unseen hand. More like a mage’s hand on my physical self. Yep, Smythe heard me and clearly knows what to do to get me to wake.
Come to think of it—apparently multiple jumps into different consciousnesses hindered the ability to think straight—I know how to wake up without his help. How to stop being inside Will’s head. All I have to do is let go of Will.
Once I release my grip on his physical body, my consciousness will return to my body. Then I can tell Smythe where the demon is so we can portal to the bastard and whack off its head.
No problem. I got this.
“Will.” I talk over Smythe’s voice, which still calls me, a thread of tension saturating his words. “Hang in there. I know where the demon is and we’ll go get him. Don’t give in. Okay? Don’t give in.”
He nods, hands over his ears. “It’s loud.”
“I know, man, I know. Just hang in there, all right?”
“Hurry.”
Closing my eyes, I imagine my fingers releasing their grip on Will's wrist, imagine my hand resting beside his but not touching. Let go, let go, let go.
With a gasp, I land in my body. My physical, solid body.
“Gin!” Strong hands squeeze my arms, give me a little shake, although not as hard as it felt inside Will’s consciousness.
I’m back!
I draw in a deep breath. The scent of pepperoni pizza fills my nose. Ah. Home. Opening my eyes, I lock my gaze onto the side of Smythe’s face, as he stares at where my hand rests next to Will's wrist. His gaze hops to mine, worry bleeding into relief. Then he grabs me a tight hug, a quick hug, releasing me before I can wrap my arms around his waist. Dammit.
Will lies crumpled beside me, curled into the fetal position, hands pressed against his ears. A tingle on the back of my neck alerts me to T and Eloise’s close presence. Under normal circumstances, I’d let T know I was okay. His worry and fear leave an acrid scent in my nose, twist into an ache behind my sternum. But these aren’t normal circumstances. Smythe needs to know the demon’s location so we can stop him before he escapes.
Or kills Will.
I touch Smythe’s arm. “I know where the demon is, but we have to move now.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
When I said, “move now,” I didn’t expect Smythe to move quite so fast.
“The abandoned house?”
I nod, shocked by his mind-reading abilities without me aware of him being in my head. A happening that surprises me no matter how often it occurs. One of these days I’m going to learn how to tell when he sifted through my memories.
Smythe opens a portal, grabs my hand and yanks me through the passage before I can say: “howdy” or “good-bye” to Eloise and T. But I’m not complaining. The sooner we kill Perdix, the better. We land in the backyard of the demon-lair house in the darkening light of evening. Insects chirp as a cool breeze ruffles my hair. A dull roar from the closest large road sounds in the background, an accompanying duet to nature’s symphony.
“Couldn’t you land us inside the house?” Why land outside in the dark when inside gives us a quicker route to Perdix?
Smythe raises a brow, letting me know that option was a tactical mistake. “This way we have the element of surprise.”
I lower my voice to a barely-there whisper. “But if we portaled right next to him, it would also have been a great element of surprise.”
“Yes,” he pitches his voice low like mine, “except you take too long to adjust after portaling. We might have surprised him by landing next to him, but you would have paused, giving him the advantage. This way you have time to adjust.”
“I do not—” My protest dies on my lips as I realize he was right. Stepping out of the space-cold portal always took me a second to shake off the frigid air. Only a second. Okay, maybe a couple of seconds. A couple of seconds was all a demon needed to attack, to gain the upper hand, to win the fight.
Smythe was right. Again. Dammit.
“Fine. You might have a point. In my defense, those portals are freezing.”
“Are you ready to kill a demon?”
I gesture to the house. “Lead on, oh master.”
“It’s mentor. Or guardian. Or mage.” One side of his lips curls up. “Although, I do like the sound of master.”
I roll my eyes, give a little head shake. “Get a move on. We don’t have all night.”
His wink sends tingles racing along my limbs, a reaction completely out of place for the situation. By the time I recover, he stands at the back door, muttering a spell. I jog to catch up, reaching him as he opens the thing enough for us to squeeze through without the tell-tale door squeak. A miasma of damp stench swirls in the air. I clamp a hand over my mouth and nose in self-defense. No wayward mold spores finding a new home in my sinuses.
Yuck. Where’s a house flipper when you need one?
The dirty, gray carpet muffles our footsteps as we walk toward the room where the demon tries to entice Will. With a small pop, the justitia forms into a sword, a welcome relief.
You real, me real. Kill demon. Excitement weaves through the entity’s voice straight into my nerves, fueling my eagerness to rid the world of another demon.
Can you give me super-speed again? Like you did with the minion in Kathy’s office?
A low rumbling chuckle spreads through my nerves. Me give speed. You kill demon.
Sounds like a plan to me.
We sneak down the hall, me in front, Smythe so close his breath ruffles my hair. The master bedroom door hangs halfway open, allowing us a clear view of Perdix, who stands back to us, facing a window. Despite his warped reflection in the glass panes, it’s evident his eyes are closed. His lips move but no sound escapes. Besides us, he’s the only one in the house. No minions to be found.
Which is odd. Usually a demon surrounds itself with minions.
Maybe he’s too busy killing humans to turn one into a minion. You’d think he’d have protection in place, a guard, minions to offer their own lives in defense of the big, bad demon.
Why am I complaining about the intricacies of demon defense systems? No minions mean my sole focus stays on Perdix, leading to a quicker kill.
In theory.
Focused on enticing his latest victim, Will, Perdix misses hearing our approach. Unfortunately, his eyes pop open, his gaze meeting mine in the reflection off the window, right as I swing at his neck. He leaps out of the way, turning to face us, gaze shifting between me and my mage. A sinister smile spreads his lips wide.
I am not scared of his chill-inducing smile. Really. I am not.
“Ah.” The deep tone of his voice crawls like spiders across my skin. “A visit from the illustrious Justitian and her somewhat capable guardian. Whatever have I done to deserve such a pleasure?”
Pushing my insecurity out of the way, I narrow my eyes, point my sword at the demon. “I think you know.” I step to the side in a blur of movement, trying to get in a swing, but he mirrors my movements. Smythe stands in the doorway, waiting for the action to begin before deploying his life-saving magic skills.
“You think you can defeat me this time. You think by bringing your guardian you can win. You think I won’t kill you because you belong to another. You think wrong.”
Why is it demons prefer bragging to attacking? They seem unable to perform without taunts, threats, and enough bravado to con a conman. Maybe it comes with living in Hell.
Ignoring the ego-inflated demon’s words, I dash forward, sword drawn back.
The stupid demon disappears, only to reappear behind me, giving me a shove. I stumble forward, but thanks to Smythe’s magic, land on a thin, but cushiony invisible mat. The entity along my nerves shrieks in my head.
Demon move faster than me!
Great. My super-speed means little against Perdix. At least Smythe’s here to help. Thank god for guardian mages.
A roll, a turn, and I face the demon. Another shit-eating smile spreads across his face as he steps to the side, offering me a clear view of Smythe. Who clasps his hands over his ears, dropping to the ground in classic there’s-a-demon-in-my-head pose.
My breath hitches. Oh my god, not him too.
Perdix chuckles. A bead of sweat trickles down my spine.
“Think I cannot fight you and destroy him? Think I am weak?” Pure malice taints his laugh. “I will destroy you. And him. And anyone else I see fit. I will be ruler of Hell and all within it. Not your thrice cursed master.”
What the hell is he talking about? Besides the destroying part. That I get. No time to puzzle the answer. Without Smythe, I’m on my own against this demon. If experience has taught me anything, Gin versus demon equals me being screwed.
I glance to the crumpled form of my guardian. Pain squeezes my heart. Pain mixed with a healthy dose of rage. How dare Perdix try to kill the man who’s my mentor, my friend, my lover? Rage wipes clean the remaining anger I feel over Smythe’s betrayal. The last thing I want is for Smythe to be hurt, for him to give in to the demon’s will, for him to die.
Only one way I know of to avoid that fate.
Kill the damn demon.
Which means I need to get over my doubts, my feelings of being screwed, my lack of confidence. I will take down Perdix. I will kill the fucking demon before he kills Smythe. And I will revel in his death.
Keeping an eye on the chatty demon who continues his tirade about my destruction and him becoming ruler of Hell, I do the one thing I swore never to do during a demon fight.
Call T.
T! Help! Smythe is down!
A wave of rage batters the barriers between my twin and I. Where are you?
The house for sale on Florida Avenue. Only one on the block. Hurry! I don’t know how long I can hold off this demon.
Be right there.
He slams our connection closed a second before Perdix rushes me. Guess I wasn’t paying as close attention to the demon as I thought. The tip of a sword he pulled from who knows where slices my arm, drawing blood.
Damn, that hurt.
One of these days I’m going to show up to a demon killing in the leather pants and black shirt Smythe gave me to fight Agramon. I might still get cut, but at least my good clothes won’t be ruined.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in my arm, I draw back my sword to attack. The justitia blocks my pain receptors, allowing me an agony-free swing. The demon leaps out of the way, only to return my swing with one of his own. Slash, duck, spin, counter. We both move so fast the room fades to a swirl of white walls and gray carpet. Sweat drenches my shirt as we parry.
The edge of my blade slices through his sword arm, cutting deep into his flesh, black blood marring his sleeve. He roars, his sword dropping with a dull thud onto the floor. I pull my arm back for the killing blow.
Halfway through the swing my body lifts from the ground, thanks to a demon anti-gravity move. With a flick of his hand, I fly through the air, crash into the dry wall, and tumble onto the nasty carpet.
Pain rips into my ribs, spreading across my torso, stealing my breath. I’m pretty sure I broke something, but once again the justitia shuts down the pain receptors along my nerves, returning me to a functional state. More like a barely functional state. Despite the lack of pain, my body shakes as I roll, as it takes two tries to sit upright. Coppery wetness fills my mouth. I spit blood onto the filthy carpet.
Great. Now what in my body is beyond broken?
No time to worry. Padded footfalls step closer.
“Had enough?”
I stare at the demon, hock another wad of blood on the carpet. The cackle in his laugh scrapes along overly sensitized nerves. Smythe continues to writhe on the floor, the agony written on his face, in his curled position, deepens the ache in my chest. Muscles quivering, I rise to my feet.
Perdix might knock me down, but no way will I allow him to mess with Smythe. The mage has saved my ass too many times for me to give in to my pain, freaking over serious blood-inducing injuries.
Red dots stain my vision as I rush Perdix.
The demon flicks a couple of fingers, the energy blast lifting me airborne, arms and legs pinwheeling, a broken puppet cut loose from its strings. Air rushes past my face as the opposite wall grows nearer. I wince, preparing for the hit, but instead of the wall, I land on a cushion of air. The moment the mat catches my flying body, the roar of an injured animal explodes into the small room, reverberating in the empty space.
Goosebumps prickle my skin. The mat floats me to the floor with the gentleness of a feather. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I turn, knowing without seeing who made the cry of anguish and anger.
T stands beside Eloise in front of a downed Smythe and Will. Will? Why was Will here curled on the ground in a fetal position? Shouldn’t he be at my house? I shove the thought aside, focusing on my irate twin. Arms held to his sides at shoulder height, eyes rolled so far back in his head only the whites show, his continued curdling yell stops Perdix in his tracks.
A cold burst of air blows through the room, dropping the temperature at least twenty degrees. My breath comes in small puffs of vapor. The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. Blood drips off my lip and I wipe it away with the back of my left hand.
Wisps of fog swirl into the room, aiming for T, circling around my twin in a dance of attraction. My fuzzy brain takes a moment to connect the dots. T wasn’t hollering to give me a fighting advantage. He was calling multiple ghosts.
And they were obeying.
A small smile turns my lips as tingles spread across my skin. T finally opened himself to his kick-ass ability.
Perdix turns pale. “What are you doing?”
“Killing you, bitch.” I spit out the words, along with a good deal of blood. The sooner we kill this demon, the quicker Eloise can heal me.
Silence spreads through the room as my twin stops yelling, punctuated by the heavy breathing of a sweating demon. T brings his hands together with a loud clap, palms touching, arms pointing at the demon. Air crackles as the wisps of vapor stream straight through Perdix.
The demon roars, batting at the air as if slapping away mosquitoes. Too bad for him, the ghosts ignore his feeble attempts to dissuade
their attack.
Ghosts whirl around me, brushing my skin, each touch eliciting racing tingles which spread until shivers rack my body. At least they don’t arrow through me like they do Perdix. The demon flails at the whirling ghosts, screeching each time one pierces his body.
Pointing my sword forward, I creep toward the frightened demon. Thank goodness the justitia blocks pain receptors. Otherwise, I would never be able to draw my arm back for a killing blow. Grasping my right wrist with my left hand for stability, I swing with all my strength. At the last second, before steel meets flesh, the demon looks at me, eyes wide, fear written in their depths.
Good-bye, sucka. The justitia slices through the demon’s neck like a scalpel through flesh, clean and smooth. Except for the black blood spattering the walls and me like a macabre abstract expressionist painting.
Perdix’s head and body fall in two different directions. His body crumples to the floor while the head rolls to a stop against the wall, black blood trailing in its wake. A flash of light followed by a pop and the body disappears into fine black silt. Good thing a cleanup crew exists.
For another moment, the ghosts circle the pile of silt like vultures waiting for a meal before vanishing. The room warms with their leaving, my breath no longer visible. With a tiny pop, the justitia returns to bracelet form.
Smythe releases his grip on his head, starts to straighten to his knees, pain easing from his expression as he draws in a deep breath. He looks straight at me.
“What happened?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Instead of answering, my attention snaps to my twin, who sways an instant before he crumples to the floor. Smythe can deduce what happened on his own.
“T!” I race to his side, dropping to my knees beside him.
Eloise joins me, kneeling on his other side, hands brushing mine aside as she performs a healing scan.
“What’s wrong?” I reach for T, pulling my hands back when Eloise shoots me a glare.
“Energy drain.”
Heavy, slow steps sound as Smythe walks to us. He stands behind Eloise, peering over her shoulder, hands on his hips, his face showing concern, no evidence of his ordeal apparent. Behind him, Will leans against the wall, rubbing a hand across his forehead as if to soothe a headache.
Devil Take Me Page 17
