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whiskey witches 01 - whisky witches Page 31

by S. M. Blooding


  Three cops writhed on the ground at their feet. She could barely make out the sounds of their cries as the fog parted, could barely discern the howls of laughter from the demons.

  “You sure you can do this?” Paige muttered.

  Roxxie squared her small shoulders. “Only one way to find out. Go get them.”

  Paige called up the power of Hell. She formed it into ethereal clawed hands. She grabbed each of the demons’ souls, maintaining her hiding spot behind the junk cars.

  Fear covered their nearly human faces as they turned to face her. They fought bought back, throwing his soul energy at her arms.

  Curling her lip, Paige tugged on the flow of power from Hell. Her heart asked questions her mind couldn’t translate. Curiosity. Question. In her mind, she asked one question. Do you want them back?

  A portal opened beneath her feet, one her gifted eyes could see. A thinning of the veil between her world and Hell as it answered back. Yes.

  She flung them through the portal.

  Hell reclaimed them with unabashed glee.

  Roxxie cried out.

  Power flowed through Paige. Hell beckoned like a lover. “What’s wrong?”

  “It—it’s not—” The angel waved Paige on. “I’m fine. I can do this.”

  Paige’s nerves went raw, as if she were standing in the middle of a fire. Then they calmed just as suddenly. “Are you sure?”

  “No.” The angel’s voice was small.

  Paige had to hurry, and she had to figure out how to do this without Roxxie if the angel failed. She breathed. This was her gift. It was a part of her. She could do this. She had to. Sounds grew distant as she concentrated her will, turning off all other distractions.

  She had to.

  ONE OF THE men on the ground scrambled to his feet.

  A woman ran out from behind a pile of cars. Demon.

  Its soul called to Paige, but not as though it were trying to push her out. The way demon souls had always called to her. She reached for it.

  The man pulled out his rifle, and blasted the demon.

  It laughed. With a flick of the woman’s wrist, the cop fell to the ground.

  Paige raised an eyebrow and released her power.

  The demon froze, unable to disperse, to move.

  “Talker,” a loud, multi-toned voice shouted behind her. “Talker!”

  Paige banished the first demon, then reached toward the one that had raised the alarm. With a wiggle of her fingers, the demon returned to the loving arms of Hell.

  Her power slithered outward, hunting. In her mind’s eye, the cars, the fog, and the destruction became diaphanous. She saw demons, not as red dots in a globe. She saw their faces, what they were doing, where they were.

  She raised her head and walked to the next batch of them, ripping from earthy existence.

  “Detective?”

  She paused and focused on the man at her feet. “Duke?”

  He scrubbed his face with the back of his arm. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “I’m doing what I do best.” She jerked her arms back, bringing two more demons to kneel beside the police officer. “Be gone.”

  The two demon souls fell screaming through the portal. Their human husks collapsed to the ground.

  Paige stepped over the female. “Get your men out of here, Duke.” The fog wrapped around and between them. “Now.”

  He ran on all fours before gaining his feet.

  The demons fell back to a central location within the maze of dead vehicles.

  Guns fired. People shouted.

  Silence.

  Paige paused between an old beat up truck and a station wagon with a flattened roof. She peered into the fog. No souls called to her gift. Her ethereal arms poised like snakes, waiting, watching.

  A group of demons attacked.

  Roxxie fell to her knees.

  Paige sent two of the demons through the portal. “Get up.”

  “I can’t.” The angel panted, sweat dripping from her pink hair. “Too many. Must call for help.”

  One of the demon’s faces twisted in a grim smile. He balled his fist and slammed it against Paige’s cheek.

  Pain crashed through her. She stumbled back, her gift latching onto the demon.

  The damn thing pushed at her soul, attempting to take over.

  “Roxxie,” Paige gritted out.

  The angel’s fingers twitched. Blinding white angel light stabbed the demon in the chest. It exploded in ash, along with its human shell. “I’m going to call—”

  “Like hell you are.” Paige doubled down on her will. She couldn’t allow the angel to fight. Her summoner claws flexed. Two more demons gone. “Just concentrate harder.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then why the hell did you volunteer?”

  “She’s always getting herself into trouble.”

  The demons stopped moving, their eyes widening in fear.

  Paige’s entire body went cold. “Xael.”

  “I told you to call us when you needed us.”

  Paige gritted her teeth and sent two more demons home. “I don’t need you.”

  Xael punched his fist into her chest. He filled her presence with a swell of chill. Her arms moved without her direction. Her legs propelled forward. Her lips released names she didn’t know. Demon’s screamed. Roxxie fell to the dirt, her head hanging in defeat.

  Silence fell over the junk yard.

  “Oh, Sven,” Xael called. “Do you want to come out and play?”

  The fog swirled in front of her and slowly dispersed. “I almost thought you wouldn’t come, mate.”

  Sven stood tall and strong several feet in front of them. He tipped his blonde head to the side. His eyes blinked black in the growing light, and then reverted to human again. “And you brought friends. I’d have thought you’d’ve left these ones behind.”

  “You do no fear me, demon?” the angel asked.

  Sven snorted. “No. Did you bring my demon? Lucius.” He wagged his finger, staggering a step as though drunk. “I require Lucius.”

  “You have nothing worth the demon.”

  He smiled slick and slow. “Ye might be surprised.” Sven snapped his fingers.

  Someone was pushed to the front, his hands bound. He was tall and dark. His body was covered in bruises and blood. He stood stooped, ragged and near exhaustion.

  Xael raised an eyebrow. “What would I want with that?”

  Sven chuckled. “Do ya really know nothing?” He shifted his dark gaze to Paige. “Well, you are an archangel and all that. Why would you stoop so low to learn about who we are?”

  “There are billions of you.” Xael shifted beside her. “How could I possibly know you all?”

  Sven tsked. “This is one of the guardian demons, the lost brethren.”

  Paige raised her chin. What was the point of giving her this one? What did Sven want with Lucius?

  Sven gestured to the demon in question. “Marx.”

  The demon raised his head. There was little she could make out. Dark green blood oozed from cuts and welts along his face. His violet eyes met hers with an intensity his haggard body betrayed.

  “A demon for a demon,” Sven said. “You have the one I want.”

  “I don’t want this one.” Xael straightened his shoulders. “He’s worthless to me.”

  Sven laughed. “You think so? Where are your guardian angels, eh?” He bit his bottom lip. “Ha. That’s right. You don’t got any. Why? Because the angel horde couldn’t be bothered. So, you need these demons. You need him.”

  Xael smiled, his lips barely separating. “The answer is no. You can keep that one. I’ll keep Lucius. Do whatever you want . . .” The angel’s ebony eyebrows rose. “ . . . with that.”

  Thunder roared across Sven’s features. “You leave me no choice.” He raised his fist.

  Marx evaporated, the trail of his smoky existence disappearing into Sven’s pocket.

  What had just happened? Where had the guardia
n gone?

  Sven took a defensive stance, his hands raised. Power gathered around him. “I had hoped to make a bargain with you, to join forces, like.”

  Shots rang out from behind her. Bullets slammed into Sven.

  Paige tried to see behind her.

  Xael released her.

  She twisted on one knee. Brian.

  Sven saw the man and chortled. “Bullets do no good, man child.” He flicked his wrist. Cars rose around him. “Nothing either of you have will do much good against me.”

  The cars crashed down around her.

  Roxxie tackled Paige, raising her arm. Dust and wind whirled around them.

  The cars fell like scattered toys in a wide circle.

  Paige blinked. Control of her body, of her gift belonged to her. Roxxie’s shields were back in place. She tapped into her core and called upon the earth. Dust rose.

  Xael’s face twisted as he faced off with Sven. “You are not a demon.”

  Sven laughed. “I am not a man either.”

  Roxxie grasped Paige’s hand, her flaming pink hair glued to her face. “You have to remove Sven. You’re the only one who can.”

  Without the dagger. Without any weapon. She had her magick. She imbued her Hell-empowered claws with the might and resilience of Earth. The tenacity of wind followed, the patience of water next. All that was left was fire. She dipped into her anger, her frustration.

  Her shadow arms grew like golem wraiths.

  Sven paused, frowning at her in surprise.

  The claws found his face, raked his chest.

  He cried out. Stones and pebbles rose from the ground as he controlled them. He shot them at her. “You can’t send me back, Talker.”

  She continued to combine her abilities in her attack. The wind howled around them. It felt like being in the middle of a tornado. Rain, dirt, debris, and a side-mirror raced by.

  Roxxie’s hair battered her face.

  Power slammed into Paige like a wall, forcing her onto her hands. She pushed back with her shadow arms, every muscle in her body tight and taunt. She bowed her head, throwing everything she had at the demon.

  The car beside her burst into flame. The heat seared her. She could hear her hair crisp; smell the odor of her singing flesh. She got to her feet and stumbled away.

  The car on the other side of her burst into flame as well. She fled the heat. Her skin hurt. Ignoring the pain, she continued her assault.

  Her demon-ripping talons weren’t enough. She needed something else. Something more.

  Desperate, she inserted her hands into the flames on either side of her. Her flesh burned. The pain overwhelmed her momentarily. Her assault paused as she gathered her mind’s will. She retracted her shadow arms, and pulled the power of the fire into the whirlwind buffeting the demon.

  Sven screamed a guttural roar as his body was engulfed. He raged against it. He pushed. He fought. He weakened.

  Paige walked slowly toward him, calling more flame, bringing more fury to the winds.

  Roxxie screamed and crumpled to the ground.

  Xael roared, but did not make it far before a wild wind sent him flying out of view.

  Everything stopped.

  The power ceased as though she’d come to the end of her rope.

  Paige scrambled to find more power. Rage. She could use it.

  Nothing. She was numb and tapped out.

  She stared around her in surprise. Her knees folded, unable to hold her up anymore. Her heart raced inside of her chest.

  Silence surrounded her. No bugs. No breeze. The sun climbed, shedding a brighter light on the situation.

  Sven staggered to his feet, his clothing ragged and scorched, his face red and savagely peeling. He smiled, raising his hands above his head. He shouted a single word.

  Paige found herself flying backwards.

  She landed hard on top of a car. Pain shot through her body. She fell to the ground.

  Sven stood above her, his expression softened with pleasure. “You are my best opponent. I think that might be what I love most about you.”

  Paige struggled to rise, to fight.

  Sven knelt beside her, caressing her face with fingers already healed. “You are amazing.”

  She pulled away from him.

  He cupped the back of her head, locking her gaze with his. “But why are we here?”

  “The key.” Her whispered response lacked conviction. Something in the gleam in his eye, or the set of his jaw. Was she wrong?

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why the key?”

  “You want to open the Gate to Hell.”

  His eyes softened. “Why?”

  A frown flickered between her brows. “To create chaos?”

  “Chaos without purpose is simply chaos.”

  She realized in that moment just how little she knew about him. What did he want? “Give me your name.”

  One corner of his lips lifted as he ducked his head. “You have to earn that.” He looked at her through his eyelashes. “No.”

  All her reasoning, all her posturing, everything she thought she’d been able to piece together was wrong. That look told her she was on the wrong track. She’d studied the evidence. It had led her to these conclusions.

  But what did he want?

  Mike Jones was the mastermind. He’d been the one to find Malika, to get the key, to trap the guardians within it.

  What did Sven want?

  Sven had been nothing more than a lucky find, a coincidence. He’d tripped onto Mike and Malika. She knew that because he’d nearly possessed her and had let information slip.

  But he hadn’t let slip what he wanted.

  He pressed his lips onto her forehead. Rising, he turned and strolled away. The fog rolled around him. “We’ll meet again, little bird. Next time, bring me my demon.”

  WHAT HAD PAIGE gotten herself in the middle of? She rolled over onto all fours and nearly wished she hadn’t. Everything hurt. She’d gotten her ass handed to her. For what? She was no closer to gaining control of the key. Sure. She had a few less demons on the playground, but what had that bought her?

  Nothing.

  Sven escaped. Again.

  Mike Jones was nowhere.

  And that damned key was still missing.

  Roxxie lay on the ground, her pink hair splayed along the pale dirt.

  Paige crawled to her, gravel digging into her already healing skin. “Roxxie.”

  The angel didn’t stir.

  Paige couldn’t see anything wrong. She checked for a pulse at the angel’s wrist. Did they even have a pulse? Roxxie’s chest rose and fell. Still breathing. No blood. What else could it be?

  Well, she’d been Paige’s shield. If Paige felt as if she’d been sucker punched by a Mack truck, it could be Roxxie had taken a large chunk of that blow instead. Maybe she needed rest, sleep. Whatever angels did. She picked up the angel’s head and cradled it in her lap, leaning against the tire of the car behind her.

  Men and women picked themselves off the ground around the junk yard.

  “How did we get here?” one woman asked, massaging her arm.

  A man gripped his head with both hands, spinning in a small circle, his eyes wide. “What happened?”

  “What’s going on?” Another man asked, tugging at his pants as though seeing something odd. What that was, Paige no idea. “Why am I at the junk yard?”

  “Demons.”

  A middle-aged woman looked at the man who’d spoken.

  He turned to Paige, his blue t-shirt bunched around his waist. “What do we do?”

  Paige didn’t know. If only she could protect them. Even with an angel to shield her, Sven had still won without breaking a sweat. That was a lie, but the damned demon had walked away while she lay panting on the ground like a dead dog. “Go to church. It doesn’t matter which one. Choose one and stay there.”

  Xael stepped through the crowd. People made way for him without looking directly at him, as though they couldn’t see him, or as if ac
knowledging his presence was wrong.

  “Watch out for each other.” Church really couldn’t help them, but it couldn’t hurt either. “Any of you can be possessed at any point of time. This is not a witch hunt, people. If you suspect someone has fallen under the possession of a demon—” Paige stopped. She needed a real plan. These people needed a real plan, and she just didn’t have one.

  “Then you let me know.” Brian limped into view. “Gather everyone in our parish. Bring them to church.” He glanced at Paige. “Leave no one behind.”

  Everyone hurried off, pulling out their cell phones.

  “What are we supposed to do with the possessed?” Brian asked softly.

  “I’ll—” Paige let her head fall back to the car behind her, her eyes heavy with fatigue. She had no clue. “I’ll think of something.” Somehow.

  “Mike’s not here,” Brian said.

  The whole point of going to the junk yard had been to get Mike Jones and that damned key. Mike Jones. The angel. And the broken key that didn’t seem to work anyway. How did she even know the gate had been opened with the key? What if it had something to do with what Sven had done instead?

  “What did that man say to you, Detective?”

  Paige met Brian’s gaze. “What man?”

  “The blonde.”

  “Oh.” How had it completely slipped her mind that Brian hadn’t actually seen Sven yet. “That’s Sven, the demon.”

  “The mastermind.”

  “I had thought so.” But maybe he still was. Maybe she wasn’t seeing everything clearly.

  The evidence had led her there.

  To a junk yard filled with demon possessed humans protecting an angel with a broken key to the Gate of Hell.

  No. That really didn’t make sense. Did it?

  She’d discovered a lot in the past couple of days.

  What and how did it change the evidence?

  Sven. He was . . . courting her. Courting her through her field—as a homicide detective and as a Whiskey witch. Had he been sending her secret messages all along?

  Like the ones on the bodies?

  Or perhaps, he’d only had to resort to that because she’d missed the other messages he’d left her.

  Brian’s face entered her field of vision as he knelt beside her. “What did he say, Paige?”

  “I don’t know.”

 

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