by T. S. Ryder
There was a reason Dragons guarded the gates to hell.
Ian flung his tail back and battered the demons into his wing. He tossed them into the air and burnt them as they fell. The army tried to round back behind him, but he whirled, careful to keep his stomping feet from Lydia as he let out another burst of fire. A few of the demons tried to run and he snapped them in his jaws, breaking them in half. The only one left was the elephantine one that had struck Lydia with the spear. Ian grabbed it in his hands and twisted it into two parts, tossing both away. He snarled, daring any other demons to advance. None materialized.
Alone again, Ian shifted. Blood trickled from Lydia's mouth as her body shook. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Ian's stomach churned. He had failed her.
No, not yet. As long as she was breathing, there was hope.
"It's going to be okay," Ian promised her. He didn't dare try to remove the spear, and so he snapped off the shaft. Lydia cried out when he did so, and he flinched with her pain. "It's going to be okay. I'm going to shift again and carry you to a hospital."
The world would see him as a Dragon, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything but making sure Lydia would survive.
***
People screamed and scattered in all directions when he landed in the hotel parking lot. He ignored them, shifting back to his human form as he cradled Lydia in his arms. Her breath was shallow, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, blood staining them both. She didn't have much time left.
If she died, he would descend into hell itself and destroy everything he saw. It didn't matter if that was their realm, he would declare war on the pits and he would make them pay for taking her from him.
"Somebody help me!" he shouted as he charged through the doors. A few people from the parking lot stumbled away from him, eyes wide and mouth agape. The nurses inside stood frozen, stunned at what they had seen.
Ian growled. "Help me now!"
Two more nurses came running in from the hall. Neither of them had seen him as a Dragon, so they ignored their coworker's squeaked protests as they ran to Lydia and Ian. One of them checked her pulse while the other ordered one of the nurses at the triage to call surgery. Confusion and fear still sat heavy in the waiting room, but slowly things began to move. More nurses came out to help.
Humans were good at convincing themselves that they hadn't seen what they thought they saw – maybe they would ignore the fact that they had seen him as a Dragon. The nurses got a gurney for Ian to lay Lydia down upon, then drilled him with questions as they headed to the elevator doors. He snarled in impatience.
"Don't ask questions, just save her. If she dies, I swear I'll burn this building to the ground!"
"Sir, it is nae going to help anybody if you dinna calm down," one of the nurses said.
Ian ignored her. If they were mates, just being near him would heal her rapidly. But they weren't mates.
"Sir, are ye listening to me?"
Ian forced himself to focus on the nurse's face. As much as he hated it, he had to let the nurses take Lydia away, so she could be properly looked after. He had to stay behind and take care of the mess this whole incident had caused. Would his clean-up guy here in Scotland be able to handle it? Giant dragon… would his clean-up guy decide he didn't want to work for him anymore?
"I need you to answer some questions," the nurse said, her grip tight on his wrist. "Can ye do that for me, sir?"
Ian nodded hollowly. He pulled himself free of her. "I need to make a phone call first."
"Nae, I think you need some clothes first. Come with me." She gently prodded him down the hall. Reluctantly, Ian followed.
Chapter Nine – Lydia
She was in a waiting room. It was plain with off-white walls, gray carpet, and magazines featuring dozens of languages stacked on the small coffee table. A receptionist sat at a desk, typing away at a computer.
When Lydia first arrived, the receptionist had told her to take a seat and wait because it might take a while. She didn't know how long it had been since then. She had tried to read the magazines, but they all reminded her that she didn't have time to waste and so she ended up watching the receptionist ignore her.
"What am I waiting for?" she asked, abruptly annoyed. "Where is this, anyway? I know I got speared. Is this limbo? It can't be heaven or hell. Just doesn't fit the profile."
The receptionist gave her an irritated look but didn't respond. Just as Lydia was about to march over and demand answers, a door just past the receptionist opened. She leaped to her feet, her heart in her throat, as two people walked in.
"D-dad? Mom?"
Tears flooded her eyes. She rushed into their arms, the stress and fear from the years without them melting away. They wrapped their arms tightly around her.
"You've grown into such a beautiful young woman," her mother said, beaming. "I can't wait to hear everything you've done with your life – but not now."
Her dad kissed the top of her head. "You have to go back, sweetheart. I know it won't be easy, but you have to go back."
Back where? To life, with all its pain and uncertainty? Ugh. No thank you. Lydia shook her head. "It's better here. I can't do anything there, anyway."
Her parents glanced at each other. Her mother shook her head. "What makes you say that?"
"I'm only one person, and I can't even use my supposed Paladin abilities. Ian—" She cut off. If she stayed here, Ian would be facing the horde of demons on his own. How was that fair?
"Ian?" Her father frowned. "Who is this Ian?"
Her mother gave him a half-glare. "Someone she has to get back to, obviously."
Lydia nodded slowly. "I have to go back. For him."
"Then go." Her mother and father both kissed her. "Go now!"
Lydia's eyes flew open. In an instant, she was aware of everything around her. The beeping of a heart monitor, the IVs sticking into her arm, a vague itching in her chest where the burning pain of being stabbed ought to be. A nurse beside her bed, about to insert a needle into her IV.
The nurse's eyes flicked to her. Cold, dead eyes. The kind that killed without remorse, the kind that had haunted her dreams for twenty years.
Lydia screamed. The demon slapped a hand over her mouth. A burst of fiery strength ran through her and she struck the demon in the ribs, making it stumble back. It still had the needle, though, and switched to try to plunge it directly into Lydia. She threw herself to one side, dodging the deadly point. Her movement yanked on her IVs, bringing the stand down on the demon.
With another scream, Lydia yanked the IV needle from her arm. A bolt of white-hot pain ran through her arm while blood spurted into the air; the demon lunged again, and this time she struck back. The IV needle went cleanly through its eye. The demon reeled back, screaming and howling in pain. Lydia jumped out of the bed and grabbed a chair sitting next to it. As the demon straightened, she hurled the chair at it and ran for the door.
"Help!" she screamed. "Ian!"
The hospital gown flapped around her as she burst through the doors to the corridor outside. Her whole body felt like it was filled with fire, but it didn't hurt – more like she was made of fire, not merely channeling it. The demon chased after her, but she slammed the door into its face as it jumped towards her, and it crumpled.
A shout made her turn. Ian was being held by a dozen security guards. His arms were being yanked behind his back. He threw off one of his attackers, only to be tackled by two more. One of the guards pulled out a Taser. Smoke curled from Ian's mouth, his skin taking on a blue-green hue. Lydia growled, charging for them.
On instinct, she threw out her hands. The lessons Ian had been trying to teach her came back, tingling at the back of her mind. She called the fire inside and let it surge through her arms, into her palms. Bright, pure white light burst from her hands. The guards shouted, shielding their eyes from the light. Three of them howled in pain, clutching their heads. They fell to their knees, spasms overtaking their bodies.
When the light disappeared, these guards whipped their heads up, screaming. Lydia stumbled back, heart in her throat. Distorted, grimacing faces greeted her. Their skin was a mottled white and amber-red, eyes pure black. Sharp teeth gleamed and forked tongues flickered.
The human guards cried out, stumbling away from the demons. Was this why they wanted to kill her? Because she could reveal what they truly were?
Lydia's stomach churned. The fire inside, so powerful moments ago, was dying, doused by fear. She tried to call it back, but she didn't have the control she should have. Ian surged to his feet, but the demons punched him in the kidneys and knees, driving him back down. One of them focused on the Dragon, beating him, while the other two headed for Lydia. She held up her hands and called forward her weak fire again. Blue flames coated her fingers.
One of the demons chuckled, those dead eyes locked on her. "Such a brave little girl. Or should I say stupid? You've never gone for what you really wanted, have you? You've drifted through your life, always waiting for someone else to push you to do what you want."
The fire around Lydia's hands flickered. She backed away while the demons came forward. The nurses and security guards were all running in the opposite direction, but there was nowhere for Lydia to run – not unless she was going to go through a window. The demon that had tried to kill her while she was unconscious stepped into the corridor. Blood dripped from its ruined eye, but it grinned at her.
"You can't defeat us," it said. "One little girl against the powers of hell. Give up and your death may be quick."
Lydia shuddered, stomach churning. Those words felt so familiar. Her chest ached where she had been speared – no. That had been higher. Her breath caught. The old bullet wound she received when she was five years old was aching.
And she remembered where she had heard the demon's statement before. Her father had been standing over her with nothing but his fists against a demon as it revealed its true nature. You can't defeat me. One little man against the powers of hell.
Her mother had already been dead. Her father must have known there was no way to defeat them. But he fought anyway.
So would she. Lydia threw her hand forward, sending a fireball towards the demons. They moved aside, but it flickered and died before it even reached them. Lydia tried to summon more fire, but her hands shook with fear, and her inner ferocity burned low. She glanced helplessly towards Ian. The demon was still beating on him; his hands were pinned beneath its knees and his head moved side to side like a ragdoll's with every blow. Blood coated his face.
"Ian," she called.
"Don't think that the Dragon will save you," the demon she had stabbed said. "His line was weak. It was easy to turn the humans they knew against them. His apathy in the centuries since has helped us. He doesn't care enough to try to help you now."
Ian roared. The demons jumped and turned. The Dragon let out a burst of fire from his mouth, burning the head off the demon that was beating on him. His face was a mass of bruises and blood as he dragged himself to his feet. Smoke rolled off him, coming from various cuts covering his body. His teeth sharpened in his mouth.
Lydia didn't wait to see what the demons would do. Their distraction bought her just a few seconds. She raced into the nearest room and slammed the door shut behind her. Grabbing a chair, she swung it at the window. The glass shattered as the door burst open again.
The demons streamed in. The one with the bleeding eye lunged for her. She screamed, swinging the chair at it. It struck the chair aside.
"Drop!" Ian shouted from somewhere near the door.
Lydia didn't hesitate. She threw herself to the floor, curling into a ball. A burst of flame filled the room. The curtains caught flame instantly. The demons screamed as they were consumed. One threw itself out the window only to explode like a firework just outside. The rest of them writhed as Ian jumped onto the flaming bed. He tore into them, ending it in seconds. The last one fell, burned beyond recognition.
Lydia stumbled to her feet. The heat made her head swim. A fire alarm rang somewhere in the building and a sprinkler system in the ceiling activated, spraying down in the burning room. Ian ripped down the curtains and stomped them out while Lydia pulled off her hospital gown to smother the burning mattress. The smell of melting plastic made her gag.
Ian's arms wrapped around her waist. "We have to go. There's no more time."
"Right," she said. He pulled her towards the window. "Wait, you're not going to jump, are you?"
"Don't worry." He kissed the back of her neck. "I can fly."
Chapter Ten – Ian
Ian's emotions ran rampant as he flew Lydia back over the ocean towards the States. So many warring thoughts battled for supremacy in his mind. Out of all his worries and fears, though, one brilliant spot of hope shone through.
Lydia had been on death's door but was completely healed in a matter of hours. That could only mean one thing. She was his mate. Their connection was what saved her, what stitched her flesh back together and allowed her to tap into her powers.
But what if she didn't want it? What if after this was done she decided she wanted a normal life with a normal romance and walked away from him? Or worse – what if she died? He didn't know how he would survive that, not after everything. He was just opening his heart again. If he experienced that pain again, it might just turn black and cold.
He landed outside the restaurant that Lydia managed. The fact that the demons had attacked her here and that was where both she and Ian were drawn to had to mean something. As soon as he touched down, a dark tingle ran down his spine. He shifted. Lydia climbed from the car he'd carried her over in and shuddered.
"The gates are here," Ian said. "They're opening up."
"I can feel them," Lydia breathed. She shuddered. "It's awful."
"I know. We have to get inside and stop it. I don't know if the barrier will still be intact."
Lydia glanced around wildly. Her hands patted her pockets. Searching for a key, Ian realized. She froze suddenly, as though remembering she couldn't have it on her, then swooped down. She snatched a sizable chunk of broken concrete and hurled it through the window. The glass shattered and alarms started blaring. Ian followed her in as she rushed in and disabled the security system.
"I am never working again, am I?" Lydia asked, gazing sadly at the shattered door. "After this, I'll be lucky if I avoid prison. That or Maria is going to kill me."
Ian pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her mouth. Despite the situation, or maybe because of it, she responded with a fierceness that surprised him. Her arms wrapped around him, her body undulated against his, and she teased his mouth open, thrusting her tongue in at once. The desperation tore at his heart.
The Dragon held her close for a moment before breaking away from her. "Don't worry about your job," he told her. "You always have a place with me."
"Yeah, but I love working."
"I'm rich. I'll take care of all of this. And I'll buy you a new restaurant."
Lydia managed a smile at him before she untangled herself from his embrace. "It's silly to be worrying about work right now. We have Hell to catch."
Ian nodded. "Right. But before we do, I just want to say… Thank you. I have been carrying so much anger and bitterness inside of me. I've cut myself off from humans and had to struggle to find anything worth saving. But you reminded me… there is good in individuals, and a whole forest can't burn because of a few rotten trees."
Lydia kissed him again. Ian reluctantly broke it before he wanted to. Together, they rushed into the back. The floor beneath their feet felt unstable; Ian tensed. He recognized this feeling. The gate was close to the surface.
"Stand back," he said.
Lydia pressed back against the wall. Ian concentrated, bringing his fires up through his belly in a concentrated stream. He spat it out, hitting the floor dead center. Chunks of floor burst into the air. Dust flew every which way. Lydia yelped, but Ian repeated the blast, ag
ain and again. Soon the gate came into sight. A grid pattern of flickering light expanded over the entrance to a tunnel filled with black smoke.
Ian didn't realize Lydia was standing next to him until she gasped. He took her hand. Behind the bars were demons. They pressed against the light, screeching and wailing. Hundreds of thousands of them, scrambling through the smoke towards the entrance.
"It's damaged," Lydia said, pointing.
One corner of the grid was fainter with a few of the strands of light broken. A demon threw itself repeatedly at this second, gnashing its teeth. Lydia squeezed Ian's hand so tight it hurt.
"You need to fix it." She looked at him with hopeful eyes.
"I can't. I don't have that ability. And if I try to burn them, I might damage the block. You're a Paladin." Ian gripped her shoulders tightly. "You're the one who can fix it. The light from before that revealed the demons in the hospital – that's the only thing that can repair the barrier."
"But I don't know how to control it!"
"You're smarter and have far more talent than you give yourself credit for," Ian said. Sweat trickled down his back. "Just feel it. Trust your gut."
Uncertainty flickered in Lydia's eyes, but she nodded. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hands together. Ian watched, holding his breath. Light seeped from her fingers, and when she spread her hands, it roped between her fingers. She cast a petrified look at Ian, then climbed into the pit. The demons increased their screaming; the one ramming the weak spot spat at her. She ignored them, spreading her light over the grid. The flickering pattern grew stronger, brighter.
The door leading to the main part of the restaurant burst open. Demons began streaming in. Ian yelled, grabbing two knives from a prep station, and charged them. If he turned into a dragon in here, he'd crush Lydia. He sliced across the chest of the first one and ducked under its arm to stab one knife through its ribs while he sliced at a second. His fires were burning low in his belly; he'd used up almost all his stock blasting through the floor. There was enough for just one last burst.
