Doomsday Can Wait

by Lori Handeland

  That made two of us.

  She landed on the far side of the gun, which lay about halfway between us. With my vampire speed I snatched the thing before she could slither in its direction, then pressed the muzzle to her temple.

  The woman of smoke froze; her burning black eyes rolled up to mine, and she sneered. “Go ahead.”

  My finger twitched. The idea of blowing her brains to kingdom come was so damn appealing, but something stopped me. Probably the smirk lurking beneath her sneer.

  “You’ll just heal,” I murmured, and tossed the gun far, far away.

  The smirk bloomed. “I can heal anything.”

  “Heal this,” I said, and pulled a Jimmy—tore her apart like the wishbone on a chicken.

  I could never have done it if I’d remained human. Not only the lack of strength but the yuck factor. However, in my present state, I found the spray of blood exquisite.

  The temptation to let it wash over me, feel the heat and the life and the energy against my skin, was nearly overwhelming. I probably would have done it, except the body stood up and reached for me.

  “Oh, come on!” I stumbled back, and what was left of the woman of smoke followed.

  “Give me my head.”

  I glanced down. I still held the skull in one hand, and it was talking. My life was a Tim Burton movie.

  The body kept coming; the hands weren’t reaching for me but for the severed head. Once retrieved, would they then set it back on the gushing neck, and would the wound heal?

  “How do I end her?” I muttered, my mind grasping for every detail I’d heard, everything that I’d learned.

  She no longer possessed any magic; all she had left was the spirit of evil. There’d been something, somewhere about evil.

  The truth hit me like a spotlight. The memory of what I’d seen in Sawyer’s dream when I’d walked there—words the shade of fresh blood splayed across the pristine white ceiling.

  “Toss evil to the four winds,” I whispered.

  “No!” shrieked the woman of smoke.

  Which made tossing seem like a helluva good idea.

  I threw the still screaming head to the north with all of my strength, then finished the job by sending the arms to the east, the legs to the west, and the rest down south.

  Welcome silence settled over the mountain, but it didn’t last. At first I thought she was coming back, because the shrieking that had faded to nothing as the woman of smoke was carried away on the four winds got louder and louder until it surrounded me. An ocean of sound blaring in my too sensitive ears, driving me to the ground with my hands pressed to my head.

  Even though my eyes were closed, I felt the light-dark, light-dark flickers across my face and forced myself to look at the moon.

  Ghostly shadows pranced across the surface too quickly for me to determine what they were.

  “That can’t be good,” I murmured, even as something inside of me rejoiced and whispered: They are free.

  CHAPTER 34

  The sun shining across my face woke me. Or maybe it was the sensation of being watched. Because I opened my eyes to discover myself surrounded.

  I snarled and did a backflip, landing in a crouch. A growl rumbled low in my throat. All that goodness made my head ache.

  In the bright light of morning, the colors of the world seemed epic. The jewels on the collar in Sawyer’s hand nearly blinded me.

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  The kid—Luther, I remembered—appeared horrified. I lifted my top lip and gave him a good view of my fangs, then found myself distracted by the throbbing vein in his neck. I could hear every one of their hearts beating; the swish of blood through their veins was a seductive whisper. I took a step forward and Jimmy blocked my way.

  “She’s gone vamp,” he said, his voice so full of pain I breathed in. I could almost taste his tears.

  “You said we could fix her,” Luther whispered.

  Mmm. The tremble in his voice, the fear on the wind.

  “Not fix,” Sawyer murmured. “At least not yet.”

  “Put the collar on her,” Summer ordered. “Otherwise she’s going to do to us what she did to the woman of smoke.”

  I remembered the geyser of blood. I wanted to see that again. My gaze crept over the four of them.

  “Eenie, meenie, minee, mo,” I whispered, and lunged at the fairy.

  Sawyer’s hand flicked out and sent me flying backward so hard my head thunked against the ground.

  “Oh, God,” Jimmy murmured.

  “Quit whining,” Sawyer ordered. “What’s done is done. We have to move forward. Give me a hand.”

  My legs were pinned, so were my arms. I shrieked my fury to the sky, and in the distance, something answered. Sawyer cursed softly.

  I could have taken every one of them separately. But together they were stronger, which only made me snarl and slaver and buck against the restraints.

  I snapped at Sawyer’s hands as he slid the collar around my neck. He smacked me in the nose like a bad dog, and my eyes watered. As soon as the latch clicked shut, I stilled.

  Sawyer’s eyes met mine. “Better?”

  I nodded, and they released me, then backed up so fast I winced. Both at their reactions and at the memory of what I’d said and done and been.

  I needed a shower, a scrub brush, and about a pound of soap. The woman of smoke’s blood was speckled all over me; my hands and forearms appeared painted sienna, and the crust under my nails was so thick it felt as if I’d been digging in a garden for days.

  A pile of clothes lay at my feet. I donned them quickly, no longer comfortable with my nakedness, even though fifty percent of the people here had seen it all before.

  The shirt—BLACK SABBATH REUNION TOUR, ha-ha—was obviously Sanducci’s, but someone had gone through my bag and found my last pair of clean underwear and shorts.

  I glanced at Jimmy, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Luther sensed as if he expected me to attack him at any second. Summer wanted to slug me. We still had that in common. Only Sawyer appeared the same as when I’d last seen him.

  My fingers brushed the collar. “What’s this?”

  “Bespelled,” Sawyer answered. “While you wear it, you’re you.”

  I lifted my hand, touched my teeth. The fangs were gore, along with the desire to tear out everyone’s throat. But I didn’t think I was me. Deep down inside, the demon still howled.

  “Whose spell?” I asked, and Summer raised her hand. “You had to bespell a dog collar? Wouldn’t the magic work just fine on a nice silver chain?”

  Her lips curved. “Where would be the fun in that?”

  I almost smiled back, and then I remembered the shrieking in the night, the strange flickers across the face of the moon, the roar in the distance in answer to my call.

  “What happened?” Sawyer asked.

  “I kicked her ass, then tossed her in pieces to the four winds.”

  Sawyer frowned. “That’s an old Navajo saying.”

  “Which I got from an old Navajo.”

  His brow lifted and I shrugged. “Dream-walk world.”

  “Interesting,” he murmured. “I always thought it was a proverb. Merely a short pithy way to tell the Diné how to live a good life.” He flicked his hand toward the sky. “Figuratively, we must toss evil away.”

  “Worked pretty well literally, too.”

  “Fascinating,” Sawyer said. “You found that old proverb in my head, and you didn’t even know you would need it.”

  “Yeah, worked out great.” I really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. While I’d enjoyed the blood flow last night, this morning it was making me kind of ill.

  “Once you tossed her,” Summer interjected, “then what happened?”

  They are free.

  “Something got out.”

  Sawyer, Summer, and Jimmy exchanged glances. Luther had wandered off to peer at the dark patch of earth where I’d spilled the blood of the Naye’i. That probably wasn’t hea
lthy.

  “Kid,” I muttered. “Come back here.”

  Luther seemed like he wanted to tell me to kiss off. Instead he shrugged and strolled to Summer’s side, where she took his hand. I frowned at the gesture, but it seemed more about comfort than anything else so I let it pass.

  “What’s free?” I asked.

  “The Grigori,” Sawyer said.

  I opened my mouth to drop the F-bomb, caught a glimpse of Luther’s face, and bit my lip instead. “That’s impossible.”

  “Not according to Ruthie.”

  “Ruthie?” I racked my brain; I couldn’t recall talking to her lately. But since the entire night between the death of the Naye’i and waking up this morning was a blank, who knew?

  “Did I—”

  “No,” Sawyer answered. “You probably won’t be hearing from her for a while.”

  “Because?”

  “She’s in heaven. No demons allowed.”

  Now I did drop the F-bomb. Couldn’t help it. “Get this thing out of me.”

  “Baby—” Jimmy began, and I flicked him an evil glare, which he didn’t see because he still couldn’t look at me. “There’s no getting rid of it.”

  “Confine it, refine it. Whatever Summer did to you, she can do to me.”

  The fairy choked.

  I glanced at her and knew why. “It’s a sex spell.”

  She shrugged. “You told me to do anything.”

  I was so sick of hearing that.

  “Fine. Sawyer can do it.”

  “No,” he said.

  “No? You never had a problem before.”

  He sighed. “Ruthie doesn’t want that.”

  “You seem to be pretty up on what Ruthie wants. She been talkin’ to you?”

  Sawyer shook his head, so did Summer, even Jimmy twitched—left, right—without ever meeting my eyes. Luther nodded.

  My brows lifted. An interesting development. “What did she say?”

  Luther opened his mouth, and Ruthie’s voice came out. “Gates of hell done flew open, girl. Trouble ain’t comin’; trouble’s here.”

  “That’s just creepy,” I murmured.

  Not only did the boy sound like Ruthie, but he now moved like her, too. Hand gestures, head tilts, even his eyes had darkened from gold to brown, or perhaps that was just the shadow of the sun across the mountain. Though I didn’t think so.

  “He’s the most accomplished channeler I’ve ever seen,” Sawyer said.

  Channeling, a way to talk to the dead. Some people, like me, went to them. Others, like Luther apparently, allowed the dead to speak through them.

  “Could he do that before yesterday?” I asked.

  Sawyer spread his hands.

  “Lizbeth!” Ruthie-Luther snapped. “The demons are free, and these are worse than anything that’s been on this earth since the fall.”

  “How’d they get free?” I asked. “I killed the darkness. Everything should go back to normal.”

  “Normal.” Ruthie snorted. “What’s that? You’re gonna have to find the book.”

  “Key of Solomon?”

  Ruthie-Luther shook her-his head. “The key says, kill the darkness, all is well. But it ain’t. We’re gonna have to get a peek at the other side.”

  “Terrific,” I muttered.

  “And you’re gonna have to stay evil.”

  “Excuse me?” I tugged at the collar, which was driving me nuts.

  “The only way to fight the Grigori is with a darkness as complete as they are. You and Jimmy are our only hope.”

  “Jimmy’s got his demon all pushed beneath the moon. Is he supposed to let it back out?”

  “No,” Jimmy said, at the same time Ruthie murmured, “Yes.”

  Crap.

  “It has to be done,” Ruthie-Luther said. “And you know it.”

  I glanced uneasily at Jimmy, who continued to stare at the desert below us.

  “He’s already broken,” Summer muttered. “What’s one more slap when you’re down?”

  They were both right. It had to be done, and he was already broken.

  I sighed and turned my attention back to Ruthie-Luther. “When we’re—” I made my fingers into claws and hissed. “We aren’t exactly on the side of justice.”

  “But you are on the hunt. Summer and Sawyer will use their magic to unleash your power in the right direction.”

  “Unleash,” I repeated. “Like a damn dog.”

  “Hence the collar,” Summer murmured.

  “I think I’m the kind of dog who turns on its master.”

  “Lucky I’m not going to be holding your leash.”

  Sawyer would.

  I turned to him. “Did you know your mo—” I broke off. “The Naye’i’s name was Lilith?”

  He shook his head.

  “I don’t think she was the Lilith,” I murmured.

  “No,” Ruthie-Luther said, “She was just a Lilith. Storm demon. She ruled the night and the wind; she rode the rain. There’s a Lilith demon in every culture.”

  “There are more like her out there?”

  “Of course.”

  “Double bleeding hell,” I muttered.

  “I’m hungry.” Luther’s voice was once again his own.

  “Let’s head back to Summer’s place,” Sawyer said.

  We began to walk in that direction, except for Jimmy. He continued to face away from us as if he didn’t even know we were there.

  I paused. “We’ll be down soon.”

  “I don’t—” Summer began, but Sawyer silenced her with a glare. She stomped off, her cowboy boots raising angry puffs of dust around her feet. With a shrug, Luther followed.

  Sawyer hung back. “Will you be all right?”

  “As long as I wear this.” I fingered the collar.

  His gaze flicked to Jimmy, then to me. “Don’t let him make you feel guilty. It was the only way.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “This from the man who tried to convince me to let everyone rot.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t.”

  Sometimes I thought Sawyer knew me better than I knew myself.

  Sawyer followed the others, and I turned to Jimmy. Was he ever going to forgive me? Hopefully quicker than I’d forgiven him.

  I crossed the pebbled ground, ignoring the pain in my bare feet, and stood right behind him. Below us, Summer’s place was once again an Irish cottage. Her spring-green lawn was peppered with stone statues of gargoyles. I suspected they’d stay that way until the demons were no longer in residence.

  “I—” I stopped, uncertain what to say. Not sorry. Because I wasn’t.

  “I asked you not to, Lizzy. I begged you.”

  I’d been there. I knew what had happened.

  “You let me turn you evil for nothing.”

  My head came up. “Not for nothing.”

  He turned, his face furious, and his eyes so damn sad. “The Grigori are loose. What good did it do?”

  “The woman of smoke is dead.”

  “You heard Ruthie. There are more just like her.”

  I’d heard Ruthie, but I still didn’t think there was anything quite like Lilith around. “She needed to die.”

  And I was the only one who could kill her.

  “You betrayed my trust, Lizzy.”

  “Then we’re even.”

  “Baby,” he murmured, “even is something we can never be. “

  I guessed he was going to be as forgiving about my betrayal as I’d been about his. That hurt, but I deserved it.

  “You don’t understand what you’ve done,” he said. “There’ll be consequences.”

  “There always are.”

  “Not like this.”

  He looked so haggard, so beaten down and sad, I wasn’t sure what to do, except what I did best. Move on.

  “Are you going to come back with me?” I asked.

  Or will I have to make you? I thought.

  His gaze was drawn in the direction of that strange howling that had earlier answered
my furious call. There was something out there. A whole lot of somethings.

  “Yeah,” Jimmy said. “I’m coming.”

  The job was what mattered; Jimmy had known that long before I had.

  “But I’m starting to think that—”

  His voice faded; what I saw in his face scared me. I stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. What he hadn’t said whispered through my mind and came straight out of my mouth.

  “No matter what we do,” I murmured. “Apocalypse happens.”