Damnation's Door: A Cursed Book

by Amy Braun

  All the people I’d seen were wearing the same ratty clothes they’d worn before, but they carried themselves differently. Before, it was easy to pick out who was cautious, who was in a gang, and who was scared. Now people seemed to have stopped caring. They were citizens in a city of anarchy. I’d watched from the distance as a group of laughing men with knives chased after a woman wearing shredded clothes. Two shadows behind a curtain in an apartment had moved together in violent passion. A trio of little boys had sat in an alley, dipping their fingers in a red smear on the pavement and using it to paint on a store wall. Choking smoke layered the already pitch black sky. Pockets of street were glowing red from the fires underneath them while the rest were dark.

  I was amazed at how Ciudad Juárez hadn’t just deteriorated. It was destroyed. Even if we closed the Hell Gate, it would take decades to repair the damage. Assuming it ever was. The easier route would be to demolish everything left standing and build over the bad memories.

  In the course of the three weeks we’d been here, we’d seen some pretty terrible things as we moved from street to street, block to block. Atrocities I hadn’t seen since I’d been with the Blood Thorns, doing exactly what they were doing, but getting paid for it.

  Finding out that the Espanis de Sangre were running the city with the demons wasn’t hard. They’d never been a gang to hide in the shadows. They liked being loud, upfront, and memorable in their murders. That had been one of Emilio Rocha’s staples, after all:

  Make them remember you.

  I suppressed the shiver that had been building under my skin. Every memory I had of Emilio ended in fear and pain. Similar ones were attached to his son, Mateo. The depths of his betrayal tainted any trace of happiness and love I felt for him.

  But damned if I didn’t stick to Emilio’s rule. Even now, when I stalked the alleys and looked for information, I grabbed any unsuspecting Blood Thorn I could and punched him for answers. I was good at my work, and everyone knew me. I’d been the only female enforcer for Emilio’s gang, and I had earned my reputation.

  I also got the answers I wanted. I assumed it wouldn’t be long before Mateo found out where I was. We had the kind of relationship that would end with only one of us still breathing. Only three days after we arrived did we start to hear about the mass murders.

  No, ‘mass murder’ were the wrong words. ‘All out slaughter’ fit better.

  We came across the site by mistake. We’d heard the gunshots and seen the flames tearing up the night, and thought it had been a demon attack.

  Until we saw all the humans tearing into each other.

  At first I thought they had been possessed. That was rational, after all. Possessors loved butchering people. But when I had squinted from around the corner, I didn’t see the trademark black eyes that came with possession. They were completely human, and completely insane.

  People of every age and gender, fuelled by carnal rage and bloodlust, raised crude weapons against each other. Kitchen knives held by housewives were painted crimson when they were yanked from the bodies of dying victims. Crowbars and lead pipes smashed into skulls, pulping brain and bone. A doctor pummeled the life from a construction worker. There were some Blood Thorns that strangled unprotected necks, gouged out eyes, gutted bellies with knives. Even now, I could smell the blood that had been painting the brick walls and sandy streets. No matter how long ago it was, you never forget the smell of death. It haunts you just as surely as the sights of butchery do.

  But the worst part had been the smiles. Everyone, whether they were a victim or a killer, had been smiling. Wide, Cheshire smiles with mouths full of blood and broken teeth. The smiles of lunatics and psychopaths.

  I hadn’t understood what it was until we had left the street. We had all been sickened by what we saw, but I was reasoning it out. I was thinking about the street, the buildings surrounding it.

  The slaughter hadn’t been random. It had been a message.

  A message for me.

  I wasn’t sure how, but I knew Mateo was trying to tell me that he knew I was here, that he was going to find me and make his move soon. He was going to tear me apart the same way those people had torn themselves apart.

  The attacks kept happening. Every few days, there would be one pocket of the city that would explode into violence and sin on a level I never thought possible. I caught the pattern soon after– every slaughter site had been a place where I’d been on a run for the Blood Thorns.

  If that wasn’t a memorable message, I didn’t know what was.

  Another knot tied in my stomach. Suddenly I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself.

  “Seph,” I asked the ex-angel. He was standing across from me on the other side of the curtain, watching the opposite end of the street. “These killings, the major ones... Do you think Lucifer is behind them rather than Mateo?”

  Sephiel went very still. Talking about Lucifer always made him tense, and I had to remind myself not to push him. He was human now, and his emotions weren’t so tightly reined anymore. A single snap in battle could get him killed.

  “It is likely they are working in collaboration,” he finally said. “Perhaps Lucifer is feeding Mateo Rocha’s thirst for vengeance, and your former lover is constructing the circumstances for the slaughter. His men are nearly always there, are they not?”

  “Yeah,” I replied, gripping my hatchet tighter as I thought about the bloodstains that would never wash out of cracks in brick and pavement. “They were. But I don’t like how they’re dragging this out. Something isn’t right.”

  “I agree with you,” Sephiel commented. He turned his eyes from the street to me. “I do not know how I can be of more help.”

  I glanced at him. Sephiel was looking tired, rumpled, and a little too human. I couldn’t imagine how hard it was for him to live nearly an eternity as an angel, only to be reduced to a slower, less divine human. He never complained about anything, so I had no idea how he was handling the situation. He had to miss being able to help us the way he used to.

  But if his words were anything to go by, he was desperate to keep going.

  “You’re doing enough,” I told him. “There’s no point in sending you off to shakedown demons. Whatever Lucifer and the Blood Thorns are planning, they’re going to make sure we know about it soon.”

  I looked at the street, but Sephiel was still watching me. “You sound certain.”

  I stilled my hand on my hatchet. “I am.”

  I pushed away from the window and let the curtain fall back into place. The darkness seemed thicker than I remembered.

  “Stay by the window. I’m going to check on Dro and the guys.”

  Sephiel didn’t reply, so I assumed he was going to agree. Deep down, he likely knew that I wasn’t actually going to check on Max and Warrick. It had been too long since me and Dro had talked, and I was sick of this fight we were stuck in.

  After a couple minutes of squinting until my eyes were sore, I made my way up the stairs to the room Max was sharing with Dro. They’d taken the larger master bedroom, since I didn’t care where I slept, and I might have threatened Max with bodily harm if he thought about putting moves on my sister. He’d only flinched once before assuring me he wouldn’t touch Dro that way unless she wanted him to.

  I felt out with my hand and found the door. I rapped on it gently. After a moment, I heard something shifting beyond the wood. Footsteps padded toward the door and it opened inward.

  In the pitch black, I could make out the edges of Dro’s snow-white hair, but it was too dark for me to read her face.

  “Is the power out?” she asked after a long minute.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Can I come in?”

  Another long pause, but she pulled open the door and stepped inside the room. I followed and let her close it behind me. I spotted a crevice of light coming from the curtain on the far side of the room. I hurried for it and pulled it open just enough to look out into the backyard. No one was in it, and there were no othe
r peering faces in the windows of the surrounding houses. Hoping that wouldn’t change, I drew the curtain back so light from the hazy sun could pour into the room.

  Satisfied that we wouldn’t be watched, I turned and sat cross-legged on the floor and looked up at my sister.

  She was still standing by the door, her long braid tumbling over her chest. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, like she was either nauseated or protecting herself. This didn’t bode well for me.

  “You might as well just say it,” I prompted.

  “Say what?” Dro muttered.

  “Whatever it is that’s keeping you five feet away from me.”

  Dro sighed. Her arms circled her elbows. She kept her eyes on the floor. “I don’t want to fight, Con.”

  “Neither do I. That’s why I came here. So sit down and let’s talk.”

  She was reluctant at first, but some of her anger must have melted into guilt, because she crossed the distance between us and sat on the floor across from me. I wished she would look me in the eyes.

  I waited patiently, not willing to make the first move. Yeah, maybe that was cowardly of me, but anything I’d planned to say evaporated the moment I saw the tired rings under her eyes. I didn’t want to drive Dro into more guilt and anger. I just wanted to let her know I was here, and to figure out what was wrong.

  “Why aren’t you letting me help?” Dro whispered.

  “You do help,” I countered.

  “How?” Her temper was beginning to rise. “By giving you a supernatural bandage when one of you is hurt?”

  “And keeping Lucifer off our backs by not broadcasting yourself,” I defended.

  “I’m the only supernatural we have. I’m the only one strong enough to stop Lucifer. You promised to let me fight him on my own.”

  “And you promised me that you wouldn’t strain your powers,” I snapped. Dro’s eyes turned sharp and tense, like the line of her mouth. I took a deep breath and told myself to calm down.

  “Dro, listen to me. Most of your powers are on the demon side now.” I paused, then added, “I can’t help but think that it’s doing something to you.”

  Telling her that didn’t make me feel very spectacular, but the thought must have crossed Dro’s mind. I saw the conflict, the understanding, and then the reluctant acceptance. My little sister swept a hand over her head. Her hair had been braided for about three days now, and pieces of it were starting to fall out of the ties.

  “I know,” she agreed quietly. “But my angel powers aren’t what they used to be, Con.” She bowed her head. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to hear the angels. All I have in my head now is silence, and I’m willing to bet it’s the same for them. If I can’t get used to it, they must be going insane.”

  She could have asked Sephiel to find out, but I didn’t think Dro would be able to bring herself to ask something so personal of a man whose heartache she probably felt responsible for.

  “They’re just going to have to learn to be human. There’s no way around it.”

  Her eyes met mine. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Maybe not, but that’s just the way it is.”

  We sat there in silence for a long time, both thinking about the same thing. The tall, luscious trees of the Heaven Gate, its bubbling streams and crisp air, glowing flowers and comforting warmth.

  The heat of the fire as we burned it to the ground. The screams of Sephiel and Dro as their angel powers were stripped from their souls.

  “Why hasn’t he made a move yet?” she asked suddenly. I looked at my sister. “Lucifer was so angry at us for closing the Heaven Gate right in front of him. He could find me if he really, truly wanted to. But he hasn’t. Why do you think that is?”

  That was a question I wasn’t in the mood to answer, since I didn’t want to know. Beings like Lucifer were too complicated and dangerous to understand. But Dro had a point. He could have shown up at any time and obliterated us. Instead, we were waiting for him to make a move.

  I thought back to the battle we’d been caught in the night we destroyed the Heaven Gate. The angels charging forward to fight the demons spilling out of the portals Lucifer created, despite their rapidly fading powers. The amount of strength Michael had when he started a fight with Lucifer. The way the Devil looked at me before we escaped, his lips mouthing a single, terrifying promise:

  I will destroy you.

  “We’ll worry about it when we cross paths again. He won’t sit back if we walk up to the Hell Gate and shut it.” I shrugged, “Who knows, maybe he’ll even disappear once we close the Gate.”

  I wouldn’t have been so stupidly optimistic if my sister hadn’t needed to hear it.

  She didn’t believe my statement anymore than I did, but the ghost of a smile crossed her face. I didn’t like how weary and depressed it made her look.

  “That would be nice and simple, wouldn’t it?” The smile widened a little more, then faded away.

  “Con, I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been myself lately, and you didn’t want to come back here. I just... I wasn’t thinking, because I’m tired of this. I’m tired of being afraid and running all the time. I just want it to be over.”

  I couldn’t fault her for that, since it was exactly what I wanted too. It had been so long since I’d felt true safety. Sleeping under a roof or having dinner with my sister or being held by Warrick never took away the stress and panic. It merely dulled it. I was ready to leave it all behind, to remember what it meant to feel alive instead of lucky to be breathing.

  If wishes were horses...

  “Are we okay?”

  Dro’s voice was tentative, as if she didn’t think I would say yes. Truthfully, I could have kicked myself for the bit of hesitation I showed. Dro was a good sister and she would never hurt me, but I hoped she would see that her demon blood was making her slightly aggressive, something she had never willingly been. I knew my sister was growing stronger in every way, but there was a difference between her arguing with me and threatening to immolate a dying man.

  “Yeah,” I said, shoving the memory of the man she’d tried to interrogate into the back of my mind. “You just have to control yourself. Don’t use your powers unless we’re seconds away from dying.”

  “Or if Lucifer shows up.”

  I bit my tongue. “Or if Lucifer shows up,” I mumbled. I hated that promise.

  Dro looked at the floor. “Thanks for looking out for me, big sister. I know I’m not... easy.”

  I reached over to take and squeeze her hand. “You’re fine, Dro. You always were.”

  She nodded, but didn’t smile. “I’m gonna go find some food. Max is awake and moving around, so he’s probably hungry.”

  I stifled a laugh and let her get to her feet. Dro walked to the door in the dark, then stopped and half-turned back to me.

  “I miss being part angel,” she confessed. “It made me feel like a good person.”

  Before I could tell her she was the best kind of person in the world, she turned and walked out of the room. Dro had never thought very highly of herself, which was something I would have given anything to change. Yet as much as I loved her, I couldn’t help but think that Dro’s change would make her into something neither of us wanted her to be.

  Chapter 5

  The rest of the day passed without incident. The power didn’t come back on, so we decided to stay in the house for a little longer and move to another one when it was dark. We’d been fortunate in choosing a block of houses that had been mostly empty. Downtown seemed to be the most dangerous area, but I wasn’t expecting to go back there any time soon.

  Then again, I had a bad habit of expecting anything to go the way I wanted it to...

  “I don’t get it,” I said for the third time, my eyes flicking over the box of black hair dye. “It says it’s supposed to be permanent. Why the hell isn’t it holding?”

  Dro looked at me from the motel’s bathroom door, rubbing the strands of her pale hair. The hotel towel was greas
y and black, completely ruined from the hair dye that leeched onto it.

  “I dunno,” she muttered, sounding almost guilty. “But maybe we should stop trying. I don’t think we can change how I look.”

  I sighed and roughly threw the empty dye box into the trashcan by the table. It hit the other five hair dye boxes and tumbled onto the stained carpet. I sighed and flopped down on the bed, running a hand over my face. Dro put the towel into the bathtub and came into the room to sit down on the bed beside me.