Damnation's Door: A Cursed Book

by Amy Braun

  He stared, reaching inside his long white coat. “Perhaps this will.”

  The angel pulled out a slender golden tube inscribed with words I couldn’t read. A movens caeli, the tool the Heavenly Host would use to transport a large amount of soldiers to anywhere they wanted. The same tool our old friend/enemy Rorikel had given us so we could escape the battle at the Heaven Gate.

  Why was he showing it to us?

  The angel turned his back to me to look at Sephiel. “Is it truly your mission to destroy the Hell Gate?”

  Sephiel looked directly into his eyes, as if there was nowhere else to look. “Yes, Raphael. It is.”

  Raphael. As in the archangel, one of the most powerful of Michael’s generals. Shit.

  But if he was on Michael’s side, what was he doing down here with the movens caeli, and why was he asking about our goal?

  Raphael dropped his head to his chest. “He does not understand,” he whispered so low I barely heard him. “He does not understand that the rest of us continue to lose our powers. Our soldiers have martial skill and nothing more. We cannot combat Lucifer as Michael expects. Some of us no longer want to.”

  This time he turned so he could look at all of us. “Some of us have seen past our rage to accept the truth. We cannot return to Heaven through any gate but Saint Peter’s. And though we could seek vengeance for that,” he directed this to Dro, “it would achieve nothing. Our only hope remains to sever the connection of the Hell Gate, and force Lucifer back into his domain.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “How do we stop him?” I asked in a rush.

  I was hoping for a quick, simple answer that would involve me stabbing Lucifer, but from the heavy look Raphael gave me, it wasn’t going to be that easy.

  “When he Fell and was locked in Hell, the archangels operated under the belief that he would never be able to return to Earth. We never imagined he would use blood magic to create demons, or that he would gain human followers with enough strength to summon him.”

  I grimaced, remembering how powerful Isabel, the witch who brought Lucifer from Hell and murdered my father, had been. I recalled how Mateo had been eager and willing to sell his soul to have his dreams turn into reality– a successful, untouchable reign over the crime world, and complete devotion and love from me.

  All he had to do was give up my sister.

  Neither Isabel’s nor Mateo’s plans had gone in their favor.

  “Tell me he can’t give humans his powers,” I gritted out.

  “No,” Raphael answered, offering me at least one consolation. “To manipulate humans and grant them gifts while they are on Earth takes a great deal of power, and it is rarely done. In Hell, Lucifer and his demons are invincible. Anything that bears his blood there cannot be killed. But since Lucifer does not control the mortal realm, his powers are slightly weaker, and his creations can be destroyed. When the Hell Gate was opened, Michael sent some scouts to assess the potency of its power.” Raphael’s jaw was set tight. “The last survivor informed us that Lucifer spent those first few months binding his essence to the Hell Gate, drawing on the power that leaked from Hell into Earth. It strengthens his abilities here, as well as the strength of his demons.

  “Lucifer cannot be killed while the Hell Gate powers him. He is far too powerful with it. Even Michael is not strong enough to stop him, though he refuses to see as such. However, if the Hell Gate is closed, Lucifer and all the demons he has tied to him with blood magic will be forced to return to the Pit from whence they came.”

  I frowned. “He can’t do anything convenient, like die?”

  Raphael’s grin was weak and mirthless. “Unfortunately, no. While demons continue to escape Hell at alarming rates, many remain behind the Gate. As long as they live, so does Lucifer. Yet, considering how much energy it is taking for him to hold the Gate open, closing it will be a grievous blow. Akin to him losing an arm. Such a loss of power would force him back into Hell to recuperate, and with the angels locked in Heaven or losing their powers on Earth, he would not be able to create another hybrid and repeat his ritual. He would remain in Hell until the End of Days.”

  That sounded both perfect and amazing, especially the part about Lucifer never being able to re-emerge from Hell again and metaphorically losing an arm (I enjoyed that imagine a little too much, to be honest), but a bolt of panic rushed through my brain. If we shut the Hell Gate, did that mean Dro would be taken too? No matter how many times I tried to tell myself otherwise, she had a blood tie to Lucifer. If closing the Hell Gate stripped away a piece of her as closing the Heaven Gate had, would she survive?

  Before I could ask that vital question, Raphael continued with information overload.

  “You have heard of these sprees of violence and debauchery,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It was hard to miss it when the streets were painted with blood.

  “They are being caused superficially.”

  I was so stunned that I was sure I’d misheard him.

  “What?” Warrick asked in my stead.

  “To sustain his hold on it, Lucifer has a Key to Hell,” Raphael explained. “The Gate is this place,” he waved a hand in the air, indicating the crumbling city above us rather than the stuffy cellar we were held in.

  The Hell Gate was an entire place, just as the Heaven Gate had been. Somehow, I didn’t think that we’d be able to burn the city down to erase it from the earth. Even if we could, I didn’t think I would be able to. Unlike the Heaven Gate, Ciudad Juárez was teeming with people. I was capable of some pretty awful things if I was pushed, but razing an entire city of people wasn’t one of them. Even if doing so meant I would protect the rest of the world from Lucifer and his madness.

  Raphael started walking behind Sephiel. He put the movens caeli in the ex-angel’s lap, then began unbinding his wrists from the chair.

  “We began obtaining information on Lucifer’s plan upon our arrival,” Raphael went on. “Through… unseemly methods, we discovered that Lucifer has shattered a physical Key, likely made from his own blood, since each fragment contains a piece of the Hell Gate’s power. Destroying all the fragments, and therefore the Key, shall weaken Lucifer and force him back into Hell, locking the door behind him.”

  For once, I was glad that angels had to resort to torture to get their answers. They had gotten more information than I ever expected them to get.

  “How does this connect to the murder sprees?” I asked.

  Raphael had set Sephiel free from the chair and was moving onto Max.

  “The fragments must be activated by a soul. Lucifer does not have one, and this kind of dark magic requires the corruption of a powerful spiritual force. They are placed inside a living carrier to keep the Gate open. The fragment causes uncontrollable behavior. The closer the carrier is to sinners, the more violent they become. This in turn amplifies the violence to those who do not carry a fragment.”

  “So it’s a symbiotic relationship,” Warrick simplified, rising to his feet and rubbing his wrists when Raphael released him. “One of them feeds the other.”

  “Precisely. It is a magic that consumes its host entirely. Its effect is far more dangerous, and I fear we cannot obtain the Key without being corrupted ourselves.”

  “So will it corrupt you if you touch it?” I asked when Raphael moved behind me and began untying me from the chair. I was stiff, not trusting him to be so close to me, but I focused on getting more information rather than how many different ways I could punch him.

  “I am not sure,” he answered. “No one has ever successfully removed a fragment from a living specimen. I am under the assumption that the carrier would need to be incapacitated to ensure the fragment’s removal.”

  Meaning that killing these carriers was probably the best way of getting a fragment out. It was certainly the easiest way.

  “You certainly have a lot of information about this,” I said warily, shooting up from my chair so I could face Raphael.

  He loomed over me, but there was n
o aggression in his eyes. He seemed tired, his shoulders slumped way lower than they’d been when he first came downstairs.

  “To obtain it, we were forced to do things. Things that Michael commanded us to do, but they have not eased our minds. They were... unpleasant.”

  Sounds like an understatement, I thought.

  “Where do we find these people?” I asked. When Raphael didn’t move to free Dro, I went to the back of her chair to do it myself. “The fragment carriers.”

  “This I do not know,” Raphael admitted. “We checked every body we could once we discovered the massacres, but we found nothing. It is likely the carriers retreated before they could die, or the fragment was taken by another.”

  “What I don’t get is why the attacks don’t happen all the time,” Max said while I stepped back from Dro’s chair and let her get to her feet. “I mean, if these people have a literal wildcard in their body, why aren’t they playing it all the time? These massacres should be happening on every corner.”

  I thought back to encountering Drake only days ago, and had a very uncomfortable idea.

  “Maybe they’re being hidden, and under orders.”

  All eyes went to me. I folded my arms over my chest. “Drake said he was looking for something in that store. Maybe he was looking for a fragment. Maybe he’s a fucking carrier himself.”

  Warrick’s eyes darkened with rage. Max’s expression was grim, but more with anxiety than anger.

  “I fear that with Lucifer, anything is possible,” Sephiel said icily.

  “Regardless, you must find these fragments and stop Lucifer by closing the Hell Gate.”

  I turned to Raphael. “I take it you’re not going to be lending a hand.”

  Raphael almost smiled at my snarky proposition. It would have felt more real if his eyes weren’t so sad.

  “I fear I cannot be of any more assistance. It shall be challenging enough to explain that you overcame me and escaped.” The Not Smile vanished all together. “Michael has been focusing on his efforts on locating Lucifer and destroying him once and for all.” Finally, he looked at my sister. “It is why he was prepared to bait you. Normally, I would not be adverse to his idea, but all of us following him have grown weary. We have seen the destruction he has wrought, and we no longer believe we are strong enough to defeat Lucifer. Not when we are assured that we can never return home.”

  That was what it boiled down to. The only reason Raphael was helping us was because the Heaven Gate was locked for good. If it hadn’t been, Sephiel would have been ruthlessly punished, and Dro would have been killed.

  We had made an ally here, but not a reliable one and certainly not a friend. I wasn’t sure if we’d gotten a short-term blessing or a long-term curse.

  Raphael stalked through the chairs toward Sephiel. He placed his hand on the auburn-haired man’s shoulder.

  “The others shall not inform you, but I believe you ought to know. Rorikel is dead.”

  We all fell silent at that, but Sephiel looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.

  “How? When?” was all he could breathe out.

  “Lucifer saw him help you escape at the Heaven Gate. His rage was catastrophic.”

  Sephiel dropped his head. There had to be more details about the death of Sephiel’s former partner, but Sephiel didn’t need to hear them. We all knew what Lucifer could do when he was mildly annoyed. Nothing and no one would be able to escape him if his rage was “catastrophic.”

  I thought about Rorikel. Pale eyed and cranky as hell, we’d never gotten along with the uptight bastard. He had been committed to protecting Dro in the beginning, but his disdain for humans– and me in particular– had been about as bare as the skin on a nude beach. Rorikel thought all humans were bound to sin, and he’d been a huge supporter of Heaven’s plan. The moment he learned what Dro really was, he went from crotchety asshole to cold-hearted assassin.

  But then he saved us at the Heaven Gate. I never knew why Rorikel chose to save us, and now I never would. I hadn’t liked the son of a bitch any more than he’d liked me, but now I felt guilty for hating him, and I would never have the chance to thank him for what he did for us.

  “You must leave now,” Raphael said, stepping back from Sephiel. He walked over to a wine barrel in the corner and pried off the lid. He reached inside and brought out all of our weapons. I practically jumped for joy when I took my hatchet from Raphael’s hands.

  Once we had all of our belongings intact, we formed a circle. Sephiel took control of the movens caeli, his head still bowed down. While he began to manipulate the device, Raphael put his hand on my shoulder.

  I jumped under his touch and started baring my teeth. Raphael wisely stepped back. “You must make it seem as though I was attacked,” he informed. “It shall make the story of your escape easier to believe.”

  I stepped out of the circle and shook out my hands. “You sure about this?”

  Raphael smiled weakly. “It is not the first time I have received pain in combat.”

  “I meant about lying to Michael.”

  That caused Raphael’s grin to falter. He sighed. “If there was a way to convince him to join forces with you, I would have found it. But since losing Gabriel and his powers, he has not been in his proper mind. He is filled with venom and hate, though I cannot tell if it is due to his loss of power, or the influence of this city.”

  Since he seemed to know a lot about what was going on, I was willing to bet he knew the truth, but didn’t want to admit it. That was fair. I wouldn’t want to admit to either truth if I was him.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t let you think about it too long.”

  I punched him in the face, not caring if he was ready or not. If he wanted to sell this, I would deliver a premiere product. It took another two punches to the head and one solid kick to the temple before Raphael collapsed into a heap on the ground.

  I stared down at him, feeling a twinge of guilt. This could all be a ruse, a trick planted by Michael, but then I recalled the sadness in Raphael’s eyes. He wanted this over as much as I did. He was willing to let himself be beaten if it meant he could live the rest of his life on earth, die on earth, and return to another realm of Heaven.

  Leaving the archangel behind, I took my place in the circle between Dro and Warrick. I glanced at Sephiel across from me. His shoulders were slouched, his hair was limp, and the dark circles under his eyes were trimmed with red. I hadn’t known how close he was to Rorikel. They never really seemed like friends, and they’d betrayed each other when Sephiel chose to help Dro instead of siding with Rorikel and Heaven. But I had never asked about their lives before us. For all I knew, Rorikel could have been Sephiel’s best friend.

  Seeing all that barely hidden emotion suddenly reminded me of how human Sephiel had become.

  Without another word, Sephiel unscrewed the top of the movens caeli. The world exploded into thunderous golden light. Our bodies were yanked into the light, rocketing us from the cellar to somewhere else in this Hell on earth.

  Chapter 9

  While I’d been punching up Raphael, Dro had directed Sephiel to a now abandoned, family owned taco restaurant. When we’d been living on the streets, restaurants had been my favorite places to raid. They always threw out unwanted, but perfectly edible food. I’d picked through the garbage, stolen unattended plates from the windowsill, had even broken into this particular restaurant once after they locked up to take an armful of food from their fridge.

  Even now, I could remember the taste of their home-cooked food. The juicy pulled pork, hearty beans and rice, crunchy corn and spicy pico de gallo, all wrapped up in a warm, soft tortilla.

  My stomach reminded me how hungry it was, letting out a quiet snarl, but there was nothing to eat in the restaurant now. That was plain to see, since all the chairs and tables had been removed or taken outside. Broken glass covered the floor. Wallpaper had been stripped from its place, revealing cracked grey drywall. The air smell stale and
old, and there wasn’t a scrap of food left in the fridge.

  While the guys looked for anything salvageable, I wandered to a booth in the corner, the only one that hadn’t been ripped off the wall. Most of the leather had been peeled away, but I needed to sit down. At this point I didn’t care if I was going to get a splinter in the ass.

  I put my face in my hands and started running my hands through my hair. My moment of solitude was quickly interrupted when Dro took the seat across from me, placing her hands on her lap. She lowered her head, and I didn’t try to start a conversation with her either. I wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t know that I heard her conversation with Max, that she believed she was going to kill me.

  To be honest, it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have either.

  “He didn’t want to touch me,” Dro finally said.