by Frost, L. L.
Victor Hesse smacks his palms together, brushing away the dust as he steps forward, his voice conversational. “Witch, won’t you drain more of that nasty magic out of my creation? Or have you already expended your usefulness?”
Jax freezes, his hands hovering over me, unable to help and unwilling to run. I whimper with pain as the net sinks beneath my skin and meat to find my bones.
Desperate, I open myself to the agony, flinging my senses wide. This was my magic originally, it just needs to return to its original form. But it struggles against me. I let it go, let its purpose be changed, and it doesn’t want to be tamed again.
The click of a gun being reloaded sounds, and Victor Hesse turns to Gavin. “I’m going to enjoy eating you, piece-by-piece. I’ve gotten very good at keeping my meals alive during the process. If I’m patient, we could be together for years to come. If I’m very patient, I’ll even leave you your eyes so you can watch the world burn.”
In answer, Gavin unloads his gun once more, straight into the center of Victor Hesse’s chest.
The mortifer demon stumbles back a pace, the impact stalling him while the bullets bounce off and ping to the floor like metal rain. He sweeps his hand forward, and something red flashes from his palm.
A string of black slime whips out to wrap around Gavin’s throat. The detective crashes to the floor, his weapon falling from his hands as he scrambles to stop the slime from choking him.
“Adie, what do we do,” Jax whispers, desperation in his voice.
“Run,” I plead, my voice thick with pain. “Just run.”
Jax doesn’t run, though. He wraps his arms around my pain-filled body and drags me toward the kitchen.
Victor Hesse cocks his head to the side, the skull that covers his face giving him the appearance of a grotesquely curious bird. “Where are you going with my prize, witch?”
Not answering, Jax continues backward, Victor Hesse following us at a slow pace like some sort of movie monster. I kick my feet weakly, trying to help as we slide past the two-way door.
Jax releases me to lock the door in place before he frantically pulls his cell phone from his pocket, his fingers fumbling on the screen.
The door rattles, and I hold my breath, waiting for another explosion.
Instead, clattering comes from the other room, and Victor Hesse pokes his head through the pass-through over the decorating station. “This is getting tiresome, witch.”
I push back across the floor, pain shooting through me with every inch, until my back comes up against the newly installed ovens. My heart pounds, flooding my body with adrenaline as Victor Hesse slithers through the opening in the wall, his heels coming down hard on the plates waiting to be filled with desserts. They shatter beneath his weight, pieces falling to smash against the floor. He hops down, then lifts an arm to block the sheet pan Jax swings at him.
With a deft snap of his wrist, the mortifer demon catches the edge of the pan and shoves it at Jax’s face. It slams into his forehead, and the witch crumples to the ground, unconscious.
The net around me vanishes, leaving pain and weakness behind. I scramble for power, any shred of energy left to me, but find only the ley line magic I don’t know how to use.
Victor Hesse brushes imaginary lint off the outside of his duster as he steps toward me. “It was a good effort, but it’s time to admit defeat. You’re mine, now, and we will do such magnificent things together.”
Growling, I lift my trembling arms, my blunt fingers hooked like claws.
He chuckles as he bends over me, his arms spread wide as if to welcome me home.
Behind him, a small, hairy figure steps out of the shadows between the mixing station and the wall, his hands cupped around something that flickers like fire. Relief sweeps through me to see that Vova and Torch are okay, even as the rest of the world crashes down.
Victor Hesse pauses, his hands inches from my skin. “Why are you suddenly happy?”
I lift my gaze to stare into his horrifying mask. “You could never understand.”
Vova runs forward and flings his hands outward, launching Torch through the air. As he flies, his fire changes from red, to orange, to dazzling white.
He lands on Victor Hesse’s shoulder, and the feathers around his collar ignite as if fueled by acetone. He shrieks and jerks upright, slapping at the fire as Torch races across his shoulders, spreading the flames into his mask.
Victor Hesse shrieks, grabbing at the skull as fire shoots from the eyes and nose holes. He catches Torch, throwing the small ignis demon toward the sink before he rips the skull from his head and throws it aside to display skin blackened to charcoal, his hair melted to his skull. Flinging off his trench coat, he slaps out the few flames that made it to his shirt beneath.
He draws in ragged breaths through clenched teeth as he turns back to face me. “Now that was exciting.”
A loud crack vibrates through the kitchen, and Victor Hesse’s head snaps to the side, surprise registering in his eyes before he falls to the ground and disintegrates.
Looks like the third time’s the charm when it comes to killing the mortifer demon.
Shocked, I stare at where Detective Sharpe who leans through the pass-through, his gun once more in his hand.
Black slime coats his throat and the collar of his shirt, and his dark hair sticks up in every direction. But his eyes remain calm as he keeps his weapon trained on the spot where Victor Hesse had stood. “Is he gone? Or is this like a horror movie where I have to kill him five more times?”
“He’s back on the demon plane, for now.” I drop my head back to rest against the oven behind me. “How long he remains there is questionable, though.”
Gavin curses and holsters his gun before climbing through the narrow opening with far less grace than Victor Hesse had displayed. His foot slips on the broken serving trays, and he holds onto the sill for balance as he steps down to the floor.
He strides over to Jax first, checking the witch for a pulse, before he comes to kneel in front of me.
His brows pinch together. “How are you doing?”
“I feel like shit,” I groan.
“You look like shit.” He frowns as his gaze sweeps over me. “Well, not like shit, actually. But that’s probably due to you being a…succubus?” He waits for my nod. “Objectively speaking, you’re somewhere between sexy orphan and mud-wrestling nympho.”
My brows shoot up. “Know a lot of mud-wrestling nymphos?”
His serious gaze meets mine. “Arrested one a couple of times.”
“Nymphos rarely learn their lesson,” I say drily.
His lips twist with annoyance. “I think being arrested is part of the appeal.”
“Must be Vicki.”
Surprise widens his eyes. “You know Vicki?”
“Everyone knows Vicki.” I shift and groan. “She’s a bit of a legend among my kind.”
“Huh.” His eyes move once more to where Victor Hesse had stood. “Not that I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth, but why did shooting him work this time?”
I lift one shoulder, then grunt as the motion sends pain shooting through me. Note to self: no more stepping in front of magical nets. “The outfit must have been what was shielding him.” I nudge the skull with my foot. “Probably cast some twisted barrier spells on it. Once it was off, it left him vulnerable.”
Gavin stares at the skull and the smoking remains of the trench coat. “He probably won’t make that mistake again.”
“Probably not.” I lift a hand. “Help me up. I need to check on the others.”
“No one’s body disappeared.” He grasps my wrists and lifts me to my feet. When my legs threaten to collapse, he slips an arm around my waist. “Not disappearing is good?”
“Usually, yeah.” I hobble with him toward the door, then freeze when the sink catches my eye. I lean my weight toward it, and he changes direction, half carrying me to the counter.
My pulse quickens once more as I peer into the basin.
Torch
, back to a steady red glow, hovers against the side, as far from any drops of water as he can get. When he sees me peering down, he flickers and waves stubby little arms.
“Oh, buddy, I’m so, so sorry,” I breathe as I reach into the sink to scoop him to safety. “You and Vova were so brave.”
He flickers and hugs my thumb, his body hot against my skin, but not burning.
“What is that?” Gavin whispers as he stares at Torch.
“This is the best cupcake baker in town,” I coo at Torch.
The little guy flickers blue for a second, and I wince. But the pain quickly fades as my body repairs itself instantly, the ley line magic that remains inside me following its original purpose to keep me healthy.
The pain of the net fades, too, but the weakness in my body remains. I need to return to the house, to restock my energy. But, first, I need to make sure everyone survived and that they get somewhere safe.
Leaning heavily on the detective, I hold Torch away from my clothes. I should find his box and not expend the power needed to hold him with bare hands, but I’m reluctant to let him go just yet.
Shuffling to the door, Gavin unlocks it, and we step out into the shattered remains of my bakery.
My chest tightens, this pain deeper, but relief quickly follows as I see bodies moving, and groans fill the air.
As Kelly helps Martha and Iris up, the collapsed table that had caught Tally scrapes backward, my friend’s pink hair appearing. Kelly stumbles over to pull the table farther back, then helps Tally up.
She looks around. “Jax?”
“Knocked out in the kitchen,” Gavin informs her, and the baku demon rushes past us to find her witch.
Jesse crawls out from behind one of the booths, her body rippling and reshaping as she looks around with wide brown eyes. “Sophia?” She chitters, the sound filled with panic as she wobbles to her feet, looking around. “Lazy succubus?”
Heart breaking, I release Gavin to hobble over to my smallest imp, pulling her soft body against mine. “She’ll be okay. She’ll be back.”
The other imps swarm around me, filling the air with their unique smell of baby powder, underscored by fear. I hold Torch above my head as they glom onto me and Jesse, chittering out comfort while seeking it for themselves.
Over Iris’s rainbow colored hair, I see Tally helping Jax from the kitchen, and the witch’s eyes jump to find me. Finding me safe, some of his tension melts away.
He leans heavily against the baku demon as she practically carries him to one of the chairs that remains upright. She settles him there before she darts back into the kitchen. She returns a moment later with a glass of water, then hovers over him as he drinks.
When the kitchen door bangs open, everyone flinches, and Detective Sharpe reaches for his weapon.
Slater stumbles out, and Tally releases a cry of relief, rushing across the room as Slater stops next to the counter for support. Soot covers him, and he winces as Tally’s arms wrap around his waist.
Hope surges through me as I fight my way free of the imps. “Kellen?”
Slater shakes his head. “I was helping unload crates in the parking lot when the building blew. I tried to go back in, but…” He coughs into his hand. “No one walked out of there.”
My throat tightens for the loss of my storm god, stolen without even the chance to say goodbye, before I nod in acceptance. Like Tobias, I have to assume he safely returned to the demon plane. Anything less is too painful to bear.
Detective Sharpe’s eyes shift toward the front of the shop, and he stiffens. My gut tightens, and I spin to face the new threat.
But instead of Victor Hesse swooping back in for round two, I see a white van pulled up to the curb, with a simple sign on the side that reads: The Cleaners. No mess is too big.
“I called them,” Jax volunteers as he stands to join Slater and Tally. “I figured they’d either save us like last time, or be here to clean up the mess after we were slaughtered.”
Tally hushes him, her hands flitting between her two men, checking for more wounds.
I frown at the van with suspicion. Even if they came directly from their offices hidden behind the psychic’s shop, it should have taken them at least ten more minutes, if not longer with the commotion from the explosion closing down nearby streets.
“How did they get here so fast?” I demand. “You only just called them.”
“They probably hopped into their van as soon as they heard news about the explosion.” When I turn to look at the detective in surprise, I find his narrowed eyes focused on the van. “They have police scanners.”
“Do you know—”
“What in the ever-loving hell happened here?” Flint’s voice cuts me off as the beautiful man sweeps through the busted front door.
Then, he freezes as his eyes land on Gavin.
Pen, right behind him, huffs with annoyance. “Clear the way. We have a shit ton of work to do, and not a lot of time.”
“Um, Pen, we should probably—”
Marc, bringing up the rear, stops just outside the shop with a concise, “Fuck.”
“Move out of the way!” Pen yells.
Flint, obviously shoved from behind, stumbles farther into the bakery to leave Pen exposed. Her golden-brown eyes sweep over the wreckage before landing on the detective.
“Well, fuck.” She whips around to pin her glare on Marc. “You’re supposed to be keeping track of him!”
“I’m not your freaking clairvoyant!” Marc snaps back. “He’s not even on duty today!”
“Hey, Detective Hot Stuff.” Flint flutters his lashes at the other man. “Any chance you can forget you saw us here?”
The detective folds his arms over his chest, a hard look settling on his face. “You want to tell me again how crazy I am for thinking the paranormal exists? Or does someone finally want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
I abandon the cleaners while they explain things to Detective Sharpe and return to the kitchen. There, I find Torch’s fire-safe box, tuck him inside, then bolt out the side door into the alley.
Yeah, it’s not the best idea to go out alone right now, and it’s definitely not the brightest idea to be driving, but without hyper-speed, the car is my fastest option for reaching Emil.
It’s possible Victor Hesse was just taunting me to lure me out into the open, but my gut says I need to find my ice demon, even if it’s just to be there when he learns of Tobias’s and Kellen’s corporeal deaths.
Uneasiness rolls through me, my mind shying away from what else Victor Hesse had implied. They’re demons of destruction, and they wield forces few demons could stand against. There’s no way they’ll be trapped on the demon plane so long as there’s still access to the human world.
They’re just being a little slow to return to me.
I keep repeating that to myself as I speed toward K&B Financial, honking the horn through intersections when the lights don’t turn green fast enough.
The tires bump up onto the curb as I wedge my car into a spot that’s too small for it directly in front of the entrance. It leaves the back end sticking out, but I don’t care. They can tow me.
Grabbing Torch’s box, I throw the driver’s door open, leap out, and rush into the bank. I bypass the tellers at the front and stride down the hall that leads to the conference rooms and the personal offices. An employee spots me and leaps from his desk, but I zoom past before he can try to hold me up.
He follows me down the hall. “Miss, do you have an appointment? Is there someone I can call for you?”
“No, thank you,” I call back without slowing as I pass a series of offices with frosted-glass doors.
When I turn down another short hallway that leads to Emil and Tobias’s offices, worry enters his voice. “Miss, if you’ll return to the check-in desk, I will let Mr. König know you’re here.”
I tuck Torch’s box closer against my side. “I don’t need an appointment.”
The hall ends at a set of dou
ble-doors made from rich mahogany, and I grasp the handle, flinging one door open.
“Miss, you can’t go in there!” the employee yells in panic.
Emil looks up from the large desk that dominates the space, his brows lifting, before his pale-blue eyes move past me. “It’s fine, Mr. Garcia. Ms. Pond is on the permanent guest list.”
“My apologies, Mr. König,” the man murmurs, followed by the almost silent snick of the door closing.
Emil rises from his padded chair and circles around his desk. “Adie, what are you doing here?” His gaze moves past me once more, and his white brows pinch together. “Where’s Tobias? He’s supposed to be with you.”
My heart wobbles, setting off a ripple of reactions inside me that must show on my face because Emil goes still as an ice sculpture. My bottom lip trembles, and I catch it between my teeth, biting hard to push back the sting of tears.
Emil’s icy gaze drops to my mouth, and he shakes himself back into motion. His hand lifts toward my cheek before he freezes once more, his fingers slowly curling against his palm to stop himself from comforting me.
The reminder we can’t touch rips the sob from my throat, and I shove my hand over my mouth to stop it. Now isn’t the time to break down. Not when I need to be strong and make sure Emil stays safe until the others return.
Another sob escapes, muffled against my palm.
“Adie?” he breathes, frost filling the air between us. “What’s happened?”
Knowing I shouldn’t, but unable to stop myself, I surge forward to close the distance between us. I press against his frozen body, not caring that the chill of his skin burns where we touch. I’d rather freeze to death than spend another second outside of his arms.
He embraces me carefully, his cold lips pressing against my temple as he whispers, “It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”
“We don’t know that,” I gasp out, and words roll off my tongue as I tell him everything that happened.
He listens silently, the temperature slowly dropping around us until I shiver in his arms, my teeth chattering as I speak. The power in his touch caresses my skin, demanding I let it in, but that could be the very thing Victor Hesse wants. Maybe one more feeding is all that’s needed to complete his spell. There’s no way of knowing.
