The Darkest Gateway

by Jeri Westerson

  Erasmus smiled and hefted it. “This will do.”

  The harpies—winged creatures with the faces of women—dropped from the ledge above and swooped low, baring their teeth and striking out with clawed feet.

  Erasmus cocked back the weapon and swung, smacking one of the female-faced creatures full on. Broken and bloody, she fluttered to the ground, dead.

  The other harpies screamed at the loss of their sister. They doubled their attack, going for Erasmus. Focalor bounded into the air and chased them with his own fangs bared. He could only chase one at a time so the three split off in all directions.

  Erasmus felt the sting of claws raking along his head and was momentarily stunned by the pain. It wasn’t like that as a demon, when he could withstand a great amount of punishment. As a weak human, he was nearly undone. He dropped the club and fell to his knees, gripping his head. Such agony! His flesh was rent and he realized with a pang of fear, that he couldn’t heal like he had before. When he looked down at his hands, there was blood. Not the black blood of his demon self, but red like any other weak human. The hands he looked at trembled. Get a hold of yourself! he admonished. What did it matter? He wouldn’t be alive long anyway. All he had to do was hold out long enough to bargain with Satan.

  He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and looked up to where the harpies were circling overhead. Focalor had managed to capture one and was devouring it live while it struggled, bloody feathers cascading around him.

  The last two screamed again and looked to be doubling their efforts to get at Erasmus. He waved his hands at his head to protect himself as he scrambled to the cudgel. He snatched it up and held it with both hands, waiting to strike them again. Blood from his scalp trickled down over his forehead, dribbling to his eyebrows. He blinked it away while the harpies split off and came at him from opposite sides.

  When one got close enough, he swung, ducking the approach of the other. He missed.

  “Focalor!”

  “What?” the demon asked around a mouthful of harpy. Black blood was smeared all around his face, and his hand dripped with it too.

  “A little help!”

  “You’re so needy now, Erasmus.” He cast aside the remains of the corpse and wiped his mouth with his arm. “Now,” he said, scanning the skies. “Where are those tasty creatures? Ah!” He lifted off, zooming toward one of them. Erasmus looked on with envy at Focalor’s wings. Now, of course, he couldn’t change at all.

  Erasmus impatiently swiped at the blood in his eyes and adjusted his slippery grip on the club, eyes tracking the skies.

  Shoulders! Pain! She had come from behind and dug her claws into his shoulders, dragging him forward. If she got him down on the ground, she’d sink her teeth into his neck, and he’d be dead in seconds.

  With a yell and his muscles working with all their might, he snapped the club up behind his head and hoped for the best. It smashed something and the creature shrieked. When the claws let him go, he spun. The harpy was flopping around on the ground, moaning and flapping with a deep injury to its face.

  He smiled, stalked up to it, and raised the cudgel, bringing it down again and again. Bits of bone, feather, and black blood flicked up at him. When it was a flattened mass, he smiled, dropped the club, and turned.

  Focalor was hanging in the air in the process of tearing the harpy apart, flinging a leg here and a wing there. He touched down beside Erasmus.

  “You’re bleeding. Human blood. Can I…can I taste it?”

  He sighed. He had to give the demon something for his trouble. “Yes…but don’t bite.”

  Focalor positioned himself in front of Erasmus, grasped his upper arms, and drew him in, first licking his forehead with a long, flat forked tongue and making moaning noises of pleasure. He ran his tongue along Erasmus’ wounded scalp and over his bleeding shoulders, clearly enjoying himself. When Erasmus sensed Focalor was lingering too long, he shoved him back. “That’s enough,” he growled.

  Focalor licked his lips. “You taste divine, my friend. It’s too bad I agreed to help you…and not devour you instead.”

  “Yes,” he said, backing away. “You promised. You will have an amazing story to tell. Something that will last far longer than a mere meal.”

  Focalor studied him with narrowed eyes. He took a step closer. “That is true. And I did promise…”

  Erasmus took another step back. Now he wished he hadn’t dropped the club, a tantalizing four feet away. “An amazing story to tell of the bravery of a demon.”

  Focalor stopped. The hungry look in his eye diminished. “You take the fun out of everything, Erasmus.”

  He breathed a relieved sigh. “So I’ve been told. But the end of my tale will come soon enough.” Glancing up at the arched cavern and the glint of light within, he moved forward. He heard Focalor behind him, muttering to himself.

  The cavern descended as he expected it would. They traveled down a long spiraling trail hewn out of the rock. Stalactites and stalagmites in gray stone marked their path. Huge cascades of dripping stone laid out like giant church organs held up the walls. For the first time, it was strangely cold in the Netherworld. Erasmus knew of worlds that were covered in ice, but the region on this world he was most familiar with was hot and humid. Not that he could have felt the difference before. The sensations his human body endured were that much stranger to his situation. Especially the pain of his head and shoulders. He was almost grateful that it all would be over soon.

  There was flickering ahead. He knew it must be where the flames were, where…He was, and when they rounded a corner, they saw it.

  Focalor stopped Erasmus’ with a touch of the arm. His eyes were round and he didn’t need to speak. Indeed, neither of them seemed capable at the sight before them.

  Satan was as tall as a two-story house, and yet he was still only sitting. His skin was like black rock with a myriad of glowing red cracks spread over every inch, as if he himself were made of a crust of cooling rock with a core of lava. It might be so. He wore no clothing and his horns would have been the envy of Baphomet, for they speared upward well over his head in the graceful shape of a lyre. He was sitting as a man rests in a bath, with his knees up, his elbow on one knee, and his pointed chin resting on his hand. Except instead of water, flames crackled all around the pit in which he sat. He stared at nothing, pondering his thoughts, slowly blinking his red, glowing eyes over and over.

  Above him in the rising cavern living gargoyles were perched, sitting like cats and following the visitors’ progress with their yellow eyes.

  Erasmus wondered if he should say something. Move forward and grovel. Drop to his knees. Instead, he was trapped by fear and couldn’t move at all. Why had he decided to do something as insane as this? In his terror, he suddenly couldn’t remember, until an image flashed through his mind. Kylie. He saw her face, her smile, and he remembered.

  “This…is very interesting,” said the surprisingly soft voice of the demon of demons. He didn’t turn his head but Satan’s nostrils flared. “I smell…a human.”

  Finally, He turned his head, which was a feat of engineering from its size. Erasmus suddenly imagined gears of a waterwheel and pulleys turning the enormous visage. But when those eyes fixed on him, he had no choice but to fall to his knees. His legs wouldn’t hold him up anymore.

  “My Mighty Lord, I…I come to you as a recent human, for I was a demon before this. Erasmus Dark.”

  “Erasmus Dark?” Satan tapped his chin with a giant finger. “Created by the Powers That Be to guard some silly book? Is that you?”

  “Y-yes, Mighty One.”

  “And you say you’re human now? What in the twelve worlds possessed you to do that? Who was it? I’ll eat him for you.”

  “No, my Great Lord.” He couldn’t believe how frightened he was. True, he had been frightened as a demon, but as a human, he had nothing, no way to protect himself. More trickles of blood streaked down his forehead. He dared not wipe at them or even glance away. “It was
my idea.”

  “And so you come to me with…Focalor. Hello, Focalor!” He waggled his fingers toward the frozen demon, who had hung back and flattened himself against the cave wall. “But he is still a demon. Were you not happy with your lot, Erasmus?” His voice was that of a curious yeoman, wondering about the cattle foraging out in the pasture and the price of hay. This calm and easy voice was disconcerting.

  “Focalor came to escort me. He has nothing to do with my decision.”

  Satan cocked his great head. The shadows of his horns moved across the uneven cavern walls, darkening several layers of gargoyles perched on each stone outcropping. “Are you…protecting him?”

  “Yes. I would not have him punished for my sake. He traded devouring me for the chance to tell this tale he will witness.”

  “Well, now I am intrigued. A demon protecting another. And one keeping his promise not to devour. It does sound like a tale to tell. Tell me, Erasmus.”

  Erasmus licked his lips. The rocks beneath him were tearing into his knees, but it didn’t matter at this point. Only a little while longer would do.

  “I came to beg that you destroy the Booke of the Hidden.”

  “But…the Booke of the Hidden is all you know. It is your home, your protection. Why would you ask me to do that?”

  “Because…because the Chosen Host…wishes it.”

  “The Chosen Host? A human? Why would you bring such a thing to me? Oh, no, no, no. I thought this would be more intriguing.” He began to lift his arm, and Erasmus feared it was to destroy him.

  He jumped to his feet. “Wait! Please! It was because of her that I became human…so that I would have something with which to bargain.”

  Satan froze, blinking at Erasmus for far too many heartbeats. Erasmus held his breath.

  Satan slowly lowered his arm. “You did it for her? It sounds as if she yet lives.”

  “Yes. I did not…could not take her soul.”

  Satan stroked the length of his pointed chin. “A demon friend who would not devour you and a Soul-Eater who would not eat a soul. Focalor, you are right. This is starting to become a very interesting tale indeed.”

  Focalor shrunk further into the wall, tucking his wings in tight.

  With his hands on his knees, Satan stretched and leaned toward Erasmus. His great shadow raced across the floor. “And why, my dear eater of souls, did you defy your own creation to promise her this?”

  His knees trembled, threatening to buckle under him again. He could not look away from that burning coal of a face. “Because…because I…love her.”

  Erasmus waited. He thought that Satan might laugh at him, believing it to be a feeble and mundane excuse. He thought Satan wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. He waited and hoped…

  “You love her,” said Satan. “As a human, you loved her?”

  “No, my Dread Lord. As a demon. I love her. I love her even now. And I am here to destroy the book and offer you my soul in return…before she did so herself.”

  Satan sat back so abruptly Erasmus thought his horns would scrape the ceiling, but the roof was much higher than he had originally thought. “By the Devil Myself, I don’t believe it. This woman, this Chosen Host whom you have promised not to kill, had designs to come to me and offer her own soul to destroy that troublesome book? My, my. You know, Erasmus, I never gave the thing much thought. Oh, I wondered about it, who had made it, and why. But I never troubled myself to think about it. And now…well! Now I must. There is no question that I can destroy the book, but you are bound to it by—oh, I see. Now that you are human, you are not tied to it. Clever. But, of course, you’d be dead just the same. If I thought this new soul of yours was worthy, I might consider it. A new soul is fresh, after all, and not the best as with a well-worn soul.”

  “I know, my Great Lord.”

  “Indeed, you are a connoisseur yourself.”

  “Only of Chosen Hosts.”

  “Ah, yes. But tell me.” Satan adjusted his seat in the pit and rested his long-fingered hands on each side of his face. “How did you fall in love? Were you toying with her?”

  Erasmus stared at his feet. “She…she seduced me,” he grumbled.

  Satan rocked back and laughed, a roaring, booming sound. The gargoyles on the walls flapped their wings and took their time to resettle on their precarious ledges.

  “Oh my dear Erasmus, this is very entertaining! It’s certainly worth my time. I thought for a moment to destroy you and your Focalor, but now I don’t want to. I want to hear more.”

  Erasmus risked a cautious glance back at Focalor. He was making his way stealthily back the way they had come. But a gargoyle spotted him and flew down lower with a warning glower not to leave.

  “There is not much left to tell, my lord. She was searching for a way to avoid trading her soul and looking for a way to release me from the book at the same time. I had at first thought…well. She is working with a coven of very intelligent Wiccans. I had hoped that she could find a way and we…we could be together. But…alas.”

  “That’s touching. Can you tell me, Erasmus, what is it like being in love? I have heard it is painful.”

  “It can be.” He looked off to the side, trying to parse his thoughts. “It is like…a glorious revelation. A never-ending joy that grows and warms. To know that I am loved as I love her…” He shook his head. “I don’t know how best to describe it.”

  “And…this love. It has brought you here. But you will ultimately be destroyed. Is that, too, love?”

  “Yes. For in loving her, I would gladly sacrifice myself to keep her from harm.”

  “But you will never see her again, nor she you.”

  “I know. But…it somehow…seems…right.”

  Satan slowly shook his head. “It sounds like madness. Are you certain you aren’t mad? This is something beyond my understanding, Erasmus. But I have heard similar tales of humans and those creatures on other worlds. This love that is so strong that it makes them fools.”

  Erasmus hung his head. “Yes. I am a fool. But I am not sorry for it.”

  “Erasmus,” said Satan, “my dear, dear Erasmus, your story is very intriguing. One for the ages, really. But I—”

  A commotion at the cavern’s path turned Satan’s head. Focalor looked up the trail and backed away, but then looked at Satan and instead pressed himself even tighter to the wall.

  “Will you get out of my way?” someone shouted.

  Satan’s nostrils flared. “This is a banner day. I smell yet another human…in the Netherworld!”

  “What?” Erasmus snapped his head toward the entrance and his heart gave a jolt at what he saw. “Kylie?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It had been decided that Ruth would come with them to the caves, which was a good thing, Jeff thought. But their cars were all in the front where the mob was. Ruth hadn’t brought hers, but if they could get it... Jeff straightened. “Give me the key and I’ll go get it and pick you all up,” he said.

  Ruth rested her fists on her hips. “How are you going to get there faster than the rest of us?”

  Jeff smiled. He began peeling off his clothes and by the time his trousers fell away, he was all wolf.

  She stared at him dumbfounded until Doc nudged her. “Your key?”

  Mouth still open, she reached into a pocket of her cargo pants and handed it to Jeff, who took it delicately between his teeth. Doc leaned toward him. “Ruth lives at 421 Mill Pond Road. She drives a green Mercedes.”

  Of course, she does, Jeff thought, before he bounded off, skirting around the back way through the woods. He ran full pelt, ashamed to be reveling in it. But he realized if he went too many days without wolfing completely and tearing through the wilderness, he got jumpy and angered too easily. It was good to get out of his human skin sometimes. He wondered if it had always been that way. He got the same sort of thrill from surfing, getting a little agitated when he went too long without being on the waves. It could be that the original werewolf had lo
oked for him, knowing his restlessness. Maybe it was some sort of fate. Whatever, he told himself. He hated it…but he kind of loved it, too.

  He got to Mill Pond Road and figured what the hell. He ran down the middle of the road looking for 421 without worrying about anyone seeing him. Too late for that. There! With the shiny Mercedes in the front driveway, newly washed. Good thing, or it might have been in the garage. But once he got there, he realized that to get in the car, he’d have to shift back…and he didn’t have any clothes.

  One problem at a time, he mused and shifted. And without fur it was considerably colder. He fumbled with the key fob and clicked the button. He heard the door unlock and quickly got inside, cranking up the heat. In no time he was feeling better.

  He hoped Ruth wouldn’t mind his naked butt on her leather seats and chuckled to himself. Kylie would have loved this. But backing out of the driveway, his smile faded. Not past tense. She wasn’t gone yet. He could cling to the hope that she’d somehow get out of it. If anyone could, it would be his babygirl…though not his anymore. That demon. Why had she fallen for him? There was no accounting for it, but she had. But more importantly, the demon had fallen for her. That’s what had kept her alive so far.

  Jeff took all the backroads he could think of to end up parked near Kylie’s backyard. The coven seemed to just appear from behind the trees. Seraphina got in first and dropped his clothes on his lap.

  “I thought you might be needing these,” she said with a serene smile.

  “Thanks, babe.”

  The rest of the coven crammed in. Ruth did wince when she noticed Jeff’s undressed state on her smooth leather seats, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Where am I going again?” asked Jeff.

  “Get to the highway,” said Doc, “and I’ll let you know when to turn.”

  Doc directed from the back seat and Jeff drove fast up the highway. He occasionally locked glances with Nick through the rearview mirror. He could tell Nick was ready to shift too, fingers drumming anxiously on his thigh.

  Jeff maneuvered the car up Falcon’s Point Road and parked at the trailhead. He slipped from the driver’s seat just as he shifted, avoiding any embarrassment, though he hardly ever got embarrassed by it anymore, truthfully.