And deeply appealing.
A strange longing curled inside her. Homesickness. She longed to wiggle her toes into sand that retained the day’s heat while freshly-minted snakes coiled around her neck and arms. She’d give anything to have the wilderness and all its lack of expectation surrounding her. Feral. Free.
His head craned down and he snuffed at her.
She had the sense of being a small, finite thing connected to a vast, infinite thing, and she’d missed that sensation. Missed it so poignantly that her eyes stung, vision blurred.
Civilization was killing her. The asphalt, traffic, buildings and refuse and oil slick and crop dusting, and the horde, the mindless, raging, hungry horde of creatures scrambling, clambering for something to fill their great-empty.
She clenched her fists, coughed to clear the lump in her throat, and eyed the humbaba again.
He was beautiful.
Suddenly she had a new problem.
She didn’t want to kill him.
Chapter 25
While Lilith sprawled dumbstruck on the ice, the Lazarites attacked the dragon. Watching him fall to earth must have revived their confidence. They jumped on his tail, scrambled over his haunches, and gnawed on his scales. Their teeth scraped like claws on a chalkboard. More vampires pounced and scrambled along his spine, attacking him with knives and guns, most of which ricocheted off his scales.
The humbaba swung his head, using his monstrous rack to scrape off his assailants. His antlers impaled a vampire, piercing her throat and chest and flinging her into the sky.
His long, arching neck curled up. Nostrils flared, chest expanded. A bellow of fire blasted through the vampires on his tail, until flaming parasites fell off him.
The dragon’s gaze swung back to her.
Lilith scrambled away, but Haniel charged in. He howled, aimed the AR-contraption, and spewed an ongoing burst of machinegun fire. Bullets peppered the dragon’s scales, but the beast was so fixated on Lilith that he barely seemed to notice.
He roared fire at her.
Flame spread between them, catching on all available fuel, and a dozen vampire flares lit the night. One vamp was skewered, caught on the rack, and the dragon thrashed his head from side to side to dislodge her. Blood spilled, foul and thin, rancid and miasmic.
The ice slicked with black blood and scorched meat.
We’re going to lose, Lilith realized. But she’d already suspected they would. When she smelled the fresh ocean on his scales, she’d reconciled herself with the truth: the dragon was a force of nature, for nature’s sake.
She shook her head, reminding herself she’d brought the vampires as a distraction, and that now would be a great time to capitalize on it. She pulled herself away from the fight.
Haniel had a good lead on her, but she caught up with him as he reached the snow-entrenched field around the fort. Hip-deep in it, he flailed and struggled.
“Gonna wear yourself out,” she teased, snarled really, because her face burned, her nose hadn’t finished growing back, the chase tired her, and his impulsive need to get Maggie pissed Lilith off.
Why couldn’t he think? What happened to the goddamn plan?
They’d very painstakingly devised something that resembled a plan of attack, with reinforcements and everything, and the asshole had flown off half-cocked because of a girl.
So instead of helping him out of the snow, she happily watched him suffer, his face reddening with exertion. When he got to the structure, the big door didn’t budge, and the wall was a thirty feet of granite.
She snickered. “Bet you wish you still had wings, cherub.”
He panted, too breathless to retort, but he hoisted a middle finger. A snowball smashed into her cheek. Gasping, she spun and saw Five-horn a few paces away, juggling another icy snowball in his clawed hand.
“Don’t you d—”
This one smashed into her throat.
A jagged, hard ball of ice to the windpipe hurt more than she could have predicted. She gagged, throat burning, skin scraped. Haniel raised his middle finger again, with more enthusiasm, and Five-horn reached for another slush-ball…
Lilith growled. Magic pounded away at her from the inside. She couldn’t even get past a miniature demon with childish warfare.
She clenched her fists and shrieked. “I’ll rip the flesh from your body and make snakes of it!”
Five-horn twitched, faded away.
Good. She’d hoped to scare the little bastard—
He came back, this time with friends. Almost-wing and Triceratops and Hog-nose, each gathering snowballs…
Lilith crouched low and launched herself over the wall. Only it was wider than she’d anticipated, and she catapulted onto a flat, sodden roof. Her foot slipped and she tumbled. Since vampires in motion stayed in motion, she rolled until the roof fell out from under her. Finally, she dropped to ground.
Battered, breathless, she tried to get her bearings.
There was no sign of winter inside the fort’s walls. Waterlogged, brown grass laid plastered to the earth like a bald man’s comb-over. Wet soil squished underfoot, soaking her dress and clinging to her skin.
She arranged her feet under her, raising slowly off her hands and knees.
Haniel pounded on the other side of the door, trapped outside the fort, and she ignored him. If Haniel found Maggie first, he had no reason to give Lilith what she needed. She’d be screwed, and he’d be gone.
The race was on.
She charged toward the nearest archway with its doors cast open from the inside. Her feet slipped in mud, and she went down hard, scraping her knees.
But the slip saved her.
A minion appeared midair, fangs out, soaring right where her throat had been.
Haniel was trying to kill her, or at least slow her down. That asshole.
She punted the minion square in the chest and sent it careening off, screeching until it smacked into the granite wall and splatted like a bug. More puffs of sulfur slipped around her.
She scrambled up and ran into the corridor, dragging the thick door shut behind her. She found herself in a series of rooms with stone walls and arched brick ceilings, connected by rounded doorways. The first room was empty. The second, also empty. Then she came to a room with a mound of furniture and mannequins and trash, clusters of refuse, all crushed to smithereens and piled against the wall. Then another empty room.
A scent of brimstone chased her.
Where the hell was Maggie?
She risked calling out, “Maggie?” but no one answered.
Lilith closed her eyes, sniffed for blood, and listened for a heartbeat. The catacomb fort offered nothing. No mortal heartbeat shouted ‘here I am!’ to lead the way.
What if the girl was dead, and Lilith’s bargaining chip was gone for good? Could she rely on Haniel to honor their agreement whether the girl was dead or alive? Probably not. The love-struck, horny beast was becoming a demon, and they were hardly known for their sense of honor.
Lilith charged ahead, determined to scour every inch of stone within the castle’s walls. She banged doors and called out, but it was tunnel after tunnel, room after room. Finally, she arrived at a larger area, a bastion joining one wall to another.
Maggie wasn’t there, either.
Mounds of trash filled the barrel vaulted room. Plastic, mostly, and big rusted metal parts. Bottles and grocery bags and containers of every conceivable shape. Machine trinkets, a boat motor, old shoes, car parts, a veritable junkyard of odd crap. The mess stank of saltwater and rust, reminding her of sweat and blood.
The smell fueled her appetite, and her hungry heart clenched.
The dragon’s cleaning up, she realized, inhaling the fresh ocean and raw earth incense. He’s taking back the ocean.
She thought of her own fight to keep her desert home free of outside influence, how she’d killed anyone who’d trespassed into her territory with the intention of taking it, changing it, or using it up.
&nbs
p; Feelings of solidarity warmed her.
A chunk of metal rose into the air, lifted by invisible hands, and flew at Lilith. She ducked, avoiding that headache while another unseen minion hoisted a piece of rebar and pitched it like a javelin. It skewered the meat below her shoulder socket, ripping clean through before clanging to the ground.
Pain lanced down to her toes, but she had no blood left to bleed.
Lilith scooped up a handful of metal scraps, nails and bolts, and flung it like shrapnel. She didn’t wait to see if she’d struck anything. She ran, ignoring her new wound and sore muscles. She ducked through a nearby door and slammed it shut behind her.
The spark throbbed for her attention, filled her chest to capacity, and spiraled through her limbs. The intense, roving pressure threatened to overwhelm her and burst free. She covered her wound, worried the magic would gush out.
She was running out of time.
“Maggie!” Lilith bellowed. Haniel would hear and know exactly where Lilith was. She didn’t care.
She raced, leaving muddy footprints, until she ran through a room that smelled like smoke. Wood smoke. From a fire. Since a dragon who could breathe fire on command wouldn’t need something as mundane as a cooking fire, it implied Maggie was alive and close by.
Another scent joined the campfire perfume, coppery and sweet, salted and moist: human flesh and blood.
Lilith shoved through the next door.
The girl laid in the fetal position, unblinking, breathing shallow. She wore a filthy oversized sweater but no leggings, and fireplace soot dirtied her bruised legs. Beneath the new damage, layers of old scars attested to a lifetime of abuse. Self-abuse, probably, because it was all so orderly.
Lilith shut the door and leaned on it, panting, thighs boiling with strain, heart crowded with tension.
“Maggie?” Lilith said, “I’m here to rescue you.”
It was such a blatant lie that Lilith cringed. She was grateful when Maggie didn’t seem to hear her.
The girl lingered on the brink of death.
Chapter 26
Lilith sprinted over to Maggie and shook her. “Hey, wake up!”
Maggie didn’t blink, but her eyes weren’t closed. The orbs appeared one flicker away from the dead-doornail look. Lilith leaned in. The girl’s pulse staggered, her heartbeat weakened and fluttered. Maggie’s breath scarcely budged.
Lilith could smell an awful illness, a human wasting sickness that’d been cultured in filthy water and unclean air, the kind of stew bacteria loved to exploit.
Bitch better not die before I get what I came for.
Ending the miserable creature’s existence would be an act of mercy.
This is what Haniel fell in love with? This meat isn’t worth a nibble.
However, an unconscious human would be easier to manage. Lilith could tuck the mortal scrap under her arm and—
Sulfur tarnished the air.
Maggie’s crusty sweater began to fray at the wrist, unraveling on its own. Her arm rocked side to side as the yarn wormed across the room. Lilith’s eyebrows rose. Minions!
The girl started sailing away.
Lilith threw herself atop Maggie’s wretched body, knocking the wind from her. Maggie’s clammy cheek rubbed against Lilith’s chin, close to her mouth, near her teeth…
Focus.
Maggie remained limp, unresponsive, desperately in need of medical attention. Minions continued to pull at her, invisible and persistent.
Lilith hissed at the sneaky imps. A puff of hot, dry air blasted her sensitive eyeballs as a trio of minions manifested.
Big ones.
Uh-oh.
The minions she was accustomed to, like Five-horn and Triceratops, stood waist high. These were bigger, shoulder level, stooping, fanged, and cloven-hooved. They susurrated back at her, jaws gaping. Fat knuckles dragged on the ground as they triangulated. Their long red eyes assessed the situation.
Double uh-oh.
Haniel must have called in the big muscle.
Lilith stood, pulling herself up to her full height. She threatened, “Don’t you dare,” in her deepest, coldest voice.
They hesitated.
For an instant.
Then all three lunged at once.
Lilith punched the first one in the throat.
The second grabbed her around the waist and they spun together. She grasped its shoulders and tried to find her balance. Bumpy, amphibian skin slipped under her fingers, and it had no horns or fur to grab hold of. Jagged teeth pierced her hip, sank down to the bone.
Another wave of anguish and injuries wearied her.
Lilith reached out and shoved her fingers into its long eyes, willing to dig down into its damned brain if she had to. An eye ruptured, gooey and fibrous. The minion squealed and retreated.
The third was dragging Maggie toward the door. Lilith ran over and kicked it in the jaw. Its head snapped back, throat extended, but it didn’t release its prize. Lilith bared her teeth, growled, and tackled it. Its dense, furry body twisted, and it brought its hind legs up like a cat to gouge her stomach. Claws sliced past the corset, into her midsection.
Lilith bit its throat.
She tasted demon blood for the first time.
It was wretched. Putrid like vinegar, thick like tar.
She gagged.
Power zinged down to her toes. Roared through her skull. Mixed with the spark. Chaos erupted inside her, like tossing water on an electrical fire.
She reared back, away from the minion and its blood. Her nose itched, her cheeks healed. Even though the small amount of blood had done a disproportional amount of corrective work on her wounds, she never wanted to taste it again.
A thud resounded above her head, shaking the stone roof. Something big had landed.
The humbaba.
Lilith cringed.
The dragon stomped on the roof, each footfall like a cannon blasting through the fort. Dust billowed down. The beast trampled and raged, bam bam bam. The ceiling trembled; it wouldn’t last.
A fresh quiver of fear wormed into her guts.
Haniel’s new minions gulped at the quaking roof and vanished.
Lilith grabbed Maggie’s wrist and ran. She’d only dragged the girl two paces when a chunk of stone fell and scraped the side of Lilith’s head, nearly ripping off her ear before smacking her shoulder. Pain burned through her head and shot down her arm. She bled, and her veins emptied once more.
Maggie’s wrist slipped from her grip.
A giant foot plowed through the ceiling, showering debris. Lilith ducked, covered her head, and stared in awe at the humbaba’s bronze, clawed toes. He yanked his foot back, knocking aside more stone and leaving a big hole.
She used her good arm to grab Maggie and heave the girl onto her shoulder. The girl was light and Lilith was strong, but her slight build made it awkward and the body slid around.
While the dragon’s foot was stuck in the ceiling, Lilith fled.
And ran right into Haniel.
They both staggered back a few steps. His eyes widened comically. His mouth fell open. He reached out—
“Back up, lover boy,” Lilith snarled. “We’ve got a dragon—”
The ceiling crumbled behind them. Haniel flinched as the crash reverberated throughout the corridor.
Still, he argued. “I’ll carry her.”
“The hell you will.” Lilith charged past him.
Haniel snatched Maggie’s arm, dragging Lilith backward as they played tug of war over the body. Haniel’s eyes darkened as he yanked on Maggie’s wrist. Lilith reared back so hard she imagined they’d dislocate the girl’s shoulder, but she didn’t let go. If Haniel could, he’d take Maggie and run, leaving Lilith behind. They both knew it.
“She’s mine,” Haniel said.
“Not until you give me—”
Lilith’s ears perked up to the sound of footsteps shuffling through crumbled stone. The dragon was coming, and she didn’t have time to argue. They needed to
move. Luckily, where Maggie went, Haniel would follow.
She did the only thing she could think of.
She punted Haniel in the balls.
He squealed. She darted past him. Maggie’s limp body bounced on her shoulder.
Lilith ran, mindlessly, as fast as she could without stumbling. She had no other plan except to keep moving. She’d run in a damned circle all night if she had to.
If she could manage it.
Haniel wheezed behind her. Soon she lost him—only to realize the idiot angel was now stranded between her and an angry dragon and she might lose the magical key she’d been trying to bargain for—and she didn’t stop. She couldn’t worry; Haniel’s legion would save him.
Besides, running felt good. Oh, to escape. To put distance between her and her enemies.
The cavernous tunnel reminded her of desert caves. Despite cold, wet air choking her and the miserable silt underfoot, she felt in control.
For a moment.
The spark, excited by her fear, churned inside her and crowded around her heart. She needed the organ to function, but it didn’t have room to contract and pulse. She didn’t have enough blood and couldn’t draw a breath to sustain herself.
Then the goddamn girl chose the worst time to wake up.
The damsel didn’t gently wake and stretch her blushing limbs like a flower unfurling its petals. No, the wench thrashed as if she was falling through hell: shrieking, twisting, clawing, and kicking. The commotion tossed Lilith off balance. She swayed into the wall, scraping her elbow and bashing her injured shoulder.
Lilith hissed in pain, clamped her arm tighter around Maggie’s thighs, and recovered her stride.
“Shut up, girl,” Lilith said, “Stop wriggling,” but of course Maggie didn’t. Lilith considered summoning a serpent, wondered if she could shape its Becoming in such a way that it’d be loaded with morphine instead of venom. She decided she couldn’t risk it.
“Maggie,” she pleaded, heaving under the exertion.
The girl was almost out of gas, limbs pattering, heart struggling to push a pulse. If Lilith didn’t move this along, Maggie would die. A dead girl—one who’d been breathing when Haniel saw her moments before—was a poor bargaining chip. Haniel would blame her, and he’d never cooperate.
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