by Sara Snow
My mother shuddered, her fragile body wracked by a long, rattling breath. I felt her body go rigid. Her eyes were unfocused. She stared at the air above my head. One last current of life flickered across her face, and then she was gone.
Gone again, leaving me alone to save myself. And suddenly, I was just as weak and helpless as I’d been when I was eight years old, facing terrors so strange and new that I couldn’t begin to understand what was in store for me.
28
Carter
I had never been one to sweat much. I’d always figured that I was born cold, without the need to perspire. But right now, as I stood waiting in that airless hallway, my whole body was filmed with a clammy layer of moisture. A pulse thrummed in my forehead, accompanied by a crushing headache. My body buzzed with adrenaline, but I couldn’t move until it was time.
The only sounds in that house came from Jacob’s ragged breathing and from the muffled voices in the room at the end of the corridor.
Georgia and her mother. Together at last. I couldn’t imagine how painful that reunion must be, and I didn’t want to. I just wanted this whole thing to be over so I could have Georgia in my arms again, safe and whole.
I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. Still no calls, no texts from the warehouse. What the fuck was going on back in Chicago? Was Jose in the hospital again? Were Kingston and Eli even alive?
I tugged at my collar, trying to get a little air circulating through my clothes. The walls of the corridor seemed to be closing in, and I felt like I was stuck in an elevator shaft.
Jacob wasn’t doing much better. The narrow space was filled with the sharp odor of nervous sweat. He kept shifting the weight of his crossbow and shuffling his feet. His edgy movements only added to my tension, but I knew how he felt.
“How long is she going to be in there?” he whispered. “The woman abandoned her years ago. What have they got to talk about?”
“She’ll be there as long as it takes,” I hissed back.
“I wish she’d just kiss her already,” Jacob groaned. “I need to take a piss.”
“Go ahead. The place already reeks of it.”
Even though we were standing there squabbling, I actually felt close to Jacob for once. We were stuck in the same boat, waiting for all hell to break loose.
Then it did.
Any breath of air that had remained in that hallway was suddenly sucked out of it, as if a vacuum had pulled all the oxygen out of the house. The cramped space filled with a weird stench, like chemical smoke mingled with incense. My muscles tensed, and I clutched my knife. Maybe it wasn’t the best choice of weapons, but the weight of it reassured me that I wasn’t completely vulnerable to the demons we were about to face.
Besides, I really wanted to feel that blade sink into Paimon’s heart, to watch him writhe on the ground while I stabbed him over and over again. Death by fire was fine, but if this turned into hand-to-hand combat, I wanted to feel him die.
“They’re here,” I said under my breath.
Jacob looked at me and nodded. “Let’s go.”
“Wait. She’s supposed to set them all on fire, then run.”
A few seconds ago, I’d been sweltering in this claustrophobic space. Now, I was cold as ice. The timing felt off. Something had gone wrong.
The house rang with a horrifying sound. Laughter. Raucous, blood-curdling laughter, like the howls of a band of marauders racing to the slaughter. Jacob and I stared at each other. What was Georgia doing there? The room should be up in smoke by now.
“What are we waiting for, Christmas? Come on!” Jacob yelled.
We ran down the hall and burst into the room. A wall of demons all but blocked my view of Georgia, who crouched on a mattress beside an emaciated husk of a woman. Georgia’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates, her face white with shock. The woman—her mother—lay on the bed, her lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling.
And Georgia was paralyzed. In the state she was in, she clearly couldn’t do shit.
The tallest of the three demons turned to us. I recognized that face, suave and smug, totally convinced that he and his buddies were going to kick our ass. He held up his scepter as if he were going to make some fucking pronouncement.
Paimon, Bebal, and Abalam—our dreams come true. But Deena’s death had thrown the whole thing off. Now Georgia wasn’t in any position to follow through with our original plan. It was time for Plan B.
“Go!” I shouted to Jacob. “Send them back to Hell!”
Jacob raised his right arm, closed his eyes, and shouted his invocation. Bebal and Abalam shrank back. I held my breath as I waited for the three demons to be blasted back to Hell.
Paimon chuckled. “How quaint,” he said. “You thought you could banish me like some little foot soldier. Well, your words are useless when the three of us are together.”
Jacob shouted the invocation again, this time in a voice so loud it shook the flimsy walls.
Nothing happened. He lifted his crossbow, but the weapon was useless at such a close range. As Bebal and Abalam fell on us, Jacob smashed his fist into Abalam’s gut. I pulled my knife on Bebal and managed to stab him in the shoulder, though I’d been aiming for his heart. While he howled in rage and clutched at the wound, I aimed my gun, but I was too late. I’d pissed him off, but I hadn’t really hurt him—a deadly mistake.
Bebal shoved me to the ground and stood over me, hatred beaming from the sockets of his eyes. I heard the thud of Jacob’s fists smashing into Abalam’s face, and that gave me some satisfaction as I faced my impending doom. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Paimon hovering beside Georgia, engulfing her in his cloak in a possessive gesture that filled me with fury.
No way, fucker.
Bebal pulled out a stake and descended on me. I grabbed him by the throat, gripping his thick neck with every ounce of strength in my body. He held the stake high, ready to plunge it into my heart.
Georgia. Let Georgia get out of this alive and free.
“No!” Georgia screamed.
She shoved Paimon away, and as he fell against the wall, his cloak burst into flames. Bebal leapt off me and lumbered over to Paimon, trying to smother the flames with his bulk as the king of demons shrieked in agony. I clambered to my feet, grabbed Georgia by the arm and dragged her out of the room. Flames were rapidly consuming the dry wood of the baseboards, and a tattered set of curtains had caught on fire.
Jacob left Abalam groaning on the floor. The three of us raced down the hall and out the door, gasping and choking from the smoke. Paimon’s howls of pain rang in our ears. We wouldn’t have to worry about Georgia’s mother now. Deena would burn in the blaze—but at least she had felt her daughter’s kiss before she died.
“Shit, that was close,” Jacob gasped as we jumped into the car. “Those fuckers almost had us, but we got the best of them.”
My hands were so shaky from adrenaline that I could barely get the key in the ignition. I would never forget the sight of Bebal’s hideous skull head looming over me as his stake hovered over my heart.
The Tenebris had planned their attack, just as we had planned ours. Why else would Bebal have had a metal stake at the ready? There was no other way to kill a vampire. If Georgia hadn’t snapped out of her trance, I wouldn’t be here right now, trying helplessly to drive my damn car.
“Not so fast, kid,” I said. “I hate to rain on your parade, but we didn’t ‘get the best’ of them. We just slowed them down. Trust me, they’ll be back on our tail in no time.”
“Didn’t you see how I pounded that asshole? I beat him to a pulp, Carter. He was hamburger by the time I got done with him. And Georgia set them on fire.”
“Paimon was the only one who got burned,” I corrected him. “He may or may not be dead. The other two are alive and well. Trust me.”
“All I care about is taking that bastard out,” said Georgia. “I just want him dead. Even if he is—was—my father.”
She was visibly shaken, but
at least she was still with us. I got chills just thinking about Paimon sweeping her up in that fancy cloak of his, claiming her for himself.
I drove down the street, searching for some kind of refuge. None of those buildings, with their drab exteriors and iron security bars, looked very welcoming. “We have to care about saving our own skins first. We need to get somewhere safe.”
“Let’s find a church,” Jacob suggested. “Demons won’t follow us into a church. It’s a sanctified space.”
In the rearview mirror, I saw Olympia give Jacob a skeptical look.
“You’ll be able to get in, but what about the rest of us? Carter’s half-vampire. Georgia’s half-demon, and I’m a witch. You’re the only one who’s legit, Jacob.”
“We’re all fighting against evil,” I said. “That’s going to have to be enough.”
Jacob had a point. A church would be a good place to hide out for a while, at least until we got our bearings and figured out how to get back home. I was wiped out from a long night of driving, and the thought of lying down to rest in a cool, quiet place sounded fabulous—even if I ended up snoozing on a wooden pew.
It didn’t take long to find what we were looking for in that neighborhood. We found a Catholic church near the cemetery that looked like a good place to take shelter—a modest sandstone building with a contemporary design. I flinched at the giant crucifix that marked the exterior, but anything was better than dealing with a couple of vengeful demon kings.
We trudged into the chapel like a band of weary soldiers. Georgia’s face was smudged with smoke, her face drawn with fatigue. I was pretty sure I didn’t look much better. Jacob’s shirt was spattered with whatever demonic fluid he had pounded out of Abalam, and even Olympia looked the worse for wear.
The chapel was dim and cool, just as I’d hoped. Rows of simple wooden pews stood on either side of a narrow aisle that led to a simple altar. The only touch of extravagance in the building was a large stained-glass window above the altar with a vivid depiction of the crucifixion, complete with jagged red shards of glass representing Christ’s blood.
A priest came out to meet us as we walked up the aisle. He was a younger guy, probably in his thirties, with a trim beard and wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a short-sleeved black clerical shirt with a dog collar and jeans.
“Can I help you?” he asked. He looked bewildered at the ragged crowd of misfits who had barged into his chapel.
I cleared my throat. “We were just passing through town,” I said, “and we thought we’d tour a few of the historic churches in the area.”
He frowned, clearly not convinced that a group of tourists with an interest in ecclesiastical architecture would include his church on their itinerary.
“This church was built in the sixties,” he said. “I’m sure you’d be more interested in the Ysleta Mission or the Sacred Heart Cathedral.”
“To be totally honest, Father,” Jacob broke in, “we’re running from demons. We need a place to hide for a couple of hours while we plan our next move.”
The priest’s skeptical look softened. “So, you’re all in danger.”
Wow. I’ve heard some humans will believe anything, but that was entirely too easy.
Two minutes ago, when I asked for a tour, the priest was skeptical of why we’d want to look at the architecture of his church. But Jacob pipes in and mentions we need help because demons are after us, and he buys it without question? What was it about that kid that made people trust him so easily?
Something else had to be at play here. Jacob’s boyish charm shouldn’t be enough to sell that story to a human. Not that quickly.
“Yes. We are,” Georgia spoke up. “And it’s because of me. Please let us stay.”
Her words rang out pure and sincere, and the tremor of fear was unmistakable. The priest sighed and rubbed his jaw.
“If you’re the one who’s being threatened,” he said to Georgia, “we should hide you in the basement. That’s the safest place in the building. We keep it locked at all times—”
“No. I’m not going to leave my friends,” Georgia insisted. “We’re a team. We’ll stay together.”
“Okay. Then the next safest place is the sacristy. You can stay there until you figure out what to do.”
“Thank you,” Georgia whispered. Tears glistened in her eyes.
The priest led us past the altar into a room slightly larger than a storage closet. Simple vestments hung on a rack against one wall, and a set of shelves stocked with books and ecclesiastical vessels stood against another.
“Kind of cramped for four people,” the priest said, “but you should be safe. How long do you think you’ll be here?”
“Not long,” I said. “Just long enough to rest and regroup. We don’t have a lot of time to waste.”
“Lock the door behind me,” the priest said as he left the room. “There are a couple of blankets on top of the shelf. And if you need to read any scriptures, there are plenty of bibles.”
“Not much chance of that.” Olympia yawned. “I just need a nap.”
I didn’t bother to mention that she’d slept for hours while I drove. Instead, I sank down on the floor next to the rack of vestments, leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. Georgia sat down next to me, while Olympia and Jacob grabbed blankets and found resting places on the other side of the room. Olympia curled up against Jacob, her head resting on his shoulder.
Good. Maybe he’ll fall for the witch and leave Georgia alone.
“Got any ideas about what to do next, Boss?” Jacob asked me.
I detected more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice, but I decided to ignore it.
“Yeah. As soon as we get some rest, we’re going to get the hell out of El Paso and head back to Chicago.” I checked my phone for about the thousandth time, but there were still no texts or voicemails from the warehouse.
“How do we know the demons won’t follow us?” Olympia asked.
“We can count on them following us,” I said. “But I’m hoping Paimon is either dead or out of commission. Without Paimon, Bebal and Abalam will be thrashing around like a snake with its head lopped off. We’ll put them off the track if we hide here for a while.”
At least that was my hope.
Jacob and Olympia, who could apparently sleep under any circumstance, were soon snoring lightly. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but my nerves were still buzzing from the battle. I’d been close to death many times in my years with the Venandi, but never as close as I’d been today. But when I saw Bebal bearing down on me with that stake, I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was afraid of losing Georgia.
As if she could read my thoughts, Georgia leaned against me and took my hand. Heat radiated from her skin. She gave a deep sigh.
“I still can’t believe what happened back there,” she said. “Some family reunion, huh?”
“I’m sure there have been worse,” I lied.
“I really fucked up back there. I don’t know what happened. I could have killed us all.”
“What happened was that you saw your mother die. You’re human, or half-human. Any one of us would have frozen at a time like that.”
“Maybe. But I still felt useless, and my mother is gone. As much as I hate to say it, that’s a huge relief. I could tell she was suffering. That was no kind of life for anyone, even for someone who abandons her child. And my father . . .”
She broke down. I felt Georgia shudder as sobs wracked her body. I tried to imagine what it must have felt like to stand in the shadow of a demon king, feeling repulsed and horrified yet knowing his blood ran through your veins. And what it must have felt like to set him on fire, to smell the stench of his burning flesh and to know that flesh was part of you.
I put my arm around Georgia’s shoulder and pulled her close to me.
“One thing I can tell you,” I whispered, “is that you’re not alone. You will never be alone, not as long as I’m living and breathing.”
I took Georgia’s
face in my hands and looked into her incredible eyes.
“Remember before we left the warehouse, when you said we didn’t have a commitment?” I asked. “Well, I want one. I want a commitment. I want us to be together, not just as teammates but as a couple.”
She didn’t say anything, but I could tell by the light in her eyes that she wanted the same thing. She melted into me, and the depth and heat of her kiss told me everything I needed to know. I’d never felt that kind of passion from her—a hunger that came from her soul as well as her heart. Every cell in my being longed to merge with her, to be inside her and all around her, and that desire was almost more than I could bear.
Olympia rolled over and groaned in her sleep. Jacob snorted as he caught his breath in mid-snore. Georgia and I stopped, our lips still joined.
“We’d better not,” she whispered. “They’re only a few feet away.”
We nestled against each other, wrapped in each other’s arms. I nuzzled her soft hair, kissed the nape of her neck. As much as my body craved her, it craved rest even more. Before I knew it, my eyes had closed, and I fell into a deep sleep.
I woke to the crash of shattering glass and the shriek of high wind. I don’t know how long I’d been sleeping, but the sacristy was dark. I sat up and tried to get my bearings. Olympia and Jacob were stirring woozily under their blankets.
“What the fuck?” Jacob muttered. “Is this another storm or something?”
I jumped up, unlocked the door, and threw it open. Georgia and Jacob ran with me into the chapel. The simple, tidy place of worship had been turned into ground zero of a hurricane. Missals flew through the air, torn apart by the wind that blasted through the shattered stained-glass window. Jagged shards of red glass skidded across the floor, the remnants of the crucifixion. Outside the gaping window, black clouds gathered in a mass of fury.
Olympia followed us, screaming spells to stop the wind, but the gale was too powerful for her magic.
“Georgia! Olympia! Get down!” I shouted. A funnel of wind spun from the sky and coiled through the open window, gliding into the holy space like an evil serpent. Olympia ducked behind a wooden pew, but Georgia hesitated a second too long. Before she could hit the floor, the funnel swept her off her feet and dragged her screaming through the air.