Demon of Darkness

by Andrea Pearson

  His roving eyes landed on me, and he yelped.

  “Magical fire doesn’t stop me,” I said. I frowned at him. “I need something from you.”

  I stormed to his side, dropping next to him. He did nothing to stop me. He was too wounded now. “Shift, dog. Shift into your elevated form.”

  Conor growled, baring his teeth. Yeah, he was telling me there wasn’t a chance he’d obey me. I didn’t fail to notice the fact that his burns were quickly healing. I didn’t have much time.

  I held up Lord Kenan’s head. “It’s over. You’re the last hound left.” I laughed. “Here you thought you were the most powerful, that I was scared to attack you. But you have no idea how easy it will be for me to destroy you.”

  He growled again, his hackles raising as his burns healed.

  “Come on, Conor. Shift. I want to see this ‘elevated form’ everyone is talking about.” I chuckled. “For all we know, Lord Kenan turned you into a harmless kitten and you’re not even aware of how pathetic you look.”

  He attacked before I was ready for him, his jaws going straight for my throat. With strength from the amulet, I barely held him off.

  “You’re going to have to try harder than that,” I said, rolling out from under him, scrambling to my feet, losing Lord Kenan’s head in the process. I almost pulled out one of the guns Abel had given me, but didn’t. It wouldn’t do me much good right then. Conor still needed to shift.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s see your kitten side.”

  Conor almost lunged at me again, then paused, seeming to make a decision. I waited, hands raised in the universal “Well?” sign.

  He finally squatted slightly, his body trembling. I watched in fascination as spikes grew from his joints, head, and shoulders. They were covered with blood—his own. It dripped off, showing bone-white underneath. His fur disappeared, revealing muscles and tendons that rippled with strength. His tail grew until it was at least three feet long.

  And then he attacked. This time I was ready. What I wasn’t ready for was just how incredibly fast he was now. And strong—so much stronger. He lunged at me, knocking me down before swiping back with his paw, slicing my jeans open by my knee. I couldn’t tell if he’d gotten flesh. Too much adrenaline flooded my system.

  I again rolled to my feet, so grateful for the dancing lessons my mom had inflicted on me. I pulled out a knife—the nearest weapon to my hand—and blocked his swipes and attacks. I realized quickly that I would tire far before he would. I needed to end this. But how?

  Snuff his flame, the amulet said.

  But I need to get his spike first.

  It’ll still be there, for a brief moment, after he dies.

  How do you know?

  I wasn’t blind when you attacked Governor Boggs.

  I blinked, dodging another attack. It had never occurred to me that the amulet wouldn’t have been effected by the blackness. But of course it wouldn’t be—it had guided me through the dark, after all.

  Get closer to him. You can do this.

  I tightened my grip on the knife. Taking a deep breath, I relied fully on my dance training, letting the amulet help me. And then I danced complicated steps around Conor, keeping up with him, springing within his grasp and getting out just as easily. We whirled around one another, me getting closer to him each time.

  And then, when the hound lunged at me, I reached for his fire instead of trying to stop him.

  Kill?

  Kill.

  I saw the panic in his eyes just as his fire snuffed out. Conor slumped to the ground.

  I was done. I’d taken care of all the evil hounds. A sense of victory flooded over me. Conor was dead.

  Before the spikes disappeared, I scrambled around the massive creature and cut the longest spike from his shoulder blade. It broke off from the bone easier than I expected. Had it not finished fusing to his skeletal structure? How long ago had Lord Kenan granted Conor the elevated form, anyway? Or maybe this form was more for show and speed than anything. Maybe the spikes weren’t meant for attacking, just intimidating.

  Spike in hand, I grabbed Lord Kenan’s head again, carrying it by the hair, and stepped through the ring of fire.

  I approached where the battle still raged and raised Lord Kenan’s head in one hand and the spike in the other.

  “Your lord and master is dead,” I said. “And we will destroy you if you don’t stop fighting.”

  My voice didn’t carry far, but it was enough. Lord Kenan’s army—what remained of it—lowered their weapons in confusion, obviously recognizing his head.

  I wasn’t sure if they were still under his power, but it seemed that the ifrits’ demon didn’t care. Now that nothing was stopping him, he took advantage of their hesitation and dispatched the remainder of our enemies.

  Bodies were everywhere. I stepped to the side of where most of the fighting had occurred, anxious to get back to where Lord Kenan’s body waited. I had to finish him off while I had the chance.

  Mist swirled next to me, and Vincent appeared. “We must take care of him immediately.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s where I’m going.”

  “Where is his body?”

  I pointed toward the trail. “Down there. I’ll take you.”

  Vincent and I rushed that way, sliding to a stop next to Lord Kenan. I wasn’t surprised to see that the stakes were no longer stabbed into him and the bullet wounds had disappeared. In fact, no trace of blood remained on his entire body. I looked at the head I still carried and saw that it too had healed from the burns.

  “We have to move fast,” Vincent said. “Start a fire on him.”

  “Why? I only need to stake him with this.” I held up Conor’s spike.

  “Yes, that is necessary, but he’s still a fire vampire, even without his flame. We must destroy every part of him—every magical part.”

  I still hesitated. “We just studied everything about him we could get our hands on. It mentioned nothing about starting him on fire as part of permanently destroying him. Are you sure it won’t mess things up? I don’t want to take any risks.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. There doesn’t exist a library that contains all the information about Lord Kenan.” Vincent looked me square in the eye. “Trust me on this one, Miss Ashton. I’ve known him for a very, very long time.”

  I did as he asked, building a fire on Lord Kenan’s chest. I gasped when he struggled to a sitting position, grabbing the head from my hands. Before he could attach it back to his neck, though, I kicked it away from him. Vincent wrestled Lord Kenan back down, pinning his arms to the ground.

  “Spread the flame! Once it covers his entire torso, stake him with the hound’s spike.”

  I urged the fires to grow, to claim more of his body. Something was fighting me, though, and I wondered if it was Lord Kenan himself. But he couldn’t possibly control my flames. Not unless he really truly had grasped Fire Arete powers.

  Realizing if that were true, I’d need to work harder than I ever had before. Not knowing just how strong this demon was, I gathered as much magic to myself as possible, then pushed all of it to Lord Kenan.

  My fire grew slowly, inch by inch. Tendril by tendril. I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing it more and more. He broke free from Vincent and swung out, punching me square on the jaw.

  I sprawled backward, not losing my grip on the flames, but realizing Vincent needed help holding the guy down. Jumping to my feet, ignoring the throbbing in my jaw, I lunged to Vincent’s side. I held down Lord Kenan’s other arm, pinching it to the ground under my knees.

  And then I focused all of my energy on the fire.

  Help me please, I begged the amulet.

  Will do.

  Maybe someday we’d get to the point where I wouldn’t need to ask every time I needed help, but for now, I was grateful the amulet could help at all.

  I felt my brain strengthen and my limbs fill with renewed energy. The fire burst forward, covering Lord Kenan’s entire torso.

&
nbsp; “Yes! That’s it! Stab him now!”

  I raised the spike, plunging it through the flames and into the demon’s heart.

  He flailed around, his head screaming from wherever it had landed.

  And then he froze, the fire eating up every inch of him. I looked away, not wanting to watch.

  Vincent hesitatingly released Lord Kenan’s arm. When the demon didn’t fight again or try to get up, he turned into mist and then returned, holding Lord Kenan’s head.

  “Every bit of him has to be burned in the same flame,” Vincent said. “But we’d better wait until enough damage is done to where he can’t reattach his head.”

  The two of us stood there, watching. Well, Vincent watched and I glanced occasionally. I didn’t want to remember any of this.

  I itched to go find Abel and my friends, but that had to wait until I was absolutely positive Lord Kenan had been taken care of. He was my priority.

  Finally, Vincent declared the body ready. He glanced at me. “Would you like to do the honors?”

  “No, thank you. I carried that thing around long enough. Besides, I stabbed him to the heart. That was plenty exciting for me.”

  Vincent tossed the head into the flames. At that point, Lord Kenan’s body was unrecognizable. I appreciated that.

  Soon, all that remained were ashes. I urged the fire to continue, though.

  Moments later, Vincent put a hand on my shoulder. “It is done. You may release your flames.”

  I did so, feeling as my magic abandoned the flames. They died quickly.

  Pulling out several leather bags and a little shovel from a knapsack, Vincent separated the ashes into the bags, tying them up.

  “Here, take it,” he said, handing me one. “I’ll let you know what to do with it later.”

  I accepted the bag, holding it away from me. I wanted nothing to do with it. But I was willing to go along with whatever Vincent planned. He hadn’t led me astray yet.

  Finally, we headed back up to the battle. It had ended. None of Lord Kenan’s army appeared to have survived. I suppose that shouldn’t have surprised me, not with the ifrits’ demon taking so many out when I’d yelled about Lord Kenan being dead.

  Coolidge and Austin were shouting at each other. I had to smile. They’d both obviously met their thresholds. Coolidge was telling Austin who he was, and Austin was yelling that he didn’t care.

  But where was Abel?

  I started climbing through the wreckage, looking everywhere. I couldn’t find him. I asked for help from the fire vampires and they willingly assisted me, disappearing and reappearing, turning over bodies, hunting and helping.

  We finally found him.

  I dropped to my knees next to him, visibly examining him before placing a finger against his neck.

  He didn’t have a pulse.

  Abel was dead.

  44

  Tears poured down my face. The only person I truly loved was gone.

  “He’s dead,” I whispered. I choked on a sob when I realized something else. “I can’t sense his magic! He’s dead!”

  Hamza stumbled up next to me, his arm hanging loosely by his side, an expression of pain on his face. “Are you certain?”

  I nodded, sobbing. “He doesn’t have a pulse.”

  “But . . . he doesn’t look dead. And trust me, I know death.” With great effort, Hamza squatted down next to me. “Are you certain he doesn’t have a pulse?”

  I put my finger to the correct spot on his neck again, and this time, I held it there for a long while. Finally, something ticked under my finger. “I . . . Oh, my gosh, I think I felt it.”

  “He’s gravely wounded,” Vincent said. “But as your friend mentioned, he doesn’t look dead.”

  I clung to hope that he would pull through. But how? He had so many injuries and wounds. I was amazed he had a pulse at all. No wonder I hadn’t felt it at first. He must have lost so much blood.

  “We need paramedics and ambulances,” I said.

  With shaking hands, I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Chief’s number.

  “Lizzie! Are you okay? We were just trying to decide if I should send up a squadron to help with the battle.”

  I shook my head, my eyes not leaving Abel’s face. “No, don’t do that. It’s all over now. We need ambulances, though. And as much first-responder help as you can send. We’re still up Grove Canyon.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Thank you.” My voice caught, and I quickly ended the call, not wanting to start crying again.

  Coolidge found us then, dropping to his knees next to me. “Is he alive?” he yelled.

  I nodded. “Yes, but barely.”

  Finally pushing aside my stress and panic, I started thinking the way Abel would. We needed to bandage him, to stop the flow of blood.

  Pulling out one of the many knives Abel had given me, I began cutting off his clothes. Coolidge and I both gasped at what we saw. He was slashed everywhere. And some of those wounds were incredibly deep. There was no way he’d survive this. No way at all.

  Fresh tears threatened to come, but I pushed them aside. Abel needed my help. He wouldn’t pull through if I didn’t get a grip and patch him up.

  With Coolidge’s help, we started bandaging him, using strips of gauze and medical tape that Vincent brought from Abel’s duffel. I was grateful my boyfriend was always so well prepared.

  I felt as Coolidge began sending magic to Abel.

  “What are you doing?” I said to him loudly, knowing he’d have a hard time hearing me. “You’re too close to your threshold. If you do this, it’ll cause permanent damage.”

  Coolidge put a hand on my arm, his eyes serious. “His wounds need to clot.” He took a breath. “I’ve been around for a long time, and if I overdo it, yes, it would be awful, but I’d still have a functioning life and a family. This man has barely started his life, Lizzie. And I know how much he means to you. I’m not about to let him die, even if it destroys my ability to use magic.”

  Not waiting for my response, Coolidge turned back to Abel and started sending his powers to the cuts again. I hadn’t even been aware that Arete magic had the ability to do what he was doing.

  He started with the most serious injuries and focused outward from there. Austin and Dave joined us a moment later, and Austin insisted on taking over.

  Coolidge collapsed, unconscious.

  I fretted, not sure how to help, wishing I could clot wounds too, and checking Abel’s pulse frequently.

  It wasn’t getting stronger.

  45

  By the time the ambulances finally arrived, Abel was no longer bleeding. His breathing was so shallow, I almost couldn’t detect it, and I knew if he didn’t get a transfusion soon, he wouldn’t make it. Paramedics and cops rushed up the hill, and a helicopter was radioed in.

  Abel was the most critically injured, and they allowed me to ride in the helicopter with him. I held his hand the whole way, no longer fighting the tears.

  He was taken to the nearest hospital and wheeled on a gurney into the OR, where I couldn’t follow. Instead, I paced the waiting room, knowing I needed to relax and rest, but unable to do so.

  I hadn’t been there for very long when other injured people from the battle started arriving. Hamza and Martin were both brought in ambulances.

  Austin, his dad, and Coolidge got there, wanting to keep me company. None of the fire vampires or ifrits came, but I hadn’t expected them to. They would care for their own. I didn’t think the ifrits had even been directly involved in the battle. And what had happened to their demon? I hadn’t stayed around long enough to find out.

  I had to wait a long time for an update. And after I heard what the nurse had to say, I realized that waiting at the hospital was pointless. They’d just finished fixing up one wound and had started another.

  He had at least seven major surgeries still ahead of him.

  According to the nurse, things were looking grim. She informed me that in a couple o
f hours, another doctor would take over, and the operation would continue.

  “I know this might be hard to gauge, but do you know about how much longer until he’s out of the OR?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “We don’t even understand how he’s still alive. The amount of damage he’s endured is phenomenal. It’ll be at least twelve hours, if not more, before he’s finished. And I’m betting on it taking longer than that.”

  The nurse put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Go home, Miss Ashton, and get some food and rest. Our citizens need you to be healthy and whole. We can’t bounce back without your help.”

  I nodded, feeling tears spring to my eyes. I sent a silent thank you to the elderly man for helping turn the opinions of the citizens where I was concerned. What a blessing.

  I checked in on Hamza and thanked him, then let him know I was heading home to rest. He waved me off with his good arm. “My return flight is in a few hours. Martin and I plan to ask to be discharged so we can head home and finish healing there.”

  I stepped to his side. “Thank you so much for coming. I really, really appreciate it.”

  “It was no problem. A favor for a favor, eh?”

  “Exactly.”

  “If you’re ever in Iraq again, look me up.”

  A smile was in his eyes, and I could tell he knew I’d never go to Iraq again if I could help it. Still, I promised to do so, and we exchanged goodbyes.

  Austin, his dad, Coolidge, and I piled into Austin’s car and headed to my house. We were just pulling up when I remembered that the Russells had been fighting with us. Crap. How could I have forgotten them? I rushed to their house and knocked on the door.

  Mr. Russell answered. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were dirty, and a cheeseburger was in one hand.

  “Boy, you look like you’ve seen a lot,” he said with a smile.

  I returned the smile. “You don’t look much better yourself. Are you and Mrs. Russell okay?”

  “Tell her we’re fine,” Mrs. Russell called from somewhere in the house. “And that she’d better get home and rest before I make her.”