Fury Unleashed

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Fury Unleashed Page 22

by N. J. Walters


  Before she could head toward the exit, he stepped into her path, forcing her to either stop or run into him. Coming to a halt, she stared at his chest before giving a sigh and raising her gaze.

  Maccus looked as he always did—grim and resigned.

  The time for talking was over. It was time for action. “Time’s wasting.” She pushed past him, not surprised when he let her pass. After all, there was nothing left to say.

  …

  Maccus hated that she’d changed her clothes. It was such a little thing, but he still didn’t like it. It was as though she was trying to separate herself from him.

  All the easier to kill him.

  He walked behind her, keeping a watch on her back. She was so preoccupied with facing her sister that anyone could come up behind her.

  Every extra sense he possessed screamed this was a trap. They both knew it, but there was no other choice. They either did this now or waited until another night. It was going to happen, one way or another.

  And he’d never been good at waiting. Would much rather fight than sit home and wonder when his enemies would attack.

  What Morrigan didn’t seem to fully understand was that it didn’t matter what happened to her or Kayley. They were nothing more than pawns. Hell, even he wasn’t the main prize. No, this was a pissing contest between Lucifer and Gabriel, between Hell and Heaven.

  If he went over the edge and started on a killing spree, both sides would blame the other for his behavior. Then they would work together to bring him down. As soon as they’d accomplished that, they’d turn on one other. He wasn’t even sure whether Gabriel or Lucifer had reasoned things out that far. Lucifer likely had. He was a planner, while Gabriel was more about the now.

  Maccus was nothing more than the final piece that would tip the scales and allow for full battle.

  The tentative peace that had lasted since the beginning of mankind would be over.

  God help them then.

  He almost laughed. God hadn’t taken much interest in any of them for a very long time. It was why both angels had gotten bolder. Because he might have been the first fallen, but Lucifer was still very much an angel. A warped version of one, but an angel, nonetheless.

  There wasn’t much separating them these days, other than the fact the archangel was sneakier, not actually defying any rules of Heaven. He skated them, he pushed them, but he hadn’t crossed the line. At least not yet.

  Hell, his fall didn’t even count as breaking the rules. As his commanding officer, it had been within Gabriel’s right to discipline him. There was no rule to say he couldn’t take Maccus’s wings and push him from Heaven. Only it had never been done before. Certainly hadn’t been done since.

  But falling didn’t always mean dying. After all, Lucifer had fallen. But his former friend had always believed him too weak to survive.

  Or had he? Maybe he’d thought Maccus too strong, and that had worried him. He’d never quite been sure why Gabriel had turned on him. After a while, it had ceased to matter.

  When Morrigan stopped, he did, too. He’d let his mind drift, something he couldn’t afford to do. He slammed his memories back into their vault and shut the door. There was no changing the past.

  His heart rate was steady; all his senses were open and receptive. As the landscape and buildings came into better focus, he picked through the various sounds that reached him, cataloging them. The air was redolent with the stench of the city—exhaust, sweat, and garbage mixed with perfumes and the smells from various nearby restaurants.

  The gallery was closed, the lights off. Through the glass windows, the bare walls were visible. It was as though there’d never been a showing the night before.

  “This is the right place.” Morrigan cupped her hand to her eyes to cut down on the glare from the streetlight and peered inside. “It’s empty. They worked fast.”

  He went to the door, grabbed the handle, and pulled. It was locked, but that didn’t stop him. “Shall we?”

  “Good idea.” She led the way, and he let her. This was her hunt. Time to take a step back and observe, get the lay of the land before making any plans of his own.

  “Even the floors have been cleaned.” She strode boldly from room to room. He followed, allowing his gaze to sweep up and down. People rarely looked up, a failing that often got them killed.

  This was too easy. Maccus took a step forward and grabbed her arm, stopping her before she entered the final room, the one farthest from the road, from people and any prying eyes. Another woman might have screamed or demanded to know what he was doing. But Morrigan was a hunter and immediately took a defensive crouch and pulled her weapons, not making a sound.

  He motioned toward the ceiling. She glanced up, and he could almost hear her swearing in her head. There were demons there—sleeping demons that would wake only if someone crossed the threshold. It was a common enough trap, one that took little planning.

  She took a cautious step back. “What now?” Her voice was low, though there was no need. These demons would sleep for a thousand years unless someone entered the room or Lucifer retrieved them.

  “Alley or office?” Those were their two choices.

  “Office first,” she decided. Taking the lead once again, she made her way toward the other end of the gallery. This time they were a bit more cautious but encountered no other traps. Like the rest of the space, it was empty.

  “It’s as though she never existed.” He hated the melancholy in her voice.

  On a hunch, he pulled out his phone and searched for Kayley Quill. There was nothing. No website or social media, no mention of any of her paintings. Only yesterday, she’d been a celebrated painter with a reputation in the art world, a penthouse apartment, and a huge bank account. Now there was nothing.

  He showed his search to Morrigan. She swallowed heavily. “He’s erased her. It’s as though she’s never lived, never been an artist. That’s not right.” She looked to him for confirmation. “That’s not fair.”

  Leaning against the wall, she sighed and rubbed her hand over her face. “What does this mean?”

  Lucifer was flexing his muscles, reminding them he was very powerful. He’d say all-powerful, but no one had that distinction as far as Maccus was concerned. The minute you started thinking that way, you were doomed. There was always someone with greater strength or influence. Even if there weren’t, it was only a matter of time. That was a law of nature. Change was inevitable.

  It was too damn quiet. “Let’s go.”

  She pushed away from the wall and left the empty office. Instead of heading toward the back entrance, which would take them through the demon trap, or to the front door, Morrigan made a beeline for the fire exit.

  Without hesitation, she put her back to the panel and pushed, leaving her hands free. Gun raised and knife at the ready, she stepped into the alleyway.

  He was right behind her.

  It was empty. One of the security lights had been smashed, leaving the area in shadows. Whether it had happened during their battle a few nights back or someone had done it since, he couldn’t say. And that bothered him. Those were the kinds of details he never missed.

  Being with Morrigan was messing with his precision.

  The air was still tainted with the smell of blood and the stench of sulfur. There was a slight scuffling sound off to his left. He spun around to face the threat. Morrigan stepped in front of him.

  “Come out, Kayley.”

  The woman who emerged from behind the dumpster was not the same one he’d met before.

  …

  Whatever had happened to her sister hadn’t been pleasant. Gone was the sexy siren in the red dress. Oh, she was still wearing the dress, only it was stained and torn. Her feet were bare. Several of her fingernails were jagged or missing. And her once-glorious red hair had been hacked off, leaving it a ragged halo aroun
d her head. Her carefully applied makeup was smudged, leaving her eyes blackened. Red lipstick streaked up one corner of her mouth, giving her a grotesque, lopsided smile.

  Her eyes, which had been a lovely green, were now tinged with red.

  Morrigan’s heart raced, and her palms were sweaty. She hadn’t been this nervous since her first demon hunt. The cuffs in her back pocket vibrated, as they always did when her target was close.

  But this was no ordinary demon. This was her baby sister. And no matter what she’d done, she didn’t deserve this. No one did.

  “Kayley.” Was there anything left of the little girl she’d grown up with, or the brash, confident woman she’d met last night?

  Her sister hissed, fingers curling into claws.

  Morrigan carefully tucked her gun back into her holster but kept her knife at the ready. She had no idea what her sister’s mental state was but had to assume the worst.

  “Kayley, honey, it’s Morrigan.” Was that a flicker of recognition?

  Maccus stirred behind her. Kayley reacted as though she’d been shot. Her back slammed into the brick wall, and her teeth began to chatter.

  “Maybe you better stay back.”

  “Hesgoingtokillme. Hesgoingtokillme.” She said the words so fast they ran together. Morrigan didn’t understand them at first. But as her sister kept chanting them, she finally was able to decipher them.

  “No, he’s not going to kill you,” she assured Kayley.

  A low grumbling sound came from behind her. She didn’t have time to deal with both of them and wasn’t sure which was the more volatile.

  “Kayley, you need to come with me.” She kept using her sister’s name in hopes of making an emotional connection.

  The fearful expression in her eyes vanished, replaced by cunning. “No. Don’t make me go back. I’m not brave like you. I don’t belong there.”

  She wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears but didn’t dare. It was like a knife to the heart to hear her sister’s pitiful plea. “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “You saved me before. You can do it again. Please.”

  She rubbed her chest before she realized what she was doing. Had her heart ever hurt so badly?

  Maybe if she went to Hell with Kayley, she could protect her. A sense of inevitable doom descended on her. Yeah, she couldn’t even protect herself. There wasn’t anything she could do for her sister.

  Something niggled in the back of her brain, some piece of information she needed.

  Kill Maccus. It was like a low whisper in the back of her mind. Kill him, and I’m free. So is Kayley. It’s so easy. He trusts me now.

  She shook her head, refusing to listen to the voice. The cuffs in her pocket seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. It took every ounce of strength she had to pull them out.

  Tears tracked down Kayley’s cheeks. “You love him more than you love me.” More child then woman now, her sister slid down the wall, wrapped her arms around her knees, and rocked back and forth. “You don’t love me.”

  Surely, she must be bleeding. Nothing Lucifer had ever done to her in Hell had equaled this, and she’d been beaten bloody and had strips of skin peeled from her body.

  Physical torture either killed you or you recovered from it. Mental torture never truly healed.

  She crept toward her sister, making no sudden movements. When she was only a couple of feet away, she crouched. As much as she ached to hug her sister, she couldn’t trust her. Could sense the demon in her. See it in the tinge of red in her eyes.

  Or maybe that was only their father’s blood coming out. If Maccus was to be believed, they’d already had demon blood in them.

  “I do love you, but it will only be worse if you don’t go back voluntarily.” She wanted to smash the cuffs against the wall, but that would solve nothing. And until she got them on Kayley, her sister was volatile and dangerous.

  “I’ll go with you,” she promised. Not that it was much of a vow as it was more likely Lucifer would just yank her back. Something tickled the back of her brain again, but she ignored it. There was no more time to think about what might have been. There was only what was right in front of her.

  “Put your hand out. Don’t make me hurt you.” Usually, she had no problem slamming a demon around. They were tough and could take it. Plus, they’d violated the rules. But had Kayley really done that? She was a pawn sent here by Lucifer to torture them both.

  She was as much a victim in this as Morrigan.

  Maccus wasn’t a victim. He was a fallen angel. Didn’t he belong in Hell with the rest of the demons? He’d escaped. Wasn’t it the duty of a bounty hunter to bring him back?

  Shaken to the core, she slowly straightened, cuffs still in hand. It would be so easy to put the cuffs on him, render him helpless, and take him back. For such a prize, Lucifer would free her and her sister.

  She clasped her hands to her head. “Get out of my mind.” Pain shot through her skull. Her knife dropped to the alley floor, clattering on the dirt and rock. She was going to be sick.

  Kayley scuttled forward, making a grab for the weapon. Instinct made Morrigan slam her foot onto the blade. Someone might be torturing her, but she had been tested these past ten years. She wasn’t weak.

  “Get the fuck out of my head.” She screamed the demand and shoved with all her mental might. The tension lessened and then increased. She gritted her teeth and pushed again, not giving in, not giving up.

  Liquid trickled down her lip. Her nose was bleeding. Maybe her eyes, too. She didn’t let up, didn’t stop fighting.

  Finally, like popping a cork from a bottle, the pressure released.

  Bent over, hands on her thighs, she panted for breath. When she figured she wasn’t in any danger of puking, she reached down and retrieved her knife. Kayley was back against the wall, silent and watchful.

  When she swiped at her nose, her hand came away bloody. She wiped it on her pants. Not the first time they’d had blood on them.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Maccus watched intently, his arms loose by his sides, legs slightly bent. He’d removed his jacket and shirt at some point, leaving him bare from the waist up. His tattoos pulsed as though alive. His eyes were as black as the deepest pit of Hell, his mouth grim.

  Give him a scythe, and he’d be the Grim Reaper. No doubt he’d be very good at harvesting souls. No one would escape him.

  What had she been thinking? He didn’t need her to save him. He could save himself and would. It was time to start worrying about herself and Kayley.

  The wall in front of her melted before her very eyes, the bricks swirling. Smoke poured from the opening. Lucifer stepped out, and he was smiling.

  Morrigan stuffed the cuffs in her pocket and tightened her grip on the knife.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A calm indifference descended over Maccus, a sensation he’d experienced a million times before. He was good at disassociating himself from pain and emotion, at focusing on what needed to be done. It was necessary in order to read his enemy so he could defeat them.

  And everyone was his enemy.

  No exception.

  Not even Morrigan. Especially not her. There’d been a surge of dark power around her. Lucifer had been trying to influence her. She’d fought so hard her nose had bled, her face a portrait of relentless pain.

  He couldn’t expect her to do it again.

  The devil stepped out of the portal. “Such a waste.” He tilted his head toward Kayley and gave a negligent shrug. “She was such a fun toy to play with, and now she’s broken. Oh well. Plenty more where she came from.” Then he laughed.

  Maccus expected Morrigan to launch herself at the devil, but she held her ground. He ignored the urge to go to her, to protect and reassure.

  They were all fighting their own battles.

  “And you.” Lucifer tu
rned to him and let his gaze wander over the tattoos that covered his chest and arms. “You look ready to fight. It’s a shame I can’t engage in a battle on the human realm.” Then he turned to Morrigan and smiled. “But she can.”

  Here it comes. As much as he’d expected this to happen, it made his bones ache.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Lucifer gave a negligent shrug and tugged the cuffs down on his designer suit. “Seems a shame to leave your sister like that.” He motioned to the younger woman, who was still curled up in a ball against the wall. “You’re the oldest. You’re supposed to take care of her, aren’t you? Isn’t that what your mother told you on her deathbed?”

  He held up his hand, and a bubble appeared. It was like watching a movie. An older woman lay in a hospital bed, struggling to speak. “Take care of Kayley,” she said in a weak, trembling voice.

  “Mom.” Morrigan’s voice broke, and a lone tear trickled down her cheek.

  Maccus’s list of reasons why the devil deserved to die was long and detailed, but making her cry was now at the top.

  Lucifer closed his hand, and the image disappeared. “I fear you’re something of a disappointment to your mother. Such a shame.”

  “What do you want?” Maccus demanded, tired of the games.

  “World domination,” he quickly replied. “But I’ll settle for you gone.” The smile he gave was chilling. “And she’s going to give it to me.”

  “Why are you so threatened by me?” It puzzled him. “You’re the undisputed leader of Hell. I’ve been gone from your realm for a very long time. And trust me when I tell you I have no plans on returning.”

  Lucifer hissed, his eyes turning blood red, his facial features shimmering until his devil’s face appeared. Morrigan gasped, Kayley whimpered, but Maccus didn’t turn away.

  The image faded, and his human mask returned. “I don’t like loose ends. Plus, it encourages bad behavior among the demons. Kill him, bounty hunter.”

  Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “No.”

  Maccus didn’t take any solace from her reply. This was just getting started.

 

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