by S. M. Reine
“Can I get you anything else for the exorcism?” Malcolm asked as she took her belongings from James and pulled the spine scabbard on like a backpack. “Holy water? Bell, book, and candle? Young priest and an old priest?”
“Privacy,” she said.
“That’s a good one. You know the Union records everything, right?”
“Exactly. Turn off your cameras. Leave this room. Don’t watch us.”
“We have regulations against that.”
“Of course you do,” James muttered.
Elise caught the commander’s gaze. “Please.”
“Oh, bugger. Why not?” Malcolm pushed a chair into the corner, climbed onto it, and plucked wires out of the back of the camera that pointed at the window. “If I get demoted, I expect you to make room for me on your couch.”
She snorted. “You’ll have to buy me a couch first.”
Malcolm laughed and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “God, I don’t like you. I don’t think I’ve ever liked you. But you are fun as hell. Try not to kill this guy, all right?”
He left, and the door into the hall gave a solid, satisfying click as it closed behind him.
It left Elise with nothing but the door into Anthony’s room, a chain of golden charms, and a sick sense of inevitability.
“The sooner we do it, the better, I suppose,” James said, moving toward the cell.
Elise stepped in front of the door. “Actually, I wanted total privacy.” When he only looked at her blankly, she added, “Including from you.”
“But we’ve always piggybacked before you performed an exorcism.”
“I know.”
“That means I would see everything that happens in that room anyway.” James dropped his warding ring onto the table and waited expectantly.
She sighed and twisted the ring off her thumb.
The magic wore off, and Elise’s mind blossomed like a flower facing the sun. His thoughts and senses washed over her. There was magic threaded through the fiber of the room, from the wards on Anthony’s chair to the light hanging from the ceiling. It dazzled with crystalline energy.
Elise didn’t really want to see herself through James’s eyes, but she had little choice. She always looked awful, and that day was worse than usual. A unit of James’s blood hadn’t completely restored her color, and it had done nothing for her shadowed eyes and bandaged shoulder.
After a minute of deep, controlled breathing, she was back in her own head again. She entered the cell before his emotions could hit.
Anthony didn’t react to their presence, but Yatai’s energy was palpable in the room. It made the air feel thick, as though she had to swim to Anthony’s chair. James felt it, too, but he wasn’t as accustomed to forcing his way past infernal energy. He hesitated to cross the threshold.
Elise kneeled in front of Anthony, getting low enough to see his face underneath the veil of his bangs. His eyes were closed. His skin was soaked with sweat. She reached up to smooth the hair out of his face.
Anthony’s eyes opened.
He grimaced with pain and lifted his head. “Oh man , my neck hurts,” he groaned. His fingers twitched, like he was going to try to rub away the aches, but he could barely jiggle his arm within the restraints. Anthony’s eyes fell on the ropes.
Panic flashed over his face. He shook his seat, making the legs scrape against the floor.
“Relax,” she said. “Don’t fight. You’ll hurt yourself.”
His eyes flicked from Elise, to James, to the door, to the mirrored wall. “Where am I?”
“We’re in a Union warehouse.”
“Why am I…?” He pulled on his wrists again. Fresh blood welled under the ropes, and he hissed.
Elise glanced at James, uncertain of what she should tell him. There usually wasn’t much point in talking to someone who was possessed. If they were conscious enough to understand, they wouldn’t believe it. And once the demon took over, it didn’t matter, anyway.
“We’re trying to help you,” James said.
Anthony gave a harsh laugh. “Help me? By tying me to a chair? Let me go, guys.” Elise looped the chain of charms around her fist. He froze. “What are you doing with those?”
She circled the chair silently. It was James who responded. “Remember that we’re your friends. We aren’t trying to hurt you, and this will be over quickly.”
“What is ‘this’? Elise?” He craned around, trying to see behind him. “Elise!”
“Crux sacra sit mihi lux.”
The chain of charms flared with power. And just as they had during Zohak’s exorcism, they immediately grew warm. She focused on the strength she shared with James.
“You can’t exorcise me,” Anthony said. “I’m not possessed!”
“Non draco sit mihi dux.”
His mirthless laughter turned to panting, and then small cries. He twisted his fists.
A ragged cry ripped from his throat.
“Elise!”
“Vade retro, Satana, ” she went on in a low voice as the chain grew hotter.
James’s thoughts ran underneath hers—what is she doing, she isn’t focusing her energy at all, this isn’t going to work—and she pushed it away.
Elise’s spoke softer than before. “Nunquam suade mihi vana. Sunt mala quae libas—”
Anthony screamed. He flung his head back, smacking it against the back of the chair, and his biceps strained as he tried to lift his hips. The harder he fought, the brighter the warding symbols on the wood burned.
“—ipse venena bibas,” she finished.
He stopped fighting. Anthony slumped again, his head hanging over his shoulders as he sagged.
Elise flung the burning charms to the ground. Heat turned the metal molten white.
“That can’t be it,” James said.
She stepped back. “It’s not.”
The demonic energy hadn’t left Anthony. In fact, using the prayer of St. Benedict had only intensified the fire burning over his skin. The tension in the room heightened. Her blood felt slow in its veins.
Anthony’s head lifted again.
This time, he didn’t struggle. His face was slack, his mouth hung open, and his drooping eyes were no longer brown—the irises had turned as black as the abyss that Yatai had tunneled through the earth, except that she had burrowed through his mind.
The lone light bulb in the center of the ceiling flickered.
Yatai had come.
Shadows slithered from Anthony, extending tendrils to each corner of the room. The eggshell white walls dimmed. Trying to exorcise me again? I thought you would have learned that it’s impossible by now.
“I did.”
Then you waste your time as well as mine.
“Not exactly. I thought you might let him go.”
Her chuckle was identical to Yatam’s. It poured over her skin like a cold kiss and stirred deep within her belly. Why would I do that?
“Because I can give you what you want.” She struggled to take a deep breath in the thick air, steeling herself. “I can kill you.” James’s gaze fell on her. She felt his silent incredulity, and ignored it. “You don’t have to destroy the entire city to die. There are other ways.”
Yatai was silent for so long that if Anthony’s eyes hadn’t been so dark, she might have been certain the demon was gone.
When she spoke again, she wasn’t quite so confident.
I am eternal.
“And I’m the Godslayer.”
Yes, but how is such a weapon wielded? Consider it. The figure of a child stepped out from behind the chair. Lucinde was still wearing her Sunday best, but there was still no mistaking her red lips and hungry eyes for anything but Yatai’s. Do you think you were meant to return from the abyss of the garden? You are a sacrificial lamb. A life for a life. You may be able to kill me, but surely not without surrendering yourself.
Yatai strolled toward her, slinking with a sway to her hips that was unnatural for such a small child. She circled Elise,
trailing an icy hand over her back.
Your life is your weapon, and it can only be wielded once. The question is… how badly do you want me to die?
Elise thought of Nukha’il, and Itra’il, and the casino sinking into the earth.
“Very badly.”
But not badly enough. You have no resolve, Godslayer—you aren’t prepared to die.
“You should ask Yatam what I’m willing to give to kill you,” Elise said. “Both of you.”
Uncertainty flickered over Lucinde’s innocent features. He is enamored with what you represent.
“I know.”
He doesn’t love you. He only loves his death.
Elise had to laugh at that. “I’m not worried about love. Trust me.”
Yatai faced her, and the darkness in the room grew until Elise couldn’t see beyond the length of her arm. Anthony and James vanished, sinking into fog. Only the girl remained visible—a ghostly figure in the void.
Her hands smoothed over her blue skirt. She looked… nervous.
“Yesterday, I fed your brother my blood and my flesh. And when I drew my knife across his chest, he didn’t heal. Do you know what that means?” Elise asked. The demon didn’t respond. “I can kill you. You just have to abandon the gates and let the city go—you have to let Anthony go.”
The girl’s mouth drew down into a frown. My brother lives. I feel him. I think you’re lying to me.
“I’m not.”
You are prepared to die to bring death upon us both.
Elise opened her mouth to say, “Yes.”
But she hesitated for a heartbeat. Just a heartbeat.
It was enough.
The room reappeared around Elise. Yatai stepped back. Your love of this life is still too great. You will not die for us.
“Wait—”
If you change your mind, come and find me. I will lay my life at your merciful feet, spare your city, and surrender this man to you for the low cost of your blood and soul. Otherwise…
She disappeared, taking the shadows with her.
Anthony arched in the chair. He roared, throwing his head back and kicking out both feet.
The thrashing was so sudden that the chair tipped. It cracked against the floor. He screamed and strained his arms against the wrists, beating his feet against the legs.
Elise dropped by Anthony’s side, but the seizure wracked his entire body, and he didn’t respond to her touch.
James hovered by the door, eyes wide circles.
How much had he seen?
She felt him probe her mind, and Elise shoved the warding ring onto her thumb before he could see anything.
“Get Malcolm or a doctor or—something ,” Elise said, grabbing one of Anthony’s hands. He was ripping his wrists apart trying to get free. James didn’t immediately move, and she shot a glare at him. “Go!”
He flung the door open and ran.
17
A Union doctor with a syringe full of morphine wasn’t enough to sedate Anthony. It took an entire unit of kopides to strap him to a bed and wheel him to the infirmary, where they had more drugs and more staff to hold him down.
Elise paced the empty hallway outside the ward, arms folded tightly across her chest. James hung by the railing overlooking the warehouse. He hadn’t looked at her once since they had left the containment cell. He watched the teams move on the floor below as though his gaze could set them on fire.
Malcolm emerged from the infirmary. “Well?” Elise asked.
“He’s finally unconscious. He bit a witch’s hand, though, and we’re not sure if he’s spreading the ichor yet. Might have to amputate.”
Her back hit the wall, and she slid down to sit on the floor. “Damn it.”
“We’ve got an exorcist on staff who can fix him. Don’t worry about it.”
She didn’t feel like explaining that there was no time for that. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Malcolm glanced at James. “Just so you two know, the helicopter is making its last trip out of here in an hour—we’ll be making our final assault after that, and we can’t promise the safety of anyone who doesn’t evacuate. I hope you’ll both be on it.”
James nodded silently, and the commander left.
Elise hugged her legs to her chest and bowed her head to her knees.
The doors to the ward swung open, and then shut again. A stretcher rolled past, escorted by two nurses. Another followed a few minutes later. The helicopter wasn’t the only transport leaving soon; another convoy was about to depart, and they were taking as many civilians as they could.
“Is it true?” James finally asked, staring out at the activity in the Union warehouse. “That you would have to die to kill something like Yatai?”
Elise let her head fall back against the wall with a soft thud .
“Yeah. Probably.”
He was quiet for a long time, rubbing his left forearm with a knuckle. Beyond him, the team was mobilized for the assault. Vehicles emptied from the garage in a long train. Survivors began boarding long black buses.
“What do you plan to do?” James asked.
“If I can’t kill Yatai, then everyone in the territory dies,” Elise said. “Including Anthony. Including me. If it’s my life against everyone else’s… well, it’s not like there’s a question.”
He came to kneel at her side. “There’s another option.”
She let her head fall to the side so she could see him. James looked thinner and younger than ever before, but the gray at his temples had begun spreading to the back of his head, and the stubble around his jaw was turning silver, too.
His bright eyes locked on hers. “Leave with me. We’ll evacuate on the helicopter. Together.”
“And the city? Anthony?”
“Let the Union take care of it all.”
Elise barked a bitter laugh. “Like they protected everything downtown?”
His hand fell on hers, and he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Better than choosing to die. That’s no choice at all.”
“The Union can’t slay a god.”
“Yatam and Yatai aren’t gods. You can’t listen to them making those claims. They’re demons, nothing more—and it doesn’t require a sacrifice to destroy them.”
She stared at his hand on hers, shoulders tight and stomach churning.
Her blood flowed through Yatam’s system. It had been enough to destroy his regenerative abilities. Maybe he was weak enough to be killed without having to empty her veins completely—though she doubted it.
What would it take to kill Yatai?
Was Elise really willing to die for it?
James rested his chin on her hair. “Most people have been evacuated now, and you’ve already given everything for this city. It’s not worth sacrificing yourself for whatever remains.” His hand stilled, fingers tightening. “Not even for Anthony.”
“But if the Union can’t take care of Yatai—if I trust them to do this, and they fail—we’ll lose him.”
He pulled back, cupping her cheek in a hand. The lines deepened between his furrowed eyebrows. “And if I lose you… that would kill me, Elise.”
She buried her face in his shoulder. James smelled familiar and warm, like home should have. But what was home anymore? Every place where she had ever known that illusion of comfort and security was gone.
Her city was going to go next. She could save it, or fall with it.
Or she could run.
“Fine,” she mumbled into his arm.
“Fine?”
“You’re right. It’s not worth it.” The words had weight as they fell from her lips. Each syllable made her heart sink lower. “I’ll leave with you.”
The helicopter’s landing pad was on a hill overlooking the freeway. From the top, Elise could see everything—the sprawling Union warehouse, the glimmering line of buses evacuating the area, and what remained of Reno. It was cold and dark, and she wasn’t sure if it was day or night anymore.
/> Snow was falling on Reno, but it wasn’t white; it formed a sludgy mess of brown and yellow with splatters of crimson on the ground, and she didn’t want to know where the colors came from.
The Union bustled around them. A steady stream of injured civilians headed into the facility, and a steady stream of trucks exited. Maybe by the end of the night, Reno would be evacuated. Nothing would be left behind but a ghost town, the Warrens, and the rotting remains of an ethereal city.
Even from that distance, she could hear the occasional, distant pop of gunfire as Union men slaughtered demons who had spread into Sparks. The vehicles that returned were splattered with ichor.
Her hometown was a stranger to her.
And she was abandoning it.
James was a warm, looming presence at her side. He held her hand, even though her fingers remained slack, and she would have preferred not to be touched at all. She watched the city, and he watched her.
The whirring of a helicopter approached. Half-melted puddles rippled. A wind kicked up around Elise, and she stepped backwards into a slushy mess of mud and snow. It soaked through her shoe and made her toes cold.
The helicopter landed, and the door slid open.
“Get in,” shouted Malcolm.
James moved forward. Elise didn’t have a choice but to follow; he hadn’t let go of her hand. He climbed inside, and she took the seat by the door.
A few other kopides got in with them. Elise didn’t recognize any of them. She focused on her knees.
Malcolm stepped onto the skid.
“This is goodbye,” he said, his grin weaker than it had ever been before. “You two kids take care of each other, all right?”
Elise rolled her eyes, but James said, “Thank you.” It almost sounded like he meant it.
Malcolm started to step down, but paused. “Hey, did one of you drop this?”
He handed a piece of paper to Elise. It was the wedding photo of Betty, eternally smiling, forever happy. It must have fallen out of her pocket.
Anthony looked more like the Mexican side of his family than Betty’s, but they had the same smile. Maybe it was the innocent eyes. Maybe it was the abandon with which she smiled, the “you only live once” attitude, the easy way she let herself be happy.