by Lexi Ostrow
“Layel. Layel, if you don’t bloody get down here, the next time I see you, I will kill you. I don’t care who you are to Odette. Do not leave us stranded here!” the Frenchman’s voice rose with each word.
“There is no need for threats, Philippe,” Layel’s voice boomed through the space. “We have enough time to enter Hell and not face off with whatever untold number of Sirens are, no doubt, almost upon us.
Jacob saw the Angel in all his glory standing in front of the left most door. Even with the goggles, the snow-white wings sparkled, and the demon’s muscles glistened. He had no compulsion to do as the Angel wanted, and for that, Jacob was grateful. Two compulsions were more than he could even dream to fight off.
That’s what he was going to do. Fight off the Siren’s song.
“Come quickly to this door, and I will give you a map as the last of you races through. I cannot enter Hell—”
Jacob didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. The song was no longer quiet, and he could feel his feet beginning to shift towards the water line. With every breath, he tried to steel his boot into the sandy shore, and yet, he still took step after step—and he had already been the closet.
“Philippe, Jacob, get near the wall. Get furthest from the water.”
He thought it was McKenna that shouted, but it couldn’t have been. McKenna’s light-haired head poked just above the surface. He hadn’t even realized she’d ran past him and jumped in. The music. Where could the music be coming from? A stunningly beautiful humming filled his ears, and McKenna lifted a hand and crooked her finger at him. So his hunter wanted to play, he would do anything for her.
Panic raced through McKenna. They had anticipated one Siren. The one that she had saved Jacob from. McKenna could see no less than eight female faces staring back at them from the water, mouths open in song. The sound was overbearing, and any hope she’d had of Jacob finding the strength to ignore it was rapidly disappearing. Jacob was less than two steps from the water line, and the song was so loud, she couldn’t think around it.
Every instinct screamed at her to jump in front of him, but her training held her back. A Siren was deadly when their prey was taken from them. If McKenna didn’t kill the Siren closest, the demon could kill Jacob in an instant with her tentacles.
No one moved, not hunter or Siren. The Sirens were safe if they stayed a distance back, but McKenna and the others were not. The tentacles were fast and long. If the creatures got too close and made it to land, it would be just as deadly. Fighting the one in the ocean had seemed terrifying. Now it seemed by far easier than a slow row, picking each other off one by one if she and Felicia couldn’t stop the men from walking to their death.
“What the bloody hell are you waiting for?” Layel shouted.
McKenna shook off the haze and stared at the eight Sirens. Three brunettes. Three easier targets. “Kill the ones going for Philippe. He’s stronger in battle anyway. Trust me, this will work,” she shouted at Felicia even as she fired an older version, purple crystal gun at the closest dark haired Siren.
Beams of light shot from all around her, the sizzling sound completely inaudible, lost in the deadly Siren song. A scream pierced the air, just louder than the singing, and McKenna watched as a Siren sunk beneath the water, a hole in her head. Her fingers squeezed the trigger over and over, but the Siren she sought was rising from the water, tentacles moving in frantic circles.
Layel’s massive wings were in front of her, blocking her view of anything. She forced her away around him and saw the Siren lying on the ground, her neck broken. He nodded at her and flapped his wings to fly above the water, above the Sirens. She could see the tension in his body. Layel was fighting off the Sirens’ song as hard as any.
“Ladies, I’m about eight seconds away from turning my gun on you, and Jacob is a quarter-step from touching water. These bitches won’t come out if they don’t have to, but something tells me they will soon,” Lucius shouted from just behind McKenna.
For the first time, she let her eyes train on Jacob’s back. He shook with his effort to keep himself on the ground. If she could just get to him, she thought she could knock him backwards and still kill the closest Siren.
Three beams flashed in her peripheral vision, and two more screams echoed in the cavern. The song was growing quieter by the kill. McKenna’s pulse was beating so rapidly, she worried she might faint when this was all done. But it wasn’t done.
“Mon Dieu! Baise!”
McKenna heard Philippe curse from her left side. A smirk spread across her lips. The Sirens weren’t emerging to attack, it was song versus weapon, and McKenna had a feeling they would win. She could feel the tension, the struggle in the cave, and yet, if their beams could reach a little farther, they could destroy the remaining Sirens from there. It would be the strangest battle she had ever been in, but it was going to be all right. The Sirens were not going to win.
So she thought until Lucius passed her on her right.
His gun was no longer in his hand, and his soulless eyes were locked on a Siren. McKenna reached into her boot, and without any hope it would make it, threw the dagger towards the nearest Siren, a blonde. It flew true and struck deep in the creature’s chest. Gorgeous honey-brown eyes flashed black, and teeth snapped before death took the Siren. McKenna wished she could see how many more held eyes the color of Eliza’s, and how many had her clear blue eyes.
“Three. Fuck you. Three of you left, and you don’t have the nerve to step on land. You’re not demons. You’re scavengers. You don’t take your prey. You fucking trap it, taunt it and kill it,” Felicia’s voice rang out in the cave.
McKenna’s eyes went wide at her partner’s rant. Provoking them to come on land would spell disaster. Her heart thumped in her throat as two Sirens moved closer. Layel plucked them from the water and tossed them arse over tits into the wall.
Lucius shouted, “Bloody hell, now I owe my blasted life to a Pure Angel.”
There was only one Siren left, and Jacob was still mesmerized by the gentle song that worked through the cavern. Despite the death of her own kind, the Siren had kept singing. McKenna took two steps to the right, and her heart felt as if she’d swallowed it.
The Siren was the same from the ship. Right down to the injuries from their physical row. She’d come for Jacob, and she was hovering so far out in the center, only Layel could get her. McKenna’s hands shook, and she aimed the gun. Six shots fired, all six beams never reaching the target. Layel needed to do it. What was he waiting for?
“McKenna, grab him!”
Lucius’s shout took her so off guard that she jumped. Her eyes flashed to Jacob, and she screamed as he was slammed into the ground and dragged into the water by a tentacle. Anger replaced panic, determination rapidly punched through her fear. Jacob couldn’t die. She wouldn’t let him, and it had entirely nothing to do with the rash mission assignment. She would not have gone through such turmoil to save him, only to lose him to the same demon in the end.
“No!” She took off, gun in her hand, and she remembered she had no other weapon the second she hit the water.
It didn’t matter. McKenna would kill the Siren with her hands for touching Jacob. He didn’t have much longer, and the demons could move like steam trains through the water. But not this one, she’d cut off one tentacle and injured another. They couldn’t be more than one hundred paces in front of her, but McKenna’s body felt as if he hadn’t recovered from her last deadly swim. She could feel herself slowing down, no matter how quickly she moved her limbs.
Jacob was being trailed behind the Siren. His mouth was closed, thank the heavens, but his goggles were down around his neck. She couldn’t tell if he lived or not, just that they were both almost out of time. She swam as hard as she could, ignoring the bleeding bodies of the dead Sirens around her. There was no plan, nothing she could do if she ran out of air before she got to Jacob.
Philippe was in front of her, out of absolutely nowhere. She hadn’t heard him, hadn�
��t felt the water change as he’d obviously sped up to her. But as she raced after the Siren, she could see the glint of silver from his dagger. Every muscle in her body screamed as she tried to catch up to the Siren and Jacob, to Philippe even.
She watched as he stabbed the dagger into the woman’s back, and again as it clumsily missed a swipe at her tentacles. He brought it down in a slow, water-encumbered arc and sliced off the tentacle that held Jacob. McKenna had caught up, and she kicked as hard as she could, wrapping her hand around Jacob’s. His eyes flew open, he was alive, and if he wanted to stay that way, he needed to learn to swim.
McKenna’s body was tiring quickly, and she felt a horrid sense of guilt as she tried to tug Jacob’s nearly dead weight through the water. Hands were on her, and she punched, slamming her fist into Philippe’s neck. He glared and released too many bubbles, took in too much air. Seeing his arm on Jacob too, she let go and forced herself to get back on her own. Philippe and Jacob needed to make it, and she could do it. She would do it.
Her lungs began to burn with every stroke and kick. Fear gripped her tightly as her vision began to blur, despite the goggles. She was running out of air, and even though she could see the water’s surface, she didn’t think she could swim upward quickly enough to make it. I didn’t tell him I love him.
The thought slammed into her the same second her head broke the surface. She half-cried and half-inhaled, choked in a mouthful of bloody saltwater. A hand grabbed her wrist, and this time, she didn’t lash out. She was too tired, and she knew it had to be Layel. Her head swam with pain as she kept sucking in lungful after lungful of air. Carefully, Layel set her down on the shore, and she choked and sputtered until she could breathe again.
“Jacob,” was the first word she forced out when Felicia sat next to her.
“He’s over there.” Felicia pointed down the shoreline about fifty paces.
McKenna gave into the weariness and let her body crash into the sand. Hell was going to have to wait a moment.
Eighteen
Seraphina felt as if she was about to combust. Her body was teaming with an equal amount of unspent sexual energy and anger. No one had returned to report. Not the Imp spying on the Sirens, not Ian and not Izazal. Her body shook with rage, and all she could do was pace—or go topside and take care of things on her own.
A foolish Illusion Demon had once accused her of being unwilling to get her hands bloody. She had changed the creature’s mind by slowly removing his insides, ending with his heart, so he’d been very much alive, even when the pain caused him to black out. She couldn’t help but wonder if the demon had been partially correct.
There was so much blood on her hands, Seraphina could drown in it, but it was all demon blood. Despite her hatred for humans, she had never killed one. Until Kellan, she had never tortured one herself either. She’d stood as a protector for humanity for over six hundred years, and maybe it was stopping her plans from being successful. Maybe it was time for her to take a human life. Time to prove to her followers she did not cower in Hell, but that she commanded it, and commanders did not enter until the final battle.
She wiggled her fingers, paced and continually took deep, exasperated breaths. Nothing was calming her down. You need to go to Kellan. Just go find Muriel, it doesn’t have to be Izazal, she thought whilst pacing.
With the hunters coming to rescue Kellan, if they fucking succeeded, he needed to be sane enough to pretend she hadn’t fucked with him. Which meant she needed to use an Angel who shared at least a little of her blood to feed him. There was no way of knowing if it would work for Kellan, but it was the only chance she had. If she was honest with herself, if he remained in Hell much longer, she was going to kill him for what the blood connection was making her want. Him.
A shiver broke out over her arms, and she grinned. The Fallen were back. The blood tie to Izazal would always alert her to his presence, even if it had been almost two years since they’d drank from each other. A bond was forever, until death.
She grabbed the glass vial off her vanity and gripped it tightly in her hands. Quickly, she threw open the office door and flashed to Izazal’s command room. He would likely return there first to remove his weapons, and either praise or punish his team. He had not let her down. Izazal stood tall in the middle of the room with five Fallen standing around him. All had black feathers, all had become Fallen from their own vices. They were less loyal but more reliable. Her eyes trailed to the floor, and at her second in command’s feet lay not one, but two hunters. Their blasted goggles were still over their eyes, but there was no sign of their weapons. She had wanted their munitions.
“Move,” she commanded from the doorway, and the five Fallen split like the Dead Sea was rumored to have as she sauntered past them.
Every Fallen’s lust radiated as she walked by, and her body cried to be touched. When this was done, she would seek one out, take him to her bed and let him please her till she was weak from pleasure. Now was not the time, though.
Izazal bowed his head as she stopped before him. “My Queen, we have succeeded. Two hunters, dead, as you asked for.”
“That was…impressive. I am grateful to know some in my ranks can be trusted with a simple task. Did any others see you and live to report back?”
Izazal gave a sharp shake of his head. “No. There is none to point fingers, though the Alliance will notice their missing members, the sun has already risen.”
Seraphina’s grin only grew wider. “Good. Let them panic. Let them feel this loss as strongly as when I had their leader taken from them. You are all dismissed. Do not tarry in the halls. There is wine and meat in the serving areas. Take your well-earned victory and be ready should you be called on again.”
Various mumbles of obedience and platitudes came from the Fallen as they shuffled out. Seraphina walked to the door and shut it. Her plans for Kellan had always been quiet; this one would need to be more so. When she slipped the lock in place, she turned and saw Izazal stripping the blood-soaked pants from his body.
Her core began to pulse with need. A small whimper slipped past her lips, and she cleared her thoughts in an attempt to cover her desperate sound. It failed. Izazal smirked and strolled up to her, chest bare and bloody from battle, pants on the floor and prick jutting proudly. When he stopped, she itched to reach out and wrap her hand around him, to play with him as they once had.
“Seraphina, you did not need to form pretense, My Queen. My body will forever be yours, all you need to do is command it.”
Lust shot through her so hard, she clamped her legs together and sucked a deep breath in through her nose. She regretted giving Izazal to Muriel, he would have been able to sever the blood attraction to Kellan. Seraphina rolled her lower lip betwixt her teeth and lifted the hand holding the glass vial.
She unveiled the little storage container, and Izazal raised a brow.
“What are you showing me, My Queen?”
His hand trailed over her arm, and she shivered. Her desire for Kellan was going to be the end of her reign if she didn’t find a way to get it under control. Twisting her wrist so the vial was pointing at the ceiling she passed it over to Izazal.
“I need your blood.”
“Then you will have it, you do not need a vial to keep it. I am yours whenever you need,” Izazal’s voice was husky with promise.
“I need your blood for Kellan.”
Izazal’s face twisted as he growled, but he did not deny her. Izazal thrust his wrist at her and nodded sharply.
“Am I to know why I will be gifting a human, a hunter, with my blood?”
She pulled the cork from the top of the vial and dragged her nail over his wrist. Bright red blood appeared like a scarlet brand across his wrist, and he tipped it to let it drip into the finger-sized vial. She watched the first few drops to be sure the liquid made it inside, and then looked at her greatest ally.
“His people are coming for him, and he is too addicted to my blood. I took things too far tr
ying to break his spirit, and he if I send him back, the hunters will kill him. I will not have spent this year in vain. I will get inside the Alliance of Silver and Steam, and we will begin our attack on the humans shortly. I have allowed this battle to run beneath the surface for too long, and Kellan is our ticket to victory.”
Recognition flashed in Izazal’s eyes. “So you think diluting the connection to you will make him appear saner?” his voice held doubt.
“It will work, Izazal. Do not forget how loyal you were before I got to you. Question me again, and I will find the smallest reason to dispatch you from my services. Do not overstep your place because you had a victory this last time.”
She watched as his face twisted from shock to anger and back to a mask of pacification. She could hear his deep breaths as his blood dripped into the vial. Their eyes held each other’s gaze and only broke when she felt a splash of blood on her knuckle. Her eyes tore from him to how filled the vial was, and she watched as another drop dripped in. It splashed over the side and onto her pale pink dress.
Izazal twisted his wrist to his mouth and licked a line over the blood. It wouldn’t help seal it, but many Angels did it to stop others from getting their blood. His eyes were dark, cold even. Any faith he had in her was shaking, and his trust in her methods was failing, all because she had threatened his place. She had been too kind with him, and that stopped now.
Hardening her own expression, she pushed the cork back into the glass and felt more blood spill around her. Her eyes narrowed, and she closed her hand around the vial. “You will report to my office, and you will wait there. Your insolence has no place in my Hell, and you will be punished.”