Dark Goddess

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Dark Goddess Page 26

by Amalie Howard


  The Demon Lords stood in a circle surrounding the structure. Kyle’s gaze honed in on his father. Clothed in his true form, Ra’al seemed agitated. So did Temlucus, who stood beside him.

  “Where is he?” Dekaias whined. Kyle’s attention darted to his brother—Demon Lord of the first—and he drew a swift breath at seeing a familiar face so close to his own. No matter how much he expected the resemblance, it was always a shock. “He will ruin everything.”

  Kyle blinked at his words and counted the Demon Lords. They weren’t all present. He felt a sense of satisfaction as he realized who was absent. Nequ’el. His strategy had worked.

  “I will gut him from snout to heel,” Belphegar shouted. His slovenly, beastlike form, that of a man and woman wrapped in a lascivious embrace, made Kyle flinch. Sera’s sickened expression matched his. “Someone needs to teach that dog a lesson.”

  “Will that be you, Belphegar?” The lazy response was from Nequ’el himself, who hustled toward the others from a nearby passageway.

  “Where have you been?” Ra’al growled.

  Nequ’el shot him a measured look. “Making sure your progeny was well cared for.”

  “You are late.”

  His head cocked. “So it would seem.”

  The tension between the two Demon Lords vibrated through the space, but Temlucus lifted a hand. “What is it, Lord Nequ’el? Air your grievance.”

  “I wish to be the first through the portal once the wards have been destroyed.”

  Kyle could feel Temlucus’s rage even from where he crouched, but the Demon Lord’s resonant voice did not reflect it. “The order has already been cast.”

  “And I am last,” Nequ’el seethed.

  “What is this about?”

  Nequ’el squared his shoulders. “I am the one who has caged the son of Ra’al in my dimension, the one who holds the key to our plot. And yet, my place—my importance—is not recognized.” His scathing glare flew to Dekaias. “I am the Lord of War, and though we are on the eve of battle, that piss-worthy insect strides into the fight before me.”

  “You fool,” Ra’al bellowed, lurching toward Nequ’el. “You do this now?” Nequ’el growled, two razor-sharp discs appearing in his hands as Ra’al lowered his horns and prepared to charge.

  “Enough!” Temlucus roared, making the walls of the grotto shake. Silence descended. “The order has been decided.”

  “Then see how you fare without me.”

  Sera stiffened beside him as Temlucus grabbed Nequ’el by the scruff of his neck, a patchwork of embers extending out from beneath his hand. The Demon Lord struggled in his grip, but he was no match for Temlucus’s superior strength.

  “You have already given your pledge,” Temlucus thundered. “You will fulfill your oath, dead or alive.”

  The net of embers extended in a glowing web over Nequ’el’s skin, and it wasn’t long before a pained, submissive whine escaped his lips. Ra’al’s face lit up with glee as Temlucus drained the weaker Demon Lord to within an inch of his life. Temlucus wasted no time, flinging Nequ’el’s moaning form like a dead weight toward the base of the altar, and the rest of the Demon Lords took up their respective places.

  Kyle exchanged a fraught look with Sera.

  “What do we do?” she asked.

  “I have to destroy the portal before that thing gets out,” he whispered. “It’s the only way.”

  Sera nodded grimly and they leaped from the ledge together toward the altar, drawing the stares of thousands of demons.

  “Finally, Lord Kalias.” Temlucus turned his eyes to Kyle and flashed a rictus grin. “And Lady Serjana. Always interesting to see you.”

  Stunned, Kyle faltered for a moment at the welcome. Had Temlucus known he would come? But his thoughts scattered as a burning sensation took over his chest, the central rune there searing his skin. Without warning, the portal flared into existence, shining a hot red. It had been dormant before, but now it was awake. Kyle felt himself sway.

  He was the eighth rune. The key to the gateway.

  “Predictable to a fault,” Ra’al hissed, his face triumphant.

  The roar was deafening as thousands of demons swarmed them. Sera’s fiery weapons were a blur, but she cleaved a path toward the black stones of the altar, her hellfyre flaring in vicious bursts and incinerating demons left and right. Kyle followed her path, Mordas appearing in his hand. They had one goal: destroy that doorway.

  Ra’al blocked Kyle’s way. “You can never escape your legacy.”

  “Watch me,” he shot back.

  His father laughed. “Ever the optimist. But once more, my useless son, you are too late.”

  Kyle’s gaze shot to Sera, who had reached the stones and the vapor. The four manushya-rakshasis from the tower appeared, now joined together in the form of a creature with four heads and a tangle of arms and legs, like a grotesque but beautiful arachnid. A warning rang low in Kyle’s gut.

  Those eight arms reached for Sera at the same instant the shout left his lips. His chest felt as if it were on fire as the altar ignited, shielding Sera from view and swallowing her whole. Kyle veered backward, out of his father’s reach, while the glare intensified. He gritted his teeth and gathered his strength.

  He wasn’t useless.

  He was the defender of the wards between the realms.

  Kyle stared his father in the face, then head-butted Ra’al with all the force he could muster. “And once more, you underestimate me.”

  With a frenzied roar, he leapt over the enraged Demon Lord, launching himself into the shimmering doorway, and sealed it shut behind him.

  TO THE DEATH

  The gym was a shambles, bits of exploded wood and concrete everywhere, as if a bomb had been detonated at its center. Bits of graying crystal littered the floor, the stench of sulfur hung thick in the air. No one seemed to have been hurt by the blast; from what Sera could tell, the gym was mostly empty, though she could detect movement at its edges.

  Dazed, Sera rolled to her feet, her twin blades kindling. She blinked, her gaze recognizing a few Yoddha emerging from the periphery—it was as if she’d never left. Then again, time flowed differently in the Dark Realms than it did in the Mortal Realm. Hours there were mere minutes here.

  She looked around wildly for the four women from the portal. They were nowhere to be seen. Sera shuddered at the phantom remnant of their touch—the demon avatar was powerful, imbued with the strengths of all the Demon Lords.

  Her stare fell to Kyle, who lay in a motionless heap a few feet away. She hurried toward him, skidding as she reached his side. His eyes were closed and a nasty bruise was flowering on his forehead, but his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

  “Kyle?” His eyelids fluttered open. “What happened back there? Did you do that to the portal?”

  “Yes.” He blinked, trying to sit up but crashing backward with a groan. “Did you see Aranyasura? Where is she?”

  “She disappeared when the portal fissured.” Sera eyed him, frowning as he fingered his brow. “What happened to you?”

  “Decided to take my father on . . . with my face. Help me up,” he said and reached out a hand. Grabbing his wrist, Sera pulled her friend up against her, bracing as he fought to keep his balance. “Did Aranyasura say anything to you?”

  Sera shook her head. “She didn’t have to. When she touched me, it was like I could feel all her thoughts, see all she planned to do. She is driven by one thing—her hunger—and she means to satisfy it. Once she is strong enough . . .” Sera trailed off, dread filling her as she realized exactly where the demon would go. “Is Nate safe?”

  “Yes,” Dev announced, appearing beside them. “He’s in Illysia, with Sophia and Micah.”

  Even covered in blood and gore, Dev was a sight for sore eyes. With a wild half-sob, Sera flung herself into his arms. Struggling to keep it together as she absorbed some of his strength, she drew several gulps of air into her lungs and composed herself.

  When Darika join
ed them a moment later, Kyle cleared his throat, and she turned back. The expression on his face made Sera’s blood run cold.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Aranyasura’s blood is still linked to mine,” Kyle said quietly. “Which means that once she’s strong enough, she can create a portal to Illysia.”

  “That is not possible,” Darika interjected. “No demon can breach Illysia.”

  “She’s not exactly a demon,” Kyle explained. “She’s a constructed Azura being. We don’t exactly know what she’s capable of.” He stared at Darika. “They made her in your image.”

  “My image?” she choked out.

  “Just as you were once created as the ultimate weapon of the gods,” he said, “they created her as their weapon to fight us.”

  “She’s strong,” Sera added, remembering the colossal energy she’d felt. “And the more she consumes, the stronger and more corporeal she’ll become. Who knows how powerful she’ll become.”

  “Let’s not wait to find out,” Darika said, her face darkening. “She’ll head toward the town, and the shortest path is through—”

  “—the woods,” Kyle finished. He nodded to Dev. “Call the Yoddha and the Sanrak. We’re going to need all the help we can get, including the Ne’feri.”

  “I’m going with you,” Dev said.

  “No,” Darika said. “Your place is in Illysia.”

  Dev’s glance slid to Sera. “My place is at her side.”

  “My lord Deven—” Darika began, but her words were cut off by the obstinate look on Dev’s face.

  For once, Sera agreed with the other goddess. If anything happened to Dev, the Trimurtas—and Illysia—would be at risk. But she recognized that pigheaded look when she saw it. She said nothing as his giant sword materialized in his palms. His brown eyes met hers in a ferocious, possessive stare that made her knees feel like jelly.

  “You know the rules,” Sera said.

  He smiled. “Don’t die.”

  Together, they ran from the gym toward the woodlands surrounding the school. Once outside, Dev summoned the remaining Yoddha and Daevas who had gotten most of the surviving students to safety. Her father was waiting with the students for the paramedics, and for that Sera was grateful. Fifty-odd Ne’feri warriors joined them, their faces grim. Sera noticed that Beth and her family were among them, and she met her friend’s eyes with a nod. Whatever Beth’s stance on Kyle had been, they needed all the help they could get.

  A blinding light appeared as Micah and a dozen other Sanraks materialized at the edge of the woods.

  “Where’s my mom?” Sera asked him.

  “With the other Trimurtas.”

  “And Nate?”

  A smile curled Micah’s lips. “Upset he’s missing out, but also safe.”

  “He needs to be under lock and key,” Sera said in a panicky whisper. “You don’t know him like I do. He’ll find a way to run away and do something stupid.”

  Micah squeezed her shoulder. “He’s protected, trust me. He’s with Lord Taran.”

  She chewed her lip doubtfully. But she couldn’t have asked for better protection for Nate. Taran was as powerful as Dev.

  “This way,” Kyle said, taking off at a run with Dev close on his heels. Some of the others followed them, but Sera let her deifyre flare and flew instead, floating high above the tree line. She was joined by Darika and two of her warrior Sanraks. Sera swallowed hard, wondering whether her own guardians, Mara and Ilani, would be replaced—and what the fate of those Yoddha would be. It seemed that everyone who came close to her ended up dying.

  Shaking off the sudden feeling of dread, Sera pushed on, keeping connected to Dev as he kept pace with her below.

  I’m worried about Nate, she thought to him.

  Nate is in good hands.

  You know my brother, Dev, she said, and if he wants to do something, he’s going to do it. I’m worried that he’ll put himself in danger. Kyle is the host that Aranyasura needs to survive. If anything happens to him, I won’t be able to forgive myself. She expelled a harsh breath. I don’t trust anyone else, Dev. Please, you’re the only one he’ll listen to.

  Lord Taran is with him.

  She didn’t hesitate. It’s Nate we’re talking about.

  Dev didn’t respond for a minute, but the answer came back as she knew it would. I’ll make sure he’s safe.

  He soared up to meet her mid-flight and caught her in an unbreakable grip. They hovered in midair, his silvery-white deifyre flaring around her until their mingled auras shifted into a pale, blushing pink. Sera almost melted from the look in those golden-brown eyes, and she nearly forgot how to think as he leaned in to kiss her fiercely.

  “If I do this, promise me you won’t do anything reckless,” he muttered against her lips.

  She widened her eyes innocently. “I’m never reckless.”

  “Of course you aren’t.”

  With an unconvinced smile, he shook his head.

  Looping her arms around his neck, Sera slid her fingers through the dark waves hanging over his shoulders. The blue tattoos on his throat shimmered in the light and she stroked his skin, watching a cerulean ribbon undulate beneath her touch as if it were alive. Aranyasura was strong, but she was one Azura, while they numbered in the dozens. With any luck, this would all be over quickly.

  “I’ll be careful, I promise,” she said. “Just look after Nate.”

  After a long moment, he nodded and kissed her hard. Sera was flooded with relief as she felt Dev’s energy dissolve from the mortal plane. There had been a moment when she thought that he’d see straight through her ploy. As powerful as Aranyasura was, they could handle her without him. But his safety, and Nate’s, were vital.

  She caught up to Darika and the others, feeling the goddess’s eyes settle on her with something akin to admiration. “Well done,” she said.

  “Men,” Sera said with a shrug. “They think the world will end without them.”

  “Thank you for getting him back to Illysia.”

  “Thank me later,” Sera said, meeting Darika’s gaze as they crested a heavily forested hill. Though they were both shaded from the view of any mortals below, Sera still felt vulnerable in the air. “When we get rid of this Azura abomination.”

  “Kyle blames himself for her existence.”

  “It’s not his fault.”

  Darika was quick to reassure her. “I’m on your side. His side. Trust me, I know it wasn’t his fault.” She huffed a breath. “He feels responsible though.”

  “Do you like him?” Sera asked suddenly, studying the placid goddess.

  To her surprise, Darika flushed. “Yes.”

  “He likes you, too.”

  Several moments passed before Darika spoke again. “My sister spoke well of him when she was here.”

  “Why did she go away?”

  “She didn’t. Not completely, anyway,” Darika said, somewhat cryptically. “Kira appears when she wants. And right now, she prefers to not be here. We have always had a . . . tumultuous relationship.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think she has a good heart.”

  “She does.”

  They shared a smile before an explosion beneath them sent a plume of fire up into the sky and shook the earth so hard that cracks appeared on the ground between the trees. They were nearly to the town, Sera realized in horror. The goddesses dove down to join the fray, with the other Sanraks hot on their heels, but neither of them was prepared for what awaited them on the edge of the decimated forest.

  Sera’s hand flew to her mouth at the sea of human bodies littering the fringe of the small town. Mostly visitors to the Kensico Dam Plaza County Park, they were nothing but empty husks, drained of their life essence. Her eyes widened as she saw Kyle hurtling through the air to crash into the side of the stone dam. Three more Yoddha followed him.

  Sera’s breath stalled in her throat as she beheld the creature that was Aranyasura standing on a smoking pyre of dead humans and deitie
s alike. Her assorted faces kept shifting as she fought, from pensive to amused to vicious.

  As Sera had seen in the portal, Aranyasura was a monstrous, spectacularly beautiful, four-faced creature. But now, she was several times the size of any normal human. Her translucent skin was the color of glowing embers, marked by deep yellow, runic script. Four enormous, red wings sprouted from her back. They, too, were etched with rippling, vine-like inscriptions.

  In her true form, she was terrifying. And in battle, she was mesmerizing.

  Six of her eight arms moved with blinding speed, wielding wickedly forged weapons. Two awaited the return of curved discs just thrown to slay incoming Yoddha. Sera guessed that, like Durga’s, all of the weapons were gifts from Aranyasura’s makers—a sword that looked suspiciously like Mordas, a burning staff, a pike, the pair of three-pronged discs. Aranyasura was strong and fast, and if the growing pile of bodies at her feet was any signal, she was skilled.

  Sera gritted her teeth and dove down to where Darika was helping a bloody Kyle to his feet. His arm hung limply at his side and he was covered in fluid and gore, some of it black and some red.

  “She’s too quick,” he panted. “The more she kills, the stronger she gets. And the more powerful the deity, the more invincible she becomes. You have to hold back the Sanraks.” His expression was bleak. “And you, especially, need to stay out of reach. You and Darika.” He looked around. “Where’s Dev? He can’t be here either.”

  “He’s with Nate,” Sera replied, distracted. “Wait, how is this even possible? She can’t absorb immortals’ power.”

  Kyle shook his head. “I’m guessing that because she is the embodiment of Xibalba and all the Demon Lords, she’s a living extension of the Dark Realms. Any immortal that touches her will be consumed by her . . . by it.”

  “Good guess,” Sera said scowling. “Could you be wrong?”

  Kyle’s smirk was forced. “Put it this way—if I’m right, we’re screwed.”

  “Use your abilities,” Darika suggested. “What do you see? She has to have a weakness somewhere.”

 

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