by ML Guida
“It better get used to disappointment.” Michael stopped, sheathed his sword, and gestured at Ringmaster. “Will you grab that damn thing and bring it over to me? I tire of this stupid hide and seek game.”
“Temper, temper.” Balthazar laughed. “You don’t want to raise your blood pressure.”
“Now, Ringmaster.” Michael gave Balthazar a deep scowl that would have frozen hell.
Ringmaster shook his head. “Fine, your majesty.”
“What was that, demon?” Michael asked, his words promising pain.
“Ringmaster.” Poison glanced between Michael and Ringmaster warily.
Abigail bit her lip. With all these powerful beings surrounding her, she was an ant about ready to get squashed. Where was Raphael? Why wasn’t he joining the party?
Ringmaster sat and closed his eyes. As he hummed, the board stopped moving. Michael leaped toward it, but the board darted out of his reach again. Abigail was surprised when he swore under his breath. She had no idea that archangels could swear.
“Michael.” Ringmaster opened one eye. “If you keep chasing the board, you’ll be at it all day.”
Michael waved his hand impatiently. “Get on with it, demon. You’re wasting my time.”
Abigail swallowed. Wasting the Angel of Death’s time seemed to be a first class ticket to stupid land. Brayden moaned beneath her.
She ran her fingers through his hair. “Brayden, are you all right?”
“I’m so hungry,” he muttered.
Balthazar flashed his gaze over her. “He wants to sink his teeth into your silky flesh, Red.”
Abigail gritted her teeth and stiffened. His gaze stripped her naked, and her skin writhed. “Don’t call me that. My name is—”
Blade whispered into her ear. “Abigail, do not mince words with him. He’s baiting you, wanting you to say something so he can twist your words and win your soul.”
“The traitor so soon, Blade,” Balthazar glared. “You know how I feel about traitors. Someday you’ll be mine, and you’ll pay for your disobedience.”
Blade hissed. She glanced over her shoulder. His face was carved of marble, and she couldn’t decipher whether the hiss had been out of anger or fear or maybe a little of both. If Balthazar had threatened her, she’d be begging for mercy or at least begging Raphael to help her, since Raphael had said he had bestowed her with his healing power. He’d answer one of his own, wouldn’t he?
Ringmaster started humming again. Everyone quieted. The board stopped rattling and inched toward him. Michael stared at it but didn’t make any sudden moves. Brayden moaned again. Balthazar gave her a Cheshire cat smile, and she swallowed hard. Michael turned his gaze from the board. Abigail’s heart quickened. She tried to breath. For some reason, he terrified her more than Balthazar. She rubbed Brayden’s back hoping to calm her brother, but how do you heal someone infected with a hellish zombie virus?
As Ringmaster’s humming slowed, Abigail found her rapid breath calming. It was more of a lullaby, and she had difficulty keeping her eyes open. Brayden stopped moaning. His breathing became shallow as if he fell into a deep sleep. What was happening?
She leaned back against Blade and inhaled his leather scent. Sighing, she swayed to his heart beat.
Ringmaster uttered soft words, but she could not make them out. He had a baritone voice. The rumbling words were like a steady drum beat. Her thumping heart matched the rhythm of his voice. When he stopped singing, Abigail frowned. She wanted to listen to the soft song.
“I have it,” Ringmaster said.
The spell broke.
Abigail opened her eyes. Ringmaster clasped the board with both hands. A soft purring emitted from the board. “Is that a cat?”
Ringmaster shrugged. “No.” He titled his head. “Well, maybe. I incorporated the souls of many predators. A cat, or more like a lion, was only one of them.”
“So, can I have it now?” Michael stretched out his hand.
His soft voice failed to hide the power beneath those words. His asking was a command, not something to be debated.
“Pushy, aren’t you,” Ringmaster mumbled.
Poison swiped the back of Ringmaster’s head. “Stop it. You’re not helping the situation.”
Abigail detected fear in those words. She wasn’t the only one that Michael scared the panties off.
Ringmaster glanced at Poison. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Uh, right,” she said. “Signing your death warrant.”
“Have a little faith in me, baby.” He smiled at her.
Ringmaster had been a demon and yet, Poison, an angel, loved him. Her fear for him and the look of love she gave him spoke of her feelings for him. How could an angel come to love a demon? Did she know the deeds that Ringmaster had committed?
She bit her lip. But hers was different. Blade had murdered her sister. Maybe he didn’t pull the trigger, but he gave Jessy the means and desire to kill someone else and then turn on herself. How could she forgive him?
She pulled away from Blade, and he sighed. Her back went cold where his body had given her warmth, but she refused to give into her desire. She would not betray Jessy.
As Ringmaster approached Michael, who still leaned against the wall like he had not a care in the world, the board screamed. Abigail jumped. A shriek of a cat being tortured wailed from the board.
Brayden shook his head. “No, leave it alone.” He shoved Abigail. “Get away from me, bitch.”
“Brayden.” She reached for him, but Brayden staggered to his feet.
She gasped. His eyes glowed gold. Her heart stuck in her throat as he dared to glare at Michael. “Brayden, please.”
Blade moved behind her. “Stay here. I won’t let anything happen to your brother.”
It happened so fast Abigail couldn’t register. Brayden lunged for Michael. He actually lunged for the Archangel, the Archangel of Death. Brayden’s fingernails lengthened into shiny points, and his hands curled up. Teeth elongated into jagged points. Spit drizzled down his chin. He was a rabid demon.
Blade flashed past her. He grabbed Brayden’s arm twisting it behind him. Brayden flailed, his feet kicking Blade’s shins. He hissed and swore.
Michael’s brow folded sharply. “The board seems to be growing desperate, Ringmaster.”
Sweat poured down Ringmaster’s face. His hands shook as he gripped the board. “It’s growing hot in my hands, fighting for its life.”
“Like it should.” Michael unsheathed his sword.
The board glowed red.
Michael touched the board with his sword. A bright light sparked and the screaming board vanished. Ringmaster collapsed onto the floor.
Poison rushed to his side and put her arms around his quaking shoulders. “Ringmaster.”
Brayden wailed, the same shrieking shrill as the board had made. Abigail winced. She wanted to comfort him, but Blade struggled to hold him in place. Brayden was half the size of Blade. He snarled and arched his back. Where had he gotten such strength?
Ringmaster was right. Her brother was insane.
“Where did you send it?” Balthazar asked.
“Somewhere you’ll never find it.” Michael sheathed his sword again.
Balthazar’s red eyes flickered. “We’ll see.”
“Demons.” Michael looked at Balthazar with disdain.
“Our bargain?” Balthazar held Michael’s gaze. He couldn’t hide the anticipation in his voice.
“I’m not like you.” Michael straightened as if his honor had been questioned. “I don’t go back on my deal.”
Chills gripped Abigail. Ringmaster’s words rang in her ear. No, it couldn’t be.
Michael curled his lip. He pointed at Brayden. “Take him. He’s tainted. Pledged his soul to you, another abomination.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sweat poured down Blade’s face. His shins throbbed. It took every bit of strength he had to hold onto Brayden. He wrapped his arm around Brayden’s throat to pull him clo
se. The possessed kid dug his fingernails into Blade’s forearm. Blade gritted his teeth to keep from crying out.
Abigail cried out, “Noooooo!”
“Michael, damn it,” Blade said. “You’ve got the damn board. Let the kid go.”
Michael looked at him genuinely astonished. He only saw right and wrong and anyone who he didn’t see it his way was misguided—or worse, immoral. “Why? So, he can terrorize the town of Frisco? No. He’s got no soul. He’s tasted human blood and wants more.”
Hamilton shook and moaned. “God, I really don’t feel well.”
Michael walked over to where Hamilton lay.
“Mine.” Brayden twisted and turned. He dug his nails deeper into Blade’s flesh. “Leave my food alone.”
Blade dreaded the snarly voice, Brayden was losing his humanity, but he wasn’t gone yet. Maybe there was still a chance he could save his soul. Blade tightened his choke hold. “Will you stop?”
Brayden sputtered and spit. He jammed his heels into Blade’s shin, then raised his hand to claw at his face. Blade turned his head. Brayden grabbed a clump of his hair and pulled.
“You actually think he can be saved?” Michael shook his head. His voice was surprisingly gentle. “You can barely restrain him.” He touched Hamilton’s arm and a white light glowed beneath his palm. “The poison will wear off soon,” Michael said as he stood. He gestured toward Hamilton. “His name wasn’t in the book, but Brayden’s has been stripped.”
Balthazar walked toward Blade. “Looks like you’re having some trouble with the boy. Let me take him off your hands.”
“No,” Abigail cried. She ran to block Balthazar’s path, her arms spread out wide. “You can’t have him.”
A dangerous and stupid thing to do. Balthazar could reach in and rip out her heart. Fear shot through Blade. “Red, get behind me. You can’t challenge him.”
“Listen to him, beautiful,” Balthazar said, his voice too syrupy sweet. “You don’t want to challenge me.”
Blade wanted to grab Abigail’s arm and yank her behind him, but he couldn’t do a damn thing with zombie boy threatening to eat everyone in the room, including the Angel of Death.
Balthazar took a step around her, but she thwarted him. “He’s my brother,” Abigail said. “My last living relative.”
“Not my problem,” Balthazar said. “No one forced him to use the board. He pledged his soul to me. Now, he’s mine. Forever.” He thrust his thumb out. “Out of my way.”
Abigail got on her knees and bowed her head. “Michael, Please, you can heal him? You’re an Archangel.”
The desperation in her voice tore at Blade’s soul.
Michael shook his head. “I can’t interfere with free will. Your brother chose to give up his soul.”
Balthazar reached over Abigail’s head, but she knocked his arm away. “No, he didn’t know what he was doing.”
“Actually, he did,” Michael said. “He saw what happened to the other patients and knew what would happen to him if he used the board. He wanted to be powerful, and now, he is. Blade is stronger than any human, and he is struggling to hold your brother.”
“You’re trying my patience, woman,” Balthazar warned, his face darkened and fire glowed in his pupils.
“Damn it, Abigail, get away from him,” Blade commanded.
Tears welling in her eyes, she clasped her palms together. “Raphael, Raphael. Please come and help me.”
“He won’t come either,” Michael answered softly. “He cannot interfere in free will. It’s God’s command, and our law.”
Blade stared hard at Michael. He didn’t want to do this, and he shook from head to toe, but he couldn’t stand to see Abigail in pain. She’d lost so much because of him. “Michael, exchange me for the boy. I’ll pay for his sins and mine.”
Michael studied him, his brow furrowed, as if he couldn’t believe someone he considered an abomination would make such a sacrifice.
Balthazar flashed a cruel Cheshire cat smile. He glanced over his shoulder at Michael. “I’d accept his proposal.”
“Blade.” Poison looked at Balthazar warily. “Think about what you’re saying.”
Face pale, Ringmaster gasped, still wearied from touching the board. “Blade, you know what he’ll do to you.”
Even fighting to hold onto a mad zombie, Blade could see the terror in Ringmaster’s eyes. Demon traitors were the lowest scum in hell. Balthazar tortured traitors over and over and over again. He never tired of their screams. But Brayden was a boy. He deserved a second chance. Blade was his only way out.
Abigail gaped at him. She glanced at all the others’ faces and wiped her cheek. “Blade, there has to be another way.”
“There is no other way,” Michael said slowly. “The choice is yours, woman. Your brother or Blade. Make it fast.”
“Damn it, Michael,” Blade growled. “Don’t make her choose. You think I’m a bloody abomination. You want me to be punished. I’m offering to go on my own free will. Just do it.”
Michael glowered a moment longer. “I heard you the first time, demon.”
“He’s not a demon,” Poison argued. “Or an angel. He’s human.” The blood drained from her face and fear shone in her silver eyes. “What he’ll do to him—”
Abigail bit her lip. Blade knew her choice but didn’t want to hear it. “Raphael, damn it. Do something.”
“He can’t do anything. The choice is hers.”
The admission, as much as raw honesty in the archangel’s voice, sank Blade’s hope.
“Now, that’s not entirely true, is it, brother?”
With rain splattered hair and soaked clothes, Raphael strolled up the stairs. “I do hate these games you play, Michael. Really, putting a spell on the house to keep me out? What would Peter say?”
“Raphael,” Abigail half sobbed. “You’re here.”
Raphael gave her a small smile. “Yes, I am.”
Hope brimmed in her eyes. “You can heal Brayden.”
Raphael glanced at Brayden. Brayden jerked, and Blade loosened his grip. He lunged for Abigail. Blade grabbed him and threw him on the ground, falling on top of him. He sat on his back and pinned his arms, but it was like riding a bucking, rabid horse.
“Michael is right, my child. I can’t interfere. Brayden made his choice. Free will.”
“But he didn’t know what he was doing,” she insisted.
“I know you want to believe this,” Raphael said. “But we all know it’s not true.” He sighed and stared at Blade. Blade swallowed.
“You remember what I told you?”
Sweat soaking his back, his arms tired, Blade nodded. “Yes, I’m ready.”
Raphael lifted Abigail’s trembling chin. “You know, she’s one of mine. I’ll make the choice.”
Michael chewed on his cheek. “Fine. Let it be done.”
Balthazar stormed over to Blade, grabbed his hair, and yanked. “Let the Hell games begin.”
“Heal, the boy first,” Blade gritted his teeth.
Michael unleashed his sword and his aura glowed brighter. “Balthazar.”
Balthazar hissed, but not even he would challenge Michael. If Michael unleashed his true powers, Balthazar wouldn’t have a chance and not even his boss would save him. He released Blade’s hair, and Blade gulped air.
Balthazar knelt, grabbed Brayden’s shoulder, and pulled him close. He blew swirling white smoke into his mouth and nose. The boy shuddered. As his eyes rolled to back of his head, his snarl died.
“Brayden,” Abigail cried. “What did you do to him?”
Balthazar flicked his hand at Abigail as if she were a fly. “He’s not dead. Quit screaming. You’re annoying me.”
Blade slowly shook his head, hoping she would stay where she was. He wanted to rush over to her, gather her in his arms to protect her, but this wasn’t the time. He was going to hell.
Balthazar snapped his fingers. “Now, Blade.”
Blade nodded. Ignoring his thumping heart that s
ent fear and horror through his veins, he forced his trembling legs to stand. There was no way out. He refused to look at anyone but Balthazar. Balthazar was his master.
Pain and agony awaited him. There was no misunderstanding. There was no leniency. There was no salvation.
Hope fled him. He wished he could die, but no one died in Hell. No one got that luxury.
“Wait, there’s got to be another way,” Abigail said, her voice a shaky whisper.
“There’s not,” Balthazar said. “You made your choice.”
“No, Raphael did,” she argued.
Balthazar sneered. “Don’t be a fool. He only said what you were too afraid to say. He sees what is in your heart.”
Blade glared. “Leave her alone.”
Balthazar slammed his fist into Blade’s mouth. Blade staggered. The liquid metallic taste of blood dripped down his throat. Shit, this was just beginning.
“I’m your Lord and Master now,” Balthazar warned. “Be silent, slave.”
Abigail looked between Michael and Raphael. “Help him.”
“They can’t.” Sorrow filled Poison’s glistening eyes. “Free will.”
Abigail wiped her palms on her jeans. “Free will? What—”
“Abigail, he chose to exchange his life for Brayden’s,” Ringmaster said. “Michael and Raphael will not interfere.”
“No, take—” Abigail gazed at Blade.
Blade lunged and grabbed her arm. He shook her.
She half sobbed and cupped his face. “I didn’t want this.”
“Listen to me.” He dug his fingers into her flesh hard. “Don’t ever say it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” He wanted to kiss her luscious lips to indulge in her feminine taste one more time, to remember her sweet scent, to feel her soft flesh before Balthazar reveled in his twisted games. But he refrained. Balthazar would lash out. He didn’t care if he hurt him, but he refused to even have one strand of Abigail’s red hair be ripped out. “Stay alive. Part of me will remain with you.” He hugged her tight, inhaling her fresh fragrance mixed with rain. He brushed his mouth against her ear. “Pray for Scythe.”
She lifted her head and frowned. Blade shook his head. She glanced at Balthazar and nodded. Blade hoped she understood. He braced his shoulders. His heart heavy, he released her. “Poison?”