Spells & Ashes

by Kim Richardson

  Kyllian had never forgiven himself after that.

  Completely understandable. That was bound to mess anyone up. That was the downside of being an angel. They were tools, soldiers, belonging to the Legion. On the whole, they’re an adaptable sort of being. But just like us witches, not all angels were created equally. And not all angels were heartless killing machines.

  I felt his pain. I couldn’t get soul-Julia’s frightened face out of my mind. And I’d tried to save her.

  A shiver prickled my skin. Not because of her memory but because I knew what it could mean, when you forced yourself to live with that amount of guilt. It changed you. Maybe not all at once. But it would. And I didn’t want to think about what it meant for my friend. But he was scarred, and he thought of himself as something horrible.

  His guilt was eating away at him. I didn’t think angels could die of alcohol poisoning, but one day he was going to piss off the wrong half-breed crowd, and they were going to kill him.

  “Can you walk?” I asked, knowing that even with a strength spell or sigil, there was no way I could carry this huge angel. He probably weighed over two hundred pounds. That’s two hundred pounds of angel muscle. “I need to get you to the water fountain. It’s deep enough.”

  I knew angels masqueraded on Earth using temporary human vessels. Not as actual humans, but more like a disguise. Angels required a large amount of water to transition their bodies back to Horizon. Kind of like getting a “beam up” in Star Trek. Though their bodies were superficial, they mimicked all the sensations of a human body. Meaning, they felt pain.

  “No. Horizon,” he said, his voice labored as though it took every bit of strength left just to utter those two words.

  My pulse hammered. “Damn it. You’re going to die if you don’t go back. I don’t have any healing spells or ointments to heal you, you idiot. You need to get your angel ass back to Horizon.”

  Kyllian shook his head stubbornly, his eye widening as he started to shiver. Great. A shivering angel was a very bad sign.

  “No. Horizon. Take. Me. Your. Place.”

  I cursed loud and low. “You damn, stubborn angel!” I was furious, but I was also scared. I couldn’t deal with an angel dying on my watch. I’d already had a human girl die. I wouldn’t let Kyllian die. But what did I know about healing a broken angel? Absolutely nothing.

  We’d stumbled across each other five years ago while I was investigating a lead on a demon baby snatcher. Turns out the demon was a Teko demon, a revenant female demon who feeds on the souls of infants. The demon nearly killed me, but Kyllian came out of nowhere, a brilliant angel force, and saved my ass. We’d been friends ever since.

  I searched his face and tried not to cringe at the mountainous welts that were forming on his left cheekbone. “I’m not taking you if you’re going to die on me. You hear me? Do you know how to heal yourself?” Say yes, or I’m going to dunk you in the fountain myself.

  His lips trembled as he said, “Yes.”

  No shit. Of course he was going to say yes.

  “You’re going to have to help me out a little, okay? I’m going to wrap your left arm around my shoulders and pull you up. But I’m going to need your help. Can you do that?” God. I can’t believe I’m going through with this. I’ve clearly lost my mind.

  Kyllian moaned a faint, “Yes.”

  A surge of adrenaline went through me. With a Herculean effort on my part, Kyllian staggered up, dazed and choking on his own blood. That was just fantastic. I staggered from his sheer weight, and for a horrifying moment I thought we were both going to collapse until I found my footing.

  The smell of lemons and oranges hit me, the scent of angels, all mixed in with the scent of alcohol and male perspiration.

  “My God, you’re heavy,” I said through gritted teeth, sweat already forming on my forehead. It was like hauling a furless grizzly bear.

  Together we left the alley and headed down toward Twilight Avenue. We made an interesting pair. I caught the disapproving scowls of a few witches and vampires as we waddled by. I was pretty sure they weren’t whispering about how cute a couple we were.

  I tried hard not to look at the piece of bone that was poking out of his arm, but bile rose up the back of my throat whenever my eyes landed on it. Puking now was not an option. I just hoped he wasn’t lying about being able to fix himself.

  “You’re lucky you’re hot,” I panted, my thighs shaking from the effort of supporting most of his weight. “If you were ugly, I would have left your ass back there.”

  A hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “I. Know.”

  I was tall for a woman, five nine, strong, but I was still a woman. I lacked the upper body strength that most men had. Not to mention super strength that female werewolves and vampires were born with.

  “Stupid angel.” And stupid me. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. My grandfather was going to have a fit.

  I only lived around the block from the pub, but it felt like I’d been dragging this giant angel for hours. When my house bobbed into view, I nearly collapsed in relief. I didn’t even know how we managed to get up that flight of steps, but we did. Even in his battered state, we managed.

  Vera’s front yard was empty. Thank the cauldron. I did not want to have to deal with that gossip-hungry witch right now. I might kill her.

  “I’m going to lean in and open the door,” I said. “Try not to let yourself fall. I won’t be able to stop you.” And then I’d be crushed under his weight.

  The angel gave a nod. I took a strained breath, leaned forward, and tried the knob. It was unlocked. I pulled back. Then I kicked the door open, and we staggered into the dark hallway like a drunken couple. My body was drenched in sweat. By the time I’d dropped him on my couch, it looked like I’d taken a shower with my clothes on.

  Kyllian’s body twitched, and his left hand came up as though he were trying to catch some phantom. “The children!” he wailed. “The children.”

  Crap.

  I dropped my bag and knelt next to the couch to brush the hair from his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Kyllian?” I examined his face. “Kyllian?” I said louder. Damn it. He’d passed out. How was I supposed to help him now? Angel bodies were nothing like ours. Or were they? Taking him to a hospital was out of the question. And I didn’t think magic would work. I had a first-aid kit in the bathroom. That would have to do for now, or until he woke up again.

  Behind me, the floorboards squeaked.

  With my heart in my throat, I spun around and found four pairs of gleaming, yellow eyes staring at me. A blast of cold terror struck me like a mallet.

  Demons.

  10

  Did I mention this was not my night?

  A nauseating stench of rotten flesh hit me. I gagged, my eyes watering. They had adjusted well enough to the darkness to see them.

  Lean and wiry like Dobermans, they had thin, leatherlike skin the color of moss. Large paws ended with sharp, black talons. Chunks of rotten flesh fell, revealing white bones and oozing orange-and-yellow, putrid juices. Maggots and flies poured from the open wounds. Nice. Now I’d have to fumigate the place.

  The light from the street spilled in from the bay window, reflecting off their skinless, wolflike, elongated skulls. Deep-sunken, dead eyes fixed on me. Maws opened, and they let out a collective eerie wail, unnatural and unworldly, making my skin erupting in goose bumps. Their yellow eyes gleamed with hatred and intelligence. I knew that look. It was a “I’m going to eat you look.” Great.

  Still, I felt a small moment of relief. Their attention was focused on me. They didn’t seem to care about the angel. Strange. A wounded angel was like free candy to a demon.

  The closest demon lunged.

  I threw myself to the side and heard the sound of talons scraping the wood floor. Pain tore at my leg, and I staggered as it flared up like I’d stuck it in a fire. I kept going. I ran down the hall and into the kitchen, pulling on the power of my rings as I went.

  “Kyllian! W
ake up!” I shouted as loudly as I could as I galloped down the hall, blood pounding in my ears.

  The scraping came louder.

  I reached the kitchen island and spun around.

  Channeling the magic from my rings, I flung out my hand and shouted, “Feurantis!”

  A ball of fire shot from my outstretched hand and hit the demon in the chest.

  It burst into flame.

  Yellow-and-orange flames as tall as me flared up and covered the demon. Wailing, the creature thrashed, trying to run away from the fire. But there was nowhere to run. The flames took on rims of red and gold as they grew, warming my face. The heat from the fire made me take a step back.

  I gagged as the scent of burnt flesh assaulted me, and then the heat vanished. The flames subsided, and a pile of ash was all that remained of the demon.

  One down. Three to go.

  As though reading my mind, two demons appeared in my kitchen, stepping into the ash and leaving a trail of their dead brethren behind them like muddy paw prints.

  One of the demon’s jaws hung open, exposing rows of fishlike teeth and a thick, gray tongue. It licked its lips, as if to show it was going to taste my flesh next.

  “I don’t think so, puppy.”

  They were lesser demons, by the looks of them, with slightly higher intelligence than the average Border Collie. Someone had sent them to kill me.

  The lesser demons watched me, their yellow eyes gleaming with the promise of pain and death. The air moved about me, carrying the scent of rot.

  Using those mere seconds, I channeled the energy from the rings, willing it to me, and bending it to my will. The air cracked with the sudden inflow of magic.

  The demons charged me.

  With inhuman speed, the creatures came at me like a pack of hungry wolves. I jumped back, my focus lost, just as a head hammered into me, the force knocking me off my feet. I fell hard. I looked up and saw teeth and eyes above me, bugs spilling from their wounds like water from a tap.

  Vomit threatening, I scrambled backwards, trying to come up with a spell but failing as my concentration was replaced by primal fear. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to be torn apart and eaten by these ugly bastards.

  I spun and got to my feet amid a flash of teeth and talons. I slipped on something crunchy yet liquidy. Bugs—yup, very gross—and went headfirst into the kitchen table and chairs. Chairs flew, and pain exploded on my forehead, the throbbing already foreshadowing a giant bruise. Great, now Kyllian and I would be twins.

  Instincts kicked in. I rolled over to the side and grabbed the legs from the nearest chair and came back up swinging in time to catch one of the demons on the side of the head.

  There was a loud crack, and the demon went down. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew it wasn’t dead. It would be back on its feet in a matter of seconds.

  My hip burned with pain, which I supposed was better than the dull numbness of more serious injuries like death. But at the moment it was the least of my worries. Movement flashed in my peripheral vision.

  My instincts suddenly screamed, and I flung myself around. With the chair still in my grasp I swung it like a baseball bat and smashed it against the open maw of another demon. The chair exploded into pieces, but this time the demon didn’t go down.

  It shook its head, eyes gleaming with lust and fury. It snarled and then lunged.

  Shit.

  I clutched the chair’s leg, the only piece left of my pathetic weapon. I swung and missed.

  The demon crashed into me with the force of a moving truck. It pinned me to the floor with one paw, cutting off my ability to breathe. Its supernatural strength told me it could have just as easily pushed its paw right through my chest.

  Putrid breath assaulted my face as the demon leaned forward, opening its maw like it was gauging how to get my entire head inside. Yellow drool dripped on my face, streaming from its teeth. I retched. It hovered above me, its body quivering in anticipated delight at eating me. Swell. This wasn’t going so well.

  I was pissed. First because a demon had pinned me to the floor of my own home, and second, because I was certain I’d just swallowed some of its spit.

  I might not have been able to move, but there was nothing wrong with my brain.

  I gathered the energy from my anger, my fear, and my aching head, and spun it into the rings. Reaching out, I pressed my free hand on the demon’s front leg and shouted, “Glacis!” as I let out the pent-up wave of energy from the rings.

  The rush of energy hit the demon. Its yellow eyes widened in shock and then fear. It leaped off me and then froze as its body slowly began to fossilize, a thin coat of ice spreading over its legs and growing until it reached its head. My breath turned to frost in front of my nose.

  I didn’t wait to see the final effect. I pushed to my feet, surprised at the now-frozen, stiff demon that stood before me, its entire body covered in a thick sheet of white ice, looking every bit like a demon popsicle.

  “You forgot the stick.” And then I swung my makeshift bat at the block of demon ice, shattering it into thousands of pieces.

  “Didn’t see that coming. Did you?” I told the shards of ice. Hell, I didn’t even know I could do that.

  Of course that’s when the other one decided to show up.

  Searing, white-hot pain exploded in my back as I literally felt teeth sink into my flesh and back out again. Yikes. That hurt like a bitch.

  In a blur, I was yanked across the room, the wall acting as my savior when I hit it instead of crashing through the window. I slipped to the floor like a ragdoll.

  “Well. That went well,” I panted, hurting all over. “Grandpa!” I shouted. “If you were planning on a grand entrance, the time is now!”

  I listened for his voice but only got the horrid hissing and growls from the two ghastly beasts from the Netherworld.

  Bracing myself, I shot to my feet, blinking the black and white spots from my vision as I tried to focus on a spell, but my head felt like it was full of water. I was so tired.

  I could hit one, but by the time I conjured up another fireball, the other demon’s teeth would be pulling out my jugular.

  I knew it. They knew it.

  I looked at the demons and made a face. “You know, this isn’t how I expected to die. I had pictured more of a celebration. Me and a couple of hot guys soaking in a hot cauldron.”

  The demons raised their heads in unison, seemingly scenting my fear and desperation, but I couldn’t tell since they had no skin on their heads.

  I’d come close to dying a few times in my line of work. But I’d always managed a curse or spell that got me out of sticky, deathlike situations.

  But not this time. I’d never felt scared before, but this fear, well, it was everything.

  I stared at death in the faces of the demons, and I felt a sudden surge of anger.

  I twisted my face in a snarl to match their own. “Come on, you stinky bastards,” I cried, standing with my hands apart.

  Together the demons leaped. Claws and fangs flashed.

  A shadow appeared over them. A glowing shadow.

  The demons halted.

  Kyllian swooped in with preternatural speed, his face bone white. He seized the first demon by the throat and slammed it into the wall, again and again, until I heard its spine snap. Then with his injured arm holding a blade, he sliced it across the neck.

  The demon slipped to the floor in a slop of guts, blood, and insects before exploding in a cloud of ash.

  In a frenzy, the last demon threw itself at the angel, but it was no match for him.

  With a blur of fangs and claws, the creature attacked. It screamed, front legs thrashing and its maw going for the angel’s neck.

  And then the angel sliced the creature in half as neatly and simply as if he’d just cut through butter. The demon shrieked in pain, an eerie, bellowing sound that bore the depths of its physical agony. Then the two halves slopped to the ground and exploded into a cloud of ash.

 
; It was over in five seconds.

  And for a moment, I saw that great and terrible warrior standing before me. Kyllian. A soldier from the Legion of Angels.

  “Got him,” said the angel. Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed to the floor.

  11

  “What in the bloody cauldron is going on here!” shouted my grandfather, who’d showed up the moment Kyllian hit the floor. “Look at all this mess! Why are there cockroaches and centipedes all over the floor? Are those maggots? By the cauldron! It smells like a grave in here!”

  “Will you stop shouting!” I yelled. “I can’t think.” My head pounded like I’d smashed it against the wall for an hour. My T-shirt was drenched with my own blood, and I hurt in places I didn’t even know could hurt. But none of that mattered now.

  Kyllian had saved me. Then collapsed. And I couldn’t wake him up. Nor could I move him. I’d tried that, and it was like trying to pull a refrigerator with your pinky.

  The skin around his face was pasty, and he looked like he had a fever. But when I reached out and touched his forehead, it was ice cold. A deep panic rose in me. I had to do something.

  My grandfather stood next to me, hands on his hips. “Why were demons in my house?” he cried. “And why did they attack you?”

  “I wish I knew.” I wish I knew a lot of things. “Is Poe back yet?”

  My grandfather made a face. “I thought he was with you.”

  Poe, being more than a thousand-year-old demon, might have had some input on how to heal an angel. But I couldn’t wait for him. I got to my feet and ran toward the couch.

  “Where are you going?” cried my grandfather. I swear I was going to kill him if he didn’t stop yelling at me. I didn’t care that he was family.

  Grabbing my bag with trembling hands, I rushed back to Kyllian’s side. Heart pounding, I turned my bag upside down and shook the contents out onto the floor. Sigil cards, candles, chalks, two vials, dried belladonna, and snakeskin in small, transparent zip bags, a paper notepad, Dark Magic Volume 2: Rituals in Necromancy, Gypsy No. 5 Skin So Soft Healing Balm, two bags of Instant Bubble Protection, a pen, three black markers, and my phone all looked up at me from the floor.