by Raven Steele
“I hate these things!” Rick yelled.
Lucien snatched a metal napkin holder on top of a nearby table and smashed it into the face of the diablo that bound him. The blow lightened the grip enough that Lucien was able to spin free. As he did so, Rick stabbed the diablo in the side of the head.
“Die foul beast,” Rick growled.
Charlie slid across a table and finished off the woman Lucien had kicked earlier.
Seven more to go. Lucien analyzed the situation quickly, determining whom to kill first. There was only one who worried him. A fully changed diablo that was several inches taller than him with a chest that looked more like a tree trunk. He was entirely nude but there was nothing left of him that resembled a human.
Lucien worked fast, snapping the necks of two diablos and fighting a third who proved more challenging. Rick was struggling with his own, not because he was weaker, but because he didn’t want to touch the creature whose face had partially peeled off; one eye rested just outside its socket.
Charlie went straight for the larger diablo, surprising Lucien. Charlie was a good fighter, but he was no match for this diablo. Before Lucien could help him, the diablo swung his open palm at Charlie. Charlie flew backwards and crashed on top of a table, moaning.
Lucien dropped to the ground and slashed at the smaller diablo’s knee, a blow deep enough to slow the creature down. The Goliath diablo’s long, thick arms were raised high above Charlie. His fists came crashing down. Charlie slid off the table, just before the table splintered from the blow.
Using speed and strength, Lucien rained blows into Goliath’s back, hoping to weaken him enough to deliver a deathblow. Goliath turned around, swung once, then twice. Lucien dodged both. Lucien came up and swung the blade sideways at the creature’s head, but the diablo snuck in a punch at his gut. Lucien doubled over, the pain severe. Another blow came again onto his back, dropping him to the floor. Before Lucien could roll away, the beast’s heavy foot stomped on his head and pressed hard. Stars exploded in Lucien’s vision and swirled deep red. Lucien growled, a deep feral cry.
Charlie hurled a dagger at Goliath’s chest while Rick threw a glass at his head. Goliath blocked both, but at least he stepped away from Lucien. The pressure on his head lifted. One more second, and his brain might’ve exploded.
As soon as Lucien’s vision cleared, he pulled himself to his feet. Rick was sprawled across the floor, moaning and holding his oddly bent knee, while Goliath gripped Charlie’s neck and lifted him high off the floor. Charlie’s eyes had closed, and his body fell limp.
With his heart thundering within his chest, Lucien rushed the giant diablo, swooping up a broken metal table leg as he went. In an upward motion, Lucien rammed the metal into the diablo’s stomach. The creature dropped Charlie’s body and wailed a terrible cry. Lucien kicked at the table leg, further embedding it into the monster’s gut.
“Sword!” Rick called and tossed Lucien’s weapon into the air.
Lucien caught it midair and swiped downwards. The blade sunk into the diablo’s leathery skin just below the back of its head, but stopped short at the spine. Lucien slid the blade out, ducked when Goliath swung at him, and swiped at his neck again. This time Goliath’s head dropped to the ground, thudding as if a hollow melon. The rest of his body fell back, the skin already withering into itself.
Lucien lowered to Charlie’s side. Charlie’s eyes were still closed and his breathing shallow. “Wake up, Charlie!”
“His bell got rung good,” Rick said as he limped over to him. “We should probably get him back to the Deific.”
“He’ll be fine.” Lucien rubbed his knuckles hard against Charlie’s sternum.
Charlie flinched, then moaned, but his eyes remained closed. Lucien repeated the motion. Harder this time. Charlie’s eyes flew open, and he swung his fist at Lucien, who easily dodged it.
“That’s more like it,” Lucien said. He straightened and held out his hand toward Charlie. “We have a lot to do. Hurry up.”
“I apologize for almost dying,” Charlie said sarcastically as he accepted Lucien’s hand.
“What are we going to do about this mess?” Rick asked. “And where are the normal employees? Or the boss of this place?”
Lucien walked into the kitchen entrance behind the counter and froze. A surge of anger burned deep inside him. “They’re back here.”
“Alive?” Charlie asked.
“Dead.” Lucien puffed a heavy breath out his nose.
Four bodies, one man and three women, two of the females looked like teenagers, had been piled on top of each other, their throats cut and limbs mangled. Lucien suddenly regretted killing the diablos as quickly as they had instead of making them suffer.
He walked back into the dining room. Charlie was on the phone with the Deific, asking for cleanup assistance, and Rick was mumbling something to himself as he stepped over piles of skin and fat.
A sudden and violent chill shook Lucien. He stumbled forward, catching himself on a nearby table.
The phone fell from Charlie’s hand, clattering against the tiled floor. He turned to Lucien. “Did you feel that, too?”
“Feel what?” Rick asked.
Lucien hurried out the door and onto the darkened street. A bigger evil was at play, but it wasn’t just present, it was actively engaged with something. Or someone. Waves of dark energy pulsed through the street. He could practically taste its bitterness.
Charlie was right behind him. “The diablos must’ve been masking the power.”
“What do you think is causing it?” Lucien asked, his eyes scanning the darkness for the source.
“It’s got to be a witch. A mega powerful one.” He turned around to Rick. “Help the others take care of this mess. We’ll be right back.”
“Ah, man, really?” Rick whined. “You know I hate this stuff!”
Lucien jogged next to Charlie. “Where are we going?”
“Following the source. It’s stronger this way.” Charlie glanced sideways at him. “Are you ready for this? Because we could call Henry.”
“I’m ready.”
“This isn’t your typical monster, Lucien. This is a powerful witch. You can’t muscle your way through this one.” Charlie stopped at the corner and looked up and down each of the streets.
Lucien wasn’t sure he was ready. He’d done well against the Vyel at the club, but that man hadn’t been a witch.
“This way,” Charlie said and turned up the street.
There were a few parked cars against the curb, but other than that, there were no signs of life, not even a distance headlight.
“It’s too quiet,” Lucien said. “Where is everyone?”
“Subconsciously avoiding this place. You’d be surprised by what humans can sense. They just couldn’t tell you why.” Charlie stopped at the entrance of an apartment building and shivered. “It’s coming from in here. Man, I don’t feel very good.”
While Charlie doubled over, Lucien too felt his stomach twist in a direction it wasn’t supposed to as dark energy leaking from the building coated an inky film all over him. Each breath only made the sickness that much worse.
“We should hurry,” Lucien said. “If the power’s making us ill, I can’t imagine what it’s doing to the humans inside.”
Charlie vomited what little food was in his stomach and straightened, his face pale. “This is going to be rough. Maybe I should call Henry.”
Lucien jerked the door open, breaking the lock. “Just wait. This witch could have something to do with Boaz. We don’t need to blow his cover yet.”
Charlie followed behind him into the small lobby, his hand clutching his stomach.
“Upstairs,” Charlie said.
Lucien turned away from the elevator and headed toward the stairwell. Best to stay away from anything mechanical while magic was present. And this magic was practically palpable.
He pushed open the door and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. Charlie was behind him, c
oughing and making strange noises with his throat.
“I am so sick,” Charlie said, puffy through each breath.
Lucien was about to tell him to suck it up, but stopped abruptly and inhaled deeply. His heart lurched inside his chest, so much so that he touched his palm to it as if to steady its rhythm.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, hunched over and hands on his knees.
“Eve’s been here. Recently.”
Charlie straightened, color returning to his face. “Go!”
Lucien hurried up the steps. With each floor he approached, he glanced back at Charlie for direction. Charlie continued pointing up until they reached the sixth floor.
“Here,” he said.
Lucien shoved open the door. A hallway stretched long and thin, doors closed on each side. There were no sounds coming from behind them. Hopefully tenants were only sleeping and not nearing death. The dark energy permeating the building was like a toxin to their system.
Charlie hurried past him, his hand outstretched toward the doors on each side sensing for magic. He waved his fingers in a rhythmic pattern, as if they were skimming the slow swells of the ocean.
Lucien followed behind, flexing his jaw muscle and shaking his head. How did Eve always seem to be one step ahead of him? They needed to be working together before something terrible happened.
Charlie stopped in front of a door. Color drained from his face again. “Behind here. Can you feel it?”
Lucien raised his hands a few inches from the door. They tingled as if a magnetic force protected the apartment. This energy felt different. Good and pure.
“Eve,” Lucien said. “But there’s something else.”
“What?”
Lucien cocked his head, listening closely. Beyond the door was total silence, an unnatural stillness that unnerved him. “It’s like there’s a black hole on the other side.”
“What do you think we’re walking into?”
Lucien placed his hand on the doorknob. “One way to find out.”
He turned the doorknob and pressed hard, but the door wouldn’t open. He tried again, using all his strength.
“Let me,” Charlie said.
Lucien looked at him deadpan. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. “Maybe my psychic abilities can open it.”
Lucien stepped back. Charlie turned the knob, even throwing his shoulder into it, but the door wouldn’t budge. “It’s sealed by magic. You’re going to have to open it.”
Lucian groaned. He missed the days when he could just use brute strength to get through a door. He placed both hands on the wood and concentrated hard, first seeking out the magic that held it in place. It was sweet and filled him with a warm light. Eve’s touch. He swallowed. This was not a magic he wanted to destroy but rather join.
The union came quickly. There was no push back, no defensive maneuvers forcing him away. Her magic was already a part of him; those threads of light had spun together the moment he had laid eyes on her.
With a simple thought, the door opened.
“How did you do that?” Charlie whispered.
Lucien opened the door, slowly at first, but when he saw the smashed remains of a chair scattered across the white tile floor, he threw the door open the rest of the way. Parts of the walls had been demolished, windows shattered and furniture crushed. But worse was the blood. Too much of it all over the floor and walls. And still, there was an odd silence even though a chunk of the ceiling had just crumbled to the floor.
Lucien felt a tug on his arm. He turned around. Charlie spoke frantically, but Lucien couldn’t hear him. This place had been soundproofed by magic. He shook his head and pointed to his mouth.
Charlie lifted his arms as if to say, what the hell do we do now?
Lucien walked by Charlie and stepped over debris to get out of the entryway. He turned a corner and stopped, his eyes locking with Eve’s. The front of her shirt and parts of her face were painted deep scarlet. The way the pattern had splattered across her front made it look like she wore war paint instead of blood.
All at once, sound returned to the room. Charlie yelling at him to stop. Bits of ceiling dropping to the ground. In the corner, deep within the shadows, he spotted Sable. She was breathing heavily, bathed in a dress of blood, yet Lucien could see no visible wounds. She must have been able to heal herself with magic. No one could survive that much blood loss … unless it was Eve’s.
Lucien darted toward her, but a piercing cry stopped him cold.
“Lucien!” Eve gasped, her eyes focused on Sable behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder. Sable had her arm raised in a throw position. She gripped a piece of glass twice the size of her hand. She was about to release it in his direction, but at the last moment flung it hard toward Eve at a speed faster than Lucien could fly.
The shard of glass sliced into the front of Eve’s neck, but stopped before cutting her head off completely. Blood poured from the wound and bubbled from her full lips, spilling onto her chin.
Dread shook his frame, and he sucked in a ragged breath.
“Come any closer, and I’ll sever her spinal cord,” Sable warned. Her voice was deep and scratchy, as if she’d been screaming for a long time. “Not even Eve could come back from that.”
Lucien’s body tensed. “Let her go. I’ll do anything.”
“I don’t want you,” Sable said to him as she moved closer to Eve. “Nobody does. This is what is going to happen. You’re going to let me take Eve out of here, or I’ll kill her.”
“She’s bluffing,” Charlie said.
Lucien rose to his feet and made eye contact with Charlie. If anyone knew a person’s true intentions, it was Charlie. “Are you sure?”
Charlie nodded and swallowed hard, his face pale.
Lucien swung his head around, his eyes alive with fury. He was going to kill Sable and enjoy every second of it. Anger boiled inside of him into a powerful rage, one that had to be released.
He raised his fisted hands and snapped his fingers outward. A burst of energy exploded from his fingertips and stormed toward Sable. It hit her in the chest, tossing her body into the air. Lucien was there to catch her and slam her body to the floor. With his palms on each side of her head, he transferred the burning inferno inside him directly into Sable’s mind. Her eyeballs rolled back into her head, and her body began to tremble. Blood ran from her nose, and more followed from her ears. He pressed harder, wanting to destroy her for all the things she had done to Eve.
“Lucien, stop!” Charlie yelled.
Lucien pressed harder.
“We need her! Stop!”
Lucien ground his teeth together.
We don’t need her. The world doesn’t need her.
This would be the last anyone ever saw of Sable Whitmore.
Chapter 12
Eve’s heart beat slow and steady. The organ felt small and fragile within her chest. The last thing she remembered was seeing Lucien in that place with her mother. The sight of him had distracted her, and she’d lost her hold on her magic. What had come next caused excruciating pain. Her mother had almost killed her.
Eve grimaced, her eyes closed tight.
“Eve?” a familiar voice asked.
She opened her eyes. She was in an office, most likely at the Deific, lying on a couch. A desk and bookcase were across from her. And in a chair next to her sat Charlie. His face was pale, and he was shaking his head.
“Your hair’s longer,” Eve said.
He dropped to his knees and clasped her hands in his. “When Lucien said he heard your voice and even saw you at the club, I wasn’t sure I believed it. But here you are.”
She gave a weak smile. “Here I am.”
“Where have you been?” he asked, his tone gentle but laced with bitterness. She expected nothing less.
She lowered her gaze. “I’ll explain, but I would prefer to do it only once. Where’s Lucien? Henry?”
“Lucien was here moments ago, but He
nry needed him. He’ll be right back.” Charlie lifted his hand and brushed back stray hairs on her forehead. “I can’t believe you’re here. I searched the bottom of the ocean for you for weeks, but all I found was Lucien. He was a poor substitute.”
“What was Lucien doing down there?”
“Literally drowning in his sorrows.” Charlie returned to the chair. “In a way, we were all drowning. Your ‘death’ changed us.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“The changes weren’t all bad. Lucien has been more focused than ever in finding Boaz. He had a purpose.”
Eve had sensed the anger inside Lucien when they had kissed. “Revenge isn’t a healthy purpose.”
“It’s all he had, Eve. You were the one person to bring him back among the living and then suddenly you were just gone. Revenge is the best kind of motivator.”
Eve pushed up into a sitting position, taking her time. Even though she was already physically healed from her battle with Sable, there were emotional wounds still raw and sore. “Are we still talking about Lucien?”
Charlie avoided her gaze. “I brought Lucien to the surface, but it was several days before he woke. You should’ve at least called or sent word somehow. All this pain and heartache could’ve been avoided.”
“But there was an emotional spell on Lucien,” she countered. “I couldn’t risk Boaz finding out I was alive. Surely you can understand that?”
“Lucien, sure. I get why you kept it from him. But what about me? Or even Henry? You’re one of the most powerful witches in the world. Surely you could’ve found a way to let us know.”
Eve’s throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow. Yes, she could have, but fear had stopped her.
Charlie narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t want us to know, did you? Why?”
The door opened. Eve locked eyes with Lucien. He lifted one arm to the doorjamb, as if to steady himself.