by Sarah Noffke
Stefan laughed coldly. “It makes sense that he’s the one spreading the virus so rapidly.”
“Okay, then it’s settled.” Liv strode into the morning sunlight, away from the bustling thoroughfare where tourists were strolling towards a less trafficked lane
Stefan reached for her, but she was too fast. “Liv, don’t do this.”
She turned, walking backward. “I am doing this, and the only person who can save me is you. So don’t freaking give up, Stefan.”
He gave her a look that could have killed her. “Please,” he pleaded. “Please don’t do this.”
Liv halted. “If it were me in your position, what would you do?”
He bit his bottom lip. “I’d play on what we know about Sabatore, using it to our advantage so that we drew him out and finished him off. Then I’d help you save yourself, hoping that one day you’d thank me for my courageous deeds but not expecting you to. Simply pining for that possibility.”
“It’s gone to your head,” she joked. “You’re starting to hallucinate by reciting bad poetry.”
“And in this fantasy where you thank me, you’d be wearing a cotton sundress,” he continued.
“Yes, it might be too late to save you,” she remarked. “You’ve gone completely insane.”
Stefan managed to crack a sideways smile at her. “I think you’d look good in yellow daisies.”
“When did everyone start vocally disapproving of the way I dress?” Liv asked.
“We’ve always talked about it behind your back, but recently decided to start an intervention.”
Liv shook her head. “There are much bigger problems in the world.”
“Yes, like the fact that the best Warrior the House of Seven has is about to make herself bait for the most vicious demon in this world,” Stefan shot back bitterly.
Liv flashed him a rebellious smile. “I don’t know about that Warrior bit, but yes to being bait, so don’t let me get kissed, Stefan. Save my ass before it’s too late.” She spun around, hurrying for the abandoned passage on the other side the buildings. And let’s hope we save your ass as well before it’s too late, she thought, feeling a cold wind sweep over her cheeks as she exited into an empty courtyard.
Chapter Sixteen
Just act casual, Liv told herself as she strolled through the deserted passage. The sound of jazz and the smell of fried food were strong in the air, a deceptive combination that sought to erase the stark reality of the situation. This wasn’t a vacation in the French Quarter. This was a death mission that would result in either the death of a demon or Stefan Ludwig. And if things went completely to hell, it would be Liv’s end too. However, she tried to not think of that.
She considered whistling like she didn’t have a care in the world, but that just seemed silly. When she got to the section of the avenue where Sabatore had attacked several magicians and elves, according to Renswick, Liv pretended to be lost.
She paused, looking around as if she were trying to get her bearings. Bellator rested on her hip under her cape, but she would only pull it if she absolutely had to. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Stefan needed to rescue her. She’d considered slaughtering Sabatore on her own, but this had to be Stefan’s kill. That demon had put him through hell, and he deserved to be the one who finished him for good, ridding the world of his unique brand of evil.
Liv only hoped that Stefan could do it. That he was strong enough. That he was up for the challenge. Everything was riding on her faith in him.
Taking a deep breath, Liv looked up, trying to appear as though she didn’t know which way to go, like there was a giant compass painted in the sky. The lost were easy targets. The more lost she appeared, the less Sabatore would be expecting the ass-kicking that followed.
Maybe if she wasn’t expecting it, Liv wouldn’t have heard the footsteps on the catwalk overhead on the building behind her. Before she’d started hunting demons, she’d never expected to find them strolling around in broad daylight. Since then, she had learned that they preferred the light, when the lost and lonely were least expecting them. People were on guard at night, fearful of what lurked in the shadows, but in the daylight, most had their guard down.
The sound of two feet landing on the bricks of the alley didn’t make Liv tense. She’d expected it; expected the grand entrance. Again, it was so quiet that if she hadn’t been anticipating it, she wouldn’t have noticed the demon landing at her back or the swish of his jacket as he stood.
She refrained from moving her hand to Bellator. Not defending herself was against her very instincts—and the thing she did next was also.
Liv slapped her hand to her head, appearing to be completely stumped by her complex predicament. “Oh, you dumb blonde. How could you have gotten yourself lost once again,” she said, talking to herself.
The smell of a disgusting demon wafted to her nostrils, replacing the other, better odors in the corridor. Most didn’t know what a demon smelled like, not even magicians. That was because when one met a demon, one didn’t survive the encounter. One merely thought that the smell was the sewage in the underground or a dead animal rotting nearby. However, Liv had been trained by one of the best demon hunters alive, and she knew that smell well; it meant that death was coming close. But not for her. Not that day.
The hands that reached around her, pinning her arms to her side, were the strongest she’d ever felt. Looking down, she saw the slick red skin, a telltale sign of a demon. “Time to die, blondie,” a voice that was reminiscent of her worst nightmares whispered in her ear. Those awful dreams seemed to play in fast forward in her head, filling her with every horrible emotion they’d ever given her.
She pretended to struggle, using half her strength. However, she’d need all her power to fight this demon. Liv dropped to the ground, trying to pull Sabatore over her head. He laughed in her ear, holding her upright. He was very strong. If Stefan didn’t come through, she was absolutely screwed.
Sabatore hugged her to his chest, nearly crushing her, then grabbed her hand, spinning her out like they were doing a strange dance.
And then she saw him. Liv had seen dozens of demons in the last several weeks. However, in all her life, she’d never seen anything as revolting as the beast that stood before her.
Two spiral horns sprouted from his bald red head, and his black eyes blinked at her with a sinister heat she’d never before encountered. Scars marked his face, long streaks that ran over his chin and along his cheekbones, the results of his many brutal battles. And when Sabatore’s nostrils flared, he also bared a row of sharp, pointy teeth.
“You are one ugly mudder,” she said, trying to yank her hand from his grasp but unable to.
“And you’ll look as awful as me one day, magician,” he said, forcing her to twirl around like he was leading her on the dance floor.
If she was going to fight him, she’d use her other hand to pull Bellator right then, but that wasn’t the plan. She kind of doubted it would work anyway. Something told her that Sabatore knew she was carrying a weapon, and she wouldn’t draw it from its sheath before he knocked it from her hands.
Sabatore yanked Liv into him, making it impossible to ignore the rancid smell radiating off him. She was forced to lay a hand to his chest to try to stop the momentum. His hot breath drifted down on her cheeks, nearly making her vomit.
“I’m going to enjoy this more than usual,” he said with a growl, a morbid smile on his face.
Liv pretended to resist. “Let me go.”
His laugh sounded like gravel underfoot. “Oh, no. You’re a noble magician. I’d love nothing more than ridding this Earth of you.”
Liv tried to push him back and he simply tightened his grip on her, seemingly amused by her attempts.
“Pucker up, love,” he said, pulling her close, his mouth inches from her neck as he leaned down to her.
Liv pressed her eyes closed, praying that Stefan would come through. Hoping her faith in him hadn’t been misplaced.
> Sabatore’s mouth came unhinged, his razor-sharp teeth a stark contrast against his blood-red skin. He lowered his head farther, about to deliver what he’d promised and done to so many magicians and elves—turning magic into pure evil, blotting it from this Earth. Turning magical creatures into the destruction of mankind.
The monster purred, as if this was an act that brought him ultimate satisfaction. Liv’s pulse quickened, and she held her breath. Tensed all over, and uttered a last-minute prayer—her final wish: Please don’t let me die. I can’t abandon Sophia. I can’t let Clark down. Familia est sempiternum.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Chapter Seventeen
Liv’s feet came off the ground. She thought that Sabatore had picked her up, but then he let out a guttural scream. Craning her neck, she realized something had lifted him too.
He released her, dropping her to the brick pavement rather ungracefully. She turned over at once and started crab-walking backward on her hands and feet. What she saw next almost didn’t register at first.
Stefan picked Sabatore up by the back of his coat and launched him into the air, throwing him halfway across the courtyard.
The man she’d come to know the last few weeks as a friend had a red face, and his blue eyes had gone dark. She blinked, hoping that what she thought she was seeing was wrong. For the first time ever, he looked more like a demon than himself, and the growl that escaped his mouth sounded exactly like that of a demon on a rampage.
Sabatore jumped to his feet, letting out a similar-sounding growl. The two faced off, staring at each other with a heat that spoke of their personal vendetta.
Liv backed up, her hand on Bellator. She’d been preparing herself mentally to take Stefan down if the need should arise, but she hadn’t considered that she might have to defeat him and Sabatore on the same day. However, it appeared that Stefan was close to turning. How much longer did he have?
His eyes darted to her with a frustrated growl. He didn’t look at her as he had before. His gaze was murderous now. Hungry.
“Stefan?” she asked in a whisper. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I will be. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
Don’t worry? She was trapped in a courtyard with a demon and soon-to-be demon. Worry was all she could do.
Stefan’s heated gaze turned back on the demon on the other side of the courtyard, who was starting to prowl back and forth, his long coat billowing around him.
“So one of my children has found me,” Sabatore began. “And right before he turns, too. You think you have time, but if your strength and speed have increased, it’s too late.”
Stefan ground his teeth together, his eyes narrowing to slits. “I have time.”
Sabatore laughed, his voice echoing around the courtyard and disrupting a flock of birds high on the roof of the two-story home beside them. “You have less time than you think. You’ll turn, and then you’ll kill your first magician as a demon, keeping this beautiful cycle going.” He indicated Liv, who had her hand around Bellator’s hilt. She couldn’t allow Stefan to turn. More than anything, she wanted to take Sabatore out right then, ending this.
However, she reminded herself that this wasn’t her fight. This was Stefan’s kill.
Although she was battling internally, she couldn’t argue that Stefan looked close to his end. Before what could have been seen as a flush of his skin was definitely the mark of demonism. His face was unnaturally red, and his eyes were almost black. His speed was incredible as he sprinted across the courtyard, picking Sabatore up by the collar and holding him high above his head.
“I’m in control,” Stefan stated. “ And I’m not giving in to the demon.”
Sabatore laughed again. “You can’t keep it at bay forever. You’ve already turned. You have the demon’s powers, and soon the rest of you will join it. That’s the only way to end the burning inferno inside you.”
“I won’t!” Stefan yelled, throwing Sabatore across the courtyard into the brick wall. It cracked, showering broken pieces down on him.
The demon pushed up, shaking his head with a cold chuckle.
“I like your spirit,” Sabatore remarked. “I was right to turn you. You’ll make a fine demon.”
“That will never happen,” Stefan replied, charging Sabatore and thrusting his fist at his head. The demon caught it, spinning his fist around and knocking Stefan to the pavement, his arm curved unnaturally behind his back as the demon took the advantage.
Standing over him, Sabatore grimaced. “In all my years, none of my children have ever tracked me down. This is a first. You are a worthy opponent, but your day is done. It’s time to turn.”
“No!” Stefan said, his face marked by pain as Sabatore continued to twist his arm until he dislocated his shoulder.
“Do as I say and it will be better,” Sabatore commanded. “The pain will be gone. Your days will be easy. All you have to do is give in.”
Stefan jerked away, being released. “No. You’re a monster. I’m not you. I never will be.”
Liv watched from the sidelines, unsure if they knew she was still there. She couldn’t leave, and yet intervening felt wrong since Stefan still seemed to be in control. But for how long?
“I’m the only thing pure in this world,” Sabatore said, striding over to Stefan, who was trying to work his shoulder back into place as painful screams ripped from his mouth. “Demons are the only creatures that make sense. Our purpose is clear. We are not corrupted by love or blasphemy. By rejection or fear. We give that which we are. We are the essence of this world. Evil is the only way. All good is actually evil. Very soon you’ll see that.”
With a crack, Stefan yanked his shoulder back into place, rolling it out, along with his neck. “I am Stefan Ludwig. I’m a demon hunter. A magician. A Warrior. My job is to rid the world of evil, and that starts with you.”
He threw his fist at Sabatore and this time it connected, knocking him back against the same brick wall, making more of it crumble.
The demon laughed as he pushed up, undeterred. “You know nothing of this world.”
In a movement that Liv’s eyes didn’t register completely, the demon sprang to his feet, staying low, his leg coming around and knocking Stefan to the ground. He stomped on his stomach, making him convulse. An anguished moan fell from his mouth.
“Oh, yes. It won’t be long,” Sabatore said. “You’ll join me soon. And before then, I’ll ensure that your magician friend is ready for you. She’ll be your first, and that’s always the best.”
With Stefan still in pain, Sabatore sped over to Liv, arriving in front of her faster than she would have anticipated.
“You were going to be mine,” he said, roughly pushing her hair out of her face. “But this will be better.”
She felt Bellator pulse in her hand. It knew what needed to be done. It was begging her to do it. However, her instinct still told her that this had to be Stefan’s kill. She believed in him.
Stefan ran at the demon, jumping and flying through the air. Landing straight behind Sabatore, he yanked him off of Liv, throwing him once more through the air.
The demon skidded across the bricks, slamming into a wrought iron patio chair and table. Stefan sprang into the air again, landing beside Sabatore. He picked the chair up and slammed it across his back as he tried to get up. The demon crumpled to the ground. Stefan was about to swing the chair again when Sabatore grabbed his leg, yanking it out from under him. Stefan fell, landing beside him. The demon crawled on top of him, about to throw a punch, when Stefan took his momentum, rolling over and springing up.
The two moved so quickly that Liv had trouble telling exactly what they were doing to each other. She saw several punches exchanged, and black blood sprinkled the pavement. She didn’t know if now was the time that she should intervene. Liv wanted to do something but she didn’t know how to help Stefan without potentially harming him. What she did know was that this fight would be over soon, and the danger
would only be beginning for her. Whether it was Stefan or Sabatore who won, she’d have a demon to deal with.
Sabatore had risen to his feet, hauling Stefan up with him. As if returning the favor from before, he threw him at the crumbling brick wall. Stefan nearly went through it. He landed on the ground in a crumpled heap.
Oh, this isn’t good, Liv thought, pulling Bellator out.
Standing over Stefan, Sabatore spat on him before yanking the Warrior’s sword from its sheath and throwing it across the courtyard.
“You’re ungrateful,” Sabatore said in a coarse whisper. “I saved you, and this is how you thank me? I will make you see the error of your ways.” He picked Stefan up by the neck, hauling him to his feet. “You’ll start by kissing the magician. Then you’ll know I was right and will turn completely.”
Stefan tried to claw Sabatore, but his attempts did not make contact with the demon, although they made him laugh.
Liv tensed when Sabatore dragged Stefan over to her, blood trickling from his nose and mouth.
“Do it or I will,” Sabatore ordered.
Stefan jerked his head back and forth. For as much as he looked like a demon now, he was still him. Liv knew it.
Taking his hands off Stefan, Sabatore pushed him in her direction.
“If I do it, I’ll kill her,” Sabatore said. “You can’t win against me. Kiss her, and it will be done.”
Stefan’s lips were quivering as he stumbled in Liv’s direction. He was now only three feet away.
She prepared to swing Bellator, but part of her knew she wouldn’t be fast enough, not to defeat Stefan nor Sabatore. They were too strong, like super-demons. Stefan must have inherited it from Sabatore. And when he turned, he’d be even stronger. Even worse.
“I’m sorry,” Stefan said, regret in his eyes. Liv made an attempt, holding Bellator firmly. In a blur, Stefan blocked her, knocking the sword out of her hands, and grabbing it by the hilt with his free hand.
Liv tensed and backed up as he swung the sword around and lopped off Sabatore’s head. It flew several feet, rolling until he was staring at them with his black eyes.