Hex Appeal

by P. N. Elrod

  He somersaulted, carving the air a new one with his sword at least six times on the way around. “You know I don’t drink.”

  I muttered a charm, and my twin blades dripped green poison. I spun them, loosening my wrists in readiness. “All the more for me.”

  And with a duet of blood-rotting yells, we plunged into the fight.

  * * *

  It seemed like a hundred hours later when we finally staggered over the tower’s dark threshold and dragged the spiked-iron door shut.

  The bar thunked into place. Angry mutants hammered and hurled curses, their slack flesh slapping on the metal. The hinges juddered, but it held.

  I collapsed against it, breathing hard. Blood stuck my fingers together, and I unwrapped them from my knife handles with a wince. Beside me, Ethan coughed and spat red phlegm, his face splashed with hellish gore. His bubble had helped us, and we’d fought well together, but we’d taken serious damage. My head ached from blows, and my skin was ripped raw in a dozen places. I was covered in claw marks and cuts, and dripping with stinking black blood and bits of flesh. I’d nearly lost a finger. My legs hurt. My lungs hurt. Hell, my hair hurt.

  Ethan wiped his nose with his sword hand, smearing blood. He was fitter than I was, but still his breath hitched. It had taken a lot out of him to keep those spells engaged, and once he’d let them slip, weariness lined his face. “Well, here we are, I guess. You okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Never been better.”

  I surveyed the room. Black and empty, caked with dust. A fire pit in the center threw leaping shadows on the walls. It stank of salt and blood. A broken iron staircase spiraled upwards, and hisses and moans crept from upstairs. No other way out. I craned my neck. Nothing up there but darkness. “You think Kane’s here?”

  “If he were, we’d be dead already.”

  “Good point. How long you think we’ve got before the helljuice wears off?”

  “Not long.” He breathed, in and out, centering his energy or opening his aura or whatever, and when he opened his eyes, they shone bright, refreshed. “Let’s get on with it.”

  His equivalent of a stiff drink. I sure could have used one. Or even just a rest. But no time. I sighed and wiped sticky mutant blood from my knives onto my pants. “Old guys go first?”

  Ethan snickered and crept onto the staircase, and as I followed, my aching muscles eased a little. It was good to hear him laugh. Good to hear any living human sound.

  The staircase turned, and we climbed, and climbed, the steps corroded and sometimes crumbling. Firelight leaked in through cracks in the walls, like some gruesome hellpit burned outside, and screams and moans twisted in the air like ghosts.

  I shuddered. My hex pendant burned, but it had been screaming at me nonstop for the last few hours, and it meant nothing new. My shoulder prickled, an evil, hot breath, and I whirled, but there was no one.

  I sucked in a breath, trying to slow my racing pulse. “Why is there no one here?”

  “Because it’s a trap?”

  “Wow, that’s really comforting.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I tried to push ahead of him, to have him behind me, but he held me back with a rigid arm.

  “Wh—ugh!” I stumbled back, twisting my ankle on the step, and, at our feet, a massive chunk of rotted iron shuddered and fell. Four or five spiral steps tumbled away into the dark, and though I waited several seconds, holding my breath, I didn’t hear them land.

  Ethan sprang up over the gap, landed lightly on the next unbroken step and held out his hand for me. Yeah, right. Impeccable balance, light step, wiry strength. Stuff I didn’t have.

  I sucked in a breath and jumped.

  Evil laughter echoed, and thick darkness wrapped itself around my legs and pulled.

  I yelled and flung out a desperate magical web, but it was too far. My guts hollowed. Sparks rained, hissing, and I fell.

  But Ethan flashed out his hand, and a stinging whip of light cracked like electric current. My sparks coalesced in harmony, a glittering green cascade, and the whip lashed itself around my waist and yanked me upwards.

  Ethan caught me against his chest, and the magic light dissolved. I scrabbled with terrified feet for a hold, and he steadied me. “Got you. You okay?”

  I caught my breath, reeling. He felt warm and safe, his arms possessive, holding on for a bit too long. Almost like he gave a damn.

  I pushed away, awkward, my heart still racing from the fright. “Yeah. Thanks. What was that thing you just did?”

  “No idea. Never did it before.”

  “Oh, so who’s the puzzle now?” I scoffed, trying to regain my ease.

  He glanced away, avoiding me. “Must be your lucky day. C’mon.”

  We kept climbing and reached a smoky landing that was riddled with jagged holes. Massive iron urns lined the walls, and inside them, things hammered and yelled for help, desperate to escape.

  My stomach churned. I coughed in the acrid smoke. “Tell me those aren’t souls in there.”

  Ethan’s face was pale, and he didn’t answer.

  I gripped his shoulder. Killing these things was one thing. Leaving them like this … “We have to let them out! Jesus, we can’t just—”

  “This is hell, Lena.” He touched my hand, and his compassion sizzled on my skin, magnetic. “Where can they go?”

  I shrugged, angry. I wasn’t used to feeling helpless. What was the point of all this power if people still suffered and died? The sooner I found the amulet and got out of this place, the better.

  He brushed my cheek with his thumb, a tiny caress, then he climbed on.

  The staircase spiraled more tightly, the walls closing in. Sparks leapt from the cracks and stung my face. Landing after landing, narrower and darker, the air howling with ghostly pain and fear that iced my bones. Shadows jumped and thrashed, stretching like torture victims trying to escape. Dark things I couldn’t see touched me, caressed me, slid hot wet lips over my skin until it crawled. I tore at my hair, batted at my face, careless of my sharp blades. “Ethan—”

  “It’s okay.” His voice strained tight like wire. Around him, angry magic sparked, and the wraithlike things gnashed and hissed and shied away.

  At last, we reached another landing, and the staircase ended. Above, the ceiling tapered to a jagged hole, and hell’s red sky glared through, casting bloody shadows. On the wall, a rusted mirror warped our reflection, and in the shaft of light lay a dusty black metal box with a spiked padlock.

  We halted, and I caught my breath, glad of the light even though it scorched my face with fresh heat. “Is that a strongbox?”

  Ethan nodded. “I’d say so.”

  I frowned. “Did that seem too easy to you?”

  “We’re not finished yet.” He inhaled, scenting for trouble, and crept forward.

  I hesitated. Lightning flashed, the thunder shaking the walls, and a fine golden glint at thigh level caught my eye.

  My heart skipped, and I grabbed Ethan’s arm and yanked him back.

  He lurched, and recovered his balance with a little jump. “What?”

  I pointed. Smoke particles drifted in the light, around a hair-thin golden wire stretching across the floor. Together, we craned our necks upwards. Above, wicked curved blades glinted, waiting to slice us into salami.

  Ethan grimaced. “You’re kidding. Trip wire?”

  “Crude but effective. Our demon pals have a sense of humor.”

  “Terrific. Watch out for banana peel and itching powder.” He hopped over the wire, sword poised, and I followed.

  The strongbox just sat there, black and boring. I eyed it suspiciously. Couldn’t be this easy. Not like a job topside, where you just break in, take stuff, and run away. Surely?

  Ethan lifted two fingers, and a soft breeze whistled, blowing away the smoke. Tiny sparks crawled over the box, testing, seeping into the crack between body and lid. He shrugged, and the sparks extinguished. “I get nothing.”

&n
bsp; “What? No alarms? No threats of imminent evisceration?”

  “Not a whisper.”

  “Maybe what’s inside is the kicker.”

  “You think? How are you with locks?”

  I whipped a shard of glowing pink fairyglass from my corset—who says you can’t use an ingredient for more than one spell?—and waved it at him. “Watch me and weep.”

  I bent closer to the barbed padlock, and now that prehistoric coward inside me was really getting her voice on. Demon box! Eek! Run! she squealed, and, for a moment, I hesitated.

  Stealing a cursed amulet from a demon lord. Not one of my safer ideas.

  I glanced at Ethan, who crouched, alert, surveying the creeping darkness for threats, blood still trickling from his nose. I still didn’t get what was in this for him. Was this the part where he turned me over to Kane? Pity. I’d liked having him around. And working for a demon sorta … dirtied him. Ethan wasn’t like me, doing anything for a living. He had standards, at least I’d thought so.

  But Phoebus’s whisper from the nightclub caressed my memory, tempting me reckless. One favor, Lena Falco. No catch. Whatever you desire.

  This was my big prize. Whatever the risks, it was worth it.

  I gripped the glass between thumb and finger and shoved it in the padlock.

  The sharp wingshard sliced my skin. Blood seeped, and pink fairy glitter puffed, intoxicating, lulling the lock’s tumblers into submission. I rooted around a bit, feeling for the springs. Click, one. The spikes on the lock jabbed into my palm. Click, two. Clickety click, three. And … clunk. Open.

  Thunder rolled, threatening. Carefully, I eased the padlock from its socket on the strongbox, and laid it on the floor.

  The box just hunkered there, menacing.

  I glanced up, and Ethan shrugged. “Now or never.”

  I poked the lid experimentally. It didn’t poke back, and I gritted my teeth against disaster and levered it up.

  The hinges creaked, and it opened. Silence. Together, we peered inside.

  Just a pile of ashes. And atop it, a dusty red gemstone the size of an egg.

  A deep, velvety chuckle echoed in my ears. I squirmed, my belly warming. Were those flames, flickering deep inside the stone?

  Something inside it that belongs to me, Phoebus had said. Maybe he meant something alive.

  Whatever. I reached for it, but Ethan caught my wrist. “Let me,” he said, and he darted forward and wrapped his fingers around the amulet.

  And the world burst into flame.

  My body slammed backwards, and my head hit the wall with a sick crunch. Heat scorched my lungs, sizzling my mouth dry. I shook my head, clearing my blurred vision in time to see Ethan get hurled across the burning room by some invisible force. The trip wire sprang, and huge blades scythed. But he’d already hurtled past and smashed into the wall, falling in a twisted heap. His sword clattered from his hand and spun away, which was just as well, because if he hadn’t dropped it, he’d have sliced himself in half as he fell.

  Flames licked up the rusted walls, ringing the room in glare. The gemstone skittered onto the floor, attached to a spiked-iron chain. Light pierced the stone, and against the wall sprang a dark, hulking shadow. A slavering beast in silhouette, four twisted legs, spiked tail, razor-sharp fins along its spine.

  I scrambled away in fright, searching for the monster. It was nowhere in sight. Only the shadow, the evil black projection of whatever lived inside that amulet.

  Hollow female laughter boomed, and the shadow-demon swelled in triumph. “Give up, puny human. You’re too decent, and your little slut is too weak. You can’t control me.”

  I coughed, spitting dry with dread and black humor. Puny human? Seriously. Next it’ll say, Soon I will be invincible!

  But Ethan lay gasping, bleeding, fighting to rise, and it speared hot anger into my belly. He might be immortal, but he wasn’t indestructible. And damn right he was decent. He’d grabbed the amulet to protect me. Screw me if I’d let this demon cow insult him.

  I hurled twin knives at the shadow, and they clanged harmlessly off the wall and arced back to me. “Bite me, hellbitch. We’ll see who’s weak once I’ve hauled your crooked ass back to your boss.”

  The shadow whiplashed and snapped crocodile jaws at me. I dodged, scrambling to my feet. Ethan flung out his arm, sparks flashing, and his sword erupted in angry green flame and dragged itself across the floor toward his fingers.

  But the shadow-demon kicked it away—no fair, a kicking shadow, it’s just a shape on the wall, right? Wrong—and stomped a fat clawed foot on Ethan’s forearm. Hard.

  Bones snapped, and my teeth grated. Jesus in a jam jar, that must have hurt. Ethan gave a strangled gasp, and the sword’s flames sputtered out.

  Furious, I hurled myself at the monster, but the shadow just darted out of the way, cackling like a wart-nosed witch. “Dance with me, while I suck out his tasty-sweet soul,” it sang. “You can’t stop me.” And it leapt on him and lunged with gnashing teeth for his throat.

  He kicked, and fought it off with sparking fists.

  My heart clenched. I sprinted for him, but the demon flung me away. Bad plan.

  I picked myself up, teeth rattling, and dived for the amulet instead.

  The spiked chain bloodied my palm. The pulsing red stone sizzled, and my skin melted, but I didn’t care. Don’t break it, Phoebus said.

  Well, screw him.

  I slammed the gemstone into the iron floor. It didn’t break. I tried smashing it with my knife hilt. The demon just laughed at me. I jumped up and crushed it under my bootheel. The fucking thing wouldn’t break. I flung my poison hex at it, adding some stolen sunlight for good measure, but it just bubbled and seared the toxic goo to steam.

  I yelled in frustration, and my hex pendant burst into furious red flame.

  My hair smoked, the acrid stink filling my nostrils. And I knew what I had to do.

  I grabbed the bloody chain, careless of the ripping spikes, and dragged it over my head.

  The red gemstone clunked against my hex pendant. I grabbed both and squeezed, and with a stinking flash of light, they melted together.

  Electricity jolted my bones. My body jerked, muscles spasming. Current arced from my fingertips, piercing the shadow-demon like lightning.

  My veins burned, light and liquid fire, power juddering through me. My thoughts danced. My reflexes glittered. My senses erupted, every scent and breath and whisper swelling large. I inhaled, and thunder answered, ozone tingling my nose. Blood rushed to my core, and my body moaned in pure pleasure.

  I flung my palm outwards and let rip with another lightning bolt. The demon howled and let Ethan go. I crooked a flame-wrapped finger and pinned the wriggling shadow to the wall. “Don’t move, bitch. You’re mine.”

  The demon cringed, and when I laughed, the ground shook.

  Magic. Power. What I’d longed for, all those years. My body springing alive, my senses reeling, my subconscious wishes a force of nature. Never mind that it came from a demon, a foul creature of hell that was surely eating me away from the inside. It was better than pizza. Better than sex.

  Better, too, than a lifetime meditating and doing yoga with Ethan. This was what I was for. What I was meant to be. And caught fast by my amulet—the demon trap that now hooked itself with eternally hungry claws to my heart—the monster thrashed and shuddered but couldn’t break free.

  Beyond the tower walls, the tortured screams of the damned played me a cruel symphony. Hellish light poured over my skin, tingling with a lover’s caress. The demon cried for mercy. I didn’t listen. I clenched my fist, and, slowly, my amulet sucked the shrieking shadow inside. It stretched and tore, desperate to escape. But there was no escape. For either of us. And with one final schllpp, the shadow was gone.

  And silence fell, but for Ethan’s rasping breath.

  The amulet burned heavy at my throat, whispering foul curses. I staggered, sick. Fever gripped me. Cramp stabbed my guts, and I fell to my knees
at Ethan’s side. He struggled to rise. Bile frothed in my throat, the rotten helljuice repeating on me at last, and I clutched Ethan’s bloodied hand like a lifeline and descended into blacker hell.

  * * *

  Pain thrust deep into my bones, and the nightmare vomited me up.

  Cool air, smooth fabric beneath my back. Someone had removed my jacket and boots, and I ached all over. I forced my eyes open, and my vision slowly cleared. White ceiling, a fan slowly circling. Gray quilt, books piled neatly, spotless carpet with not a mote of dust in sight. My knives shone clean on the bedside table. Sunlight streamed over me from the open window, and distant traffic hummed softly.

  Back on earth. Alive. But my skin felt numb, my senses bereft …

  I felt for my throat. Nothing.

  Alarm rocketed my pulse. The amulet. My hex pendant. Both gone.

  A cool hand stroked my hair, and I jumped. “Take it easy,” Ethan murmured, perched on the bed beside me. “Rough night.”

  I sat up, pushing his hand away. He’d showered, lemon and herbal soap, and his damp hair hung loose, unbloodstained. His bruised face was clean, his broken arm wrapped and splinted. He’d healed himself, or was well on the way. “How did we get here? I mean, this is your place, right? Last I remember, we were in hell.”

  “The helljuice wore off. I, uh…” He bit his lip, oddly childlike. “I carried you home. You were in pretty bad shape.”

  I scrambled to my feet. “That was not bad shape, Ethan. That was the best shape of my life. Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?”

  “Don’t play games!” My voice squeaked, frantic. It didn’t sound like me. But I’d lost my lifelong dream, and I wanted it back. “The amulet! Where is it?”

  He dug it out of his jeans pocket to show me. The red gem glinted, still welded to my hex pendant. I leapt for it, but he stuffed it away before I could reach. “It’s safe.”

  I stalked closer and leaned over him, threatening. “It’s mine, Ethan. Give it to me, or I’ll make you sorry!”