Inferno stomps out the same door hole, her right fist raised high. Once more, I wait until she’s inches from my face before I move.
Oops.
As Inferno closes in, I try leaping out of the way. Trouble is, I forgot how sticky the ground is out here. My boots get caught in the gunk. I make it part-way out of the path of her strike.
Inferno misses my face, but her fist still rakes across my shoulder. Pain bursts down my arm.
With a gasp, I realize that Inferno’s hit one, hurts like Hell and two, cut right through my Scala armor. It’s not like I’ve done extensive tests to see what my magical robes can withstand, but I do wear these things a ton, even in battle. My robes have never so much as frayed before. Now my right shoulder looks like raw meat. Blood seeps across my chest and down my arm.
Did I mention how it hurts? It’s like my entire right side of my body is on fire.
Behind me, my tail struggles to hold up Inferno’s sword. Giving up, my tail tosses the weapon onto the nearby mud. From the corner of my eye, I notice the sword has changed from molten red to I have no idea what that substance is. The sword isn’t metal, that’s for sure. It’s odd, but I’m not taking my focus off Inferno in order to get a closer look.
Inferno’s fists are still raised high, but her gaze flickers between my mashed-up shoulder and the sword my tail tossed away. The question is plain on her face. Which do I go after?
Tough call, I guess.
Inferno goes for the sword. She tries to speed past me, her arms lifted in a defensive posture. Too bad she’s wearing a ton of armor and the ground here is total mush. Her rush for the sword becomes a slow march across a muddy field.
My turn.
I race behind her. This time, I use the gucky ground to my advantage. At the last moment, I drop to my knees, using my momentum to slide right past Inferno. As I glide by her, my tail loops around Inferno’s ankle. After that, I stand up and yank. Inferno topples onto her back. All around her, the mud sizzles from her lava body.
I’d do a happy dance of celebration, but Inferno now grips her sword once more. Although she’s on her back, that doesn’t mean Inferno can’t hurt yours truly. Her blade glows molten red as it swoops toward my legs. Moving quickly, I remove my own baculum from their holster, ignite them into a long sword, and meet Inferno’s strike. The two weapons spark as they collide. Turns out, my Scala armor may not stop Inferno, but angel fire works just fine.
Now that I have the offensive, I won’t get it go.
“This is for Walker!” My tail spears straight through Inferno’s right shoulder.
Inferno glances at the wound and laughs. I even can see how her tongue is molten as well as her teeth.
My blood chills. Laughing at a skewered shoulder? Not what I expected.
Inferno stands, a movement that forces my tail to rake down her torso. Huh. There are supposed to be a bunch of vital organs in that torso area, so you’d think Inferno would stop laughing at this point.
She doesn’t.
That’s when I realize the truth. Inferno is unlike any enemy I’ve fought before. I’m in deep trouble.
I try pulling my tail from Inferno’s chest. It wobbles a little, but doesn’t break free. Whatever Inferno’s made of, that’s some sticky stuff.
Inferno grabs the end of my tail and yanks. Now it’s my turn to tumble onto my back. Splat! I careen onto the mud. Inferno raises her armored boot and tramps on my arm. My Scala robes sizzle. Every bone in that limb explodes with pain.
“You should have promised to abandon Walker,” says Inferno. With that, she stomps on my chest with her other boot. Agony radiates across my rib cage.
Turns out, it’s hard to talk when someone is crushing your chest. “Never.” Closing my eyes, I call out to my igni.
* * *
Little ones! Could use your help here!
* * *
No voices fill my mind, though. Hells Bells. Back when I was working over the Enmity brothers, my igni were all quick replies and supernatural light shows. And now that I’m being crushed by a psycho lava angel?
Nothing.
People talk about having their lives flash before their eyes, but it rarely happens to me. Heaven knows, I’ve been in my share of near-death experiences. This time is different. I picture Lincoln’s mismatched eyes as he leans in for our first kiss. Maxon’s infectious laughter as I tickle his plump little toes. And my parents slow dancing at my wedding reception. I’ve had an action-packed life, even if it ends up being short. Maybe now is my time.
Then again, maybe fuck that idea.
If I’m going to die, it won’t be from a random lava angel.
My thoughts race through various attack scenarios. Somehow my tail is still stuck in this chick’s rib cage.
Fine. I can work with that.
Closing my eyes, I summon my Scala robes to create cords between my torso and tail. Sure, I may not be strong enough to pull Inferno down, but in a pinch, my Scala robes can magically haul stuff. Instantly, thousands of white fibers reach up from my torso and loop around my tail. I order the threads to combine into thicker, muscle-strong ropes.
It’s an effort to speak a single word. “Push!”
Both the ropes and my tail work to shove Inferno over. For a moment, her features fall slack with shock. Then Inferno tumbles onto her side. Once again, the mud hisses from her lava-ness.
I’m under no illusions here. Inferno won’t stay down for long, so I summon my white Scala ropes to yank my tail free. Leveraging more of my supernatural power, they do just that. Next step in my battle plan: get away from Inferno.
Shifting, I try to stand. Pain spikes through my chest. It’s all I can do to hobble onto my knees. With every inhale, my lungs gurgle. Not good for my side.
Before me, Inferno stands with ease.
“Walker is nothing,” she says in a low voice. “Renounce him.” Once again, she raises her sword, ready to strike.
“Never.”
I pull on my powers of demonic wrath. Every inch of my body burns with agony. Even so, I must try and lunge out from under her slice.
Emphasis on the word try.
Inferno’s sword swings toward me. I don’t lunge so much as fall onto my back. It isn’t far away enough; Inferno’s long sword can still reach me. Once more, the blade seems to move in slow motion. Blood chills in my veins.
I wince, preparing for the slice.
It doesn’t happen.
Looking up, I see that a rope made of angel fire now loops around Inferno’s wrist, holding back her assault. She roars with anger. “What is this?”
“Back off my wife,” says a deadly voice.
At this point, I’m stuck in the mud with a broken arm, mushed-up rib cage, and a huge smile on my face.
Lincoln is here. And he’s in full body armor. That’s love.
I try to follow every step of the battle between Lincoln and Inferno. After all, I’m pretty sure this won’t be the last time I encounter this lava angel. But paying attention isn’t easy when you’re thinking one thing over and over.
Ow, ow, ow.
Lincoln changes his baculum from a rope into a short sword. With a series of expert lunges, my guy gets few good swipes in on Inferno. As in, his blade goes straight through her.
For a moment, Inferno stands. Confusion radiates in her molten eyes. After that, Inferno topples over into two pieces.
That’s what you call dead, right there.
Inferno may be down, but my guy keeps on hacking. I’ve never seen his face more intense or enraged. It’s a little flattering, really.
“Hey!” I cry. “I think you…” pant pant “…got her.”
After extinguishing his baculum, Lincoln races over to my side. He scans me with an expert eye. “Are you all right?”
“No,” I say with my gurgly voice. “Lucas.”
There’s no need for me to say more. Lincoln knows precisely what I mean. I want to be healed by Lucas, the Earl of Striga. That will keep a
low profile on my injuries. If word gets out that I’m hurt, my followers would have a psychic meltdown. Good Morning Purgatory would cover it non-stop for weeks.
“Understood,” says Lincoln. His voice is all things soothing and strong.
I force out two more words. ”Walker … Danger.”
When it comes to my honorary older brother, there’s so much to tell Lincoln and not enough breath in my injured lungs. Walker is my husband’s best friend. Inferno promised to get him next. I simply must tell my guy what’s happening.
“Someone’s out to get Walker?”
“Yes.” I try to force out more words, but I’m interrupted.
Inferno’s body changes.
All thoughts of Walker evaporate as chunks of Inferno magically slide right back together, in the exact same way Lincoln cut her apart. Within seconds, she’s reformed into a fully functioning Inferno.
That’s unexpected.
I force out more words. “See that?”
Lincoln grips his baculum more tightly. “I do.”
For a long moment, Inferno stands tall, staring right at me and Lincoln. Her magma sword gleams in her hand. My body freezes with a combination of concern and pain. If you can’t slice up a lava angel, how do you kill it?
Inferno doesn’t return for another attack however. Instead, she spreads her magma-bright wings and takes off into the sky. Within seconds, Inferno fades from view. More unexpected stuff. For a molten lava angel in heavy armor, she can sure haul ass in flight.
Lincoln resets his baculum into their holster and pulls me into his arms. That hurts like anything, so I suck in another agonized breath.
“I can help with the pain,” says Lincoln. “And I’ll get a search party going for Walker.”
My guy reaches into a pocket on his body armor, pulling out what looks like a pen. Since the thing is purple, I know what it actually is: a magical item from the House of Striga—those thrax magically equip thrax for demon patrol. Mostly, Striga charms are enchanted to look like boring stuff so humans won’t suspect anything. Normally, I don’t toy around with healing magic because I rarely get a scratch. But now? Every nerve ending I’ve got is hurting.
That pen looks mighty nice.
Lincoln sets the tip against my neck. “You’ll like the journey to Lucas better if you’re unconscious.”
I totally agree.
The pen pinches slightly against my skin. After that, everything goes blissfully dark.
Chapter 9
When I awaken, my head feels super-fuzzy. Even though my mind isn’t clear, I can tell one thing.
I’m in the infamous Boudoir of Striga and no, I am not kidding.
Basically, this is a cavernous bedroom that an earlier Earl of Striga used for dalliances with his many mistresses. The chamber is all purple velvet everything—curtains, couches, and even tables—with the main attraction being a huge round bed, which is what I’m reclining on right now. Oh, and there’s a fake closet across the room, which holds an unofficial Pulpitum platform. That’s how Lincoln got us here from the grain bin.
Lincoln sits beside me on the mattress. Leaning over, he gently brushes a few strands of hair from my cheek. His skin is warm and firm, sending a shiver through my stomach. His mismatched eyes fill with light and love. “Hello, Myla.”
I want to give him a proper greeting in return, but something else tumbles from my mouth. “My head’s all weird.”
“It’s a side affect of the healing spells. You’ll get clearer soon.” Lincoln leans in to kiss my forehead. “How are you feeling?”
I pull in a few breaths. No gurgling noise. No hurt, either. My Scala robes look perfect, too. I slip my hand under the enchanted fabric to test out my shoulder. My skin feels totally smooth—it’s like Inferno never tenderized it. My wristwatch and arm seem fine as well, even though Inferno stomped on them both. It’s not a lock that I’m totally healed, but things are looking up.
“Much better,” I reply. “How long was I out?”
“Not too long. It isn’t even noon yet.”
“Wow. Lucas is good.”
“He’s become an expert over the years.”
Some tumblers inside my brain start spinning again. They say the same thing, over and over.
Walker. Inferno. Walker. Inferno.
I sit upright. Every nerve ending in my body is suddenly alert. “Did you find Walker? Inferno said she was going to kidnap and hurt him.”
“I sent out search parties for him. No one has seen Walker. If anything, Walker left word that he’s leaves today on an extended vacation. What did he tell you? Are you supposed to see him again soon?”
“No.” I hug my elbows. “He told me the opposite, actually. Walker told me he would go away forever.” More of my foggy thoughts come into focus. “That’s why he gave me this watch.” I pull back the sleeve on my Scala robes and scan the watch face.
11:07 am.
I exhale. “Walker is safe. As long as the watch only shows the time, Walker is fine.”
Lincoln pulls on the neckline of his body armor. “I did uncover other information about Walker.”
That sinking feeling returns to my bones. “What is it?”
“Walker has spent the last week sneaking in and out of Antrum. He’s been visiting one of the lesser houses.”
My eyes widen. “Let me guess. Does that house have a shield with three black feathers?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“The crest appeared on Walker’s watch.” I tap my forehead as I try to remember the house’s name. “Victoriana, that’s it.” I frown. “They’re rather reclusive, aren’t they?”
“Extremely. According to Lucas, the house has unique and magical ties to the Dark Lands. Some Victoriana gain magical abilities, but only when they set foot on certain secret stretches of ghoul homeland. Care to guess what’s there?”
A prickle of recognition moves up my neck. “Lucifer’s prison. It’s in the Dark Lands.”
Lincoln nods. “I’ve asked Lucas to find Cissy and meet us at your parent’s place. There are so many pieces at work here. Camilla may know about the Viper. Xavier may know about Lucifer. You spoke to Walker. Everyone has a piece of the story.”
“Agreed. Everyone must be in the same place so we can figure out a plan. That said, I can’t wait. I have to tell you what happened with Walker and the worm farm.”
Lincoln’s gaze turns intense once more. “Go on.”
“The guard who was poisoned by the Viper? Turns out, Walker says that was his brother Drayden.”
Lincoln pales. “But Drayden’s dead.”
“No, Drayden has been alive all this time and guarding Lucifer. In less than twenty four hours, Drayden dies from the Viper’s poison. Walker has a plan to cure his brother. Once Drayden’s safe, Walker has to go into hiding for some reason.”
“That’s rather vague.”
“You know Walker. Mister Secretive. If all goes well with Walker’s plan, then this watch only tells the time. But if the rescue goes poorly, then this device shows a countdown.”
“And secrets did Inferno share with you?”
I give Lincoln the side eye. “Who says Inferno spilled her guts?”
“Didn’t she? I know your powers of persuasion.”
“Okay, she totally blabbed. Turns out, the Viper used Lucifer’s Gauntlets to raise Inferno from the dead. I’m not sure how she became molten, though. But who knows how the gauntlets really work?”
“True.” Lincoln rubs his chin for a long moment, his eyes lost in thought. “We should head over to your parents. Are you feeling well enough to travel? The Pulpitum is behind the closet.”
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“I’ll check if it’s ready.” Lincoln rises and steps towards the door.
Now, I must be 100% recovered because my attention is now locked on one fact: my husband is ripped. His black body armor shifts with all his muscly-muscles as he steps away. I have two demonic powers, lust and wrath. Right now, m
y inner lust demon is waking up to say hey there!
Lincoln pulls open the closet door (which is covered in more purple velvet, no less) and glances over his shoulder. “My eyes,” he says with a wink. “Are up here.”
“Oops?”
He crooks his finger at me. “Your Pulpitum is ready, Your Highness.”
“Looking forward to it.” Pulpitum travel is fun. I step across the room and meet Lincoln at the door.
He gestures to the closet interior. “After you.”
I move to step inside, then pause. Somehow, leaving for my parents is like admitting this is really happening.
Walker is gone.
Moving closer, Lincoln gently sets his knuckle beneath my chin. Little by little, he guides my gaze to meet his. “Walker will be fine, Myla.”
There’s a second that lasts an eternity where our gazes lock. Energy zings between us. A simple thought echoes through my soul. Lincoln is all things fierce and loving. With him at my side, anything’s possible.
Straightening my shoulders, I take Lincoln’s hand. “Let’s do this.”
Lincoln brushes a gentle kiss across my lips. “Yes.”
And that’s all he needs to say, really. A thousand promises are layered into that simple word. Yes. It’s an agreement to find Walker and end whatever is causing our dear friend pain.
With that, Lincoln and I stride into the Pulpitum closet and the next phase of our search for Walker.
We simply must succeed.
Chapter 10
Lincoln and I squeeze inside the Pulpitum. The Boudoir of Striga is an unofficial transfer station, so this Pulpitum is a small circular disc set into the floor of an equally tiny closet.
Did I mention everything in here’s still covered in velvet? It is.
Note to self: research Lucas’s grandfather sometime. There’s a story there.
After we step onto the disc, Lincoln sets his hands on my waist; I loop my arms around his neck. Our bodies meet in a sweet hug. Not only is it safer to travel this way, it’s also recovery therapy. In any case, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
The Dark Lands Page 5