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White Hot Kiss

Page 35

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  “Jesus!” he shouted, slamming on the brakes.

  Something landed on the hood of Zayne’s Impala, shattering the windshield.

  At first I thought an overgrown gorilla had escaped the zoo and dropped out of one of the many nearby trees. Then I saw the serrated teeth and smelled the sulfur. I screamed—really screamed.

  It was a Hellion.

  A big, hairy, stinky Hellion that had just done some major damage to Zayne’s precious Impala. Matted, coarse hair covered its massive body. The enormous ram horns were what had shattered the windshield. But I had to be seeing things. Hellions weren’t allowed topside for obvious reasons.

  Zayne threw his arm out, pressing me back against the seat as the Hellion tried to reach inside the car. Its horns were getting caught on the metal and it seemed too stupid to figure out that it only needed to lower its head to fit through.

  The Hellion roared. It was like having a T. rex scream in your face.

  “Zayne!” I screeched as its thick front claws swiped inches from my face. “Zayne!”

  “Layla, I need you to listen to me.” He unbuckled his seat belt with one hand. “I need you to be calm.”

  The Hellion’s claws shredded Zayne’s forearm, drawing blood. Zayne didn’t even flinch.

  “Oh, my God,” I whispered, watching the rivulets of blood drip from his arm onto my lap. “Zayne, your arm.”

  “Layla, you’re going to have to make a run for it when I tell you to. Okay?” he said urgently. He reached for the button on my seat belt, releasing it. “When I tell you to run, you run and you don’t look back and you don’t try to fight. You cannot fight this thing.”

  I didn’t want to leave him, not with that thing on the attack. Hellions were notorious killers. They could rip Wardens limb from limb using their brute strength. “But I can hel—”

  Another wide sweep of clawed fingers almost got me. Zayne pulled me toward him and down, pressing my cheek against his thigh. “Keep down,” he ordered. “Just listen for my command. You know these woods. Get home and get my father. Don’t stop. That’s how you can help me.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. I nodded as best I could.

  Zayne’s hand slipped over my cheek and through my hair. I squeezed my eyes shut as the Hellion howled once more. Then Zayne was opening the door and I was falling into his seat. The car shook as the Hellion switched gears, spotting Zayne outside of the car.

  It laughed, a guttural sound.

  I knew I should have stayed fixed to the seat, but I sat up as the Hellion jumped from the car. I thought Zayne would hesitate, knowing that I was nearby. But he didn’t.

  Zayne shifted.

  The wings were the first to sprout, arcing high in the sky behind him and unfolding around his body. I could only see the side of his face, but that alone was dramatic enough. His skin turned a dark gray and his jaw widened as his nose flattened. Two horns grew, much like the Hellion’s horns, but Zayne’s were black as night and beautiful in an odd way. They curled back from his head, a fierce sight. As if to remind me that he was still Zayne, a breeze played with his blond hair, blowing it around the horns.

  I sucked in air, a gasp that shouldn’t have been heard, but Zayne turned a fraction of an inch toward me. Pain streaked across his face as our eyes locked for only a second. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the Hellion move.

  “Zayne!” I screamed, clutching the dashboard.

  He whipped back to the Hellion, catching the beefy hand before it could get a grip on him. Still holding the beast, Zayne leaned back and planted his foot in the Hellion’s midsection. The Hellion flew back several feet, grunting. It picked itself back up and rushed Zayne. They collided with enough force to shake ground and car.

  Bending at the knees, Zayne pushed himself into the air, bringing the Hellion with him. From the heights of the massive oaks, Zayne arced in the sky and shot back down to the ground. They slammed into the soil, their impact eating away several feet of road. Zayne stood, wrapping a muscled arm around the beast’s neck.

  “Go,” he yelled in a voice that was his, but wasn’t. “Run! Go!”

  I threw open the door, half falling out of it. Spinning around, I took Zayne in. There was something dark—blood?—leaking from his nose, a patchy area of skin on his cheek that seemed a darker gray. The Hellion struggled against his hold, jaws snapping.

  “Go,” Zayne ordered. “Please.”

  The Hellion latched on to Zayne’s arm. The last thing I saw was Zayne hurling through the air. With a scream stuck in my throat, I whirled around and ran. I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t running away and that I was going to get help, but each step that took me farther from Zayne felt like a punch in the chest. What if he got seriously hurt?

  What if he died?

  I couldn’t let myself think of that. I ran on, knowing the best thing I could do was warn the clan. Branches snapped at my face, pulled at my clothing. Several times I tripped over a rock or an upturned root, catching myself with my hands and then pushing back up. It was like a cheesy horror movie, except what was behind me wasn’t some dead dude in a hockey mask. I’d actually prefer that guy over the Hellion, machete, high body count and all.

  I kept going, throat seizing and muscles burning. Part of me realized I should have taken Zayne up on his offer to run with him. I was hideously out of shape.

  Hot wind kicked up, scattering fallen leaves in the air. They rained down, a chorus of dark reds and browns. A snapping sound cracked through the night, followed by another and another.

  I felt something whip through the air a second before it wrapped around my leg, dragging me down. I hit the hard soil elbows first. Wincing, I rolled onto my back. Thick tree roots climbed both my legs, squeezing until I was sure it would snap the bones in half. Frantic, I grabbed the end of a coarse root and started unwinding it with shaking hands. It yanked me forward, knocking me flat. Small rocks dug into my back as I was dragged over the ground. Arms flailing, I tried to grab ahold of the small bushes. When I finally came to a halt, the smell of sulfur was suffocating.

  He stood above me a second later, occupying a space that had been empty. There was no soul—nothing around him—and I knew he was an Upper Level demon. His dark hair was buzzed into a Mohawk, the tips colored bloodred. He looked only to be in his mid-twenties and he wore a pin-striped suit, which, besides the fact that it looked ridiculous in the dark woods, was something straight out of old mobster movies. He even had a red satiny tie and matching hankie. A short, hysterical laugh escaped me.

  And I realized I’d briefly seen him before. The day I’d waited for Morris to pick me up—he’d been the demon watching me.

  “My name is Paimon. I’m the great and powerful King, ruler of two hundred legions,” he said in a distinctively Southern accent. I found myself wondering the weirdest things right then. Did Hell have a north and south? Because this dude was Southern. He bowed at the waist, a parody of elegance. “And you are Layla, child of the Warden Elijah and the demon Lilith. Finally, after all this time, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Paimon—I recognized him from the Lesser Key, the one on the camel/horse. It took no stretch of the imagination to conclude that I was now face-to-face with the demon who sought to raise the Lilin.

  “Shit.” I jerked up, desperately trying to untangle my legs.

  He raised a hand and I was pinned back, staring up at the cloudless night sky. “Let’s not make this difficult, darlin’.”

  I gulped in air, moving my hands over the ground. I grabbed a rock, squeezing until the rough edges bit into my palm.

  “I’m feeling a bit gracious, so I’m going to give you an opportunity I’ve never given anyone. You come along with me without being too much of an inconvenience—” he flashed a perfect set of white teeth “—and I won’t make a crown out of the bones of everyone you love. I can promise you riches beyond your imagination, the freedom to be whatever you want to be and a life envied by all.”

  The
rock felt heavy in my hand and I almost laughed again. “You want to raise the Lilin?”

  “Ah, I’m glad I don’t have to explain my desire. Though I did have this whole speech planned.” He winked one crimson eye. “There’s always time later, darlin’.”

  Fear knotted my stomach, but I forced as much bravado into my voice as possible. “And after you use me to raise the Lilin, you’re seriously going to let me live?”

  “Maybe,” he replied. “Depends on how happy you make me.”

  “Yeah, you can go to Hell.”

  Paimon turned his head away and then faced me again. His skin melted away, revealing a red skull and eye sockets full of flames. His mouth gaped open, long and distorted. The howling sound that came from him turned my soul cold. I screamed until my voice left me, unable to move more than an inch backward.

  Then he was the handsome man again, smiling. “Darlin’, you’re a means to an end—an end that works wonderfully in my favor.” Paimon crouched beside me, tipping his head to the side. “Now, you can make this easy or very, very hard.”

  I took a deep breath, but couldn’t seem to get enough air in my lungs. I was worried about Zayne and knew that if I let Paimon capture me, I’d never have a chance to get him help. “Okay. Can—can you get these creepy roots off my legs?”

  Another brief smile and Paimon waved his hand. The roots trembled, withered up and became nothing more than ashes within seconds. “I’m so glad you’re going to ma—”

  I swung my arm around with all my strength, slamming the rock into his temple. His head snapped in the other direction, but a second later he was looking at me and laughing. Laughing. Flames licked from the wound where blood should have flowed.

  Paimon grabbed my arm in a viselike grip. “Now, that wasn’t very nice, darlin’.”

  I stared at his burning head. “Jesus.”

  “Not quite.” He hauled me to my feet. “Say good-night.”

  I opened my mouth, but before I could make a sound, my world went dark.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Things pieced themselves back together slowly. Sensation led the way, which was the first indication that something was very wrong. I couldn’t move my arms or legs. They were bound to the cold floor, the rope tight and cutting into my wrists as I strained forward.

  Oh, crap.

  Smell came next. The moldy scent was familiar, poking around in my head, but I couldn’t wiggle an exact memory free. When I was able to pry my eyes open, I was staring up at exposed metal rafters.

  Candles didn’t cast much light, but in the flickering dance of shadows I could make out a basketball hoop without a backboard. My gaze dropped and tracked the visible scuff marks until they disappeared in a white line drawn in chalk—a circle. Straight lines streaked out, meeting the circle. I turned my head, wincing at the dull ache in my temples. More lines on the other side of me.

  A pentagram slightly crooked. Oh, this was bad.

  I was in the old gymnasium on the lowest level of my school, tied down in the middle of a pentagram and was that chanting? God. Craning my neck, I tried to see beyond the hundreds of white candles following the circumference of the circle.

  In the shadows, there were things moving. Their soft chattering and piglike squeals turned my insides cold. Rack demons.

  “You’re awake. Good.” A deep Southern drawl came out from the shadows. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  My chin snapped down, to my toes. Paimon had removed the jacket and untucked the red shirt. He came to the edge of the circle, stopped and glanced down. He took a step back, and my suspicion soared. “You’re not going to come in here?” I asked.

  Paimon tipped his head back and chuckled. “That pretty little lopsided pentagram can easily be converted into a devil’s trap, and my Hermès loafers are not going one inch beyond that chalk.”

  My hands curled into fists and I could feel the ring biting into skin. “That’s going to make doing this incantation hard, isn’t it?”

  “Not at all, darlin’,” he said, kneeling down. That Mohawk of his had to be at least two feet high. “That’s what lackeys are for. Oh, lackey!”

  To my left, another form pulled free from the shadows. I hadn’t seen him before, but his smile was beyond creepy. I swallowed as my eyes darted between the two demons. No one was going to show up and save the day. I didn’t know if Zayne had survived the Hellion. Roth probably didn’t even know I’d been taken. And unless I could Houdini my way out of these ropes, I wasn’t going to be able to do much to defend myself. At that moment I knew three things. I was screwed. Mankind was screwed. The entire universe was screwed.

  “I confess I’ve been disappointed with Naberius. He should’ve been able to retrieve you without me stepping in. Show her how displeased I was.”

  The lackey waved his left hand. Four of his fingers were missing. Only the middle one remained. “They’ll grow back. Slowly.”

  “Painfully,” Paimon added with a gleeful smile. He rose fluidly. “Anyway, Naberius, spill the blood of Lilith. I don’t have all night.”

  Like a dutiful little tool, Naberius stepped carefully over the circle and knelt. My heart dropped. “Wait.” Naberius grabbed my hand with that one finger. Metal glinted in his other hand. “Wait, I said!”

  Paimon sighed. “Are you going to beg now? Come over to the dark side? You already had your chance, darlin’. When I get done, I’m going to kill you. Well, I’ll probably have a little fun with you first, but I will kill you.”

  Panic clawed its way up my throat, but I knew if I caved to it, that would be the end. Heart pounding, I tried to tug the arm closest to Naberius, but the rope gave no slack. “Why?”

  “Why?” He mimicked my voice.

  “Why do you want to do this?” My mouth was dry. “Do you really want to start the apocalypse? Do you really think this is going to work?”

  Paimon tipped his head to the side. “The apocalypse?” His laugh was deep and it echoed through the gymnasium. “Oh, darlin’, is that what the Wardens think?”

  “It’s what Hell thinks, too.”

  “The Boss thinks that? Fabulous. While the apocalypse sounds like a good time, I could give a flying rat’s ass about that.”

  Surprise shot through me. “You...you don’t want out of Hell?”

  “Oh, what demon doesn’t want out of Hell? Take me, for example. I’ve served the Boss for over two thousand years. I’d like nothing more than to say au revoir to that life, but I’m not here because of what I want. I’m here for what I need. Just like you, another means to an end.”

  “I—I don’t understand.” I really didn’t.

  His lips, wide and expressive, twisted into a smirk. “It’s rather ironic that you don’t. Kind of sad, too.”

  “Is it?” Naberius was messing with my hand, trying to turn the ring around. “Then explain it to me? If I’m going to die, I’d like to know the real reason behind it.”

  Paimon looked over his shoulder and then his gaze slid back to me. “Have you ever been in love?”

  “What?” I so wasn’t expecting that question.

  “I said, have you ever been in love?”

  “I...” I didn’t know. I loved Zayne, but I didn’t know what kind of love that was, and Roth... I thought I could be in love with him, if given time. Or maybe I already was, in a little way. “I don’t know.”

  “Interesting,” the demon answered. “When you’re in love, you’d risk anything to ensure your loved one’s happiness. Even the end of the world.” He shrugged. “When you’re separated from the one you love, you’d do anything to be reacquainted with that person. Anything. What? You look so shocked. Did you think demons couldn’t fall in love? We can. Our love is a little dark and twisted. We love until death. Most wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of our affections, but we feel what we feel all the same.”

  I had no idea what him being in love had to do with raising the Lilin, unless he thought his lover would be reincarnated into one.<
br />
  His eyes rolled. “I can tell you still haven’t figured it out. It’s your mother, darlin’. That’s why it’s ironic.”

  “Lilith?” I squeaked.

  “You can’t call her Mother? I’m sure that would warm her cold heart.”

  “No. No, I cannot.”

  He prowled along the chalk circle. “Your mother is being kept in the fiery pits—exactly where a devil’s trap will send a demon. With the Boss in Hell, no one goes near the pits or gets out. And the only way I can get her out is to lure the Boss topside. Apocalypse now or later, the Boss will venture topside if the Lilin are there. And a minute with my beloved is worth the risk of an eternity without her.”

  “Which leaves the pits unguarded,” I finished. When Paimon clapped his approval, I was stunned. All of this had been to free Lilith because he loved her? That was so twisted and...

  “Naberius?”

  “Wait!” Terror was starting to overcome the panic, which was way worse. “How do you know the incantation will work? You don’t even have the Lesser Key.”

  Paimon frowned. “Like I need the Lesser Key. I had Lilith—I helped her get free so she could have you.”

 

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