by A. K. Koonce
I can’t believe this is happening.
That Harriette fucking Henn brought Prods and professors together to battle against a common enemy. My sister is leading their strikes.
We’re a team, almost.
Just the sight of it is enough to reinvigorate me in the battle. With or without my wings, I am going to fight, and I am going to give it my all. I’ll protect the academy and the ones I love.
No matter what.
Seventeen
Malek
The taste of demon blood is vile in my mouth, but I can’t stop. I rip through the tough hides of as many as I possibly can. The wolf has taken over. I’ve finally given in to the wilder, primitive side of myself.
And I’ve never felt better.
This lust for the hunt is driven completely by my burning need to protect. My mate. My pack. My home. I will give it all if it means Izara gets to live.
She didn’t trust me enough before, but I’ll give her a reason now to never doubt me ever again.
So I kill without remorse. I will protect the statues at whatever cost. Hell will not go beyond the academy. It can’t. Not with everyone fighting against our enemy with everything we have.
But hopes are fickle things, caught within the grasp of our fingertips only to slip away in the blink of an eye.
There are too many of them, and they push us back. It’s nearly impossible now to protect the statues, and I think we all realize it the moment an explosion booms across the skies of the academy. The whole earth beneath my paws trembles at the impact, and a whine catches in my throat.
The ground explodes in a geyser of earth, grass, and ash. And with it, fragmented stone pieces. The remains of statues rain down against the earth, and in front of me the cracked head of a shifter lands on a pile of broken rubble.
Looking into the shattered remains of a founding Prod feels like a premonition. Of death. Of destruction. Of the end.
The whole world around me trembles like an earthquake has erupted beneath us. Like the world is a god bellowing out its rage so we can all feel it.
I nearly trip over my paws, and a wave of energy shimmers through the air. I look up. I think we all do. Threads of electric light fragment through the sky like veins fizzing across a domed glass sphere. The threads of light freeze, and a resounding crack reverberates through the sky.
No.
Fucking no.
The statues have been destroyed, and the protection around Academy of Six is hanging on by those single threads of light.
I circle and see that the headmistress’s statue is still intact.
We need to protect it at all costs. We failed to guard the other statues, and if this last one falls, we’re fucked.
So I turn and rip into the demon nearest to me.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Eighteen
Saint
I don’t want to contemplate how hopeless this fight is. My mouth and teeth are coated with blood, and I’ve never tasted anything more disgusting than a demon. My stomach rolls, but I push that sensation aside, tearing through the creatures with my hands and teeth.
And when the world explodes, I know how truly fucked we are.
It’s hopeless.
Even with Azazel and his pixies blasting through the ranks of hell, we are outnumbered. Where the fuck are Phoenix and Izara? We need them. Fuck, we need an entire fucking army.
Claws jab through my flesh, and I scream just before I grab for the hand that lashed out at me and snap it in half.
I lost Syko in the fray. I have no idea if he’s alive or dead. My heart feels heavier than my soul right now. My knees shake, but I force the determination out even when everything in me tells me to give in.
I’m pushed back to the ground. I don’t know where one creature ends and another begins. There are too many, too close together. My whole body screams in pain, and I can’t seem to move. Shadows flicker around the corners of my vision and slither up my legs. The darkness pins me down to the blackened earth. I struggle against the bindings, but it’s futile. A shadow looms over me and molds into the form of a man with a top hat. Black, depthless holes become eyes and a gaping mouth.
The figure takes off its top hat and bows. When it speaks, it’s with the voice of a man with a perfectly purring tone. “Good evening, Saint Von Hunter.”
My eyes widen. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Osmodeus, pleased to meet you.” He twirls his hat over his shoulder and flicks it back up onto his head.
Osmodeus.
This is the motherfucker that hurt Izzy with vision after vision of our deaths. I thought he was dead. Apparently the fuck not.
“I wish I could say the same,” I grit out.
His hole of a mouth opens and laughter flitters out. “Don’t like this form? What about this one?” His body shifts and transforms into the perfect twin image of Phoenix, with consuming black eyes.
My heart almost stops.
“Or would you prefer this?” His image changes again, and he’s Syko now, wings intact and fluttering against his broad back.
“Fuck. You.”
He smiles with Syko’s lips and it’s a twisted, grotesque thing. “Don’t mind if I do.” He changes again, but now, he’s Izzy. Long, dark hair flows down bare shoulders, and the twin dark eyes look wrong. “How about now, baby?” he purrs in Izzy’s voice. And it sounds like her, if Izara’s tone had been dripped in poison, like an apple laced with a curse.
I struggle against those dark bindings. I can’t stand to see him wearing Izara like a mask. It’s cruel. I’ll gladly rip through him. I’ll gladly end him for this offense and all others. But his power is strong; after all, he is a higher demon of hell, even if he seems to be composed entirely of shadows.
Those shadows tighten around my body and squeeze. The breath escapes my lungs on a shouting curse, and the pressure pushes against me, tighter and tighter until I hear my bones beginning to snap.
“She killed you a thousand times in a thousand ways.” Osmodeus smiles with Izara’s lips, but it’s not brilliant or beautiful. “I let her kill you over and over again. I should let you suffer the same fate.”
The shadows grip me, and I gasp. My vision flickers in and out of consciousness, but he leaves me awake enough to hear his every vile word.
“Do you know what happens when a higher demon is killed?” He presses Izara’s face so close to mine. “We don’t die. We can’t be killed in our own domain, but we do get shoved into the earth and are forced to claw our way out again.” His words drip with venom and hatred. “It would have been fun to break you as you killed your loved ones.” The shadows’ grip is crushing now, and I scream. “But it’s easier to kill you now and throw your body at that bitch’s feet—”
The word ends on a strangle, and the illusion he wears of Izara suddenly fragments into a thousand pieces. It explodes in a shower of dark particles until he assumes his shadowy form again and looks down to find a sword shoved straight through his chest.
He gasps as liquid night pours out of the wound. The darkness holding me down slackens, and Osmodeus doesn’t have time to utter a single word before he explodes into a shower of ash and shadows.
I gasp for breath, and as the shower of darkness ebbs, I catch sight of the figure behind where Osmodeus had been standing.
A smile pulls at my lips.
“Since he’s not in his domain, I bet he stays dead this time.” Heaven lowers the sword and flicks her hair over her shoulder. “No one fucks with a Von Hunter. Ever.”
My sister is… fucking terrifying, if I do say so myself.
I slowly come to my feet. Everything inside me aches and feels raw and broken, but still I take a staggering step toward my sister, taking in the sword in her hand.
My eyes narrow on it. “What the fuck is that?”
She holds it up by the hilt. It appears to be made of pure gold. “Daddy lent it to me. It’s a relic from the Citadel.”
>
“Yeah, he probably forgot to give me my relic. Bet it got lost in the mail or something.” I nod with a big eat-shit smile, but she simply looks into the distance.
Of course Daddy would lend his favorite child something as precious as an ancient vampire relic. The question is, why?
“And where is Daddy dearest?”
Her lips press firmly together, and I know she’s warding off a chuckle. She flicks her hair again and gives a pointed look over my shoulder.
The breath catches in my throat. No. Slowly, I turn in time to see the gates to the academy shove open and the two of them storm through.
It’s like something out of a comedy, and the laughter that’s borderline hysteria escapes from my chest as soon as I see them.
My father is being led up the little crest of a hill on academy grounds, and leading him by sharp yanks of the ear is…? My mother.
Her cloth habit is dark in contrast to her stern, pale face, and from here, I can see she’s shouting at him. He opens his mouth and responds with his own equally stern expression, and she gives him a hard yank that has him shouting and nodding his head in agreement to whatever she just said.
And then more figures begin pouring through the gates, and I swear I’m fucking dreaming right now, because there’s no way in all the seven hells and heavens that this is fucking happening. There is no way that the Citadel in all its powerful force is coming through those gates alongside the nuns of the catholic church.
Or that my mother and father are suddenly leading them into the attack.
“Wh—” For once in my life, I am struck speechless.
“You told me to tell Daddy and Mommy, so I did. Turns out, the church isn’t very happy about hell threatening the world, so they decided to intervene. Mom brought holy water. Daddy hates holy water.”
Her words are punctuated by a demon hurtling toward their group. Water sloshes, and sizzling and dying gurgles begin to fill the air.
I wish the bitterness could enter my body for a split second. My father has always been disappointed in me, and when I asked for his help, he denied me. But he came, he came because my mother asked it of him.
A demon lunges toward my mother, and my whole body tenses, but my father is suddenly there, ripping through the thing’s throat with his bare hands, killing it instantly. Then they turn toward each other, and I swear, a spark of passion lingers in the heated gaze between them.
Heaven’s next words echo my thoughts. “Love is fucking weird.”
Nineteen
Phoenix
“I still don’t understand any of this.” My arms cross against my chest, but I lower them almost immediately. Hell is loose, and I have to be ready for any possibility, for any fucking thing. “I don’t think you should trust that Azazel asshole.”
I can practically feel her eyes rolling as she stalks ahead of me. Her voice, when she replies, is soft yet firm. “I told you, he’s my uncle.”
“Blood uncle?” The words slip out, I can’t help it. It’s jealousy, I know it is. Seriously, feelings are the worst things to have. How can everyone else stand to have them?
“Well, he’s my father’s brother. If all angels are created by God, then I’d say, yes, he’s a blood uncle.” She stops, her booted feet crunching into the dead earth as she half-turns to smirk at me. “Are you still jealous?”
A growl rumbles out of my chest in violent vibrations. I shouldn’t be, but that angel and his fucking smirk and familiarity… I don’t like it, and I’m not sure if we can trust him at all. How can we trust anyone right now?
Especially that leather-wearing asshole, prancing around like he’s a gift from god or something.
Izara keeps walking. Her wings are tense at her back; she’s just as cautious as I am right now as we venture through the blackened woods. Everything is too quiet, and I know that the silence never brings anything good. There should be noise, even the smaller hellish creatures skittering around on the ground or through the trees.
There is nothing.
The woods here are clustered together in small patches, and we walk toward the larger forestation where Izara swears the Forest of Woe is. How she can know where anything is in this fucked-up jumble that is now a strange mixture of hell and the academy is beyond me. But she navigates through the maze of trees with expertise, pushing aside branches. They crack and fall to the ground.
The only sound around us.
Until we reach the edge of the copse of trees. Her feet pick up the pace until she’s practically running, and I curse as I follow her to the edge.
We stop, breathing heavily. I hear new noises now. The forest resounds with them—sounds of wails, heartbreak, sorrow, and regret. They’re sounds ripped straight from sorrowful souls, rising one over the other in a sound that’s all too haunting.
A sweep of cold chills my body. The hairs on my arms rise, and I feel a terrible prickling sensation at the back of my neck. Whatever happiness I have in my body begins to seep away. I can feel it draining from me, trying to drown me with despair.
All. These. Fucking. Feelings.
I snap my magic out, erecting walls around myself, and the despair snaps in half, fleeing from me like shadows and lesser demons.
I take a breath.
“I’m going in.” Izara starts to take a step.
Nothing about this feels right. I grab her wrist. “Wait.”
She stops for a second, but I can feel the energy coursing through her body, ready to burst. She wants to get going. The faster she does this, the sooner we can get back to war.
“This doesn’t feel right.” My thumb presses against the pulse at her wrist. It’s a steady beat against her skin, and it somehow does nothing to ease my anxiety.
“I have to do this, Phoenix. I have to go in.”
I open my mouth to reply when a new chill creeps along the ground. Ice appears near my feet and cracks into little fragments. A cloud of breath puffs in front of my lips, and Izara’s eyes widen as she whirls.
I sense a presence behind me and slam my magic up just in time to block a blast of ice that shoots toward us.
A cloud of cold mist and snow swirls like a storm before us, and through the cloud scuttles a long figure. Limbs crackle with every step the creature takes. It appears to be made entirely of ice, with a thorned crown of icicles against its head.
A mouth with bleeding black and blue teeth opens and cries out. “You little bitch!” The voice is very obviously female, and the words are slung angrily in Izzy’s direction. “I will kill you!”
Izzy sighs. “You hell demons can’t let anything the fuck go.”
Her answer is a roar just before she lunges.
My palms push against Izzy’s body. “Go!” I urge.
She stumbles, looking at me with wide eyes before nodding with determination. Her gaze lingers for half a second like she just wants more time here with me. But there is no time. She turns and runs away, her body disappearing between the dark trees.
The demon slams into my back, dropping me to the ground. Claws rake through my body and try to tear through my flesh. With a cry, I let my own magic explode out with choking force. It blasts the demon backwards, and her body hits the ground with a sound like glass shattering.
I jump up. My rage pulses through my whole body in slivers of ravaging power. I don’t let the demon get up.
I am an incubus, and my magic is an endless well of desire. But next to it, there’s a demon’s destructive force. It’s what makes so many fear me, run from me. It’s what I unleash now.
The demon jumps up before the strength of my magic hits her. She lunges, scraping talons down my arm. I fall forward, pain zapping through my body with the blow. It feels cold, like she’s digging ice straight through my flesh and shooting it into my veins.
I force away the tremble that wracks through my body, but it feels like she’s gripped her ice-cold fist around the heart I always believed I never had.
The heavy beating of it thumps again
st my chest.
A curse springs from my mouth as I try to shake the sensation off. I feel like I’m coated in snow from head to toe, and her laughter echoing in my ears sounds like the whistling of a freezing wind.
I don’t realize when I’ve dropped to my knees except when the slamming pain radiates up my legs and nearly shatters me. The cold envelops me in a tight fist, demanding my life.
“I’ll kill you.” The beast looms over me and laughs. “And then I’ll find her, and she will regret not making a deal with me when she had the chance.”
Izara…
My teeth chatter, and the word doesn’t leave my mouth at all. This demon means to kill my girl.
And I won’t fucking let her.
The striking blow comes toward me, and I know it’s with a force that’s meant to kill. I see the tip of those claws reaching for my heart. I wonder for a moment if she’ll try to feast on the organ that I thought never worked inside my body. It was always something that felt so foreign, like it wasn’t really there at all.
Turns out, I just needed the right woman to help breathe life into it.
And I won’t let this bitch anywhere near the most precious gift Izara could have ever given me.
My hands flash out and grab those claws. They dig into the skin of my palms, but I barely feel the pain.
Instead, I feel everything else swirling inside me in a torrent that makes me want to explode.
Anxiety. Fear. Happiness. Jealousy. Rage.
And love.
With a quick snap of my wrists, the demon’s hands break as easily as ice. It screeches, thrashing its body away from me as blood pools from the gaping wounds.
This second of distraction is all I need.
I throw my magic out with all its punishing force, hitting her square in the cold chest. She explodes, and ice and snow blast me back until my back slams against the trunk of a black tree.
I gasp for breath as the cold feeling leaves me. The ground is covered in the remnants of snow and ice, and I watch, unblinking, as it all melts away.