“What in the name of Lucifer?” he growled.
“Stay back from me or I’ll do it again, you nasty bastard!” I gasped, though I had no idea how I had done what I had done in the first place. “I’ll fry you like a fucking piece of bacon!”
“You can’t!” Druaga drew back, his muddy eyes uncertain.
“I can! Laish taught me everything he knew about words of power,” I lied recklessly. “If he was here now—”
“Well, he’s not,” Belial thundered, glaring at me. “And he never will be again, thanks to you, you filthy little mortal!” He nodded at the guards who were still holding me, although not as tightly as before. “Someone gag her. That should stop any further displays while Druaga finishes her punishment.”
I opened my mouth to shout again but a hot, hard palm slapped over my face before I could speak.
“Now, Druaga,” Belial said, an evil grin curling the corners of his thin, blue lips. “You may proceed.”
“I will.” The boar-headed demon got back into position between my thighs. “I’m going to have fun with this little bitch. And since Lord Laish isn’t here to stop me—”
“Oh, but he is.”
The low, familiar voice came as a shock to more than just me. Every head in the room jerked up, including mine. To my mingled relief and astonishment, I saw Laish standing in the doorway of the plush boardroom. He was wearing an immaculate three piece suit and a look of utter rage on his face. But when he spoke, his voice came out cold and terribly quiet.
“Druaga,” he said softly. “Take your hands off Gwendolyn and step away from her now or suffer the consequences.”
* * * * *
Laish
How can I express my rage at seeing those filthy hands on the woman I loved? Words cannot express it. I wanted to kill every last one of them—to maim and rend—to tear out their hearts and burn them at their feet. A crude solution, perhaps, but doubtless an effective one.
I restrained myself with some effort. Gwendolyn had been subjected to enough already. All I wanted now was to get her out of here once and for all and see her safely home to the Mortal Realm.
“My Lord Laish,” Druaga sputtered, stepping quickly away from my little witch. “We were told…we thought…”
“I can see well enough what you thought.” Striding past him, I gripped Gwendolyn under the arm and pulled her behind me, shielding her with my body. I could feel her trembling as she tried to get herself together. The fear and anxiety coming from her in waves only increased my rage.
“My Lord,” Belial began. “The Mirror of the Eye showed—”
“The Mirror showed what—that I was dead? Or gone beyond recovering?” I glared at him. “And you thought the best way to react to my death was to hurt the woman I love?” I shook my head. “Words cannot express the depth of this betrayal—I trusted you, my old Master. I told Gwendolyn to go to you for safe passage back to her home. And how do you repay my trust? By giving her to this…this beast?”
I nodded in disgust at Druaga. The boar-headed demon was still standing there with his member in one hand. Now he rather unwisely began to talk.
“She stole what was mine! I was taking the compensation awarded by the Council,” he snorted. “It is my right—”
“You have no right to the woman I love.” With a flick of my wrist, I caused the black-bladed thrak to appear in my hand.
Druaga’s eyes widened when he saw the weapon.
“You can’t use that on me! You have no soul to wield it with.”
“Are you certain about that?” I took a step towards him, holding the thrak out before me.
His face filled with fear, but still he didn’t have the sense to shut up.
“Even if you could, a soul-killer is forbidden! It is against the law!”
“Have you forgotten who is Lord of this realm?” I demanded in a low voice. “I am the law.”
With ruthless pleasure, I plunged the dagger into the blackened husk of his heart. It took almost everything I had left of the piece of soul I had stolen, but I felt the blade do its work before I withdrew it.
With an agonized cry, Druaga stumbled backwards and burst into black flames. They sprouted from his one remaining tusk first. Then, as he tried frantically to beat them out, they spread to his hands and then his arms, flowing like oil along his skin and clothing. At last he was completely consumed—a shrieking ball of black fire, staggering around the room trying desperately to put himself out.
I knew he would not be successful. Nor would death end his burning. Even after he was completely consumed, his essence would writhe forever in the Lake of Fire—entombed for eternity in unspeakable agony. It was the fate that awaited every demon when he died and I was pleased to inflict it on Druaga now.
At last his struggles were over and he was no more than a pile of ashes on the marble floor and a cloud of foul smelling smoke which I waved away with a word. I turned to Belial and the rest of the Council and held out the thrak.
“Would any of you care to be next?”
“My Lord!” Belial sounded aghast. “You cannot threaten the Council!”
“And why not?” I demanded. “Only moments ago they were threatening Gwendolyn. Not a one of them lifted a finger to protect her from Druaga—yourself included. In fact, you gave her to him.”
“My Lord, please,” the old demon pleaded. “I know you are upset but listen to reason—you only think you love this mortal female! She has bewitched you—around her hangs the scent of the Eternal Flame!”
I gave a short laugh. “Is that what you think?”
“It is what I know.” Belial looked at me earnestly, in the way which used to move my heart. Now it did nothing but make me angry. “Please, my Lord,” he groveled. “She nearly killed you with her feminine wiles—please, see reason!”
“The only thing I see is someone I once cared for who is now nothing to me,” I told him coldly. “Go, Belial. For the sake of our shared past, I will not kill you. But you are banished from my realm henceforward and forevermore.”
“But my Lord,” he whined. “I am old…all of my books, my study materials are here. I cannot simply leave. I’d be torn to pieces the minute I left Dis!”
“That is not my concern,” I said. “Go now or I will let Gwendolyn ‘fry you like a piece of bacon’ as I believe I heard her say earlier.”
Whining and muttering to himself, the old demon hunched his way out of the Council room door. As he left, he threw one last baleful glance over his humped shoulder at Gwendolyn.
She lifted her chin and glared back at him, clutching her torn shirt tightly to her breasts. I was glad to see her composure had returned though I could still feel a slight tremor running through her. I longed to take her in my arms and comfort her but I knew she would not want any comfort I could offer. Besides, I had one last matter to attend to first.
I turned to the Council.
“You are all dismissed. Go and never return to my realm.”
There were mutters of disbelief and rage and some threatened to speak to Lucifer himself.
“Speak to him then.” I raised the thrak menacingly. “I care not. Only get out of my sight before I decide Druaga needs company in the Lake of Fire.” It was an empty threat—I had only a shred left of the soul I had stolen and it was far too precious to me to waste it on any of them.
The members of the Council did not know that, however. My words got them moving with admirable alacrity, considering their age. Casting frightened glances at the thrak I held, they shuffled quickly from the room.
When they were gone at last with the door slammed shut behind them, I turned to Gwendolyn.
“Mon ange,” I said, unable to help using my old nickname for her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said and then burst into tears.
“Gwendolyn…” I knew I had no right to comfort her but I couldn’t help myself. I drew her into my arms and held her close to my chest, feeling the connection between us t
hrob with her emotion. It was a connection I would have to give up soon enough but I couldn’t bring myself to do it now—not yet. Not when she was trembling and crying in my arms.
“Oh, Laish,” she whispered at last. “I thought you were dead.”
“I was, for a time,” I told her truthfully enough. “But listen, mon ange, this is not the best place to talk. Tell me, are you ready to go home?”
“Yes,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. “Oh, yes—please, Laish. Take me home!”
“With pleasure,” I said.
With a wave of my hand, I opened a door to the Mortal Realm. Then, taking her by the arm, I pulled her through, back to her home and to safety, fulfilling my promise though it broke my heart to do so. My betrayal had been too great for her to forgive—of that I was certain. Once her tears had run their course, she would remember how cruelly I had treated her and want nothing more to do with me.
She would be well rid of me, I told myself stoically. I had caused her nothing but pain and grief and if I didn’t wish to hurt her any more, I had to let her go.
Though I loved my little witch more than I could express, it was time to say goodbye.
* * * * *
Gwendolyn
We came back right in front of Grams’ small, neat front lawn in the middle of the night. At least, I think it was the middle of the night. I wasn’t wearing a watch but it was dark and the air had that still, cold feeling it gets in the early morning hours just after midnight.
Even in Florida it gets a little chilly sometimes. I shivered and tried to pull my torn shirt closer around myself.
“Are you cold?” Laish looked at me, his ruby eyes filled with anxiety and something else—some emotion I couldn’t quite read.
“A little,” I admitted. “Too bad I didn’t think to grab that fur coat you gave me right before they dragged me down to the…to the trial.”
I could hear the break in my own voice as I said the words but I tried to cover it up by clearing my throat. The events of the last few minutes were just beginning to sink in. Being handed over to Druaga…almost being raped…and then the incredible mixture of relief and disbelief I felt when I saw Laish standing there and knowing everything would be okay. Then the horror of seeing the boar-demon incinerated before my eyes…I could still smell the stink like burning pork and hear his squealing screams echoing in my ears…
Ugh—stop! Just stop! I told myself but somehow I couldn’t. The memories were on a loop inside my brain, playing over and over, making me feel sick and weak and shaky.
“Here,” Laish murmured. Taking off his immaculate charcoal gray suit jacket, he put it around my shoulders.
“Thanks.” I slipped my arms into the sleeves and looked down at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. I had so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. Or maybe I was just afraid if I started talking too much, I would start crying again.
“Well…” His voice had a briskness to it that made me look up. “You are home safely, the door to the Abyss is shut, and you have no more to fear from the HellSpawn or any other creature of the Infernal Realm.”
“Thank you,” I said again because my stupid brain couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“So I suppose it is time to leave you with your beloved grandmother and let you get on with your mortal life.” He nodded at the trim yellow bungalow where I knew Grams was probably sleeping right this minute.
Suddenly I realized he was saying goodbye to me. And it didn’t sound like he was coming back.
“Laish,” I said beginning to panic. “Wait, I—”
“Gwendy? Gwendy is that you?”
The soft familiar voice came from the vicinity of the front porch. As I watched, a shape detached itself from the mass of shadows and came towards me. The moon was full and in its light, I could see the haggard face of my little sister.
“Keisha?” I left Laish standing there and ran to meet her. The last time I’d seen her in the Mirror of the Eye, she’d looked like a real mess. She didn’t look much better now but at least I could tell she was clean. There was no drug haze in her dark brown eyes when she looked at me, though they did shine with tears.
“Gwendy,” she whispered and then she was in my arms and we were hugging and kissing and holding each other for the first time in ages.
“What’s this? What’s going on out here?” another voice declared and Grams came out the front door in her pink quilted house robe looking ready to shoot whoever was trespassing on her property. Grams doesn’t play when it comes to intruders. But when she saw who it was, she ran forward and encircled both Keisha and me in her arms.
“Grams!” Keisha cried.
“Keisha, child! And Gwendolyn! Oh, my girls—both my girls have come back to me! Thank the Goddess!”
Grams was nearly crying she was so happy and Keisha and I were crying.
“How did you get home safe?” Grams asked. I think she was talking to me but it was Keisha who answered.
“Ray’s gone, Grams—that’s why I came home. He just disappeared the other night—right out of the bed. I don’t know what happened to him!”
“Well, neither do I.” Grams shot me a look and muttered in my ear, “Now you wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would you, Gwendolyn?”
“No, I swear,” I whispered back, glad that Keisha was crying too loudly to hear me. “It wasn’t me. It was…” But as I turned my head to nod at Laish, I saw that the spot he had been standing in was empty. Frantically, I scanned the front yard, looking for any trace of him but he had melted quietly away, almost as though he was a dream I’d had just before waking. “Laish,” I whispered but there was no reply.
He was gone.
Chapter Thirty-five
Gwendolyn
“Well, then what happened?” Addison demanded. She and Taylor were literally on the edge of their seats, staring at me with wide eyes as I repeated the story I’d already told Grams what felt like a hundred times. Of course, I edited quite a lot of it for Grams but here with my friends, I felt like I could really talk and I had been completely honest with them.
I shrugged. “Then, well…we came back in the middle of the night and it was cold and my shirt was torn so he…he gave me his jacket.”
I still had it hanging in my closet. Even though it had been days since Laish had brought me back, it still smelled faintly of cinnamon and that dark spice that always hung around him. I knew because I was guilty of going to the closet and pressing my face against it, just to feel close to him again. Stupid, I know but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
“And?” Taylor asked.
“And then my little sister showed up and he left while I was distracted.” I sighed. “I haven’t seen him since.”
“Well, have you tried to see him?” Addison asked practically. “I mean, have you called him or summonsed him or whatever it is you do with demons?”
“Well…no,” I admitted. To be honest, I’d been afraid to. What if I called and he didn’t answer? What if he never answered again? The way he’d said goodbye had seemed so final.
“You should call him,” Taylor said. “Didn’t you say that he said he loved you?”
“Repeatedly,” I said. “But then Belial said Laish only thought he loved me because of the Eternal Flame.”
“What? That Bangles song from the 80s?” Addison looked confused.
I explained quickly and then shrugged.
“So you see—he probably doesn’t love me at all. He just thinks he does.”
“Well, he’s got a funny way of showing that he thinks he loves you,” Taylor said. “Since he also took your virginity and half your power.”
“But did he?” Addison asked, looking at me. “I thought you said you opened a portal from Hell into our world. Doesn’t that take some serious juice as a witch?”
“Well, yes it does,” I admitted. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I did that.”
“And how did Laish cl
ose the door to the Abyss that you opened when you dragged me back here?” Taylor asked. “I thought the whole point of you going to Hell in the first place was because only someone with your—how did you put it?”
“My ‘soul signature’ what was Laish kept saying,” I said.
“Right—only someone with your soul signature could close the door—at least according to him. So then why did he make you come if he was able to close it without you?”
“To mess with her head?” Addison suggested. “Demons are almost as bad as vampires when it comes to that.”
“Thanks a lot.” Taylor made a face at her friend, showing her little white fangs. “I just think it’s weird that he says he loves her and then betrays her and then come back and saves her just in the nick of time. Something doesn’t add up there.”
“Like I said—he’s messing with her head,” Addison said flatly.
“What if he’s not?” Taylor demanded. “What if he had a perfectly good reason for everything he did?”
“Like what?” Addison demanded. “What reason could he have to drag her down to Hell if he was able to shut that door on his own in the first place?”
“But that’s the thing,” I interrupted their heated discussion. “I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t have been able to close it at all. Grams thought the same or she never would have let me go in the first place.”
“Well maybe he had to take you to Hell in order to get close enough to you for some of your, uh, ‘soul signature’ to rub off on him,” Taylor proposed.
“No, it doesn’t work that way.” I rubbed my eyes, wishing I could get some perspective. But every time I closed my eyes, all the awful events of my time in Hell intruded, demanding to be taken out and examined like poison toys wanting out of their box. I was so distracted at this point I could barely think straight—which was one reason I’d invited Taylor and Addison over—to help me make sense of the whole mess.
“Well how does it work then?” Addison demanded.
“To shut that door, Laish would have had to get a piece of my soul somehow,” I said. “And…oh my Goddess…” Understanding poured over my head like a bucket of cold water. “Oh my Goddess,” I whispered again. “Why didn’t I see it before?”
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