Hell to Pay (The Harry Russo Diaries Book 4)

by Lisa Emme

  “Please, Hecate, aid me in my task,” I prayed silently.

  There was a sudden rush of wings as a waft of air passed over me, and then, as easily as blowing out a candle, the flame extinguished.

  “No!” Seth bellowed, his fingers elongating into claws as he raked at the barrier, attempting to get through to me. Luckily, the circle held.

  For a brief moment it felt like time stood still. The water in the fountain ceased flowing, the music stopped playing and the slot machines fell silent. Into the deafening silence, another sound rose as the room shook, the metal roof of the warehouse above us rattling as if a hurricane passed overhead. There was a mighty crash, and I turned to see the statues beginning to crumble and fall into the water below.

  “This cannot be! This cannot be!” Seth gazed around in denial.

  The rattling and the crashing became a roar, and the fountain trembled, pieces of rock splashing into the water until it imploded, disappearing as if sucked inwards through an invisible hole. At last it was gone, and the room fell silent.

  “I. Will. End you!”

  Seth towered over me, all vestiges of humanity gone, his reptilian eyes and long, pointed teeth more suited to his green, scaly skin. His suit was in tatters, now that he had hulked out to more than twice the size he was as a man.

  “I will crack your bones and suck the marrow. I will dine on your liver and drink your blood. You will pay for this, you filthy mortal.”

  “Stick and stones, Seth.” I smiled at him and shook my finger, feeling cocky and safe behind my shimmering bubble. “Face it. Your time here is done.”

  “Harry?”

  “Isaac! I’m all right. Hurry!”

  The relief flowed over me when I heard Isaac’s voice in my head. It was a good thing I had already let him take some of my blood before I was kidnapped. Even Nash had agreed it was a necessary precaution, since we couldn’t rely on our telepathic communication if he was in his four-legged form.

  Already I could hear the sounds of fighting as Nash and the rest of the cavalry came to my rescue. They would have known the moment the portal closed because the vampires would have been able to cross the boundary.

  There was a crash as the inner doors to the warehouse were blown off their hinges and a stream of werewolves, all in wolf form, surged in. The imps and other daemons that had been left standing around in confusion when the portal closed, rushed to meet them.

  “You may be safe, but what about your fellow mortals?” Seth growled at me, pulling my attention back to him. He stood in front of me, his hand wrapped around the neck of a middle-aged man. The terrified man struggled in Seth’s grip, his feet dangling above the floor as Seth slowly choked the life out of him.

  “Stop it! This will get you nothing. Your time here is over. Leave him and return to hell.” I shifted uneasily, my circle suddenly feeling small and constrictive. I was helpless, unable to do anything but sit and watch.

  With a look of disdain, Seth tightened his fist around the man’s throat. There was a sickening crack, and the man’s head fell backwards at an impossible angle, his body going limp. For a brief second I saw the man’s spirit flickering beside his body, but then Seth inhaled, and it was sucked up as he tossed the now-lifeless shell away.

  “You can’t win this fight, Seth. Look around you.” I swallowed back the bile, revolted by what Seth had done.

  I glanced out over the warehouse. The werewolves, immune to the glamour of the daemons, were chewing through the ranks of imps. A familiar black wolf grabbed an imp and shook it between his teeth until the imp popped out of existence. The wolf, black ichor on his jowls, raised his head and howled. He was answered by a resounding chorus.

  The vampires were proving just as lethal against the daemons, using their claws and fangs and superhuman strength to tear through the enemy.

  “You may not care about a mere human, but what about your precious Therese?”

  I turned back to stare at Seth in shock. He had his hand wrapped around Tess’s throat.

  “I’m sorry, Harry,” she croaked. “He caught me by surprise.”

  “Tess!” I started to jump to my feet, remembering in time not to break the circle. “Let her go!” I growled at Seth.

  “A trade. You for her. Whose life do you value more?” Seth regarded me and grinned, his forked tongue flickering out between his teeth. He gave Tess a little shake, and she cried out.

  “Stop!” I threw out my hands. “Okay, okay.”

  “Harry, no—”

  “Let her go, and you can have me,” I said, cutting Isaac off from my thoughts. I couldn’t sacrifice Tess, even if it meant my own life. I waved my hand through the circle, and it fell away as quickly as it had formed, allowing me to leap to my feet, my hand reaching for my katana that rested invisible on my back.

  Seth smiled in triumph and tossed Tess at me. I braced to catch her one-handed, but her body never fell. I gaped. It had all been an illusion. He never had Tess!

  While I stood momentarily stunned, Seth lunged at me, knocking my sword away. He grabbed me by the throat and pulled me off my feet, giving me a gleeful shake. I dangled helplessly from his clenched fist, his claws gouging into my throat. He raked his free hand across my chest, ripping through my clothes and tearing through my skin. It stung like a bitch, bleeding profusely, but it was only a minor wound.

  “You’re mine,” he rasped, his tongue flickering between his teeth as he sank his fist into my abdomen, his claws slicing into me like knives. The pain was almost unbearable, the copper smell of my blood filling the air. I hissed, my fangs suddenly appearing, as I tore at his hands, trying to loosen his grip on my throat.

  “Stop!” The voice rang out across the room, its power shaking the rafters above. The warehouse fell silent as the fighting came to a standstill.

  Seth’s deadly grip loosened slightly, and I sucked in a ragged, painful breath, turning my head to see Salvador striding towards us across the warehouse. Mr. Zed, the daemon I had met on my first visit to Wishes, followed in his wake. He clapped his hands twice, and the imps and daemons bowed down to Salvador as he passed.

  “Your daddy can’t save you now. Your soul is mine.” Seth’s tongue flicked out, licking my cheek.

  “I think Hecate might have a thing or two to say about that,” I rasped, lashing out with the small blade I had managed to pull from my pocket. It was irregularly shaped, wrapped carefully on one edge with duct tape, but its exposed edge was extremely sharp. I had taken to carrying it, hidden in the lining of my pocket, after the attack at the grocery store. I brought my arm up between Seth’s outstretched arms, scoring the blade across his face.

  Seth shrieked, tossing me away as his hands flew to his face. Despite being the size of a razor blade, my makeshift weapon had opened a wide furrow across his cheek up to his eye, his green skin oozing black ichor.

  “What have you done to me? What have you done?”

  “You’ve been marked by your brother’s blade, the Dagger of Asar.” I winced, pressing my hands against my side, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

  “No!” Seth’s voice held a note of terror as smoke rose from the rapidly spreading wound and his skin turned a sickly grey. He lowered his hands and looked at me. His eye was melting in its socket even as his flesh decayed and fell from his skull. “You haven’t heard the last of me. You will never be safe from me. I will haunt your dreams and revel in your nightmares, and when you die, I will eat your soul.” With one last hiss, he flicked his tongue at me and then disappeared with a pop, returning to hell where I hoped he died from his wounds.

  I fell back on the floor in relief, my hands pressed to my side. A large black wolf landed beside me, giving me a butt with his head.

  “Nash!”

  He butted me again with his nose, sniffing at my wounds before plopping down on his haunches to look at me and growl.

  “I know, I know,” I replied weakly, reaching up to run my fingers through his sticky, ichor-covered fur. “I brok
e my promise. I’m sorry.” I let out a shaky breath. Nash whined and licked my face.

  “Harry!”

  Isaac strode towards me. He knelt beside Nash, his hands pulling mine away to examine my wounds.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you tried to tell me—”

  “Don’t worry about it now, Harry. Let’s get you fixed up first.”

  “It’s not that bad.” I shifted, trying to sit up. “I can barely feel—Oh! Ow!” I fell back to the floor as pain lanced through me. Nash’s wolf barked in alarm.

  “Try not to move. The wounds are deeper than you think.”

  I nodded, trying to suck in a breath, but the air bubbled in my chest, my lungs refusing to fill. I rasped for air, panicked. Nash leapt to his feet, growling and snapping as my vision started to fade. It felt like I was going to pass out.

  “The demon must have nicked her lung; she’s not getting any oxygen.” Isaac’s voice, despite my panic, sounded calm and clinical.

  There was a commotion and then Salvador and a huge black cat—a panther—appeared beside me. Nash growled, his wolf moving to stand protectively over me.

  “Be at ease, my wolfy friend,” Salvador said. “He can help.”

  The panther hissed and yowled at Nash, sitting back on its haunches. There was a flash of light, and then Max crouched in his place.

  “Hi, Harry,” he said. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

  Salvador laughed heartily. “Well, that certainly lets the cat out of the bag.”

  Epilogue

  “And then they argued about whether or not it would be better to give you vampire blood to heal you or just let Max do it, but you croaked out Max’s name, so they let him heal you,” Tess said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe that Max is a cat. A cat!” She made a funny face. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she looked more than just surprised.

  We were both still shocked by the revelation that Max was a skinwalker, able to take the shape of his totem animal—the black panther, in Max’s case. Nice to know I wasn’t the only special snowflake around. A shaman with both the ability to summon demons and shapeshift? That was about as rare as a half-vampire witch with the gift of necromancy.

  “No wonder Nash thought he smelled funny,” I replied, stuffing another donut in my mouth. It was a BMG—bacon maple glazed—from Dorfman’s. They seemed to be our new tradition for the morning after I almost get killed and end up in the hospital. Although this time, because Max worked his magic, I was at home recuperating instead of in a hospital bed.

  “So, speaking of Nash, is he still mad at you?”

  “Yeah, he’s barely said two words to me. He spent the entire night as a wolf rather than speak to me, I think.” I set my half-eaten donut down, my appetite suddenly gone.

  “I’m sorry, Harry. I feel like it’s my fault.”

  “No way! It is not your fault.” I frowned at her. “I don’t care what I promised Nash, I couldn’t let Seth hurt you, even if it did turn out to be an illusion.”

  Tess crawled up beside me in bed and gave me a hug. She put her head on my shoulder and snuggled up against me. “Well, up until that part, it all went according to plan, if a little ahead of schedule.”

  “Yeah, although I could have done with skipping the Taser part. I don’t remember that being part of the plan.” I took a long, slow breath. Despite being healed, I was still a little sore. I rubbed my chest where the Taser had left a burn. The mark was gone, but I could remember how it felt to have twelve hundred volts coursing through me.

  “So what’s with Salvador and Mr. Zed?” Tess asked. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Neither did I, but no surprise really. Salvador never misses an opportunity to turn a situation to his advantage, and he did say he had an ‘iron in the fire.’” I fingered quoted.

  And, while it was certainly fortuitous that Salvador and Mr. Zed had made some kind of deal giving Mr. Zed and his loyal minions the chance to remain here and serve Salvador in return for turning traitor on Seth, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Wishes being allowed to reopen, even in a modified, less deadly form.

  “Can we go back to the ‘Max is a cat’ part?” I asked Tess, giving her a pointed look. “What’s going on with you and him?”

  Tess squirmed beside me, grabbing a pillow and covering her head with it. “Heeb by bait,” she said, her voice muffled to the point of being incomprehensible.

  “What?” I laughed, pulling the pillow from her face. “Say that again.”

  “Crap, Harry. Isn’t it obvious?” Tess let out a loud sigh. “I think he’s my mate.”

  ***

  Thank you for reading Hell to Pay. I love writing about Harry’s adventures and I hope you have fun reading them too. As an independent author, I rely on word of mouth to help sell books. If you are so inclined, please consider leaving a review online at your favourite bookseller’s website.

  My gratitude also goes out to my editor, Sasha Knight. Without you there would be so many homeless commas. Please note that I take full responsibility for any mistakes that remain.

  A final shout-out to Isabella, my go-to girl when I had some questions about Catholic Mass. Thanks, Izzy!

  Want to know if there is more in store for Harry? Don’t miss a thing! Keep up with all the news and receive exclusive offers and content by joining my mailing list. Visit my website at www.lisaemme.com and sign up today!

  Cheers! Lisa

  About the Author

  Lisa Emme is a Canadian who proudly ends her ABC’s with ‘zed’. A self-professed book-a-holic, she has spent the last few years trying to stem her book hoarding tendencies by writing her own stories and by avoiding the bargain table at the bookstore like the plague.

  A bit of a thrill seeker, Lisa has tried such death defying activities as bungy jumping off a bridge in New Zealand and rappelling down the side of a 17 storey building. She’s also single-handedly raising a teenager.

  Lisa has worked as a veterinary assistant, playground instructor, bank teller, store clerk, waitress, telephone solicitor, research writer for an environmental think tank, computer programmer, and systems analyst. Her passion however is writing. What else is she going to do during the long, cold prairie winter?

  Lisa would love to hear from you. Drop her a line at lisa.emme@mymts.net or you can find her online:

  www.lisaemme.com

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  The Harry Russo Diaries

  Join Harry in her earlier adventures and find out how it all began. Available at your favourite authorized retailer.

  Dead and Kicking - The Harry Russo Diaries, volume 1

  What’s a girl to do when her date is D.O.A?

  Angharad ‘Harry’ Russo is just your ordinary twenty-something, with one exception - she’s a witch with an out of the ordinary gift. When her blind date goes sideways and she ends up face to face with a dead body, her life starts to go sideways too.

  It’s a case of werewolves and vampires and zombies - oh my! with Harry right in the middle of the mayhem having to deal with Cian Nash, a homicide detective that is as aggravating as he is sexy; the biggest, baddest vampire in town; and a parcel of pesky zombies that keep popping up everywhere. It’s all connected to her date’s unfortunate demise or is there more to it?

  Tooth and Claw - The Harry Russo Diaries, volume 2

  Q: When is a witch, not a witch?

  A: When she`s a necromancer.

  Harry Russo has had to adjust to some major changes in her life. Her computer is haunted, she accidentally acquired a vampire servant and she’s attracted to the most aggravating alpha male on the planet. Her friend betrayed her, a lunatic tried to sacrifice her to raise a god and she accidentally ‘outed’ herself to the Magister, the most powerful vampire in town. What else could go wrong? Oh yeah, she’s just discovered that her father was a vampire and her dhamphiric powers are emerging prematurely.
Poor Harry doesn’t know what weird ability could pop up next.

  When werewolves start to go missing and two young ‘norms’ die suspiciously, not to mention horrifically, Harry believes it’s all connected. It could be just a hunch, or it could be the big grey wolf that stepped out of her dreams to haunt her waking moments, but Harry knows that she needs to help get to the bottom of things. Now if she could just convince the sexy police detective, Cian Nash, to take her seriously.

  Deadlocked - The Harry Russo Diaries, volume 3

  When life gives you brownies, make coffee.

  Angharad ‘Harry’ Russo has had a busy week. She’s fended off a swarm of pixies, battled blood-thirsty redcaps and put an end to a maniacal Fae prince hell-bent on eradicating the entire werewolf population. She’s also decided to open a coffee shop. Is it too much to ask for things to settle down so her life can go back to normal?

  Apparently it is. As if being metaphysically bound to Cian Nash, the most aggravating yet desirable man she’s ever met, isn’t enough, Harry’s just found out that the Magister, the scariest, most powerful vampire around, is her father. Talk about your daddy issues!

  Harry just wants to concentrate on getting the coffee shop open, but between the freaky ghosts that keep haunting her and rogue vampires terrorizing the city, it looks like normal is a thing of the past.

  Also by Lisa Emme

  Home Again

  They say you can’t go home again. Allie Daniels hopes they are wrong, whoever they are. After a series of misfortunes, she and her small son have come home to the town she thought she had left behind. She’s just looking for a safe place to raise her son. The last thing she wants is any more complications.

  Mike Finn didn’t roll into town on his Harley looking for love; he just wants to find a place to call home. Hoping to escape the fast-paced, anonymous life in the city, he’s bought a partnership in the local veterinarian practice. The small town has a lot to offer – especially after a chance encounter with Allie.