Dark shapes swarmed her, crawling over her body, sucking at her essence. Azrael’s swords glowed and arched as he hacked away at them, but they kept coming, swarming him, pushing him back, and separating her from her protector one inch at a time.
Marcus rushed to her side, confused at seeing his friend flung around by an invisible force. Quinn shook her head in warning, too late. A hooded figure rose behind him and plunged a dark hand straight into this heart, stopping him cold. Black pupils ate all the white around his eyes as the demon forced its way inside, possessing him.
“I should have saved him that night, not you. You should have been left to rot at the bottom of the river.” It was Marcus’s voice, but with all the usual warmth and charm drained from the tone. Reese and Jenna circled in from the other side.
You are but one, we are many. Reese’s lips curled into a snarl. She knelt next to Quinn, eyes full of ink. The demon had a full hold on her now. It cocked her best friend’s head.
Leave her alone. Quinn squirmed and kicked against her misty bonds.
You all called us here, and we came at your invitation. Do not be a bad hostess. Let us feed. We are so hungry.
You want to feed? Take me, but leave her alone. I have so much more to give than she does. Can’t you feel it? Quinn stopped struggling and brought all her emotions to the surface. The pain of it was almost unbearable, but she lay perfectly still and didn’t hold anything back.
Reese leaned into Quinn and sniffed her neck. So dark, so good.
It was working. Quinn sensed the demon’s greed, and she drew on all the pain and sadness that had leaked into the cemetery’s soil. So much death, so many loved ones lost. Tragedy, anger—she took it all in and fed it back to the demons. None of them could resist. Drunk on the darkness spilling from Quinn, they surrounded her on all sides to lap it up. Ink spilled from Reese’s mouth, and she fell to the ground as the demon abandoned her friend’s body to seize on Quinn’s misery.
Distracted, the ropes holding her wrists loosened, and Quinn inched toward the glowing dagger to her right. Fingers brushed the handle. She might be a killer, but so were they. Aaron’s death was as much their fault as it was hers, and they would pay. Never again would she let them control her, let them turn her into a whining wreck of a girl. The shadows shimmered and vibrated as she harnessed the thought of Aaron sinking to his death, his sacrifice, his ultimate love.
The dagger slammed into the center of the beast that had possessed Reese. It hissed and dissipated into wisps of smoke. This woke the others from their food coma, and they started to back away from her in confusion. Azrael seized the opportunity, his sword taking down at least half a dozen beasts in seconds.
Now. While they’re distracted.
Three breaths brought up her armor, and she sprang into a crouch, dagger at the ready.
The atmosphere around Quinn crackled with her one wish—to kill them all. Fixing her glare on the shadow to her right, she held it suspended with her mind. It squirmed against her power, pushing to free itself, looking for a crack in her barrier. She felt its malicious intent. Its fear tangled with loathing.
Killing us won’t bring the boy back. No one is safe from his fate. He has gone to meet my maker. A soul for a soul. Yours for his. A soul for a soul. Dead is dead.
It laughed. Quinn gritted her teeth and pinned its dark essence against a crumbling headstone with nothing but a thought, its name coming to her lips as if she’d known it her whole life.
Call it by name, finish it, Azrael urged.
“Erithea.” She pointed at the shadow hanging in mid-air and released her anger at the beast. “Go to hell.” A beam of light exploded from the tips of Quinn’s fingers, piercing Erithea and cutting his morbid life short.
Quinn’s heart pounded against her ribs. The kickback of expending all that pent up emotion rattled her. She had banished a demon. Satisfaction twisted her lips into a wicked grin as she sank to the ground, all her energy spent. So that was what she could do.
Seething hate emanated from the remaining demons as they fled in the wake of her power and the tip of Azrael’s sword.
Chapter Twelve
“Quinn,” Aaron rasped her name and swallowed the bits of gravel lodged in his throat. Only the echo of water droplets hitting rock answered him. She wasn’t there, never had been. The portals, his funeral, Quinn, it was nothing but a dream, a nightmare. He was back where he started.
A fever, that was all. The fire inside died, leaving nothing but a hollow husk of skin and bone lying face down and shivering, spread-eagle against the cold stone beneath him. Every inch of Aaron’s body felt bruised and weak as his awareness returned, nerve-by-nerve. How long had he been lying here? Days? Minutes?
Ignoring the situation won’t make it go away. If you don’t try, you’ll never find a way out of this mess. What did Mom always say? Seeing the problem is the first step to finding a solution. Stop being a coward.
It took all his strength to force his eyes open, his lids ripping from the tender cornea. He blinked in the moist, cool air until the irritating particles washed away in a flood of salty tears. When the streaming stopped, and he regained focus, all he saw was an endless void of darkness spinning out before him.
Oh, my God! I’m blind! I’m blind and alone and probably bleeding and broken. Shit. I knew it. His heart rattled against his chest, and his lungs constricted.
Don’t panic. It’s dark. That’s all. It doesn’t mean you’re blind. You have to move, or you’ll die here.
And how am I supposed to do that when I can’t see a hair in front of me! His thoughts fractured into two opposing sides, the optimist and the pessimist. Not to mention the fact that I used up all my energy opening my eyes.
Don’t panic. It’s not that bad.
Not that bad? Really? How could it be worse?
You could be nothing.
At least if I were nothing, I wouldn’t be so afraid.
Arguing with himself seemed crazy, but it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. He had nobody else to rely on or to council with.
That’s a laugh. Don’t you remember how terrified you were the last time you died? This doesn’t feel anything like that. If we’re dead, where’s the light?
He doubted there would be any lights in hell but pushed away the thought as soon as it reared its head. Metaphorically, hell was exactly where he was right now.
Listen. There’s water dripping in the distance. The water must be getting in from somewhere. So if there was a way in, there’s a way out.
Yes. Yes. His thoughts finally made sense, worked together.
Aaron shivered. Not a scrap of clothing covered his body. Whatever happened to him stripped him of every stitch, as well as his dignity. In a different situation, he might have been embarrassed, but he was too exhausted and frightened to care. He would worry about clothes later. For now, he had to get moving and get out.
His neck, stiff from lying in the same position for too long, tingled and ached as he scraped his cheek against the rough stone. A musty mix of rusted metal and salt filled his nostrils. The smell of mustiness and stale air reminded him of home, of his father lying on the couch after drinking all night, the curtains drawn tight. But he wasn’t home. The stone floor beneath his naked flesh proved that. Did his dad even miss him? Did Josh? Would he ever see home again?
You won’t if you don’t stay focused.
Giving up wasn’t an option. Panting, he struggled again to shift the lead weights of his arms splayed out over his head, but they wouldn’t budge. They remained stuck to the floor, heavy and useless. He might as well try to move a mountain.
Light flickered in the distance. He could make out the halo around a flame, an orange eye staring at him from the blackness.
“Hello?” Aaron’s voice was rough and low. “Is anyone there?”
Whispers hushed and shushed around him, soft and ominous, but he couldn’t tell exactly where they cam
e from.
“Please, help me. I need help.”
If he didn’t get their attention, they might miss him. Determined, he gritted his teeth and concentrated his efforts. He stretched the fingers of his right hand, then the left. A moan escaped his lips, and he sucked in his breath as pins and needles danced across his nerves.
Metal scraped and clanged against stone as he dragged his right arm in toward his body. Panic knotted his empty belly, and he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Something bit into his wrists, weighing him down, restricting his movement. He scrambled backward, the clatter following him. Something cold and wet scraped against his leg, a chain. Shackles bound each wrist and ankle. He grunted and tried to tug them free, but the more he fought against them, the tighter they held him.
A scream so raw with anger and despair surged up from his gut and exploded from his throat. He screamed and clawed at the ground in a red rage until he collapsed. Exhausted and defeated, he curled into a ball and stared at the flame winking in the distance, teasing him, taunting him. His stomach clenched in spasm after spasm, and he prayed for death to take him, to save him from this misery.
“Even death can’t save you now, Kaemon.” Aaron flinched as a finger traced his spine, ice-cold, dangerous. “It’s too late for that,” a voice whispered in his ear.
He whipped his head around, his bindings a harsh clang in the gloom, but she was quick, a shadow moving in the corner of his eye.
“Your souls weren’t welcome in any of the other realms, too twisted, a human-angel hybrid abomination. Where would you go?” Her voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. “Even The Light wouldn’t have you. But don’t worry; I’ve made room for you here, my pet.” Something rattled his chains, tugging at his wrists. “An exception for the exceptional.”
“Who are you? Where am I?” Aaron demanded.
“Home, of course.” A ring of fire exploded around him, and he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. “Welcome to the Underworld.”
Torches lined the circular platform on which he sat. Two identical skulls with curved horns and long bony snouts sat atop two ten-foot-high metal spikes. The spikes stood roughly six feet apart in the center of the circular platform. The chains binding his wrists looped through the empty eye sockets, around an iron ring attached to the nose cavity, and back out their mouths like lolling iron tongues. Each chain coiled down to the floor, leaving him enough slack that he could pace the length and breadth of his prison and no more. The platform had no walls. Instead, three hundred and sixty degrees of edge plummeted downward into a bottomless pit. A domed cave ceiling soared three stories above in a sweeping arch, making him dizzy. The small stone island in the middle of a sea of ink and air trapped him. Deep red marks stained the floor in drips and splatters reminding him of a Jackson Pollok painting he’d once seen at the museum with his mother. Aaron shivered, wondering whose blood had been there before his own.
“Don’t worry your pretty head about that just now, my pet.” A woman stood before him, a dark hood obscuring her face. Shadows draped her curvy frame, knitting together to form a tight-fitting corset and long flowing skirt. The floor-length cape seemed to whisper and move like smoke. Within the fabric, faces appeared as if emerging from a murky pond. Empty sockets stared back at him, a thin layer of skin muffling their cries and moans, each face more tortured and twisted than the next.
“Don’t stare too long, lest you join them, my pet.” She flipped the fabric, and it rippled and stilled as if by her command, the faces dissolving back into the fabric.
“What do you want from me?” He strained against his manacles. “Who are you?”
“Don’t you remember me, Kaemon? I’m hurt.” She pouted.
Aaron gasped as she pushed back the hood. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful. Curly raven hair cascaded across her shoulders and past her waist. Skin so perfect and cold she could have been made of marble. Her eyes glowed as if lit from behind, slices of iced silver ringed her black pupil.
“Lilith.” The name sighed from his tongue, a remnant of an ancient memory.
“See, I knew you could never forget my face, old friend. Not after everything we’ve been through together.” She paced along the edge of the circle, extinguishing and relighting the torches with a flick of her hand. “You don’t really remember though, do you? Not with that mortal soul leaching onto your essence, getting in your way, holding you back from your true self?” She stopped and studied him. “How did it feel to be tricked by one of your own? We’d heard rumors that you’d fallen, Kaemon, for the love of your ward. That’s what they get for trying to tame an Elite and make him a Sentinel. I couldn’t believe it when my minions brought back word that Azrael poisoned you with your own Qeres blade and trapped you inside the mortal body of a dying boy.” Lilith smiled a cold, hard smile. “I didn’t think he had it in him. Such treachery from one who serves The Light, don’t you think?”
Aaron lunged for her, but the manacles tightened around his wrist, the slack taken up by an unseen force, pulling him back enough to keep her just out of reach. He raged and kicked until metal bit into flesh.
“Ah, there’s the fight that saved you both. How else could such souls fuse together, if not for a common desire to live? Two essences, one angel, one human, sloughed off each of their afflicted parts, then fused what was left together to form a healthy hybrid essence in the body of a mortal teenager. It’s quite the bedtime tale.”
Aaron, Kaemon, he held a part of both of them inside. The realization sent shockwaves through him all over again, and if he’d had anything at all in his stomach, he would have vomited.
“Your thirst for survival is renowned in the realms, Kaemon. Too bad it couldn’t help you in the end. Killed by the very thing you wanted to live for, love, very poetic. You had no idea what you guarded, or you would never have left her alone and vulnerable. More’s the pity.”
An image of Quinn falling into the river slid across his mind like a key sliding into a lock, and the door to his memories yawned open, waiting for him to step through. The realization that he’d been Quinn’s Sentinel blew his world apart. He’d been sent to protect her, and he’d failed every time. It seemed to be the only thing he was good at, failing.
Kaemon had left her at the mercy of those demons, chasing a myth that he could become human when he was supposed to be protecting her. Instead, Kaemon had left her alone and vulnerable to their influence. He was the reason for her pain, the reason she’d jumped into the river in the first place. Aaron hated Kaemon, his selfish nature, his obsession with Quinn, his failure of duty.
You are Kaemon.
No. I’m Aaron.
Are you?
I didn’t turn my back on her.
“Didn’t you? Over petty teenage jealousy?” Lilith replied to his thoughts once again. “Oh the drama of the modern high school. Their angst is so yummy, each mean word or whispered hateful thought can sustain my army for months. The perfect feeding ground.”
Aaron covered his ears, replaying the last few minutes of Quinn’s rescue over in his head. A black-winged angel, Azrael, stood over her, an evil smirk on his face. The idea of Quinn lying broken and pale on that slab of black rock ripped his heart open.
“Oh, don’t worry; your precious Quinn is very much alive. Azrael saw to that. Azrael fulfilled your duty as Sentinel. His sacrifice will not go unpunished and neither will Kaemon’s previous crimes against me.” Her lips twisted into an evil grin. Anger flooded him, the metallic and bitter taste for vengeance hot on his tongue.
“Don’t blame me. It was Azrael’s blade across your throat that finally put an end to your mortal frame, but don’t fret. The good news is that Qeres only affects immortals, not humans, and since you are both, your human side absorbed the poison, leaving your essence intact.” Dragging the Qeres blade across Aaron’s throat should have finished the job Azrael had failed to complete, but if Lilith were telling the truth, his human
side saved the immortal but damned him to a realmless existence.
“You should be grateful. I saved you from a life wandering in the void. There is no place in the realms for an essence like yours. Maybe not so lucky for the human side of you, though.”
How had she read his mind?
“Telepathy, a gift all immortals share,” she answered his thought.
An immortal’s gift, Kaemon’s, the reason he’d been able to read other people when he touched them. Aaron’s heart hammered against his chest. Aaron’s connection to Quinn wasn’t chance. It was the reason he couldn’t let her go, couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was Kaemon all along, seeking her out. His psychic gift must be Kaemon’s, too. Which part of him was human and which angel? Was there any part of him that was fully human?
“I’m sure Azrael’s taking good care of her. Better than you. He’s not the least bit distracted by her short cheerleading skirt. I hoped he wouldn’t be so good at his job.”
Aaron strained against his bindings again, the metal rattling in defiance. “Where is she?”
“Safe. For now. I can help you get back to her. All I need is for you to tell me where the box of Agathe is hidden.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Aaron’s mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls.
Lilith narrowed her eyes, the sides of her grimace twitching as she considered him carefully. “No. I don’t believe that you do. Not yet, anyway. It seems that even he doesn’t trust you with the whole story. Isn’t that right, Kaemon? The box may be hidden to me, but not to Kaemon. I tried the easy way, to guide you there gently, but you both resist. He knows where it is, and he’s the one who took it from me. Weren’t you, my sweet? I aim to get it back, Kaemon.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“The great warrior Kaemon, reduced to nothing but a half-mortal child squabbling with himself over his own identity. I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.” She lifted a finger, her long silver nail biting into the skin beneath his chin. He swallowed, standing at her command, mesmerized by her beauty until they were face to face. “I’m not talking to you, child. He’s in there, though. I can see him in the depths of your green eyes.
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