Pretty Dark Sacrifice

by Heather L. Reid

  And you can return the blade to its rightful owner once this mess is over.

  Azrael swallowed his defiant thoughts and nodded.

  I will scout Jeff’s house one more time before we leave. The eclipse will be upon us in a little over an hour. Timing is everything.

  Quinn nodded. Thank you, Azrael.

  He squared his shoulders, stepped onto the windowsill, and walked straight through the glass, his onyx wings absorbing the sunrise as he flew across the horizon.

  “Hey, Blondie, I made you some coffee.” Quinn turned and took a large cup from Caleb.

  “Thanks, Meathead,” she said. “And thanks for helping with this mess.” With Caleb, she didn’t have to explain anything; he understood in a way Reese and Marcus never could.

  “You’re welcome.” He picked up her favorite fuzzy blanket off the floor and draped it around her shoulders, his hands lingering a little longer than they should. “I always wondered why I had this weird ability. Now I know. Everything I’ve seen has been to prepare me for this moment. Our meeting wasn’t by chance. I feel it with every fiber of my being.”

  “Aaron said the same thing. Look what happened to him.” She watched the curling steam rise from her mug.

  “Aaron didn’t know what I know.” Quinn felt Caleb’s desire, a side effect of boosting his ability and becoming so familiar with his essence. She tried to deflect his emotions, but it wasn’t so easy. Caleb was an open book. Either he didn’t know how to hide, or he didn’t want to. Conflict churned within him. Part of him wondered if he would have a chance at something more than friendship if Aaron didn’t make it back while another part hated himself for daring to wish such a thing.

  He fought the urge to run his fingers through her hair and kiss her in case everything went horribly wrong and he never had another chance. Quinn couldn’t blame him. His embrace would be a comfort to her, too, but that’s all it would ever be—a comfort and nothing more. She remembered what happened the last time she had turned to easy solace.

  “I care about you, Caleb.” Quinn shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her. “But I can’t.”

  “I know. Strictly friend zone.” Caleb patted her shoulder and settled in her rocking chair. “We’ll get him back, Blondie.” The wooden rockers creaked against the floor. “But if you see any hot, single girls trapped down there in Bar Underworld, bring one back for me, okay?”

  “Just call me your Underworld wingman.” Quinn smiled, glad the tension between them settled back to normal.

  “You sure you don’t want to grab a cat nap?” Caleb rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I can keep watch.”

  Quinn shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to.”

  “What time is it?” Reese yawned and pulled the covers off Marcus and onto herself, leaving his torso bare.

  Quinn looked at the clock. “Seven thirty.”

  Reese groaned. “I feel like I’ve been punched in the head by a gorilla.”

  Marcus let out a loud snore, and Reese elbowed him in the chest. “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

  Marcus snorted and bolted upright. “Demons? Where? I’m ready.”

  “No demons.” Not yet anyway. Quinn watched as shadows danced beneath the canopy of the big oak outside. She counted at least half a dozen.

  “Good, I don’t think I can face them without a cup of coffee,” Reese said, unaware of the gathering darkness.

  “I made a fresh pot.” As if sensing her unease, Caleb joined Quinn at the window. His right arm twitched against his side, and he grabbed the Qeres dagger from the nightstand and handed it to Quinn.

  “You are a god, Caleb. I think we’ll keep you around,” Reese said.

  “Oh! And don’t forget the doughnuts,” Marcus added.

  “Is food the only thing you think about?” Reese stretched and pulled back her long, black hair and secured it with an elastic band she kept around her wrist.

  “Not the only thing.” Marcus arched his eyebrow and winked at Reese. “Want to join me for a shower?”

  “Maybe another time.”

  “Your loss.”

  “Towels are kept in the hallway closet,” Quinn said.

  “What about your mom?” Marcus asked.

  “I don’t think she’ll want to shower with you either,” Quinn said.

  “No, I mean won’t she wonder why there’s a strange man in your shower?”

  “She left for work about an hour ago.” Quinn wondered if she should have said goodbye, just in case.

  “And she didn’t even make you pancakes?” Marcus shook his head.

  Not pancakes, but waffles with fresh strawberries, and not her mom, but her dad. Before he’d left and everything had changed. Quinn shrugged. “Welcome to my life. It’s no big deal, really.”

  “Well I think it’s a big deal. Reese will make you pancakes, won’t you?”

  “My mom always said a man’s place is in the kitchen.” Reese crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I make a wicked omelet,” Caleb offered. “I’m sure I saw some eggs in the fridge.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about! If my girlfriend wasn’t in the room, I would kiss you.” Marcus winked.

  “Maybe later.” Caleb puckered his lips and made kissing noises. They both laughed.

  “Man, it’s good to have another guy to joke around with.” Marcus clapped Caleb on the back. “You’re all right with me, Caleb, and when we get Aaron back, we will finally outnumber team estrogen.” Marcus grabbed a towel and sang his way out the doorway and into the shower.

  “Four omelets and coffee coming right up.” Caleb followed Marcus out of the room.

  “You better not be joining my boyfriend in the shower!” Reese called, a grin as wide as the Grand Canyon on her face.

  Quinn wanted to remember this moment—Marcus joking, Caleb’s grin, Reese full of giggles. It might be the last time they would be together, and she didn’t want her last thoughts of her best friends to be gloom and doom.

  “Are you sure this plan will work?” Reese pulled her green hoodie over a white tank top and folded her legs under her.

  “Absolutely!” Quinn hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. “I’ll open the door to the Underworld, and Azrael will take me through it. I’ll pretend to be his prisoner. I’ll distract Lilith, and Azrael will free Aaron. Then I kill Lilith, and we all come home.” Quinn snapped her fingers. “No blood, no screams, no opening the box. Simple.”

  Guilt pinched at her gut. She shouldn’t drag either of them into this, but Azrael insisted they would be safe as long as they stayed within the protective runes. Besides, Caleb would be there to keep watch, Qeres dagger at hand. Azrael made sure to stress how important their role was, their love for Quinn would tether her to the human realm and help her find her way back. Besides, it’s not like they could follow her into the Underworld. They needed to stay in the house, inside the protective runes, and wait. She would be through the portal, and they would wait for her to come back through, safe in the human realm.

  “I wish we could do more. Where is Azrael anyway?”

  At the sound of his name, Azrael shimmered before them.

  “Good morning, Az.” Reese threw a pillow at him, and he drew his golden blade, cutting it in half, feathers flying everywhere.

  “Hey, that was my favorite one.” Quinn shook her head.

  “We have had this discussion before. My name is Azrael, not Angel Boy, or Az, or anything other than my full name. Please tell your friends to stop calling me by that stupid nickname.”

  “Okay, as long as you try to be nice.”

  The light burning beneath Azrael’s skin dimmed, and he furrowed his brow. “As you wish.” He bowed deeply. “You are awfully cheery for a girl who is about to travel into the Underworld and risk the whole of humanity as well as her life and those of her friends.”

  “The plan will work.” Fake it ’til you make it. That�
��s what Marcus had said, and that’s what she did.

  “I can get you in and back out again alive, but you have to trust me. Have you practiced blocking? Lilith is powerful. One slip, and she will see the ruse.”

  “Ruse?” Reese laughed.

  “Please tell your friend if she spent less time listening to that horrible screeching you call music and more time reading a book, she wouldn’t think ‘ruse’ to be such a strange word.”

  “I can hear you now, ya know,” Reese said.

  Azrael narrowed his eyes. “You promised,” he said to Quinn.

  Quinn shrugged. “Whatever I did to change their essences made you visible to them all the time now. Nothing I can do about it.”

  “I don’t like it,” Azrael said.

  “You don’t like anything,” Quinn replied.

  “What did I miss?” Marcus ran a towel over his head and dumped it on the floor.

  Quinn cleared her throat and pointed to the laundry basket in the corner.

  “Women,” he grumbled, wadded the towel, and tossed it like a basketball. “Two points for Marcsexy.”

  “Does he really have to come with us?” Azrael asked.

  “Where she goes, we go, so get used to it,” Reese said.

  Azrael ignored Reese and turned to Quinn. “I have patrolled the neighborhood around the house. If you go down the back alleyway, you can hop the fence and into the backyard.”

  “Is it locked? How do we get in?”

  “Immortals don’t use doors.”

  “That’s comforting,” Marcus said.

  “Did you get everything we need?” Azrael asked Marcus. “Candles, mirror, salt, permanent marker.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Caleb and I put it all in the Jeep last night. Speaking of Caleb, where’s my omelet?”

  Quinn pursed her lips and shivered when the sun disappeared behind the blackest cloud she’d ever seen and turned morning into dusk.

  “We’ve got company, Blondie,” Caleb called up the stairs

  Quinn ran to the window. Shadows slithered from the trees and pushed through the grass at the edge of the drive like corpse hands.

  “Why now?” Quinn grasped her dagger a little tighter and turned to Azrael.

  “A pre-emptive strike to show her strength.”

  “Hey, what’s your mom doing home so early?” Reese asked.

  “Crap, what day is today?” Quinn’s mother’s Mercedes pulled into the circle drive.

  “Thursday, the seventh. Why?”

  Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose. A car door slammed, and her father stepped from the passenger side and into the middle of a nest of demons.

  “Great, just what we don’t need. I told her I didn’t want him here.” Slamming her own car door, her mother stomped over to the trunk and began pulling out his suitcase. Once it was in her hands, her father grabbed it from her and said something nasty. To retaliate, her mother flung the car keys at her father’s feet and cursed him. They yelled obscenities back and forth when a baby started screaming from the backseat.

  A baby. He had brought her half-brother, Jacob, with him. Jealousy and hurt ate at Quinn’s heart, turning it bitter, and she suddenly wanted to rip him from the car seat, put him in a box, and ship him back to his mother in California. Quinn shook her head. That wasn’t what she wanted; the demons were getting to her, confusing her.

  Your shield, Azrael warned. It was then she realized nothing stood between her and the darkness. Digging deep, she pushed the bubble of light up and around her, making sure to encompass Marcus, Reese, and Caleb. The demons were multiplying exponentially now, spreading up and out from their yard to the next, and the next, and the next, swathing the entire neighborhood in gray.

  “Azrael.” Before she completed her thought, he was through the window and out in the yard, swords drawn, ready for a fight.

  “What’s happening?” Reese asked.

  “You don’t want to know,” Caleb answered. “We need to go. Now.” He grabbed the Jeep keys from Quinn’s desk and tossed them to Marcus.

  “Stay close, and they won’t be able to get to you.” Quinn raced down the stairs and out the front door, Caleb, Marcus, and Reese on her heels.

  Caleb ducked as a vase broke through their neighbor’s window, sailed past his head, and crashed into a million mosaic pieces against the doorframe. A large, black lab streaked past Quinn and headed for the safety of some bushes. Horns honked, people poured from their houses, neighbors screamed at one another, children clawed at their siblings, drawing blood. Alarms blared, and everywhere she turned, demons fed on the chaos, leeches sucking at pain and anger. The more they fed, the bigger they got, and the more bedlam they created.

  “What do we do?” Marcus clamped his hands to his ears.

  Quinn’s mind raced. There was no way she could protect all these people. Azrael stood at the end of the driveway, slashing and tearing through demons as fast as he could, but for every one he took down, three more appeared. His voice rang out to the heavenly host, and a flock of at least a hundred angels streaked across the sky, a rainbow of wings shimmering as they joined Azrael in the fight, Qeres blades hungry to find and kill their enemies, but even at that, they were outnumbered at least ten to one. And this was only the beginning. The box wasn’t even open.

  “Hey, Blondie, I think we need a little help here.” Two smoky demons tethered themselves to Quinn’s mother, long needle fingers stabbing her through the back, sucking the anger from her like greedy children. Quinn grabbed her mother’s arm, working to push her barrier out to encompass her like she had in the kitchen, but her mother was too far gone. Turning back on Quinn with inky eyes, she shoved her hard, knocking her to the ground.

  “Don’t touch my daughter.” Her father took two big steps around the car, grabbed her mother by the wrist, and twisted, ignoring Jacob’s increasing screams from the back seat. He couldn’t see the dark demon tapping the window, searching for a crack to get to Jacob, too, but Quinn could. She looked at her parents, then at her brother.

  “Quinn, do something,” Reese begged, her voice quivering.

  Do what? There were too many, they were too strong. The angels were engaged on all sides. Azrael fought to hold as many back as possible, but even he was losing ground. She was one girl. She would fail, and they would all die. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck as an overwhelming sense of hopelessness dragged at her limbs. She couldn’t do this. The sound of another piercing scream snapped her out of her bleakness. Jacob stared at the demon as it scratched at the glass. He banged his little fist on the window. She could feel his fear—intense, confused. No. It couldn’t be. He could see them too, just like her. Anger pulsed through her essence. Jacob, so small, so innocent. He didn’t deserve to grow up as one of Lilith’s slaves. She had to try, if not for herself, for him.

  Quinn ran forward, Qeres dagger at the ready, and slashed the poison blade through the demon tormenting her sibling through the window. Then she wrenched the door open and grabbed her brother from his seat, surrounding him in her protective barrier. She bounced him on her hip, whispering softly in his ear, and he clung to her, small hands digging into her shirt, tear-soaked cheeks buried in her neck.

  “Shhhhh, Jake. You’re safe,” she cooed until he quieted.

  On the other side of the car, her mother now had her hands around her father’s throat, squeezing as hard as she could, his face turning blue. Quinn handed Jake into Marcus’s waiting arms and took off running.

  “There, there, little man. It’ll be okay. Your sister’s going to kick some demon butt, and she’ll be right back.” Marcus tickled Jake’s chin, and he laughed.

  Taking a chance, Caleb grabbed Quinn’s mother from behind. Mrs. Taylor kicked and screamed as he pried her off Quinn’s father, who fell to his knees and crawled away, coughing and dragging in ragged breaths. Mrs. Taylor bit Caleb on the arm to try to get away, but he gritted his teeth and held tight.

  “She’s too s
trong.” Caleb moved his arms down and away from her mouth, pinning her arms to her sides. “You better do something fast. I don’t think I can hold her.”

  Quinn rubbed her hands together, letting the heat of her power build inside her. She needed to focus and force this beast to reveal its name, but there were so many demons around, it was hard to get a fix on any individual identity. As she approached, her mother thrashed against Caleb, butting her head backward, trying to smash his face. Caleb’s muscles rippled as he wrestled her to the ground and pinned her against the concrete.

  “Hurry,” Caleb urged.

  Behind Quinn, something growled, soft and low. She spun to see inky eyes staring up from her father’s face.

  “Dad. It’s me.” She took a step back, palms up. “It’s Quinn.”

  Then he pounced, quick as a jaguar, fierce as a lion. Quinn was crushed beneath his weight as he slammed into her. They went down, a tangle of arms and legs, onto the lawn. Her head snapped back, skull hitting the grass with a dull thud. Her father grunted and scratched at her skin as they rolled. She tried to gain the upper hand, but, fueled by hate and demon energy, he was much stronger than she was. Quinn’s heart raced, a stampede of horses in her chest, as he pinned her to the ground, his tall frame looming above her. This monster was not her father, not anymore. A hand clenched like a vise around her throat. He was going to kill her.

  Before he could squeeze, Reese launched onto his back, wrapping around his neck. Just the distraction she needed. Quinn’s muscles tensed, and she turned to run, but she wasn’t fast enough. As if Reese weighed nothing, he threw her to the ground, caught Quinn by the ankle, and dragged her through the grass. Mud and dirt lodged beneath her fingernails as she scrambled to get away from him, but his iron grip held her tight. Quinn screamed as he shoved a knee in her back, lifted her head up by the hair, and pressed her face into a pile of ants. A thousand tiny legs crawled across her cheek, up her neck, around her ears, her skin on fire with their venom.

  “Azrael, do something!” Quinn heard Reese yell.

  And then the pressure was gone, and she was free. Quinn leapt to her feet and ripped the black hoodie from her body, throwing it to the ground and slapping at the ants crawling on her skin and in her hair until each one was dead. Tears streamed down her face, breaths coming in big gulps, heart kicking her ribcage. Azrael held her father, clothes ripped, mud streaking his face, in a vise grip. Beside them, her mother stood, blue eyes glassy and unfocused.