‘It’s okay, Hella. Now that we know where you are, we can get to you. Oh, earth-mover!’ He called. Tommy appeared within seconds, his orange hair bright enough to stick out through the dust.
‘Oh, thank the stars.’ Tommy reached through the small gap to hold her hand, clearly relieved. ‘Hella you need to go back inside, stay with Harrow, and I’ll clear this mess, okay?’ Tommy said. Hella nodded and crawled back down to Harrow. His eyes were closed, but she cradled his head anyway.
‘It’s going to be okay, Harrow.’ She shielded him as Tommy Terra used his earth magic to wrench away the rocks and cement in easy swiping motions. They must have been searching everywhere, but even the basement was a labyrinth of pathways, and the building housed hundreds of people. There were a lot of places to look.
Hella felt her eyes falling shut and wondered how long they had been down there. The last thing she saw was Harrow’s pale, still face as she passed out, hitting her cheek on a sharp rock.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Immego
‘I can’t believe you managed to trick a demon,’ Immego said, holding the creature at knifepoint.
‘He wanted an easy snack, so I let him think that’s what I was.’ Jacqueline smirked. She had scratched it with her Deme blade and the demon made a terrible screeching sound. It knew to be afraid of their weapons now. Jackie pulled out a leather whip she had created, with a Mark-made crystal at the handle. She used it to tie up the demon who was in human form. He looked like a petulant teenager, his hands bound behind his back. He was dishevelled and angry-looking with demon-black eyes.
‘What if he tries to go into mist-form?’ Immego whispered to her.
‘It can’t.’ Jackie smiled. ‘The weapons prevent it. It already tried.’ Her eyes gleamed wickedly.
‘What the hell is this?’ The demon growled, bending backwards to look at the whip.
‘Our finest creations.’ Jackie smiled. ‘Now, we’re going for a little walk.’ When she pointed ahead of them and it didn’t budge, Jackie used one of her blades to slash a gouge down its arm. It made that awful noise again—the one that made Immego want to rip his ears off.
‘Walk!’ Jacqueline ordered, pointing.
Immego rubbed his ears. ‘Please don’t do that. It really is a terrible sound.’
Jackie looked highly amused. ‘Oh, don’t be a kill-joy. We got one!’
Immego rolled his eyes. ‘Yippee.’ He dawdled, following his sister and the demon as they crested the shallow hill over to The Force’s new building. He had asked her where she’d found out this was their new place, but she’d simply winked at him.
‘I’m so talented you can’t even keep up,’ she said, and Immego barked out a laugh. She was not modest, his sister.
So he just shut up and followed her. If he had something better to do, he would, but since apparently demons thought they were top-dog now, he supposed it would be better to be on the not-dead side of that. They approached the building as someone was running out and Immego damn nearly ran the man over.
‘What—what is—what? Who are you? Is that a demon?’ The guy said, doing a double-take. He wore a grey suit, all ruffled, his tie askew. Immego realised that a tied-up demon was not something anyone was used to seeing.
‘I am Jacqueline, this is my brother, and yes it is. We have a business proposal for you,’ Jackie said, all business.
‘I don’t want a demon,’ the guy said, cringing away.
Jackie laughed. ‘Of course you don’t, sweetie. I hear you have plenty of those. But, hmm, now what do you need? Maybe a way to get rid of them. What’s your name, sugar?’
‘It’s—my name is Sam, but I don’t have time for this—there’s a situation and I have to—’
‘To what? What are you going to do?’ She waited for him.
All his nervous energy slipped out of him. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, his shoulders slumping helplessly.
‘Well, that’s where we come in. We saw the news. We can help. Take us to your bosses. Now.’ Jackie’s confidence left no room for discussion or refusal. Apparently at a loss as to his options, the guy, Sam, sighed, put his keys in his pocket and indicated for them to follow him back into the building, keeping a wary eye on the demon who growled in annoyance.
‘Nice digs,’ Jackie said. Her eyes grazed over the sleek marble floors and modern furniture and décor. The way to Jackie’s heart was through expensive shopping habits, Immego knew.
Sam led them to an empty office and indicated that they should sit. Jackie ignored that and continued standing, holding the demon’s leash. Immego sat, watching them.
‘He will be right in,’ Sam said, taking a seat near Immego. ‘How is she… holding it like that?’
Immego didn’t respond, but Jackie blew a kiss at Sam. ‘When your boss is here, honey.’
At that moment, a man walked through the door and froze on the threshold. ‘Demon?!’ he yelped, starting back. He held a long cane which shone through the window’s pale sunlight. Immego could see it was encrusted with crystals, like a witch’s tool. Otherwise, he looked as ordinary as every other human.
Jackie giggled. ‘It’s fine, he’s contained.’ She jiggled the whip and the demon winced. ‘See? All good. Come on in.’
‘What is going on?’ the man demanded, his eyes bulging out of his head. Admittedly, he did have enough demon problems right now without one wandering into his office.
‘We’re here to make a deal with you. We know about the attacks. You need a way to stop them.’ Jackie pulled out a blade and ran it up the demon’s midsection. It made that damned noise again and Immego cringed. ‘We have forged these unique weapons. They kill demons.’ Her eyes gleamed then, thinking about the money, no doubt.
Immego lounged back in his chair. It really was a nice office, he thought, settling into the expensive leather chair.
The man’s mouth fell open. ‘Do it,’ he breathed.
Jackie plunged the blade through the demon’s throat and it exploded into a mist of darkness. Jackie grinned then did a little bow as if she were putting on a show. ‘Interested?’ she said, quirking her eyebrow.
The man had composed himself. ‘Oh, young lady. You have no idea.’ He held out his hand. ‘My name is Henry.’ He didn’t spare a glance for Immego.
‘I’m Jacqueline,’ she said, ignoring her brother.
‘It’s very nice to meet you Jacqueline.’ Henry clasped her hand in his own.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Harrow
Harrow drifted between searing pain and darkness. If he were more conscious, he would appreciate the irony that that was basically his life. He could feel when someone with strong arms lifted him up and he moaned. They had jostled whatever was sticking through his shoulder, and there was pain in his back, too. Something sharp and stinging.
In his drowsy state, nothing much made sense. The sky was raining cement, and there were very pointy rocks everywhere jabbing into his skin. He’d come back from the burning Valhalla with Hella to find their world on fire too. Hella, he thought with a jolt. His eyes fluttered open for a moment. He looked up blearily to see that Leo Mettalum, the friendly bartender, was carrying him out of some sort of dark, caved in tunnel. He caught a flash of Hella’s red hair and her concerned, pinched green eyes. She looked terrible, but he had never been so happy to see her. She was okay. She was alive. Darkness swallowed his vision when Leo walked up a step and bumped the rod through his shoulder. Harrow’s chest constricted into a tight knot and he blacked out, his eyes rolling back.
The next series of events happened in a kaleidoscope of colours: a blanket of grey ash and dust, purple flame, and red hair. Harrow couldn’t tell if he was awake, or if these were a montage of memories from Valhalla. He felt something shift as he was laid down somewhere, and then Leo’s garbled voice said something over him. It came out like a badly tuned radio. ‘—arrow, can you—me? There’s a—in your shoulder—shrapnel in—back—blood.�
�� Harrow’s eyes rolled back and forth, trying to put Leo’s words together. All he could think was oooww.
He felt his head shift a little and someone was patting his sweaty hair out of his eyes. He hoped it was Hella. If it was Tommy trying to be nice, he’d thwack him later. He tried to open his eyes but could only manage a split second here and there. He saw a vast blue expanse dotted with white. The sky. He was outside. He took a deep breath—which was nice and refreshing—until it caused him to move too much, and then he was coughing up smoke, racking his whole body and jerking whatever was stabbing him. His coughing turned to a whimper and someone carefully pushed him back down so that he was more comfortable. The way he was lying, whoever was stroking his head had him up off the ground enough that the end of the rod or whatever it was wasn’t pressed into the ground and putting pressure on it.
Leo’s voice came again, this time clearer. ‘I have to take it out, look at him.’
‘You can’t.’ Hella. ‘I can’t heal him, and we can’t find Amara.’
Hella’s soft hands stroked his forehead gently. It was calming, he thought, wishing he could sit up and hug her.
‘Well, we can’t leave him like this,’ came Net’s voice. Harrow realised there was a hand on his right arm that must belong to the former angel, and he was glad. There was something solid and immovable about Net, he had come to think. He was happy to have him there now.
A less familiar voice rang above him, and it took Harrow a moment to place her. Piper. Hella’s birth mother. ‘There are a lot of injuries, not the least of which is the Nympha here, and we can’t find the one healer they have. Are you sure she was down there?’
‘I’m sure,’ Hella said. ‘She was there before us and Harrow…’ her voice trailed off. ‘Remember, she was the one with silver hair?’
‘Ah,’ Piper said. ‘Well, no one can find her. And unless Hella goes and gets some food and sleeps for about ten hours, no one here is getting healed anytime soon. That includes your warlock here.’
‘What if I just try?’ Hella said.
About four people said ‘no’ very quickly and vehemently.
‘You’re too drained, Hella. It would be dangerous,’ Tommy said quietly. Oh, good, Harrow thought with relief. He was alive too.
‘I can’t just leave him like this. And what about all the others?’ Hella said, the pain clear in her voice.
‘You also probably don’t want to electrocute them all, too,’ Tommy said. His tone wasn’t harsh, but his words were. It was unlike him. She had really freaked him out that day too.
‘Well, then we’ll make do with human-healing,’ Piper said.
Harrow opened his eyes to see Piper grab one of her athames and begin heating it up with her purple-white flames. He didn’t like the look of this. Hella’s hands on his head tensed.
‘Leo, pull it out,’ Piper said.
Harrow’s eyes were fully open now, and he met Leo’s dark eyes before they darted up to Hella’s.
‘He’s awake,’ Leo said, then, to Hella. ‘Hold him still.’
Harrow swallowed, then braced himself and that’s all the time he had before Leo cast him an apologetic glance then, using his gift, yanked the metal rod through his shoulder and into the air, streaming his dark-blue blood. Harrow tried not to scream, but it burst out of his lips anyway.
‘And any shrapnel or anything else you can get out,’ Piper pressed, kneeling to him with a red-hot burning athame.
‘I hope you’re not thinking of getting back at me for hurting your daughter,’ Harrow rasped, the heat of the blade dried out his eyes.
As Leo ripped out the remaining shrapnel, Piper put a firm hand on his chest. ‘The thought did occur to me.’
‘Piper,’ Hella snapped. Harrow could feel his blood pouring out of his wounds, but he smiled at Hella, because she was defending him.
‘He tried to kill you, Hellora. Twice. That I know of,’ Piper said, the blade still raised.
Tommy pushed Piper out of the way and took her blade. ‘Enough,’ he growled. He pressed the flat of the blade to Harrow’s wound. Harrow heard his flesh sizzle and tried to jerk away. Hella and Net held him firmly in place, both with—Harrow imagined—pitying looks in their eyes.
‘I’m sorry, Harrow,’ was all Tommy said, though he had been the one to take action, his first-aid training kicking in. He turned Harrow on his side a bit to get to the exit wound and the smaller holes where the other shrapnel had been and burned those too. Harrow’s jaw seized shut. Thankfully Hella was still stroking his head, murmuring to him that it would be okay. He couldn’t really hear her over the burning crackle of his own skin, but the sentiment was nice.
Tommy rolled him so that he was on his back again. Harrow wanted to vomit, but there was nothing in his stomach to throw up.
‘Do warlocks know about cauterising wounds?’ Piper asked curiously.
Tommy looked up at her and Harrow barked out a laugh at Tommy’s expression of well no shit, I just did it.
‘We do, but I never would have thought of that,’ Leo admitted. He patted Harrow’s arm fondly, glad he was no longer bleeding out or decorated with metal objects sticking out of his skin. Harrow managed to give him what he hoped was a grateful smile.
Harrow tried to sit up, with Tommy’s help, to better see Hella. ‘Thanks,’ Harrow whispered to Tommy, who patted him carefully on the back, away from his wounds. Harrow wrapped Hella up into a tight hug hoping she didn’t have any injuries that he might be crushing. ‘I’m so glad you’re alive,’ he breathed into her hair.
Piper cleared her throat. ‘I’m going to go, um, help the others,’ she said, leaving awkwardly.
Harrow and Hella ignored her. ‘I’m so glad you’re alive,’ Hella said back.
Harrow could tell by her shaky breathing that she was crying. ‘You helped get us out of there, didn’t you?’ Harrow pulled back so that he could see her better. ‘Oh, look at you. You’re covered in cuts.’
She waved him off. ‘I’m fine. And yeah, I tried to. Thankfully, Tommy did most of the heavy lifting. Then Leo came and carried you out.’
Harrow used his thumb to brush away her tears, then turned to face the others. First, he looked at Tommy—the warlock he remembered sparring with a long time ago—who had recently turned into a friend. Maybe even something like a brother. ‘Thank you,’ he said, and he meant it. Tommy looked ridiculous. His orange hair was askew and partly buried in dust. Only a ginger’s hair could still be bright under all that. He was sporting a lot of cuts too and Harrow felt a pang of guilt. Tommy nodded loyally.
Harrow looked up at Leo’s bulk; the Mettalum was a bartender, and a big one at that. If he didn’t want to smash someone into the bar, he could always break up fights by pulling people bodily off the ground. He was sure that would do the trick. ‘And thank you too, Leo.’
Leo smiled humbly and even blushed a little at his heroics.
‘I heard your voice,’ Harrow said, lastly turning to Nerretti. ‘When Hella called out, it was you who answered.’ The former angel looked as friendly and dorky as ever, just with a good sheen of dust covering him. He looked like an adorkable cartoon character, Harrow thought.
‘Yes, I had gone looking for you two before the building caved in. I was flung to the other side of that barrier. I’d been looking everywhere for you but there was just so much debris. It wasn’t until Hella managed to pulverise enough rocks to break through that I could get to you and have Tommy and Leo do the rest.’ Net laid a hand on Harrow’s arm. ‘I’m glad you’re okay, Harrow. Then he looked up at Hella. ‘Both of you.’
‘Is it too soon to ask how it went in Valhalla?’ Tommy asked, sitting back on his heels. ‘Also, why the building exploded?’ He shrugged in mock nonchalance.
Hella’s head snapped to Harrow. In all the chaos, he’d almost forgotten about Valhalla, and the events that had led them there. ‘Did you get it?’ Hella asked, her voice a whisper, barely masking her excitement.
>
Harrow opened his mouth, then frowned. The last thing he remembered in Valhalla was the raging fire, and then he and Hella in the great hall, picking up the broken shard of glass. And then everything had changed, and they’d been here and everything was on fire. Before he could—what? Somehow check to see if he suddenly had his soul again—how would he even do that? An older man walking by froze when they saw him.
The man pointed. ‘You. You’re a prisoner until your trial which is supposed to be, well, now.’ The man, a Ventus by the look of his pale colouring, grabbed him from the ground and, by his arm, hauled Harrow to his feet then proceeded to restrain him with a set of plastic handcuffs behind his back.
‘Ouch,’ Harrow said as he clasped them on tightly.
His friends were all on their feet. Hella’s face was as red as her hair, but it was Tommy who spoke with surprising calm. ‘Mr Melvin, sir. I’m Tommy Terra, Tahlia’s nephew. This warlock has been under my observation, and I must inform you with the utmost sincerity that his actions these past days were the result of a backfired spell, sir, but the spell in question has just been reversed. He was not responsible for his crimes. Let him go.’
The old man stared at Tommy for a moment. ‘Tahlia’s nephew, you say?’
‘Yes, sir. Have you seen my aunt? Are she and my mother okay?’ Tommy said.
The man, Melvin Ventus, nodded gruffly. ‘Yes, yes. Both fine. Your aunt was rather worried about you, though. Tried to go into the building after you. Well, if you’re anything like your aunt, Tommy, then I believe you have quite a fancy for believing tall stories!’ He huffed, and turned to leave, with Harrow in tow.
Tommy scoffed. ‘What are you talking about? Sir?’ he added.
Melvin Ventus rolled his eyes. ‘All this demon nonsense she babbles about, you know. Good grief, the two of you. This Nympha will stand trial for his crimes. I suggest we gather our House and temporarily relocate to Faerie House. Some of their guards have already arrived to help move us all there.’ He glanced at Harrow and noticed his cauterised wounds. ‘And you’re fine. Very good. Let’s go.’
Mist, Murder & Magic Page 24