She came down on the Hunter like a banshee, howling and hacking as fast as she could. It fought back instinctively and she could feel the heat building in its skin, a heat that would rise to inferno level and wipe out the entire building if she couldn’t stop it. The butcher knife was in her right hand, yet just stabbing at it wasn’t going to be enough. She had to get to its throat, but when she wrapped her left arm across its face, the beast bit her, tearing through the flesh and muscle of her forearm and going for bone just like Gavino had. She screamed and tried to pull away—she couldn’t help it—and it was the best thing she could have done. The movement hauled the Hunter’s head, with its teeth still chewing away at her, backward and against her chest, and Brynna brought the knife forward and sawed at his throat as hard as her body would let her.
Its clawed hands thrashed and found Brynna’s skin in a dozen places, leaving long, bleeding furrows that felt like molten razor cuts. It hurt, horribly, and she couldn’t stop herself from wailing, but she would not stop, she would not.
Heat enveloped her suddenly, and she drew strength from it, pulling just enough final energy to wrench the knife through the last stretch of resistance—
The Hunter’s head toppled off its body.
But it wasn’t over yet. It was never that easy.
The beast was weak and its heat was cooling, but it was still moving, already tipping sideways and reaching out with blind fingers as it tried to find its missing part. Brynna couldn’t let the Hunter reassemble itself, and the only way to prevent that from happening was to destroy the head completely. Completely—no parts left big enough to put back together. Because of Eran, she couldn’t incinerate it, so what now?
She swatted aside the Hunter’s fumbling fingers and snatched its head off the floor, holding it by one of the undulating spikes that protruded from its skull, trying desperately to ignore the pain zigzagging through her arm from the bite wound. The Hunter’s eyes stared at her, spiteful through the pre-cloudiness of death, and its mouth twitched and clicked although it could no longer speak. Could it still bite? She didn’t want to find out.
Brynna spun and saw that Eran had managed to get to his knees; he was using the door frame to pull himself up. “Eran, I have to destroy the head,” she cried. “Completely—”
“Cleaver,” he croaked. He waved vaguely at the cabinets behind Brynna. “In the drawer.”
She turned and yanked open the nearest drawer but saw only boxes of plastic bags and aluminum foil. As her hand closed on the next one over, pain seared through her ankle. She gasped and kicked at the Hunter—it was clawing at her ankle, trying to hobble her. She pulled too hard on the next drawer and it came free of the cabinet and crashed to the floor, scattering everything inside it. The cleaver she was looking for spun away and came to a stop against the baseboard to the right of the refrigerator. Retrieving it took her out of the Hunter’s reach, and she swung the creature’s head up and thunked it onto the countertop. She could stomach what she had to do next—she’d done far worse in the depths of Hell—but could Eran?
Time to find out.
Brynna lifted the meat cleaver high and brought it down on the Hunter’s skull. Bone cracked and the thing’s mouth stretched; a sound somewhere between a gurgle and a screech found its way out. On the floor, its body spasmed violently, then twisted and began to squirm in her direction, deadly claws seeking her legs. Then Eran was there, swinging one of the kitchen chairs, beating it back to give her back some safety.
Brynna brought the cleaver down again, then again, chopping and cutting until the countertop was covered in red and black ichor and bits of bone no bigger than an inch across. But it wasn’t enough and she knew it—there could be nothing recognizable, nothing that the unholy force that powered this creature could piece back together like a diabolical puzzle. Eyes glazed almost to exhaustion, Brynna squinted at the wall above the sink and saw something so simple, so sublime and innocuous, that she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before.
A wall switch like the one at Ramiro’s restaurant.
Eran had managed to hammer the Hunter into the far left corner. The creature was still fighting, but it was losing ground quickly—every downward slam of the cleaver had taken a little more out of its power. It wasn’t the only one losing energy; there wasn’t a single part of Brynna’s body that didn’t hurt, and she’d lost enough blood to make the room swim when she leaned sideways.
There was a crash as the Hunter got lucky and blocked Eran’s next whack. The chair splintered and broke apart, leaving Eran staring dazedly at a chair leg, the only thing left in his hand. Before Eran could react, the creature flung an arm out and knocked him off his feet. Then it rolled onto its belly and scrabbled sightlessly across the floor like some kind of enormous, bloody worm, trying desperately to find Brynna.
How she felt didn’t matter. If she had to drag herself sideways by her fingernails, Brynna had to finish this.
She stretched until her hand found the sink, then pulled herself toward it, using her right arm to scoop the ghastly mound of the Hunter’s brains, skin and chunks of bone with her as she moved. Three feet had never seemed so far, especially when it took her that much closer to the Hunter headed toward her from the other direction. As the beast’s jagged talons scraped the side of her foot, Brynna pulled the entire loathsome puddle into the sink, twisted the faucet to ON and slammed her sludge-covered hand against the switch.
The light over the sink came on at the same time the Hunter sank its claws deep into the meat of her foot.
Brynna howled and beat on it, but her blows were useless against the agony spiraling up her body as the Hunter tried to use her leg to climb upward. Eran was yelling at her, but she couldn’t make out the words above her own shrieks and the sound of the running water close to her face and her ear because she was sinking, going down against the cabinet door under the gut-wrenching pain and the weight of the Hunter’s headless body.
Something shoved her to one side and the Hunter went with her, clinging to her like a giant parasite. She was falling, headed for the floor, where she would die when the soldier tore out her throat. Then it would go for Eran—
The whine of a motor, high-pitched and shockingly close, split her thoughts apart. For a single unrelenting moment, the Hunter clutched the bones of her knees even tighter—
Then its claws went slack and it sagged, lifeless, across her feet.
A million miles above her head, Eran scraped the vile remains of the Hunter’s head down the garbage disposal.
“THAT WAS THE MOST disgusting thing I’ve ever seen,” Eran said. “I don’t think I could have even imagined anything worse.”
“I’d rather be disgusting than dead.” Sitting next to him on the side of the tub in Eran’s oversized bathroom, Brynna winced as she leaned over the cool water and hurriedly sponged it onto her legs and arms. He’d come up with boxer shorts and T-shirts, and they’d both changed out of their fouled clothes and decided to clean up their wounds before dealing with the enormous, smelly situation in the kitchen. They’d tended to Grunt as best they could, and as soon as they got things under control, Eran was going to load her in the car and drive her over to the vet clinic on Clark and Diversey. “What were you yelling at me back there?”
Eran gave her a grin that could only be described as sickly. “I was telling you the switch to the garbage disposal was on the other side of the sink.”
“Right.” She stood, but her legs were wobbly and she had to hold on to the sink before she could step over the tub’s edge onto the bath mat. She was torn inside. Part of her was grateful for his help; she would’ve died without it because she would have never let the Hunter take her back to Lucifer. Another part was more than a little dumbfounded. “What were you doing here, anyway? I thought you were going to work.”
He stepped out next to her and pulled a towel from the rack. His throat was burned, but not too badly—more like a bad sunburn than anything else. He had no idea how lucky
he’d been. “I came back because I forgot my star,” he said. Instead of swabbing at his own neck, he pressed the towel gently against the deep gashes where the Hunter had chowed down on her arm. “As long as I’ve been on the force, I’ve never done something so idiotic. Then again, things weren’t exactly on pattern around here this morning.”
“Don’t you need to go back?”
“Got a few things to deal with first,” he said grimly. “Like getting Grunt taken care of, and what the hell to do with that thing’s body.” He looked pointedly at Brynna’s ravaged legs and arm. “And you, too. Coming on top of your little barbecue, don’t you think this is all a bit extensive to go untreated, even for you?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been through worse.”
“As a human being?”
Brynna exhaled. “No,” she admitted. “But I’ll be all right, I promise.” They both turned their heads at the sound of a whimper from the living room. “We have to get Grunt to the vet. Poor thing—she’s like a child. She has no idea why she was hurt or why the pain won’t stop.”
Brynna went with him into the living room and knelt next to Grunt. The dog was lying on a blanket that Eran had put down for her, panting heavily and occasionally lifting her head to try to lick at the massive star-shaped burn on her shoulder. It was deep and looked dreadfully painful, and they could see where the fireball had burned through the skin and into the muscle below. A thin, bloody fluid leaked from the edges, dribbling down and staining the blanket. It made Brynna recall her own burns of just a week or so earlier, and she couldn’t help shuddering in sympathy.
Working together, they tugged on the blanket and tied the ends so that it formed a sort of hammock. The arm that was injured was next to useless, but Brynna got her good hand wrapped around one end and helped lever the heavy dog up and into Eran’s arms. She followed him down the stairs and opened the car door, wincing every time the Great Dane yelped.
“What about you?” Eran asked as he slid onto the driver’s side after getting Grunt settled in the backseat. “I hate to leave you alone with that—that thing up there.”
Brynna managed a smile. “That thing isn’t a problem anymore beyond cleaning up after it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” She was silent as he closed the door then rolled down the window. “Eran, I can get rid of the rest of it, but I’m not at the top of my game. It’s probably going to leave a mark on the floor or … something.”
He raised an eyebrow at her pause before the word something, and Brynna knew he was remembering what she’d told him about getting rid of the Thai witch doctor in the basement of the jewelry store. “Do what you have to. Just please don’t burn the place down. I’m sure I can come up with some bullshit about a grease fire to tell the landlord, but annihilating the entire building is a little beyond my creativity.”
“Got it.” Brynna watched as he pulled away, then turned back and trudged up the stairs to the coach house. She hoped Grunt would be okay, and was a little surprised at how truly sorry she felt that the dog had gotten hurt. Why? Because the animal had tried to defend Brynna. How strange that the sweet-natured pet would endanger herself trying to protect a person she’d met only an hour earlier—yet another reason why humans placed such high value on their dogs.
Standing in the kitchen, she stared numbly down at the body of the Hunter. Even with the evidence of it on the floor at her feet, she still wasn’t sure she could fathom the magnitude of what she’d done. Killing one of Lucifer’s Hunters … that was an enormous thing. Anything else she’d done over the past millennia as she’d traveled the path to realizing that her true desire was redemption—all the thousands of little betrayals that she’d committed by showing tiny moments of mercy on a multitude of tormented souls—was nothing compared to this. Yes, she had killed Gavino, but her former partner would barely be aggravated about that; the snot had acted big on Earth, but in Hell Gavino had been little more than a nameless lower-echelon demon hardly worth Lucifer’s time. His efforts to better himself had accomplished nothing beyond getting himself killed.
But the Hunter at her feet … this was a different thing altogether. Hunters were like children to Lucifer, spawned of the underworld’s lava pools and a touch of his own infernal breath. With this single ruthless act, she had permanently closed the door on any possible return to an existence in Hell.
Heaven might forgive, but Hell did not … and Lucifer would never forget.
Twenty-three
Mireva’s long-awaited science fair was held on a warm and beautiful Saturday at the Museum of Science and Industry at 57th and Lake Shore Drive. The temperature floated in the upper seventies and a light breeze off Lake Michigan kept the humidity under control; for Chicagoans, it was a perfect day to get out and enjoy their city.
To Brynna, it seemed like half the city had decided to go museum-hopping.
It had been a long time since she’d seen so many people in one place. To begin with, the concept of Mireva being at the science fair at all set her teeth on edge—it was too public, too crowded. On one hand that seemed good, in an overused more-the-merrier sort of way; on the other, there was so much that was out of her control—namely, who, what, where, and when. In short, everything.
On the outside, the museum reminded her of fifth and sixth century Greece, back when she had watched with interest as the humans of that region warred with each other at the same time they built incredible structures like the Parthenon, the Propylaea, and temple after temple to their gods. The architecture of the museum shared many of the same features—massive stonework, statues that were strikingly similar to the lovely caryatids and other sculptured figures created by the masterful Grecian artists, columns topped by Ionic capitals, and acroteria—the elaborately carved figures adorning the corners and tops of pediments.
The inside was another matter. Only the marble floor seemed to go with the magnificent, ancient-looking exterior; everything else had moved on into the era of technology. Banners floated overhead, advertising exhibits that covered everything from airplanes and helicopters, to molecular biology and nuclear power, to the creation of the Earth (if they only knew) and a hundred other subjects. For Brynna, it was a jarring transition. Then again, maybe it was time to leave history behind and get with the present.
The science fair, a heroic undertaking in and of itself, had been set up in a large hall situated at the right center off the main floor. To get to it, Eran and Brynna had to walk through the museum’s main hallway and attraction, which for quite some time had been a presentation on Harry Potter. What little she saw of it in passing made her grin with delight and the secret knowledge of how magic really worked. If getting to Mireva and watching over her hadn’t been such a high priority, Brynna would have had a wonderful time wandering through the exhibit.
The Chicago public school system held another science fair every March, but this was a special extension of that one, sponsored by several dozen universities around the country. There were ten prizes in total, the top three being full scholarships; partials went to second-, third-, and fourth-place categories. The massive exhibit hall had been divided by cloth-covered tables into inner and outer rectangles so that the contestants had plenty of room to work and for storage behind their setups. The entrants faced each other across a wide aisle, and the judges, along with family members, other students and the general public, flowed between the two of them. Out of nearly a thousand entries, only 150 projects had been picked to enter this final phase.
Mireva had been assigned a spot in the larger outer rectangle, midway down the room on the north wall. Washed by the blue-white light of countless overhead fluorescents, her lush, healthy plants were an expanse of luxuriant green among the more austere shades of gray and metal. People couldn’t help gravitating toward her project; in the midst of all this science, Brynna thought that spoke very strongly to the spiritual attraction between mankind and the most basic, natural things of this world.
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br /> “So far, so good,” Eran said. He was keeping pace with Brynna as she walked the aisle between the tables, both of them looking for anything that just wasn’t quite right. Brynna doubted that Lahash would show up, at least not in the very crowded exhibition hall, but who knew if he would find another sad and sorry puppet like Klesowitch? The thought made her cringe inside; if he had, neither she nor Eran would have any idea who it was.
“Don’t say that,” Brynna said. “It’s like tempting fate.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled although a smile didn’t show on his mouth. “Fate—you believe in that stuff?”
“I do,” she said. “Fate, destiny—they’re one and the same. But neither is completely set. I told you before, there are always choices. One small decision can affect everything.”
“Like chaos theory. The butterfly on one side of the world,” Eran said. “I learned that from Jurassic Park.”
“What’s that?”
“A movie based on a Michael Crichton book.”
“Ah.” She had no idea who Michael Crichton was, but chaos theory was as good a term as any.
“So how does that apply to Mireva?”
“The same as it applies to anyone,” Brynna answered, watching the crowd with sharp eyes. “Her destiny is to complete a task preset by God, but He always gives choices. There’s always the chance that a choice made by one person can affect, for good or bad, someone else.”
“Like Klesowitch.”
“Exactly.”
They’d walked the entire hall and were now back at Mireva’s table. Mireva was beaming, transformed from a normally self-conscious and studious teenage girl into a young woman totally comfortable with herself and her presentation as she explained the project to a group of adults. Brynna saw Abrienda and Ramiro moving down the tables, content to let the girl shine on her own. After a minute or so, the adults moved on and Brynna and Eran took their place in front of Mireva’s table. Mireva’s excited words tumbled over the question Brynna would have asked.
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