by Amy Braun
The Shredder charged at me with more speed than something its size should have. I barely had time to dive out of the way, and even then I felt the tip of its claw scratch along my leg. I winced and bit back a cry as I collapsed onto my side. It felt like being lacerated by a rake, and this was a damn graze. I twisted as the Shredder swiped for my head. I laid flat on my back, watching the claws sweep inches from my face.
I tried to roll out from under the demon, but it grabbed my shoulder and pinned me in place with its hand. Sharp bones poked up into my cheek, blood oozing out of the wounds. All I could smell was rotten eggs and sour body odor. It raised its other clawed hand, ready to tear off my face. It kneeled down and completely trapped me under its weight. The air whooshed out of my stomach, making it impossible to worm free. The monster was panting over my head, suffocating me with breath that smelled like a corpse. I tried to think, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to figure out a counter attack before it killed me.
The Shredder suddenly jerked and reared back, turning its head away from me and roaring at whatever had struck it.
That was the only opening I needed.
I sliced my hatchet across its throat, black blood pouring onto my chest and burning me. The sharp, putrid smell of sulfur from the monster made me gag. Holding my breath so I wouldn’t puke, I raised the hatchet again and slammed it into the Shredder’s face. I hacked at the monster a couple more times until it finally started crumbling into dark ash.
I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my face with the sleeve of my lucky jacket, hoping I wouldn’t breathe in a dead-demon-dust. The ash coated the entire front of its body. Once it finished dissolving, I risked opening my eyes.
Dro was standing a couple feet away from me, the silver knife in her hand slicked with demon blood. I wasn’t surprised she saved my life–again–but she’d taken a risk when I told her not to. Sometimes I worried that she was taking after me a bit too much.
I wiped away some more of the demon ash, then pushed myself up and looked at her with sharp eyes. “Didn’t I say something about staying out of the fight?”
“You did,” Dro said, handing my knife back. Wickedness crossed through her eyes. “But you’re not the only one who can kill a demon.”
I gave her an exasperated look as I dusted myself down, then turned my head to where Warrick had finished fighting the second Red.
Demon blood stained his leather jacket and jeans, but he was in one piece. He didn’t even have a mark on him. He shouldered his sawed-off shotgun, eyeing me up and down. He looked mischievous and dangerously attractive.
“Did you have fun?”
I shrugged, the last of the demon ash flying off me like dirty snow. “I don’t know about you, but that seemed a little too easy and too quick.”
Warrick raised his eyebrows at me, thinking I was insane. Maybe I was. Who the hell knew anymore?
Realization suddenly hit me. “Max said there were four. Where’s the other Shredder?”
Just as I said it, something exploded out from the skylight in the ceiling and dropped heavily onto the truck’s hood. Max, who had been waiting outside the truck’s cab, jerked back as fast as he could. The Shredder’s weight had the back end of the truck rearing up once before slamming onto the ground again. The demon turned its head to the right, seeing my friend. It jumped off the hood, landing only feet from him. He backed up because there was nothing else for him to do. He didn’t have any weapons. He couldn’t fight. He was the perfect target.
“Max!” Dro screamed.
She raced for him, Warrick and me racing behind her. Even though my leg howled in pain every time I put pressure on it, I was faster than my sister. I flipped my knife in the air and hurled it at the Shredder.
My aim was off because I was running, but the blade still sank into its shoulder. Not that it stopped the demon from raising its claws and slashing into Max.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw blood spraying out from his chest. He screamed as he fell to the ground. The Shredder raised its claws again, ready to drive them into Max’s back. We were almost in front of him. I stopped to find my aim, arched my arm, and threw my hatchet at the demon.
This time, I found my mark. The hatchet went straight into the Shredder’s chest. It howled and stepped back, forgetting about Max. Dro and I grabbed his arms and started pulling him out of range. I looked up to see that the Shredder was still alive. It yanked both my knife and hatchet from its torso, roaring against the smoke coming from its burning hands. The demon dropped the weapons and swung its claws at us. Dro wasn’t paying attention, so I threw an arm over her back and pushed her down with me. The claws sailed over our heads by about an inch, moving our hair with it. There was a loud boom from my left followed by another thunderous howl. Warrick had shot the demon full of rock salt.
Dro and I continued to dragging Max to safety. He was still breathing, but it was raspy and shallow. Three heavy slashes were cut along his chest to his ribs. The whiteness of his shirt made the appearance of the dark red blood on him even more terrifying. It stuck to the wounds, which were much worse than mine. Dro was on the brink of tears.
I left her with Max, unable to focus on the severity of his wounds right now. Dro would heal him, and he would live. Hopefully.
Drawing the last two knives from inside my black jacket, I gritted my teeth and took off for the Shredder. Warrick had its complete attention. It hacked and slashed its claws wildly, forcing the demon slayer to move back. One swipe knocked the shotgun from Warrick’s hands, but he never missed a stride. He reached into his leather jacket and brought out a combat knife. The demon swung for him, making Warrick duck as low as he could. In one fluid movement, he stabbed the Shredder in the arm. Its sharp, coughing bark echoed off the walls.
Warrick went right to his next move. He lunged forward, stabbing the Shredder in the ribs. The knife was stuck deep in the monster’s thick side, and Warrick had to grip the knife hilt with both hands to yank it down against the Shredder’s ribs. His moves were perfect, but he had gotten too close to an angry monster. The Shredder growled sharply and kicked Warrick in the chest. The force of the hit sent the demon slayer was back five feet, slamming him into one of the support beams. His head cracked sharply against the metal. He crumpled and landed face first on the hard concrete, then was still.
The Shredder took a step toward him, at the same time I made my move. I jumped up, my good foot hitting the side of the truck. The angle was a bit awkward, but I had more leverage to push off and land on the Shredder’s back. I buried my knives deep into the demon’s shoulder blades, trying to make the cuts as damaging as possible.
Black blood squirted out of the wounds as I dragged them through the Shredder’s tough skin. My hands were covered in the burning, sickly smelling blood. I was hanging onto them so tightly I could feel the plastic hilts biting my palms. My face was pressed against the demon’s back so it couldn’t grab me, and my cheek was rubbing against the coarse Shredder hide. The smell was so bad my eyes started watering. I tugged on the blades. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head away as more blood splashed onto me.
Needless to say, the Shredder wasn’t appreciating my piggyback ride. It stabbed its claws over its shoulders, nearly embedding them in my skull even when I ducked. It twisted back and forth violently, not caring that my legs flopped around and smashed into its side, thighs, and back. I hung on as tightly as I could, but my blood-slick hands were starting to slip from the knives.
One sharp twist finally hurled me off the demon’s back. I slammed into the truck’s windshield, glass cracking against my spine. I shook off the dizziness in my head as the Shredder turned around, stabbing at me with both of its claws. I rolled just as its bony talons punched through the glass next to me. I felt the windshield sink behind me, and rotated my body until I fell off the hood of the truck.
I landed hard on my side and I turned onto my back. I was about to get up when the Shredder pounced onto the truck’s hood. Metal squealed as it
bent under the huge monster. Its lips peeled back in a snarl as it stared at me with enraged, pale eyes. It held its claws out on either side of its massive body, ready to pounce for the final kill.
My heart bounced in my ribcage as I scrambled for an idea. I was out of weapons. No one was around to help me. When that demon jumped on me, it was going to slice me to ribbons.
Just as I was thinking about how quickly I could move before the Shredder caught me, a blast of white light filled my vision. I threw my arm over my eyes while the temperature in the room ratcheted up fifteen degrees in a single second. The heat was like standing in front of a furnace. I scrambled to my feet. Once my head cleared, I turned around, and saw that the truck was on fire.
Blinding white flames wrapped around the vehicle like they were coming from a flamethrower. There were four shotgun-like pops as the tires exploded. The demon was consumed by the blaze. I couldn’t see the shape of the Shredder any more, but I could still smell rotting, burning demon flesh. I could hear it screaming.
I followed the direction of the flames, and saw Dro standing with her hands outstretched in front of her. Her pale, angelic face was pinched in concentration. Two streams of hellfire blazed out from her palms.
I stared, trying to understand what I was seeing. Dro had never been able to use hellfire like this. It only happened when she was dreaming. She would scream in her sleep and burst into flames that wouldn’t hurt her, but would destroy anything around her. She had never been able to control it before.
But now she was.
Max was standing behind Dro. His shirt was still torn and bloody, and he looked a little pale, but I couldn’t see any wounds on his chest. He was staring at my little sister with the same emotions I was feeling. Shock, wonder, and fear.
Ear-shattering explosions made me duck and cover my head. I whirled around, seeing the enflamed truck lift five feet off the ground before dropping with a loud crash. I dragged my eyes more to the left, and I saw a smaller, burning white heap. At least the Shredder’s taken care of, I thought grimly.
The sudden explosion broke Dro’s concentration. She exhaled in a tight gasp, abruptly ending the hellfire. Her eyes fluttered closed and she swayed. Max rushed to catch her, wincing as he lowered her onto the ground. I ran over and dropped by their side.
“Dro! Dro!” I called, gripping her shoulders.
Her skin was scorching, but Max and I didn’t care. I shook her gently, but urgently.
“Come on, little sister, wake up!”
Dro sucked in a deep breath and blinked at the ceiling. Her eyes unfocused as she turned her head in the direction of my voice. She looked at me with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a rushed breath.
I sat back on my heels, relaxing my sore muscles and trying to smile. “Yeah, Dro. I’m fine. Covered in dirt and demon blood, as usual.”
My sister didn’t smile back. Max helped her sit up, brushing some snow-white hair off her forehead. “Pretty girl, you’re crazy.”
She leaned against him, letting him pull her into a hug. Max kissed the side of her head and held her close. Then he looked at me with confused eyes. I shook my head at him. If anyone was going to ask Dro about what she’d done, it was going to be me. Dro pushed away from Max and looked at me again.
“You’re hurt,” she said, seeing my face and my leg.
“It’s okay,” I said. It was almost the truth. “It’s not as bad as it–”
Dro was already kneeling in front of me, placing one hand on my face and the other on my leg. Her hands filled with a golden light as she used her magic to heal my wounds. I bit the inside my cheek to keep from wincing as my injuries were surrounded by an uncomfortable pins and needles feeling. I should have been used to it since Dro had healed me a thousand and one times, but my brain refused to shake the wrongness of it all. I looked over her shoulder at Max.
“Go check on Warrick,” I told him. “He took a bad hit to the head.”
Max nodded, got to his feet, and jogged over to the demon slayer. He still hadn’t moved from the floor, so I could only hope that he was unconscious. He’d thrown himself in the line of fire to save Dro, Max, and me. Warrick had been in our group for about three months now, and it was hard for me to imagine him not being with us. It made my life a million times easier knowing I didn’t have to be the only fighter in the group, that someone else could take watches, and he was an expert at killing demons.
“I’ll heal him too, Con,” Dro said. A small smile grew on her lips when I looked at her. “I’ll have him looking gorgeous again in no time.”
I frowned, having forgotten that she could read my thoughts and sense my emotions if she wanted to. She very rarely did, though. Dro knew me better than anyone else, and respected that I wanted to keep my thoughts and feelings to myself. If I had something to say, I was going to say it. I didn’t keep secrets from her.
But like all younger siblings, Dro loved to drive me crazy.
“You do that, little sister. I don’t care how he looks.”
She laughed, a sweet, gentle sound that always managed to cheer me up no matter how black my mood was.
“Liar. I’ve seen you sneaking glances at him.”
“Because I don’t want him reaching for his phone to call the cops on me.”
“Uh huh.” The glow left Dro’s hands when she pulled them away from my freshly healed body. “So if I said he was giving you the same kind of looks, you’d say it’s just because he’s thinking about collecting that Marshal’s bounty?”
“Yup.”
Dro smiled and shook her head. “It’s your loss if that’s all you’re thinking about, big sister. Warrick is the perfect man for you.”
I groaned. Our friend was missing, we narrowly survived a demonic attack, there was a burning truck in the background, and my sister was trying to play matchmaker. I didn’t have time or patience for romantic fantasies, no matter how easily Warrick would fit into them. I had serious trust issues in that department, and for good reason. The last relationship I was in ended about as well as a gang war, since my then boyfriend and I had tried to kill each other.
Pushing away bitter memories, I looked at the flaming truck. “We’re gonna need new supplies.”
“I’m sorry.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Dro again. She was holding her upper arm and staring at the ground. She was blaming herself for what happened.
“It’s okay, Dro,” I said. “It was time we got another vehicle anyway. The new one will help us stay under the radar. We can always find more supplies.”
She nodded, but I knew she would sulk for a while. Everything in the tuck was replaceable. A couple small bags of food, some clothes, and sleeping bags. All our weapons were on us or scattered around the warehouse. Walking around was going to be difficult with the world beginning to spin off its top, but if we didn’t have a choice, then we didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t going to blame Dro for anything. The girl had been through enough in her life. She didn’t need unnecessary guilt thrown on her shoulders.
I touched her arm so she would lift her head. I smiled at her. “I know how you like to shop.”
Dro stifled a laugh, then put her arms around my torso and hugged me.
“I’m sorry, Connie. I saw the Shredder hurt Max and Warrick, and then it was going after you, and I just... I had to stop it. I don’t know how it happened.”
I stroked the back of her snowy head. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll meet up with Seph and he’ll tell us.”
If we’re very, very, very lucky.
Even if Sephiel was alive and he made his way back to us, he might not be able to answer our questions about Dro. There was nothing in the world like her, the first successful hybrid of an angel and a demon.
A child directly from Lucifer’s blood.
Our knowledge of her was still so limited. Since Hell and Heaven had been set loose, it had only become harder to protect her. I glanced at the burning truck again, and knew it
was only going to get worse.
Chapter 2
It was hard to believe that two months ago, things were normal. Maybe not normal for our group– a Seraphim warrior, a psychic, a demon slayer, a fugitive, a demon/angel hybrid– but it was normal for the rest of the world.
People woke up in their warm beds, ate breakfast, went to school or work, came home, had dinner, and went to sleep in the same warm bed. They bought groceries, treated themselves, fell in love, and got married. They got into arguments and broke hearts. Babies were born and seniors died. Some people saved lives, while others destroyed them. Life had been unpredictable, but easy.
Not one of those people was living on the run from demons from Hell and angels from Heaven. Not one of them literally checked every dark corner for monsters. Not one of them slept with a hatchet and silver knives close by, worrying about how far away they could get if their sister had a nightmare and spontaneously combusted.
Now that the Gates of Heaven and Hell were open, cracks were showing in their blissfully ignorant lives. They were seeing things, hearing things, being tempted into doing things they wouldn’t normally do. Churches were preaching more than usual, half of them saying we were going to be saved, the other half saying it was too late and we were all damned. Very few knew what was really going on.
A lot had changed since the Gates were opened. Before he’d taken off on his latest scouting mission, our lone angel ally, Sephiel, said the angels were looking for us. As the days since Lucifer’s rising went on, Dro began to mention that angels were trying to get into her mind and track her down. They considered Dro an abomination with too much power, a threat that needed to be eliminated.
The only way to stop them was to close the Gates of Heaven and Hell again, something I wasn’t sure would be possible given how many enemies we’d gotten over the last few years.
Before we started worrying about angels and demons, my sister and I lived under the thumb of a psychotic drug lord. Things had quickly gone downhill when we left, and they weren’t the ‘forgive and forget’ type of group. Naturally, I became a fugitive, and naturally, every law enforcement agency wanted to lock me up in a three by three cell.