by Amy Braun
Then Rorikel stopped abruptly, as if something else had caught his attention. Behind him, Sephiel had the same kind of startled look. Max gasped sharply. I whirled around and saw him clutching his head.
“Max? What’s wrong?”
“Another vision,” he said in a breath. “Damn it, ow–”
“Andromeda has opened her connection to us,” Sephiel said.
Just as I turned to him, Sephiel rushed over and slapped his hand against my forehead. I had one second to breathe before I was taken–
–to the room where she was being held. Her feet and ankles were chained to the floor, warded with powerful spells to ensure that she couldn’t escape. The skin around the shackles was raw and bloody. She was scared and in pain, her head throbbing from the pounding it had taken in the fight and her capture. She pushed again, trying to get the message out so they could find her.
“Come on, someone please,” she whispered.
The door opened. Dro pushed herself back. A tall, lean woman entered the room with two burly men behind her. One of them was Drake. Dro felt bile rise in her stomach when Drake sneered at her, pure liquid hate for what he’d done to Constance burning in her heart. But then she saw the woman. The bile was replaced with anger, and fear.
Six years had aged her, but she still carried herself regally. Her body was covered in an elegant black cloak that bared her shoulders, her feet cased in heavy leather boots. Her arms were concealed in long silky gloves, her night black hair pulled up in a tight bun at the top of her head. Her dark eyes were surrounded with eye shadow and mascara, but Dro could see the bruised circles of exhaustion under them. Staring at her face was like looking into an endless, black abyss.
“Isabel,” Dro breathed. “You were at the camp.” Her anger was building. “It was all you.”
The witch smiled. “Of course it was. The demons couldn’t break through by themselves, after all. Not even the most powerful ones had access to this plane. I offered my services to them, and was rewarded with enough power to bring them over. To find you.”
Dro grinned wickedly, defiance coming through. “But you failed. I didn’t go with the demons that night. My sister got me free.”
Isabel’s smile faltered, anger flashing through her dark eyes. “An unforeseen circumstance that will not happen twice. Your sister is dead. Drake saw to that himself.”
Drake smiled.
Dro looked between them, hoping to find their lie. But they just kept smiling. Dro started shaking her head.
“No,” she whispered, barely a breath. “No.”
Isabel smiled almost sympathetically, and took another step into the dark room. “Don’t cry, Andromeda. Rejoice. The time is almost upon us. You shall set them free. All the souls condemned to Hell. You will be a savior for the lost.”
“No. I’m not doing anything for you.” Dro’s voice trembled with sorrow and anger. Her power surged. “Because of you, all those people at Owl Creek are dead.” The air became heated and heavy. “Because of you, my parents are dead. Constance is…” She couldn’t say it. She didn’t want to say it. Doing so would make it true.
Isabel’s eyes turned completely black. She held out her hand to Dro and concentrated. A thousand invisible knives stabbed into Dro’s nerves. She screamed as pain consumed her, numbing out her building powers. Dro dropped onto her side and cried out again as Isabel twisted her hand, like she was twisting all the knives at once.
She lowered her hand and the torture stopped. Dro’s body convulsed in agony. Tears seeped past her eyelids.
“Know this, halfbreed. Just because your father desires you, does not mean you can’t be harmed.”
Dro twisted her head to look up at Isabel. “How can you know my father? He was human.”
Isabel smiled. “Was he?”
She held out her hand and shot the painful spell at Dro. She screamed as the invisible knives ripped in her body again. The pain was so intense she began to black out–
–I stepped back from Sephiel, wondering why the room was shaking. Then I realized that it wasn’t the room. It was me.
I replayed the whole scene. Isabel was alive. On the side of the demons. Torturing Dro. Feeling her pain was enough to threaten tears again, but I held them back and looked for the rage. It was easier to find, and didn’t hurt half as much.
I looked over and saw that Rorikel had taken his hand away from Warrick’s head. The demon slayer looked at me with horror, then with pity. I turned my head away from him. I didn’t need pity. I needed to save Dro, and kill Isabel.
“The pull was definitely from Athens,” Max whispered from behind me. He sounded so broken-hearted that I couldn’t look at him. “She’s there. I’m positive.”
“Do you know that woman, Constance?” Sephiel asked. “Isabel?”
Just hearing her name almost sent me over the edge. I put my hand on the hilt of my hatchet and gripped it tightly.
“Yeah, I know her,” I said. “She’s the one who caused the Owl Creek Slaughter.”
The angels may not have been familiar with the slaughter, but Warrick and Max were. They knew the background, what the media had released. But they didn’t know the details as intimately as I did. They didn’t have nightmares of blood and screams. They didn’t wake up with fear at the first smell of smoke.
I moved over to the bed and sat down, taking the hatchet from my hip and turning it in my hands. I sighed, and told them what really happened at Owl Creek…
Dro was turning ten years old. Her birthday was on a weekend, but both Mom and Dad were able to get time off to spend it with us. I was fourteen, so while Dro was inside the camper baking and cooking with Mom, I was helping Dad chop the firewood. He was busy carving Dro’s gift from a leftover piece of wood.
I looked up and glanced around the camp, not really looking for anything or anyone.
Until I saw her.
Isabel.
I’d never seen her here before. That was my first clue that something was wrong. The second was that she wasn’t dressed for camping. No fleece jacket, hiking boots, or jeans. Instead she wore a strapless black cloak, long black gloves, and black boots. I gripped the hatchet tightly.
“Dad,” I said. “Isabel’s here.”
My father was confused until he followed my line of sight. Isabel’s eyes found him. She smiled.
Dad turned to me and gripped my shoulders.
“Go inside with your Mom and your sister.”
I didn’t like the way his voice sounded. “But–”
“Just do it, Constance.”
Dad was more than capable of protecting himself, but the feeling in my gut, the one that told me something awful was about to happen, just wouldn’t leave.
But I listened to him and hurried into the camper, the door slamming shut behind me. Mom and Dro looked up from the kitchenette, confusion and worry on their faces. Dro knew immediately that something was happening. She could read me better than anyone.
“Constance?” Mom said. “What’s going on? Where’s your father?”
Just as I was about to speak, I heard raised voices from outside the camper.
“Stay back, Dro,” I ordered as Mom and I rushed toward the window.
We huddled together and looked outside into the darkness, where my father was facing off with Isabel. He was taller and stronger than she was, but I didn’t think she would stand up against him if she couldn’t fight for herself.
“I don’t give a damn,” my father shouted angrily. “You aren’t taking her.”
Isabel scowled. “You don’t understand the implications of refusing like this.”
“I don’t care. I warned you. She isn’t going anywhere with you.”
Isabel’s eyes changed, turning pitch black. I felt a chill go through my bones. Dad took a step back.
“What the–”
“Return the child to me, mortal,” commanded Isabel. In two voices.
One was hers, but another one layered over it. A deep, imposing voice
. The voice a monster might have. “Or you and yours shall suffer greatly.”
I wondered what was on Dad’s face. If he was as scared as I was. Other people were coming out of their campers, curious to see what was going on.
“What are you?” I barely heard my father say.
“Something you cannot comprehend,” Isabel said in her dual voice. “Give her to me.”
Dad took another step back and gripped his carving knife tightly. “No.”
Fury was on Isabel’s face, but I couldn’t tell if it was her own rage, or the rage of the thing controlling her.
“Then this shall be on your head.”
Isabel turned and held out her hands to the air.
For a second, nothing happened. For one, perfect second, I thought Isabel was just a mentally ill woman.
Then the world split open like a raw, bloody wound, and creatures poured out.
There were dozens of them. Some of them were red and humanoid. Others were grey and sickly. There were black wisps of smoke, huge dogs, bulky brutes, and things that moved too fast for me to see. As soon as their feet touched the grass, they scattered and began killing everyone they could.
I saw the red monsters tear out people’s innards with their claws. The grey ones ripped apart whoever they could and stuffed chunks of torn skin into their hungry maws. Smoke-monsters forced themselves down human throats and made them attack their loved ones. Dogs leaped and tore limbs clean off. The brutes grabbed anyone in range and used their massive fists to turn people into pulps of red flesh. Some of the campers were dragged toward the hole in the world, gripping at tufts of grass as desperately as they could. Flames curled around RV’s and tents, turning the night black and red with smoke and fire.
It was literally Hell on earth.
The thing inside Isabel threw back her head and laughed.
My father rushed her and stabbed her in the back with his carving knife. The sound she made was definitely from her, a short bark of pain. Isabel whirled before Dad could pull the knife out. The thing inside her was furious, but it made Isabel smile.
“You are brave, mortal,” she remarked with her two voices. “But foolish. You can kill this body, but you cannot kill me.”
Isabel tore the knife from her back, and sliced it across my father’s throat.
Her movements were so quick I almost didn’t have time to register what happened. One moment my father was standing there facing off with Isabel, then there was a spray of red liquid across her face, and then Dad was lying on the ground.
Mom screamed like someone was tearing her heart out. Dro started to cry. I ran for the door, just as monsters kicked it in.
I skidded to a halt when I saw them. I stumbled but didn’t fall, moving back to Dro. The monster was human-shaped and had dark red skin, and blood in its disgustingly wide smile.
The monster shrieked and launched itself at me at the same time I swung the hatchet that I still held. Its claws grazed my shoulder and chest, just as the hatchet connected with its upper arm. The monster was surprised that I attacked it, though not half as surprised when my mom charged it with a furious roar, a butcher knife in her hand.
She and the monster tumbled out of the camper. She stabbed wildly at it, lost in a grief-stricken rage.
But it wasn’t enough.
Another red monster appeared behind her and tore her off the one she was trying to kill, throwing her onto the ground. The monster she attacked sprang up like its wounds were nothing more than papercuts. One of them trapped her arms over her head while the second straddled her body. The one near her head sank its teeth into her throat while the one pinning her slashed its claws wildly across her chest, cutting her to ribbons. Mom screamed again, but it was a scream of pain as the monsters ripped her apart.
I was frozen with shock and fear until I heard Dro sob. I whirled to face my little sister. Tears streamed her pale face. She looked terrified. So was I, but I couldn’t let it show right now. I had to get her out of here, or the monsters would kill her too.
I grabbed her shoulders and shook her once so she would look at me.
“Back window, run!”
Dro jumped, but ran for the back of the camper. I was right behind her when another monster came in.
It crashed through the broken door and didn’t stop when it saw us. I shoved Dro further back toward the window, hoping she would focus on escaping. I had to buy her time. The red monster slammed into me and knocked me onto my back, blood smearing its chin. My mother’s blood.
I bit back a scream and tried to push it off, but it was stronger than me. It picked me up like I weighed nothing. I kicked and thrashed, hacking at it with the hatchet. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dro half out of the back window, hesitating.
“Go!” I screamed, slicing the hatchet into the monster’s face.
I didn’t know if she listened to me or if she made it, because the monster threw me out of the camper door. I hit the ground hard, rolling on the grass and getting fresh bruises. The hatchet nicked me a couple times, but I wasn’t seriously hurt.
Until the monster jumped on me and tried to rip off my arm.
I screamed in pain as it pulled harder and harder, muscles and tendons stretching to the point of snapping. My finger clenched around the hatchet. I slammed it up into the monster’s chest, then into its face. It finally recoiled and let me go. I couldn’t tell if I’d killed it or not. I clutched my arm and winced, rolling to see what was going on in the camp.
I wish I hadn’t looked. I would never forget what I saw.
Everything was burning. Everyone was screaming. Blood was everywhere. I could almost taste it like I tasted the heavy smoke in the back of my throat. Adrenaline and fear were the only things that kept me moving. I got to my feet and started looking for my little sister, running through the slaughter. I ran from the people I used to know, even when they reached out and begged for help.
I screamed when someone grabbed my ankles and pulled me down. I twisted, kicking and screaming at my attacker. But it wasn’t a monster. It was one of the campers. Blood painted his chin and was splattered on his cheeks. Both of his legs were ragged stumps of shredded flesh, missing at the knee. He was way too pale.
“Please,” he gurgled through bloody lips. “Please kill me.”
I couldn’t move. I was too scared. One of the big dogs suddenly appeared at his side, huge teeth chomping down into his stumped legs. He was dragged away from me. I don’t know if it was him who screamed, or if it was me.
I heard a familiar scream through all the chaos and twisted on the grass. I saw Dro by the tree line in the grip of a red monster. I got up and ran as fast as I could. She cried and struggled, and I ran faster. It wasn’t long before she saw me.
Dro’s icy blue eyes were wide and terrified. “Connie!” she screamed.
The monster hit her across the face, sending her sprawling onto the grass. I ran faster.
It was turning when I slammed into it, sending us both onto the ground. I tried to hit it with the hatchet, but it was so much stronger than me. It punched me in the chest and knocked me onto my back. I rolled on the ground to avoid its claws. It snapped its sharp teeth and hissed at me. Somehow I found my footing and swung the hatchet again. This time I hit the monster in the arm with the weapon, black blood gushing out of its wound.
The back of the monster’s hand cracked against my face, sending me crashing onto the charred ground. I panicked, my breathing ragged. I’d lost the hatchet and was looking for something, anything, to fight back with–
The monster screamed.
I twisted on the ground, and saw that it was on fire. Not a normal, red and orange fire, but a fierce, white-hot flame that I knew was a hundred times hotter than any bonfire I’d ever been close to. The heat was sweltering, a thick, humid air that coated my throat and made it hard to breathe.
The white fire was burning the demon, turning into black ash.
The white fire was coming from my sister’s h
and.
Because my sister was on fire.
It burned around her like a bonfire, but she wasn’t being hurt. Not even her clothes were being singed. Tears streaked her face. She looked at me, crying and consumed by flames.
“Help me, Constance.”
I was confused, scared, and hurt, but her words still cut me to the core. Finally she couldn’t contain the blaze anymore and collapsed onto the ground, the fire suddenly going out from her. The grass around her was engulfed in flame.
I surged forward, carefully dodging the line of white fire as it cut along the grass. I hauled her up, the heat from the ground making it hard to breathe. She was barely conscious. The fire didn’t seem to have harmed her physically, but now wasn’t the time to wonder why.
I draped Dro’s arm over my shoulder, found the hatchet and picked it up. I navigated us behind the burning grass, and carried her to one of the only cars that wasn’t on fire. I wasn’t old enough to drive, but we had to get out of here as fast as we could. I put Dro in the front seat and got into the driver’s side. Dad showed me how to drive a couple times, getting me ready for my license. I wasn’t an expert, but my feet could reach the pedals. I fumbled around for the keys, finding them in the compartment by the coffee holders. I started the car and looked up, and saw Isabel.
She was staring at me beyond the fire Dro had made. She couldn’t get through now, and she was furious. The look in her eyes promised vengeance. The fire had spread too far and she was trapped behind it, along with the monsters. None of them could walk around that fire.
I glared at her with just as much hatred. If I saw her again, I was going to kill her.
I started the car, shifted, and drove into the forest, turning my back on the massacre…
Chapter 15
There wasn’t anything more to say after that. When I looked up, all the men were staring at me. Max looked horrified, the angels were unreadable, and Warrick was looking at me sadly again.
I straightened my back and ignored it all. I didn’t need their pity. What happened at Owl Creek happened years ago. I was stronger now than I was back then. The only thing breaking me down was losing Dro, and I had every intention of getting her back.