Blood Debt (The Blood Sisters Book 2)

by Jill Cooper

  The homes were gone.

  There was evidence there had once been homes. Brick and concrete foundations chipped and cracked, but what could have done such a thing? It was like a giant tornado had swept the homes away, but where to?

  There was little debris. Too little.

  Gwen stopped the car and leapt out. In the cool night air, she approached a set of tires on the ground. Bending down she touched a steel rod lying beside them.

  Had this been a car? What had done this?

  “Mike,” Gwen raced to his spot on what would’ve been a walkway to the front door. Bent over, he scooped blackened dust sprinkled with bits of purple fabric and let it trickle through his fingers.

  His chin crumbled as his frowned. “We better check on Arch. There’s nothing we can do here. This place is gone.”

  “The people?” Gwen turned on her flashlight and rushed passed the crumbling foundation. She shined her light on the debris. A splintered table lay on its side by an old fireplace. As if it melted, it molded with the floor remains. Beside it, a dirty baby doll with half its face gnawed off. Oh God, what happened to this place?

  Gwen covered her mouth, thinking of all that had been lost here. The children? The people?

  “Grief now will only slow us down, Genevieve.” Mike tugged on her arm. “Come from this place. It’s still too fresh. The dead need time to settle. If we disturb them now…”

  She nodded solemnly as Mike led her out of there. Gwen hopped back into her jeep, grateful that it was still running. Shifting into drive, she feared what they might find further on, but they continued.

  Deeper into the city. Deeper into the ruin.

  Like a war-torn city, crumbled foundations all around them, intermingled with the damage of fallen power lines. Uprooted trees lay on their sides, blocking the way up the hill toward Archibald’s estate. Gwen cut the engine to the jeep and grabbed her bag from the back. “Traveling on foot is going to be risky,” she said.

  Mike joined her side with his M-4A1 gripped in his hand, the strap casually over on the shoulder. Stoned face as they approached the fallen trees, he had no commentary.

  Gwen raised her eyebrows. Be that way then, she thought and shined her flashlight onto the trunk of the tree in their way. The bark was torn, gnawed by something, but she was unsure what could have done so much damage. It was magical, that much was a given.

  “Over here.” Mike nudged the roots of the tree with his foot.

  She shined her light upon it and saw the wriggling masses of maggots falling to the ground. Splattering into the mud, they rolled around on top of each other, becoming bigger as the mud packed together into discs. Growing and shifting, the shifts grew tall like cylinders. It took a moment, but Gwen’s eyes were witnessing the creation of a man.

  Demons growing out of the dirt.

  “Mike,” Gwen said with alarm.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the fallen tree so they could get to the other side. By the ravine, four shadows grew from compacted mud and maggots. Their bodies complete, they started a slow march toward the two humans.

  “So much for slow and easy,” Mike fired into the demons. He backed up as they grew closer.

  Nice as it was to watch him work Gwen needed to pitch in. “You’re the one who’s always been the optimist, dear.” She threw her arms down by her side, fingers locked and fully extended. The wind began to pick up. A crackle of thunder approached from the west and a surge of lightning rained down from the sky.

  The elements were at her beck and call. She would forever be their master, but they were hard to control for someone who wasn’t a demon. She lifted her hands and shot a bolt of lightning toward the charging creatures. It hit one, lighting it on fire, before surging into another. Mud and maggots exploded everywhere.

  Mike yelped as guts sprayed him. Gwen sailed through the air under the force of her own power. Her back hit a streetlamp. Grimacing, she fell down to her butt. Up above, the light swayed in erratic delight—it was going to fall.

  Giving a yell, Gwen rolled out of the way, pressing her body up against a rock to avoid being hit by the lamp post. “We’ve got to move!” Mike grabbed her hand and forced her up.

  Running up the hill, Gwen glanced back at the mud demons putting their bodies back together. Well, that had never happened before, had it? These creatures were different. These creatures weren’t regular demons.

  Only one could be responsible for what was happening here. The answer terrified Gwen, so she refused to admit the truth as they reached the mansion’s black iron gate. She slammed her hand against the red call button. Mike took point, turning around to fight the demons, but it would only slow them down.

  No answer from the house. Peering through the gate, Gwen saw the dark mansion—no lights were on anywhere. “Damnit, Arch,” with a mutter she hit the call button repeatedly.

  “They’re coming up the hill,” Mike took a deep breath, “If he hasn’t answered now, he’s not going to.”

  “Can you climb?” Gwen asked.

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Mike sneered. “I’m not twenty anymore.”

  “So I noticed. I’ll hot wire this, baby.” Gwen ripped the panel open and with her fingers pressed against the wires, an electrical pulse built in the pit of her stomach. Warm, but with a slight tickle, Gwen felt like laughing as her fingertips glowed silver and zapped the wires.

  The gate started to slowly swing open. “Time to move, Mike!” Gwen slipped into the open space. Mike fired wide, laying down protective cover to drive the demons back, before retreating behind the gate with her.

  The sopping wet ground tried to claim Gwen’s boots. Lifting the control panel’s lid, Gwen pushed the button to close it again—that at least still worked.

  “Look at this place,” Mike muttered, his back to her.

  Gwen followed his gaze and saw the mansion wasn’t as she had last seen it. Now it was solied brown and dingy with mud. Vines grew from the ground, matted across windows and doors as if something didn’t want to let Archibald out—that or he didn’t want to let anyone in. They had to find a way inside and make sure he was okay.

  Up the steps they raced and Gwen grabbed at the vines. Coarse and thick, they pricked her fingers as she tore them off. She hissed a breath as the thorns on them drew blood. “I think we have a problem.” Witnessed by her own eyes, the vines grew back, this time, larger. Tighter.

  “Not our only problem.” Mike pointed back at the gate where the demons raged against the iron wrought gate. Their mud smooshed through the bars and fell to the ground. Once on the other side, the demons remade themselves.

  Disgusting.

  Gwen wasn’t even sure demons were the right word for these guys. They seemed mindless as drones and didn’t have much skill so far when it came to fighting. “Quick, around the back!”

  Racing down the steps, Gwen ran to the side of the mansion. The windows were protected by bars so she kept going, following along property until she was winded. Her lungs on fire for breath, Gwen reached the back of the building. “There has to be something. We can’t keep doing this all night.”

  Mike bent over and removed some moss. “Look here! Basement access.”

  He was right. A hidden bulkhead that would lead them inside. “Quick, get inside.”

  Throwing the doors open, Mike offered Gwen his hand. “Ladies first.”

  It was no time to be gentlemanly, but she didn’t have time to argue either. Gwen waved off his hand and pounded down the stairs. Inside, Mike closed the door and shoved a bar through the handles. If the demons found them, it wouldn’t be very easy for them to get inside.

  Gwen flicked her flashlight around. As far as basements went, this one was neatly organized. Everything had its place. In-line bookcases and deep mahogany walls with crystal chandeliers. The hardwood floors were an antique strain that made Gwen feel badly for tracking her muddy boots all over them.

  Archibald hadn’t spared any expense.

  They fou
nd a curved stairwell and dashed to the top. “Let’s find Archie. For the love of God, I hope he’s all right. We’re going to need him to get out of this.”

  “This is happening because she’s free, isn’t it? Lourdes walks among the living and—.” Mike rushed on speaking in a manner unlike him. He was more than a little frightened.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Gwen said, but she already knew the truth. Mike was right, but to admit that now—she needed more time to formulate a plan. One that didn’t end up with her sacrificing Amanda to the pits of the underworld. There was only despair there and Amanda—she deserved so much better than that.

  Slowly Mike opened the door, his hand flicked out to pause her advance. She waited patiently for him to give the word. His posture was rigid and Gwen caught a whiff of his cologne, not much different than the one he used to wear. She couldn’t avoid glancing at his rugged profile, remembering all those years ago…putting a rapid thump-thump into her heart like a well-laid plan.

  “Coast is clear. Come,” Mike took her hand and led her upstairs. It was so easy for him, wasn’t it? To touch her like it meant nothing. As if touching her hadn’t once set his heart on fire? Now the touch was casual, not even the type between friends.

  More like how you would touch a stranger when offering assistance. Gwen didn’t see any of the old flame burning inside of him.

  Good, because they had a job to do. If only Gwen’s sentiments were true. No, part of her wanted to see that old fire burning in his eyes. Instead it smoldered like flame dosed in ash. No longer here, no longer anywhere.

  They exited the servant’s area into the main foyer of the mansion. The lights were off, but thanks to the tower like bay windows, the white floors gleamed under the sunlight. Giant bookcases stretched up seemingly for miles and more than just books covered their shelves. Treasures and trinkets from a world long past were displayed proudly and led Gwen to a solid wooden door.

  She placed her hand against it, but could feel nothing about the inside. Times like this, Gwen really wished Amanda was around, but she had never even met Archibald. No, she needed to protect her youngest niece from the knowledge that man held. He’d never be able to keep it to himself if he met her.

  Gwen pushed open the door with her foot and edged herself inside. Mike closed the gap between them as her foot stepped over the threshold. “Arch—.” A gong sounded and Gwen’s eyes opened wide.

  “Trap,” Mike yelled. He shoved Gwen out of the way and dove into an overstuffed brown recliner. The door exploded with a cloud of smoke.

  Gwen sat up, holding her aching head and glanced at Mike. Crunched up in the chair, he appeared fine, but the door wasn’t. Splintered and destroyed, it smoldered.

  Her temper fumed. Where the hell was Archibald? Storming over to his desk, Gwen opened his drawers, flipped through his books. Mike peered inside a closet. “There’s no one here.”

  Gone. Archibald? It left Gwen with a bad taste in her mouth. What did they do now? If…pushing some papers aside atop the desk, she found an old tattered article written on parchment.

  The ruby heart?

  Of course, Gwen had heard of that before. Was it something that could be used to stop Lourdes and maybe avert Amanda from her troubled destiny? Rolling up the parchment, Gwen had just hidden it in her pocket when a screeching noise from the foyer caught her attention.

  Husks, dozens of husks, filled the foyer. Gwen had heard about how Lourdes would feed once she walked the Earth, but had always hoped to never see it come to pass. Their gray sunken bodies shuffled toward them. Jaws unhinged, heads tilted back, their disgorged locusts circled right toward the den.

  “There’s a secret passage in this closet! Hurry, Gwen!”

  It didn’t take long for the locusts to swarm her. Gwen ducked her head and ran into the stone secret passage. Mike sealed the door shut, but some of the insects got in. They covered her head to foot, biting at her cheeks and ripping at her clothes. She batted them away in a frenzy, as pain pinched her exposed flesh.

  Hands, fingers, cheeks. Anywhere those little suckers could get, tearing slivers of skin. The pinching was everywhere and the rising panic was punctuated by the scattered bits of blood along her eyelids and hands.

  Mike took off his jacket and used it to block the door jam, keeping more locusts from getting in.

  “Ahh!” Gwen screamed, batting away the bugs. End over end, she fell down the stone stairs.

  Mike followed, using his hands to kill what locusts were left on her face. Gwen could barely catch her breath. Taking her face in his hands, Mike studied her eyes. “You all right?” He asked, louder than it needed to be.

  Gwen saw his fear, his concern, and for a brief moment, despite the fact he wanted it to remain hidden, she saw his love. He did still love her, and that realization brought tears to her eyes. The pain of that blocked out the cuts on her face, the bleeding of her hands.

  Mike sighed and pulled her close, hugged her tight. Gwen wrapped her arms around him, buried her head tight against his chest. Able to hear his heartbeat for the first time in decades, it was a familiar song.

  A life beat. Loving and stirring, but inside her soul held hints of bitterness to be away from him for so long. There were no words Gwen could say to express herself. They just didn’t exist. For all they had lost, all that was sacrificed, they were still alive.

  That meant there was still a chance to correct this mess. In the silence, they listened to the locusts battling against the locked door, desperate to get inside. They’d find a way in and when they did, Gwen and Mike be torn apart, limb by limb one piece of flesh at a time.

  Gwen cast her flashlight further into the room and saw they were deep in a cavern. Her eyes traveled down the slanted brick wall until they came to a river. “Michael, look.” Gwen took his hand and led him down the steep hill. As they got closer, he took a glowing lantern off the wall and used that to guide them.

  A lone rowboat was tied to a simple wooden dock. “You think this will get us past them?” Gwen asked.

  The buzzing sound of the locusts drew closer. “I think it’s better than the alternative. Get in and I’ll cast off,” Mike said.

  Gwen was quietly grateful to not be alone. She climbed in the boat and waited for Mike to take the oars, rowing them out of the cavern. Her eyes couldn’t make out daylight or anything other than the darkness. How long could this grotto be and where would they end up?

  From her pocket, she took out her paper. Unrolling them, she studied the drawing on the page. Mike held his small flashlight so she could make out the words. This had to be what Lourdes sent her demons and husks after.

  The Ruby Heart.

  Would it have the power to undo some of the damage she had caused?

  “Where do you think she is?” Mike asked, studying the furrow on her brow. “If her husks and demons are here, where do you think she’s gone?”

  That was a question Gwen was afraid to answer. She thought it might have something to do with Blood.

  28: Jessica Blood

  “Well the coast looks clear,” Amanda said.

  Laying prone on a jagged rock, scoping out the docks, Jessica couldn’t help but agree. That’s what made her nervous. Shipping cargo containers lay out in rows and between them all a damaged yellow school bus. The pier was deserted. No guards, no demons, it was virtually unprotected.

  Not Vaughn’s style. He kept an angel on a leash for nearly a hundred years and now he was flying solo. Nothing about this made a lick of sense and Jessica had to suspect the cargo containers could be filled with waiting guards. At any moment, they could bust open and their day would get a whole hell of a lot worse.

  “You think it’s a trap?” Amanda glanced back at the warehouse. The salty breeze billowing her hair.

  “I think it’s probably a trap, but we have to go in anyway.” Jessica slipped gracefully over the outcropping and crept down the hill; Amanda close by her side.

  To their left, the ocean cast a wav
e tumbling toward the pier—a storm was coming from the way the boats rocked in the harbor. An old fisherman stood by the water, pulling lobster traps off a boat called The Old Maiden.

  Taking cover behind a red cargo container, Jessica whistled to get his attention. “Old timer, get inside. Bad things are about to happen here.”

  Amanda gave Jessica a double glance. “What?” Jessica asked. “I’m tired of people getting hurt, all right?”

  The old fisherman wore a heavy beard and his cheeks were flushed red, as if eternally chapped. He nodded slowly. “I’ve seen my share of storms,” he glared up at the clouds as if just looking at them told him a story. “A storm is coming, and out of nowhere. Today was supposed to be clear skies.”

  Well, that was never good.

  Creeping their way along, Jessica and Amanda used the shipping containers as cover as they ran along the slick pier. Jessica studied the warehouse door, trying to hear movements on the other side, but she heard nothing. Amanda shook her head. “I can’t feel inside.”

  It sure would be nice if Amanda would stop reading her mind.

  Signaling, Jessica stepped out from the bus and the tip of her foot tripped on the blade of a sword. Interested, she bent over and grabbed the hilt. An unremarkable blade, it seemed, but not Vaughn or a demon’s style. So where had it come from?

  Not her style either, Jessica let it go before advancing toward the target. She and Amanda pressed their backs against the warehouse wall on either side of the door. Nodding, Jessica spoke. “Ready?”

  Amanda lifted her hand with her fingers splayed. A glowing ball formed in almost an instant. So much control and power. With appreciation, Jessica nodded her head toward her sister—glad to have her in this fight. Amanda smiled in a proud way, like she was ready to be part of the team.

  Jessica gripped her shotgun and kicked the door open to the warehouse. She quickly moved inside the darkened room, sweeping the perimeter. Cages littered the outside wall and Jess bent down to peer inside.

  Empty—the lot of them. That realization hit Jessica hard. Her legs wobbled as she advanced to scope the place out. Duncan wasn’t here. He was gone.