“The spell,” the book reminds me. “It’s time, Amanda.”
Yes, it is. “Rewop rieht em tnarg won, ssenkrad uoy evig I, thgil uoy evig I.”
Both angel and demon stare at me, eyes wide open. Next thing I know, light streams out of the angel’s eyes just as darkness pours out of the demon’s.
The angel drops his blade moments before the vessels go up in flames. I reach for the sword, handing it to Clyde. “Let’s hit it.” I turn to the door. “Hellam Township is a two-day drive and the full moon won’t wait for us.”
I stop next to Alex. There’s a pretty bad hole at the back of his head. He’s going to bleed out. Maybe I should end his suffering. Kill him right here, right now.
“No,” the book insists. “Death is too easy. Let him watch the world burn.”
Whatever.
Chapter 34
Alex
An annoying as fuck beeping echoes through my scrambled brain, and my ears ring like a mother. Last time I felt so miserable, I struggled to survive a hellhound attack.
“Are you sure Amanda did this to him?” a familiar voice pushes through the ringing and beeping.
After a short pause, B says, “We weren’t inside. But…”
“He kept saying her name when we found him,” Jesse adds.
When they found me? Does that mean I’m not in the B&B anymore? Then where am I?
“Sorry,” another well-known voice mutters. “I just don’t believe Amanda could have done this to him. She loves that asshole.”
“Hey,” Jesse barks. “That’s my brother you’re talking about.”
“Yeah,” the male voice shoots back. “I know.”
“You’re a prick, Bay.”
Bay, huh? Yup, explains why his voice reminded me of hemorrhoids. On the bright side, it means the other familiar voice belongs to JJ. They were headed our way together.
“Guys,” B barks. “Break it up, all right?”
“I just said what everyone else is thinking,” Bay replies, matter-of-factly. “When it comes to Amanda, Alex acted like an ass.” Can’t argue with that.
I try to open my eyes before the two strangle each other. Too fucking bad my eyelids are heavier than the rock securing Jesus’s grave.
“Mr. Remington?”
Yes?
“Doc,” Jesse says. “Any idea when my brother’s going to wake up?”
Dude, I am awake. Sorta.
“Can we speak in private?” The doc sounds as serious as the one in Bakersfield who told us Manda might not survive the gunshot wound Walter inflicted.
“We’re his family,” JJ interferes. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of us.”
“She’s right,” Jesse adds.
Someone, I assume the doc, sighs heavily. “Your brother suffered major trauma to his head causing brain swelling. We administered some drugs to help relieve the swelling, but we had to put him in an artificial coma.”
An artificial coma? How’s that even possible? I can hear what they’re saying, goddammit. It does explain why I can’t open my eyes, though.
“What does that mean?” B sounds worried. I’m pretty sure that’s a failure in my perception caused by the drugs they gave me. The mamba can’t stand me. I don’t think she gives a fuck if I ever wake up again.
“It means we have to wait and see.” The doc sighs again. “If the swelling goes down, we can slowly wake him up. Until then, we’ll keep him as comfortable as possible.”
“In other words, you’re pumping him full of pain meds hoping his brain returns to a normal size?” JJ earns a gold star for bitchiness.
“Yes,” the doc replies. “You could say that.”
Wait. What? No! I gotta get the hell out of here and find Manda. I recall her saying something about Hellam Township, a two-hour drive, and the full moon.
On the first day, she saved his soul. On the sixth day, she’ll climb the throne. The prophecy comes true when the moon—is full, I guess. We have to find her before it’s too late. Before she unleashes hell on earth.
“And there’s nothing else you can do for him?” Jesse is beaten up.
“I’m afraid there isn’t.”
My little brother won’t take no for an answer. “But—”
“Thanks, Doc,” B cuts him off. “We understand.”
“What the hell?” Jesse barks.
“There’s only so much Western medicine can do, Jess.” The way she emphasizes Western, tells me she has something voodoo up her sleeves. “Trust me,” she pleads. “You know you can.”
“Fine. We’ll wait.”
“I’ll check in later,” the doc says.
A door slams shut.
“Okay, whatcha got, B?” JJ sounds curious as hell.
“I’m gonna write down a list of things I need,” she explains. “Get me the stuff and I’ll try to get someone who can help Alex.”
“Whatever you need,” Jesse assures her.
I’m not a fan of witchcraft, but if it can get me out of this delirium I’m game. It’s two minutes to midnight. Not just for the world, for Manda too.
****
I’m not sure how much time passes. One minute, I feel like I’m floating. As if I’m outside my body roaming the world. I walk bare foot through sand dunes, stick my toes in warm salt water, and gaze at the blue sky. Then I’m back at the hospital, listening to my worried friends. Jesse isn’t sure B’s plan—whatever it is—is so great. JJ thinks he’s overreacting. And Bay, believe it or not, agrees with my brother. Me? I just want to be able to open my damn eyes.
I think I’m taking a sunbath somewhere in the Indian Ocean, when pressure builds in my chest. It hurts like a bitch. Comparable to an elephant napping on top of me.
Distant voices break through the clear, cobalt sky.
Whispers.
Groans.
Chants.
A dark cloud obscures the blazing fireball above. Palms leveled by heavy winds. My chest is lighter, but my head pounds like a damn drum.
The voices grow louder, closer. I can’t make out what they’re saying.
The winds rouse the sands. Soon, I’m in the midst of a sandstorm and the sun is completely swallowed by the dark cloud.
“Alexander?” None of my friends calls me that. “Open your eyes, hunter.” The tone is sharp and unforgiving.
Chills ripple through me, the warmth of the Indian Ocean long forgotten. But no matter how hard I try, my eyelids won’t move. I’m a prisoner of my own mind.
“It’s not working,” Jesse hisses.
A tongue clicks. “Give it some time,” B says, her voice like a bucket full of ice. “His brain was damaged good.”
A finger is between my eyebrows. The touch is cold and unpleasant, but it does something to me. I start to feel my limbs again.
“C’mon, hunter.”
Ants crawl all over me.
“Yes, good.”
My eyelids twitch.
The pressure between my eyes grows stronger, forcing the blackness into oblivion.
My eyes pop open. The fluorescent light blinds me. I blink over and over. Then, after an eternity of blurriness, I spot them—eyes the color of snow. “Welcome back.”
Instinct kicks in. I sit straighter than a damn candle. “B?”
She smiles. “Not quite, but a close call.”
I’m not into puzzles right now. “Who…”
“Berith,” she replies.
The Princess of Hell? She healed Jesse and B after she tortured them. It was part of the deal the mamba struck with her. The demon would heal them, swear not to harm Leandro, and in exchange, B would find Manda. Question is why would she heal me? Did B strike another deal with her? Did Jesse?
Scanning the sterile room, I find my little brother next to the demon. He looks pale and tired, but his palms aren’t bleeding. Good. You need to sign hellish contracts with crimson. In a chair, by my bed, sits JJ. Spine straight, she squeezes my hand. Bay, the Malleus hunter, is next to her. A ha
lf-smile on his lips, he nods once.
“What…the…” My brain has the consistency of pudding, making it hard to form coherent sentences. “Hell?”
Berith, aka the Nun, aka Princess of Hell inches closer. “I’m sure you’ve got questions, hunter. But so do I.”
I reach for a glass of water, but JJ is quicker. “There you go.”
“Thanks,” I croak, mouth dry.
Gulping down the whole glass, I face the demon. “What do you want to know?”
“You saw Amanda, didn’t you?”
I nod.
“She’s infected, I assume?”
If by infected she means Manda has lost her damn mind and rocks a body full of black veins then, “Yes.”
Her shoulders droop; hope escaping like hot air. “How bad is it?”
Everyone stares at me, expecting the worst, praying for the best.
“It’s bad.” So much so, she almost killed me. What am I saying? She left me there to die. She wanted me gone. That much I remember. But there’s something else I recall. “It’s not too late.”
Berith squints. “The injuries she inflicted on you say differently.”
“No.” I prop my elbows into the mattress, pushing myself farther up. “There’s still part of old Manda inside her.” I pause, her emerald eyes flashing across my mind. “I almost got through to her. But somehow, someone told her about my encounter with her mother. Then…” I trail off. They already know what happened next.
Jesse’s jawline hardens. “Alex, I get you want to save her. Trust me, I’m aware what she means to you…to us, but—”
“No!” I bark, strength returning to my voice. “She’s not lost, okay?”
“She isn’t,” JJ says, probably to make me feel better. “Amanda is strong. She can fight this.”
Berith rubs her chin. “Did she act weird?”
I almost laugh. “Apart from the fact she had the sheriff and a woman cuffed and almost killed me?”
“They needed them as vessels to break the fifth lock,” Berith explains. “Now we have a dead Knight of Hell and a dead cherub on our hands.” She draws a deep breath. “I understand you want to save her, but she’s—”
“Going to be okay.” I have to believe that. Or else I might die from desperation. “I can fix this. I swear I can get through to her.”
Bay rubs his temples. “Hate to say it, Remington, but after what she”—he tilts his chin at the princess—“told us, there’s no way you can fix this on your own.” A dry laugh escapes his mouth. “Man, I’m not sure an army could stop the world’s end.”
“Maybe not one army,” Berith says.
I ogle her. “What are you saying?”
Her gaze darts from my brother to me. “I’m saying this is an all-hands-on-deck situation.”
JJ frowns. “Elaborate.”
She studies us. “The way I see it we all want the same, don’t we?”
“So?” Bay grumbles.
“Let’s combine forces,” she suggests.
Bay laughs.
Jesse’s jaw drops.
JJ gives me the what-the-hell look.
Me? I think this might actually be the answer to my prayers. A Princess of Hell commands a legion. Together, we might stand a chance. “Hunters and demons working side by side?”
“If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.” Working with hunters can’t be her first choice. But the demon seems to be running out of options.
“You can’t be serious,” Bay barks. “Hunters will never, ever go for this.”
“You better convince them.” Berith flashes me a half-smile. “Because my demons found your son.”
I’m on my feet in a heartbeat. “Where is he?”
“Alex,” JJ hisses.
I ignore her, getting in Berith’s face. “Where is Leandro?”
“Alex!” JJ is killing my last nerve.
“What?”
She points to my arm. “You’re bleeding.”
Yup, I am. Looks like I pulled the IV when I jumped out of bed. “I don’t care.” I just want to know where my son is.
Berith scans my face. “I’ll tell you where he is.” I literally hear the “but” coming. “But first I need to know if you guys are in.”
I don’t hesitate. “I am.”
“Alex,” Bay starts. “The others—”
I shoot him a killer look. “You think they’d rather watch the world go down in flames?”
“No,” he replies. “But—”
“No buts. We’re in,” I reassure the demon. “But there have to be some rules.”
She smirks. “Lay them out.”
It’s simple. We kill no demons; they kill no hunters. No one and I mean absolutely no one, touches a hair on Leandro’s scalp. And Manda is my responsibility. I screwed up her life; I’m the one who fixes it. Oh, yeah, there’s the all-rules-apply-after-the-fight-too term. You know, just in case we make it out alive and Berith here thinks she can whack us.
There’s a spark of respect in her eyes. “You’re a quick study, hunter.”
I think of B. “Had a great teacher.”
“All right.” Jesse steps between us. “I hate to break the news, but we don’t even know where Manda is.”
“Hellam Township,” Berith and I say in unison.
“In sync with a demon,” Bay grumbles. “How very Justin Timberlake of you, Remington.”
Jesse pays no attention to him. “How can you be sure?”
“I overheard them talking about it,” I admit.
He eyeballs Berith, waiting for her to answer.
She rolls her eyes. “What kind of hunters are you?”
JJ cocks a brow. “The kind that sends bitches like you to purgatory, darling.”
She waves a non-existing white flag. “Relax, sweetheart.” She draws a deep breath. “Hellam Township is where the main gate to hell is located.”
The gate to hell is in Pennsylvania? Damn, I always figured the way Donovan McNabb played was inhuman.
Chapter 35
What’s normal? For some, it’s being greeted by your Martha Stewart-like wife and the scent of fresh-made lasagna. For me, it’s walking into a shabby motel room, smelling like old socks and mold. Pretty much like the Modernaire Motel in York, where we’ll rendezvous with Berith. The Princess of Hell allowed us to use her private jet again. It took us to Lancaster Airport where Demon-Boy and Pink Nail Polish waited on us with two cars—a pink Mini Couper, and a Bumblebee Camaro.
Jesse, B, and I were lucky enough to catch a ride with Demon-Boy. He drove like a lunatic. Once or twice, I pictured us kissing a damn tree. Jesse and JJ? Well, let’s just say they’re still a few miles away. Pink Nail Polish, opposed to her brother, drives like a snail.
I haven’t thrown my duffle bag onto the bed yet when B’s phone buzzes. “Mom,” she half-yells into the speaker, throwing her curls over one shoulder. “Tell me they agreed.” She pauses, her face unreadable. “So what does that mean?” The mamba’s face lights up. “Awesome. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
She shoves her phone in her pocket, facing me with a massive grin. “They’ll be here early tomorrow morning.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Good. We can use all the help we can get.”
“Dude,” Jesse grumbles. “Who are you?”
I’m the guy who needs to make sure his family gets out of this in one piece. And if it requires working with demons and witches then so be it.
Demon-Boy draws a deep, unhappy breath. Probably because they are B’s two older brothers, and her mom. Rumor has it; she’s the high-priestess of the New Orleans coven. Or in Demon-Boy’s words, she’s the mother of all mambas. When the demon heard B had invited them to join the end-of-days party, he lost it. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he barked. “I’m not going anywhere near your damn family.” He already struggled with the fact Jesse and I had called Carter and Amelia, asking them to gather as many hunters as possible to meet us in Hellam Township. Adding B’s family was ju
st too much for the skinny demon.
B just laughed. “Scared they’ll sent your sorry ass back to hell?”
Demon-Boy shut his mouth and kept driving.
The door flings open. Pink Nail Polish and the rest of the gang finally made it to the motel. The demon’s gaze darts to her brother. “I got a call from the boss. We need to go.”
“A call?” Bay grumbles. “I didn’t see you on your phone.”
B blows out a frustrated breath. “Because demons don’t need Apple to communicate.” She casts the hellish siblings a dark glance. “Isn’t that right?”
Pink Nail Polish, aka Jules, aka former classmate of Manda, shrugs. “Looks like we’re just cooler.” B’s about to argue with her, but the chick’s already hauling her brother to the exit. “We’ll be back in a few. And”—she peeks over her shoulder—“don’t do anything stupid. Remember, we’re the only ones who know where your little boy is.”
“How could I forget?” Berith refused to share Leandro’s location in the hospital. She didn’t trust me to stick to our agreement once I had his location. Sorta hurts when a demon accuses you of treachery.
She studies me. “Just needed to make sure you know what happens if you fuck with us.” That said, she’s ready to hit the road to take care of whatever it is they have to take care of. I’m pretty sure it involves murder and mayhem, daily demon madness.
“Hey.” B stops them. “You better come back and tell us where Leandro and Melinda are. Or—”
Demon-Boy is in her face. “Or what?”
“Or”—the mamba flashes him a scary smile—“I’ll introduce you to my brothers.”
Demon-Boy’s eyes widen. It takes a second for him to regain control. “Maybe I should kill you right now.”
Jesse is between them in a heartbeat. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“C’mon, G.” Pink Nail Polish drags the aggravated demon toward the door. “You know the boss hates it when we’re late.”
The moment they leave, Jesse sees his chance to let me know what he truly thinks of all this. “Dude.” He scrubs his fingers through his hair. “I know you think this is the right thing to do, that you can save Leandro and Manda with the help of those bitches, but”—he sighs, heavily—“what happened to sticking to the golden Alexander-Remington rule?”
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