“Can’t read Cyrillic, so spill. What about it?” She rubbed the surface of the coin, impressed with its pristine condition. The coin could’ve been minted yesterday.
“1801. From my private collection. Which was in that house, last time I checked.” He jabbed an angry finger at the house.
“Your house?” Amaya asked, remembering Bane had said the UnHallowed had checked all of Malphas’s homes.
He nodded. “I left the house and the coins with a caretaker. Someone I trusted.”
“Someone other than Taige or Aiden?” she asked. “Someone you trusted more than Taige or Aiden… A female?” She pressed when he didn’t answer. Tight lipped, Malphas moved on. The rest followed over the brittle, stunted grass.
Malphas kicked open the front double doors and the seven entered the grand foyer. Inside, the beauty of the place had survived decades of neglect. Marble floors and pillars, twin marble and wrought iron staircase, crystal chandeliers, and mosaics that rivaled the beauty of the Sistine Chapel were depicted on the vaulted ceilings. Cleaned of the dust and debris blown in from a broken window, the mansion would be a stunning showpiece.
Amaya kept her opinion to herself and followed Malphas to the staircase. “There are three floors, twenty-five rooms to search, plus an attic and a basement. We split up and leave no stone unturned. Search with your senses, not your eyes,” Malphas ordered.
A few grumbled, but the UnHallowed paired off and obeyed. Everyone except Bane.
She hitched a thumb in Malphas’s direction. “I’m with him. We don’t need you to tag along.” She didn’t wait for Bane’s reply. The Demoni Lord moved to a two-story room lined with bare, dusty shelves reaching to the ceiling. It wasn’t hard to imagine books filling every nook and cranny and a chair close to a cheery fire burning brightly in the stone fireplace. Malphas stood in the center of the room, preternaturally still, while the air around him vibrated in successive waves.
What are you doing? She was tempted to ask but didn’t want to distract.
“He’s testing the air.”
Daghony’s voice so close to her ear surprised her. She reared back, a blade in her hand ready to throw. His shuttered expression didn’t change at the weapon in her hand. “Testing it for what?”
“Residual energy.”
That was a surprise. Spaun and Darklings left something behind?
“It’s subtle and undetectable if you haven’t been exposed to the Spaun you’re searching for,” Daghony murmured.
“So, if Taige has been here, Malphas will sense it?”
Daghony shrugged. “Possibly.”
“You know a lot about this,” Amaya said and earned a frown. “That was a compliment,” she whispered and wondered how he could take it any other way.
“Bane is trying the same method since he is the only UnHallowed to have made contact with the Spaun.” Daghony moved to peer out of a soot coated window.
Amaya glanced at the open door and wondered if Bane had any luck. He would tell them all if he had, still…
The air around Malphas stopped vibrating. “There’s nothing here.” He strode to the next room where he repeated his behavior.
“Were you ordered to keep me company?” She frowned at Daghony who trailed her. She snorted at his smirk.
“I enjoy being placed in the middle of your relationship drama as much as you enjoy having me there,” he murmured.
She bristled, hating being the center of attention. “There is no relationship.” Anymore. “And I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You and I are in agreement. You don’t need a babysitter. Regardless of your human frailties, you have proven you’re sturdier than any human I’ve ever met. Don’t let the compliment go to your head. I haven’t met many humans. I’ll continue my search on my own since, I, too, don’t need babysitting.” With that, Daghony left her alone with Malphas.
Another minute passed before he moved. “Anything?” she asked and received a single shake of his head.
Malphas glanced at the exit. “Suddenly I’m trustworthy to guard the angel?”
“Don’t get your hopes up.” She exited the room and entered another straight out of a Disney movie. The ballroom in Beauty and the Beast came to mind. It even had the prerequisite grand piano in the center of the room. A thick layer of dust covered every inch of the room, including the piano. She wasn’t one for flights of fantasy, but as a child, she had a Disney collection and bought into the bullshit happily ever after fairy tale, until she knew better.
Malphas’s hand on her arm pulled her up short. “Can’t help it. My hopes are up,” he whispered, his voice intense, his breath on her neck. Though he no longer made her skin crawl, that didn’t mean she wanted him touching her. She glared at his hand until he released her arm.
“It’s too soon, I know. But you need to know, I will never treat you like a child. Your place is by my side, not behind me, and not waiting for me at home. Though, I wouldn’t mind that at all. The vision pleases me to no end.” His knuckles grazed her cheek in a gentle, careful touch.
Instead of being unpleasant, it was disturbing because the offer tempted her. Not the not-so-subtle hint of him and her getting horizontal, but the offer of actually working together, as equals.
That’s all she ever wanted from Braile, and Michael, and Bane. And here was Malphas, Demoni Lord, her ultimate enemy, offering her, her secret desire. Offering what others had refused to give.
She took his wrist and moved his hand away. “I’ll keep that in mind. We need to find your lackey, Taige.”
Next thing she knew, his lips were on hers. Shock kept her in place for exactly three seconds. Then she took in the feel and taste of him—none of it unpleasant—and waited for something to happen, for a chemical, cellular reaction that she had with Bane. Waited for her soul to ignite. For lust to sweep her away on a tidal wave of passion. For the constant churning of her mind to cease and for her to just be. Be present. Be one with the person who made her feel whole, not half of something she hadn’t chosen but was forced upon her.
Aaannnnd nothing. She may as well be kissing a rock.
“Amaya.”
She had no reason to feel guilty, yet that didn’t stop her from jerking out of Malphas’s embrace and scrubbing her arm across her lips. “It’s not what you think,” she gasped between breaths.
Bane came to her, blatant aggression twisting his features. “We have to get out of here.” His gaze shifted between both Amaya and Malphas.
That wasn’t what she expected.
“Why?” Malphas demanded.
“Demon traps.”
Something that sounded like a curse left Malphas’s lips.
“What’s a demon trap?” Amaya asked.
“Exactly what it sounds like. It’s a set of glyphs that immobilizes a demon,” Bane said.
So? “Okay, isn’t that a good thing?”
Bane took her by the shoulders and squeezed hard. “UnHallowed are demons, Amaya.”
“Glad to hear you finally admit it.” A sly smile twisted Malphas’s lips.
What Bane said didn’t make sense. “No. You’re a fallen angel—”
“Which makes me a demon,” he stressed.
When they’d first met, she’d called him a demon, yet she didn’t literally mean it. Now, faced with the truth, she didn’t want to believe it. He was nothing like Malphas. It was hard enough accepting he was a fallen angel, now he was a demon and…
Bane took her hand and dragged her out of the room. “Where are the others?” she asked, as he led her to the front door. “Bane, where are the others?” He ignored her until she yanked free. That’s when she sensed fear leeching from him, infecting her. That was the last thing she’d ever expect from either of them. She freed two weapons and backed up. “Talk to me.”
“How do you think I found out about the demon traps?”
Ice surfed her bloodstream. She looked around for Malphas, but he wasn’t behind her. Her gaze strayed to the hallway behin
d Bane, then to the staircase and the floor above. “Daghony.” No answer. “Gadreel, Ioath, Riél?” Nada. “Chay! Kush! Zed! Rimmon!”
Malphas came striding down the hallway behind her. “We have to leave.”
“Finally, you and I agree on something,” Bane snapped.
“Not without the UnHallowed!” Amaya dodged around Bane and ran down the hallway. A sharp pain twisted the muscles in her back and her wings arched over her shoulders. About to unfurl to carry her faster than her feet, Bane tackled her, spun them in mid-air and took the brunt of the fall as he skidded on his back with her safely cradled to his chest. They’d stopped with a birds-eye view of Gadreel and Zed frozen in front of an antique stove in the kitchen, and Ioath and Daghony frozen in front of a set of french doors on the other side of the hallway, in what she supposed was the formal dining room.
Both stood inside of an iridescent ring three feet in diameter, big enough for two if they were walking side by side. Though blank-faced statues, both their eyes were wild and terrified. Or was that just her perception because that’s what she felt.
Terror.
A few scribbled glyphs had taken out the UnHallowed.
Ioath’s gaze lowered to hers. Pain contorted his features as his jaw opened a fraction and he mouthed a single word, Run!
When an UnHallowed orders you to run, haul your ass to your feet and run. Amaya shook her head, more determined than ever. “I won’t leave you.”
Bane’s fingers bit into her shoulders. “We are not leaving them. You are.”
She pushed off him and climbed to her feet. “You’re doing it again. Telling me what to do, treating me like I’m a fucking novice and not an ally!”
Bane slung her over his shoulder. Upside down, she had a perfect view of the floor. She didn’t waste her time beating his back or screaming, mainly because she noticed his erratic stride. He zigzagged his way down the hallway instead of taking a direct path down the middle. It was then she noticed the subtle circular glow every few feet beneath the dusty floor. Demon traps. Had they been there all along or placed there after they entered? Which lead to the question: How close were they? And, How much time do we have?
She caught Malphas out of the corner of her eye, his flame-edged black wings flying him down the opposite hallway toward them. With one hand, he grabbed Amaya by her belt, yanked her off Bane’s shoulder, executed a one-eighty, and flew them to the exit. Still upside down, she heard an explosion, felt debris pelt her legs and back. She looked between her dangling legs to see the entire front wall of the house gone. Had Malphas done that?
“Get her out of here!” Bane shouted. He was only a few paces behind them. Their gazes locked.
I didn’t kiss him.
Good. I’ll kill him later.
I’ll help you. The silent conversation passed between them.
Malphas crossed over the threshold of the house with Amaya and kept flying over the pockmarked lawn. He moved fast, streaking a half mile in seconds, but Bane didn’t follow.
“Wait! Bane! We have to go back and get him.” She pushed off Malphas’s shoulder and took to the air.
Malphas hovered next to her. He made a quick study of the landscape while panic had her assessing each blade of grass. Bane had to be hurt if he wasn’t by her side.
“He’s trapped inside a dimensional pocket around the house.” Malphas pointed at the mansion.
“How can you tell?” she asked, then ate her words because all at once, she could see the silvery strands of power phasing in and out of focus. A barrier surrounded the house with twenty feet to spare. Her heart tripped then banged against her ribs. “UnHallowed can’t go inside dimensional pockets.”
Amaya tore through the sky, racing back to the house, but got no further than the front steps. She spotted Bane slumped on his knees, head buried in his chest, he was just inside the destroyed front entrance. Was it the dimensional pocket? Demon traps? She had no idea what happened to him but knew she had to get him out. Get all of the UnHallowed out.
Her palms outstretched, she called to the energy forming the pocket to unravel and return to the air around her. “Why isn’t this working, Malphas?”
He touched the orb with an open palm. “This isn’t any dimensional pocket I’ve ever seen. It’s woven with the blood of a Chthonian. I didn’t think there were any of those outside of Hell. How did Taige do this?”
“Do what? Trap all the UnHallowed? Free a Chthonian? Whatever the hell that is! We’ll find that out after we free them. Can you do this?” If not, she was prepared to punch her way through.
“There is nothing I can’t do.” He smirked.
If his arrogance worked in her favor, so be it. A sound jerked her around. Grass crunching beneath the feet or a soft chirping, she couldn’t tell. The expanse between the house and the forest was empty, for now. How long that lasted… “Hurry, Malphas.”
“Can’t rush this.” He ran his hand over the surface and came away with a smoky, reddish residue. Seconds ticked away as he pooled that substance into an inky reddish ball of power. “Drain the energy from the dimensional pocket, Amaya.” His voice strained.
She didn’t ask how to do it. She copied Malphas’s actions. Swept her hand over the surface, causing her palm to sizzle. Power shot up her arm, into her chest. Biceps, triceps, the muscles in her shoulder and forearm, seized in a massive cramp. Numbness spread from her fingers into her chest. Her head swam. Her lungs seized. This amount of power she couldn’t control or contain.
“Don’t hold onto it. Let the energy flow through you and disperse,” Malphas commanded.
Amaya was too happy to obey. She relaxed her straining muscles and felt the energy travel through from her fingertips to the soles of her feet and into the ground with a series of rumbles. The pocket dissolved, leaving her wobbly.
Malphas rushed forward to enter the mansion. He made it to what used to be the doorway and bounced twenty feet into the dry grass on the front lawn.
Amaya caught him on the second bounce. Together, they skidded over the ground. Her wings took a beating until Malphas tossed her into the air. She caught a draft and was airborne, her wings flapping hard, taking her into the sky.
Her breath caught.
What. The. Fuck. Where had they come from?
Darklings, thousands of them. Too many to count, with Spaun leading them. And other things, larger than Spaun. Things she had no knowledge of, all spilled out of the forest and headed her way.
“They’ve locked me out! Get out of here, Amaya!” He waved her away and took to the air.
Two broke from the pack and flew to Malphas. There was a quick battle and Malphas went down, hard. One demon pinned his arms to the ground, the other his legs. He struggled to free himself, but Amaya suspected draining the Chthonian energy had weakened him. A third raced over, yanked his head back, and, with a knife, carved something into his forehead.
Like letting air out of a balloon, the fight went out of Malphas.
Ambush. Complete and absolute. They’d planned this ambush well. The UnHallowed, incapacitated. Malphas, their former leader, captured. Amaya, facing a legion of demons, alone.
Chapter Twenty
Deep in the shadow of a twenty-five-foot outcropping of granite, Sammiél studied the lone figure casting a line into the still waters of Lake Willoughby. Though low on the horizon, sunlight dappled the landscape, effectively trapping him where he stood.
At the peak of his power, even though he’d fallen, Sammiél had the capacity to control the weather almost as well as Rimmon. Sammiél couldn’t bring a category five hurricane, but a thunderstorm blocking the sun for a few miles was within his ability. Michael’s recent beating had drained him. The ever-present simmering anger kept him upright, but not for much longer. It would take weeks for him to regain his strength in time for the sixth of the month to repeat the beating. The pact must be maintained.
Weariness, a constant companion, rode him hard. He needed to retreat to his private space insi
de the shadows to heal. After this meeting, he would else risk injuring those around him. A vast well of power resided within his body. Death and destruction. Anyone could kill a single person, a single thing. It took great skill to kill on a global level. That was the true mission of the Archangel of Death. Total annihilation.
Only once had he ever unleashed the power Father had bestowed upon him. In the Great War between angels and demons, when demons freely roamed the earth and the skies, the battle raged for millennia until Father ordered the Archangel of Death to end the war. End it, he did, without mercy, until Metatron reined him in.
When the dust settled, Father created Hell and cast what remained of the demons into the pit. Why He created the Cruor, only He could answer the question no one dared ask. Yet, the answer was simple: Nothing is absolute, not in nature, not in Heaven, not in Hell, not in the universe. Every prison must have an entrance, thus also have an exit.
“What have I done to deserve this visit?”
Daeden’s voice yanked Sammiél back to the present and the man who continued to fish in the waning sunlight. Shouting at each other was not how he wanted to conduct this conversation. “You have me at a disadvantage.”
“Still allergic to the sun, I see.” Daeden packed up his tackle kit and rod and started hiking to the house fifty yards away. “Meet me inside.”
Sammiél took the invitation and melted into the shadows at his back. He exited seconds later in the dark recesses of the single room cabin that smelled of tobacco and pine. There was a murphy bed against the left wall, a kitchenette with a wood-burning potbelly stove behind him, and a desk with a laptop and a cellphone to the right.
Sunlight spilled from a window in front of the desk, splitting the room into Ying and Yang halves as the two beings faced each other. Daeden had changed since the last time they’d met. Gray sprinkled his hair and jaw, and his skin had a weathered, textured look of one who’d lived a life in the sun. Surprising since immortals didn’t age.
It was all an act, of course. Daeden could change his appearance. Reapers could be anyone they needed to be to achieve their goal of reaping a soul. So why the old man instead of someone in their prime?
Only You (UnHallowed Series Book 3) Page 13