by Celia Kyle
“Morningstar,” he growled, voice rumbling like a raging volcano. “The mother and the daughter. Your souls will be a feast the likes of which no creature from On High or Hell has ever known.”
My mother and I backed away, raising our swords. My mother whispered to me, “He can’t be killed in the tween. The only way is to drive him back to Hell and close the gate.”
Goody.
“Well,” I sought my center, refocusing on the fight to come. “At least now I won’t be able to say we never do anything as a family.”
Silaran raised his burning trident high above his head, the evil twining flames of Hell crawling all over the weapon. My mother and I raised our blades, and then together, we rushed him.
24
I leapt to the side, watching the trident stab into the stone right where I’d stood. The rock sizzle and melted, leaving a puddle of magma behind. The heat reached where I stood, singing my hair and burning my skin.
I raced forward, ducking low under Silaran’s reach, then slashed my sword across the back of his ankle, going for the Achilles tendon. If he even had one. My blade dug through the thick stony hide, drawing a spray of flaming blood. But Silaran barely seemed to feel the blow. His hide was so thick. It was like a mosquito poking him.
I had the bad feeling I was about to get swatted.
He swept his trident at me and I jumped back, the very tip of his weapon whizzing past my stomach. I rolled to my feet outside of the reach of the ritual circle. He was too big and faster than seemed possible.
I was so fucking far out of my league, but my mother was right, I didn’t have to kill him. As long as he didn’t have a mortal servant in the tween, his power would be limited. If we could drive him back through the gate, he would be trapped there.
And, long shot, if he opened a gate on his own, it would consume a lot of energy. He wouldn’t be anywhere near this powerful. It was why dems had mortal servants for such tasks.
And Silaran was fresh out of slaves courtesy of moi… and everyone else.
The problem was, I had no idea how to push him back into the portal.
My mother hacked at Silaran in a rage, and she drew on her own demonic powers in the process. She looked less human than I’d ever seen, and it seemed she’d grown several feet taller. Flames wrapped around her like a billowing gown, and black coals burned her eyes. Silaran warded off her blows, though he was still more than a match for her. She kept him busy, however, and I knew that could give me the opening I needed.
I dug my feet into the ground and pushed off, running toward the massive, homicidal asshole. I raised my blade overhead, and hacked at his legs as hard as I could. If I could get him off-balance, we could just push him through the gate before he recovered. But my blows, deadly as they would be against a mortal, didn’t faze him. He shook his leg and kicked me away like I was an annoying puppy. I skidded across the ground, stone scraping my flesh. I stumbled back to my feet, dizzy and blinking my eyes to clear my vision.
Obviously, that didn’t work.
New plan.
I looked around, searching for anything that could help and… that’s when I saw it. A massive stone stalactite hung over Silaran’s head.
I gave my mother a look and gestured upward. She diverted her attention long enough to see what I was thinking and gave me an almost imperceptible nod.
She kept hacking away at Silaran, meeting his strikes and delivering several of her own, keeping him occupied. I could see her tiredness though. Or sensed it. Something. I knew I only had moments before he broke past her defenses. For just a moment, I had the thought that he might kill her. I’d dreamed of killing her many times myself. Fantasized about it in the darkest of night. But after today, I wasn’t sure how I felt anymore. She’d never been a mother to me, but suddenly I was certain that if I lost her, I’d be crushed.
I couldn’t let her die.
I dropped my sword and called for the wolf. It leapt forward without hesitation, my muscles bulging and growing, fur sprouting all over my body. My jaw unlocked and extended as massive fangs grew. My jet-black fur blended with the shadows, making me all but invisible as I raced to the side of the cavern.
Then I dug my claws into stone and climbed.
I channeled hellfire into my claws, melting stone and carving handholds as I moved. I clamored up the wall as fast as I could. I watched my mother—Goddess of Hell—and Silaran—a demon powerful enough to challenge Lucifer—wage a battle that shook the ground and threatened to bring down the entire cavern.
I reached the upper curve of the cave’s ceiling, and I glanced over my shoulder. The stalactite hung there, an innocuous hunk of rock that I’d soon use to bring about death. Thirty feet separated me from the hunk of stone. I coiled my legs, taking a deep breath, and then leaped with all my might. I flew through the air, body stretched, claws flexed and ready to catch hold of the cave formation. My nails scratched and scraped the surface while I fought to find purchase, scrabbling for a way to not land on Silaran’s head. That was not part of the plan.
I kept sliding, falling, racing toward the end, and one claw finally found a hold. Leaving me dangling by one arm from the stalactite’s tip. With a silent growl, I reached up with my other hand and sank the hellfire heated nails into the rock. I repeated the motion, hand over hand, climbing the cave’s growth. I didn’t stop until I reached the ceiling, the very center of the stalactite’s formation.
I pulled my hand back and then thrust my claw into the stone as hard as I could. I heard cracks and groans that had nothing to do with breaking rock, and pushed past that pain. Instead, I reached into Hell, I called on every flickering flame of hellfire I could find, and channeled it into the stone. It pulsed red, the rock heating and slowly melting. The stalactite shifted and started to pull away from the cavern’s ceiling. I pumped more and more heat until the liquid hot rock poured down on the battling couple below.
I’d done what I could and as the stalactite lost its hold on the rock above, I leaped away. I slammed into the far wall and scraped the uneven surface with my claws as I fell.
Silaran looked up, demonic eyes widening, but it was too late. His distraction let my mother lock his trident with her blade, keeping him from raising it to defend himself. The molten stone rained down on the demon from above, and the massive spear of ageless stone slammed down into him. It drove straight through his chest, slamming him down and pinning him to the ground.
The rest of the stalactite melted away almost instantly, unable to withstand the unholy heat emanating from Silaran’s body. It didn’t kill him, but it threw him off balance long enough for my mother to rush forward. She slammed her shoulder into him, driving him back.
I caught one last look at her, one last glance at my mother in the final moment. There was something in her eyes that I couldn’t comprehend. Something almost like… regret.
Then they tumbled into the portal together. Silaran roared and clawed at the ground, trying to cling to the mortal dimension, but my mother pushed back, driving him into the depths of Hell and the portal snapped shut behind them.
I ran as fast as I could, ignoring my injuries, and my fur melted away as my human form returned fully. I snatched my sword and slashed it across the runes of the ritual circle, melting them away with hellfire. The runes turned dark and the energy faded from the circle. That magic from the portal rumbled through the cavern, dissipating, and the ground shook for a few moments before stopping all together. The molten rock around me slowly cooled and I…
I dropped to my knees. Breathless. My body was covered in burns from heat so intense that even my demonic blood hadn’t been able to withstand it. I was bleeding from multiple wounds. Half of my hair had been burned off. My clothes were in tattered ruins—pixie power failed me. And a foot of my blade had melted away, leaving it as ruined as its twin.
I tossed the sword aside and laid my hands on the scorched ground. It took me a half-dozen breaths before I was ready to rise, but I finally pushed to m
y feet. I stared at the ruined circle, where my mother had disappeared moments ago.
I couldn’t be sure that I’d see her again. What was happening in Hell right now? Was Silaran… Normally, that would be just fine. We’d never had a relationship. But now… the thought that she might be gone forever filled me with regret. Not for losing what we had. We hadn’t had anything worth holding on to. No, this was regret for what could have been.
The thought that maybe, just maybe, we were forging some kind of connection. A connection that could have led to something like a normal mother-daughter relationship. It was something I wanted more than I’d ever admit. The thought that we might have gotten so close, then lost it, hurt me more than the idea of losing the woman herself.
A knot formed in my throat and I swallowed it down, ignoring the pain of mourning. I wouldn’t mourn. I’d hope. I’d hope that she was still alive down there and maybe the next time I saw her, I wouldn’t be filled with anger and hate.
I glanced around the open space once more, at the blood and gore, the remnants of those dead humans, and what used to be that ritual circle. This place, the entire place, was coming down.
I slowly turned, crossing the cavern back to where I’d left Sam and Jezze. I moved slower than I’d liked and hurt more than a little, but I still walked without a limp. Only dickholes limped. They both lay on the ground, exhausted but alive. Their skin was pale from the strain of fighting off the phantoms, but they were both in better shape than me.
I looked at Jezze and she lifted her arm long enough to give me a thumbs up and then let it flop down to the cavern floor. And that gave me permission to go to Sam.
To Sam who slowly rose to his feet, a forced smile on his lips. What remained of his shirt was tattered and covered in blood and he pulled it off and tossed it aside. I didn’t give him a chance to deny me. I walked until our chests collided, until our fronts were pressed together, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that I’d been fighting pure evil moments ago, I wouldn’t have sensed the change in him—not immediately. But it was there. There in the feel of his skin and the way my body reacted to the changes in his. I traced his bare back, noting the differences, and my breath caught in my throat.
I didn’t say anything to him, just pulled away and forced him to turn, to give me his back.
His back once etched in black was now covered in light gray wings.
Nearly white.
I forced him to turn once more, to face me, and I grabbed his cheeks. I stared into those eyes, those eyes that’d once burned red and now shone a faint, but pure blue.
Not a gel, but not a fallen. My half-fallen mate.
25
Sam, Jezze, and I emerged from the mine, exhausted but alive. Papa Al and the rest of the pack followed, all in their human forms. We headed back the way we’d come, stopping by the sleeping humans Jezze had bespelled.
“We’ll take care of these,” Papa Al gestured at the humans and then waved at the pack. They moved forward and lifted the sleeping men and women, carrying them off. One less worry. They’d be safe with my dad and the pack. Especially since there was no one left to drug them. They’d be delivered to human authorities and taken somewhere they could rest and recover.
When we reached the car, a figure stood there, waiting for us. The sun peeked over the horizon, the first rays of morning light bathing the figure in a gold glow. In the light, he looked like a marble statue, crowned in gold. After the chaos, blood, darkness, and horror I’d seen this night, this was a vision of pure beauty and perfection. It was like emerging from a nightmare to realize it was all a bad dream.
I wasn’t a sentimental bitch. It wasn’t my nature. But emerging from the mine, from being coated in evil to find that radiant figure standing there, I felt a tightness in my chest.
And maybe a tear in my eye. Maybe.
I was gonna be fucking pissed if it was another demon I had to kill after I got all mushy and shit. So help them, if that wasn’t a healthy tweener, one of my dads, or anyone who didn’t need killing, I was gonna kill them.
Thankfully, when we got closer, I saw a familiar face. It was Gabriel, the angel who’d given Sam his holy mission. The sword he’d carried the first time I saw him was now sheathed across his back.
“Samkiel.” Gabriel gave him a nod. I noticed a distinct lack of a line in the sand. Maybe he didn’t think we were a threat anymore. Or… he thought we were too tired to pose a real threat at all.
“Gabriel.” Sam stood there stoically, waiting for the other gel to speak.
“You’ve done a great service.” Gabriel clasped his hands at his waist, studying Sam. “You did well. On High is quite pleased.”
Really? On High was quite pleased? I’d show them quite-fucking-pleased. Stingy assholes with their praise. We kicked evil’s ass back to Hell. Literally!
Sam touched a hand over his eyes for a moment and then looked at his old friend. “That means?”
Gabriel gave him a cryptic smile. “It doesn’t mean you will be welcomed home. Not yet, at least. If ever. But you acted selflessly, and you did so without any promise of reward. You cleansed many souls and saved many lives, for no other reason because you knew it was the right thing to do.”
I looked at Sam, wondering what was in my own heart. I certainly hadn’t nearly gotten my ass killed because it was “the right thing to do.” I’d busted out my swords because someone had been fucking with my town, and my family, and I’d be damned if I was going to let them. I’d been out for blood, vengeance. But I could tell by the look in Sam’s eye that he had been after something different. He hadn’t been there to kick ass and take names. He’d been there to protect people.
Sam had been there to protect me.
“On High believes you are taking the steps toward an uncorrupted heart. Continue on this path, and perhaps one day it will lead you back home.”
Sam watched his friend while I focused on my mate, on his eyes that now shone clear blue.
Gabriel turned and walked east, toward the rising sun. The light enveloped him, bathing him in its golden radiance. The light grew brighter and brighter until it consumed him. Between one step and the next, he was gone, leaving behind nothing but the dawn of a new day.
I took Sam’s hand, giving it a small squeeze, and his eyes met mine. It looked like I was getting my old Sam back. And while that brought a shit-ton of complications, it was something I was eternally grateful for.
But On High better not be expecting a thank you note or some shit.
None of us spoke after we climbed into my car, our energy depleted and all around gone. We’d saved Orlando. We were covered in dirt. We were like real live super heroes.
What did we do?
We went to Momma R’s. There would be no parade or monuments. There would, however, be a chemical explosion of the magical kind out at that mine.
For now, I walked slowly—warriors still weren’t gonna limp—up the stairs and went in to check on Bry. His fever was gone and the demonic brand on his arm no longer stained his skin. With the warlock’s dark magic banished, his influence was no longer able to harm my child. I wouldn’t have to worry about Silaran or his servant opening up any more dark portals beside my baby’s crib.
I picked him up and held him close, breathing in his clean scent. He squirmed and whimpered, but I couldn’t let him go. Not yet. Instead, I sat and held him in my lap, looking into his eyes and seeing the bright-eyed little boy I’d come to love.
“Is my little man feeling better?” I stroked his hair, fingers sliding through the silky strands, and kissed his forehead. He looked up at me, eyes shining brightly. “Are you?”
He reached up and grabbed my finger, squeezing it, and I gave him a smile. He made a happy sound, a giggle and gurgle that babies made when on the verge of talking. “You’re gonna be a real blabber mouth any day now, aren’t you?”
I nodded, my lips forming a goofy grin, and he nod
ded in return. I knew he recognized a lot of words now. He looked when I called his name and waved when someone said “hi” or “bye.” He just had to make up his mind about what he was gonna say first.
Momma R stepped into the room, smiling at us. Then her smile turned into a frown. “Caith, you’re getting blood and brimstone all over his onesie.”
I picked him up and put him back in his crib, staring at the swath of red and black. “Well, shit.”
I reached over the railing and tried to brush off some of the bigger hunks of ash. Bry looked right at me and said… “Shit!”
I stopped. “Did you just…”
He grinned and looked at Momma R. He raised his hands over his head. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“Well,” Momma R drawled, “he’s definitely your son.”
I was never gonna hear the end of this. But instead of apologizing for being myself—and corrupting my son—I gave Bry a grin and ruffled his hair, adding to the grime on him.
“Wait until we tell Papa Leth your first word,” I cooed. “Just wait.”
Momma R sighed and came into the room, taking over Bry’s cleanup with a quick spell. I’d miss that magic when I took Bry home. I’d have to go back to showers, baths, and just hosing him down when it got too stinky.
I’d at least put in a temperature control on the spigot outside. It wasn’t like I got him with freezing water.
Momma R nudged me downstairs, fussing at me so she could clean my wounds. My werewolf blood would have me shiny soon enough, but cleaning the dirt out of the wounds would help the process along. She dabbed the wounds with mystical antiseptic, making sure there was no trace of demonic ichor or other nastiness that might bring about a supernatural infection. She also handed over a bottle of ointment to use for the next few days, to make sure everything healed up the way it was supposed to.