by RS Black
Deep enough that not even I had suspected that Keltse or Cash were their moles. That Adam’s camp had been overrun by Triad lackeys, or that these two Neph had been instrumental in thwarting our attempts to bring them down every step of the way.
With Grace’s help, Pandora had learned the truth.
And had kept the secret from everyone but me. Only my fractured mind had saved me from the Triad actually realizing the truth.
At some point they must have believed it to be a possibility that eventually Pandora would discover the moles amongst us, but Pandora had played her role brilliantly. Never letting her cards show, never allowing anyone to know the depths of her maneuverings. Her willingness to allow those she loved to believe in her evil. Believe that she’d truly turned humbled me.
I was strong. My body and my mind were my own once more. Growling, I snarled at Keltse.
“You bitch. You thought you’d win. Turn on your own kind. Your own people. For what?”
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. My demon attack had crippled her already weakened state even further.
Keltse had had to work around the clock to weaken me as she had and, in doing so, had made herself vulnerable to damage.
I shoved my fist through her chest and she screamed, the sound unholy and skin-crawling.
“Pandora needs me,” I whispered into Sloth’s ear, “and no one will get in my way again.”
Then I nicked her soul with my claw and snatched Sloth out from within her, devouring his darkness and making it my own. Wracked with pain, I doubled over, grunting and heaving as Sloth fought to free himself of me. But my teacher had taught me well. She’d shown me how to relax through the process. How to not fight against the pain, but to accept it as my own.
Eventually the agony flowed away, and though I was covered in a sheen of sweat and shaking like a newborn colt, I was strong. Possessed by the Seven, I smiled as I ripped her head from her shoulders and tossed it away. And when I withdrew my hand from her chest, I carried her heart with me, feasting on it as Gluttony sang inside me.
Face and neck bloody, I tossed the broken thing away and stood.
I’m coming, Pandora.
Chapter 23
Asher
We were ready.
Berserkers.
Nephilim.
And zombies.
The Queen stood like a pillar on the top of a grassy knoll, her blood-red dress undulating behind her like a flag in the stiff breeze.
Dean had given us the final coordinates. He wasn’t here yet, but I wasn’t surprised. He came with Pandora’s army.
Vyxen and I lay in ambush behind a thick field of grass, giving us a view of the valley while still keeping us somewhat hidden.
I gripped the hilt of my sword, staring at the dips and peaks of a seemingly endless field of dying wheat.
Somehow I’d always figured the final battle would happen in the valley of Megiddo, but we stood somewhere in the Ozark plains, a dilapidated red-painted wooden barn our only backdrop.
Vyxen shook her head. She’d dressed in green leather from head to toe tonight. “I don’t like this. We’re too damned exposed out here.”
Her green eyes were wide in her pixie face as she nibbled on the corner of her thumbnail. Grabbing her hand, I gently moved it away.
She shuddered.
“Relax,” I told her, giving her a stern look.
Blowing out a heavy breath, she said, “We’re not enough. Even if Pandora doesn’t bring another soul with her, this isn’t enough.”
Bubba and what few Nephilim we could manage to take away from the carnival stood half a mile behind us. We’d had to leave five of them behind to guard Luc’s still-comatose body. Pandora’s family wasn’t large, but Adam had managed to send a small contingency to us—one Pride demon, two Wrath (always good in a battle) and the rest of them Lust. But his two berserker sons had come and when in a rage they could match the ability of five Wrath demons each.
We had maybe forty, forty-two Nephilim and berserkers combined. The Zombie Queen had her sixty-five to add to the mix. To call what we had here an army was a major overstatement.
This was a doomed cause. We all knew it. Coming here was just a show, a stand, to let the Triad know that even though they’d won, there were those of us left willing to die for what we believed in.
“That was never in question, Vyxen.” I pressed my lips together. “But we don’t waver from the plan. I go for Pandora, you go for the doctor. Let the rest of them take care of everything else.”
Tapping a claw on her bicep she nodded slowly.
Just then there was a shout, then the clang of metal. Roars of shifters erupted all around.
The zombies, who’d lain down in the thick wheat fields, jumped to their feet, biting and punching their way through half-turned shifter soldiers who sprayed them with bullets.
“Where is she?” I growled as anticipation burned like acid through my veins.
All around, I could see the glow of eyes from Nephilim calling out their demons. The thick stench of blood permeated the breeze. But I couldn’t see her. I saw Bubba hammer fisting a wolf’s head, knocking it senseless to the ground and then shoving his fist through its chest to rip out its heart, then tossing it to the ground and repeating the process all over again.
Zombies were being dragged down, some of them ripped apart by the wicked teeth of panthers and bears.
The Queen herself fought, moving between dead bodies and resurrecting them with a touch, turning fallen shifters into her own slaves and ordering them to kill what’d once been their brothers.
My resolution not to engage anyone else almost failed me when I saw Bubba drop to one knee. But then he kicked his leg out, knocking down the shifter before it had a chance to rip through his throat.
“There!” Vyxen yanked on my sleeve. “There’s Pandora.”
I turned, frantically searching her out. Spying her immediately. She was dressed in a gown of glowing crimson that danced along her body like charmed flames. Her eyes were a deep and brilliant black.
All around there was fighting and chaos, but nothing seemed to touch her. Dean walked slowly behind her. There were no more smiles on his face. Beside him stood another woman I’d never seen before.
Her hair was also made of flame. She wore chain mail, and unlike Dean she looked smug. She held a blade at Pandora’s spine.
A shifter rushed Vyxen just as I made a move to intercept Pandora.
I swung my blade into its side. The spotted leopard screamed, even as it continued to snap its jaws at Vyxen, who was now on the ground with it on top of her. She held on to his jaw with bloody hands and yelled at me, “Go. Get her. Hurry, before she opens the Gates.”
Retrieving my sword, I jutted out my jaw. “The doctor.”
“I’ll find him,” she grunted and then, with a mighty heave, broke the leopard’s jaw.
Nodding, I ran for Pandora, who was at least a quarter of a mile up the hill from me.
I was supposed to kill her.
Vyxen was going to find the doctor’s necklace, snatch it away and order her to stop, and then I was going to thrust my blade through her heart and stop this madness.
But Vyxen wasn’t with me and shifters were hurling themselves at me. Bullets peppered my chest and back, making me writhe and hiss in agony.
The sky suddenly lit with a yellowish-green glow as Pandora stood in the center of the hill, and the world trembled, knocking me to my knees and everyone else around me as well.
In the confusion a claw ripped into my shoulder.
I couldn’t see Vyxen. I couldn’t see the doctor. I was surrounded by shifters. Calling the shadows to me, I encased myself in darkness and ordered my Gray Man to life.
He fought beside me. Back to back we moved as one, slowly but surely carving out a path in Pandora’s direction. But like lobbing off a hydra’s head, no sooner did we take one down than two more shifters took its place.
A powerful blast rocked
me again, picking us all up off our feet and tossing us like discarded rags. I was soaked in my blood and the blood of others. My chest heaved for oxygen, my vision blurred, I could feel the countless bites and tears on me.
Bodies were strewn all around me, hacked and savaged, some of them half dead, others alive and dazed like myself.
My heart plummeted to see sightless eyes staring up into the heavens, faces of Nephilim I barely knew, but had seen in passing here and there.
I could hear the roar of the berserkers behind me.
But I was hypnotized by the sight before me.
Pandora stood with her feet braced apart and her hands wide, light pulsing in thick beams from her palms as an image wavered before her.
Steel and wrought iron bars soared like monoliths into the sky. Behind them glowed a deep, burnished red and orange as Hell’s flames licked violently out of the earth.
The moans and cries of the dead echoed hauntingly around us.
And then I spotted Vyxen.
She was a fury of rage, ripping and slashing at anything in her way. She headed not for the doctor, who I still couldn’t find, but for Pandora, and there was murderous intent in her eyes.
Dean had transformed too. He was now nothing but bone and I knew that if Pandora flung open the Gates he would destroy her first.
Realizing I must not have been dead after all, a shifter barreled into my midsection, knocking the air from my lungs.
There was no time left.
Panicked and desperate, I shot to my feet, my muscles flooded with a violent jolt of adrenaline. I was blinded by my desire to reach Pandora first. I killed anything that came at me. I didn’t even take the time to wait and see if it were friend or foe.
I’d sworn an oath to always protect her.
She was lost to me.
But I couldn’t let her go.
Greed screamed inside me, urging me to fight harder, move faster.
I was a frenzied blur.
I was so close. So damned close when I heard a roar that made ice skate down my spine and for a brief moment it was like time was suspended.
Dean was leaning over Pandora, whispering into her ear. Vyxen was within a finger’s length of her; she held a long-handled knife in her fist.
I could only scream, “No,” as it arched downward, aiming directly for Pandora’s heart, when the woman with hair of flame twirled around, her sword slicing evenly through Vyxen’s middle.
For a second I thought nothing had happened. I was still running, still in shock. And then Vyxen fell, her top half and her bottom half dropping in opposite directions.
Dead.
In the chaos I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I didn’t even know how to feel, other than stunned. It was simply something that’d happened. Quick. And now over.
If I survived this I’d mourn, but for now, I was the only one left who stood a chance of stopping Pandora.
Pandora turned toward me and whispered something that even over the din I could make out. Not because I heard it, but because I felt it.
Two words.
I’m sorry.
Then Bubba was in front of me, materialized from thin air, and it took my sluggish brain a minute to realize what he’d done.
My left leg had been severed at the kneecap. Cut cleanly through. I screamed as my blood soaked the ground beneath me. Reaching out desperately for Pandora.
I couldn’t understand why Bubba had turned on us.
I wasn’t going to hurt her. I could never have hurt her.
Not my little demon.
I gasped as a shifter pounced on my chest, its fangs sinking into my throat. I was going to die. I’d lost my sword when I’d lost my leg. It’d clattered uselessly to the ground, my numb fingers unable to grip any longer.
Then Bubba was tossing the shifter off me. And I thought he meant to end me, but he stood beside me and fought like the demon he was to keep me from being attacked any longer.
I was less than a tenth of a mile from her. I could have crawled on my hands and knees to get there, but I was weakened from the loss of so much blood. I needed to close my eyes, just for a second. The world was becoming so cold.
I’d been betrayed by Bubba. Vyxen had been killed.
Pandora had looked at me, not the Scarlet Woman, but my woman. There’d been agony and passion in her gaze and my heart had bled to see it.
But that wasn’t the biggest surprise of the night.
Luc stood in front of the Gates. His eyes glowed, not lavender, but twilight, like Pandora’s now did. In his hand was the lifeless head of the doctor and in his fist, Pandora’s mark.
And then in a blink, all the shifters dropped to the ground. Not dead. But asleep.
The magic had been that of a powerful Sloth demon, and it hadn’t been Pandora who’d done it.
Luc’s eyes now glowed amber.
Chapter 24
The Scarlet Woman
Everyone knew the end of the world would come at my hands. It’d been foretold hundreds of years ago. I was the beautiful woman, dressed in red, dripping in jewels. Nations worshipped me, and when I died, they would mourn me.
For millennia a war had been waged. Good versus evil. Heaven versus Hell. Angels and demons. All of it leading to this.
To me.
The Scarlet Woman could have been anyone. It wasn’t who I was really, but rather, what I am.
Sin.
I am that which mortals crave.
A weakness.
A disease.
An infection of the soul.
Give into me and my hunger was bottomless. There was never enough, because I was never satisfied. I existed for one purpose: to bring about the end of days.
This body I possessed had been knit together with hundreds of souls, power drained, and power earned. Only a vessel like this could contain me. The moment Pandora absorbed the last keeper, I was birthed. I was not a child. I had always been, since time immemorial. Waiting. Expecting. Patient. Knowing my time would someday come. I was a thought, an idea made flesh. I was the Scarlet Woman and Wrath beckoned his daughter home.
The Gates wavered in front of me. All around there was fighting and death. I reveled in the screams and the smell of blood.
The eyes of the Triad gazed upon me, awaiting my command to throw open the Gates.
A small, insignificant man in a white lab coat stood within the protective confines of Death’s shadow and pushed his glasses up his nose. His manner was nervous. He reminded me of a sycophantic rodent.
I cocked my head.
“How is it possible that you’ve freed me?” I asked him.
But it was Death who answered.
Yes, I knew him.
I’d known Death since the dawn of man. And beside Death stood War. She gazed upon me proudly. I smiled in return.
“He is no concern of yours, Sin,” Death snapped.
I smiled. “Try not to sound so grumpy, Death.”
“You make me grumpy,” he snarled.
I didn’t used to. Once, he’d loved me.
Man’s hubris had made my existence a necessity. I knew at the moment of my birth who I was and who I’d be. I’d never been flesh, always simply spirit, waiting for the day I could truly be reborn. But I was never alone.
Death, and the rest of the Horsemen, they always were my friends. But unlike the others, Dean always thought he could save me. I framed his face with a hand that was not truly my own. The moment I threw open the Gates I too would perish, my only reason for being was to release my creators.
Dean trembled beneath my touch. I sensed the impatience of the High-Caste Demon Lords.
Wrath was a powerful-looking demon. His skin was pale, his hair blond, and he wore dark black horns on his head. His body was nude. So utterly perfect and heartbreakingly beautiful. My mouth watered to gaze upon him. Beside him stood Lust, a woman of such sheer magnificence that to gaze upon her would kill. Her skin glittered like cut diamonds. Her lips were the deep red of pomegrana
te juice, and her hair shades of glowing ebony.
Leaning over her shoulder was an equally attractive female, Envy. Her green eyes glowed like flame, her hair draped in a golden wave down to her nude ankles.
All three of them gazed upon me with desire, avarice, and madness. Wrath stepped toward the Gates, placing his hand upon them and cocking his head in expectation of his release.
There was an army behind me. The Triad awaited their masters’ release. I wet my lips. There was no fear within me.
War stepped up to my side, grabbing my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Her flaming hair sparked and snapped like a blazing ruby. She smiled. She was my friend, I suppose, if I was capable of making any. She and I wanted the same thing.
The end of the race. Of this miserable world. My father and mothers were calling out to me. The Glorious Three.
Beneath them I could see the shadowy image of the other HCD. They were grabbing for the three, trying to drag them back down. Howling and swearing that so long as they must remain, so too would my parents.
Wrath’s voice was loudest, he was commanding me home, crooking his finger and telling me what a good little daughter I was. I was prepared.
“Sin, stop this.” It was Death, whispering in my ear. He wasn’t begging, but there was an urgency in his words.
Was he so afraid to lose?
War withdrew her sword. She twirled and all I heard was the snick of her blade meeting flesh. There was a grunt and then a thud as something dropped to the ground behind me.
All I needed to do was command the Gates wide. A soul shuddered inside this body. Quivered, really.
The feeling was one of...sadness.
Hm. What an odd sentiment to have in this moment.
And yet, I suffered the strangest compulsion to turn and look over my shoulder. My gaze found a man’s. A Priest. His black wings were folded tight around him. Another beast of a man stood before him, but he did not see that man, for his eyes were locked on mine. For a second, a mere fraction of a moment, I felt that foreign soul inside me blink. Come to life, as it were.
Somehow I knew that soul had just connected with the Priest. And then the beastly Nephilim sliced a sword through the Priest’s leg, severing it at the kneecap. The avenging angel of Hell—for that is what he looked like covered in gore and blood—dropped to the ground, his brown eyes full of agony.