Damnation's Door: A Cursed Book

by Amy Braun

  The blade was just beginning to fall when a blast of gold light exploded behind the Knight. I rolled in the opposite direction of the scythe, scrambling to my feet and backing up. The Knight turned around to see what had attacked it. I peered over its shoulder to see Michael standing in the middle of the battle, his broadsword drawn and his azure eyes glowing with rage.

  The second Knight darted for the archangel, swinging its scythe in a powerful arc. Michael didn’t move until the very last second, catching the curve of the scythe and sweeping the blade around. It was yanked from the Knight’s grip, leaving it defenseless. Michael then cleaved off the Knight’s head in a single stroke.

  For a second, I thought we could win.

  Then Lucifer stepped forward. I could see Carver shifting from foot to foot, as if he couldn’t decide whether to join in the fight, or run for his life. Mateo held Dro back while she screamed over and over again.

  “No!”

  Lucifer didn’t listen. He approached Michael and held out his hand. Hellfire bloomed out of it like a burning flower, funneling toward Michael. The angel spun around, the edge of his white coat twirling with him, and raised his sword.

  The blistering hot hellfire engulfed the blade, licking around the sides to try and catch Michael. But the Heavenly Host’s Commander held his own against the King of Hell, both supernaturals locked in an intense battle of defense and offence.

  I was so damn distracted, that I didn’t see the Knight move until its hand clamped around my throat.

  It picked me up like I weighed nothing, my feet dangling in the air. I kicked weakly, not even close to touching the Knight. The metal of the gauntlet was blistering the outsides of my neck, getting hotter as its grooves pinched into my skin. I couldn’t breathe, pathetically hammering my hatchet down on the Knight’s wrist. My silver blade pinged harmlessly off the tough metal armor. I was a mouse trying to bite into a metal cat.

  The Knight squeezed my throat again, forcing my bones to grind together. Everything I saw was blurry and dark at the edges. I barely made out the scythe as it was pulled back, ready to sever me at the waist–

  Another blast of white light burst through the haze, this time striking against the Knight’s back. It didn’t make a sound, but it stiffened and dropped me. I landed in a heap, gagging and coughing. Every time I swallowed, the burns on my outer throat throbbed. I was pushing myself up when hands found my arms and lifted me. I snarled and jerked free, ready to fight again.

  Dro held her hands up, watching me like she would watch an aggravated cobra. I lowered my hands, and the battle turned into white noise.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” Dro cried over the commotion. “How did you find me? I was blocking Max.”

  I narrowed my eyes, glad that Max was too far away to hear his girlfriend. “Does it matter? I

  found you, and now you can come back.”

  “No,” Dro said.

  I absorbed what she said, and blinked when I couldn’t believe it. “What the hell do you mean, ‘no’?”

  Dro’s eyes were sad. “I can’t go back with you, Con. It’s too dangerous.” She started shaking her head. “You should have listened to me.”

  My anger rose, but I pushed it down. Dro wasn’t the person I needed to take my frustrations out on. I took a slow, careful step toward her. She tensed, but didn’t move back.

  “Whatever you’re planning, tell me, and I’ll help you.”

  My sister shook her head. “I don’t need help.”

  Some of the anger slipped through the cracks. “You were standing next to Lucifer, burning down a church. Tell me what’s right in that picture.”

  Dro’s cheeks took on an embarrassed, annoyed flush. “It isn’t what you think.”

  “Then just tell me what it is.” My voice was beginning to rise. A battle was not where I wanted to have a fight with my sister. Especially since I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw that Michael’s defense had just broken. His sword could no longer hold back Lucifer’s fire.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Dro said, trying to reign in her own boiling temper.

  “Like fuck I wouldn’t,” I snapped. “How can you say that to me?!”

  “Because you’re human!” she exploded. Her eyes burned like the flame from a welder’s torch. “You have no idea what it’s like to hold all these powers and thoughts inside of you, always being afraid you’ll hurt someone you love, and losing control when you were so sure you had it! I had to let it out, Constance! It was tearing me apart not to! Lucifer was the only one who could show me control!”

  She took a moment to breathe. I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t speak.

  “I told Lucifer to look for you. I asked him to give you a deal that would keep you and the others alive. You should have taken it. You still can. You can’t trust me, so you need to let me go.”

  It was my sister’s voice, but they were Lucifer’s words. They had to be. Dro knew she was dangerous, but she always wanted to stay with me. It was a promise we had made, that no matter what came across our path, we would overcome it together.

  But what if Lucifer didn’t tell her to say any of this? What if Dro’s finally telling me all the secrets she’s kept? What if she really has given up?

  I shoved the thought away. I refused to believe it. I couldn’t.

  “No,” I told her flatly. “I’m not going anywhere unless you’re coming too.”

  “Damn it, Constance, I’m trying to save you!” she yelled.

  “But you’re not!” I shouted back. “You’re hurting me!”

  I didn’t know the words were out of my mouth before it was too late. The stunned expression must have remained on my face, but Dro looked at me with utter despair. If this was the only way I could get Dro to listen to me, then I would do it. Even if I hated myself for it.

  “You’re hurting me,” I repeated.

  Seeing the tears form in my sister’s eyes cut me deeper than I imagined. My words had caused her pain. But I didn’t know what to do. Hurting people was the only thing I knew I would never fail at.

  I took one more step, until it felt like just the two of us. I almost forgot about the battle we were losing.

  “Andromeda, please,” I begged. “This isn’t right, and you know it. This isn’t what we promised each other.”

  Tears spilled down Dro’s cheeks, but she didn’t reach for me. She took a step back.

  “Is that what you’re banking your hope on? A promise? Like the one where you said nothing bad would ever happen because you, Dad, and Mom would protect me? Or all the times you told me we’d leave Mexico? Or when you said Isabel would never find me?”

  Her callousness numbed me for a moment, but it didn’t last. Soon the pain crept in, like an icy air that froze everything it touched. It hurt to breathe, my damaged heart cracking again. I didn’t want to think it was Dro telling me this. Not my sister, the sweet, innocent, lost girl who was afraid to be alone. Who was kind to those who didn’t deserve it. Who loved carefully, but with all her heart. The sister who never wanted me to leave. It couldn’t have been her.

  But there were no Possessors hovering over her head. No one sticking a knife in her back to make her talk. No sadistic father whispering in her ear.

  It was just us.

  “You made a million promises to me, Constance. But how many did you really think you could keep? You wanted to save me, but you can’t. I wanted you to trust me to save you, but you wouldn’t even do that. You held onto me too tight, and now you have to let me go.”

  Now the tears were building in my eyes. I felt the world crumbling around me, but my feet were glued to the ground.

  “I can’t,” I whispered shakily.

  There was no sympathy in her eyes. No regret or guilt. Not even a hint of pity.

  “You can,” Dro said. “And you will.”

  She held my eyes a moment longer, then turned on her heel and ran back for the battle. All I could do was stand there and watch a piece of my
heart, life, and soul, run away from me. I stood on the sidelines of the battle, unable to find the will to join it. I watched Dro rush to Lucifer’s side as Michael fired a blast of heavenfire at the King of Hell. She swept it aside with a stronger flash of her unique hellfire, hurling it directly into another angel and incinerating him instantly. There was no shame on her face.

  Michael backed up a step, snapping up his hands and creating a heavenfire so bright it rivaled the sun. I saw Lucifer step in front of Dro protectively, warding off the spell. Michael shouted something I couldn’t understand, though I spotted Sephiel grabbing an injured Warrick and helping him limp toward Max. The young prophet was fiddling with the movens caeli, as if he’d forgotten how to use it.

  My feet moved on their own, survival instinct kicking in over the swelling heartache. As I moved to the much smaller group, I saw Michael move his attention from Lucifer to Carver, who was trying to edge out of range.

  He wasn’t fast enough.

  Michael spun on his heel and hurled his sword at the demon slayer. The blade sank into his chest like butter, nearly cutting him in half. Carver was on his feet for one more second before he began to dissolve into black ash around the blade.

  Lucifer’s roar sounded through the night like thunder, his strength building over top of Michael’s heavenfire wall. White fire smothered the gold, pushing out like daggers that drilled into the archangel’s chest. He collapsed onto his back, writhing in pain as a dozen points of flame scorched through him.

  I ignored Sephiel’s warning, running for Michael. I reached him as he slapped his hands to his chest, using whatever magic he still had to heal himself. I grabbed his arms and was about to pull him back, when a dozen of the white flames shot toward my face. There was no way I could avoid them. I closed my eyes and turned my head away.

  Hot air blew in front of me, sweeping out to the left instead of around me. I opened my eyes, seeing the edges of white hellfire push away Lucifer’s flaming daggers. When the light and fire cleared, I saw Lucifer staring down at Dro.

  She pretended not to see him. She focused solely on me.

  “That was the last time, Constance,” Dro said. “Don’t come back.”

  I lost all of my senses again. I forgot to breathe. I forgot what I was holding. I didn’t know where I was, or why someone was grabbing onto me. I barely heard the roar of the magic cracking over my head. I stared at my sister until the golden light obscured my vision, and wished I’d seen just a trace of hope in her eyes.

  Chapter 21

  Maria wasn’t in her shop when we crashed into the middle of it. We landed in the front of the shop, all of us stumbling or landing in a heap. I managed to stay on my feet, but I felt weightless. A piece of me was missing, and I couldn’t find myself without it. I moved off to the side and looked down at the scrambling humans and the dying archangel.

  Warrick and Max were hovering behind Sephiel while the remaining two angels tried to cover the wounds on Michael’s chest. The two angels, a brunette woman and an Asian man, pressed their hands to the gory mess spilling from Michael. Whether they were applying pressure or attempting to use their non-existent healing magic, I couldn’t tell. It wasn’t going to matter soon. Michael was the only one with the power to heal himself, and he wasn’t moving.

  “Seph, what can we do?” Warrick asked.

  Sephiel tossed his head over his shoulder. “Find herbs of grace and archangel root. They should respond with his nature and progress his healing.” His face was drawn. “I do not know how much time that will buy before the blood loss completely hinders his consciousness.”

  Meaning that if Michael didn’t wake up soon, he was going to die.

  I hurried around the shop with Warrick and Max, who were working together to find the herbs and powders Sephiel had told them to find. Well, it was more like Warrick shouting that nothing was where Max said it was, and Max shouting back that he was looking as hard as he could. Their panic was keeping them from finding what they needed, and none of the angels could think clearly.

  Quickly walking to where he was lying, I shouldered in between the angels and touched Michael’s neck. His pulse was steady, which meant he was still fighting to live. I slapped him across the face.

  Michael’s angels gasped in shock, but I didn’t look at them, because he groaned. I placed his hands onto his chest. There was no glow coming from them. I glared at the archangel.

  “Seriously? This is how you want to go out, Michael? Dying on a floor in an occult shop? You seemed like you wanted to die fighting Lucifer. Guess I was wrong about how tough you were.”

  I could feel everyone’s eyes but Michael’s on me. I ignored them all. Still trapped in my grip, Michael’s hands began to glow with healing light. I watched as it illuminated the crimson stained white shirt, fresh blood making it stick to the ridges of his muscles. There was a lot of damaged flesh, but I watched intently to see that every hole was closed and all the blackened, blistered skin returned to a healing pink.

  Confident that Michael would be able to heal himself, I stepped back. The angels rushed into the place I had been to fuss over their wounded leader.

  I wondered how Michael would feel when he was back to his strength. He wasn’t the sort of person who wanted to be coddled, any more than he was the type to accept defeat. Lucifer had nearly killed him. Something told me that never would have happened a year ago when the Heaven Gate was still intact.

  I slinked back into the shadows, wanting to be alone. I could feel Warrick watching me, but I was moving too quickly for him to follow. I walked through the curtain into the back room, closed the door and locked it behind me. If he didn’t get the message before, he would damn sure get it now.

  I pressed my back to the door and let my weary body slide down it. I was bruised, sore, exhausted, and heartbroken. It didn’t really feel like I was falling on my own. It felt more like someone was pushing me down, dumping weight after weight onto my shoulders until I was trapped under a pile of depression.

  Getting my heart broken wasn’t new. Feeling overburdened was a daily routine. Hopelessness was as common as despair.

  Yet all these familiar emotions were different now. They weren’t dull throbs that ached my heart. They were knives that stabbed into my chest whenever I breathed. They were maggots burrowing into my soul to devour me. They were a current that forced me out to sea, shoved me back to shore, then dragged me out again.

  Lucifer told me I had lost Dro. I never bought it because I was certain he was just trying to goad me, provoke me into doing something stupid. I was so used to the idea of Lucifer lying to me that I never imagined his telling the truth would hurt me more.

  But he wasn’t trying to hurt me. Not really. He was warning me, because he knew I wouldn’t listen. He knew I would find Dro, and she would hurt me worse than he ever could.

  I will destroy you, he’d once promised. Was this what he meant? Had he seen how far apart Dro and I would become? Had he planned this from the beginning, knowing she’d eventually break and go to him, leaving me to suffer in her absence?

  Did it matter? After everything Dro had told me, how much she’d been holding back, the distress it was causing her, should I have been surprised that she couldn’t hang on anymore?

  Yes. I still couldn’t process it. Dro wasn’t responsible for me. I was the older sister. It was my job to keep us both safe.

  But I never did. No matter how dangerous she was, I made it worse every single time. I took the easy route because it was disguised as the tough one. I went to criminals because I wanted human monsters to protect us from demonic ones. I ran when I should have gone straight to demonologists for the answers. I never let Dro get the release she desperately needed, because I refused to believe things were as bad as she claimed. I was so damn certain I could save her from the world. I never imagined I should have been saving her from herself, let alone allow her to save me.

  Dro ran from me once. When I found her again, I never asked how it felt f
or her to be unrestricted by me. Had she felt freer? Had she been happy, if a little guilty? Did she care that I was being selfish in bringing her back to me?

  I used to think I knew my little sister like I knew the back of my hand. I began to realize that I never really knew her at all. Pretending to make her human wouldn’t change what she was. She had free will, but I had made all the choices for us. She had never been able to make ones that mattered, and I had freaked out whenever she tried. One way or another, I had driven her to Lucifer.

  One way or another, I had lost her.

  Maybe this was the way it was supposed to be. She had been smiling when she was with Lucifer. He hadn’t been hurting her. I would have seen it in her eyes if he were. I still had a chance to run. Michael and his angels wouldn’t go, but I could take Warrick and Max and Sephiel with me. We could find a piece of isolation and watch the world fall apart from a distance. A front row seat to the end of the world with my friends didn’t seem so bad.