Furious Fire: Grimm's Circle, Book 8

by Shiloh Walker

  Her skin crawled at the thought of that many demons released in such a confined area.

  The devastation they could do was unimaginable.

  At least they’d managed to clear this area—

  Her skin prickled.

  “No. No, we didn’t, now did we?” she murmured, drawing a blade from the sheath running down her thigh.

  A savage smile curled her lips as she circled around the castle, casting her gaze around as she sought the source of them.

  But just as quick as the need for violence spread its wings inside her, it went cold and she started to run.

  The girl.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mississippi 1862

  Becky no longer hoped she’d see Thom before it was too late.

  She’d wanted, so long, to explain. To tell him she was sorry. She’d waited. She’d written.

  But he never came. Perhaps he’d received one of her letters and decided he couldn’t stand the sight of her. She could understand that. She could barely stand the sight of herself. Anymore, the only person who was easy to face was her father and even he looked at her with sadness in his face.

  As the child inside her grew, she realized she was running out of time.

  And choices.

  The memory of that night was nothing but a blur and it no longer mattered. As her father placed her hand in Sawyer’s, she dismally accepted that little mattered. Except for the child growing inside. She’d care for the child. It was hard, though, to even care for the man before her, smiling down at her.

  Once she’d called him a friend. Even the morning she’d woken with him, a part of her had still cared, but as the days turned to weeks, then months, and she realized her mistake had such grievous consequences, her heart slowly turned to ashes.

  How could she have done such a thing?

  She’d waited for Thom, each day rising in hopes that there would be a letter, or perhaps that he’d even returned.

  Sawyer had never been but a friend.

  Now Thom was lost to her.

  “If you continue to look as though you’ll weep, you’ll hurt my feelings, Rebecca,” Sawyer said, dipping his head to murmur in her ear as they turned to face the minister.

  She tried to smile. She failed. A harsh, shaky gasp escaped her.

  “Becky, enough.” This time, it was a low, ugly mutter, so low only she heard it, but the warning was unmistakable. “He’s not coming back and even if by some miracle he could, that’s my baby. You’re mine now.”

  No. She didn’t look at him, even as the thought went through her mind. She’d never be his…

  The door crashed open behind them.

  Voices rose in confusion and she glanced over her shoulder, only because of the noise that continued to grow.

  But then, as she saw who stood there, the flowers she held fell from numb hands.

  “Tommy…”

  A growl from the man next to her, a sound that barely sounded human, but she didn’t care.

  Tommy—

  For one sweet, blissful moment, she forgot. Everything. All that mattered was that he was there and she started toward him.

  A brutal hand closed around her arm and jerked her back.

  “Get away from her, Sawyer.” Thom’s voice was hard, flat. He didn’t even look at her and she saw with stunned confusion that he held one of his prized Colt pistols in his hand. His nostrils flared and then, his eyes narrowed, as though he’d caught the stink of something foul.

  He looked disgusted.

  I’m so sorry. “Tommy, please…” Unwittingly, she rested a hand on the swell of her belly and then, she froze as his gaze tracked her movement.

  “Thom.” Sawyer’s voice was low and menacing, filled with a hatred unlike anything she’d ever heard. “What a surprise to see you here.”

  “Get away from her.” Thom leveled his firearm at Sawyer, his gaze pure steel.

  Her heart hammered as two others appeared in the doorway behind him. A man, tall—old…no. Not old. The wealth of white hair misled the eye at first. The boy with him… But then the other person shifted her stance and Becky realized it was a woman, dressed in trousers.

  That woman laid a hand on Thom’s shoulder. Everything in Becky screamed at the sight of her laying a hand on Thom.

  Hypocrite, an ugly voice inside her whispered.

  The woman spoke in a voice too low for Becky to follow. She jolted as Sawyer laughed, the sound low and ugly.

  All around them, people stared and it was as though they were as uneasy as she, slowly backing away, until their backs were against the wall. Becky just wanted to run to Thom, but the grip Sawyer had on her arm wouldn’t let her.

  He laughed, eyeing Thom with malevolence. “Let them handle it. You’re just a whelp who’ll get in the way and get yourself killed. Again.”

  At that, the fear Becky felt swelled almost out of control.

  “What…” she whispered, her heart starting to race.

  The man with that long white hair caught Thom’s shoulder while the woman spoke. “Easy, lad. There’s too much coming at you. You need to go outside.”

  “No.” He took one long stride toward them.

  Almost mesmerized by the look on Thom’s face, by the very sight of him after so long, Sawyer’s voice startled her.

  “And what do you think you’ll do with that useless toy now?

  Both Thom and Becky looked down at the same time. Becky, dazed, found herself staring at the mangled weapon Thom held. It looked…the Colt looked like some giant had taken it and crumpled it. But how?

  “Boy, you never—”

  Stunned, she watched as he flung it down.

  Her mouth went dry. Something flickered under his skin. Her heart started to pound. Fear shimmered to life inside her, the barest hint of a flame coming to life.

  “I still got…”

  That red flickering under his skin darkened, from a blush to a burning fire, like a dragon’s flames were trying to consume him, from the inside out. And she became painfully aware of the heat that danced around the room. Sweat bloomed on her skin.

  Thom, seemingly unaware, just snarled. “I…”

  A fire raged, exploding from the very earth under them and the rest of his words were lost.

  Screams ripped the air. Next to her, Sawyer began to curse, the vitriolic curses so vile, so foul, so full of hate, the fear inside her began to pulse in time with her heart.

  And then, something shoved into her side.

  “He won’t have you.” Sawyer’s voice was an unholy scrape in her ear, something between a growl and a screech, hurting her ears and slicing her open.

  “Sawyer, I—”

  Even as she turned to look at him, to beg him to let her go, a noise rent the air.

  For one brief second, she didn’t understand.

  She didn’t understand the loud, booming noise that echoed above the screams.

  She didn’t understand the pain.

  She didn’t even understand her scream.

  Then Sawyer let her go and she stumbled, fell.

  The pain started then, and she reached for it, lifted a hand and stared at the bright smear of red across it.

  Sawyer stood there, staring at her, his face an ugly mask of hate.

  He blinked and she thought she saw something else flash in his eyes, for almost a second.

  But then it was gone. The strength drained out of her and she swayed, fell.

  She blinked, cold washing over her despite the heat that kissed her flesh. The ceiling of the church was overhead. Odd, that…

  Then Thom was there.

  “Tommy,” she whispered, reaching up. Her fingers left a bloody trail on his cheek.

  “Tommy.”

  He caught her hand. “Becky,” he whispered,
clutching her wrist. “Hang on, my darlin’ girl. Just hang on. You’ll be fine.”

  “No.” It was too hard to keep her eyes open. Closing them, she felt the air in her body escaping her and that cold crept ever closer. “I won’t.”

  “Don’t close your eyes!”

  His voice was a violent shout and she forced herself to look at him.

  His hand covered the hole in her side and he stared at her with pleading eyes. “Don’t die on me. You can’t leave me,” he begged. “You can’t.”

  “If I had a choice, I never would.” She smiled then, the pain leeching away, replaced by that bone-numbing cold. She was dying. The baby would never live through this. The baby…her heart shattered. “Forgive me, Tommy. I’m so sorry.”

  His mouth covered her, a desperate kiss.

  “Don’t die,” he whispered again. “I came back for you…you can’t leave me.”

  “It’s not up to me.” She shuddered again, her head lolling against his arm, eyes drifting around the room. A white flash seemed to race all around them. And just beyond Thom stood a black-haired boy…no. Not a boy. Becky had seen that woman before. Short-haired, lean. But not a boy.

  “You came back.” Becky turned her face into his chest. “I’m sorry you came back to this.”

  “You…” He gripped her hair, hugging her to his chest.

  He felt so warm and she wished she could stay like that. Forever. “Tell me you’ll come back to me,” he demanded. “If I can do it, so can you. Tell me you will.”

  “If it were possible, I’d come back…a thousand…times…sweetheart. Just to find…you again.” Shaking against the cold, she managed to smile as she made that impossible wish. “I love you.”

  She thought she heard him say it back—maybe even scream it. But the darkness grabbed her.

  And the cold was so complete. Not even his warmth could chase it back.

  Tommy…

  So much of it made sense now.

  That last day. That crazed look I’d glimpsed in Sawyer’s eyes too many times. I’d never really even connected that until now, either. But I’d seen that look over the span of too many lifetimes.

  Those demons out there.

  One of them had somehow taken the boy I’d known, taken over the man who’d been my friend.

  It hadn’t been Sawyer that final day. Even in those final months.

  And Tommy, the day I died, had already become…this. Whatever he was now.

  Crazy how much the hindsight a couple of lives can make things clear.

  I swiped at the tears that burned my eyes and wondered just what had done it. Had it been because he’d begged me to come back? Was it because I’d made that fatal, final wish in the moments before darkness grabbed me?

  I’d come back a thousand times…

  It hadn’t been a thousand. Five or six, at most.

  Guess I was a liar, because I was done with this. I couldn’t keep this up.

  Sighing, I rose from my position on the floor and stretched my stiff muscles. The noise outside had lessened. It was almost quiet now. Almost…

  But even if that thunderous sound of battle had still reached the air, I would have recognized that sound. Rock scraping against rock.

  Somebody was trying to get in.

  I braced myself, my UMP at the ready, my heart racing.

  Was it that time already?

  Some cynical part of me thought, I’m about to die. It must be Tuesday…If only Buffy and the Scooby gang were here, maybe they could help me figure this mess out.

  It seemed like those few moments were gone in a blur, yet lasted forever. When I felt the stir of fresh air, I took a slow, steadying breath.

  “Hmmm. Fresh meat…”

  “Shut up,” the shorter one hissed as it caught the boulder and tried to drag it back into place.

  I leveled the UMP at the one who continued to leer at me. “Market’s closed,” I said softly. “You’ll have to find your fresh meat elsewhere.”

  He just smiled and took a step toward me.

  Fire spat between us.

  “You really don’t want to do that.”

  The sound of his voice sent a ripple up my spine but I didn’t dare look from the demon to Finn.

  “Oh. A grim. How boring.” The demon just watched me as I tried to make sense of those words.

  A grim what?

  There was a smothered, strangled noise and then the stench of cooked meat filled the air.

  I didn’t have to look over to see what had happened.

  Sweat trickled down my spine.

  The demon clicked his tongue. “Hmmm. It’s the firestarter. I saw you in the tree. You should be careful doing that in here, boy. Any idea what that kind of heat will do in a room of stone? You’ll cook her through.”

  “Get back,” Finn said again.

  Instead he lunged—

  I had a split second to decide. Shoot—

  But the ricochet could hit Finn.

  No—

  I used it to swing out at his throat instead, but it didn’t even stop him and a second later, he caught the UMP, ripped it away. The gun hit the ground with a clatter and impotently, I curled my hands into fists.

  Time began to play itself out, one more time and I found myself in the thing’s embrace, if it could be called that.

  I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry.

  Just let it be the last time, I wanted to beg.

  Finn stood in front of me, pure hell etched on his face.

  “Let her go,” he snarled.

  Something sharp dragged across my belly. I already knew what it was. In resignation, I looked up. “He’s not going to, Tommy,” I said. The name escaped me without me even realizing it.

  He sucked in a harsh breath.

  Our eyes met and I could have kicked myself.

  He knew.

  Aw, fuck.

  No.

  Just…

  “Becky.”

  Tears burned in my eyes. I closed them as the knife on my belly dragged over my skin yet again.

  “Tell me, grim…do I gut the girl and make you suffer? Or will you step aside and let me go? Do that, and I’ll make it quick.”

  “Kill her and I’ll cook you alive,” he rasped. “It will be the slowest, most excruciating death you’ve ever imagined. And it will take months. Let her go…now. And you might survive long enough to escape this pit of rocks.”

  I gasped as the tip of the knife parted my skin. The demon was focused on Finn.

  I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this again—not while he watched.

  A shadow fell behind Finn. He didn’t even move and a surge of recognition slammed into me as I realized who it was.

  That woman—she’d been there.

  That final day.

  “Get him away from here,” I said, my voice low, pleading.

  “Oh, honey.”

  This can’t be happening.

  But it was. Sina edged around him, the thrum of her power enough to make his teeth ache. Finn tried to silence the roar in his head, tried calm the fire that once more surged to life inside him.

  He’d lost her before because he’d lost control.

  Not again.

  “I can’t do that,” Sina murmured. “I just can’t.”

  “Don’t interfere,” Finn bit off. He didn’t let himself look at Becky—Kalypso—he didn’t even know what to call her, what to make of her. For now, all he could do was focus on the demon behind her.

  “Let her go,” Finn said. “Do that, and I’ll make a deal with you. You can have me instead. I’ll get you away from here. I won’t fight. You might even have a chance at getting away from here.”

  “No!” Both Sina and the only woman Finn had ever loved shouted it.

 
He ignored them, focused only on the incubus. The dirty, defiling touch of his power slid through the room, wrapping around all of them. “Now that is an interesting idea, little Grimm,” the demon murmured. “But how do I know you’ll stick to the deal?”

  Finn bared his teeth. “It’s your best shot. There are two of us here now. You know what that means for you. You’ll never get out of here alive if you try to fight your way out. So you can walk out…with me. Walk and live, but only if you let her go.”

  “And when we get away from here?” The demon’s eyes glowed. “What then? I’ve seen what you can do, boy. You can turn me into a Roman candle. I don’t fancy that.”

  “I won’t,” Finn promised. “Get away from her and I’ll do whatever you want—well, within in reason. I’m not killing anybody but…”

  “So if I decide to kill you, you won’t fight me. All for her.” His voice was insidious caress.

  “No.” The voice was a low, harsh rasp.

  Finally Finn let himself look at her. He had to decide then, and he knew. Becky’s soul resided somewhere in there. He could feel it, now, even recognized her. But she wasn’t the girl he’d loved. He could have loved her. Some part of him was already reaching for her—but they were two very different people now, marked by years of loss, struggle, grief and war. And she’d seen that war. He knew it.

  “I can’t let you die again…Kalypso,” he said softly. Then he stared at the demon. “I won’t fight.”

  “Not on…” His eyes roamed over Finn. “Any level?”

  Finn didn’t let himself shudder. “No.”

  “Lovely.” The demon stroked a hand over Kalypso’s belly. “Your lucky day, mortal. An angel is a better toy any century.”

  Then, he went to shove her.

  “Son of—”

  Sina grabbed him, flung him to the ground. He surged against her, but by then it was already too late.

  My choice.

  In that first life, Sawyer—or the demon who’d stolen my friend—had stripped away my choice. I didn’t remember how. I just knew that night when I’d gone to bed with him, I hadn’t entirely been of my own mind.

  My mother, guilt, circumstances, everything else had left me feeling as though I had no other choice but to marry him.