Edge of the Darkness (Hell on Earth Book 4)

by Brenda K. Davies

  Shax rested his hands on the earth again, and it heaved beneath his palms. The ground rolled as if a wave crested beneath it, a wave sweeping straight toward Death. Caim swung out his wing to push Fiora back as a craeton lunged at them.

  The fallen angel used his other wing to plunge the foot-long spike at the top of it through the craeton’s eye and out the back of his head. With the craeton impaled, Caim used the tip of his other wing to decapitate it.

  The wave hit Death as he was raising his hands to unleash his ability on Bale; it rolled beneath him and knocked him off his feet. His mount spun on Shax as Death pushed himself up from the snow.

  Though he’d been intent on destroying Bale, Shax was much closer, and I recognized the glint of malevolence in my fellow horseman’s eyes.

  “Shax!” I shouted, but it came out a garbled cry as blood sprayed from my lips. “Look out!”

  Death lifted his hand, and as if he were holding Shax’s throat, he clenched his fingers together. Shax’s hands flew to his neck, and he clawed at his flesh as his yellow eyes bulged.

  “No!” Corson bellowed.

  In the sky, the griffith released a high-pitched screech before diving at Raphael with its wings flattened against its back. Raphael turned in midair to unleash a ball of life into the beast. It continued to dive at him, closing the gap to almost five feet before it exploded.

  Blood and pieces of the monster rained down as Corson, Bale, and Wren carved their way through the craetons surrounding them. Lowering her shoulder, Bale shoved it into the chest of a lower-level demon and pushed it back.

  Bale, Corson, and Wren broke free of the crowd and raced toward where Shax knelt in the snow. A grayish color replaced the bright yellow of his eyes; his skin was becoming more ashen as his hands stopped clawing at his neck.

  Then his skin sagged as if he were a human who was rapidly aging from thirty to ninety. It hung off his bones as if it were about to slough off his skull completely. He remained kneeling in the snow until Death completely clamped his hand shut before throwing it open. Shax’s eyes rolled up and into his before he collapsed face-first into the snow.

  “Bale, stop!” I yelled and spat out more blood as Death turned toward her.

  Bale

  When Death lifted his hands, I realized we’d done exactly what he wanted, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t get the image of Shax from my mind as my friend shrank into something different, something nearly unrecognizable. Something that looked as if it belonged in a crypt.

  His head was still attached to his body, so there was hope we could save him. It was a small hope, but I adhered to it as I pictured slicing Death’s head off before hacking the repulsive monster to tiny pieces.

  Death was Death for a reason; he delivered his ability on the unsuspecting with unrelenting remorse. Now Corson, Wren, and I were close to that, too close. Sensing this, Corson spun and pushed Wren back, pushing her into the snow, as I skidded to a halt beside him.

  As Wrath’s shout echoed over the land, I tried to stagger back, but when Death closed his raised hands, I realized we were too late. Corson jerked beside me, and my heart stuttered when an unseen, cold hand fastened onto my throat.

  The cold of Death’s lethal grip spread down my throat, into my chest, and through my veins. With every laboring beat it took, my heart pumped ice throughout my veins. That ice numbed me from the inside out until I couldn’t tell if I was still holding my sword or not.

  Already weakened from the loss of his arm, Corson went to his knees in the snow. No, I moaned. Not Corson. I can’t lose Corson.

  He’d been my friend for hundreds of years. Together, we’d fought loyally by Kobal’s side and helped to take down Lucifer. We’d helped defeat Lucifer; one of these bastards could not defeat us.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t think we had a choice.

  When that hand clamped down tighter, I clawed at my throat, but there was nothing there to tear away. My legs wobbled, and I almost went down in the snow, but I somehow managed to stay standing.

  It wouldn’t last.

  And then, as if materializing out of nowhere, Wrath threw himself from Zorn’s back and into Death. They tumbled into the snow as I sank to my knees.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Wrath

  Wrapping my arms around Death, I twisted to the side as I fell from Zorn and slammed him into the snow. It billowed up around us and slid down the sleeves and back of my shirt. I was already cold from blood loss, but the snow against my skin caused my teeth to chatter as I strengthened my hold on Death.

  Before Death could recover from my attack, I locked my arm around his neck and jerked back. My muscles strained as I sought to tear off his head. For every other demon, the removal of the head killed them, but Death removed his head regularly.

  Only the destruction of his head would kill him, or at least I hoped it would. None of his enemies had ever gotten close enough to kill him. With his power, he stopped them before they got the chance to go for his head. But his power didn’t work against me.

  Death’s skeletal fingers clawed at my arms. Beneath the tips of those pointy bones, my flesh shredded from my arms, and blood oozed free. Under normal circumstances, my blood probably would have poured free of the deep, muscle-rending gouges he created, but I had little blood left in me for such a thing.

  Through sheer willpower, I found the strength to enclose my legs around his thighs and pin them to the ground. He bucked, kicked, and flailed in my arms, but he couldn’t break free. Flames flared to life at the end of my fingertips and slid up to my elbows. I tried to get the fire to encompass my entire body, but I’d lost too much blood, and my strength was dwindling.

  Still, I gritted my teeth and adhered to him as his strength outmatched mine. I could not, would not, let him go. If I did, he would go for Bale again, and I couldn’t stand to see the color draining from her face, the panic in her eyes, or her skin sloughing off the way Shax’s had.

  The reminder of her suffering caused a fresh rush of strength to course through me. My flames burned hotter as they raced over the two of us. Death didn’t scream, but my fire did not affect him like it did others. He had no flesh for the flames to consume.

  Instead, they ate away his clothes and left his bones in my grasp. The fire would also destroy his eyes, but he would never let me know if that happened. Even if my flames didn’t harm him, I still kept us engulfed in the hopes of destroying his eyes.

  I was so focused on trying to decapitate him so I could smash his head to bits, that I didn’t see his mount until its hooves flashed over my head. I rolled to the side in time to avoid having the powerful beast stomp on me.

  My roll was enough movement for Death to throw back his head and batter it into my nose. My legs lost their grip on his, but I clung to his throat as he clawed at the snow to break free of me. From the corner of my eye, I saw his horse coming back at us and rolled again.

  This time, I wasn’t fast enough to completely avoid its attack. Its hooves struck me in the back, sliced open my flesh, and something cracked in my back before my legs went numb. I tried to move my toes, but if they twitched, I couldn’t tell.

  When Death’s mount reared over me again, I held my breath as I waited for another spine-crushing blow. This one might tear me in half.

  But instead of feeling the weight of the horse coming down to sever my spine further, and my bones splintering into jagged pieces, I was saved from the blow by Zorn crashing into its side. The sound of the impact caused me to wince as the two horses vanished into the snow.

  With my legs now useless, it took everything I had to keep my hold on Death. My newest injury had weakened me further, and my flames were little more than small sparks that danced across my fingertips and ran down to my elbows.

  Still, I hooked my fingers inside Death’s mouth and twisted his head to the side. His teeth clamped down hard enough to pierce through my skin and hit the bone. As he worked his jaw back and forth, he scoured his teeth against my bones while
I continued to twist his head to the side. My index finger tore away, and my stomach turned when the fucker gulped it down.

  I had to get his head off before he succeeded in eating the rest of my fingers. Gathering my dwindling strength, I yanked to the side and experienced a moment of grim satisfaction when a crack echoed throughout the day.

  As I twisted his head further, he somehow managed to turn beneath me, so his bony fists pummeled the side of my head. My cheekbones gave way, and blinding white stars filled my vision; he consumed another one of my fingers. Still, I managed to keep twisting his head until I succeeded in rending it from his shoulders.

  The decapitation didn’t slow Death’s attack. His teeth continued to grind against my remaining fingers while he pummeled my broken skull and face. I dragged his head toward me with the intent of smashing it into tiny pieces, but the loss of another finger destabilized my hold on it.

  Snow suddenly billowed up in a cloud around me; the chill of it felt good against my battered head. From my one, barely good eye, I saw legs, but snow covered the feet, or at least I assumed they were in the snow. I couldn’t tell anymore as my vision narrowed to little more than a pinpoint.

  “Give me the skull,” a commanding voice said.

  I dimly recognized the voice, but the fuzziness clouding my mind made it impossible to tell who it was. A ringing sounded in my head and ears; it rose until it drowned out nearly all other sounds.

  A metallic taste filled my mouth, and something warm slid down the back of my throat. The taste and sensation were so familiar, but trying to figure it out was nearly impossible as flashes of memories ran through my mind.

  I caught glimpses of myself behind the seal, sitting in the woods with the nymphs, riding Zorn through Hell, relishing Bale’s body as she moved against me. Millions of different images flashed through my mind before they all ceased as a thick cloud of blackness started to overtake me.

  “I will destroy it,” the voice said.

  What remained of my fingers clung to Death’s head. He had to be destroyed. I couldn’t allow him near Bale.

  “He will not survive what I will do to him,” the voice said.

  For the first time, Death howled and beat at me with renewed intensity. Death’s reaction to the words caused me to relinquish the skull. If whoever stood beside me terrified Death, then they could do as they promised.

  But it didn’t matter; I had no other choice but to trust the voice as the blackness crept further through me.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Bale

  I staggered to my feet as Raphael took Death’s head from Wrath and held it in his hands. Death’s jaw opened and shut as if he were trying to speak or bite Raphael. If he was speaking, I couldn’t hear what he was saying, and Raphael didn’t seem fazed by it.

  My gaze fell on Wrath’s battered body and a strangled cry trapped in my throat. The snow hid most of him, but black blood stained the ground around him, and he hadn’t moved since Raphael took Death’s head from him. He wasn’t dead; his head remained attached, but how much damage had he endured?

  Beneath him, Death’s body thrashed to break free of Wrath’s weight. I took a wavering step forward, but still weakened from Death’s grip on me, I collapsed into the snow before I made it any further. My head fell forward, and my shoulders heaved as I struggled to shed my remaining weakness.

  Lifting my head, I stared at Death’s skull again. Wrath had burned his eyes out of his head until only the empty skull remained, but I had a feeling Death was still aware of what was happening around him. Or at least I hoped he saw his impending doom coming for him.

  Golden white light spilled from Raphael’s fingertips, and I held my breath as it spread over Death’s skull. What if the angel’s ability to create life couldn’t stop Death? Unlike every other demon and angel in existence, he could survive decapitation.

  What if there was nothing we could do to destroy him? Death was the natural result of all life, including demons. What if he hunted us for the rest of our days? The idea of spending the rest of our lives running from him was exhausting.

  Then that golden-white light flared higher, and a wail issued from Death before his skull disintegrated into pieces of fine white bone and ash that settled around Raphael’s feet. The angel rubbed his hands together to rid himself of the last of the ash as Death’s body collapsed and went still.

  A sudden hush descended over the woods; nothing moved. In that moment of utter silence, the world rejoiced its freedom from the horsemen.

  My eyes closed, and my head tipped back. The sun’s rays warmed my face as somewhere in the distance, a bird released a happy, chirruping call. It was picked up and echoed by another and another until their song filled the day again.

  Joy spread through me. It wasn’t entirely over, we still had more battles to wage, but this was the beginning of the end. Lowering my head, I opened my eyes again as sorrow replaced my joy. Wrath remained unmoving in the snow.

  I had to get to him.

  Corson grunted beside me and staggered to his feet. Wren arrived at his side and draped his good arm around her shoulders when he swayed. As sound and life returned to the woods, the remaining craetons bolted for the trees.

  I had no fight left in me to go after them, and when no one else, not even the hounds, chased them, I realized I wasn’t the only one. Besides, I couldn’t leave Wrath alone to hunt them down. No one here would harm him, but I could never leave my Chosen alone while he was in such a vulnerable position.

  I slogged through the snow as Zorn ambled over to his side and nudged Wrath with his muzzle before snorting loudly. He prodded at Wrath’s shoulder again, but my Chosen still didn’t move.

  I was almost to them when I tripped and fell into the snow. My fingers curled into the cold substance as exhaustion nearly overwhelmed me, but I pushed myself up, stumbled toward Wrath, and fell into the snow beside him.

  With his face buried in the snow, I couldn’t see it, but the gouges in his back from Death’s horse were clearly visible. Beneath his clothes and black blood, the black of his flayed-open muscles lay bare. Three fingers were missing from the hand stretched over his head, and jagged pieces of black bone stuck out of his flesh.

  A moan of anguish strangled in my throat. I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him, but I was too afraid I’d hurt him if I did. He was like this because he defended all of us, and now he was suffering.

  Zorn pawed impatiently at the snow, and warm air cascaded over my skin when he let out a snort of impatience. Gulping down the lump in my throat, I rested a trembling hand on Wrath’s shoulder.

  Taking a deep breath, I steadied my hand and carefully turned him over. Inwardly, I wept for the pain I must have caused him, but I kept going. I had to assess the damage, and he couldn’t stay out here forever.

  When I succeeded in turning him over, I bit back a gasp, and my hand flew to my mouth when I revealed the caved-in side of his face. The right side of his face was little more than mush as no bones remained intact. With no bones to support it, his skin slid to the side in a way that made my stomach roll.

  The left side of his face wasn’t much better. Blood soaked the front of his shirt, caked his pants, and stained the snow. In the center of his chest was a wide-open hole. Because the bleeding had stopped, I could see his heart. I didn’t think it was pumping anymore, and then it gave a lumbering beat before going still again.

  With the amount of blood on him and in the snow, I didn’t think he had much left inside him. My hand tightened on his shoulder as I willed him to be okay. When a shadow fell over me, I tipped my head back to find Raphael standing over me.

  I lowered my hand from my lips and swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth before speaking. “Can you heal him?”

  “No,” Raphael said. “I cannot interfere with these things. He must heal himself.”

  I opened my mouth to scream at him that Wrath wasn’t dying, but he was suffering when he didn’t have to, but I bit back the word
s. Raphael wouldn’t help, but judging by the sadness in his eyes, it wasn’t the decision he would have made.

  He wouldn’t interfere in this because that was the way of his world and mine. He saved River once, but he’d made it repeatedly clear he would never intervene again. No matter how much I wanted to beg him to make Wrath better, I couldn’t blame him for his decision; he was an angel. They had their ways, and we demons had our ways too.

  “I’ll help you carry him inside,” Hawk said as he knelt at Wrath’s other side.

  “So will I,” Lix said as he trudged through the snow and stopped beside Zorn.

  Relief filled me when I spotted the skellein. Part of his chest was still concave, and some of his bones bent at wrong angles, but he was healing fast.

  “I’ll help too,” Aisling said.

  “Thank you,” I whispered because I couldn’t speak any louder.

  They’d accepted him here because he was my Chosen. However, they’d all remained standoffish around him. No matter if they trusted me, he was the enemy. After what he’d done today, and the sacrifices he made, I didn’t think they would see him like that anymore.

  I released him before rising to grasp Wrath’s shoulder while Hawk lifted the other one. Lix and Aisling got his feet. I suppressed a wince when something inside his body grated together as he shifted.

  When we moved him a couple of steps forward, and his body moved awkwardly, I realized his spine was broken. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath as the conflicting urges to beat something to death or to sit down and weep hit me.

  He would survive this; it would take a while for him to recover, but he would survive. Unable to look at Wrath’s face anymore, my attention shifted to where Corson knelt in the snow beside Shax.