Paid In Full

by Rachel Rawlings

  “Just go get the damn bolt cutters. Just because I’ve spent the better part of three centuries around the dead and dying doesn’t mean I particularly enjoy hanging out in a grave.”

  “That makes two of us.” Placing one foot in his hands, I readied myself to grab the side of the grave and pull myself out. With one last push on the sole of my foot from Dane for good measure, I hoisted myself out of the grave and went back to the car.

  After handing the bolt cutters off to Dane, I dropped back into the grave and waited anxiously for him to cut the locks. The chains rattled away from the casket, hitting the hard-packed earth with a thud. Standing over the bottom half of the casket, I held my breath as we raised the top portion of the lid and revealed the remains of Lala King. Having never unearthed a corpse before, I admit to being surprised by the condition of her body. She was well preserved, in almost perfect condition – if you didn’t count the visible seam where they’d reattached her head. Lala was beautiful, the vivaciousness she’d been described as having still evident even after her death and over two decades of interment.

  “She looks peaceful.”

  “Jax, now is not the time to try to commune with the dead. Look for the spear.” Grimacing and whispering apologies to the long-dead woman, Dane ran his hand along one side of the coffin.

  Mimicking his technique, I ran my hands along my side of the casket, gingerly slipping them beneath her to feel for the spear or dagger. Scratching my head in frustration when we came up empty-handed, I noticed a small lump beneath the satin lining of the casket lid. Working the pocket knife free of my back pocket, I sliced through the fabric.

  “Son of a bitch.” Dane ripped the satin back, exposing the dagger and sheath secured to the lid of the coffin. “She took it with her.”

  “Just like Maloney said.” After a couple of hard pulls, the dagger came free from whatever adhesive they’d used to secure it to the lid. “It’s smaller than I expected.”

  Unsheathing the dagger, I was surprised to find the blade still sharp after so many centuries. No longer than my forearm from pommel to blade tip, it reminded me of a buoy knife. A buoy knife with angelic script etched into the blade and an ancient nail recessed in the hilt. Sliding the lethal weapon back into its case, I wedged it between my belt and hip.

  “I’m not sure carrying the one weapon that can actually kill you around in your belt is a good idea.” Dane opened his messenger bag, giving it a little shake to indicate that I should drop it inside for safe keeping.

  He was probably right. What if I nicked myself? Would the cut heal or would I bleed to death? Neither Thomas nor Tobias had bothered to give me details of how the spear needed to be used to kill me. I’d always assumed impalement, but what if it was a simple cut? Questions swirled in my mind, all the ways I could die if the weapon fell into the wrong hands. We needed to find the dagger and hand it over to the Principles. Those were our orders. It would be safe with them. Right?

  “What do you think Maloney meant when he said we should find out what the real purpose of the spear is?” Staring at the gaping satchel, I shook my head.

  Something wasn’t right. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but every instinct I had told me not to turn it over to the angels. The Elioud agreed. Not that her opinion mattered. Still, it was interesting that she hadn’t recoiled the moment we found it; that she seemed almost relieved it was in our possession and not someone else’s.

  “You don’t actually think I’m going to try to kill you or something?” Dane laughed, his smile fading slightly when I didn’t immediately disagree. “Seriously? After everything we’ve been—”

  “Sshh-sshh. Do you smell that?” Taking another whiff, I picked up the distinct smell of sulfur and brimstone that had distracted me from answering his question. “Demons. And something else. Something worse. Give me a boost. We need to leave. Now.”

  “There’s something worse than demons?”

  With the threat of demons quelling his anger, Dane helped me out of the grave before jumping and grabbing hold of the side to hoist himself up. Lying on my belly, I grabbed him by the forearms and helped pull him out. Carefully rolling to one side to avoid accidentally nicking myself with the dagger, I got to my feet. Dane tossed me a bottle of blessed salts. I pulled the stopper from the salt bottle at the same time he uncorked the vial of holy water. We made a quick pass around Lala’s grave. It wasn’t much in the way of protection charms, but it would be enough to keep the demons from defiling her final resting place any more than we already had.

  “We’re downwind of them. Probably a couple hundred yards away, but I’d say there’s at least half a dozen of them.” Rubbing my nose, I sneezed when another waft of sulfur hit me.

  “No wonder you could smell them from here. Apollyon has Maloney. He probably put two and two together like we did. We need to get to the car.” Dane grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the grave toward the car.

  We’d packed light artillery-wise for our roles as undertakers, afraid the extra weapons we usually carried would make grave-digging cumbersome. That didn’t mean we were unarmed, but we were definitely under-armed when it came to taking on more than six demons.

  “Hand it over.”

  Dane and I turned in unison toward the voice that came from somewhere on our left. A figure stepped out from the shadows of the treeline and walked toward us. The closer the person came, the more pronounced the curve of the silhouette. If the voice hadn’t given her away as being a woman, the hourglass figure would have. She walked in moonlight, dressed in full black with long hair to match billowing behind her.

  “Hand what over?”

  “Don’t be coy, Jax. The spear. Well done. Really.” She clapped half-heartedly. “You’ve completed your assignment. I wasn’t sure you would. The Principles asked me to take it off your hands.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Skeptical of our new arrival, I gripped the pommel of the dagger. “I wasn’t aware a pick-up had been arranged.”

  “There’s a lot you aren’t aware of.” She shrugged, her palms upturned. “I’m going to need you to hand that over.” Narrowing her gaze, she pointed to the blade wedged in my belt.

  “I don’t think so.” Shaking my head, I pulled the M&P9 from the holster at the small of my back.

  “Company’s coming.” Dane unholstered his guns and took position at my back, ready to pick off the demons and the something else I’d been sensing since the first meeting with Maloney, while I dealt with the newcomer.

  “I hoped you’d say that.” She took a deep breath, letting it out with a satisfied sigh and a bone-chilling smile.

  Without hesitating, I took aim and fired at the ground directly in front of her.

  “I wouldn’t have balked if you’d shot her toe off. Or her kneecap. We need to get out of here.” Dane looked over his shoulder to see where the woman was, then quickly turned back to gauge how much ground the demons had gained while we’d been distracted by the newcomer.

  “Don’t fucking move.”

  She moved.

  Why do they always move?

  I fired another round. The bullet whizzed through the air and missed her completely. She was quick, on me before I could get her in my sights again. With a downward strike, she smashed her fist on my forearm, breaking my left hand free from its grip on the pistol. Readjusting my right hand on the grip, I swung wide and cracked her across the brow with the gun.

  “You got this?” Dane fired a shot from behind me.

  “Yeah, I got this.” Raising the gun again, I centered my sights on her forehead. “Hold it right there, bitch.”

  “I used to be like you once.” Wiping the blood dripping from the gash in her brow out of her left eye, the woman smirked. “Not the whole ‘daughter of a whore and a Fallen’ thing, but the ‘eager to please the angels and believe everything they say’ thing.”

  “Well, you’re nothing like what I expected. Tobias talked you up to be this pure and perfect thing.” Eyeing her up and down
, I took in the tight leather suit, the low V-neck exposing a little more of her cleavage than necessary for a holy warrior. “Love the Catwoman cosplay thing you’ve got going, by the way.”

  Shoot her. Kill her. Shoot her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. The Elioud’s voice grew louder, all but screaming in my head. Don’t let her take the spear. Kill her.

  “I’d listen to your better half if I were you,” Apollyon’s voice whispered in my ear, a soft buzzing like a pesky fly. “The spear is meant for you.”

  With a violent shake of my head and a swat at my ear, I tried to get rid of the voices – the Elioud’s and Apollyon’s – so I could focus on the hunter in front of me and the demons at my back.

  Too late. They’d provided all the distraction she needed. With a lunging punch, her fist connected with my face. The familiar copper tang of blood filled my mouth. Spitting the blood at her feet, I wiped the back of my hand across my lips and blocked another attempt with my forearm. A flurry of punches put me on the defensive. Blows glanced off my arms as I blocked one head shot after another. She wanted my guard up, protecting my face and leaving my side and the dagger exposed. Tightening my elbow against my side, I did my best to protect the dagger and wait for an opening. She swung wide with a haymaker, and I let my right hand go, connecting with an uppercut that snapped her head back and rattled her teeth.

  “Jax!” Dane’s shout came from three graves over. The demons were closing in. “I’m out.” Tossing his gun, he pulled a knife from its holster on his hip and slashed at a demon scrambling over a tombstone. “Get to the car. Don’t wait for me. Go, now!”

  Ignoring his orders, I stalked towards him with my gun raised and shot three demons in rapid-fire succession. Head shots. The demons fell, buying Dane enough time to fall back and move closer to the car. Three down, three more to go.

  The other being I’d been feeling, the one I’d chalked up to an Elioud mind-fuck, made his presence known. Looming over the lesser demons, he was at least twice their size. Dark hair brushed the tops of his shoulders and swept across his brow, partially blocking his dark eyes from view. He reminded me of Thomas, the way he looked since we left him in Purgatory. Something in his build, the tone of his skin and hair, the hollowed-out expression. With laser focus, he zeroed in on me. I was his target.

  Dane barely made it to my side before the rest of the horde moved in on us. Trapped between a rock and a hard place. The Devil’s minions and their captain in front of us, and a woman hell-bent on killing me and taking the dagger at our backs. Not the best odds, but we’d faced worse. Divide and conquer wasn’t working. The demons had to be our first priority. If the woman really had been sent by the Principles, she wouldn’t want the dagger to fall into the Devil’s hands any more than we did. Dane had apparently come to the same conclusion.

  The words for the banishing spell were second nature for both of us. Voices entwined, we chanted in unison as the first demon’s skin blistered and popped. The last two dropped, writhing in pain as we picked up the pace, chanting louder and faster, but none of them disappeared. All three, though suffering immensely from the power we pushed into the banishment, remained in the cemetery.

  The captain moved forward.

  Sorrow and sympathy stirred within me as the Elioud mourned the destruction of her kin, breaking my concentration. Struggling to drown out her emotions, I stumbled over the words. Sensing my weakness, the demons fought through the pain and risked another attack. All but screaming the words of the banishment to drown out the Elioud’s cries, I emptied my clip into the remaining demons. It still wasn’t enough.

  The stranger’s voice joined ours, adding to the strength of the spell and pushing the demons back. Using Dane’s shoulder, she vaulted over us and landed beside the demons. Blade drawn, she sliced through all three, severing their heads with one blow, and still finished the chant without missing a beat.

  “Holy shit.” Gripping the dagger, I backed away from her and the demon corpses dissolving in a haze of putrid smoke at her feet.

  “There’s power in three.” She wiped a splatter of demon blood from her face. “From the look on your faces, I gather you realize you aren’t going to beat me. Give me the dagger and we all walk out of here.”

  Before I could respond, warn her that we hadn’t cleared the area, that the captain closed in right behind her. The large demon drove his knife into her side, twisting until the hilt was all but buried in her flesh.

  “Go! Move!” Grabbing my hand, Dane pulled me toward him, and we took off running in the direction of the car, leaving the woman in a crumpled pile on the ground.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What in the absolute fuck?” Dane peeled out of the cemetery, a cloud of dust and gravel in our wake. “Where to?”

  “Mt. Royal.”

  We were out of moves and out of ideas – the tavern was the only place we could go. The only place still neutral. If the Principles or their little assassin wanted to take us out, they’d at least have to wait until we left the bar. It wasn’t much, but it would buy us some time.

  “We can’t stay in the bar forever.” Dane flicked on the headlights when we hit paved road, checking his rearview more than once to ensure we weren’t being followed.

  Not that they wouldn’t find us.

  “We can stay as long as we want. There’s alcohol, peanuts, a little fruit for the mixed drinks, and alcohol. Everything we need to survive.”

  I wasn’t entirely joking. Raising my butt off the seat, I carefully removed the dagger wedged in my belt and set it on my lap. I took off my shirt and wrapped it around the blade, then shoved it inside my messenger bag. With one hand firmly on the wheel, Dane reached behind his seat with the other, snagged a hoodie off the seat and tossed it at me.

  “We need to regroup. The Principles and their lackey bitch can’t come at us in the bar.” Risking the ticket should a cop pass us on the road, I undid my seatbelt and slipped the hoodie on, zipping it up over my tank top. “Neither can the demons. What the fuck was that thing?”

  “I was kind of hoping it killed her. We’ll be exposed. They’re going to find us.” Dane slowed as we approached the art district, watching for anything resembling a winged creature.

  “If she’s anything like me, she’s down but not out.” Checking the side mirror, I noticed something lurking in the alley across the street. “As long as we stay inside, the worst they can do is talk us to death.”

  “This is the Principles we’re talking about – that is a very real possibility.” Nodding to acknowledge that he saw whatever was hiding in the shadows on the opposite side of the street, Dane slowly pulled up alongside the curb. “Anything?”

  Referring to my internal demon alarm, Dane wanted to know if I was picking anything up. Shaking my head, I confirmed what we both suspected. Angels. Waiting in the wings. Not all that comforting when you know they aren’t there to help you.

  “Make a run for it?” Dane had one hand hovering over the door handle and the other over the key in the ignition, just waiting for my decision.

  “On three.” Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I started the countdown.

  On my mark, we burst from the car and barreled up the stairs into the bar. For a moment everything stopped as all heads turned to see the commotion. The air vibrated as the patrons whispered about who we were, quietly questioning what we were doing there and why we looked like we’d just crawled out of the bowels of the Earth.

  Ignoring the stares and hushed conversations, I nodded to the bartender, Earl, and casually walked to our usual table in the back. The two lesser demons occupying the seats took one look at us and scurried away from the table, chairs hitting the floor in their haste to put some distance between us.

  “Well, at least our reputation precedes us.” Dane righted the chair and spun it so it was backwards when he straddled it.

  “I think it has more to do with the fact that we reek of burial dirt, holy water and blessed salt.” Righting my chair, I
sat down at the table and waved for Earl. “Oh, and you have a little demon blood on your face.” Licking my thumb, I rubbed at the spot of blood on his temple.

  “You’re going to wash your hands, right?” Dane playfully swatted my hand away.

  Earl came over and took our order, looking uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. His eyes flicked between us and the door leading to the small office and storeroom off to the side of the bar. Someone had arrived, and they hadn’t come in through the front.

  “Tobias.” Like demons, angels have a distinctive smell. Where one smells like sulfur, the other smells like ozone. The subtlety of the scent makes it difficult to detect, unlike their fallen brethren. It wasn’t something I’d had to worry about before.

  Times had changed.

  “Jax, Dane. May I?” Tobias’s hand rested on the top of a chair at the table next to ours as he waited for us to ask him to join us.

  “If I said no, would it make a difference?”

  Earl returned with jittery hands and clinking glasses. He set one shot glass and one beer in front of Dane and the others in front of me.

  “Leave the bottle. Something tells me we’re going to be here a while, Earl. You can put it on Tobias’s tab.” Raising the glass toward the angel, I knocked back the first shot and refilled the glass.

  Earl hauled ass behind the bar and didn’t so much as cast a backward glance in our direction. He was all too happy to tend to the other patrons in the bar.

  “Save it, Tobias. Let’s cut the bullshit. Just this once. What was she doing at the cemetery?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back in my chair and tried to look casual.

  “You met Ariel, then?” The angel shifted in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs to get comfortable on the hard wooden chair.

  “Ariel?” I snorted. “Not quite the way Walt depicted her.”

  “Not the mermaid.” Dane gave me a little wink. “Lion of God.”

  My mouth formed a little ‘o’. “Well that makes more sense.”