by Rose Wulf
“No!” Gwen cried, doing her best to throw herself between the probably blessed dagger and Knox. She didn’t want Knox to die. She couldn’t let her brother kill him. Knox cursed and roughly jerked her backward as a surge of dark energy lifted from the ground in her peripheral vision. Gwen tried to scream, tried to breathe, but her heart was lodged awkwardly in her throat as she landed roughly on her hands and knees on the floor. Droplets of blood sprinkled the back of her hand and something heavy hit the ground with a thud.
****
“He’s who?” Ben asked, his tone respectably shocked. Or perhaps horrified. Knox couldn’t begrudge him either.
“Bad fucking news,” Knox replied instead of repeating himself. “And we won’t find him up here. Walking around banging on doors is just wasting time.”
“You’re saying my sister’s in Hell?” Ben demanded. “What are you even doing?”
Knox paused, his hand hovering over another jar, and turned enough to glance over his shoulder at the other man. “I’m getting ready to summon the bastard.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ben said quickly, coming up to stand next to Knox, “You’re going to summon the devil’s son into my living room?”
Knox returned his attention to the powders and spices he’d pulled together. “Wrong on all counts,” he said. “Lazarus is the devil’s son. Achan is Lazarus’s right-hand. No actual relation.” He started adding the ingredients into the large bowl he’d pilfered from Ben’s cupboard, adding, “And you’re going to summon him. But not here. We’ll go outside, somewhere away from suburbia. Summoning him here would probably blow the roof off your house.”
Ben ran his hands through his hair. “How is this our best option?”
“Because we don’t have the time to go hunting,” Knox replied. He tossed the spices and powders once and stuck the bowl up to Ben’s chest, prompting the younger man to take it. “Trust me, if the angels could track this guy, they’d have done it a long time ago.”
“Then how is this going to work?”
“The right summoning spell is unignorable,” Knox replied. “He’ll have to show up, at least long enough to need to open a new portal out.”
“How does that help?”
Knox met Ben’s stare with a scowl. “I’ll have to force my way into that portal behind him.” Of course, there was no guarantee they’d land anywhere near where Gwen was being kept. But it was their only choice.
Ben looked down into the bowl. “A few household spices is all it takes to summon a powerful demon?”
Knox choked on a laugh. “Hardly. I’ll have to carve a sigil into the ground, you’ll have to read a lame chant, and there’s more in that bowl than just a little basil and thyme. I brought a few things from my own collection.”
Ben swallowed, nerves radiating off him. “Do I want to know?”
“Doubtful.” Instead of elaborating, Knox grabbed hold of Ben’s shoulder and transported them to the forest area he had in mind. In truth, this plan was terrible. But it was what they had to go with, so he would make the best of it he could. The longer Gwen was in Achan’s grasp, the larger the pit in Knox’s stomach felt. He couldn’t describe it, he wasn’t particularly familiar with it, but it was quickly driving him mad.
****
Gwen startled awake, her heart leaping into overdrive as she sucked in a desperate gasp of air. But the half-scream died on her lips as she realized she was sitting up on an unfamiliar bed. She felt frazzled, more than she could ever remember feeling, and the last thing she remembered was Knox and Ben going at each other almost like rabid animals. Neither had seemed like themselves. Then there was the blood.
The blood!
She lifted her hand, nausea already building in her stomach as she prepared herself to see blood splatter on the back of her hand. She remembered it landing there. But … her hand was clean. Splatter-free. No evidence of the blood she swore had fallen there. How…?
“You’re finally awake.”
She jumped and turned, only to find Achan approaching her. That probably explained it, then. She looked around again and realized that, in fact, this was the same suite he’d brought her to before. She was just actually tucked into the bed this time. Or she had been before she’d sat up. “What am I doing back here?”
Achan sat on the edge of the bed, just within her personal space, but she didn’t mind. “I thought I’d felt something strange where I dropped you off,” he said. “Then another demon’s energy surged near you and you seemed to be in distress, so I pulled you out of there. I hope you don’t mind.”
She stared at him for a second, processing his words. It was as if hearing them, hearing someone else describe even a portion of that horrible scene, finally made it real. Tears immediately stung the backs of her eyes. “What happened?” she asked quietly. “Did they … did they…?” She couldn’t even ask the question. She wasn’t sure how to word it, and she hated the concept regardless.
Achan pulled her nearest hand into his lap and folded it between both of his. “I’m sorry,” he said. “From what I saw, it didn’t look good for either of them.”
Gwen sucked in a strangled breath and the world went sideways around her. Ben, her brother, her baby brother! Because of her! Not only that, as if that wasn’t bad enough, but Knox … for her? How was she supposed to live with that? How was she supposed to live with any of it?
“I am sorry, Gwen,” Achan said softly as he pulled her up to his chest and wrapped his arms around her.
She wanted to appreciate his comfort, but how could she? What right did she even have to it? She’d gotten two men, two men who mattered to her, killed. In the name of protecting her. Somehow, they’d been pitted against each other, she was sure of it. Manipulated, probably by that bitch demon. And in their efforts to save her, they’d—
It was her fault.
It was always her fault.
The fact that her own parents had committed joint suicide rather than continue having to see her face was proof enough of that.
Everyone died around her. Because of her.
She was cursed. Cursed to bring death to those she got close to.
She was the one who should’ve been dead.
****
“This feels incredibly cliché,” Ben declared as Knox stepped back and dissolved the spear he’d created in order to draw the necessary sigils in the ground.
Not having the energy, or the motivation, to roll his eyes, Knox replied, “Clichés all come from somewhere.” He crossed his arms as he faced Ben properly. “Did you look over that paper? You can’t afford to misspeak. We’ll only get one shot.”
Ben nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you. I read it. Honestly, I was expecting it to be in, I dunno, Latin or something.”
“We’re adjusting with the times,” Knox said. He bent and picked up the bowl, holding it out again. “I have to stay outside the sigils. Spread this over all three, connecting them in a circle. As evenly as possible. Be careful not to walk through it, or be standing inside the circle when you start the incantation.”
Ben took the bowl with obvious hesitation. “On a level from one to ten,” he said, “where ten is suicidal, how stupid is this?”
One corner of Knox’s lips twitched. “At least a twelve.”
“You aren’t actually going to try summoning him, are you?”
Ben jumped, fortunately maintaining his hold on the bowl, and turned as Knox looked past him to spot the speaker. Despite that he’d recognized Sinclair’s voice, the sight of the demon casually strolling up to them still threw Knox for a bit of a loop.
Knox walked around Ben and stepped a few paces forward. “What’re you doing out here?”
Sinclair studied the carefully carved sigils before shifting his attention to Knox. “Maybe I shouldn’t have given you his name. There’ll be hell to pay when word gets out it came from me.”
Knox crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t plan on divulging that detail.”
“You think
that spell’s gonna work?” Sinclair asked, ignoring Knox’s comment.
“It’s gonna have to,” Knox replied.
“You should at least set a trap.”
“What do you care?” For the life of him, Knox couldn’t figure out Sinclair’s game here. After their little scuffle earlier, he was pretty sure he’d heard the last from Sinclair. Never, in all the time since he’d known the other demon, had Sinclair sought him out.
“Well, at the moment, I’m thinking if you’re going to put my life on the line, you’d better do it right,” Sinclair said. He lifted his jaw briefly in Ben’s direction. “It’ll work better if you bleed him.”
Knox frowned and opened his mouth to shoot back his refusal, but Ben chose that moment to chime in. “Bleed me? You need my blood for this?”
“Technically, it needs the blood of an innocent,” Sinclair said. “Your soul seems qualified enough.”
“That’s off the table,” Knox interrupted.
“Wait,” Ben said, setting the bowl down and walking closer. “I’m not afraid of a little blood.”
Knox returned his glare to the man. “It’s not a little. He’s talking about slitting your throat and hanging you upside down while you bleed out. And it’s not happening.”
“If you want good results, you have to put in good product,” Sinclair said. “But if you don’t want to lose that man, I’m sure you can find a virgin on the brink of death somewhere. To ease your strange sense of conscience.”
“What?” Ben exclaimed, taking a step backward on reflex.
“Absolutely not,” Knox declared firmly. He held Sinclair’s stare. “I’m out of the virgin-blood sacrificing game, anyway.”
Sinclair said nothing for a moment, simply studying him. Then he inclined his head. “You’ve changed, Knox. I’m impressed.” He pulled one hand from his pocket, curled his fingers a little, and curved his wrist until his palm—and curled fingers—pointed up to the sky. Something solid, shrouded in dark energy, appeared at Knox’s feet. “Take this,” Sinclair said as the energy faded, revealing an old knapsack, in which rested something that thoroughly dumbstruck him.
Manacles meant to restrain demons. Powerful ones, at that.
“What the hell?” Knox asked.
“You passed the test,” Sinclair stated. “I won’t get involved in your agenda, but I’ll lend you these.” He turned and began walking off. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Not until after Sinclair had disappeared in the trees did Ben ask, “So, what’s that?”
Knox looked back down at the bag. “This,” he said as he knelt and carefully nudged the edges further apart to look inside. He never thought he’d be so pleased to see a device meant to harm his own kind. “Gives me an idea.”
Chapter Eleven
“It’s your fault I’m dead.” Ben’s voice echoed around her in the fog, his words cutting through her with ease. It felt as though she’d been stabbed through the heart with a burning blade.
“I’m sorry!” Gwen cried, unable to see anything other than swirling mist. Ever-shifting shades of gray and the bitter bite of cold air on her skin only served to remind her of how alone she’d become. She wrapped her arms around herself. “Ben,” she whispered, “I didn’t want this. It was supposed to be me.”
“Yes, it was.” This time it was her mother’s voice, closer, colder. Disappointed. For once, Gwen couldn’t find the energy to be angry with her mother. “Now look what you’ve done.”
What was she supposed to say to that? What defense did she possibly have?
“I knew I shouldn’t have gotten messed up with you.”
Gwen sucked in a breath and spun around, but it was pointless. Knox was as invisible as the others. “I,” Gwen said with a gasp, “I didn’t want you to die! Knox!”
“He’s gone, Gwenny. We’re all gone. This is all so backward.” Her father’s words, again from somewhere she couldn’t see, rolled over her and knocked the wind from her chest. She fell to her knees as more tears spilled down her cheeks.
It is, she realized. It is backward. They should be the ones who’re alive, not me. I should be dead.
****
“This new plan is much better,” Knox declared, mostly to appease Ben’s obvious uncertainty, after the intricately linked manacles were laid out in the center between the sigils he’d drawn earlier. Properly extracted from the bag, Knox had been able to see that it was quite the set Sinclair had lent them for this job. Blessed iron the color of polished silver, wide cuffs for the wrists and ankles, as well as a neck and waist cuff with attachments for the chains to further restrict movement. The wrist and ankle cuffs were attached to long chains and short chains each, the short to keep the wearer from moving their hands and feet individually, and the long to enable attachment to the other cuffs, depending on the wearer’s height. All cuffs were branded with powerful restrictive warding designed to contain demons stronger than Knox himself.
He could only hope it was strong enough to hold Achan.
“I hope you’re right,” Ben muttered, shifting his weight. Wariness radiated off him, but Knox couldn’t blame him. It was an anxious situation.
“Everything’s set,” Jaelyn declared as she stepped out of the circle of sigils. She turned her focus to Ben and it was hard to miss the gentling of her expression. “The next part is up to you. Just take a deep breath and speak clearly.”
Knox jerked his thumb over his shoulder, speaking to the angel, “You and I need to step back while he does this. It works best without the influence of supernatural energies.”
She nodded and moved with him to stand several paces behind Ben, who lifted the paper Knox had previously given him from a pocket and stepped closer to the circle. Ben’s voice filled the air, speaking the words for the summoning, and Knox drew a slow breath. If this went the way it needed to, then it wouldn’t be long before they’d have Gwen safely back with them.
****
Gwen stared at the cup of tea in her hands, finding herself almost physically repulsed at the idea of consuming it. Or anything else. Achan had brought it for her, after waking her from one of a handful of nightmares, and she wanted to feel grateful. He was trying to take care of her, for whatever reason, but all she could feel was guilt and sadness. Crushingly heavy and numbing. She’d never been so lost inside.
“You’re not drinking,” Achan said, settling himself again on the edge of the bed beside her. He reached over and laid a hand on her leg. “Dwelling isn’t good for you, Gwen.”
“I’m not good for me,” Gwen mumbled.
Achan frowned. “I can’t imagine that’s true.”
“It is,” she said. She held tighter to the mug. “You should go,” she added. “Before I get you killed, too.”
He gave her leg a deliberate squeeze. “I’m resilient. Besides, I can’t leave you here alone to fend for yourself. Or have you forgotten you’ve got another demon targeting you, as well?”
That’s right. The demoness. She actually had forgotten, in the wake of her tragedy. Still, it wasn’t like remembering really changed anything. “Let her come,” she whispered. “What do I have left for her to take?”
“Your life,” Achan reminded firmly.
Gwen drew a breath, the action surprisingly difficult, and succumbed to the cold vise squeezing her chest. “My life … is pointless.”
Achan sighed heavily. “You shouldn’t say things like that. I’m sure your family wouldn’t—” He cut himself off, the hand on her leg tensing before he released her entirely and stepped away from the bed. “It seems I’m going to have to leave you temporarily.”
Gwen lifted her gaze to him finally. She wondered, a little, why he had to leave. He didn’t seem to want to go.
He offered her an oddly bitter smile. It was the first cracked expression she’d seen on him. “I’m being summoned.” No sooner were the words past his lips than he disappeared in a sudden swirl of shadows. They fell away almost instantly, leaving the room suddenly em
pty.
The immediate emptiness perfectly mirrored what she was feeling. It was an emptiness no tea was going to fill.
****
Knox pulled Ben back as soon as the first wave of dark power surged up from the center of the sigils. He’d expected it to be powerful. So far, as the shadows lifted and swirled, he seemed to be right. There would be a moment between Achan’s materialization and the magically magnetic attachment of the chains. At that moment, Knox needed to be sure nothing happened to Gwen’s brother. She would be angry enough that he’d let her brother involve himself this much in her rescue.
All at once, the energy solidified, spiraling out in an angry burst. Reinforcing that their prey wasn’t at all happy with being called away from whatever he was doing. The shadows sucked into the ground, revealing a demon Knox had only heard stories about. Tall, a couple of inches over six feet, with slicked-back ebony hair and pale-gray eyes. He kept his face clean-shaven and apparently dressed like a high-ranking businessman. His face was just a little too narrow, though it matched his more slender build, and his expression was cold.
The cold, calculated look vanished when the spell on the manacles at his feet activated and the ankle cuffs took hold. The chain rattled, the waist circlet snapped around him, and Achan made as if to turn, but his wrists were already being pulled together and ensnared within the cuffs. Then the collar locked into place, and with a final, resounding rattle, the chain automatically adjusted itself, securing to the anchors around the collar and waist.
Achan growled low in his throat. “Clever,” he finally said. “But if you think this will be enough, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“It is enough,” Jaelyn declared, stepping forward now. “We’ve no intention to release you.”
Their captive’s lips curled in an arrogant smirk. “Don’t I have something you want, though? Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“That’s part of it,” Knox assured him. “You’re gonna tell us where Gwen is. Or the angels might mistreat you.”
Achan chuckled. “I see no reason to do that.”
“Oh?” Jaelyn asked. She held out her hand, her fingertips flashed green, and the wards on the chain flared in response for a moment.