An inky wind howled from inside a dark cavern at the rear of the chamber. The ground beneath Idess’s feet bucked and rumbled. The wind snaked out of the opening in a billowing cloud of rank smoke and swirled around them, its roar blending with the sounds of the demon souls’ agonized shrieks. Idess covered her ears, but within seconds, the gruesome noises stopped. The souls had vanished.
Dear God, Rami had destroyed them. He had the power to destroy souls. Just like their father.
“Now,” he snarled, “I’m going to make you watch your lover die slowly.” He lunged, slammed his fist into Lore’s throat. The impact knocked the sword out of Lore’s grip and drove him into the wall. His skull cracked against the stone, and he did a slow slide into a heap on the floor.
“Lore!” Idess sprinted toward him, but Rami beat her there. He plunged the sword down, stopping when the tip bit into Lore’s neck. Blood ran in a slow rivulet down his throat.
“Did you feed from him when you fucked him?” Rami asked. “Can you feel his terror? Will you feel his pain?” He licked his lips as though anticipating the taste of Lore’s death. Lore glowered in defiance as Idess raised the cross-bow.
“Don’t do it!” She stepped closer, wishing her knees weren’t trembling and her voice didn’t do the same. “I will kill you.”
Rami laughed. “I’ve already won. You fucked away your purity and can’t Ascend. I. Win.”
With a wink, he drew back the sword and plunged it forward in one easy motion. Crying out, Idess pulled the trigger.
Rami yelped as the bolt ripped through his rib cage just below his armpit and exited on the other side. The forward momentum of Rami’s jab propelled the sword forward. In horrifyingly slow motion, Idess watched as Lore tried to block the blade. The sound of metal meeting flesh rang out as the sword bit into his forearm. Blood sprayed, but Lore didn’t falter as he leaped to his feet and plowed his fist into Rami’s face.
Rami wheeled away from Lore’s attack, still clutching the sword. Twin rivers of red ran down his sides. His glazed, shocked eyes shifted to Idess. “You… shot me.” His disbelieving voice was raw, gurgling, like the wounds in his ribs.
She jammed another bolt into the chamber. “I’ll do it again, Rami. Tell me where Rade is.”
A smile twisted his lips, the only warning before he swung the sword. Lore fell back under the assault, and pain flared in Idess’s heart as she fired another round. The bolt punched into Rami’s spine, dead center between his shoulder blades. His howl of agony was like acid in her ears, and she let out a sob as she watched him stagger into Lore.
“Bitch,” he rasped. His hand snaked out with more speed than he should have been capable of, given his injuries, and he caught Lore around the throat.
Lore snarled, and with brutal efficiency, drove his fist through the bolt hole in Rami’s side. Rami screamed, jerked as though he was being electrocuted, and crumpled to the ground. Twitching, he lay on his back, eyes wide and breathing labored, as Lore wrenched the sword from his hand.
Dear Lord, she knew Rami was corrupt, was no longer the warm, caring brother she’d loved, but as he lay broken and bleeding, his eyes liquid with pain, she saw only the brother who had comforted her when her human parents had died, the brother who had battled demons at her side.
“Rami, please. There’s still time to do the right thing.” She sank to her knees beside him. “There’s good inside you. I know there is. Where’s the infant? Tell us what you’ve done with him.”
Slowly, Rami stretched out a hand toward Idess. His entire body quivered as he gripped her fingers. Tears streamed down Idess’s face, and she sobbed when he coughed, spraying blood like a geyser. For a moment, Lore thought Idess had actually gotten through to the guy. But when the wheezing fit ended, Rami’s cold gaze met Lore’s, and his smile sent chills down Lore’s spine.
“The… demon child—” he sucked in a gurgling breath “—made your boss a fine meal.”
Pure, unadulterated hatred obliterated every thought in Lore’s brain and replaced them with only one. Kill. With a roar, Lore brought the blade down on the angel’s neck. His head separated from his body and rolled toward Lore’s boots. But even as the blood poured like a river from Rami’s shoulders, it formed sinewy ropes that gripped the head and tugged it toward the body.
Idess drew a blade from the sheath at the small of her back. “You are truly gone, my brother,” she whispered.
Though her hand shook, she didn’t hesitate as she slashed her wrist and held her bleeding arm so her blood mixed with Rami’s. Hissing steam blasted upward, and a heartbeat later, the ex-angel’s body went up in a puff of smoke and ash.
Tears streamed from Idess’s eyes as she came to her feet above the pile of charred remains, holding her wrist as blood seeped between her fingers.
She didn’t have to say anything. Lore swept her into his arms and held her as she collapsed into sobs.
Twenty-three
Idess didn’t waste much time crying. She’d destroyed her brother, and somehow she’d have to deal with that, but both she and Lore were bleeding badly, and they had to tell two parents that their son was dead.
“We have to go,” she croaked, and Lore nodded.
She flashed them to the hospital parking lot. Together they entered UG, and inside, found Eidolon cleaning up one of the multiple messes scattered around the emergency department; smashed equipment, overturned chairs, pills scattered on the floor. The spirits had been active.
Eidolon jogged toward Lore and Idess, slowing before he reached them, his devastated expression telling Idess that he’d read theirs.
“I’m sorry,” Lore rasped.
For a long moment, she thought Eidolon was going to break down. He swallowed repeatedly, his eyes bloodshot and liquid. But when Lore’s blood began to drip to the floor, he shifted into doctor mode.
“Come with me.” He left them no choice but to follow him into an exam room, where he gestured to Idess to sit on the bed, and for Lore to take a seat. “I assume the bastard is dead,” he said, as he gloved up.
“Very.” Lore tucked his injured arm protectively against his body. “Take care of Idess first.”
Before she could protest, Eidolon took her wrist. “Keep pressure on your wound,” he said to Lore. Idess clenched her teeth as he began the painful process of healing her cut, and when he was done, he gently wiped away the blood and covered the mostly healed gash with a gauze pad and tape.
Eidolon sank into a chair across from his brother. “Did you get… the remains?”
Idess closed her eyes and offered a prayer for the small boy her brother had killed.
“I’m going to get them the second I’m done here.” Lore said grimly.
Very gently, Eidolon rested Lore’s arm on his thigh. “You did a number on this,” he muttered. “Sword?”
“Wow,” Lore said, as Idess moved to him and took his good hand in hers. “You’re good.”
“I see a lot of this,” Eidolon said wryly. “Usually on Wraith. You ready?”
“Yeah.” Gazing up at her, Lore squeezed her hand. “Yeah, I am.”
Something in her chest lurched. Lore usually suffered alone and didn’t rely on anyone, and he probably preferred it that way. But he was taking strength and comfort from her.
Eidolon’s dermoire lit up, and when Eidolon was done, he wiped away the blood.
Idess sank down next to Lore just as the doctor’s pager went off. He checked it, cursed soundly.
“What is it?” Lore asked.
“Wargs,” he said. “There are two incoming via ambulance, and three coming through the Harrowgate.” Eidolon closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. “This makes eight in a matter of days. We have an epidemic on our hands.” He opened his eyes and gave Lore a look that chilled Idess to the bone. “Does Sin have any healing abilities at all? Any reversal powers?”
“No, why?” But Idess had a feeling she knew, and she saw in Lore’s face that he did, too. “Oh, God. Sin. She sta
rted it, didn’t she?”
“Yeah.”
Lore cursed. “We can’t catch a break around here, can we?”
Eidolon adjusted his stethoscope around his neck. “I’d like to say that this is unusual, but the last couple of years have been nothing but chaos. And it’s only going to get worse if we can’t get rid of Roag and his merry band of ghosts.”
Stupid bastard! You can’t get rid of me. You made me!
Idess wrenched her head around to the doorway, where Roag was lurking, hood shoved back to reveal a hideous, deformed face. His skin was a mass of dark scar tissue stretched tight over bone that was, in places, visible. Insanity gleamed in his dead eyes.
“Actually,” Idess said quietly, “I think I can do something about that.”
You can help me? Please. This curse… it is agony you can’t comprehend. I did nothing to deserve it.
“You hired your brother to kill his own brothers,” she said to him. “Your brothers.”
“Ah… Idess?” Lore’s voice came from behind her, but she held up her hand to stop both him and Eidolon.
“Did you hear me, Roag? You wanted your own brothers dead.”
Because they burned me alive! He tore off his cloak, and she nearly gasped at the shriveled, twisted wreck that was his body. And now I hurt. I starve. I thirst. Nothing relieves me. Please, help me. His lips peeled back in the most evil grin she’d ever seen. Slaughter my brothers and their families so their blood runs like a river through the streets. Gut them. Rend their limbs from their bodies and their eyes from their sockets!
His laughter pierced her like a lance carved of ice. “You want help? Really?” She grabbed Roag by the arm. Though he wasn’t solid to her, his energy clung to her like static electricity. “I can put you out of your misery. Absolutely. I don’t have the power to destroy souls, but I know someone who does.”
She dragged him out of the hospital and into the parking lot. Dimly, she heard Lore and Eidolon calling her name, but she kept going. Her brother had torn this family apart, and she couldn’t do anything about that, but she certainly could do something about this.
Inhaling deeply, Idess flashed to the realm where her father resided, where only his children and his griminions were allowed. She appeared on the steps of an ancient Greek temple, a great ebony building flanked by black pillars and set amongst other black structures. Once, she’d run her hand over a wall, only to have it come away covered with a sootlike substance. Where her hand had been, dirty white marble peeked through the oily grit.
The massive buildings and pillars and statues had once been pristine white. Now they groaned under the weight of taint and corruption. The entire realm was a giant replica of Athens, but in the dark. Athens, in her nightmares.
Still maintaining a grip on Roag, whose struggles were mere whispers against her skin, she climbed the steps and entered through the double doors big enough to allow King Kong passage. Inside, polished ebony floors stretched endlessly. Grim, dark statues of demons and humans in pain lined the walls, and in the center of the great room, a fountain ran red into a dark pool at the base.
She dragged Roag down a mazelike corridor, making dozens of lefts and rights, and finally, two of her brothers, one of whom she vaguely recognized, opened the huge iron door at the end.
Idess was nearly blinded by the bright lights blasting through the opening. The entire realm was set in a back-drop of gloom, but Azagoth liked his color, and, she noted with a wince, he apparently liked his Beatles music.
He turned to her from where he was standing before an archway, where griminions paraded by, leading the souls of dead demons. The moment he turned, the griminions halted in their tracks, unwilling to move forward to their final destination, Sheoul-gra, until their boss had seen and approved every soul brought before him.
Azagoth was the epitome of male beauty. Appearing to be in his early thirties, he was tall, with black hair, chiseled cheekbones, and a strong, square jaw. He wore a button-down emerald shirt that matched his eyes, and black, slim-fitting pants that emphasized long legs. In his hand, he had a cup of Starbucks coffee.
“Daughter,” he said, his smile one that would make any human woman swoon but that only looked cold to Idess. “It’s been centuries.” He cast a glance at Roag, who, once inside the room, had become solid. “And you brought a guest.”
“Where am I?” Roag shouted. “What have you done, you stupid cunt?”
Idess released Roag and wondered how many showers she’d have to take before her skin stopped crawling from the feel of his touch. He careened around the room, but when it became clear that there was no way out, he rushed her. He swiped at her, but his clawlike hand passed harmlessly through her body.
“As you can see, you have no power here.” Azagoth casually crossed his arms over his chest. “Or anywhere.”
Roag’s eyes bulged as he stared at his hand. “Am I… dead?”
“Unfortunately not,” Idess said. “Why am I here?” The demon rounded on Azagoth. “Who are you?”
Oh, this promised to be good.
Her father had a flair for the dramatic, and he allowed a few moments of tense silence to tick by before saying, “I’m the being you know as the Grim Reaper.”
Roag made a strangled noise. “Wh-what do you want with me?”
“I don’t know. Daughter?” Azagoth moved to his desk, a modern oak monstrosity next to a fireplace that was lit, but didn’t give off heat. His chamber was freezing. He took a seat, kicked his feet up on his desk, and waited for her to say something.
“Father,” she said, prepping herself for the formal speech he preferred, “I humbly request that you put an end to this vile creature. I would have done so myself on the earthly realm, but he is cursed to formlessness, and has no body to kill.”
Azagoth put down his coffee. “Truly? Interesting curse.”
“Interesting?” Roag screeched. “It is suffering of the cruelest kind!”
“Please,” Idess scoffed. “Hearing you whine about cruelty, given what you’ve done in your life, makes me sick.”
Roag sneered at her. “So you brought me here to kill me. Do you think that scares me? Do you think I’m pissing my pants? Death is welcome.”
No doubt death was much preferable to the fate he was suffering. After death, he’d be taken to Sheoul-gra, where he’d hang out with other demons until he was reborn.
“Father, I don’t want him dead.” She stepped forward, shoving Roag aside. “I want him destroyed.”
Roag’s gasp echoed through the room, and in the tunnel, even the griminions shuddered. “You can’t do that,” he rasped. “You have no right!”
Azagoth steepled his fingers over his chest and pinned her to the wall with his cold gaze. “What you ask is rarely done. In all my time, I have destroyed only a handful of souls, and not without consequence. So why, dear daughter, should I risk Satan’s wrath for this one demon?”
She glanced at Roag, who stood near the tunnel archway. His eyes gleamed hellfire crimson, and malevolence emanated so strongly from him that the demon soul nearest him kept trying to inch away, only to be held steady by his griminion escort.
“He is evil such as I’ve never felt, Father. He has cavorted with fallen angels, including my brother, your son, Rami, also known as Rariel. Given his history and strength of evil, I fear that Roag’s time in Sheoul-gra will be short, and that he’s strong enough to be reborn with his memories intact. He will never stop seeking revenge, and a soul like that will only serve Satan and bring him more power.”
Shadows flitted in Azagoth’s eyes, and dread flitted in her stomach. “Speaking of Rami… I no longer feel his life force.”
She nodded. “I destroyed him, Father.”
The shadows danced faster, grew darker. “Where did you kill him?”
“Sheoul. The Forbidden Abyssal.”
“Your service to humanity has cost you.” Slowly, Azagoth came to his feet and went to Roag. The shriveled demon trembled as her father
’s hand clamped down on the demon’s throat.
Roag’s eyes squeezed closed. “Please… no…”
“I know who you are,” Azagoth whispered. “I saw every soul you tortured and killed when they passed through my archway. I felt their suffering. My daughter is right about you, and even had she not asked me to end your existence permanently, I would have done so. You see, God demands equal and opposite. Tit for tat. And evil as great as yours has no pure, good match in the human world. You unbalance the universe. So you shall disappear.”
With that, he squeezed. Roag’s eyes flew open, and his silent scream rang like a shrill whistle through Idess’s mind as his body began a violent tremor. Fire flew from her father’s fingertips and spread down Roag’s already burned body until only ash in the form of a demon remained.
And then there was nothing. No ash, no soul, no evil.
For some reason, the Blue Oyster Cult song “Don’t Fear The Reaper” rang through her head as he turned to her. “Was there anything else?”
The pleasant way he’d asked that made her want to reply with, “A side of fries, please.” Instead, she bowed. “Thank you, Father, but no.”
“Idess.” His voice was soft, but urgent. “It’s coming for you. The light. And whatever you do, do not run.”
Lore strode into Deth’s chamber, mind focused on one single goal. He would take back Rade’s remains. Eidolon had sworn not to tell Shade and Runa anything until Lore got back to UG, though Lore wasn’t sure how much easier the news would be with a body to go along with it.
Either way, two parents were going to be destroyed.
He swore when he saw his sister standing before their boss. Dammit. He had no doubt that he’d have to bargain with Deth for Rade’s remains, and he also didn’t doubt that Sin would only complicate matters.
“For your sake, I hope you have completed your task.” Deth’s right hand was hanging over the side of his chair, and as Lore approached, the reason why became clear.