Azzy shook his head. “This is all pretty sick, even for the demons, man.”
Jasmine ran a hand through her unruly hair. What if Ma and Pa were in there? She would never recover. She couldn’t stomach anymore. She jogged back to the SUV on shaky legs. The dry heaves continued as she stopped to open the door, making her stomach muscles scream in agony.
Her gaze lifted, landing on the other pile across the street. More of the same. Death. Burning bodies. More dead humans.
Maybe this is all they’ve killed so far. Maybe we still have a chance.
But even as the thoughts drifted through her, she knew them for what they were. Lies. The demons had killed many more. She didn’t know how she knew, she just did. Killing every human on Earth would take them a lot longer. America was only one place. They might not have even thought about going overseas. Taking Europe or Asia. They had to kill all of their people too, right? In order to succeed, to claim Earth as their new Hell, every human had to die.
Not only the ones in the United States.
That meant one thing. There would be time. Wouldn’t there?
***
Jasmine relinquished her driving privileges to Amon. They were surrounded by flames at every turn—flames from more bonfires of the dead and buildings turned to ash on the ground, still smoldering. Garbage lined the streets. Overturned cars sported flames from their engines, engulfing the shiny paint. An incredible, sad view everywhere Jasmine turned.
The demons were one step ahead. The rest of the country would probably be much of the same. The roads she traveled would lead to Ohio eventually. Bael had already arrived there. Other demons probably stood right beside him. And on their way, they’d killed and maimed and burned everything in their wake.
Perhaps Lucifer awaited their arrival as well. Wouldn’t that be great? Bael she could hardly deal with, but if his boss attacked too, Jasmine wouldn’t stand a chance in Hell. No pun intended.
Jasmine leaned her head against the window and shut her eyes against the sights that would haunt her until the day she died. This might have been a war, but she’d never prepared herself for the sights of such an event. Never thought she had to. How wrong she’d been.
The burn piles kept popping up. More and more. The closer they got, the more there were. Jasmine’s power screamed inside her, lit her up, wanting her to do something. It slithered through her veins like a homing beacon searching for a target.
But it wouldn’t find a target. Not here. The demons would make sure of that. The real target waited at her childhood home. She needed to gain control, as impossible as it seemed. Tamping her power down, she forced it to behave. Stay there for now. You’ll get your turn soon enough.
Inside, she screamed and screamed at all the loss she’d seen along their journey. Mothers and daughters, sisters and brothers. Husbands and wives. How many were in those piles, lying along the streets? How many died in their burning homes?
In Iowa, they finally saw a car on the street.
“Maybe the demons haven’t made it this far yet.” Amber leaned forward, resting her arms on the back of Jasmine’s seat. “This is the first traffic we’ve seen.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes, but immediately felt bad about it. “You can’t call one car traffic. Plus, look how fast they’re going. It looks like they are trying to get away from something as quickly as they can.”
Jasmine pulled out her smartphone, touching the screen and pulling up her GPS again. The map showed them driving past the halfway mark. The sun had faded some time ago. Now, they drove through darkness, only the occasional street light guiding their way, along with the orange and yellow flames in the distance.
What she wouldn’t give to get out, stretch her legs. They’d been driving all day and half the night already. Probably almost twenty-four hours, which made her earlier estimate way off when she’d guessed how long of a drive it would be. Maybe they all needed a break.
As she glanced at Amon’s droopy eyes, she realized his door held him up and appeared to be the only thing keeping him from falling back to get the much needed rest he sought.
Jasmine cleared her throat and he straightened. “Okay, it’s time for a break. We’re halfway there and are making good time.” Jasmine pointed out her window. “Take this exit. The sign back there said there would be a motel.” If anyone remained alive to run it would be a mystery until they pulled up to the place.
“Do I want to ask what a motel is?” Amon asked.
“A place you can rent a room and rest for the night. Like an inn?” Jasmine didn’t know the proper terminology for when Amon lived, but she’d read the word in a lot of historical fiction, so hopefully it struck a chord.
Amon nodded. “Ah. An inn. Why didn’t you say that to begin with?” He jerked the wheel and Jasmine thumped into her door. About five minutes passed and they sat in front of a motel. A neon green and yellow sign read ‘Super Late.’
Creative name.
Amon unbuckled his seatbelt.
“No, stay here. I’ll get us a room and be back in a jiff,” Jasmine said.
Amon chuckled. “I’m just going to act like I know what that means.”
Azzy and Amber’s sleep addled voices drifted toward her as she shut the door. How they could have fallen asleep with everything happening around them she didn’t know, but Jasmine wished she could have done the same.
A man half stood, half sat on a stool as Jasmine stepped inside. His eyes were glued to a TV screen, the smallest one she’d ever seen. After waiting at the counter for a few minutes with no interaction from the long-haired man, she bit her lip and leaned over the sticky partition.
“We need a room with two beds, please.”
The man peeled his gaze from the TV and looked her up and down. His wide eyes filled with panic. “What are you doing on the streets? It isn’t a safe time to travel. Haven’t you been watching the news?” He pounded his fists against the counter, making Jasmine jump back. “They haven’t attacked here yet. But they will, mark my words. And you don’t want to be here when they do. You don’t want a room. Trust me.”
Jasmine softened her features. “Sir, we need a room. We’ve been driving for a long time. Please.”
He brought out a clipboard, tossing it on the counter. It slid into her stomach. “Fine. Risk it, I don’t care. Just jot your name on the first line. The computer’s down, been down since the attacks started.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “Probably won’t ever be back up again, if you ask me. Not with them around.”
Jasmine scrunched her forehead. Did he know the attackers weren’t terrorists? “Who?”
The man’s eyes widened further. “The demons. The red-eyed freaks that are trying to take over this world.” Jasmine wrote her name and the others’ names down on the paper under room number eight. The man grabbed her wrist. “Somebody has to stop them. Before they kill everyone.”
Jasmine shifted as she met the man’s hopeless eyes. She needed to give him a reason to keep going. She could tell from his expression that he didn’t think he’d make it much longer. He might be right, but Jasmine didn’t want him to feel like that. Not yet. Not until the demons came knocking on his door. She couldn’t stop them all, not right now, and this man might die even if she tried, but she had to give him something to live for while he was alive.
Instead of yanking her wrist away from him, she drew her other hand up and wrapped it around his, squeezing gently. Don’t worry, sir. It’s a work in progress, but one way or another, we’ll stop them. I promise.”
He raised his busy eyebrows up and wrinkles stretched across his forehead. “You’re going to stop them? A girl child? I don’t see how.”
Jasmine narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together. If he wanted a show, she’d give him one. As she raised her hand, she unleashed her power. Her hand shimmered with a blue tint and she held it right by her face, illuminating her features in the process.
With a half grin, he grabbed a key from a holder hanging on
the wall and dropped it on the counter. “Well, if anyone can stop ’em, I guess it’ll be you. Take the room. It’s on the house.” He paused. “Not like money means much in this new world we’re livin’ in,” he grumbled, leaning back against the counter, his eyes once again focusing on the TV.
Snatching the key from the counter, she held it in the air, jangling it around as she waved. “Thank you kindly, good sir.”
He mumbled something incoherent and Jasmine left the small room. He might have seen her power, but he had no idea what she could do with it. Perhaps he didn’t think she could stop a thing, but either way, she hoped she gave him something to keep his mind off the growing demon threat. At least for a little while.
The man had no idea her power derived from angels. Real, live angels. She grinned as she waved the others from the car and unlocked room eight. Pushing the door wide open, she went inside and looked in the mirror. She might not be the strongest. She might not be able to throw a left hook. But she had the powers of angels pumping through her veins, making her heart beat.
Maybe she could win this war. In a good versus evil fight, good always prevailed, didn’t it?
With a shrug, she fell back on the bed. Whether good always won or not, they would this time. She would make sure of it. A yawn fell from her mouth. A nap would do her good first.
Chapter 3
Evil Thoughts Lead to Evil Plans
Bael
Circling the woman sitting in the wooden chair, Bael sneered. The fear radiating from her made his skin sing with joy, something he never thought he’d feel. Her own home had become her prison, making him even happier. “Well, your daughter has four more days to get here. Do you think she will make it in time?”
The woman opened her brown eyes wider and moaned, nodding her head rapidly. She couldn’t do much else with the thick piece of duct tape over her mouth.
Bael ran his sharp claw down the side of her face, her neck, and stopped on her shoulder. “It only takes one slice with this. That is all. Then, you are gone.”
Her dark brown hair bobbed as she grumbled behind the tape, but Bael still couldn’t make out what she said. He cupped his ear. “What? I can’t seem to hear you.” Then he laughed.
The woman glared. Her name was Mary. The woman could almost pass as Jasmine’s real mother, but he knew better. An Angel Blessed could never have been born to a human woman. A human would die after giving birth to such a creature, the power that had grown inside the mother leeching away her energy the minute the baby screamed his first scream. So, the real mother had died long ago, a sacrifice they willingly made for the greater good. Most humans jumped at the chance to birth an Angel Blessed.
Stupid humans. Just another reason to kill them all.
Bael petted Mary’s hair. “Don’t worry. Jasmine will come to save the day. I’m sure of it. You won’t die this week. Perhaps next, though?”
He walked to the window, looking out at the adorable little town. People walked down the sidewalks, giggling with each other, smiling and talking. Ignoring the fact that demons had invaded their world and worked diligently to claim it as their new Hell. The people of this town had their minds guarded, or they had fallen down the denial slide. Either way, they weren’t focusing on the fact that demons openly killed humans right in front of their faces, on their little TVs. The news people reported the attacks nightly, daily, whateverly.
Perhaps they didn’t think it would come for them, since the attacks hadn’t happened near here. Yet. But they would. The demon army had already begun attacking other states. Their forces had split and now ransacked city after city, town after town.
Thinking about all the humans they’d killed already made him think about more pleasant things. He wondered if Jasmine had found his presents. He hadn’t left them, had run out of time, but his demon underlings had made sure they were in place. Piles of human bodies, burning in the biggest bonfires, all along her path. Well, he hadn’t known if she’d take the path he had to get to this small town, but he’d hoped, had gone so far as to plant more burning humans along other routes just in case. If it did nothing else, it would be the motivation she needed to keep going. He hadn’t been sure her mother would be enough, but he’d guessed wrong in that regard.
Bael assumed she’d come to the right conclusions already. If she wanted her mother back, she’d have to give herself up. To him. When Bael wanted something, he’d stop at nothing to get it. Fighting him, if she chose to, would do nothing but make her weaker, because he had no intentions of stopping. She would lose. Simple as that. Evil always won. Of course, the good people probably said they always won, but they were idiots.
“Bael!” Lucifer roared in his mind, making his brain feel like it might explode.
“Lucifer. How wonderful to hear from you.” Bael smiled in his mind.
“Where are you? Why have you disappeared?”
Bael rolled his eyes, thankful the evil demon couldn’t see him. “I am with Jasmine’s mother. I have also had communication with the girl. She is on her way to save her mother. What she doesn’t know is the only way she will save her mother is if she gives herself up in her place.”
Lucifer chuckled. “Bael, as if you think I didn’t know where you were.”
Bael rubbed his forehead, his thoughts jumbled. His reply hit the back of his throat just as Lucifer spoke again.
“I have been following the girl since she left the house across the street from your hideout. One of your demons let me know where you were, so I decided a trip might be fun.”
“Great. I am so happy you are on your way.” Bael tried, but failed, to fake enthusiasm.
“It sounds as if you don’t exactly feel that way, but no matter. I am coming, and I will make sure you don’t screw this up. The girl will be a good addition to our side.”
“I know. Hence the reason I’m here already.”
“I must go now. Driving is a lot more difficult than I would have imagined.”
Static entered Bael’s mind. He slammed his fist into the wall. Plaster crumbled to the ground as his hand disappeared inside drywall. He yanked back, but got stuck, so jiggled his hand back and forth until he could pull it out. Scratches formed on his skin, bits of blood welling. His anger…he needed to control it better. Especially now, when Lucifer was such a big threat.
The sound of something metal scraping on wood drew his attention back to Mary. Her wide eyes met his and beads of sweat dribbled down the side of her face, from her temples to her chin. He could smell her fear and that made his chest swell with joy. Might as well add to that fear. It would make him happier, at least. “Things may have gotten a little more complicated for you.”
She mumbled under her tape, but Bael didn’t need to hear her words. The only thing on his mind, the only thing he could think about at all right now, was how to stop Lucifer. Once the big bad demon got here, Bael would be able to do nothing. Lucifer could control him like a puppet on strings, and Bael could do absolutely nothing to stop it. He clenched his fists at his sides. Unclenched them. Took a deep breath.
Without another word, he walked down a rather short hallway to what appeared to be a kitchen, but the smallest one he’d ever seen. His second was soundlessly searching the cabinets. He didn’t jump as his eyes landed on Bael’s. He only nodded.
Bael rubbed the back of his neck. “Moloch. Our master will be arriving soon. We must get ready.”
Moloch bowed his head. “As you wish. What will you have me do?”
Bael shrugged. He felt like he needed a manual for situations like this. Something called How to Stop a Big Bad Demon or Die Trying. Maybe he could even write the thing. Bael tried to shift his thinking. What would Lucifer’s intentions be if I could be him for a day? He blew out a breath. He didn’t know. Perhaps he wanted to thwart Bael’s plans, or maybe take over.
No matter what, Lucifer continued to get in his way. His head ached from thinking about his master and all his issues. He rubbed his temples and Bael began retreat
ing to the living room once more. “Just be ready. I will think of something. When I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
Moloch didn’t make a peep as Bael found himself in the living room. He sank into the couch, the fluffy cushions wrapping around his back and legs. He didn’t mess with the TV. A good show would do wonders for him, but he already had one on. The Jasmine’s Mom Wiggling and Squirming show. As he stretched out, he laughed at her attempts. Didn’t she realize she’d never get free? Not when he had control over her. It didn’t matter. Whether she knew it or not, he’d enjoy the show nonetheless.
Chapter 4
Hotels, Motels, and Demons
Jasmine
The motel room didn’t have much to offer. A small TV sat atop a three-drawer dresser. One door inside led to a tiny bathroom with a single shower and a toilet, so close together one could barely move inside. The sink jutted from the wall right outside the bathroom. Two double beds filled the rest of the room, side by side with matching puke-green colored blankets. Jasmine pulled them down to the bottom of the bed, but couldn’t fold them well from their stiffness. The mattress didn’t feel much better as she hopped on it, quickly standing back up. The brown carpet tore at the soles of her bare feet, hard and scratchy. It smelled like must and mothballs, but she couldn’t complain. The room cost them nothing, so getting a quick nap in wouldn’t hurt any of them. Maybe Jasmine’s back, but…
Her phone poked into her leg from her pocket, so she ripped it out. “I’m going to call Cole real quick.”
Amon sat on the bed, shifting from side to side before grabbing a pillow and shoving it under his butt. “We should check in. Good idea, Jasmine.”
Dialing the number, she tapped the screen to send the call, holding the phone to her ear. It rang three times before Cole picked up. “Hey, Jaz. How’s your trip going?”