Black Howl

“Are you kidding? I thought J.B. said that you were bound by magic and all that,” I said to the wall. Then I rolled my eyes. “I am losing my mind. It’s all those spiders. That would put anybody over the edge. Nobody should ever have to see one giant spider, much less dozens of them over and over.”

It didn’t seem smart to continue going up when the castle might fall down at any moment, but I needed to find a window to the outside. I could fly out and get around to the front of the castle and find the others.

I sped up the steps and entered yet another hallway filled with the bodies of demons. The passage was lined with more multicolored windows.

I covered my hand as best I could with the sleeve of my coat and used the pommel of the sword to break the glass. Despite my precautions I ended up getting little cuts all over my face and hands from glass shards. I squeezed though the hole I’d broken—must lose thirty pounds—and emerged into the dark night.

The moon hung low over the trees. I had no idea how much time might have passed while we were inside the castle. I flew around the castle to the front door, where I hoped I’d see the others waiting for me. There was nothing except the abandoned cars and bodies that had been there when we arrived, which meant that I had to go back inside the castle to find them.

“We need some kind of magical IM-ing,” I said. I could probably text Gabriel, except that if he was fighting for his life, he doubtless would not be checking his cell phone.

The open door yawned before me, the empty foyer black and menacing. The last thing I wanted to do was go back inside, but I would never leave my husband and my friends behind. I pulled the sword from its sheath and held it before me like a talisman.

I crossed the threshold, my boots unnaturally loud in the silence. Far away inside the castle I heard the howl of a wolf.

I ran across the entryway, trying to figure out what direction the noise was coming from. And that was when I was hit from behind.

A heavy body crashed into me, sent me face-first to the ground. Fangs pierced the back of my neck and I screamed in pain. I elbowed Violet with all the strength I could muster—not much, considering how tired I was, but it was enough to make her weight shift.

I wriggled out from beneath her and rolled onto my back as she dove at me again. I slashed out with the sword and felt the blade slice through bone. Violet screeched and fell away from me, clutching her left arm with a clawed hand. The arm hung by a few ragged strands of muscle. She glared at me in hatred.

I struggled to my feet, dizzy and bleary-eyed.

“Poison,” I gasped.

Someone trilled a laugh to my left, and I swung the sword awkwardly in the direction of this new threat.

“Yes, of course there’s poison in her fangs,” Amarantha purred. “And there is no thrall here to heal you.”

I wiped dripping sweat out of my eyes. Amarantha was just a blurry shadow in the hall. I could feel my heartstone throbbing in my chest as the poison careened through my bloodstream.

Violet lunged for me again and I swung the sword at her, both of my sweaty hands gripping the hilt so that I wouldn’t lose it. She danced backward away from the blade. I kept my eyes on her. Violet seemed more inclined to do me physical harm than Amarantha. The Queen liked to keep her hands clean.

“What will you do now, Lucifer’s child?” Amarantha taunted. “The poison will kill you long before your friends get here—if they get here. I’ve left a few obstacles in their way.”

“You really are a gigantic bitch, aren’t you?” I said. My tongue felt thick and heavy in my mouth. “That’s your son up there. Don’t you care if he lives or dies?”

Amarantha was silent for a moment. I didn’t want to steal a glance at her since all of my attention needed to be on Violet.

“Once, I would have cared,” Amarantha said finally. “But he chose his loyalty long ago.”

“Because he fulfilled his duty?” I asked. This was an argument I’d had with Azazel several times. “Because he chose not to abandon the dead to dance at your heel?”

“Yes,” she said. “He is no son of mine.”

“Well, if that’s the way you feel about it,” I said, and I turned and threw the sword at her.

She didn’t expect it, and neither did Violet. There was a moment when time seemed to slow down. The blade flew through the air and passed through her chest, throwing her backward to the floor. I saw blood pooling beneath her.

Violet howled and ran at me. I had no magic, no sword, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to stand. So I didn’t. I threw myself to one side and cleverly dodged her attack by falling to the ground. Then I kicked out with both legs as hard as I could, aiming for her knee. I’m not as strong as Samiel, but I am significantly stronger than the average person. There was a satisfying crack and she tumbled forward.

I scrambled backward just enough so that she couldn’t grab at me, but Violet was no longer interested in fighting. She was dragging herself on her one good arm and leg to her Queen’s side.

The snake on my palm wriggled in warning. The sword was still embedded in Amarantha’s body. Violet wasn’t trying to hear the Queen’s last words—she was trying to get the sword so she could chop my head off with it.

“Damn it all,” I said, trying to stand and falling again as my head swam.

I army-crawled toward Amarantha’s body as fast as I could, but I wasn’t going to make it.

Violet used one of the columns to pull up to her feet and yanked the sword from Amarantha’s body. She stood unsteadily on the dislocated knee, but her expression was full of triumph and malice. I heard the last rattle of breath from the Queen, and the misty ectoplasmic form of her soul emerged. The soul looked as Amarantha used to, a vision of otherworldly beauty, not like the twisted demonic body Lucifer had given her.