Fire Within
Page 46“Yeah, I know that. State cops stopped her along the interstate to Chicago. She was going home because she lied about her prior employment on her resume. How did you know?”
“I didn’t know anything about that, but it was the picnic. Binderman was with Amy when they went to the restroom. She was never alone. That means she couldn’t have killed Jules. I’m calling Andreas on the other phone. He was talking about some meeting with Shale. Not a good idea, until we know who the demon really is.”
“Holy shit, Ari. Stop him,” Ryan said sharply. “I just got Shale’s death certificate from California. He died eighteen months ago. Shale is the demon!”
Ari’s gut clenched as Andreas’s cell went to phone mail. “He’s not answering. Maybe he’s still at the club and can’t hear with all the noise.” She punched speed dial and waited, holding a phone at each ear. Her heart pounded, witch senses brought to full alert by a sudden rush of fear. She urged someone to pick up, all the while thinking Andreas would be blind-sided by the demon. He was walking into an ambush.
Marcus’s voice came on the line. “Club Dintero. How may I—”
“Where’s Andreas?”
“Ari? He’s not here. What’s wrong?”
“Is he meeting Shale? Where?”
“At the agency, I think. About some newbie. Do you need help with the demon?” Marcus sounded puzzled over the panic in Ari’s voice.
Ari grabbed the vials of potion and her silver dagger as she raced out the door. The next five blocks took a million years.
Chapter Eighteen
Ari banged on the door. The agency appeared deserted. Blinds drawn, lights off. Where the hell was the night staff? A closed sign on the door hung unevenly on its string support. Breaking the front window to gain entrance, she charged across the waiting area and into the large main room. All the office doors were closed, but a light glowed under the door to Shale’s conference room. A thud shook the floor, followed by a clatter of breaking furniture, and Ari sprinted toward the sound, vaulting over a couch. Otherworld magic sizzled in the air. The sounds of a battle were distinct now. She grabbed the conference room door and tore it open.
Raw, unleashed power nearly knocked her to her knees. The stench of evil hit her, as nauseating as rotten eggs. Snarling, clawing, fangs and pointed teeth flashing, the vampire and the demon were locked in combat. Ari edged in and flattened against the wall, throwing her arms out to steady herself against the swirling winds of energy. The combatants spun in dizzying motion, each grasping for the advantage and desperate to shake the hold of the other. Blood splashed the walls and floor. Ari’s nostrils flared.
As she stared at the battle, her face contorted in dismay. She’d spent two days preparing to confront this thing in human form. Wasted days. For the creature was in full demon glory, seven feet of fiery red evil. Her heart plummeted. The binding spell was useless. If they weren’t moving so fast, the banishing potion might do the trick. She would have to cover the demon with as much magical liquid as possible. A direct hit. Impossible as they spun around the room.
When Andreas yanked free of the creatures’ claws for a brief instant, Ari cringed at the amount of blood dripping from a deep sword slash across his back. An ambush injury. The weapon lay on the floor.
She started toward the demon, but Andreas charged in and re-engaged, continuing their deadly dance at lightning speeds, no more than spiraling blurs. Inseparably locked, the combatants offered no opportunity for her to intervene. Nor could she physically compete in the horror occurring before her. She dodged around the room, staying out of contact, peering, crouching, thinking frantically, uncertain how to tip the scales. When she darted in to kick the demon sword out of reach, blood splashed across her face, but at least the Shale creature wouldn’t be using the sword again.
She’d have to use the potion. Even if she made a lucky toss, she’d get them both, and what would the potion do to Andreas? Were vampires demonic creatures? She once thought so. Now she believed differently—but was she willing to bet Andreas’s life on that belief? Dammit, this was no time for a theological dispute. If she was wrong, Andreas would die from her actions. Ari wasn’t sure she could live with that.
The demon continued to laugh, a screeching, grating noise like crunching bones. It crossed its arms over its chest and looked down its long, spiny nose. It was a very arrogant, human-like stance for a hellborn son of Satan. The creature grinned, exposing sharp spikes dripping with Andreas’s blood. She closed her mind against the sight.
“How unworthy, Ariaaaanna.” The demon drew out her name, tasting it, a predator smelling its prey. “Surely a guardian witch can do better. You shouldn’t have come here. I might have been willing to let you live, for a while. But, here you are. I can crush you with one finger, you know, but perhaps you’d prefer a demonstration of real magical fire. No? I agree, something more inventive is needed. Mmm, I think you will earn me a nice bonus. If a little chaos and a few undead exterminations are worth so much, what do you think Prince Sebastian would pay to be rid of a troublesome Guardian?”
While the demon contemplated her fate, Ari’s mind raced, some of her jumbled thoughts inconsequential. Like Sebastian’s name. What did it matter now? The demon wouldn’t be gloating if it thought she’d survive to use the information. It was odd that this thing talked as if it knew her. It bore no resemblance to the form she knew as Harold Shale. It was the material of nightmares. If her witch fire was useless, how did she alone fight a nightmare?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a movement that gave her a sliver of hope. Andreas stirred. An arm, then a leg. If she could keep the demon’s attention on her…
“If you think I’m so easily defeated,” she said, “come and try. Hand to hand, your strength against mine.” She moved to her right so the creature’s line of sight would follow her. She hoped to buy Andreas time to recover—if he could. And, if the demon was unwise enough to come close, she would drench him with her little vials of surprise.
“You’re much too eager,” it said. “What do you have in your hand, witch? A weapon? Holy water? Nothing will work. You are no match for Chzebar. Yes, I freely give you my name,” the demon bragged with another laugh. “Behold, your destroyer. Your vampire lover lies dead, and you will soon follow. That was your mistake, you know. Love makes you weak, vulnerable. It delivered you into my hands without my trying.”
Stifling a chill, Ari took another step to her right to keep his focus. Andreas’s leg moved. “Is that how you chose the others? Lovers bother you? Or is it jealousy?” Ari didn’t care what she said, she was only talking to keep his attention. Anything that would annoy him was preferable. “Are you upset that no one loves you? Or even likes you?”
“Why the chatter, Guardian? Hoping for rescue?”
Chzebar was disdainful. “I don’t hate them any more or any less than other beings.”
Andreas was on one knee. His head came up.
“Then what’s the point of all this?” Ari demanded, lifting her empty hand in an all-encompassing wave. She edged farther from Andreas, the demon turning to keep her in sight.
“You know the answer. Money, dear Arianna, and all that lovely violence. A pity there was so little shedding of blood.” The demon frowned, or at least that’s what she thought it was doing with the eye scrunching and the odd twist of its nose. “Daron’s vampires have become too tame. War would have been such fun.” Chzebar’s eye sockets flared with a brighter, burning red. “It can’t be helped. I’m afraid that was your last question.”
As Chzebar spoke, Andreas charged, catching him by surprise. The demon roared with fury. The sound rattled the building, as they went down in a tangle of arms and legs and a lashing demon tail. Andreas barely missed an attempt to sink his fangs in the demon’s neck. As he flipped over the creature's head, he was crushed in a bear hug, and their clenched bodies crashed into the conference table, chairs, and walls. Each fought to land the killing blow. Ari darted around the edge of combat, following their movements, waiting for an opportunity to do something. Anything.
Andreas’s strength quickly began to fade. His movements slowed, the demons’ claws more frequently caught him on a shoulder or arm. He was bleeding freely. Ari couldn’t afford to wait. There was no guarantee of the potion’s benign effects on Andreas, but if she didn’t act soon, he’d be dead anyway. The floor was slick with his blood. Time had run out. She made a decision and asked Andreas to do the one thing he said he wouldn’t. And she risked his life by asking. “Hold him!” she yelled.
With all the noise of battle, he gave no sign of hearing her. She slipped in the blood, nearly falling, endangering the precious bottles. With one hand supporting her against the wall, she threw months of fear to the wind. She lowered her mental defenses and projected her thoughts and an image of the demon pinned to the floor. Her magic reached out to his. If the link was real, Andreas would know what to do. Then, she’d find out if trust went both ways.
An instant later, Andreas used the last of his strength to wrap his legs around the demon’s legs, and they crashed to the floor in a heap. Ari leaped forward and hurled the potion, both vials, at the tangled forms. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">