The Trouble with Demons (Raine Benares #3)

Mychael released me and came down those stairs even faster than he’d gone up them. Carnades didn’t flinch, but he squared his shoulders and stood his ground.

“That was a command, Paladin. To disobey me is treason. The penalty for treason—”

Mychael didn’t stop until he was nose to patrician nose with Carnades.

“I am well aware of the penalty.” Mychael’s whisper lashed like razor-sharp steel. “Your duty is to the people of this island. The archmagus is the protector of the people, defending them from any and all danger—even unto death. You will not run from that danger. If you require more clarification of your duties, I will be glad to provide it—after I close this Hellgate.”

“You will pay for this,” Carnades hissed.

“For doing my duty to our people? Gladly.” Mychael turned his back on Carnades to come back to Tam and me.

The elf mage’s face turned livid with outrage. “You will pay now!” His voice was thunder, his eyes blazed with self-righteous fury, his rage lashed like—

Phaelan hit Carnades over the head with a rock.

I saw it coming; I could have warned him. But I’d warned him once today. He ignored me, so I ignored Phaelan’s rock. I felt vindicated somehow.

Vegard bent over the out-cold Carnades. “Still breathing,” he reported. He sounded disappointed.

Phaelan tossed the rock in his hand. “You can arrest me later,” he told Mychael. “You’re kind of busy right now.”

“How long will he be out?” I asked Phaelan.

“Let’s see . . . Weight of the rock, angle of the hit, point of impact—at least ten minutes. That give you enough time? Or should I hit him again?”

“That won’t be necessary, Captain Benares.” Mychael looked at his men. “Knights?”

Those six Guardians had heard and seen everything, and they hadn’t budged or lifted one finger to defend Carnades or stop Phaelan. Mychael had ordered them to guard that mirror. If they protected Carnades, they’d have disobeyed Mychael’s order. Were these men Mychael could trust, or traitors in waiting?

“That demon came out of nowhere, sir,” one of them told Mychael.

“Not a thing we could do to stop him,” another added. “And we didn’t see the rock until it was too late. Sorry, sir.”

Loyalty. It’s a beautiful thing. Carnades sprawled on the floor was even better. And if we were lucky, there’d be some short-term memory loss to go with his concussion.

“Thank you,” Mychael told them, and he meant it. “Take Magus Silvanus back to the citadel and guard him well.” His meaning wasn’t lost on his men. “Vegard and Cadet Rivalin, escort Captain Benares.”

No one moved. I knew why. Their paladin was staying, and so were they.

“Knights, there’s nothing you can do here,” Mychael told them. “We’ll follow you when we’re done.”

Or not. He didn’t say it, but his men knew it. He also didn’t want them to see what we were about to do.

In my family, that wasn’t just exercising authority; it was getting rid of witnesses.

Mychael trusted his men, at least most of them. But there was a breaking point for every man’s trust, and seeing their paladin join with a goblin dark mage and the Saghred’s bond servant might test their loyalty or lose it altogether. Mychael couldn’t afford either one.

They reluctantly went through the mirror. Piaras had to give my magic-phobic cousin a push, but he went.

Vegard stayed.

Mychael studied the Hellgate while removing the steel encasing his forearms. He didn’t turn to look at Vegard. He knew he was there.

“Vegard, go with them.”

“I can’t do that, sir.”

Mychael pulled out a dagger and slit the quilted sleeves of his arming jacket, exposing his leanly muscled forearms. “That’s a direct order, Sir Knight.”

“I know.” Vegard’s voice was steadfast.

“You’re disobeying me.”

“Yes, sir. I am. I’m staying to watch your back, sirs—and ma’am. And to defend this mirror for you.”

Mychael finally looked at him, a sad smile curling his lips. “You’re a good man, Vegard. Thank you.”

“I do my best, sir.”

The shrieks and wails continued from behind the Hellgate, louder because they were closer—and there were more of them. The demons seethed en masse against the membrane, feeling its weakness, knowing that in mere moments they could have what they had wanted for countless ages—the end of our time, and the beginning of theirs.

Hell on earth.

And we were in the front row.

Tam spoke without moving. “Mychael, I’ve got a problem with your suggestion to take my hands out of the Hellgate.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Take a look at my problem.”

We did. A demon that was little more than fangs with legs was attached to Tam’s chest with only the Hellgate’s thin membrane separating them. The thing was gnawing at the membrane, mewling eagerly.

“If I step out of the opening, this thing bites a chunk out of my chest—the chunk with my heart in it.”

“Why don’t you stay where you are,” Mychael told him.

“I thought you’d see it my way.”

“You’ll have to take one hand out. Raine needs it.”

I blinked. “I do?”

“Yes.”

Tam laughed once, without humor. “Mychael’s going to use our power to blow sunshine up the demons’ collective ass.”

Mychael raised one eyebrow. “In a crude manner of speaking, yes.”

I got it. This place was evil central. Rudra Muralin started with black magic rituals and sacrifices, and once the demons arrived and started setting up housekeeping, the walls in this place were literally smeared with evil. I remembered my vision of Mychael when he’d joined our umi’atsu bond. Power shining like a blazing sun, deadly and unrelenting, an avenging angel. And with our combined strength, Mychael could very well be a Hellgate-banishing angel.

Our combined strength included the Saghred.

“You’ll be using the Saghred,” I said.

In response, Mychael took my hand in his, his fingers interlacing with mine. His large hand was warm and strong, and the pressure was reassuring. Through that simple contact, I felt the bright core of his magic through his palm. His sea blue eyes were calm and steady.

“We’ll work together. At watcher headquarters, you controlled the Saghred.”

“Until I lost control.”

“You didn’t lose control; you focused that power and used it.”

And a giant yellow demon went squish.

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was bone-dry. “Mychael, I don’t know what to do here.”

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I do. I’ll show you how.”

Tam pulled his left hand from the Hellgate and held it out to me. I expected it to be dripping Hellgate goo, but it was dry. I took his hand in mine; it was deathly cold. Tam gasped at the contact, and a shiver ran through him.

“You’re warm,” he breathed.

“Still being alive will do that.” I tried for a smile; it didn’t make it. I pulled the back of Tam’s hand against my chest, sharing what warmth I could, while I could. Tam’s power, his deep well of strength flowed into me and through me to Mychael, and it was my turn to shiver.

I felt a deep thrum of power run through us and down into the stone beneath our feet. The floor vibrated with it. My fear and exhaustion was washed away, a calm certainty taking its place. For the first time, I actually believed that this could work. My power, Tam’s power, Mychael’s power and guidance.

“Ready?” Mychael asked us.

I nodded.

Tam blew out his breath in a hiss.

We touched the Hellgate.

My magic flared, and my chest caught fire. Freed from the distortion’s restraints, my magic and the Saghred’s power flared and twisted until what was me and what was the Saghred became a white-hot cyclone. It filled me to overflowing, but it wasn’t like with the yellow demon, when its uncontrollable power felt like a wall of water crashing down on me. This water lifted me, like giant sea swells. Unfathomable depths of power surged beneath me, but it also held me up, supported me. I rode the power, flowing with it.

It was my magic. Mine. Not just the Saghred. The power that had magnified my magic had come from the Saghred, but the seed that it had grown from, the core of my strength, was all me. My father had been right. What I did with that power, how I used it, was up to me. My decision. My choice.

Tam’s power coursed like liquid fire through my body, red-hot and searing, my magic and his power erupting into an inferno that blazed through me and into Mychael, wrapping and entwining, joining the three of us together.

Mychael slammed all of that power against, into, and through the Hellgate.

Screams, agonized roars, and wails from a thousand nightmares rose around us as the light pierced the Hellgate to the other side, bright as a newborn sun. The light blazed and fed, an unrelenting and consuming flood of white fire, searing the darkness, cleansing the evil, and immolating the demons pressing against the Hellgate and beyond.

The blinding light exploded, and our screams joined the demons’.

Then darkness and blessed silence. I welcomed both with open arms.

Chapter 30

I opened my eyes and raised my head—and was nothing short of stunned that I was alive to do either one. The only thing left of the Hellgate was the stink. I could live with that. Better yet, so could everyone else on the island.

Mychael was on his feet, but barely. Tam was on his knees. Apparently, at some point, I’d decided that facedown on the floor was the way to go. Needless to say, no one was holding hands anymore. I rolled over and concentrated on breathing. A smoky haze lingered in the air where the Hellgate membrane had stretched between the two columns. That had to be the source of the rotten-egg stench. Other than that, there was no sign the Hellgate had even been here.