Chapter 22
Atlas
The spiraling mass of demon smoke followed us down the road, decimating trees and buildings and anything else it came into contact with.
I tried to keep the truck steady, but the constant bombardment and loud explosions had me swerving to avoid massive pieces of debris.
Marta grabbed my gun and stuck half her body out of the window to try firing at it, but that only agitated it more.
“Where are we going?” I shouted. “Is there any place safe?”
“I don’t know,” she said, sinking back into the truck. She rubbed a hand over her face and furrowed her brow as her mind raced. “Maybe a church? Maybe Tita’s house? But if it got through the wards at the estate, it could get through anything. Where? Where? Where?”
“Wes?” I asked, glancing in the rearview mirror, but Wes only shook his head and bit his lip, bouncing his leg nervously on the ground. His decision paralysis shimmied down the bond, and I slammed my hand on the steering wheel.
“Fuck!” I shouted, but then reminded myself to stay calm. Getting pissed off while we were running away from a monster wouldn’t help anyone.
“Saint Michael’s Catholic Church is five miles away,” Marta said. “I have no idea if it will work, but Michael is the great protector. We might be able to lose the son of a bitch and get some rest.”
I didn’t have any better ideas, so I turned right onto the road leading to the church and slammed my foot on the brake when we got there, skidding into park right at the entrance.
We jumped out and raced toward the front door with the demon hot on our heels, wrecking the trees and buildings on either side of us.
Marta and Wes were in front of me, taking the steps two at a time while I shot salt at the monster.
Just as I was about to step into the sanctuary of hallowed ground, something ripped the ground out from under me.
Dark smoke wrapped around my ankles, slamming me down on my back. All the air rushed out of my lungs, and I banged my head on the cement steps as the demon lifted me into the air. The world faded out, and for a heartbreaking moment, I thought this was it.
This is how I die.
Funny, I’d always thought it would be some bloodsucking monster or rabid shifter that would take me out. But no. My soul would be an appetizer for Hell’s most fucked-up reject. All the shit I’d done. All the cruel ways fate had screwed with me. And this was it. What a way to go.
My dad’s mysterious words came back to me.
Don’t let him go.
Could this be what he meant? Was it the demon I wasn’t supposed to let go of? If my dying meant they were saved, I wouldn’t fight it. As long as they were safe.
“Atlas!” Marta screamed inside my head.
“Go! Get to safety!” I tried to tell her, but my consciousness was giving out on me, and the thick swell of red liquid burned my eyes. Blood. I must have banged myself up pretty good if the shit was getting all over the place.
I fought as much as I could, struggling against the beast’s hold, but the more I moved, the tighter its vise grew around me.
I tried to aim my pistol in its direction, but I couldn’t move my body around to the right angle.
The evil energy radiated from the demon into my skin, permeating my blood, soaking down to my marrow.
My body boiled from the inside out, like every atom, every microparticle, had been set on fire. I was an inferno, ready to implode.
Heart pounding and blood rushing to my head, I almost gave up. Marta and Wes were safe in the church and—
Loud gunshots rang out, the zing of bullets buzzing by my ears.
Marta stood on my left, her hands in the air, bright white light emanating from her palms. Wes was on the other side, raining lead and salt down on the demon until it was forced to retreat.
The grip on my ankles loosened, and I dropped six feet, landing hard on my back.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. But Wes put his arms under my shoulders and lifted me, practically dragging me into the church. Once we were inside, I collapsed on the floor, gasping for oxygen and holding my insides together.
“Atlas.” Marta scrambled to kneel next to me. “Are you okay? Let me see.”
“Is it working?” I wheezed, rolling onto my side to look around at the rows of pews, culminating in the enormous crucifix at the head of the altar. “Are we safe?”
“I don’t know,” Marta said, wrapping her arm under my back to help me sit up. “I think so.”
“It’s keeping him out.” Wes glanced up at the stained glass above the organ pipes, where the smoke hit the wall and cascaded up the building and over the roof. It covered the rest of the windows and spread out until it blocked the sun, effectively trapping us inside.
“But we’re stuck,” Marta added. She prodded at the wound on the back of my head, but that felt like a paper cut compared to the burn in my veins. I wanted to tear my clothes off. I wanted to flay my skin from my muscles. I could barely stand her touch.
“What happened to you?” Wes squatted down so he could get on my level, but I still couldn’t focus. Their bodies danced in front of me, morphing into two and then three of them before combining into one again.
“It’s inside me,” I sputtered. The words tasted like venom, and my throat ached to say them.
“What?” Marta hissed.
“It’s…inside me. I’m burning. I’m…I’m dying.” I scratched at my neck, tearing my shirt away to get at my skin.
“Stop it,” Marta said as Wes grabbed my arms to hold me still. “Stop. It’s not inside you. It’s outside. You’re safe.”
Trembling and sobbing, I tried to catch my breath, but every movement hurt. I thought I’d never feel good again.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Marta said, bringing her brown eyes level with mine, cupping my jaw the same way I’d done to her at Tita’s house. “Breathe with me.”
I focused on her inhales, sucking air in even though it sliced open my lungs, and I pushed it out when he did, shaking with the force of the exertion.
“Good,” she said. “Again.”
Together, we breathed down the adrenaline and the lasting demonic effects ringing in my blood. And once the pain started to fade, I relaxed against Marta’s body.
“Fuck,” I said and lifted my arms to rub over my face. I was covered in scrapes, bruises, and blood. My ankles were the worst of it. Deep searing welts wrapped around my legs just above my socks, blistered and furious. I wasn’t even sure I could walk.
“You’ll be okay,” Marta said. “I’ve got some herbs and my magic and…” Her voice cracked as she tried, and failed, to hold it together. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“Don’t fret over me, little witch,” I managed to string together even though my teeth were chattering. “You still hate me, remember?”
She laughed and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Good,” I said, patting her arm. “Good. All’s right in the world.”
Wes walked around the sanctuary, his footsteps echoing off the tall ceilings like war hammers. “How long do you think it can hold out?”
Marta brushed the tears off her cheeks and kissed me one last time before standing. “Certainly longer than we can. We’ll have to raid the kitchens and pray something was left here the day we created the liminal.”
“And the ritual?” Wes asked. “Día de Muertos?”
Marta took a deep breath and sighed. “I don’t know, Wes. We don’t have the book or my tools or—”
“We have to keep going,” I muttered, trying to push myself up to a seated position. “We didn’t come this far only to get this far.”
“I don’t have the ritual memorized,” she said. “Without it, I could—”
“Witches have been coming up with rituals on their own for centuries.” My head twinged and my muscles protested the movement, but I still got myself upright enough to lean against the side of the closest pew. “You’ll think of something.”
She snorted. “You put too much faith in me.”
“Well, better late than never,” I said, trying to wink. Unfortunately, I was sure I did it with both eyes, not just one.
“We’ll stay here,” Wes said with a firm nod. “Maybe we can wait him out. If not, we’ll do the ritual tomorrow at midnight.”
Marta’s features dropped, and her quiet unease slithered into my chest. She didn’t think she could do it.
She didn’t think she had the magical capability to come up with it on her own.
Truth be said, Constance wasn’t much to put faith in to begin with.
Why should we care what some ancient old bitch from the 1500s had to say?
We had five hundred years of knowledge and experience over her, and Marta was the most powerful witch I’d ever met.
If someone was going to get us out of this, if someone could figure it out, it was her.
Either that, or we’d die here. We’d get eaten by that fucking demon or worse, and at this point, I just wanted it to be over. One way or the other.
“Hopefully, we can cross over without him following us. If he does…” Marta trailed off and ran her hands back through her hair.
“If he does, we’ll have the full coven on the other side,” I added, clutching at my ribs. I was pretty sure one of them was broken. That fucker had dropped me hard.
“I’ll go check for food,” Wes said with a nod toward me. “Will you do your thing?”
“Right,” Marta said, tapping my boot with her shoe. “Let me see that.”
She kneeled by my side and tugged my hand away, probing the area with her pointy fingers. It felt like she’d stuck a lance straight through me. I arched off the ground, and she gasped, clearly sensing the sensation in her own body.
“Fuck!” I shouted.
“Don’t be such a baby,” she said. “It’s not that bad.
Let me just…” She held her hand up and chanted under her breath, that glowing light pooling in her palms before radiating over me.
I sighed as it dissolved into my skin, replacing the tenderness with warmth and comfort and…
snap! The bone bounced back into place, and I grit my teeth at the sharp agony that ricocheted down my spine and the back of my legs.