CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“KEEN!”
His name tore raggedly from her throat. Suddenly, she could move again. Her mind blank with shock, she lunged at Abigail, prepared to skewer the woman. A few charred bodies blocked her way and she trampled over them.
She stabbed him! She killed him! Fucking bitch !
Damn squirrel. I should have protected him.
What am I going to tell his mother?
These thoughts flitted through her mind, insubstantial as moths against the glare of the killing rage rising in her gut. Keen’s hesitation had cost him dearly. She wouldn’t make the same mistake.
But Abigail was no easy target, dodging her sword with preternatural swiftness and grace. If Hero didn’t know better, she’d think Abigail was part demon.
Fucking Hell, Viridian, you dolt! Realization flooded her. Abigail was like her – a half demon! How was that even possible? How had she kept it so well hidden, both from her and from a demonhunter? Astounding!
“Now, now, Inspector,” Abigail chided, dancing away from Hero’s furious blade. “You can’t kill a helpless woman. Don’t you peacekeepers have a code?”
“This is my code,” Hero growled and lunged at her, advancing relentlessly. “You murdering bitch. No one will care if I eviscerate a fucking nun-killer.”
Abigail laughed. Her feet lifted from the rocky ground, en pointe like a ballerina, and she rose gracefully into the air and flew backward over the pit, out of reach.
Hero followed as far as she could, then stopped sharply, balancing at the edge of the pit. She contemplated a wild leap.
Her gaze was drawn down to where the bottom of the pit writhed with fire and thick shadows, overlain with those lightning cracks.
At the center, the shadows held a mouth, full of teeth, and eyes.
The skin of the beast seemed made of stars.
The mouth opened wide, inviting her inside.
It had already swallowed Keen; she should surely follow.
The urge to jump gripped her. To be consumed would be a glorious honor, a magnificent end–
With a gasp, she backpedaled, horrified by how close she’d come to submitting to its inexorable pull. This thing was powerful .
She dragged her eyes away from the pit and looked toward Abigail, refusing to gaze into Oblivion again.
She took heart in the fact that the creature wasn’t yet free.
If she could disrupt the summoning – or whatever the hell this was – she might stop the Devourer from breaking free.
Let it rot in Pandemonium where it belonged!
Abigail floated above the pit, serene in her fluttering robe.
Her black hair slithered around her head and her already fair skin had turned white.
She smiled with lips the color of blood.
Her slim, pale hands became long, sinewy and tipped with claws.
Almost everything about her became a little less human as her true aspect was revealed.
Only her eyes remained unchanged: cornflower blue, cold and cruel yet heartbreakingly beautiful.
Hero seethed at the unfairness of it and gathered herself for a suicidal leap.
“I’ll never understand why Father treasured you as he did.”
Hero wavered as Abigail’s voice filled the cavern, bitter and jealous.
She should have been shocked by the implications of her words, but she knew her father; his lust was inexhaustible.
How many other children had he spawned? Hundreds, probably, though she suspected fewer than a handful would have made it to adulthood.
Having some demon heritage in your family history was one thing, being half demon quite another, and such children were often killed at birth – possibly with good reason, she realized, considering this one was trying to destroy a goodly portion of the Realm.
Her sister . The word was a vile hiss in her head.
“ Treasured me?” Hero raged. “No one spit on you in the streets, I’d wager. Your mother didn’t gouge out those eyes, no doubt! Or ship you off to a deranged abbess! How dare you?! ”
Suddenly, the eldritch horror clawing its way up from Hell no longer interested her. Let it swallow this whole Goddess-forsaken world.
Abigail snorted in disgust. “Father nurtured your power, you ungrateful brat. He forged you in Hellfire while he left me to languish, the pampered pet of a weak and pathetic human family who craved power like ours. They shielded me from scrutiny, kept me safe with their money and vile potions.” She glared at Hero, her cobalt eyes full of resentment.
“For you, he killed your true mother – a weak, soft woman – and you, the favorite, were given the gift of a cruel one. She made you strong, made you powerful!”
Hero reeled, barely absorbing anything beyond He killed your true mother. Could it be? Was her mother not her mother? Or was this merely another of her father’s many lies?
Somehow, she didn’t think so. A strange mix of joy and hatred swelled in her heart. One more debt she needed to settle with dear old Pop.
Abigail sneered at her, revealing fangs the color of old ivory.
“But look where we are now, sister. Who’s the stronger of us?
Who deserves a throne in Pandemonium? You, the traitor, or me, the loyal daughter, ever faithful despite his neglect?
See what I have wrought.” Her arms spread wide, encompassing the vast cavern, wreathed in fire and brimstone, a primordial birthplace of pure evil. “I have earned a place at his side!”
Hero started. That was what she desired? All this just to please their leech of a father?
“You can have it!” she shouted. “I never wanted it. I’d rather face oblivion than spend eternity with that rotten bastard.”
“That was always the plan, sister.” Abigail’s clawed hands closed into fists as if pulling invisible strings.
A sudden pulsing of power thrummed from points all around the edges of the cavern.
Gleaming energy flowed toward the center, toward Abigail.
She grew brighter, larger. Light shone from her eyes.
Far beneath her, the star-dusted shadows heaved and the cracks spread, growing wider and wider, fed by the power she was collecting.
From children. From the students of Bright Renewal Academy, now chained like beasts awaiting sacrifice – and not the slow, torturous sacrifice of Sister Catarine.
It would not take six days to drain them; it was happening far more quickly.
Abigail was the conduit, siphoning all that pure power into the breach.
At any moment, the egg would crack and the Devourer would rise.
Hero gathered herself, calling upon the final dregs of her power for a great, suicidal leap. If she could grab hold of Abigail, she might be able to drag her down into Hell and close this potential gateway behind them both. Together, they would burn for eternity – a fitting end to demon spawn.
And if she missed? If she failed to drag them both to Hell?
Then all was lost.
She had no choice. Digging deep, Hero reached for the fires of Hell–
“Auntie Hero!”
The scream was faint, desperate, the voice ragged and young. Hero recognized it immediately.
She found Molly across the pit, small and pathetic, crouched on her knees, anchored to the ground by a bright chain – and she wasn’t alone.
Hero picked out a dozen or so others, boys and girls, all dressed in a similar uniform – not Clem Prep garb; Bright Renewal Academy had been the funnel for this place, sending “troubled” children to their doom with the enthusiastic consent of the entire town.
Suddenly, another solution crystallized in her mind.
Break the fucking chains, Viridian!
She bared her teeth in a wicked grin and gave her sword a spin.
“See you in Hell, sister,” she told the floating woman, then winked and blew her a kiss, pleased to see the triumphant gleam in Abigail’s eyes turn to suspicion.
Then she dashed to her right, moving with demonic speed, leaving a trail of fire in her wake.
She reached the first child and barely paused, her sword shattering the strange material of the chain like it was made of glass, links flying.
She flew past the child that had been tethered by it – a boy in a ragged school jacket, bright eyes staring, mouth open in shock – and yelled back over her shoulder, “Run!”
Abigail’s angry screech echoed the ringing of Hero’s sword through the next strand of shimmering chain links.
The child she freed had been ready for her, on his feet, chain stretched tight, and he didn’t need to be told to run.
Same with the next one, a thin girl of about fifteen, dirty cheeks streaked with tears.
Her face was a blur as Hero broke through the chain with an up hand swing.
“Look out!” the girl cried a moment before a streak of lightning crashed into the ground practically at Hero’s feet.
She twisted and leapt high, racing along the wall of the cavern to avoid a crumbling crevasse forming where the blast had hit.
She glanced back briefly and was glad to see the girl running after her friends, toward the tunnel she and Keen had taken from the catacombs.
Another child, another chain. More lightning slammed into the rocks, but Hero was moving too fast to hit. Her demonic speed was all she had right now. She freed two more children and could only hope they’d find their way out and avoid Abigail’s fury at the same time.
A low hum emerged from the pit, a deep rumble of rage. Abigail’s Devourer had to understand that its way out was narrowing. She hoped it was split in half by the closing of the summoning.
Molly was next – finally – and her niece was ready for her, on her feet, chain pulled taut. Hero wasted no time in breaking her free, but she stopped her headlong dash for this particular child. “Are you all right?” she demanded, her voice harsh with adrenaline. “Can you find your way out?”
Looking startled and unsure, the girl managed to nod. Her hands flew to the collar around her neck and it came away in her hands, dissolving like it was made of sugar. Relief filled her filthy face. “Y-y-yes.” Molly’s eyes lifted up to hers with naked gratitude. “Auntie–”
“Go!” Hero gave her a little shove. She didn’t have time for thanks. “Now! Get your father, the PKs – all of them!”
After a second’s hesitation, Molly nodded and dashed away over the shaking, crumbling rocks.
Shadows had risen from the pit, obscuring the edge of the cavern, but the girl ran with surefooted grace.
Hero turned her back on her niece, racing toward the next chained child, a boy with red curls and a bruised, puffy face.
He was gazing into the pit and the darkness residing there, but he must have been aware she was coming as he was stretching out his chain in expectation of her sword.
A violent trembling lifted the rocks beneath her feet, forcing her to stop and fight for balance.
Her legs wobbled dangerously. She’d used up so much strength already; she didn’t have much left.
It would take everything she had just to complete the circuit, but she wasn’t about to let a single child remained chained in this hellhole.
A flurry of pale fabric landed in front of her – Abigail, hands raised, fangs out. “You weren’t supposed to live! Your family should have strangled you at birth!”
Hero snarled, sword raised, attempting to cover her weakness with bravado. “They tried – and failed, time and time again. Just as you’ll fail, sister!”
Hero lunged to the side, attempting to skirt around Abigail. It was too big of a risk to attack her directly. Speed was still her best weapon.
But Abigail was having none of it. She gestured sharply, sending bursts of lightning at Hero with a malicious grin.
The blasts caught Hero in the midsection.
She gasped, momentarily blinded by pain.
Something hit the back of her head, hard, and she dropped to her knees, her ears ringing.
Goddess help her, this bitch was strong!
Abigail’s maniacal laughter rang throughout the cavern. Doubled over, Hero could only clutch her midsection, her sword hanging from limp fingers, and desperately shake her head, trying to clear it. One more blow and she’d be finished.
But the blow didn’t come. She took a breath, and another.
Her vision cleared and the ringing faded.
She began to pick up strangled sounds – shuffling feet and a low, angry buzzing.
Blinking, she looked up to see Abigail struggling, her slippered feet kicking at the air.
Thick, bright links were tight across her throat.
A red-headed boy stood behind her, strangling her with his own chain.
He was easily a head taller than Abigail, but she was still a half demon. He didn’t have much chance–
His gaze locked onto Hero’s, eyes bright with resolve as he held the writhing demon.
“Save the others,” he said, and then dragged Abigail to the edge of the pit, looping another length of chain around her neck as he went.
Without another glance in her direction, he jumped, pulling Abigail with him over the edge.
A roar of rage rose from the shadows and brimstone below. Hero forced herself to her feet and ran. She had a job to do, and that boy – Cole Graham, she belatedly realized – had given her the time she needed to do it. She would remember him.
Rocks began to tumble from the ceiling of the cavern, and the trembling grew into full-on shaking. The whole place was going to collapse on her head! The remaining chains glowed like beacons in the rising dark.
Five more. Five more lives to save.