Chapter Ten #2
“She’s fine, eh? No wonder he wants her back.” The demon growled as he hooked his weapon under my chin, using its handle to force me against his body.
He buried his face in my hair, and his breath turned my body rigid. His ally bared his fangs in a smile. I recognized the ill intentions in his eyes. I’d seen them before, in frat boys at late-night parties and crooks on street corners.
Gasping for air, I struggled against my captor, only to realize how futile it was.
Muscles and steel locked around me. My hip ached from my impact with the ground, and sharp, wet pain shot through my shoulder where the flying beast had pierced it.
Sweltering heat and panic sapped my strength, weakening me.
Just like that, it was over.
As I prepared to meet my fate, a gunshot sounded to my left. The demon holding me reeled back, releasing my arm, and I shuffled away as he staggered.
A new threat emerged from the darkness, moving with inhuman speed.
His features were disguised by flickering firelight and blood-soaked armor.
The demons who had attacked me bared their fangs and sprang into action.
The first charged the newcomer, only to find a wicked, spiral dagger lodged in the tender flesh beneath his coif.
A heavy boot against his stomach sent him flying into the flaming pit. He screamed, burned up, and vanished.
I struggled to my feet, still trying to shake the pain from my sudden landing. The knife I’d dropped gleamed a few feet away, and I darted forward to grab it.
When I looked up again, the blood-soaked figure had engaged my remaining assailant. Every instinct I had told me to run, but with violence swirling all around, there was nowhere for me to go. Instead, I stood frozen with my weapon in hand as the carnage played out before me.
“Horrors!” the tall, dark demon called in a familiar voice.
The mare responded. In an instant, he was on top of her.
They fought together as one. The rider’s dagger sank into the remaining foe, the horse twisted, and her kick knocked the monster away.
Now in control of his mount, he swept towards me.
Powerful hands hooked under my arms, pulling me up and seating me in front of my unlikely savior.
Pistols, daggers, that dark, raspy voice. Hide armor that rubbed against me from behind.
I knew this demon.
“Sitri?” I whispered.
I tried to turn and get a better look at him. When I sat up, his firm hand pressed me down against the horse’s back.
“Stay down. The battle is ongoing,” he warned. “I can afford to take a few bullets, Lillia. You cannot.”
I opened my mouth, but didn’t know what to say. After all I’d done, all he’d said, he still caught me in my free fall. Hours ago, he’d threatened me, tried to keep me under his thumb, and now, I didn’t know whether he brought salvation or damnation.
At once, we were off, weaving through clashing demons and along perilous roads.
As the roar of war grew louder, my confidence faltered.
Sitri made himself my shield. His powerful frame sheltered me from the surrounding violence—a sure sign of the transient peace between us, which I wouldn’t dare to compromise.
“Okay. I’ll trust you,” I breathed.
“You better. Why don’t you hand over that knife before you hurt yourself?”
Resistance clenched in my chest. The knife was my only means of self-defense. “Why should I?”
“Because I need it,” Sitri growled.
“Use your own then.”
“Yours has a cutting edge. Mine is only good for stabbing. Give it here. Now.”
The fighting hordes had taken notice of us, and I wasn’t going to object.
Bloodied creatures and piles of immobile bodies lay scattered across the ground.
My breath hitched at the sight. I was witnessing a death beyond death; there were no other words to describe it.
Gunshots fired without pause. They were almost loud enough to drown out the howls of pain and angry shouts rising from nearby combatants.
Almost.
With a sigh of defeat, I offered Sitri the hilt.
He took it with a grunt and went to work.
Its sharpened edge cut clean through the cloth that secured my cargo.
Heavy sacks and waterskins fell away. Relieved of her cumbersome load, the mare gained a second wind.
She picked up speed as she raced along the winding badlands path.
The hills up ahead sank further and further into the ground. The bridge must be close. This stretch of road would be the most dangerous, thanks to the deep ravine that ran alongside it. Unlucky soldiers plummeted over its rim, falling out of the light and into the pitch-black abyss below.
Our mount expertly dodged our foes, but my heart lurched each time it drew near the edge. A single misplaced step was all it would take to send us hurtling into the gorge. The thought made me cling to the horse a little tighter.
A wall of demons had assembled at the crossroads. They formed a defensive line that halted the enemy’s advance, but parted with great effort to allow us through.
“And where in Hell have you been, my Prince?” a nearby soldier called out.
Sitri stalled his steed next to a mounted officer. Though I couldn’t see his face beneath his armor, I recognized him as Draven.
“Taking a hostage,” Sitri snapped back. I flinched at the edge in his voice. “Report. Make it quick.”
Draven glanced at me, his eyes lingering a moment too long, then turned to Sitri.
“There’s no holding this. The battle is lost. The Twin Winds are sharpening their knives, squabbling over who gets the honor of cutting out your heart.
They will follow you home if you give them the chance.
You should leave now, or the war ends here. ”
“Understood. Pull the forces you can. All else is forfeit.”
Sitri’s subordinate nodded, and we pulled away from Draven’s side.
At last, the bridge came into view behind him.
The line of demons closed in, yielding ground to the enemy as they sought to escape unharmed.
Our horse’s hooves thundered against the stone as she galloped across.
In our wake, it sent a shower of gravel raining into the pit.
A horn sounded. The retreating soldiers stepped out onto the bridge, Draven at their center.
Sitri and I returned to his territory unimpeded, but the other demons weren’t so lucky. Enemies pressed their line, forcing them together and backward onto the bridge. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, they moved slowly, clumsily.
The first cracks of distressed stone sent a ripple of panic through their ranks.
Only a few demons had cleared its length.
Rock and bricks fell, their deafening clatter a warning of impending disaster.
Between crashes came the scrabbling of demon hooves and boots as those trapped on the bridge struggled to get off it, shoving against one another, some pushing their allies from its railings, hoping to lessen the weight.
A tug on Vapula’s gifts confirmed my fears. The bridge was weathered. Unsteady. Unable to hold an army. I knew what was coming, just as surely as they did, and my stomach twisted into knots.
“I wouldn’t look,” Sitri warned. “There is no helping any of them once it falls.”
I followed the Prince’s suggestion, squeezed my eyes closed, and buried my face in the horse’s glowing mane.
Screams. Howls. The uproar of falling stones. In mere moments, the sound faded to echoes. Then, to barely a whisper.
The bridge collapsed. And when it fell, it plunged the demons it held into the unforgiving darkness of the ravine.