Damnation's Door: A Cursed Book (28 page)

We made it without getting caught. I mentally thanked Max for his gifts, but knew better than to get cocky. I peered around the side of the windowsill and flicked my eyes through the hardwood and sandstone walled room. Two elegantly carved high-backed chairs with wine-colored leather seats were placed on the far ends of the stretching, black wood table. Under the table was a red and black Victorian style carpet. It was the perfect place for cover, among other things.

I stood in front of the window and slipped a knife out of my jacket. I laid the blade flat on the sill, sliding it under the small crack holding it shut. I found the latch and flipped the blade to push it open. My fingers squeezed under the narrow crevice and pushed up. I jumped at the sharp, grinding noise made by the window as it slid up, but no guards came running, so I figured we were still in the clear.

I hooked my leg over the ledge and ducked into the dining room, the familiar smell of roses and spice filling the air. How many meals did I have in here? How many times was I living a lie with the face of a family?

Shutting the memories away, I watched the entranceway while Warrick and Sephiel climbed in.

“Start in here,” I whispered, slowly making my way toward the kitchen.

The smell of gas filled the room as they splashed it onto the floor. I stopped at the entranceway and pressed my back to the doorframe. I couldn’t see anyone at the front of the house, but I heard voices echoing from the depths of it.

“Hey, you smell that?” one of them said.

“Smell what?”

I looked over my shoulder, seeing Sephiel standing across from me. We nodded to each other.

“Man, it doesn’t smell like gas to you?”

They were in perfect range. Before his friend could respond, I swung out from the dining room and jabbed the man closest to the wall in the face. His friend was reaching for a gun when Sephiel appeared and grabbed his wrist. The shocked man tried to swing at the ex-angel, but Sephiel was too quick. He delivered a vicious uppercut to the Blood Thorn’s jaw, then crashed his elbow into the top of his head.

While he was doing this, I was moving in on the Blood Thorn I had punched. Now that I had the space, I was able to spin and deliver a roundhouse kick the side of the head. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

Sephiel and I grabbed them and began dragging them out of sight. Warrick was looking at me for direction, holding the gas can tightly in his fist.

“Do the kitchen next,” I told him.

Warrick nodded and darted out of the dining room. Sephiel looked at me as he pulled the second body along the marble floor.

“It does not seem fair to leave them inside when we do this,” he panted.

He was right. Yes, these men were Blood Thorns, part of the most ruthless gang in all of Ciudad Juárez, but I didn’t recognize them. They had been hired after I’d left, so I didn’t know if they’d found themselves in the same hopeless situation I had. Lost and scared, running from something they thought would be more dangerous than what they were running to.

It had been a long time since I felt sympathy for a Blood Thorn.

“Yeah,” I agreed, looking around the house. “We’ll leave them in the hallway,” I said, pointing to the corridor behind the kitchen. “They can get out of the basement that way.”

Sephiel nodded and we started dragging the bodies again. A couple minutes later, we left the two men in a heap and hurried back around the corner into the kitchen. The entire room stank of gasoline. I tasted the fumes in the back of my throat and felt them sting my eyes. Warrick finished turning on all the burners on the stove, then grabbed some meat from the fridge and threw it onto the stovetop. He coughed into his sleeve, then turned to look at me. He held out a gas lighter that he’d found in one of the cabinets.

“Care to do the honors?” he asked me.

“Definitely,” I replied. “After we get the fuck out of here.”

Warrick didn’t need to argue with that. The three of us ran back the way we’d come, not caring about subtlety as smoke began to rise from the stove. I stopped at the end of the gas trail, careful not to step in any of it, then took the lighter from Warrick. I hesitated for a moment, hoping that all of the staff was sleeping in the apartment, and that this trick would work. I wondered if Lucifer would find a way to rein Mateo’s anger. I doubted it was possible, since Mateo’s hatred for me was insatiable, but the King of Hell didn’t get his title by being lenient and understanding.

At the same time, I found myself needing this. Burning away a dark part of my life wouldn’t wipe the blood from my hands or save my soul. It wasn’t right, and doing it for revenge wouldn’t make me happier. But it was a part of my life that I wanted to let go. By burning the hacienda to the ground, I could be saving people from a huge mistake. Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference. The Blood Thorns weren’t the only gang in Juárez, merely the worst.

But there would be one person out there who might thank me for this. More than that, I could close this chapter of my life forever. The ghost of my old self still lived in these walls. She needed to be set free before we met again on the other side.

I clicked on the lighter, and pressed it to the petrol soaked carpet. The tiny flame ignited the gasoline with a powerful
whump.
I stepped back to avoid the flames, Warrick gripping my shoulders and pulling me toward the window. He saw me through before climbing out to safety. I stepped back, watching the blaze rise from the carpet to the dining table. It ate up the chairs and devoured the curtains. I watched the wall of fire through the box of the window, knowing the fire was following the trail into the kitchen where everything was set to explode.

Warrick grabbed my hand and dragged me out of range. We ran with Sephiel toward the front lawn where Michael and Max were drawing the note in gasoline. I don’t remember the last time I’d run that fast. I listened to people shouting from the inside of the hacienda and the staff apartment. We had just reached Max and Michael when half of the hacienda exploded.

Even from the distance, I could feel the heat of the massive blaze. My ears rang as the blasting sound echoed through the night, burning debris flying through the air and landing on the ground. All the lights in the apartment were on now. We had to move fast.

“Is it ready?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Max replied, stepping back from the grass and digging the
movens caeli
out of his pocket. “But I don’t know how long the effect will last.”

I spun the lighter and looked at the gasoline drenched grass. “It’ll last long enough for Dro to understand what it means.”

The guys stepped back while I bent down and ignited the gas. I lurched away from the blaze, caught by Warrick who held me close while Max opened the golden cap on the heaven-mover. The world erupted into golden light and white noise, but all I could think of was the burning house and the two words I left for my sister.

OWL CREEK.

Chapter 23

Owl Creek RV Park had been abandoned after the massacre nearly seven years ago. After the formal investigation that took months to discern why nearly three hundred people had been suddenly and mysteriously butchered, park officials had wisely closed the park. The investigation became a cold case, since nothing could account for the mangled corpses, missing limbs, and scorched trees. Superstitious believers had claimed that the massacre was caused by everything from werewolves to aliens to the wrath of God.

The only survivors had been Dro and me, and we had been too busy running to come forward and tell the truth. Even if we had gone to the authorities, who would have listened to two orphans claiming it was monsters from another dimension? That was the fast track to a foster home and ultimately separation.

Not that it mattered, did it? You still lost Dro anyway.

Grief stung my heart, but I pushed it down. This was finally going to end tonight. I looked at the grass, and kicked a clump of dirt. Maybe lying underneath it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.

“How long do you think we have?” Warrick asked.

“Not long,” Max said. His jaw was set in concentration. “They’re just getting the word that something is wrong, but they’re still a couple hours away from the hacienda.”

“Perhaps it is time to make one final battle call,” Michael said. We turned around to look at him. “Every angel wanted to see the end of Lucifer’s reign. Perhaps some of them are still willing to fight for it.”

Michael held out his hand to take the
movens caeli
from Max, then looked at Sephiel. The ex-angel who rebelled against Heaven to protect the daughter of Lucifer, was visibly surprised. He looked at us, as if he wasn’t sure where he was needed more.

“Go on, Seph,” I told him. “Just hurry up.”

Sephiel held my eyes and nodded gratefully. There was a small smile on his face, a way of saying he was thankful.

Don’t thank me unless we live through this.

Sephiel gripped Michael’s arm, then they blinked out into thin air.

“Think they’ll be able to find anybody?” Max asked dubiously.

“Guess it doesn’t hurt to try.” I turned around to face Max. “You’re going to stay hidden, right?”

Max frowned. “Look, I know I’m not Hercules or Captain America or whatever, but I can still fight, Constance. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

“True, but what I need more is for you to be safe. If something happens to me, but Dro lives–”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

I forgot whatever I was going to tell him. That was the kind of sentence I would expect from Warrick, not Max. But he looked as determined as I’d ever seen him.

“You’re the toughest woman I know. If anybody survives, it’s going to be you. Besides, Dro can’t live without you.” His dark, puppy eyes were sad. “I don’t know what she’s going through, but she’ll come back to herself. When she does, she’s going to need you more than she ever needed me.”

I didn’t want to give him a pitying look, but I couldn’t help it.

“Max…”

He waved me off. “It’s okay. You both have something that I can’t match. I get it, and it doesn’t make me upset. Dro needs to be loved, and nobody cares about her as much or the way you do. I love her with my heart and soul, but I can never compare to you. And that’s okay, because she’ll know that she’s always going to be loved by somebody if everyone else is gone.”

I’d seen Max as a friend from the moment he stopped being scared of me. Over the last few months, I started seeing more of a brother. We shared the loss of a father figure and cared about the same girl, if in different ways. Max knew what he was and what he wasn’t, yet he always stayed, even when he was hopelessly out of his depth. I couldn’t have been more grateful to have met him.

I flung out my arms, snared him, and crushed him into a hug. Max sputtered, obviously more shocked than I was. But soon his arms looped around my back and he settled into the embrace.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” I whispered. “I fucking swear it.”

I shouldn’t have been promising anything, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted Max to live. No matter what he said about me, I wasn’t going to be alive at the end. I could think of no one better to protect my little sister when my heart finally stopped beating.

Max and I parted and I gave him a phony smile, slapping him on the shoulder. He grinned nervously, then looked over my shoulder.

“Uh, I’m gonna go… wander, or something.”

I nodded, watching him walk away. He wasn’t gone for more than three seconds before Warrick placed his hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see his worried green eyes.

“He’s right, you know,” he told me. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” His expression turned stony and determined. “I want to kill Drake, but if I have to choose between ending him and saving you, I’m going to save you.”

My heart went to my throat. I’d never been this deep in love before. It wasn’t fair for my soul to ache like this when I knew it wasn’t going to last.

I tried to lie, but with the moonlight illuminating his dark hair, the passionate glow in his laser green eyes, and the feel of his warm, strong hand on me, I couldn’t find the words.

I reached up to grab his neck and pulled him down to kiss me. It was a little desperate, but I didn’t care. This could be the last one. Warrick held me close, kissing me gently and brushing my hair with his fingers to calm me down. It wasn’t working.

My body demanded that I breathe, but I was reluctant to let go. I was so close to him that my lips brushed his when I spoke the words he deserved to hear.

“I love you.”

Warrick wasn’t stupid. He knew I was keeping something from him when I said that. But he must have seen the pleading look in my eyes. I didn’t want to talk about it. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. He nodded briefly, then held my face and kissed me again.

It felt like a kiss goodbye, and that was exactly what I needed.

***

Max was right. It wasn’t even two hours before Lucifer and his demons came for us.

I was sitting on the dead grass between Warrick and Max, holding my boyfriend’s hand, when I smelled the sulfur. I lifted my head and watched the air in front of me rip in half. Fire twisted out of the portal, shadows of monsters and men stepping through.

There were so many of them. Reds, ghouls, Shredders, Wretches, hellhounds, Knights… so many that I lost count. Warrick squeezed my hand, but I wasn’t scared. Knowing I was finally confronting the end brought me a peace I hadn’t expected. Sure, I wasn’t looking forward to the pain coming my way, but at least I would be free of it all one way or another.

The demons didn’t charge us. They were twitching with anticipation, hungry for flesh, but waiting for their master’s permission.

The fire from the portal belched again, and this time it brought out the beings in control. Drake stepped out first, dressed in a dark hunting jacket and dirty jeans, a smile on his face and malice in his eyes. Both Warrick and Max tensed beside me.

Mateo came out of the portal next. He’d donned a black tactical getup, the same as the one he’d worn when he’d worked with me on the streets. His hair was slicked back and he wore the belt with a rose buckle around his waist. His hand in the black fingerless glove curled around the machete at his hip. His eyes went straight to me, ready to burst into madness.

Stepping out at last, hand in hand, were the King and his daughter. Lucifer looked torturously beautiful, wearing a black frock coat that went all the way to his ankles. He wore dress pants and a black suit jacket but no shirt, revealing the chiseled muscles on his pale skin. The huge claymore sword I’d once seen him carry was resting on his back. He looked like a businessman who part-timed as medieval warrior.

Beside him was my little sister, but she looked nothing like the girl I grew up with and protected for almost seventeen years.

An elegant black dress clung to her body, thin silk hanging around her legs with a slit exposing three quarters of her right leg. The wide leather wrapped around her waist matched the black leather of her ankle boots. The top of the dress was sleeveless black lace cut down the front to show the curves of her breasts. Dro’s hair was free of her usual braid, hanging in loose waves down the sides of her torso. Her lips were painted blood red and dark kohl circled her eyes. She looked beautiful, and terrifying.

Dro’s eyes met mine, but offered no expression. No joy or fear or hope or even anger. There was nothing. It saddened me to look at her. So I didn’t.

“You wish to end your battle where it began,” Lucifer’s deep, beautiful voice sang to me.

I slowly got to my feet, Warrick and Max rising with me. I started walking forward, feeling Warrick hold onto my hand until he was forced to let go. I steadily crossed the clearing, trying not to see the salivating demon army or the angry eyes of my enemies.

“Yeah,” I told Lucifer when I came to a stop. “Something like that.”

His obsidian eyes pierced into me as he invaded my mind. I balled my fists and tried to push him out, but he was seeing everything. All of my grief and regrets, the love I had to lose for Warrick, the conviction and understanding that I wasn’t going to survive this. I let him see everything.

Except for Michael and Sephiel.

When Lucifer left my brain, I was dizzy. I blinked to clear my head, then stared at Lucifer again.

“You still refused to heed your sister’s pleas,” he said. “How selfish of you.”

“Yeah, I know.” I looked at Dro. “She’ll understand, though.”

Dro’s lips formed a narrow line, and her ice blue eyes turned stormy.

Okay, well she wasn’t going to understand instantly.

“I do not see the fallen Michael or the disloyal Sephiel,” Lucifer went on. “Where have they gone?”

I shrugged. “Disneyland maybe. Mexico’s usually beautiful this time of year, but you kind of fucked it up, so they needed to go somewhere else.”

Lucifer held out his hand and fired a needle of hellfire at me. I flinched, having nothing to block it and no way to avoid it. The needle stopped inches from my face, so close I thought I was going to breathe it in. I was nervous as hell, but I didn’t back down. The needle split in two and circled around my head, dissolving at my back. He was trying to scare me, but I was done with being afraid of him.

“I know Michael too well to assume he has abandoned his attempts at defiance. As you can see, I am prepared for him. But I promised another combat with you.”

Oh, joy.

Not to anyone’s surprise, Mateo stalked forward. He moved like a bull getting ready to plow into the matador. Warrick must have come up behind me, because Lucifer held up his hand. Wind rushed around me, I whirled my head around and watched him and Max land on the ground ten feet away from me, rolling to catch themselves.

“You will not interfere again.”

That was the only thing Lucifer needed to say.

I gave them a despairing look, then turned around to Mateo. He was in the clearing directly in front of me, beyond furious. I wondered what was stopping him from killing me right now, until he started unbuckling his belt.

I gave him a dry look. “Sorry, buddy. I’m not in the mood.”

Mateo glared, gripping his machete and holster so tightly I thought his knuckles were going to tear through the leather of his gloves.

“I’m going to have your fucking head by the end of the night,” he promised. “But I want you to hurt first. I want you to feel all the pain you caused me.”