Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) (40 page)

At the center of the Punchbowl, a wall of flame erupted from the cracks in the ground, and a host of red demons pushed and warped the thin veil that separated their dimension from Earth’s.

Trumpets blared from above as pounding drums boomed from below.

“Guess that was ‘legions’ in the literal sense,” Tomahawk commented.

Rook tore his eyes away from the impending battle. Now was not the time to get starstruck. “Tommi, you and Fanny stay here and monitor the situation for any late-comers. I’d rather not be surprised.”

Beauty frowned. “What could be more shocking than this?”

“With my luck today, do you really want to ask?”

Clearly she didn’t, as she helped Angela get Chad to his feet. “Where are we taking him?” Beauty asked.

Rook stopped them, though, and turned to Tomahawk. “Quick! Take a picture of the seal.”

Tomahawk pulled out his phone and snapped several shots. Rook pointed to the new symbols flashing on Chad’s chest. “While you’re waiting here with Fanny, try to figure out what those symbols indicate.”

Tomahawk nodded, and Rook turned to head down the trail when Fanny jumped up and into his arms. She hugged him tightly. “Come back, okay?”

He nearly lost his nerve as he hugged her back. Damn it, this was not the time to get emotional. “I’ll try my best.”

Fanny wiped a tear from her eye. “ ’Cuz I really, really, really want a S’more.”

Rook chuckled and kissed her forehead as he set her down. “Me, too.”

Before things could get any more teary-eyed, Rook headed down the trail. The earth was no longer being jerked in fits and starts. Now it was simply rolling underfoot, never stopping its lurching motion. Quickly, he guided Beauty, Angela, and Chad to another small outcropping of rocks.

He instructed Beauty to set Chad down. “You two camp out here, but be ready to move on my mark.”

Beauty cocked an eyebrow. “Gonna share your plan yet?”

“Nope.”

Rook tried to urge Angela down the last bit of the trail to the valley floor, but she balked.

“I’m not going anywhere else until I know what my role is.”

“I thought Tomahawk warned you against asking questions when you weren’t ready for the answers?”

Angela cradled her belly as her lips trembled. But he gave her no sympathy.

How could he? Sympathy had ceased to exist about ten miles ago.

Now? Rook could only offer her harsh reality.

* * *

Angela’s belly churned. It felt like her insides intentionally convoluted themselves, nearly doubling her over. Was it the stress, or a reaction to her unnatural pregnancy? No matter the cause, she didn’t shy away from Rook’s gaze.

She knew that she probably didn’t want to know the answer, but she had to know the answer.

“Tell me.”

Rook shrugged. “You’re my insurance policy. With you and their precious bundle of joy, they will be less likely to strike directly at me.”

Angela ground her teeth, not wanting to sound as bitter as she felt. “Kind of like hiding behind a child hostage?”

“Exactly.”

Was there any depth that Rook would not sink to? Did he have any kind of moral compass, or did he spin wildly whichever way the wind was blowing?

Before she could retort, a sharp tremor hit the ground beneath them. Jolted, everyone was knocked from their feet. Angela went to rise, but her belly flared. It felt as if someone were wringing out her insides.

She hadn’t felt like this since… since last month.

Quickly, she calculated the days in her head. Twenty-eight days, to be exact.

She wasn’t pregnant. She was…

* * *

Beauty braced herself against a boulder as her world tilted to the right, and then to the left. When she said she wanted her world rocked, it certainly was not like this. And for every tremor, every jolt, the translucent barrier between heaven and hell became all the thinner.

Finally, she was able to get to her feet. Another pair of heels ruined.

Rook propped Chad up, but Angela was doubled over, sitting on a jutting rock. Beauty made her way over, having to steady herself each step of the way. Thunder rumbled low and threatening, like a jaguar that growled before the fatal pounce.

“Hon, what happened? Are you all right?” Beauty asked, checking for injuries.

“No. Yes,” Angela said. “I think… I think it is my time of the month.”

“Darlin’, it is all our time.”

Angela’s hand latched onto Beauty’s arm. “No. I mean, Aunt Flo is visiting.”

Beauty still did not understand what the woman was talking about. “Hon, house-guests could wait.”

“I have a visitor,” Angela stressed.

Immediately, Beauty checked the woman’s pupils. They seemed fine. “There’s no external signs of demon possession and—”

“I have my period,” Angela stated bluntly.

“Ohhh,” Beauty drawled. That was the only aspect of womanhood she had yet to experience. Thank goodness. “Are you sure it isn’t a miscarriage?”

But Angela shook her head firmly. “It feels like the same old garden-variety cramps.”

Beauty wasn’t sure if she should be elated or crushed.

Rook called over from where Chad was. “Hello? People, I’ve got an Apocalypse to stop.”

“This may complicate your ‘plan’ a tad,” Beauty replied.

Letting Chad slump over, Rook was by their side in an instant. “Is Angela injured?”

“No, it’s just that I am bleeding,” Angela explained.

Rook’s face clouded with confusion. “But you said you weren’t hurt.”

Angela seemed even more uncomfortable talking about this with Rook than she had with Beauty.

It was time for Beauty to step in. “Angela is menstruating.”

Rook stood perfectly still. His only movement was three eye blinks as he took in the information. “So she was never pregnant?”

“I don’t think so,” Beauty admitted.

Rook stomped to the edge of the ledge. “Great. Just f—ing great.” He stomped back, pacing between Angela and Chad. “This whole thing has been a damn ruse. A trap.”

Okay, so it turned out that Beauty should be crushed by the news. Rook’s plan had been tentative at best. Now, though? What did they have that could possibly stop the war about to burst into their dimension?

“What are we going to do?” Angela asked.

Abruptly, Rook came to a halt. A grim smile crossed his face. A smile Beauty had come to know and not really like because it usually foreshadowed doom.

“We are going to use this to our advantage,” he stated.

“How, exactly?” Beauty asked tentatively.

But Rook held none of her trepidation. As a matter of fact, he seemed energized by the new challenge. “As far as getting screwed, this wasn’t too bad.”

He knelt and ripped a sleeve off of Chad’s shirt and handed it to Angela. “Soak it in your blood.”

“What?” Angela asked, as she recoiled in horror next to Beauty. “I am not going to—”

Beauty went to comfort her. Yes, it was a wildly inappropriate request, but Rook must have his reasons. Right? One didn’t ask for a woman’s menstrual blood without a specific purpose.

Then, as the reason dawned on Beauty, she too stepped back in horror, realizing Rook’s next move.

“No, Rook. You can’t possibly be thinking what I think you are.”

He just shrugged. “What? The Cataclysmic Incantation was written for just this purpose.” Rook put the sleeve in Angela’s hand. “Now get going.”

Angela seemed too stunned to fight and went behind a large boulder to fulfill his request, which gave Beauty time to talk Rook out of his ridiculous plan.

“The Incantation was written by a madman over six hundred years ago, and—”

“Who prophesied this day coming?”

Oh, if he thought he could back her off so easily, Rook had another thing coming. “And he wrote it while raving at the moon from his dungeon as rats chewed out his eyes! He was not a stable cookie.” Rook seemed wholly unimpressed by her passionate speech. “Rook, please,” she pleaded. “You can’t be serious.”

Horizontal lightning danced in the air above the nexus, illuminating Rook’s face. His blue eyes took on the color of steel—hard and resolved. Rook was in fact extremely serious.

Beauty still wanted to argue, but Angela came back from behind the boulder. Thank goodness she had used the belt to her hospital robe to wrap the unseemly package. Angela handed it over to Rook.

“Do you still need me to go out there?” Angela asked, but Rook shook his head.

“They will smell the blood on you,” he responded. “I need you to head back to Tomahawk and Fanny,” Rook instructed Angela. “Warn them of what I plan to do. Tommi needs to get Fanny as far away from here as possible, and she needs to put up as many mental blocks as she can. Once the two forces are engaged, her mind could get trapped between them.”

Rook turned to Beauty. “You stay here and get Chad revved up. I’ll let you know when to let him rip.”

Then he was gone, hustling down the trail that lead to the valley floor. To the nexus—where he would be one man standing against the full forces of good and evil.

Good thing he had the ego for it.

Angela turned to Beauty. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Honey,” Beauty said, kneeling next to Chad and trying to wake him up from his Valium-induced slumber, “if this battle doesn’t kill us, Rook’s trick certainly will.”

CHAPTER 9

Rook

The ruddy ground beneath his feet pulsed as the sky above shone pure white. The air thrummed with the threat of battle as Rook made his way to the exact center of the valley.

The nexus wasn’t hard to miss, given the light show.

Settling into the spot, Rook looked down to find a familiar face pushing against the barrier, distorting it in his own mangy image.

“Practicing your moves, Dimitri?” Rook asked the ghost he had damned to hell.

“You are mine,” Dimitri threatened.

Rook sneered. “Do you want to bet on that?”

The face receded. Guess Dimitri wasn’t feeling all that lucky.

Pulling out the banana and oil, Rook prepared for the incantation. He poured the oil in a circle around him, but put the banana back in his pocket. He might still need it.

Once the circle of oil was complete, Rook breathed in deeply.

Brimstone and the scent of lilies filled his lungs.

Once he began, there would be no turning back. He would be trapped within the magic of incantation. In all likelihood, this was a one-way trip. But at the least, Angela was out of harm’s way, and with any luck, the rest of his friends too. Well, Chad would probably be toast, but the rest should be able to get out before the real fireworks began.

There was no point in delaying any further.

Rook snapped his fingers, igniting the oil and forming a protective circle.

Then, he opened the bundle Angela had given him and began the chant.

“Blood of a woman. Blood of a man.”

Rook felt along his belt for his knife, but came up empty. The ground trembled beneath his feet as the air crackled with energy.

“Fine,” he said as he put his finger to his mouth and bit down. His warm, salty blood hit his tongue. He let drop after drop of his blood fall onto the sleeve coated in Angela’s blood, flaring the fabric a bright blue until, finally, a flickering flame ignited.

He really needed to find a profession that didn’t require self-mutilation.

Once the entire cloth was afire, Rook raised it over his head.

“Power and Pride. Rage and Revenge, I call thee to me!”

As the madman predicted so many centuries ago, light swirled around him, tugging heaven and hell toward Rook without damaging the barrier between them.

Oh, yeah. That’s how you do it.

But the effect slowed until it plateaued, leaving the sides a good ten yards apart. This would not do. They needed to be touching for him to seal the realms.

Worse, each side must have realized Rook’s plan as they redoubled their efforts to cross the barrier before he could complete the incantation.

“Beauty, help me out here. Why isn’t the spell reaching completion?”

* * *

How was she supposed to know? But Beauty let poor Chad slip back into unconsciousness as she reached in her purse, grabbing her phone. Quickly, she scrolled down to the “Cs.”

“Cajun gumbo,” she mumbled. “No, but that was a great recipe.”

She scrolled down to where “Cataclysmic” should have been, but it wasn’t there. Crap. It must have been under Incantations. In the future, she would list everything in both places.

Beauty dragged her finger quickly down to the “Is,” and read from her notes. “The spell must be invoked with abject fear.” She yelled against the Armageddon warm-up show. “You must be totally and mind-numbingly afraid.”

Down at the nexus, Rook frowned. “I think I’m pretty freaking afraid.”

As thunder echoed off the walls of the canyon and Chad’s symbols began sparking a menacing red, Beauty shouted back, “Well, obviously not enough!” Then she muttered, “He should’ve let me invoke the damn spell.”

* * *

“I should’ve let Beauty do the damn incantation,” Rook mumbled as he tried to dig deep for some abject fear. But when your day job involves beheading Medusas and duking it out with possessed wolverines, the clash between good and evil just didn’t really move him to terror.

He had to try, though. It would be downright stupid if they all died and the earth became a barren wasteland because he just wasn’t scared enough. Rook tried to shake off his confidence. This spell really might not work.

“I’m terrified!” he shouted to the wind, but the two forces came no closer together. Rook tried to be startled by the demons underfoot. “Horrified, I tell ya! Downright petrified!”

The incantation was unimpressed, though.

“Rook! Look out!” Beauty screamed.

Rook turned as Sheli, on wing and looking ready for revenge, dove toward him. He felt his gut tighten and his jaw clench. So that was what real fear felt like. Clearly, it was, as the light whirling around him brightened and heaven and hell inched closer and closer together.

“You really shouldn’t have scared me like that,” Rook commented.

Sheli slammed into Rook, knocking him to the ground. She sprang up raising a knife, his knife, high above her head. Rook rolled just in time as it arced in the air and gained his feet. Sheli sliced and cut at Rook, who barely stayed an inch ahead of the blade. Her Goth clothes were a tattered mess and stained with blood, which wouldn’t have been so bad except for the glint of murder in her eye.