Personal Demons (34 page)

And it’s then that I notice he’s on fire. Hotter than he’s been in a long time. My breath catches. “Hold up,” I say, grabbing his hand just before it reaches its target. “I don’t know where this is coming from. You’ve been telling me for weeks that we can’t go there. I need to think.” But it’s really hard to think when he’s offering me what I want more than anything.

For just an instant I swear I see rage darken his face before it smoothes into a perfect calm. “What’s there to think about? I’m tired of waiting, Frannie. I want you so much I can’t stand it anymore. I promise I’ll make it amazing for you. The things I’ll do to you . . .” The rest is lost as his hot tongue slips into my ear.

I can’t focus, thinking about the things I want him to do to me, but what he said before still echoes in my head.
We can’t do this until I know it’s safe for you
. I take a deep breath and work to connect my last rational brain cell to my mouth. “What’s changed, Luc?”

“Me. It’s safe, I know it is. I’m human now. They can’t get to us.”

I want so badly to believe him, but that brain cell is fighting to be heard. I push his hand away from where it’s working the button of my jeans. “That doesn’t make any sense. You said we were in more danger now ’cause you couldn’t see them coming.” And all of a sudden I smell it again, rotten eggs.
Oh God—brimstone. Belias?

Luc’s eyes flare red, lighting up the dark car. “Come on, baby. You’re killing me,” he says. I feel like gravity just doubled and all the oxygen has been sucked off planet Earth. Luc would
never
call me baby.

Holy shit!
Belias. Think!

I hear Gabe’s voice in my head:
If you ever need anything, you know where to come.
And even though I know it’s probably a bad sign that I have so many voices in my head that aren’t mine, for the moment, I’m okay with it.

“I know where we can go,” I say, hooking my bra and trying not to panic. “We’re house-sitting for a friend, just around the corner. The house is empty. We’ll be all alone.” My voice shakes, and my heart’s trying to commit suicide by throwing itself relentlessly against my rib cage.

“Now we’re talking. Where to?” he asks, starting up the Shelby.

“Take a left here.”

I take him on a loop around the neighborhood, past Taylor’s and back past my house, pretending to be lost, before I make up my mind what to do. Then, as we drive by the house with the huge potted Christmas cactus and porch swing I say, “Here,” pointing to Gabe’s house.

“Finally. I was starting to think you were just being a tease.”

This guy is majorly pissing me off. “Just pull into the driveway.”

He pulls in and I’m wondering if I did the right thing. Am I putting Gabe in danger? Will he know this isn’t really Luc? And my biggest question, the one that’s been eating me alive—if this is Belias, where
is
Luc? The vision of his bloody body crumpled on the floor taunts me, and I swallow back my terror along with the bile rising in the back of my throat.

As I step out of the car, my panic slips into despair. The house is dark. What if Gabe’s not here?

Luc-a-like is around the car, grabbing me, and we start heading for the front door. It’s only then that I realize I don’t have a key, and I can’t exactly knock, since the house is supposed to be empty . . .

“I think the front door might be unlocked,” I say, hoping I’m right.

When we get to the door, I see I’m more than right. The door is actually swinging open, exposing the darkness within.

“Remind me never to have you house-sit,” Luc-a-like snorts.

“Yeah . . . well . . .” My mind is racing. Maybe Gabe has something gold or silver that I can use.

He pushes me through the door and closes it behind us. It’s
pitch black, and he’s all over me—hands everywhere. As I look desperately around in the dark, I don’t need to see it to remember that everything is white. No gold, no silver. No nothing.

“Let’s find a bed,” Luc-a-like rasps in my ear.

“Um . . . maybe upstairs,” I say loud enough that if anyone is here they’ll hear me.

He pulls me toward the stairs, lit only by a thin silver slant of moonlight crossing the family room from the window and trailing up the lower few. But as we reach the banister Luc-a-like freezes in his tracks and looks around warily.

“Whose house did you say this was?”

“Just a friend’s.”

He looks at me with a grimace, and, as I watch in the pale moonlight, he morphs into—something. In just a few seconds, he’s towering over me, the heat burning my scalp where he’s grabbed a handful of my hair. The stench of singeing hair and rotten eggs is unbearable, making my eyes water.

Reflexively, I drop into a crouch and swing a leg high into his chest, but he’s suspending me by my hair, so my balance is off and I don’t get any leverage behind the kick. Still, the crunch of his bones under my foot is unmistakable.

I think the thing is chuckling—not the reaction I was hoping for—except it sounds choked and dry, almost like coughing.

“Oooh . . . fire!” he rasps. “I like that.” Then he drags me a step back from the stairs. “Very clever, mortal. But, see, we demons have a sixth sense.” He turns and hisses loudly, “You’re too late, Gabriel.”

I regroup and take another swing, this time at the arm holding
me suspended. But I barely connect. He leers down at me, shaking me by the hair. “This was charming before, but now it’s becoming annoying. Stop.”

Just as my heart sinks, Gabe’s symphonic voice comes from everywhere all at once—surround sound deluxe, “You’ll want to let her go, Beherit.”

And then he’s there, at the top of the stairs, except I can’t see him. All I see is a vague shape from which intense white light is emanating. His glow illuminates the whole room, including the monster holding me captive. I look up at its hideous face and hear myself groan as all the blood in my body runs instantly cold. It’s not Belias. This one is bigger and nastier-looking, if that’s possible, and smells much worse—as if breathing wasn’t already hard enough through my panicked gasps.

“Gabriel, you’ve always had a wonderfully droll sense of humor. Why would I let my prize go?”

“Because she’s not your prize. You don’t have any claim to her. Her soul is clean.”

“Hmm . . . yes, Lucifer didn’t give me much to work with, did he? He found this assignment . . . challenging.” He scowls down at me and chuckle-coughs again. “Falling in love.
Love!
” He lets out a sharp bark of a laugh. “How quaint is that!”

“Yes, it was a completely transforming, life-altering event. You’ve heard the saying, love conquers all?”

“Well, in the end, it hasn’t conquered anything, has it? He’s dead and I’m holding the prize.”

“Dead is all relative, don’t you think?”

My heart soars at the sound of Luc’s voice. But as I pivot toward the kitchen, like a Christmas tree ornament dangling from
a string, my heart sinks. Luc is covered in blood, his T-shirt in tatters and several deep gashes across his chest, shoulders, and right cheek.

“Oh my God,” I gasp.

“Your God can’t save either of you,” the monster rasps and chuckles. He lifts me up to his eye level by my hair and it feels like my head is ripping off my body. “You belong to the other team now.”

“You seriously want to rethink that, Beherit,” Luc says, stepping through the kitchen door into the family room.

Beherit laughs—a thunderous bellow that shakes the entire house. “You’re making threats? You—a half-dead mortal with no leverage?” he snarls, lowering my feet back to the floor, where I continue to dangle like a marionette. “I’ll deal with you when I’m finished with your little pet.” He shakes me by my hair.

“Oh, I’ve got leverage. And it’s ironic that you should mention pets . . .” Luc’s smile makes my heart sputter, and I feel my arm reach out to him. His eyes bore through mine, and in the door behind him, I see five pairs of huge, glowing red eyes staring back at me from the dark of the kitchen. Luc steps sideways at the same instant he snaps his fingers, and three ginormous black dogs, one with three heads, explode from the kitchen door, teeth bared, and are on me in a heartbeat.

Except, they’re not on
me
, they’re on
him
—the thing holding me. And Luc is there too. He has my hand and he’s yelling something at me. With the noise of the dogs and my confusion, I don’t get it right away, but then I understand. He’s saying, “Use it, Frannie!”

My Sway. What do I do? I don’t even know what it is or how it works.

“Let me go.” It comes out as a strangled croak and nothing happens. I try again. “You don’t want me! Let me go!” I say louder.

I feel his grip loosen on my hair as he bats at the snapping dogs with his other hand. Luc is pulling my arm. Dogs are everywhere, snapping and snarling.

“You don’t want me!” I scream. I yank myself away from Beherit, leaving behind a large handful of singed hair, and Luc pulls me across the room. One of the dogs follows me, and I crouch, ready to unleash a kick, but Luc pulls me back just before my foot connects with its shoulder.

“You really don’t want to piss Barghest off. Especially after he’s just saved our sorry asses.”

“Barghest?”

“An old friend of mine. I was on what you might call canine patrol for a long time—guarding the Gates of Hell. Barghest and I were pretty tight for nearly a millennium, though it took him a little longer than I would have hoped to recognize me in all my humanity,” he gestures to the bleeding claw marks across his chest.

Barghest tips his head to the side as he whimpers, then he turns and sits, his back to us, and growls at the foray at the bottom of the stairs. I can’t watch as the dogs rip at Beherit, so I turn back to Luc and try to find a spot I can touch him.

“Why didn’t they attack me too?” I ask, nestling into his right side.

“I told them not to.” He grins again. “And my talisman—your red bra—came in handy for scent. Now it’s Barghest’s job to protect you.”

I let go of Luc and turn to look at the dog sitting in front of me, his shoulders at the same height as mine. “Protect me from what?”

Luc’s face darkens for just a moment. “Hell,” he says, “and everything in it.”

I start to tuck back into his side when I feel something brush through my wild hair. Luc suddenly pulls back and doubles over. “
Ahhh.
”

“Luc? What’s wrong?”

He groans and looks up at Beherit, his face contorted in pain and his eyes glowing red. Then I see the glint of the handle of a dagger sticking out of his shoulder. As Luc pulls it out, I understand. Gold. Luc’s weakness.

Heart pounding out of my chest, adrenaline on overload, I turn to Beherit and see Gabe advancing down the stairs, enveloping him in white light. It’s almost like looking into a cloud during an electrical storm. Little flickers of lightning flash in the white light. The hair on my body stands on end, and the smell of ozone is thick in the air. And when the lightning bolt shoots out of Gabe’s palm and hits Beherit, I scream.

Beherit’s face twists in agony, and his groans roll through the house as the dogs continue to attack. But his focus is on Luc and me, and, under the pain, there’s a triumphant sneer.

As I stare, frozen with fear and rage, another golden dagger materializes in Beherit’s hand. That shocks me out of my stupor.

“Stop!” I yell. “Leave him alone. He doesn’t matter to you anymore.” I step forward, between him and Luc. “I’ll come with you if you leave him alone.”

As Beherit roars in victory, Luc grabs my hand, still doubled over. He’s shaking his head, his eyes wide and bulging as he bites back an agonized moan. Curls of black smoke issue from the bleeding knife wound in his left shoulder. “No. Use your Sway.”

I can’t think. I choke back a sob and turn to Beherit. “Stop!” I yell again, and Barghest growls as I pull loose from Luc and take another step forward. “Leave Luc alone! I’ll come with you. Just leave Luc alone! Please!”

My heart’s throbbing as I move slowly across the floor toward the stairs. My shirt rips where Barghest tries to get a mouthful of it, but I keep walking. Gabe’s white light flashes brighter in a warning that I ignore as I step within reach of Beherit.

Beherit raises his head and roars again. At the same instant I feel talons pierce the flesh of my shoulder, I crouch and lunge for his other clawed hand, where he’s still holding the golden dagger. I grab the dagger, swing around, still in a crouch, and leap up, pushing it hard into his chest. “Go to Hell!” I scream.

But it’s drowned out by his scream, high and long, a sound I can’t imagine doesn’t rupture my eardrums. As I hit the ground, I close my eyes and hold my breath, not knowing what the sensation will be when he kills me.

As Beherit’s scream dies away, intense heat sears through me. But instead of agony I feel serenity settle over me. Maybe death, even at the hand of the devil, isn’t so bad after all.

But then I realize the heat is coming from behind me, and I
open my eyes to find Barghest between me and Beherit, tearing at Beherit’s arm. When I turn, Luc’s there, and it’s not just his eyes—his whole body is glowing red. It’s
his
heat I feel coursing through me as he wraps me in a protective field.

Gabe’s light flashes again, nearly blinding me. Beherit shrieks, and, through the glare, I see thick black ichor oozing from where the dagger pierced his chest as tendrils of thick, oily smoke enfold his upper body in a cloud. What feels like a sonic boom knocks me back a step, and when Gabe’s light fades, all that remains where Beherit was is a bellow of hissing black smoke and the stench of burnt meat and brimstone. He and the dogs are gone.

Gabe rushes down the stairs, his glow fading as he comes, and now I can see the expression on his face. Anguish.

“Gabe?” He runs past me, and I feel black dread squeeze my heart just as I hear a thud behind me. I turn back to see the image that I’ve been unable to shake since I awoke with it in my head: Luc lying crumpled on the floor, corpse-white under smeared crimson blood.