“Jessie,” Lukas warned. He was still on the ground but seemed to have gained some control. I could feel it in the air. I was still annoyed but was sure that had more to do with Meredith being, well, Meredith, than Lukas.
“You think you have it all figured out, but you don’t have a clue. Your fate has been arranged for a long, long time.”
“My fate?” I laughed, remembering what Ava had said in the park about destiny. A knot of worry formed in the pit of my stomach, but I ignored it. “Sorry, Girl Interrupted, but I make my own fate.”
Meredith shrugged. “We’ll see about that.”
“You’re playing with fire. If you think you’ll be able to control those Sins once they’re bound to human bodies, you’re in for one hell of a shock. No matter how much power you think you have—”
“Control the Sins? It’s never been about controlling the Sins, you simple little girl. It’s about so much more…” She laughed, snapped her fingers, and disappeared. Her voice lingered in the air. “The countdown begins, Darker girl.”
…
“You doing okay?” Lukas had been quiet since we’d gotten back to the office, and it was making me twitchy. He’d calmed down, but there was still an edge of anger to him that wasn’t fading.
“We should have gone after her,” he growled. “We just let her get away!”
“And how were we supposed to do that?”
He sounded like me. Normally, Mom would be the voice of reason and I’d be the one jabbing to plunge in headfirst. Kick ass and ask questions later—that was my take on things. I didn’t like playing for the other team. “She disappeared into thin air. How do you follow someone who does that?”
He relaxed a bit. “She’s more powerful than before.”
“Well, duh. She’s had time to learn some new tricks.” I pulled my feet up onto the couch, remembering something Kendra said. “Kendra said she used to be a mid-level witch, but in 1882, something changed. I’m guessing that thing was meeting the He she referred to… The one who gave her the spell to fuse Wrath to your soul.”
“If only we knew who he was. Another witch, maybe?”
“Could be,” I said and shrugged. “We could try asking her. Think she’d talk?”
He looked at me like I was crazy.
“Oh, come on. I bet all you have to do is go in and bat your eyes and she’d be a waterfall of intel.”
Lukas rolled his eyes. “Your mind is a truly disturbing place.”
“Why thank you.” I did a little bow. “Side note, though, what she said about the Sins—that really bugs me. Let’s forget for a minute about her twisted little failed happily ever after from 1882. She obviously arranged for the box to be opened, but she says she didn’t do it to gain control over the Sins. Why bother? I mean, what’s the point?”
“Revenge, maybe? Possibly, her plan was to use them to destroy your family for imprisoning her then let them get taken by the box.”
I shook my head. “Granted, her sanity’s rivaled only by garden gnomes, but that seems like a lot of trouble to sic something bad on our tails. There are easier ways to get at us.”
He flushed. “She did insinuate she wanted to mend fences with me.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Don’t get me wrong—you’re about as awesome as a guy could get—but releasing the Seven Deadly Sins just to get her ex back? No way. There’s more to it than that.”
He reached across and took my hand. “I have a bad feeling.”
“I’m not getting the warm fuzzies either. I mean, I agree that she seems to still have a thing for you, but there’s no way I buy that she cracked open that box just to relight an old flame.” I looked at the clock. “Wonder where Mom and Dad are.”
Perfect timing as always, Mom answered by charging through the door, Dad on her heels. I stumbled to my feet as they barreled into the middle of the room. “What—”
The large glass window on the front side of the office exploded inward, followed by a loud crack against the door.
I jumped back and stumbled over the coffee table, taking the magazines Mom kept piled so neatly with me. “What the hell?”
Mom caught me before I went down and grabbed my arm, hauling me across the room as Dad snatched the back of Lukas’ shirt.
Pushing Lukas toward the hall, Dad said, “Move!”
Our footsteps pounded against the hardwood as we sprinted around the corner and up the stairs to the apartment. Twice, I stumbled because Mom still hadn’t let go of my arm. She was taller and had longer legs. Longer legs, wider steps. If she wasn’t careful, I’d end up on my ass at the bottom.
We’d barely reached the top or the stairs when Dad pushed Lukas aside and called out, “Shut the lights!”
I threw myself at the wall and flipped the switch without question. It was evening now, and the light coming through the window at the end of the hall cast lengthwise shadows on the floor. It was all Dad needed. One hand on the large bookshelf, his hulking form dissolved into the darkness, shelves and all.
The end of the shadow stopped just above the top of the stairs. It was the perfect position for Dad to get the bookcase to the edge and shove it over. It tumbled down the stairs, books flying and small bits of wood cracking off as it went. When it reached the bottom, it crashed to a stop, wedging itself between the last few steps and the door.
Just in time, too. Screams split the air as the things—whatever they were—pounded against the door.
“That won’t hold them for long,” Mom said, taking inventory. She had a small gash across her forehead and a set of three similar ones across her right thigh through her jeans. Dad was about the same. Several scrapes across his cheek and down to his chin. A few shreds here and there. Nothing major.
“What are they?” Lukas asked, staring at Dad. He’d never seen him travel before.
Hell, I’d only seen it once or twice in my life and it never failed to impress. Had I really done that? Moved through the darkness like he did? Watching him in action, I was less sure that’s what had really happened.
“And why did you bring them home with you?” I added, making sure the windows were all locked. We’d shut ourselves inside the master bedroom, but the barricade at the bottom of the stairs wouldn’t last long. Pretty soon our company would come a knockin’.
“Lamiae,” Mom said, throwing open the closet door. “Nasty things with a bitch of a bite.”
Tossing boxes aside, she uncovered the trapdoor in the floor. As Mom pounded the right corner, it popped open to reveal her secret stash. You name it, it was in there. Everything from hand grenades to holy water. I had one just like it—only less stocked.
Mom didn’t trust me with explosives. Go figure.
Dad watched the door. “We tracked Kendra through town. Almost had her, too, but we were attacked.”
I grabbed the blade she held out and gave it a quick poke with my thumb. Nice and sharp. Perfect for gutting demonic home invaders. “Lamiae? Don’t they usually snack on kids?”
“These appear to be equal opportunity eaters.” Mom tossed a crossbow to Dad, along with a bundle of arrows.
“What’s a lamiae?” Lukas asked, taking the knife Mom thrust in his face. He was looking at it as though it might start singing show tunes. For the embodiment of rage, the guy was a bit of a pacifist sometimes.
Slamming the closet door closed, Mom jumped to her feet. “Demons. Humans consumed by the grief of losing a child. They made a deal to become this—to feel no more pain. Usually, they feed on small children.”
The office door rattled. Low growls and a strange mewling drifted in from the hall.
“This is the work of that witch,” Dad said. “Lamiae don’t hunt in packs.”
A crash sounded downstairs. More were coming in.
“She’s beginning to get on my nerves.” Mom stepped back, pulling me with her as the bedroom door exploded inward and hell broke loose.
They were hideous. I’d never seen one up close and personal before—and would have been happy to keep it that way. Standing about six feet tall and slightly hunched, they were pale with black splotches all over in varied sizes.
The one at the front was completely bald and dressed in rags that might have once been a business suit, with sunken black eyes and a row of razor-sharp black teeth. The others were pretty much the same. Identical, vacant black eyes and deadly teeth. Some had small patches of long, wispy white hairs dotting their skulls, while others had full heads of hair.
“Whatever you do, don’t let them bite you. Their venom isn’t deadly, but it will paralyze you.” Dad swung at the first lamiae through the door. It howled in rage—a gravelly sound that echoed through the room—and lunged forward, knocking him to the side like he was made of feathers.
With my back to Mom’s and Lukas by my side, I started swinging.
The first wave came at us fast and hard. Mom took two down right off the bat, slicing into them with the machete I’d given her for Christmas two years ago. Headless, the lamiae dropped to the floor, twitching and silent.
Close to the door, Dad took out three of his own. He’d dropped the crossbow, choosing to rely on more natural weapons. Blending in and out of the shadows, he tore through the room armed with nothing but his bare hands and a wicked smile. The lamiae never stood a chance.
Lukas wasn’t doing badly for a first timer. He’d apparently gotten over the knife and had already grounded one of the lamiae and was wrestling a second to the ground. For a brief moment, I panicked when it looked like the creature might have gotten the upper hand. Chomping black teeth dripping with green, tar-like fluid, and a purple forked tongue seemed intent on taking a huge chunk out of his face. But Lukas, always surprising me, tamped it down and hacked through the thing’s neck. A quick glance my way and a smile. A smile. He was enjoying himself. God. He was frigging perfect.
The thrill of the fight and the surge of adrenaline was the kind of thing I lived for. Nothing made me feel more alive than facing off against some big bad and cutting it down to size.
One by one, we took them down. Twenty minutes later, we stood in the wreckage of the room, all covered in viscous, black blood, smelling like mold, and gasping for air. Ruined bodies spread out before us, things were finally silent.
“I haven’t had a workout like that in some time,” Dad said, wiping a hand across his jeans. It left a trail of black slime. His eyes met Mom’s, and suddenly I could see why there’d never been anyone else in her life. Why there’d never be anyone else. She and Dad were two of a kind. A pair of deadly peas in a pod. He crossed the room and swept her into his arms.
“Reminds me of our first date,” he laughed softly.
Mom’s reply was a soft chuckle and a quick peck on the lips.
Their first date? They went mashing on their first date? Seriously. Now I was way jealous.
I flicked a glob of slime from my own hand and reached under the bed to pull out the first aid kit. Nothing devastating. A couple gashes, a crap-ton of bruises, and I was betting quite a few strained muscles judging by the way Mom was moving, but all in all, pretty clean. No broken bones and no sliced arteries. Any fight you could walk away from was a win. Any fight you could walk away from without needing a transfusion or a cast? Epic win.
Silence set in as we went to work, checking each other over and taking stock. The bedroom door was in two large pieces out in the hall, and we’d never get the lamiae bloodstains off the floor. Time to carpet the apartment. Why was it that all demon bodily fluid stained?
Lukas and I sat on the floor, leaning against Mom’s ruined dresser as I cleaned a sizeable slash on his forearm. Dad was over by the closet stitching up Mom’s shoulder while she bandaged her own wrist. Battlefield triage had nothing on us.
Unfortunately, the silence didn’t last long. From the first floor, something loud shattered. More glass.
“What was that?” Lukas was on his feet and in the doorway before I could stop him.
Seconds later, he got his answer as another wave of lamiae swarmed the stairs. He scrambled back into the room as the window behind us shattered.
Bottlenecking the doorway and crashing through the windows like ants to a picnic, the lamiae were everywhere. Three times as many as before. We held them off for a few minutes, but even with one and a half demons, the incarnation of rage, and the queen of kick-ass, we never stood a chance.
It all happened so fast. One minute, we were licking our wounds, the next we were drowning in carnage. They swarmed Lukas, two hitting him from behind and knocking him to the floor. I launched forward to help, blindly shoving through the crowd, but one of the lamiae grabbed me. I jammed my elbow back and heard the bone-crunching crack as it connected with the thing’s head. It howled in pain and made another attempt, but I whirled around, wedging my sneaker hard into its gut. It careened backwards, colliding with the two advancing on Mom, and knocking them all to the ground like icky bowling pins toppling for the perfect strike. When I turned back, Lukas had managed to wrestle himself out from under the first two, but there were too many. I watched helplessly as more came, one baring its teeth and piercing the skin at the hollow of his neck. He screamed, eyes rolling back as they dragged him back to the ground and I swallowed back a cry as he disappeared beneath them.
Dad was next. Three of them piled on top of him, teeth piercing the flesh of his legs and forearm in multiple spots. Demons were tougher than humans. It took a little more effort, but with a few extra chomps, the venom did its trick and Dad crumbled to the floor just like Lukas.
“Stay close!” Mom yelled above the chaos. I heard her, but barely. The only other sound I could hear was the whooshing noise her machete made as it sliced through the air—and lamiae flesh.
We kept them off for a few minutes, but there were just too many. Even for us. Stuck in a small space with limited resources and two soldiers down for the count, this wasn’t going to end well.
Something hit me from behind. A sharp knock between my neck and right shoulder blade. Vision swam and a chill raced up my spine as the ground kind of wobbled, taking me down. A second later, there was a sharp stinging in my left shoulder. Mom screamed, and when I tried to turn around, the world went dark.