Angelbound (46 page)

Squinting, I see Adair standing beside the lifeless hulk of a Manus demon. The creature lays face-down on the Arena floor, its body a mound of bloody wounds and matted black fur.

As I watch Adair scream and flail, my mouth scrunches onto one side of my face. This is what you call a ‘classic moral dilemma.’ On the one hand, I have Walker, clearly injured and struggling to open a portal so he can save himself, me, and the man that I love. On the other hand, I have Adair, who walked into this situation like a dumbass and arguably deserves to die. On top of everything, I’m part demon. Nobody
really
expects me to do the right thing here. I could grab Lincoln, shove us both through the portal, and easily talk my way out of it later.
Uh-oh, I totally panicked. My bad!
Inside my soul, my wrath demon growls, encouraging a fast exit.

A fast exit? Not a bad thought, really.

Once again, Adair screams like her head will explode and, damn it, I feel sorry for her lame ass. Nitwit or not, she doesn’t deserve to die alone on the Arena floor.

Crap, I’m about to do the right thing again, just like I did for her father at the
Winter tournament. Hopefully I won’t live to regret it.

I motion to Walker. “Close the portal. We have to get Adair.” Walker nods, the black door disappears. He stands still for a moment, grips his belly tighter and then crumples onto the Arena floor.

Hells Bells.

I kneel at Walker’s side. “Are you alright?” My hands anxiously flutter near the general area of his belly. Playing nursemaid isn’t exactly my strong suit.

Walker speaks through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine. The Crini demon caused some–” he winces “–internal damage. I have the gift of self-healing from my grandmother. I just need a little time.” His face looks milky-pale.

Archangels have list of powers a mile long, their offspring usually inherit only one or two of them. I let out a long breath. If Walker can self-heal, he’ll be fine. I only wish Lincoln or I had that ability too.

I give Walker’s hand an awkward pat. “Take as long as you need.”

The Prince taps my shoulder; I rise to my feet. “What’s up?”

He points across the Arena floor. “Tinea demon.” A muscle twitches along his upper lip. “And it’s heading straight for Adair.”

“Of course, it is.” My heart sinks. The Tinea’s a humanoid worm about five feet tall with a sinewy body, greasy brown skin, and a great gaping hole of a mouth. Its head is an eyeless lump covered with fine, hair-like quills. Diamond-sharp claws shaped like rotors spin at the end of its rope-like arms and legs.

This thing is so badass, it isn’t even funny. And I’ve never even
heard
of someone killing one. Knots of tension crawl up my legs and back. We are so
screwed.

Tineas are the demon of choice if you want someone kidnapped or dead. Once they lock on your voice and gait, they never give up. Armageddon must have sent this one after Adair. I inspect the stadium floor, looking for the old Scala. There’s no sign of him or his ghoul carriers. They probably high-tailed it out at the first sign of trouble and forgot all about the Scala Heir.

Well, Armageddon didn’t forget.

“I’ll stall the demon.” Lincoln reignites his baculum. “Make sure she doesn’t move or make any noise.” I nod. Tineas hunt by touch and sound. If Adair stays quiet and still, it won’t find her.

I bump fists with Lincoln and race off toward Adair. As I speed along, my gaze falls on the Arena’s upper levels. An icy jolt of fear runs through me. The top lip of the Arena is covered with demons as they crawl, fly, and demolish their way out of the stadium.

They’re off to overrun Purgatory.

Nausea overtakes me. Anyone I’ve ever known—students, teachers, and even the old mechanic who tries to fix Betsy—could be murdered today.

I shake my head from side to side. No time to think about that now.

Scanning the grounds around me, I find the Arena floor has mostly cleared out, only a half-dozen quasis and demons still battle it out nearby. A handful of Walker’s Aquilinea brothers and sisters roam the grounds, opening portals for any angels that remain. Too many white-robed bodies lay lifeless on the stone seats. My throat tightens with grief.

I shift my gaze upwards. The skies are now clear; I can only hope Verus escaped while I was fighting the Crinis. I cross my fingers.
Please, let her live.

Off in the stands, Armageddon sits still and tall in his dark throne. He licks his thin lips and catalogs the stadium. The seats are smashed, the archways shattered, and bodies of all kinds lay everywhere. His gaze lingers on the Tinea and he smiles. “Phase one is well in hand. Follow me.” He and his entourage scale out of the Arena.

The tension in my back loosens a bit. At least that’s one less thing to worry about.

Adair’s only a few yards away now, looking willowy and bored in her white robes as she stomps about the stadium floor. I raise my arm. “Hey! Adair!”

Her tiny eyes glare at me over a pug nose. “Who are you?”

I stop before her and peel off my mask. “I’m Myla Lewis.”

“Oh yeah, you’re the one who stripped at the ball.” She sneers. “Cunnus girl.”

Normally, I’d knock her block off at this point. Instead, I take a deep breath and ball my hands into fists. “Look, Adair. You’re in serious danger. There’s a demon after you.”

She giggles. “No, there’s not.” A Crini lurches past us on its way out of the stadium. “Watch this.” She taps a tentacle with her finger. “Hello!”

The Crini examines me and Adair, its red eyes flaring demon-bright. The monster creeps closer, its long tentacles raised high. I move into battle stance, my tail arching over my shoulder.

Across the stadium floor, the Tinea fights Lincoln, its diamond claws sparring
with the Prince’s baculum sword. Angling its head-lump toward the Crini, the Tinea lets out a series of angry chirps. I don’t speak Tinea, but I’m guessing it’s something like ‘back off buddy, I got her.’ The Crini pauses, shivers, and slinks away.

Adair grins. “See, what I mean? They won’t touch the Scala Heir, although this thing–” she kicks the dead Manus demon “–almost crushed me when it fell over.”

“The other demons avoid you because Armageddon sent the Tinea.” I’m careful to whisper every word. “As long as you stand totally still and keep your voice down, the Tinea can’t track you. So stay quiet and don’t move, okay?”

“Sure, whatever.” Adair glances around the stadium floor, her body language screaming ‘she’s not with me.’

Rage coils inside my belly. I’m trying to save Adair’s life and, like her jackass of a father, she’s too stuck-up and stubborn to see it.

Adair speaks in a full voice. “Look, all I’m worried about is a ride home. I should never have agreed to stop by the Arena this morning, only the ghoul asked so nicely.”

Ride home? Is she serious? “Demons are attacking Purgatory, Adair.”

“So?”

I’m about to say ‘so your people probably evacuated,’ but she’s keeping her voice down (sort-of) and not moving. Why push it? “I’m sure someone will be here soon.”

Adair freezes. “Lincoln!” She jumps up and down. “My Prince is here to save
me.”

Enough, already. My hands grip her upper arm. “What part of ‘stand still and shut up’ was unclear?”

“Lincoln! Oh, Lincoln!” She tugs us both toward the Prince and the Tinea.

I dig my heels into the Arena floor and hold her arm firm. “Adair, what did I say? Stay quiet and don’t move. Lincoln is
fighting a demon
right now.”

She squirms harder under my grasp. “Let me go!” She turns to me. “How dare you–” She freezes, her eyes carefully inspecting my face. “Hey, when did you get those blue irises?”

Unholy moley. I can see where this is going, and it’s not a happy place.

“I don’t have blue irises. You’re seeing things.” Not my best lie.

“Did you come here with Lincoln? You two disappeared at the party after your little Cunnus girl thing.” Her tiny eyes thin to slits. “I need to talk to the High Prince. Now.” She pokes my rib cage with her pointer finger. “I’ll have you know, he and I are basically almost-engaged.”

I take a deep breath. “Sure you are.” I want to kick her. So. Hard. “Focus, Adair. Remember the nasty worm demon?”

“Lincoln!” She yanks against me with all her strength.

I speak in the loudest whisper I can manage. “Adair,
stay still
.”

She drags us both a few feet across the stadium floor. “I know what you’re trying to do.” Panic flickers in her eyes. “You’re pretending to be the Scala Heir, aren’t you?” She shoots a desperate look at Lincoln. “Well, you’re not. I’m the Scala Heir. I’M THE SCALA HEEEEEEIR!”

Crap.

The Tinea stops. Angling its lumpy head, it sniffs through two jagged nose-holes. “Scala Heir.”

Oh no, it smells the scent of igni on me, just like Armageddon did.

Lincoln hacks away at the Tinea’s body, but the wounds heal as soon as they’re made. The only way to kill a Tinea is to cut all four wormy limbs at once. Which is why no one’s ever done it.

The demon plunges its arms into the ground, its body quickly burrowing under the soil of the Arena. It leaves behind a narrow hole in the stadium floor. I stare at the darkened pit, wishing I could jump in and hide for a little while. Maybe just until Adair’s dead.

Lincoln sprints in our direction. “Don’t move!”

“See, I was right. My Prince will save me.” Adair’s face twists into a haughty smile. “I’m thrax, and thrax know demons. That worm-thing was nothing to worry about.”

Ugh, I can’t believe she’s this thick
. Leaning my weight on my right hip, I watch her hop about and call for her Prince. Oh yeah, I believe.

“The demon will resurface any second.” I grip her arm tighter. “Don’t move or it will show up right by your–”

“Lincoln! I knew you’d come for me.” She jumps up and down. Again.

I sigh. “Adair, you need to work on your listening skills.”

Lincoln stands beside the false Scala Heir. I release her arm; she cuddles into his chest. “Oh, my Prince! I was so frightened.”

Rage boils through me. Hands off, he’s mine.

Lincoln pats her back. “Everything will be fine, Adair.” His gaze shifts to me. “Myla, you said you’d keep her still.”

Sweet Satan! No way are my Adair management skills getting critiqued here. I set my fists on my hips. “I tried. She’s kind-of a bitch.”

Laughter dances in Lincoln’s eyes.

Adair rounds on me. At least she’s detached her cheek from his collarbone. “No one speaks to the Scala Heir in that manner!”

That did it. I raise my hand to shoulder height, ready to bring down a whole lotta igni pain on her blonde head.

Before I can get too far, the Tinea starts to resurface. Near our feet, the soil of the Arena floor trembles and rises. Rotor-like hands break through the ground. A lumpy head and wormy body follow. The leathery skin shimmers with mucus.

Adair screams her head off.

The quills on the Tinea vibrate, then fall still. The creature sniffs through its thin nose-holes. My mind snaps into battle mode. Anger at Adair, worry for Walker, and fear about the future…It all disappears as my mind starts calculating possible attack vectors and defense moves. The dance of battle begins.

The Tinea’s hole of a mouth stretches wide. Its lumpy head turns in my direction. “Scala Heir.”

My body goes into battle stance, tail arched over my shoulder. Lincoln and I are on the same side of the Tinea. Not the best way to attack this thing.

“No, no, no!” Adair leaps between me and the demon. “
I’m
the Scala Heir.”

Lincoln grabs her arm, trying to pull her out of the way. She won’t budge.

The Tinea’s wormy arms extend toward Adair, ready to stab through her belly, all in an attempt to get at me. My mind clicks through different moves and counter-moves.

Yeah, that’ll do it.

Crouching to the ground, I swing out my leg, slamming my shin behind Adair’s feet. The force of my kick takes her out at the ankles. Adair stumbles backwards, falling onto the dirt floor with a thump. The Tinea’s arms whiz harmlessly above our heads.

Yes, that saved her life.

And yes, I totally enjoyed kicking her.

Adair’s mismatched eyes look wide and glossy with fear. “That demon could have killed me.” For once, she sits quietly and keeps her yap shut.

Lincoln and I stand side by side, the Tinea paused before us. The creature angles its head-lump toward me. “Scala Heir.” It starts to burrow underground. Based on the angle, it’ll resurface right behind Lincoln. Not good.

I stare at the burrowing demon and scratch my chin. The thing’s pretty harmless in digging mode and there’s no way to cut its limbs underground. We’ve got a little breather. “Lincoln, remember when I said I owed you one?”

“Clearly.” Lincoln reignites his baculum. “I have big plans for how you’ll pay me back.” Before us, the Tinea has almost disappeared into the soil.

Shifting my hips, I spear it through the head with my tail. Spinning about, I slingshot the demon across the Arena floor. It slams into the opposite wall with a
gooey thwack. “The Tinea was digging to resurface behind you. Now we’re even.”

Lincoln half-smiles. “Thanks, I think.”

Across the Arena floor, the Tinea regains its footing and burrows into the soil.

Lincoln’s eyes open extra-wide. “I’ve got an idea.” He splits the baculum so his broadsword becomes two fiery short-swords. Standing at alert, he waits for the demon to resurface. “Get behind me.”

Okay, I can see where he’s going. It’s easiest to finish the Tinea if we attack from opposite sides, but if we walk into position, the demon will know exactly where we are. We need the element of surprise.

I stand behind Lincoln, my body on high alert. Adair sits nearby, watching us with her jaw hanging open. My mind clicks back into battle mode, but this time with a difference. Now I calculate more than my own moves and counter-moves. I smile. Fighting as a team feels beyond awesome.

The ground before Lincoln rises. Rotor-like hands break through the surface.

My body tenses, a coiled spring ready to break free. Shifting my weight to the balls of my feet, I speak in a whisper. “Now?”