Armageddon (Angelbound) (22 page)

Behind me, the blood slave tightens her grip on my arms. My hands can’t so much as shift under her grasp, let alone break free.

Sakura steps toward me, arms extended, her long nails dripping blood. “Now, let’s finish what we began,” she sighs.

Her nails slowly scratch their way up my throat until they find the puncture holes once more. She lets her fingers rest there, hovering for a moment before she breaks into my jugular vein once again.

“Your man asked if I had any final words, I should pay you the same courtesy. I am a civilized witch. What have you to say?”

My body feels slack and heavy. My brain can barely function. Still, some tiny part of me knows my chest chance for freedom is to play off the emotions of the blood slave behind me. Steeling up all my strength, I reply to Sakura.

“I’ve a question for you, filth. You murdered your own sister to create a blood slave. What did you do? Tie up her hands and cover her eyes before you took her life?” The body behind me twitches a bit and hope sparks inside me. Maybe there’s enough of her mortal sister left inside that red shell. If I push more on the whole ‘sister-murder’ thing, maybe she will set me loose.

“That’s exactly what I did.” A nasty smile curls Sakura’s painted mouth. “And much as she hates to hear you talk of her death, I assure you that my sister has no choice but to heed my every command.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Thank you. Are those your final words? I like them.” Laugher dances in her eyes. Sakura’s enjoying this way too much, like a cat playing with a mouse before the kill.

My mind races through options and strategies. If she likes playing with her kills, then I’ll give her something to play with. If nothing else, it could buy me a little time. “No, those aren’t my final words.”

“Ah, then. What are they?”

My gaze runs across Lincoln’s prone body. “Watch out behind you.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Your sister released Lincoln from her spell. Now, he’s coming to kill you.”

Sakura laughs, a high, tinkling sound that has nothing to do with humor. “How interesting you are. Your blood’s quite tasty.”

“No, listen to me. Your sister released Lincoln from her spell and now he’s coming for you!”

Come on, Sakura.
Please say something that your sister can interpret as a command to free Lincoln. I know this undead slave behind me wants to destroy your ass as much as I do.

I lean forward and scream in Sakura’s face. “Did you hear what I said?”

Her eyes narrow with rage. “Yes, of course I heard you. Your Lincoln is awake.” Her fingers plunge deeper into my skin. “That’s enough talk out of you.”

Instantly, the desire to sleep overwhelms me. I can barely keep my eyes open. But thin though my line of vision may be, I can still see Lincoln climbing to his feet and stalking in our direction.

Behind me, the undead sister gasps in delight.

It worked.
Your Lincoln is awake.
It must have been enough of a command that the sister could follow it.

Lincoln pauses behind Sakura, lifts his baculum sword high and finally, plunges it into her rib cage. Sakura’s hands fall from my neck as she tumbles to the ground. Her skin starts to bubble with crimson, like she’s boiling in her own stolen blood. Sakura screams in agony as more of her body gets eaten away. Within seconds, she’s nothing more than a bloody skeleton on the pagoda floor.

I whip around to see what’s become of Sakura’s sister. The one-time blood slave smiles as her body turns from solid flesh back into red mist. Bit by bit, she disappears.

The pagoda turns deadly quiet. I pat the puncture wounds on my neck. Still there, still oozing. I wish we had our first aid kit with us, but Lincoln lost his pack ages ago in Nefer’s prison.

I turn to Lincoln and force a smile. “Well, that was a whole lot of awful.”

“Agreed. I liked your hell better.”

“Me, too.” I glance around the pagoda. “Where’s the Veil of Fire? It should reappear, now that we’ve killed Sakura. She was the only thing blocking it before.”

From the corner of my eye, a flickering light catches my attention. I follow the brightness, and find that it’s shimmering through the hole that Sakura’s sister punched in the pagoda wall.

“I think I found it.” I jog out of the building to find the sheet of flame flickering on the small foot bridge.

Lincoln grabs my hand. “Hurry, it won’t last long.”

# # #

Lincoln and I step through Veil of Fire, finding ourselves back inside the secret passage leading to Armageddon’s throne room. Only this time, the Veil flickers to our left instead of our right. I exhale a long rattling breath.

We made it. We passed through the Veil of Fire.

Seconds pass before Anubis appears in the shadows, holding a torch in his right hand. “You both passed through your personal hells.”

“Barely,” I say. “Where are Kiya and Nefer?”

Anubis straightens his stance, as if preparing his body for a blow. “They haven’t arrived yet.”

I chuck him on the lower arm. “Sorry, Anubis. I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

“Are there any rumors about the prison break?” Lincoln asks.

“All of Hell has been alerted,” explains Anubis. “Everyone blames it on an eel-dragon. Some fool gave her water.”

I can’t help but smile. “That would be us.”

A small smile rounds Anubis’s mouth. “The official word is that all the prisoners were killed. But they’d say that even if some were still at large. It wouldn’t do to have Hell’s official escape record tarnished. Nefer and Kiya may still be heading this way.” A muscle flickers along Anubis’s jawline. “How I hate waiting.” He looks at us as if to say ‘I know you’ll hate it, too.’

No way are we standing around.
I’m nipping this little misunderstanding in the bud.

“We’re not waiting, Anubis.”

The demigod frowns. “I thought you had to kill Armageddon to free your son. That means waiting for Nefer, doesn’t it? You can’t get this far and not fulfill Verus’s prophecy.”

“Lincoln and I just killed the blood witch who cast the spell, so we don’t have to kill Armageddon anymore. Dead witch, spell over. We grab Maxon and go.”

“So you won’t…wait for Nefer.”

A small, guilty weight settles onto my shoulders. I do feel a shitty about leaving Anubis alone, especially after all he’s done for us. But Anubis is a big boy, unlike my son. At this point, my only real concern is how to get him to transport Lincoln and me into the throne room. I decide to lead with logic.

“Hey, you said yourself that Armageddon and his entourage are at the main tower to the walls of Hell.”

“That’s true,” says Anubis in a low voice. “He’s waiting for your father to arrive with his army.”

“Perfect.” I shoot him a hearty thumbs-up. “Then, there’s no better time for us to free Maxon.”

Anubis nods and stares at the fire-wall in dismay. I step up to him and gently set my hand on his shoulder. “Anubis, I know you’re worried. But we have to get in there and free Maxon. Lincoln and I can’t help Nefer here.”

Lincoln stares up the remaining length of tunnel. “Myla and I can try to sneak in without your vines. Where does this passageway lead?”

Anubis follows Lincoln’s stare. “To a tile in the center of the throne room floor.”

“Great.” I roll my eyes. “That’s about the most exposed spot to surface, I bet.”

“It is,” says Anubis. “That’s how Nefer got discovered the first time around. She wouldn’t want that for you.” He raises his arms. “I’ll have my vines set you down on the balcony. That’s your best chance for a sneak attack.”

Cool relief washes through me. The balcony sounds like a much better deal than the middle of the floor. “Thank you, Anubis.”

“Just get your boy.” Anubis raises his arms, and vines curl up from the ground, wrapping their slithering bodies around Lincoln and me. With a lurching haul, they pull us deep into the earth. Once again, there’s the sensation of falling through empty space. Only this time, I’m able to find Lincoln’s hand in the darkness. I smile.

We made it. We’re off to the throne room.

With slow, gentle movements, the vines shift Lincoln and I out of the darkness, setting us onto a high stone balcony.

Together, Lincoln and I belly-crawl over to the balcony’s edge, which is a series of tall spindles topped by a wide wooden railing. My shoulder presses against Lincoln’s as we peer through the line of rods. The sight tightens my throat with excitement and terror.

It’s Armageddon’s throne room. We’re really here.

The chamber is long, rectangular and made of shiny black rock. Across the room, a stone staircase rises up to end in a small, square platform and a pair of stout black thrones. On those chairs sit Armageddon and his dead mother, Onyx.

His dead mother? Really? This guy is un-freaking-believable.

Armageddon looks creepy as usual: seven feet tall with gangly limbs and a long face. Simply looking at him makes my skin crawl with disgust.

But as awful as Armageddon appears, he’s got nothing on the figure in the throne next to his. There sits the corpse of his mother, Onyx. She’s wrapped up like a mummy and strapped into the chair at a cock-eyed angle. Her head hangs low on her chest.

I shake my head in disbelief. So, not only did Armageddon kill his own mother, but he’s also strapped her into the throne next to his, hip to hip through all eternity. That’s one messed-up relationship.

Straining in the dim light, I look for Maxon’s prison box. Chests of goodies surround the stone thrones, along with a small metal cube. That’s it.

Maxon’s right there.

I grit my teeth, fighting the desire to rush across the room, speed up the stairs, and free Maxon. The only thing holding me back is the fact that the King of Hell now sits on his throne.

My breath catches. I so want to kill that bastard. Now.

A quiet moan echoes through the massive chamber, grabbing my attention. Armageddon hears it as well, and his gaze snaps to the small metal container.

“Look who’s waking up,” says Armageddon. He stretches out his long arm, pounding on the top of the metal box with his three-knuckled fist. “The monopsyche can’t protect you much longer, you know.” He leans closer to the box. “Yes, I know you’re in his head now, Hildy. Once I’m done with Maxon, I’ll send for you later.”

Emotions race through me. It all begins with a wave of cool relief. Sure I have the Looking Glass, but now I can see for myself that Maxon is alive. We aren’t too late. The tight, anxious pain I’ve been carrying in my chest loosens just a little bit. Even better, he’s not wide awake yet. Armageddon hasn’t had much of a chance to do damage.

After that, comes fear. It’s obvious that the King of Hell has been sitting beside Maxon, waiting for the second that he’s conscious to start torturing my boy. My pulse kicks up a notch, thudding with such force, I can feel it in my neck.

Finally, I’m hit with white-hot rage. Anger churns through my bloodstream, my muscles itching with the desire to run, fight, kill. Armageddon better not lay one finger on my kid.

Another groan fills the air. Maxon’s waking up and fast.

I turn to Lincoln, careful to keep my voice low. “Where’s the court?” Royalty never hangs out alone in a throne room. I should know.

Lincoln frowns. “Anubis originally said Armageddon was waiting in the tower at the Walls of Hell, looking out for Xavier’s army.”

“And they’re still hanging at the walls, but without Armageddon? That doesn’t make sense. Something’s fishy about this whole set-up. At least, there should be some guards in here, but I don’t see anyone.”

“They’d be stationed by the doors below us. We can’t see them because we’re on the balcony.”

“Right.” I force my breathing to slow. Dad always says that recon is the most important part of any mission. Now, we need to sit still, watch and wait. Someone will come through those doors. When they do, we’ll know who we’re up against and can make a plan.

A long creak sounds below us. Looking down, I see the source of the noise. A pair of huge lacquered wooden doors swing open beneath me, the great iron handles wielded by a pair of frost golems. At two stories tall, the icy creatures look like the Mr. Clean guy from TV commercials back in Purgatory. They move with slow, lumbering steps, the tops of their bald heads reaching just below the balcony’s floor. Across the darkened chamber, Armageddon eyes the ice-blue monsters from his black stone throne. The look on his face turns hungry and mean.

I frown. “Frost golems. Those can be tricky to kill.”

“We need a way to take them out fast.” Lincoln shoots me a knowing look. His strength is long-term battle strategy. Mine is off-the-cuff attack plans. In other words, killing these frost golems falls right in my wheelhouse. Or it would if we had any kind of weapons to kill them with.

“I gave my baculum to Nefer, so we only have one set between us. A single baculum can’t be ignited as much. We could each have a dagger or maybe a short-sword.”

“It’ll take us hours to kill them that way.”

I rub my temples with my fingertips. “There has to be something I’m missing.”

Please, let there be something I’m missing.

Two small figures walk through the now-opened doors. Without making a sound, they march down the long red walkway. Even in the dim light, it’s obvious that their bodies are semi-transparent. These two are ghosts, no doubt about it.

Once the spirits near the base of the staircase to Armageddon’s throne, the pair of frost golems lumber back underneath the balcony. As they pass below, I can see their liquid brains churning inside their great ice-blue skulls. A deep scraping sound fills the air, followed by a deafening slam.

The frost golems have closed the doors once again.

I grip my single baculum rod in my hand. There must be a way to take those frosties down. If I give myself a minute, something will come to me. No way did we get this far to get trapped up here.

The two ghosts scale up the steps leading to Armageddon’s throne. My eyes widen as I recognize them. One spirit is missing an arm and walks with a pronounced limp. That’s a total giveaway. It’s Aldred and his daughter, Lady Adair.