Ascension (5 page)

“People died to get us this information. It will all have been in vain if we do not even take a look.” Lillian’s voice was steady.

Belinda kept her own council. It didn’t matter if she agreed or not, she would fight or flee as required to further their goal. Nothing else mattered besides driving these demons from England and back to hell where they belong.

“We go, then.” Reece opened the door and damp musty air billowed out.

Belinda’s skin tingled with gooseflesh and all her senses heightened. There was nothing as thrilling as taking on a demon cell, and she knew from experience that the musty scent coming from the open door was a sign that they were close to something. Demons preferred to live near damp, filthy water. Wet, hot air flooded the corridor. They crossed the threshold, entering a large cavernous room lit by large cauldrons of fire. High above the water-covered floor, they traversed a series of catwalks that spanned the ceiling. Below, on the far side of what had once been a warehouse, a large group of demons knelt, enthralled with what was happening just out of Belinda’s view.

Reece made quick work of the demon guarding the door, silently slicing its throat. The very large malleus demons had a low intelligence, enormous heads and slimy skin. These demons rarely moved around in the open.

The man-sized trebox demons like the one she’d killed outside the office cloaked their gray, scaly skin and walked among humans in broad daylight. Disguises and an inattentive society, allowed them to walk the streets freely.

Reece moved to the right, while Belinda and Lillian took the catwalk to the left. They crept along careful not to bring attention to themselves. The stench was almost enough to bring up the small supper she’d had hours before. Belinda’s heart pounded. It wasn’t fear. She lived for the hunt, thrilled in the kill. There was nothing to compare.

Concealing trousers under her skirts had become her practice since the day she’d needed to run from a demon hunt. Her heavy skirts had wrapped around her legs and nearly cost her life. Lucky for her, she’d managed to run the trebox through, but it had been a very close thing.

She loved the way the men’s clothing hugged her hips and legs. They allowed her freedom of movement as opposed to the restrictions of heavy skirts, corsets and layers of frill. What would Gabriel say if he ever saw her in such attire? Of course, he never would, but he’d be mortified. Probably call her a trollop. Perhaps that was the solution to her problem. If she let him see her as she truly was, he would run from their engagement.

Gabriel had no place here in the bowels of London. His place was so much loftier. He was the image of the archangel he’d been named for. He could never understand what she was doing or why. Forcing the stray thoughts aside, she concentrated on the room, the demons and the best way to get out alive.

Focus, Belinda.

Lillian pointed toward two malleus demons blocking the stairs down to the floor. From under her skirt, Lillian pulled a small crossbow, specially made for her. She nocked an arrow and waved across to Reece who nodded. She let the arrow fly and the demon gurgled as the projectile pierced his throat. He clutched his neck and fell over the edge of the top step, tumbling until he came to a splashing stop at the bottom.

The other demon roared and rushed the women. Belinda twirled her sword around her arm once, pressed past her friend and ran the demon through. His arm came up and knocked her sword out of her hand. Her arm lashed back, hitting the railing hard enough that her flesh ached with pins and needles.

She dropped to her back and kicked out as the demon leaped forward, catching him in the stomach at the spot where she had stabbed him. His eyes rolled back in his head when Lillian’s Japanese dagger impaled him. He tumbled over the catwalk, hit a support beam and fell to the wet floor.

Lillian smiled down at her and offered her hand. “Nicely done.”

“Thank you for the help,” Belinda said.

Lillian just nodded and rushed down the stairs.

Reece was already fighting several demons.

There was three inches of fetid water on the floor. Lillian pulled up her skirts and tucked them cleverly into her belt, revealing very high boots adorned with sheaths and loops for several different manner of weapons including a whip, which hung above her knee. She was completely unashamed that part of her leg was visible as she rushed into the fray. She used one of her two long
sai
daggers to slice through the throat of a scaly, gray trebox demon.

Belinda’s boots splashed down just as a malleus rushed the stairs. She spun into a back-kick, surprising the larger opponent with her strength, before making a second turn to get enough thrust to lop off his bulbous head. The demon’s empty eyes stared up at her from the murky water. Belinda’s stomach roiled, but she pushed farther into the battle.

Belinda stabbed a smaller demon with her dirk. By that time Reece, had fired his gun into the head of a large demon and run two through with his sword. Lillian carved up one with her elaborate knives and threw several of the darts she kept at her thigh.

Gasping for air, Belinda clutched her knees. She studied the corner that had so enraptured the creatures, but saw nothing, save for a large, bloody rock where she supposed one of them had stood. She moved closer. Nothing indicated to whom the blood belonged.

She turned back to her companions. Ten demons in all had gathered. The three of them had killed nine. Reece grabbed hold of the throat of the last trebox. His human fingers looked pale against the gray skin.

“Tell me where to find the master,” Reece demanded.

The trebox widened his eyes but said nothing. His scrawny arms flailed against the much stronger Reece.

“I will let you live if you tell me, demon,” Reece said.

It was probably a lie. They never left a demon alive if they could defeat him. That’s what they did. They killed demons. Hunted them and then killed them. No mercy. No pardon.

Reece pressed the barrel of his pistol against the demon’s forehead. The creature’s black eyes widened.

Lillian made her way up the stairs and dropped her skirts back into place. The lovely redhead had no stomach for interrogation.

Belinda stayed, hoping for some answer to Reece’s question.

The demon raised his hands up, wrapped them around Reece’s and squeezed. Belinda saw the shock on her friends face.

“Don’t,” Reece yelled.

Belinda rushed forward with her sword raised. The room echoed with the sound of Lillian running back down the stairs. Belinda’s heart pushed into her throat. What was this demon doing to Reece?

The thundering sound of the pistol firing answered her question. The top of the demon’s head blew off, ending the interrogation.

“Reece?” Lillian said.

Reece’s handsome face paled and his eyes were wide. “Killed himself. That thing pressed my hands so hard the gun fired, so that he would not have to reveal anything about his master. How in hell are we going to fight that?”

Belinda had never seen her friend look so grim.

They climbed up the stairs in silence. Belinda retrieved her skirt near the entrance and dressed herself as a proper debutante, before they made their way back to a more respectable part of London.

In the carriage, Lillian remarked, “That was exciting, but rather a waste of time.”

“Not entirely. We know they gather and we know they are using abandoned warehouses. We also know that our sources are giving us good information.”

“I suppose.”

Belinda liked to watch the dynamic between Lillian and Reece. She had once asked Lillian if they were lovers, but her friend only laughed.

Still, they bickered often and Reece remained very protective of Lillian. They disagreed more often than they agreed. Sometimes Belinda was sure that Lillian argued with Reece just out of habit.

“You did not think we were going to end this war tonight, did you, my dear?” Reece asked.

Lillian sighed and leaned back against the soft cushion of the carriage bench. “No. I just hoped to make a bit of headway.”

He took her hand, kissed her fingertips and placed it back in her lap. “I know.”

Why these two were not lovers would remain a mystery to Belinda. If she adored someone the way they obviously adored each other and that person fought the same war as she did, allowed her to do what she needed to and supported her wishes, she’d never let that person go.

Thoughts of Gabriel made her heart ache. He came from a world where fighting demons was fantasy. How could he ever understand her life or her passion for the cause?

* * * *

Considering the events of the night, Belinda looked presentable when she made her way in through the garden gate. She had stopped into the office and washed her face and hands before heading home.

Gabriel lounged on a bench at the end of the terrace. His legs stretched out in front of him as if he was a man at perfect leisure. If it had not been four o’clock in the morning, the sight might have been quite normal. He was still in his evening clothes, though his cravat lay loose around his neck and his trousers had wrinkled.

“I thought we had agreed you would call tomorrow, my lord.” She kept her voice even in spite of her racing heart and tight throat.

“I could not wait so long to see my beloved.” It might have been the first time he did not stand in her presence.

Belinda trudged up the terrace steps and sat next to him.

“Gabriel, I’m too tired to fight with you tonight. Can you just call tomorrow and we will talk?” The entire evening weighed her down. The ball seemed a lifetime ago. And now, here he was again, in her garden and he would demand explanations.

His tone lightened. “I really just wished to see that you arrived home safely.”

“Of course, I’m safe.”

“You say that as if it is a given.”

“It is.”

He sat up straight, his stare intensified, and he took her face in his calloused fingers. “I wish that were true. I wish you were honest with me. You leave your close friend’s ball early and disappear, not returning home for hours and then you tell me you were never in any danger.”

“I am fine, Gabriel. You need not worry over me. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.” She hated that she caused him pain. Hadn’t she released him from his responsibilities earlier at the ball?

He dropped his hands and spoke as if he’d read her thoughts. “I suppose that I should not care, Bella, but I do. I suppose that after what you said this evening, I should walk away from you and find another woman to spend my life with.”

Her heart traveled up and lodged firmly in her throat. “You should.”

He examined her from her head to her muddy boots. “If only it were as simple for me to forget about you as it seems to be for you to have abandoned your feelings for me. Perhaps you never had the same depth of feeling for me.”

She saw her way out. All she had to do was tell him she’d never loved him, and she would be rid of Lord Gabriel forever. She should do it. It would save them both a great deal of trouble and pain. It was one thing to lie about what she did and where she’d gone. But this? “That is not true. My feelings run just as deep.”

His eyes widened. “Then why would you wish to end our engagement?”

Her limbs had become heavy sacks of sand, which she could no longer carry anymore. Even sitting up straight stretched her resources. “I thought we could talk about this in the light of day, after a good night’s sleep.”

He shrugged. “I thought you would go straight home after the ball. Yet I find you in the garden, your boots covered in mud and your hair felled from its earlier state of grace. I cannot stop myself from wanting answers again. Since I know full well that you are not going to tell me what you did tonight or whom you were with, I think you should at least tell me why you have decided to toss me over.”

He spoke softly and his expression remained calm, but the anger in his voice lay just under the surface. She’d known him long enough to hear it simmering there.

“I’m tired Gabriel. I do not know what you want me to say.”

His eyes softened when he looked at her. He was a magician who had her under his spell and she couldn’t look away. “I want to know why, with so little remorse, you are ending an arrangement that when made was the greatest joy in my life? I seem to recall, you were quite happy too the day we signed the contract.”

“I have changed.” Belinda’s heart clenched painfully. Perhaps this is what people meant by a broken heart. She wanted to run into the house and put off this conversation for as long as possible. She wanted to, but she couldn’t.

“I can see that, but it is not an answer. You have said that you still harbor feelings for me, yet you wish to be released from our contract.” He’d omitted any emotion from his statement.

“That is correct.” She took the same tone.

“Why?” One piece of hair had come loose from its queue and fallen over his eye.

She pushed the disobedient shock back.

He turned into her hand and the day’s growth on his cheek scratched her palm. His locks were as silky as she remembered. The contrast with his rough beard sent a shock of desire to her core, as if he had touched her there.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. My life has become very complicated, in ways, I cannot possibly explain. Frankly, you would never believe me. While my affection for you has never changed, I am no longer a proper wife for you. I could not be happy in the kind of marriage you deserve.” It was the truth. Though certainly not the entire story of the last four years of her life, but everything she said was completely honest.

“Bella.” He kissed her palm.

Juices pooled between her legs. She yearned for his lips to repeat their attentions of the other night. The memory of his head between her legs encompassed her, and the heat of her blush suffused her face and neck.

His voice was a source of warmth in the cool night. “I know you are telling the truth as you see it, my love, but I think you underestimate me. How can you know what kind of wife I require?”

She took her hand away. “You want what every man wants, Gabriel. You want a simple woman who will take care of your houses and bear your children. I cannot be that woman. I would go mad sewing useless pieces of cloth and seeing to the servants.”