Devil's Punch (6 page)

“
Ya termine
,” Tia said. “
Buena suerte, nena
.”
I'm done. Good luck, child
.

We said our farewells quickly—no point in lingering. From my bag came a soft whimper, Butch making a last-ditch effort to persuade me to stay home.

But I couldn't. The demons knew I cared about Shannon,
so they'd taken her for leverage. Whatever horrors awaited me, she was suffering them already, and it made my skin feel too tight. But I couldn't let myself go there. Too much imagination would paralyze me. The only way I could do Shannon any good was to contain my anxiety and focus on something else. I strode out to the car.

Chance didn't like being a passenger, so I tossed him my keys. Instead of getting in, he asked, “Would you prefer to drive the first leg of the trip?”

It wasn't a matter of whether I wanted to; it was the fact that he thought to ask. Once, he'd made decisions for me. He did what he thought was best for me, and kept information from me. His question showed me that he'd really changed. He saw me as stronger and more capable, someone who
should
have choices.

Smiling, I shook my head. “It's fine. Just let me know if you get tired and we'll switch. Do you have a bag in the car?”

In answer, he indicated the backpack behind the seat in the El Camino. “I guessed we'd be traveling. Just a change of clothes and protein bars, but with you, I've learned it pays to be prepared.”

“Clever man.”

The Mustang was nowhere in sight; he must've left it at his apartment. It would be safer there anyway. Tia had opted for a front garden instead of a garage, but nobody thought my El Camino was nice enough to steal. Looks could be deceiving.

I let Butch pee in the grass, and then I climbed into the car. It smelled faintly of the piña colada air freshener I'd bought, and the interior was pristine. I'd never owned a car before; I took care of this one.

It was almost dark when we took off, which meant heavy traffic as we came down the mountain. Chance had been here long enough that he wasn't surprised by the way the
periférico
choked up, and he bitched like a native as we inched along, exhaust creeping in the windows. Since it was a cool night, it seemed wasteful to run the air conditioner. Buses clogged the right-hand lane, stopping every four feet.

In the evening, it looked magical here, even with the traffic. Mountains rose in the distance as we crept along. Lights sparkled from faraway houses; neon blurred into red and yellow lines from shops set along the highway. The sky above was gray, not black, so that even night felt mutable here, like shadows held no sway.

Once we passed what used to be the
toreo
—bullfighting ring, although it had been torn down a while ago—the traffic cleared somewhat, permitting him to drive faster. He drove like he'd learned in Italy, whipping in and out, throwing the car at spaces that seemed too small. Horns sounded in our wake, but he was smiling, and so was I.

Despite my worry over Shannon, it felt good to set out with him. This wasn't a job he needed me for, and yet Chance was here beside me. He'd come to Texas because he wanted me. Missed me. Maybe even loved me. I entertained the possibility without suspicion whispering in my ear.

The city stretched before us, an endless monument to human ambition. It took two hours to cross onto the
cuota
—toll road—that led toward Oaxaca. At this speed the wind whipped my hair about my face, and I rolled the glass up halfway. That was better. Out here it was darker too, a black velvet sky and stars shining down on the hulks of mountains sleeping in the distance.

He drove halfway, and then he pulled over so I could take a turn. To the best of my recollection, he'd never done that. I smiled at him, silhouetted against the headlights of a passing car.

“You can nap if you want. I'll wake you if I get tired.”

“Thanks.” He tilted his head against the window and went to sleep. That demonstrated a level of trust we hadn't achieved before. In the past, he'd be tense the whole time, as if giving me that much control proved problematic for him. The El Camino had an old AM/FM radio in lieu of a more expensive stereo, but that was good, as it eliminated any interest in jacking it. I listened to ranchero music all the way to keep my mind off Shannon's plight, but when I got off the highway, I woke
Chance. GPS could be unreliable in the mountains, and the coordinates were remote.

“I think we're getting close.”

He rubbed his eyes and studied our surroundings: nothing but trees and mountains and bright, indifferent stars shining down. Pretty soon we were on a dirt track that became downright impassable. When we hit a deep rut, I parked the car in what was meant as an overlook, just rocks and dusty soil. Chance climbed out and grabbed his rucksack. The night air smelled of pine resin and distant smoke, possibly from a campfire. This looked like a good place if you were trying to get back to nature. Terribly remote, in fact.

He offered a half smile. “My backpack has plenty of room. Is yours full?”

I shook my head.

“Get the minimum of what you need and wedge it in with my stuff.”

“Athame. Chalice. Grimoires.” I wished he had room for my magickal chest, but it was heavy. I had to make do with the touch and spells powered by will alone. Fortunately, the five spells I had practiced with Tia fell into that category. This meant leaving my clothes behind, but the arcane items were more critical.

After we arranged my things, he said, “It's pretty dark. We can set off on foot, or we can wait until light to see if it's safe to drive on.”

“I can fix that.” It was a simple charm, but Chance hadn't seen me cast it before. Maybe I was showing off a little.

With my athame, I etched the air with the symbol for magnesium, coiled the power within me, and then whispered, “
Fiat lux
.”

I used Latin when possible because it
sounded
more impressive, but so long as I had the willpower to drive the desired result, I could say
Clap on, clap off
, for all it mattered. This spell I had practiced often because we lost power a lot, and so it flared to life smoothly. The result was a white-hot glow at the top of my knife, far brighter and more piercing than anything technology
could kindle. The pain I ignored and swallowed, like a large pill down my throat. I'd gotten good at pretending magick didn't burn me from the inside out like a live coal. This was a small price to pay for using it, and Tia had said it didn't seem to be doing me any harm. She'd worked at first to see if there was a way to mitigate it, but eventually she just shook her head and said,
Everything comes at a cost
.

Chance drew in a breath. “Wow.”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve these days.”

“So I see.”

I still hadn't told him about the demon summoning. I
should
. God, after my lectures about transparency, and how people should have the right to choose, I should be ashamed. He needed to know what I'd done to survive and how it had changed the way the world reacted to me. Then he could make an informed decision about whether he still wanted to be with me.

Soon,
I promised myself.

The path lay before us, rocky and uncertain. Farther on, it narrowed and became impossible for a car to pass. I'd stopped, in fact, at the last point where a vehicle could turn around and head back. The whole area gave off an
abandon all hope
vibe. The light made us easier to track, which set my nerves on edge, but I wouldn't dare move without it. One wrong step could send us tumbling down the side of the mountain. Good thing Butch was opposed to nature hikes; he dozed uneasily in my handbag, as usual.

To make matters worse, I was stiff from driving, exhausted, and worried. Not in top fighting form. Maybe it wouldn't come to that.

“We're heading the right way?”

Chance closed his eyes, and the air around him crackled as if with heavy static electricity. When he turned his luck to a problem, he received a sense of whether the set course intersected with the desired result. “Yes. It's not far. Less than a mile.”

He took my hand then, interlacing our fingers, and he led the way, sensing that fear and weariness made it hard for me to act decisive. If we took turns leading, as true
partners, that'd make me very happy. I focused on walking, picking my steps with care. When we approached the rendezvous point, I had five spells locked in my head. I'd prefer if we arrived first so I'd have time to lay a circle, but from the smell of sulfur and brimstone, I could tell I wouldn't be so lucky.

Chance sniffed the air and glanced at me with a raised brow. “Seems like we have company. What do you want to do?”

“Go forward. We have to, for Shannon.”

“Do you have any idea what they want with you, Corine?”

“In Peru I fought a demon. A Knight of Hell, actually. I wounded him pretty bad, stole his true name, and banished him. If I had to guess, I'd say revenge.”

“A Knight of Hell,” he repeated. “Like the ones my mom summoned to witness her pact with the Montoyas.”

“Yep.”

“And you fought one?”

I flashed him a smile. “I didn't just fight. I won.”

His muscles coiled as if in protest of that revelation, but he let me take the lead. I went up the path the last few steps, and found a single demon waiting. It was unlike any I'd seen before, with an odd, marine-animal look. It had gray, scaly skin, side-set eyes, and a tremendously narrow skull with two rows of teeth. The thing was naked and showed no genitals, but its chest moved, breathing the air. I saw no gill slits. Its hands were elongated like paddles, tipped with wider fingers. I couldn't imagine what purpose that design served.

The demon offered its hand, evidently knowing that much of our customs, but when it registered my repulsed fascination, it drew back. The face did not change. “You are familiar with our lore, then? I would take nothing uninvited.”

“Where's Shannon?” I demanded.

On second glance, I saw that the broad pads of its fingertips were curved, almost like little suckers. They appeared perfectly suited for draining…something. Best I'd opted not to touch it.

“I am Greydusk, here as guide only. To survive the descent, you must do precisely as I instruct.”

The…descent? That did not sound healthy. I glanced at Chance, who stepped forward, both fists clenched. “Where's our friend? I won't ask again.”

“Sheol,” Greydusk answered. At my blank look, it added, “The other side of the gate, where you must also go, if you would ever see her again.”

“You want me to cross over?” Fear clamored in my head.

As if in response, Butch whined. I knew the feeling. I should've left him with Tia, but there was no chance he'd behave himself. For good or ill, he was
my
dog. If he couldn't talk me out of an adventure, then he always accompanied me. So I settled him in my purse and crossed the strap over my body.

“What I want is irrelevant,” the creature said. “But if you mean to save the girl, you must follow me.”

I remembered how Jesse said Shannon was so far gone as to be beyond his range entirely. Or dead. If they'd taken her to Sheol, that explained why he couldn't sense her. That seemed to bear out their claim, but I needed proof it wasn't a wild-goose chase.

“How do I know you have her…or that she's still alive?”

The demon offered me a small circular object. “This token will function but once. Are you certain you wish to use it now?”

On closer inspection, I saw it was a mirror. “Yes, show me Shannon.”

He whispered a word in an unfamiliar language I guessed was demontongue and a magickal glow kindled within the glass. It was dark and shadowed; I couldn't see
where she was being held, but that was definitely Shannon. Her breath sounded quick, distressed with fear, and she was curled up, arms about her knees.

“You bastard.”

“I am not responsible for my employer's actions, Ms. Solomon. Will you come or not?”

“Let's go,” I said.

Greydusk turned and climbed a few steps, its movements too limber and loose, but when Chance followed me, the demon stopped. “My contract provides only for the Binder.”

That was a name Kel had given me, and then the Knight of Hell I'd defeated in Peru had echoed it. Supposedly, I came from King Solomon's lineage, which gave me power over demons. I didn't scoff at that notion as much as I once did. Too much had happened to make me believe.

“It's not negotiable,” Chance said before I could reply. “You take both of us.”

In the glow from my witchlight, his features were fixed, determined. It would come to violence if I tried to hand him my keys and send him away. And with his luck, there was no telling what might happen. If the demon was more ferocious than it looked, and Chance's life was in danger, we might trigger an earthquake.

Greydusk considered, weighing factors to which I wasn't privy. At last, it replied, “The godling may come. I agree to the new terms.”

Godling?
Wide-eyed, I stared at Chance. He lifted a shoulder in a shrug that claimed he didn't know either. But it opened the book on all kinds of questions, the one foremost in my mind:
Who the hell
was
your father?
Stunned, I hurried to keep up with the demon already moving up the mountainside.

It was a long, steep climb, with less oxygen as we went up. Eventually Greydusk reached a plateau that ended in a sheer rock wall. Above, the trees grew spindly, thinning with the altitude. Below, everything was lush and green, with a blue thread of a brook running through it—or I imagined it would be, if I could've glimpsed the view
during the day. At this time of night, it was all darkness, with stars glimmering just enough light to render the mountain spooky, and the glow from my athame only added to the eerie atmosphere.