Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy) (22 page)

But Papa Leth… The first of my five fathers had been a great warrior, a soldier of God. He taught me to fight, but a crusader was more than just a warrior. He’d been a holy fighter for justice and now his spirit carried a touch of the divine.

That was why my mother had chosen him and it was one of the gifts he’d given me at conception. A touch of the divine to keep me from being eternally damned like her.

As Lucifer’s niece, my soul was nearly as black as his, but with the purity of my unicorn father and holy strength from Papa Leth…

I drew on that purity, on the tiny little sliver of holiness buried deep within my blackened soul. It wasn’t much more than a spark. I’d always been more in touch with my dark side, but that divine flicker remained.

I needed it now more than ever.

I grasped it and drew it forth, pouring everything I had into that small orb. The spark flared in my palm, burning bright. A light directly from On High shone forth, blazing against the dark phantom. I pressed my hand against its incorporeal chest, channeling the light into the ethereal being. The light burned, searing across my vision. If was foreign and strange, a part of me I barely knew and wasn’t sure I liked. But I supposed that just like an angel could succumb to sin and fall, a bitch straight outta Hell could embrace the light.

At least for a little while.

The divine light burned through the phantom. It wailed in agony as it was torn from its tenuous grasp on this world. The dark shadows that made up its form flickered and finally faded away. Its screams tore into the depths of my soul, nearly driving me mad. Then, finally, the unholy spirit was ripped away, banished from the tween.

It drifted off, freed from the warlock’s dark magics and able to return to On High where it belonged. And I knew that as a truth. Just as Sam had cleansed humans in the city, my small connection to On High had saved the pour soul Maxim had tried to sacrifice.

I dropped to one knee, panting, energy spent and unable to support myself. I wouldn’t stay down for long.

But fuck, how did Sam go through that more than once a day?

I pushed myself up, finding my center once more, meeting his glaring gaze and his clenched fists showed the proof of his anger.

“You haven’t won,” he snarled. “This is just the beginning. That was nothing.”

He raced for the circle, crazed gaze centered on the dead bodies and blood-strewn pentagram—ready to escape into Hell. Jezze and Sam still struggled with the phantoms, but they looked to be faring better than I had. And I couldn’t have drawn on the divine energy again if I’d tried. My only hope to end this was Maxim.

I rushed forward, uncaring of what would happen next. I wasn’t about to let this fucking warlock get away.

T
he room tilted
as I rushed after the warlock, the dark energy of the circle warping space as I crossed into a place halfway between this dimension and the next. I skidded and slid down the angled floor toward my target. I dug my heels in and raised my blade, swinging it at Maxim as soon as I got within reach. I caught him across the thigh and he tripped, falling just before he entered the circle.

I grabbed his ankle and hauled him back while he tried to crawl and escape me. He kicked me off him, surprisingly strong, and I fell onto my back against the stone floor, head slamming against the ground.

“Mother fucker,” I growled and flipped back to my feet, grabbing and hauling him back once more.

We struggled at the edge of the circle, flashes of dark magic rising from the runes. They licked at my skin, as if tasting the evil in my flesh. Yeah, I wasn’t feeding them so they could get over it.

My fingers transformed to claws and I struggled to get one around his throat. I’d choke the fucker out. But he fired a blast of midnight lightning from his palm, slamming into my middle. I was hurled back a few feet, stumbling, but I shook the strike off and rushed forward once again.

I planted myself between him and the gate. “You’re not going anywhere, Maxim. You’ve got plenty to answer for.”

I raised my sword in front of me, keeping the wolf’s claws in place, and gripped it with both hands. He wasn’t getting past me. If he got through the gate, I’d never find him again. I needed to face him here, in my world, in the tween.

He pulled a spiked mace from his belt and held it up. “You’re in over your head, bitch. You cannot comprehend the powers my lord Silaran has given me.”

I snorted. “Dickhole, I’ve heard that before. What, you think you’re the first shithead who was promised cosmic powers? I’ll let you in on a little secret. They never deliver. They’re greedy sons of bitches. They want the power. You’re nothing but a pawn.”

“You’ll see! You’ll see how powerful I am!” He raised his hand, an orb of dark energy coalescing in his palm. “I’m not a pawn. My sister is destined to be the Queen of Hell. That puts me in a special position. Let me show you what power I’ve gained.”

He hurled the orb at me and I stepped to the side, holding my sword like a bat. I channeled hellfire through the metal and swung for the fences. The fire deflected the blast, sending it careening into the wall. Pieces of stone exploded out, raining down on us, and Maxim covered his head from the falling stone.

That’s when I rushed him, swinging my blade for his vulnerable throat.

He lifted his mace, blocking my swing, and then aimed for my head. He was stronger and faster than he looked, no doubt powered up by Silaran’s blessing and dark magic. I parried his blows, but he advanced on me, moving faster than I could match. Exhaustion crept and plucked at the edges of my mind, pushing forward and threatening to attack me after all the fighting I’d been doing.

And Maxim was at full strength. I needed to find a way to get an edge over him. Fast.

He knocked my blade aside with the swing of his mace and then kicked me in the stomach and knocked me back against the wall. I slammed into hard stone, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs.

Dizziness clouded my mind, the room spinning with the sensations. I tried to raise my blade again, but he attacked before I could move. He whipped out a ritual dagger, aiming for my throat. I was lucky and managed to catch him mid-swing, putting my forearm against his to stop his advance. But he pushed and pushed and pushed. He had demonic strength and leverage and my aching muscles simply couldn’t push him away.

“You’ll make a fine sacrifice for my lord Silaran,” he hissed, face inches from mine. “Just imagine how much power he’ll gain when he devours the soul of Lucifer’s niece. You’ll be the meal that helps him rise to his supreme power. Then, when he takes over Hell, I will be a general at his side.”

I wondered how Uncle Luc’s current generals would take having this one in their ranks.

Behind Maxim, a figure emerged from the gate. I muttered a curse, certain that it was some dark Hell beast coming out to help Maxim kill me. Or Silaran himself. No matter what, I was screwed.

Maxim’s blade pushed forward, sharpened edge slicing into my neck, drawing a drop of blood. It burned me with the dark magic, that divine fucking light in my soul reacting to the press of pure evil. This would kill me. This person, this warlock, this poor excuse for a breathing being was about to bring me down.

And unleash Silaran on the tween. My Bry. My Sam. My Jezze and Momma R and… He would destroy them, snatch their souls and use them for his own purposes. He’d destroy everything I’d fought to protect and
laugh
as they died.

My skin sizzled, blade sinking deeper, and still I struggled. I would fight until my last breath, until he ripped my beating heart from my chest. I may get my ass kicked, but a mother fucking Morningstar didn’t quit. I glared at him, meeting his black-eyed stare, letting him see the pure hatred that lived inside me. Let him see the toiling, rolling emotions. I fought to call on hellfire, to pull in extra energy from somewhere, but I was done. Worn out. Empty.

Maxim lurched and I waited for the feel of his dagger slicing through my throat, for the end. But those evil eyes widened with pain, his strength easing, and his attention fell to the sword sticking out of his chest. The gleaming metal speared through his heart and tip embedded in the stone beside my head. Shock overcame his face and he lifted his attention to me. He coughed up a spurt of blood and then slouched, body giving out on him, metal retreating from his chest.

I pushed him off and he tumbled to the ground in a lifeless pile of flesh and bone.

I swung my attention around, looking for my savior. Sam? Papa Leth? He usually fought with a sword…

Except, standing there, her blade covered in Maxim’s blood, was my mother.

I stared at her, shock consuming me. I didn’t know how to react. Any other time, I would have expected her to turn the blade on me, but instead, she’d saved my life.

She drove her sword down into Maxim’s head, finishing him off with a pleased smile. Then she looked up at me. “I sensed you through the gate. I…”

I stared at her, slowly shaking my head. She’d hurt me so much when I was younger. I couldn’t reconcile her cackling laughs and pleased smiles at my pain with my gratitude for what she’d just done.

“Go.” She jerked her chin toward the tunnel. “Silaran is near. I won’t be able to hold him off for long.”

“Mom… I…” I struggled to catch my breath, hands still shaking with the adrenaline coursing through my body. I couldn’t think straight—couldn’t do anything but stare.

The cavern rumbled, burning light from the runes of the circle growing dark, and then plunged the cavern into near-total darkness.

“Go.” She pushed me, her palm sizzling against my skin. A familiar feeling from my childhood. Though this time it was to make me hurry and not just because she liked to make me cry. “Run! Now!”

But it was too late. There was no running or hiding. The gate opened wide, letting forth the blazing heat of Hell. I could see through the gate and spied the flames rising high, ash filling the air, and crackling mounds of brimstone that filled Hell. A towering figure stepped forward, standing more than twice my height. His skin was black, crackling seams of read twining along his arms, and a pair of mighty midnight wings spread to reach both sides of the cavern. He held a glowing red trident, weapon wreathed in hellfire.

“Morningstar,” he growled, voice rumbling like a raging volcano. “The mother
and
the daughter. Your souls will be a feast the likes of which no creature from On High or Hell has ever known.”

My mother and I backed away, raising our swords. My mother whispered to me, “He can’t be killed in the tween. The only way is to drive him back to Hell and close the gate.”

Goody.

“Well,” I sought my center, refocusing on the fight to come. “At least now I won’t be able to say we never do anything as a family.”

Silaran raised his burning trident high above his head, the evil twining flames of Hell crawling all over the weapon. My mother and I raised our blades, and then together, we rushed him.

I
leapt to the side
, watching the trident stab into the stone right where I’d stood. The rock sizzle and melted, leaving a puddle of magma behind. The heat reached where I stood, singing my hair and burning my skin.

I raced forward, ducking low under Silaran’s reach, then slashed my sword across the back of his ankle, going for the Achilles tendon. If he even had one. My blade dug through the thick stony hide, drawing a spray of flaming blood. But Silaran barely seemed to feel the blow. His hide was so thick. It was like a mosquito poking him.

I had the bad feeling I was about to get swatted.

He swept his trident at me and I jumped back, the very tip of his weapon whizzing past my stomach. I rolled to my feet outside of the reach of the ritual circle. He was too big and faster than seemed possible.

I was so fucking far out of my league, but my mother was right, I didn’t have to kill him. As long as he didn’t have a mortal servant in the tween, his power would be limited. If we could drive him back through the gate, he would be trapped there.

And, long shot, if he opened a gate on his own, it would consume a lot of energy. He wouldn’t be anywhere near this powerful. It was why dems had mortal servants for such tasks.

And Silaran was fresh out of slaves courtesy of moi… and everyone else.

The problem was, I had no idea how to push him back into the portal.

My mother hacked at Silaran in a rage, and she drew on her own demonic powers in the process. She looked less human than I’d ever seen, and it seemed she’d grown several feet taller. Flames wrapped around her like a billowing gown, and black coals burned her eyes. Silaran warded off her blows, though he was still more than a match for her. She kept him busy, however, and I knew that could give me the opening I needed.

I dug my feet into the ground and pushed off, running toward the massive, homicidal asshole. I raised my blade overhead, and hacked at his legs as hard as I could. If I could get him off-balance, we could just push him through the gate before he recovered. But my blows, deadly as they would be against a mortal, didn’t faze him. He shook his leg and kicked me away like I was an annoying puppy. I skidded across the ground, stone scraping my flesh. I stumbled back to my feet, dizzy and blinking my eyes to clear my vision.

Obviously, that didn’t work.

New plan.

I looked around, searching for anything that could help and… that’s when I saw it. A massive stone stalactite hung over Silaran’s head.

I gave my mother a look and gestured upward. She diverted her attention long enough to see what I was thinking and gave me an almost imperceptible nod.

She kept hacking away at Silaran, meeting his strikes and delivering several of her own, keeping him occupied. I could see her tiredness though. Or sensed it. Something. I knew I only had moments before he broke past her defenses. For just a moment, I had the thought that he might kill her. I’d dreamed of killing her many times myself. Fantasized about it in the darkest of night. But after today, I wasn’t sure how I felt anymore. She’d never been a mother to me, but suddenly I was certain that if I lost her, I’d be crushed.

I couldn’t let her die.

I dropped my sword and called for the wolf. It leapt forward without hesitation, my muscles bulging and growing, fur sprouting all over my body. My jaw unlocked and extended as massive fangs grew. My jet-black fur blended with the shadows, making me all but invisible as I raced to the side of the cavern.

Then I dug my claws into stone and climbed.

I channeled hellfire into my claws, melting stone and carving handholds as I moved. I clamored up the wall as fast as I could. I watched my mother—Goddess of Hell—and Silaran—a demon powerful enough to challenge Lucifer—wage a battle that shook the ground and threatened to bring down the entire cavern.

I reached the upper curve of the cave’s ceiling, and I glanced over my shoulder. The stalactite hung there, an innocuous hunk of rock that I’d soon use to bring about death. Thirty feet separated me from the hunk of stone. I coiled my legs, taking a deep breath, and then leaped with all my might. I flew through the air, body stretched, claws flexed and ready to catch hold of the cave formation. My nails scratched and scraped the surface while I fought to find purchase, scrabbling for a way to
not
land on Silaran’s head. That was not part of the plan.

I kept sliding, falling, racing toward the end, and one claw finally found a hold. Leaving me dangling by one arm from the stalactite’s tip. With a silent growl, I reached up with my other hand and sank the hellfire heated nails into the rock. I repeated the motion, hand over hand, climbing the cave’s growth. I didn’t stop until I reached the ceiling, the very center of the stalactite’s formation.

I pulled my hand back and then thrust my claw into the stone as hard as I could. I heard cracks and groans that had nothing to do with breaking rock, and pushed past that pain. Instead, I reached into Hell, I called on every flickering flame of hellfire I could find, and channeled it into the stone. It pulsed red, the rock heating and slowly melting. The stalactite shifted and started to pull away from the cavern’s ceiling. I pumped more and more heat until the liquid hot rock poured down on the battling couple below.

I’d done what I could and as the stalactite lost its hold on the rock above, I leaped away. I slammed into the far wall and scraped the uneven surface with my claws as I fell.

Silaran looked up, demonic eyes widening, but it was too late. His distraction let my mother lock his trident with her blade, keeping him from raising it to defend himself. The molten stone rained down on the demon from above, and the massive spear of ageless stone slammed down into him. It drove straight through his chest, slamming him down and pinning him to the ground.

The rest of the stalactite melted away almost instantly, unable to withstand the unholy heat emanating from Silaran’s body. It didn’t kill him, but it threw him off balance long enough for my mother to rush forward. She slammed her shoulder into him, driving him back.

I caught one last look at her, one last glance at my mother in the final moment. There was something in her eyes that I couldn’t comprehend. Something almost like… regret.

Then they tumbled into the portal together. Silaran roared and clawed at the ground, trying to cling to the mortal dimension, but my mother pushed back, driving him into the depths of Hell and the portal snapped shut behind them.

I ran as fast as I could, ignoring my injuries, and my fur melted away as my human form returned fully. I snatched my sword and slashed it across the runes of the ritual circle, melting them away with hellfire. The runes turned dark and the energy faded from the circle. That magic from the portal rumbled through the cavern, dissipating, and the ground shook for a few moments before stopping all together. The molten rock around me slowly cooled and I…

I dropped to my knees. Breathless. My body was covered in burns from heat so intense that even my demonic blood hadn’t been able to withstand it. I was bleeding from multiple wounds. Half of my hair had been burned off. My clothes were in tattered ruins—pixie power failed me. And a foot of my blade had melted away, leaving it as ruined as its twin.

I tossed the sword aside and laid my hands on the scorched ground. It took me a half-dozen breaths before I was ready to rise, but I finally pushed to my feet. I stared at the ruined circle, where my mother had disappeared moments ago.

I couldn’t be sure that I’d see her again. What was happening in Hell right now? Was Silaran… Normally, that would be just fine. We’d never had a relationship. But now… the thought that she might be gone forever filled me with regret. Not for losing what we had. We hadn’t had anything worth holding on to. No, this was regret for what could have been.

The thought that maybe, just maybe, we were forging some kind of connection. A connection that could have led to something like a normal mother-daughter relationship. It was something I wanted more than I’d ever admit. The thought that we might have gotten so close, then lost it, hurt me more than the idea of losing the woman herself.

A knot formed in my throat and I swallowed it down, ignoring the pain of mourning. I wouldn’t mourn. I’d hope. I’d hope that she was still alive down there and maybe the next time I saw her, I wouldn’t be filled with anger and hate.

I glanced around the open space once more, at the blood and gore, the remnants of those dead humans, and what used to be that ritual circle. This place, the entire place, was coming down.

I slowly turned, crossing the cavern back to where I’d left Sam and Jezze. I moved slower than I’d liked and hurt more than a little, but I still walked without a limp. Only dickholes limped. They both lay on the ground, exhausted but alive. Their skin was pale from the strain of fighting off the phantoms, but they were both in better shape than me.

I looked at Jezze and she lifted her arm long enough to give me a thumbs up and then let it flop down to the cavern floor. And that gave me permission to go to Sam.

To Sam who slowly rose to his feet, a forced smile on his lips. What remained of his shirt was tattered and covered in blood and he pulled it off and tossed it aside. I didn’t give him a chance to deny me. I walked until our chests collided, until our fronts were pressed together, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that I’d been fighting pure evil moments ago, I wouldn’t have sensed the change in him—not immediately. But it was there. There in the feel of his skin and the way my body reacted to the changes in his. I traced his bare back, noting the differences, and my breath caught in my throat.

I didn’t say anything to him, just pulled away and forced him to turn, to give me his back.

His back once etched in black was now covered in light gray wings.

Nearly white.

I forced him to turn once more, to face me, and I grabbed his cheeks. I stared into those eyes, those eyes that’d once burned red and now shone a faint, but pure blue.

Not a gel, but not a fallen. My half-fallen mate.