In the Demon's Company (Demon's Assistant Book 2) (26 page)

Azmos physically recoils at the words. “Speak English,” he demands.

A small crack appears in the carefully polished veneer of Vessa’s face but she recovers and says, “It’s been too long, brother.”

“I thought you were dead,” Azmos says. “I believed they had killed you, so I fled to this world.”

“They thought they could contain me.” She snorts in derision. “Fools. But it’s fitting. They designed their own destruction by letting me live. And now I shall make this tribe of humans into my eternal servants. You can rule beside me and we will be worshiped as we deserve. All you need to do is bow to me and then make a gesture of loyalty.”

I shiver. I doubt I’ll like what any gesture of loyalty might entail.

“Vessa,” Azmos says, his voice so low I can barely hear it. “You’re using too much magic. It’s throwing off the balance between the realm of the living and the realm of the dead. It’s puncturing holes. The Spirit Realm could break open.”

There’s a fraction of a second where I think maybe he’s gotten through to her. Her eyebrows go up. She looks thoughtful. But then she laughs and the moment crumbles. “A fairy tale. Besides, some collateral damage is unfortunately necessary,” she says, as though it’s perfectly reasonable. Azmos takes a single step back. “They’ve wronged our kind, my brother. They’ve slaughtered most of our kin in a malicious genocide. They fear our power so they lie about its consequences. I’ve built an army, Azmos, and I will rule these lowly monkey-men. And you can rule beside me. Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Azmos says. “Our magic must be tempered, rationed.”

“No. Our power isn’t dangerous. They know we’re meant to rule them and they try to oppress us. But they cannot keep gods bound in chains. Especially when we work together.”

“The Moritas will hunt us down before long,” Azmos says.

Vessa laughs. “The Moritas cannot touch me if I amass an army big enough. I’ll always have a front line to sacrifice themselves for the cause. And I will have such an army, very soon. Then we can destroy the Moritas and the Vacuus Realm.” She pauses, lifting a blue fingernail to her chin. “Of course, I’d have that army already but someone has been playing vigilante, destroying my soldiers.” She tuts, like she’s scolding a child, and looks at me, eyes hard. Wait, she thinks
I’m
the one who’s been downing her soldiers? I’m floored she thinks I’m capable of that, but also a little bit flattered. A compliment from a deranged demon is still a compliment, right?

Her gaze moves behind me and out the door, where one of her guard’s bodies is clearly visible on the porch. “I’ll even forgive you for the soldiers you sacrificed now. After all,” she says, starting down the stairs, the burly man on her heels, “you’ve brought replacements with you.”

My blood curdles in my veins, turning to sludge as my heart pounds. She stops in front of us but keeps a safe distance of several yards.

“No doubt your loyal servants,” she looks me over and then turns her appraisal on Gabriel, who shudders, hand on the hilt of his sword, “are ready and willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.”

Gabriel mutters something I think is ‘bat shit.’

“My companions needn’t be bound to me to stand by my side,” Azmos says, his tone a little haughty. Vessa picks up on it and her smile fades. She gestures to the Burly Guard, who says something into a wrist cuff.

Four more of her ragtag army rush down the stairs. Two of them wear jeans, another is in pink surgical scrubs. The third is a man in a postal service uniform. Two of them have guns. Two have swords.

“Disarm them,” Vessa orders. She glances behind her, toward an archway that leads to a room with windows that open on a backyard. She looks disturbed. If there were guards outside she’s expecting, no doubt Xanan has gotten to them already.

One of the guards with a gun, the woman in scrubs, aims her gun at me. Her brown hair is greasy and there are bags under her eyes. There’s a white tooth embroidered on the chest of her scrubs, so I’m guessing she’s a dentist or works for one. “Grab her!” she tells Cam.

“He’s a traitor,” Vessa says. “Dispatch him. He’s no longer needed.”

The barrel of the gun moves from my head to Cam’s. The woman’s hand shakes but she’s only feet away so it doesn’t matter how bad her aim is. It’s not like she can miss. Out of my periphery, I see the other gunman is aiming at Gabriel, who sets his sword down at his feet and puts his hands up.

The woman’s finger hovers by the trigger. “A traitor?” she whispers, her brow furrowing as if she doesn’t understand the concept. Like Kai back in the apartment, she thinks disobeying isn’t even possible.

“We don’t have to obey her,” Cam says, barely about a whisper.

The woman hesitates. She turns the gun around. It almost looks like she’s going to hand it to him. She whispers, “Sorry,” and then smacks his skull with the back handle of the gun. Cam falls into her arms and she gently lays him down on the marble floor.

“I said shoot him!” Vessa yells.

“He’s down,” the woman says meekly.

“Shoot him in the forehead or I will finish you,” Vessa commands.

The woman moves slowly, clearly not wanting to obey, but she turns the gun around and aims it at his head as he lies there, helpless and unconscious. My brain reels, spinning like a tornado until it catches on a kernel of a plan.

“Wait!” I shout, blood pulsing in my veins. “You’re right.”

Vessa blinks at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gabriel giving me a curious look.

“I’m happy to be a demon’s servant, even bound by magic,” I say. “But my loyalty is to Azmos. I want him to be the one to do it. And you have to let Cam live.”

“Fine,” Vessa says. The woman in scrubs loosens her grip on the gun and drops it to her side. She looks relieved.

Azmos glances back at me wearing a troubled expression. I ignore him. Holding my hands over my head like I’m in the middle of a stick-up, I move past the woman with the gun. I stand next to Azmos. Vessa is only feet in front of me and being this close to her makes every cell in my body shake with fear.

Vessa’s smile is patient as she looks at her brother, the smile of someone indulging a small child. “Well, Azmos?” she asks. “This will serve as an act of fealty.” She puts her hand out to Burly Guard, who pulls a knife from his belt and hands it to her. It’s big, a machete, the kind the serial killer in a slash flick would walk around dismembering people with. Bile crawls up my throat. My heart is beating so fast I’m practically vibrating. She takes it in her hand, her painted blue fingernails curling around its hilt. She smiles at it affectionately, as if it’s a pet, and then she extends it out in front of her. “Prove your loyalty to me by pulling your dear assistant under your power.”

Azmos takes the knife. He swallows uncomfortably. “Do you really require a sacrifice when we are bonded by blood?” Azmos asks.

“Stop stalling,” she says. Her eyes are hungry, predatory. She licks her lips. I shiver. Blood thrums in my ears like distant drums banging without a rhythm. I put my arms at my sides, facing Azmos, my dagger on the side opposite of Vessa. I unsnap the sheath. Then I pull my sweater up slightly and curl my fingers around the hilt.

“Go on,” I say. The woman in scrubs’ gun has gone slack as she waits to see what will happen, but there’s still a gun trained on Gabriel.

Azmos gestures me forward with a flick of his fingers. I step toward him. He puts the tip of the blade beneath my chin, his eyes urging me to explain or act quickly. My fingers hold the dagger so tightly my hand might cramp.

Someone swears. It’s one of the swordsmen. At first I think he saw my dagger and that I’m dead. Plan foiled. Vessa will reach out and break my neck. But then I catch sight of Xanan. He walks in through the back room and drops the first swordsman to the ground before they can react.

“Moritas,” Vessa whispers in disbelief. “No, it’s not possible. They haven’t found you in this realm. How could they find me?”

“They did find me, Vessa,” Azmos says. “And I struck a bargain with this one.”

“You brought a Moritas here!” Vessa’s eyes widen as understanding dawns on her. “You’re working for them? Are you truly such a suicidal fool?”

“He’s not with them. He’s a friend of mine.”

Vessa spits. “Impossible. The Moritas live to destroy us. We are destined to be enemies. You’ve doomed us both.” She points at Xanan. “Stop him!” she orders. Both guns swing toward Xanan, who grabs the other guy with the sword and drops his body to the ground.

The woman in pink scrubs makes a strangled scream and fires her gun at Xanan’s torso. The bullet smacks him in the chest and he doesn’t even flinch. The other gunman shoots Gabriel in the arm before turning his gun toward Xanan. Gabriel grabs his arm with a groan of pain and collapses to his knees. In the chaos, I ease my dagger out of the sheath and hold it tightly at my side, hopefully unnoticed. The gunman is a terrible shot and misses Xanan except for once, when he hits him in the leg. It doesn’t slow Xanan down. Thankfully, Vessa isn’t that kind of demon, or she’d be near impossible to kill.

Vessa reaches out for Azmos, who dodges her fingers and steps backward, the machete swiping the air but missing her. I step in front of him. A brief moment of confusion crosses Vessa’s face and she opens her mouth, probably to ask what a mortal like me hopes to do. I don’t give her the opportunity. I take the smallest of shaking breaths, feeling tears hot in my eyes. This might very well kill Cam, too. But she has to be stopped.

I thrust the dagger into her chest. The blade scrapes against her bones as it sinks through her flesh. My palm is too slick with sweat and I lose my grip on it as she falls backward and then rocks forward, hitting the ground on her knees. She tries to speak but coughs and blood spatters from her lips. I was aiming for her heart, assuming it’s the same place as a human’s would be. I may have missed but I clearly punctured something vital.

The woman in scrubs drops her gun and throws up her hands. “I surrender!” she says.

Xanan grabs her arm and she falls dead to the floor with a thud.

Burly stares down at his boss in disbelief. He growls and turns toward me. Azmos holds up the machete and keeps him at bay until Xanan can bound across the room and grab him, and then he, too, drops to the ground with a thud.

Acid coats my tongue. The room smells like copper and sweat. My heart is still a jackhammer against my ribs.

Vessa sputters but pays no attention to her fallen guards. Her blue lizard eyes are glassy. But she’s still alive. She claws at Azmos’ jacket weakly as if scrambling for purchase. He stares down at her like he’s never seen anything so vile, but there’s hurt in his expression, too. Grief.

My boot slides on the slick marble floor and I nearly smack into the last gunman, who’s standing there, baffled and unsure as Xanan comes toward him. He frowns slightly, like I bumped into him on the sidewalk and he’s mildly annoyed. He’s in shock, I decide. I will be, too, soon enough. But right now, I only care about one thing.

I run back to Cam, my boots slipping on the bloody marble.

I feel for his pulse like we learned how to do in gym class last year. It’s faint but it’s there. His chest moves and up down almost imperceptibly. But he won’t wake up when I shake him or call his name. Tears run hot down my cheeks and splash onto his green shirt.

He’s alive for the moment, but only just.

Gabriel gets to his feet, cradling his wounded arm. He manages to get his sword back in his hilt and stumble to Azmos. Gabriel gestures to the machete in Az’s hand and says something in soft tones. Azmos stares at it like it’s a snake. Vessa is at his feet, the dagger sticking through her heart. She keeps trying to talk but all that comes out are gargling noises. Blood drips from her mouth and dribbles over her chest, a dark stain on the black corset.

Azmos raises the machete.

“No!” I call. They both look at me and then down at Cam. “He’s still alive. Can’t we…” I shake my head, trying to think. There has to be something. If all the magic in the world can’t save someone from this fate, what good is it? “We can trap her again, keep her alive so that Cam lives and—”

“Nicolette,” Azmos says. He sounds impossibly sad, worn down to his last nerve. “There is no way to save one who’s already dead. Not in the way you want.”

I stare at him. His words are like a riddle I can’t solve. And then he glances over at Xanan, a tall, pale vessel of death. Something passes between them, an unspoken argument. Xanan sighs and the air puffs out in front of him, a cloud of ice.

Xanan steps forward and bends down beside me. I cling to Cam and shake my head. Why bother to kill him now when he’ll die as soon as Vessa does? But Xanan doesn’t reach for Cam. He reaches for me. His cold hand settles on the back of my neck, ice on my spine.

“I cannot give him his life back,” Xanan says. “But I can offer him a different one. Moritas are, as I told you, wardens of death. We ferry souls to the other side. We keep the balance between realms. Cameron’s spirit belongs to the Spirit Realm now. But he can keep it if he becomes like me.”