Serpent's Storm (39 page)

“She will die soon,” Sumi said blandly, returning to his feet as he addressed Frank. “And she’s a liability. She could challenge you—and win—and then this would all have been for nothing.”

“But it’s already for nothing,”
a seductive voice called out from the darkness.

Sumi stood at attention, his eyes narrowed as he peered into the shadows, looking for the owner of the voice. Hyacinth came to stand protectively beside him, but Frank, looking like a dog that’d just had its bone taken away, stayed where he was.

“Show yourself,” Sumi commanded, his voice booming into the darkened Hall.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Watatsumi. It’s just little old me.”

And then like a ghost, the Devil glided out of the shadows.

“How are you here?” Sumi said, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” the Devil said as he took off one glove then the other, dropping them onto the floor.

“And who is this lovely lady?” the Devil continued. He walked over to where I lay on the ground, and then, oddly, he knelt beside me. He removed the black silk top hat he was wearing over his slicked-back black hair and slid a silver, lion-headed cane under his arm, bending at the waist so he could look deeply into my eyes.

“This isn’t the delectable Calliope Reaper-Jones, is it? Oh, yes, I do believe that it is.”

I shut my eyes, wanting to disappear, but the Devil set his hand on my forehead and forcefully lifted one eyelid, then the other, checking for God knew what, and then, as if I were a cat, he patted the top of my head and stood.

“She’s been rather a tricky dick,” the Devil said, seemingly amused by the scene he’d stepped into. “But it seems as if you’ve finally accomplished what so many others could not. She’ll be dead within the half hour.

“Well played,” he continued, keeping his voice pleasant—but I noticed his wary eyes never left Sumi’s face.

“We shall see,” Sumi said thoughtfully. “She’s not dead yet.”

The Devil nodded, unclasping the silver lion broach that rested at the base of his throat and letting the black silken cape he wore slither to the floor. He kicked away the sinewy fabric—and the stupid thing flew in my direction, draping itself over my arm. Suddenly, I felt a cooling balm settle over my burning skin, and for the first time in hours, I could take a breath without feeling like I was going to retch. Even my dislocated shoulder stopped aching, although my arm still hung stiffly at my side, my range of motion shot. I didn’t know why the Devil would do me this simple kindness, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth—even though I knew I would invariably end up paying for it somewhere down the line.

“You sent me on a fool’s errand to Hell, Sumi,” the Devil mused. “One I easily quelled, returning the errant souls back inside the Gates where they belonged—it’s just too bad Cerberus and his child had to be destroyed for their insubordination.”

“No!” I cried, forcing myself on to my knees and dragging my body with numb fingers over to where the Devil stood, prostrating myself at his feet. The motion caused my shoulder to slip out of place again and a jagged knife of pain sliced up my arm and into my neck and back.

“Please, tell me you’re lying,” I said, an odd weightless feeling settling over me now that I was no longer underneath the protection of the Devil’s cape. “Swear you didn’t do it. Swear you didn’t hurt them.”

For a moment the Devil looked uncertain, not sure what to make of my protestations, but then he turned away, shooing me back with his foot. I wanted to scream with grief, but there were no tears left inside me; I was drained. Instead, I lay down beside him, utterly spent.

“Go back to where you were, you sniveling fool,” the Devil growled, swatting at me again with his toe—but I was immovable. If Runt was dead, then I deserved to suffer. Her death lay squarely at my feet, because I was the one who’d come up with the idiotic plan that had gotten her killed.

“I said to go back where you came from,” the Devil growled, his eye now on the cape where it lay spread out on the floor, unguarded.

Sumi watched our odd back-and-forth with an attentive eye, suspicion flaring in every synapse.

“Devil,” Sumi said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “Tell me, how is it you hold me accountable for your troubles in Hell, when you know very well the real culprit lies there at your feet.”

The Devil froze, his toe pointed in my direction, but then quickly regained his composure.

“I know no such thing,” he said sullenly.

“
You
are no Devil,” Sumi said, shaking his head. “Merely the Devil’s protégé.”

The glamour instantly fell away and Daniel stood above me, his face fierce with anger. I was in shock . . . If this was really Daniel, then what about Cerberus and Runt? Were they okay? Was Hell still the Devil’s domain or had the revolt worked? A myriad of possibilities, all of them positive, swam before my eyes.

“Get back under the cape, Calliope,” Daniel instructed—and his voice brooked no argument.

Using my good arm, I dragged myself back to the cape, but just as my fingers grazed the silken material, the thing was whisked away from my grasp. Spent, I watched as, with a flourish, Father McGee draped the silken cloth over his own bony shoulders, triumphant in his return.

Left with no further hope of salvation, I knew that now only imminent death remained.

“You bastard!” I screamed, rage consuming every inch of me. I started crawling, bad arm and all, over to where Father McGee stood gloating—my cape, my salvation, wrapped around his torso.

I threw myself at his feet, biting into the top of his sockless foot, my teeth tearing into the soft flesh with a ferocity I didn’t know I possessed. As my teeth sank into bone and sinew, a spurt of thick, warm blood shot into my mouth and I almost gagged. By sheer force of will, I held on to my prize, channeling all my anger into ripping his foot apart as I ignored the salty taste of blood.

“Stop it, you dog!” he screamed, attempting to shake me off, but only managing to trip himself up, so that, off balance, he stumbled backward, arms waving like windmills. I wrapped my good arm around his ankle and yank his bloodied foot out from underneath him, sending him sprawling onto his back. Dragging my broken body on top of him, so he was pinned underneath my weight, I leaned in as close as I could and whispered into his ear:

“I wish you dead.”

I didn’t know if it would work. I thought there might be a slim chance it might, but in truth, I was really hoping for a miracle.

At first, Father McGee just stared at me, disgusted by the sight of his own blood smeared across my lips, but then, something amazing happened: His eyes flared, the whites so pronounced I could see where they rounded into his eye sockets, and he shuddered once, then lay still beneath me, all the heat dissipating from his body in death. I wrenched the cape from his dead shoulders and bundled myself inside the safety of its silken folds. I didn’t know what magic the cape possessed, but I hoped it was powerful enough to keep the promethium from dealing its final, deathly blow.

I stuck my hand into the dead priest’s clothes, extracting the strange wormhole-calling device from the depths of one of his pockets. I ran my hand over its screen and the thing sprang to life, a series of numerical buttons lighting up beneath my fingertips. I knew I needed to unblock the wormholes, but I didn’t know how. But before I could attempt any trial-and-error tinkering, a heavy body smashed into mine, my head cracking against the stone tile floor as shooting stars of pain bloomed inside my brain. As I lay sprawled on the floor, I saw two tiny Asian women in Victorian garb chasing Father McGee’s soul as it looped around the room. I wondered if Daniel and Frank could see the little ladies—but then a meaty fist slammed into my nose, changing the subject of my inner monologue. Dazed by the punch, I felt Hyacinth’s enormous girth straddle me, compressing my lungs into pancakes so that I could barely draw a breath.

“Get off me, you bitch.” I groaned, driving my fist into what I hoped was the hollow of her throat. To my surprise, the weight constricting my chest eased and I could breathe again. I opened my eyes, my nose smarting where Hyacinth’s punch had snapped the nasal bone, and saw the Amazonian woman listing above me like a giant ship, her hands clutching her throat. I tried to drag myself out from under her, but she grimaced, and releasing her damaged neck as she grunted in pain, she made a grab for the wormhole-calling device in my hand, knocking it from my grasp so that it skittered across the floor, crashing into the leg of Tanuki’s desk.

“Dammit,” I growled. “Get off me!”

“You’re stuck, bug,” she laughed, pressing her hands into my chest in order to crack my sternum. Hyacinth wasn’t wrong. I did feel like a bug, pinned and wriggling on a piece of wood.

“I wish you dead,” I rasped, even though I knew it wouldn’t work on an immortal like Hyacinth. Amused by my pathetic attempts to save myself, she relaxed her grip on my chest, allowing me just enough room to drag my right arm out from beneath her fleshy thigh, wriggling back with my shoulders and hips, until she was astride my waist instead of my torso. With as much forward motion as I could muster, I drove my curled fist into one of her massive breasts, the impact crushing mammary and rib cage like they were made of butter. I saw Hyacinth’s eyes cross in astonishment as she slumped onto her side, clutching her injured breast.

Across the Hall, I saw Daniel and Frank locked in intense battle, each clawing at the other as if they could shred flesh with their bare fingers. I was pleased to see Daniel had the upper hand, but I didn’t dare do anything to distract him, so I swallowed the cry for help that’d been brewing in my throat and took a deep breath. Wiggling my legs, I extracted myself from underneath Hyacinth’s muscled bulk. Freed from my former boss’s meaty embrace, I began crawling over to the desk. I could see the silvery glint of the wormhole-calling device where it lay underneath the desk leg, but as I stretched out my fingers to grasp it, Sumi’s bare foot slammed down on my hand, splintering the delicate metacarpals into transverse sections of broken bone. I screamed as he ground his heel into my wounded hand, then bent down and plucked the device out of my grasp.

He turned to go, and I did the only thing I could think of to stop him from getting away—I bit down on his foot, sinking my teeth into the hard, calloused skin, which, I had to say, tasted an awful lot like old rubbery eel. Because of the horned nature of his skin, I couldn’t get as good a grip on Sumi’s foot as I had on Father McGee’s, but I still managed to inflict enough pain that he dropped the device. Ripping his foot away from my snapping jaws, he took a step back, then made a halfhearted attempt to kick my head in. I rolled away, scooping up the device in my good hand. I gritted my teeth as pain flooded into my bad shoulder.

“You cannot work the machine,” Sumi said, blood pooling on the floor from his abraded foot. “Give it to me and I will show you the trick.”

“Ha!” I replied, crawling to my feet. “Like I can trust you. You’ll just double cross me like you double crossed everyone else.”

“Suit yourself,” Sumi said, bowing his head in what looked like prayer—but then the old man lifted his head and screamed, charging at me like a mad bull.

Instantly, his flesh fell away and his human body elongated, rippling and swelling as he shifted into the massive, red-hued Sea Serpent I’d ridden on in the ocean. Every cell in my body screamed at me to run, that the monster was going to crush me like a bug, but I held my ground—I wasn’t about to leave Daniel alone to deal with Sumi
and
Frank by himself.

I want to be big like Sumi,
I thought, desperately, squeezing my eyes shut and praying the jewel still had some juice left in it—but when, after a few moments, nothing had happened, I knew the promethium had obliterated the jewel’s powers, leaving me no way to fight back against Sumi’s monstrous new body.

With his transformation now complete, Sumi roared, the sound raising the hackles on the back of my neck as his crystalline eyes narrowed warily at me, showing his displeasure. I took an involuntary step backward, then another and another as the monster lowered its head and hissed, a fiery plume of smoke barreling toward me. I threw myself to the side, trying to escape the fire’s wrath, but instead I lost my balance and fell forward onto my knees. Father McGee’s strange device flew from my hand, and I watched, horrified, as it shattered into a zillion tiny pieces on the cold limestone floor.

My heart leapt into my throat as I realized that all was lost, but then, to my shock, I heard a static burst as the room suddenly became awash in the glow of a thousand wormholes flickering into being and filling the darkness—the blockade on wormhole travel in and out of Death, Inc., destroyed along with the device.

Suddenly, I found myself surrounded by Kali, Indra, and Runt.

“White girl, you look like shit,” Kali said as she and Indra encircled me protectively, both holding bloodied weapons in their hands. Not wanting to be left out, Runt nuzzled up against me, licking my broken hand with her scratchy tongue.

“You’re alive,” I said, bending down and kissing the top of the hellhound pup’s head. “I thought the revolt in Hell had failed, that the Devil had killed you.”

Runt wagged her tail.

“The opposite, Callie,” she said. “We won. Jarvis and Dad and your Death soldiers kicked some serious butt. Dad’s beside himself with happiness; he’s got the Devil and the Jackal Brothers guarding the North Gate of Hell in his stead. It’s great!”

“I’m so glad,” I said, automatically, scratching behind the pup’s ears, while I distractedly searched the room for Sumi.

He’d been in sea serpent form when the device had been destroyed, so he shouldn’t have been hard to spot, but after scanning the room twice with no luck, I had to accept the fact that he was gone, probably having shifted back into his human body and escaped in the flurry of activity that’d consumed the Hall when the wormhole restriction had been lifted. Still, I had a funny feeling this wouldn’t be the last time I tangled with the mischievous Japanese Sea God—