The Crossing (Immortals) (38 page)

"If I lose, Artemis and her son will go to the human
world. I will stay in Hell."

A smile played on Malachi's lips. "Then let us fight, by
all means. Life against death. There can be only one outcome. Death cannot be denied."

Saraid's words again.

"Mac, no." Artemis's whisper was fierce. "This isn't
your fight."

He spoke without turning. "Stay out of this, love."

"No."

Malachi laughed. "Why not let your whore fight for
you? It may delay the inevita-"

The demon's words were lost in a fire blaze, as Mac
landed a ball of elfshot in his handsome, leering face.
Building on the advantage, he drilled another shot into
Malachi's stomach.

Malachi screamed his rage. Flames erupted from his
fingers. A sizzling stream of hellfire struck Mac's right
shoulder. Cursing, Mac countered the attack. But Malachi had recovered quickly from Mac's opening maneuvers.
The demon advanced, gazing death into Mac's face. When
the next assault came, it was all Mac could do to hold his
defensive position in front of Artemis.

And then things went from bad to worse.

Malachi spoke a word; the air behind him ripped in two.
"Come," the demon commanded.

The tear widened. Mac recognized the first demon to
emerge from the portal-the bouncer from Shadowhaven.
Travis the cowboy came next, tipping his ten-gallon hat. A
small, implike demon with a curved tail rode on his
shoulder-the little blighter blew a kiss at Mac, then gave
him the finger. More of Malachi's thralls followed-strong
demons and lesser ones, human demonwhores, and even a
few undead.

Malachi faced Mac with a broad smile. "My army. Defeat them, and you may leave Hell with your whore. Fall
to them, and become my slave for all eternity."

Mac's stomach clenched. He could never defeat such a
throng. Not here in Hell. Not even with Artemis's help.

"What's the matter, Malachi?" he taunted. "Afraid to
fight your own battles?"

Malachi's eyes blazed. "You tricked me once, Mac Lir.
Never again."

Mac felt Artemis trembling at his side. He eased her behind him. The odds were firmly against them. Much as he
loathed the thought, Artemis would have to fight.

He met her gaze. "Ready, love?"

She nodded. He readied for the first wave of attack.

Malachi waved his army forward. "Go!"

Mac tensed. But not one demon moved.

Malachi rounded on his thralls. "Well? Get on with it!
Now! Attack the immortal!"

The cowboy and bouncer demons exchanged glances.
Travis shuffled a step forward, hat in hand. "Well, now,
Malachi, about that? We're not so sure..."

Malachi released an oath and a bolt of hellfire. Travis's
boots danced.

And one final figure stepped from the portal.

A woman. A slender red-haired wraith.

Leanna.

Mac stared at his sister. She was dressed in vaguely medieval garb-tunic, breeches, and knee-high boots, with
chain mail and a hammered breastplate covering her torso.
Her red hair was slicked back, showing her pointed ears.
Advancing, she came to stand between the cowboy and the
bouncer.

She smiled. "Hello, Malachi."

"Seize her," Malachi snarled.

Neither the cowboy nor the bouncer moved.

Leanna's gray eyes glinted. "They no longer answer
to you."

"That's right," Travis drawled. "That's what I was about
to tell y'all. Drager and I... well, shucks, ain't no pretty
way to say it. Truth is, we've decided to go our own way.
And take all your thralls with us."

"Damn right," the little demon on his shoulder
chipped in.

"You've cast your lot with a pitiful, half-Sidhe demonwhore?" Disbelief rang in Malachi's voice.

"Well, ya see," Travis said, "there's those of us been
thinking for a while now that a change in management in
Shadowhaven would be a good thing."

Malachi snorted. "And you, Drager?" he demanded of
the bouncer. "You've joined this slack-witted slug?"

"Yeah," Drager grunted. He lowered his beefy arms. "I
have."

Malachi's voice was deadly soft. "Traitors. I will destroy
you utterly. Right here. Right now."

He launched a ball of hellfire. Leanna and her unlikely
allies inet the attack together. The fire fizzled even before
it struck.

Leanna laughed. "Looks like your little empire is crumbling, Malachi. It was rotten at the core, after all. That's
what happens when you reward loyalty with pain and humiliation."

"Demonwhore." Malachi hissed the word. "You dare
challenge your master?"

"You're not my master anymore."

A blast of hellfire punctuated the declaration. The bolt
struck Malachi in the chest; the demon staggered backward. Recovering quickly, he flicked a finger and returned
the attack. But with Travis and Drager intercepting, the
blast was neatly put down.

Malachi let out a snarl. Black smoke swirled from beneath his feet. His arms rose, and the stone platform
trembled. Brimstone fell like hail. The lesser demons, arrayed behind their leaders, traded nervous glances.

"I give you one chance to choose," Malachi told his minions. "Fight for me, or for these pitiful upstarts. But beware.
There will be no mercy for any who stand against me."

Mac tugged Artemis into the shelter of Ptolomaea's
archway. Quickly, he cast a circle of protection around
her. "Stay here," he told her. "No matter what happens.
This is going to get ugly. I've got to help Leanna."

"Mac-"

He silenced her with a look. "No arguments, Artemis."

She pursed her lips, then nodded. "Be careful. Remember, you're only half a god."

He quirked a smile. "I rarely forget it, love."

About a third of the demons glided to Malachi's side.
The rest aligned themselves behind Leanna and her demon
partners. Malachi watched the dispersal with hawk's eyes.
He seemed to have forgotten all about Mac and Artemis.
Mac liked that just fine.

A blast was fired-Mac wasn't sure which side started
the fight. It hardly mattered; the next instant, pure chaos
erupted. Mac, working from within his own circle of pro tection, sent beams of elfshot to aid Leanna's cause, but he
dared not stray too far from Artemis, for fear Malachi or
one of his minions would attack the protections he'd
placed around her.

The scene disintegrated into smoke and fire. Grunts,
shouts, and curses. A howl of defeat was followed by the
sound of a body splashing into lava. The battle raged,
shaking the ledge upon which they stood. At any moment,
Mac expected the entire platform to disintegrate into
dust, pitching them all into the pit.

Slowly, more and more of the lesser demons defected to
Travis and Drager. If the tide maintained its shift, soon
Malachi would be fighting alone.

The Old One knew it; he tried to morph into mist, but
the transformation didn't take. Desperate, he made a run
for the portal leading to Shadowhaven. With a curse,
Leanna ran to intercept him. Mac caught a glimpse of her
red hair as she dashed through the thick of the fray, cutting off Malachi's path of escape.

Mac plunged after her.

She cornered the Old One-suit torn, face bloodied,
hair gone wild-in front of the lava pit. Malachi's human
guise wavered. As Mac watched in disgust, the demon's
virile form and handsome face melted into a squat reptile
body and bulbous head. A flattened snout breathed fire.
But after an initial blast, the flames sputtered and died.

Leanna pressed forward, forcing her former master to
the very edge of the platform. One backward step would
drop him into boiling lava. Malachi curled his spiked tail
around an outcropping of rock.

A blast of hellfire landed at his front feet. The demon
skittered back, the rear half of his lizard body skidding
over the ledge.

"Here are your choices," Leanna said. "Jump. Or be
pushed."

Mac came to stand at his sister's side. Her face was streaked with soot, a gash on her right arm was bleeding
freely, and her hair was a tangled mess. But triumph blazed
in her eyes.

"Sounds like a fine choice," he said.

Malachi's eyes burned. His snout opened. A forked
tongue emerged, bearing rasping human words. "You don't
want this, Leanna."

"Oh, I find that I do."

"No. Remember the pleasure I'm able to give. I offer
that to you-on your own terms. Enslave me. Use me. I'll
service you gladly, in any guise you wish."

Disgust shuddered through Leanna's body. "I find I've
lost my taste for slavery. In any form."

"Not slavery. Pleasure. Freedom."

"Jump," Leanna commanded, taking a step forward.

Red eyes gleamed. "No. If I'm to die, I want to feel
your hands on me one last time...." He smiled. "Push
me, my whore."

With a snarl, Leanna lunged, a kick aimed at Malachi's
hideous face. The Old One's tail whipped toward her.

"Leanna! No!" Mac sprang for his sister, but his warning came too late. His fingers snatched air as the demon
yanked Leanna out of Mac's reach.

"Nooooo! Mac, help!"

Demon and woman vanished over the edge of the platform.

Mac threw himself after them.

"Mac!"

Artemis launched herself toward the empty ledge. The
distance seemed immense, her limbs moving in slow motion, her lungs squeezing against oxygen-sucking panic.
She stumbled as she reached the edge, nearly pitching over
it into the blinding heat. Only Travis's hot grip on her arm
prevented her from falling.

She blinked up at the cowboy demon. "What-?"

"Won't do y'all any good to throw yourself after your
lover, sweet thang." Travis's thick brows waggled. "Not
when there are so many of us shy fellows willing to take
his filly for a ride, if ya'11 know what I mean."

A sharp retort died on her lips. He was lewd, but his
eyes looked... kind? She gave her head a shake. She was
losing it, big time. "Let me go. I need to-"

His grip didn't loosen. "Ain't nothing down there y'all
want to see, sugar, I can tell you that right now. Best come
with me and the rest of the crew." He nodded to the shimmering portal, into which Malachi's former thralls, guided
by Drager, were disappearing one by one. "We'll sort
everything out upstairs." He raised his voice. "Dollar
blackjack and drinks on the house!"

The demon army cheered. Travis tugged her farther
from the edge of the pit.

"Thank you, but no," Artemis said through gritted teeth. She tried to hobble a few words together for a spell, but
she couldn't reach through her fatigue to her magic. "Let.
Me. Go."

Cowboy grinned and wrapped his arm around her
shoulder. "Ah, come, now, sugar. Is that any way to treat
the demon who saved you from an eternity in Hell?"

"You had your own reasons for going after Malachi."

"That's sure 'nuff the truth, little lady, but that don't
mean y'all didn't benefit. Why, I-"

"The lady said no, cowboy. Is there a part of that word
you don't understand? Let her go."

Travis's head jerked up. His red eyes flashed with fear as
he eyed a point past Artemis's head. His grip loosened.
"Sure thing, friend. She's all yours."

Artemis's heart stalled. Slowly, not wanting to risk shattering the hallucination, she turned.

"Mac." The single word-a name, a question, and a
prayer of gratitude all at once-was all she could utter. He
stood before her, his golden hair a halo against the flames
leaping from the pit behind him. He was alive and-as far
as she could see-unharmed.

The same couldn't be said of Leanna. Her body hung
limp in Mac's arms. Angry burns blistered her lower extremities.

"Gods. Is she-"

"No," he said sharply. "At least, not yet." Kneeling, he
laid his sister gently on the ground. "Little idiot," he murmured. "I don't believe you came back for me."

Leanna's eyelids fluttered, but didn't open. "Couldn't...
let... my big brother... have all the fun. Now... can
die... in peace."

"You're not going to die, Leanna. I'm getting you out of
here."

Artemis glanced toward the portal to Shadowhaven.
The last of the lesser demons had disappeared through it.
Only Travis, Drager, and Angel remained.

"Take her to Malachi's realm," Artemis told Mac. "You
can reach the human world from there."

Mac raised his head. "I will. Once we open Ptolomaea
and rescue Zander."

Travis and Drager exchanged glances. Angel started
chuckling.

Artemis glared at the little demon. "What's so funny?"

"Open the gates of Ptolomaea?" he chortled. "That's
the funniest thing I've heard in centuries!"

Y•

"Only an Old One can open Ptolomaea. But most Old
Ones don't even want to, because whoever controls Ptolomaea has to deal with..." He sent a meaningful glance to
the second, silent archway. "Him."

"Satan," Drager clarified. "Ptolomaea's master becomes
the devil's consort. And let me tell you, Lucifer's tastes
are... deviant... even for a demon. Hecate might have
enjoyed that sort of thing, but as for me... even if I were
an Old One, an eternity of life essence couldn't persuade
me to become Satan's bitch."