The Flame Never Dies (14 page)

No wonder the Church didn't want people to travel very far beyond its walled cities. They couldn't afford for us to know about Pandemonia, nor could they afford to lose any of their human cattle to Kastor.

When I gasped at the latest cut in my arm, Meshara glanced at me with a frown.

“I still have to pee,” I said, and before she could question my bladder as the source of my pain, I changed the subject. “So, what's the plan when we get to Pandemonia? I'm assuming if you were going to possess me, you would have already tried.”

“I would have already succeeded
.
” She reached back between the front seats, and the car swerved while she felt around for something I couldn't see. “I could have taken you while you slept, just like I took your sister.”

“Watch out!” I shouted, and she looked up just in time to swerve around a long-stalled minivan on the side of the road. Meshara held a snack-sized bag of cayenne-flavored peanuts, the last from a box no one but Reese could stand to eat because they were so hot. She ripped the bag open with her teeth and dumped an eighth of the contents into her mouth.

Mellie would have been crying from the heat, but Meshara looked disgusted as she chewed. “Cayenne, my ass. False advertising is what that is. These have
no
flavor.” She dropped the bag into the center console, and red-powdered nuts spilled into the empty drink holder. “I can't
wait
to get out of this body. Nothing feels right. Nothing tastes right. Nothing even looks right.” She leaned forward to peer over the steering wheel at the sky. “Is it getting cloudy? Why does everything look so…dull?”

I glanced out the window and found only a few wispy white clouds. “The windshield's tinted at the top. So, why
didn't
you possess me?” I asked. “Why go for a pregnant human who may or may not survive childbirth when you could have had a healthy exorcist body, which will last much longer?” When her jaw clenched and she stopped talking for the first time in
hours,
I understood what she wasn't saying. “You don't have enough rank to claim an exorcist host, do you? Why would you go to this much trouble for Kastor if he won't let you profit?”

“If this errand is successful and I survive, I will have my choice from a selection of beautiful young bodies that have
not
been stretched and weakened and
dulled
by pregnancy.” Meshara laid one hand on Melanie's belly, and I wanted to rip her entire arm off. “Anything I want from the stables. Kastor gave his word,” she said as we passed another highway mileage sign.

Neither Finn nor Maddock had been willing to talk about geography in any way associated with Pandemonia, so in the interest of avoiding the demon city in future travels, I'd borrowed a very old, very well-worn map from Brother Isaiah. It had taken me two hours to memorize all the highways leading to Colorado Springs, as well as the names of several of the nearby towns.

“And something about the fact that he's a soulless monster makes you think he can be trusted?” I eyed a faded sign lying in the middle of the exit lane, its pole bent almost in half.

Oakley, Kansas.
Prewar geography had never been my best subject, but that was enough to tell me we hadn't hit Colorado yet.

“The fact that he wants to maintain his control of the city means I can believe him. Unfulfilled promises lead to revolt, which is how he came into power in the first place,” Meshara said. “If Kastor says I get a new body, I get a new body. And that day can't come fast enough.” She squinted at the road. “Is your sister nearsighted?”

“No.” But
I
had a mild case of myopia. “So what kind of hoops does a demon have to jump through to earn an exorcist as a host? I mean, who'll be wearing Nina Kane next season?”

“What?” She squinted at the road as if I were nothing more than a fly buzzing near her ear. “Mumbling is a sign of low self-confidence. Speak up.”

“What's going to happen to me when we get to Pandemonia?” I repeated, each syllable exaggerated and loud. Pregnancy shouldn't have affected her hearing. Surely she was just trying to scare me.

“Oh. He'll either auction you off or give you away as a political favor,” she said as if the details didn't truly matter, and my stomach began to churn. “But—” Meshara frowned and glanced down at her stomach, where her left hand still rested. “This thing's kicking hard enough to bump my fingers, but I can't feel the movements from inside. Is that normal?”

“I don't think so.” I frowned and sat straighter, anxiously trying to assess the problem without access to my hands or any medical knowledge whatsoever. “Melanie could definitely feel the baby kicking.”

Meshara shrugged and returned both hands to the wheel, her pale brows drawn low.

“If I actually gave a damn, I might postulate that your sister felt what she wanted to feel—you know, because she
cared
—and I don't feel what I don't want to feel. Because I don't really give a shit about your little niece or nephew, beyond its value to me as a human shield.”

The truth of that statement made me shake with fear and burn with rage. I could
not
let her get back to Pandemonia, because when she abandoned Mellie for a new form, my sister's body would die and the baby would die along with it.

As best I could tell, Meshara was driving west on what was once Interstate 70, and if her speedometer and my estimates were anywhere near accurate, she'd covered more distance in a single day of driving than we'd managed in the past five days of traveling with the Lord's Army, mostly because—as Reese had pointed out—cars could go faster than horses and they didn't have to stop to eat or rest.

We were already too close to Pandemonia for comfort.

“But I thought the whole reason you guys possess human bodies is to experience things a demon can't in its natural form.”

The demon tilted her head—a decidedly human gesture—and seemed to be giving the question serious thought. “Well, yes, in the sense that we can't experience
anything
in our natural form. We have no sight and very little sound, and absolutely no taste whatsoever. Our sense of touch is limited to pressure, which means we can tell when we bump into something or someone, but that's it. There's no pleasure. No pain. We literally spend eternity crawling around, experiencing nothing.”

Which was why our world drew demons like bugs to a porch light. The human form was like a sensory buffet laid out before a child who'd never eaten.

An evil child with no self-control.

Meshara squinted as she guided the SUV off the road to avoid a fallen tree, rotting across all four lanes of cracked pavement. “But we have individual tastes, just like your people,” she continued. “Some like to eat—you should
see
some of the gluttons waddling around Pandemonia—and some like music. Some live to dance, some stare at bright colors all day long, and we have an entire faction dedicated to wearing interesting and stimulating fabrics.”

She glanced at me as she pulled the car back onto the road, bumping over an unseen chunk of concrete in the process. “And, of course, we have several distinct groups of masochists, who like pain because it's the strongest sensation they can elicit. And then there are those sick bastards who actually like being pregnant.” She shuddered at the thought. “The aching joints, indigestion, and feet kicking my ribs from the inside were bad enough, but numbness and dead taste buds are worse than pain. I thought women liked pregnancy for the excuse to eat whatever they want. What's the point if you can't taste anything?” She glanced at me with a wry shrug. “You may think possession is distasteful, but I swear there's
nothing
stranger than growing a human being inside one's stomach.”

“The baby's not in your stomach, it's in your uterus.” Which she should know, considering that she had access to everything Melanie had ever seen, read, or felt. “But it's not even
your
uterus…” My anatomy lesson faded away when what she'd actually been saying finally sank in. Worry tightened my chest. “Wait, you could feel the baby moving before, but now you can't?”

Meshara shrugged. “That part's a relief, really.” She squinted and bumped over another rift in the road. “I can still see the little parasite moving. I just can't feel it.”

“That's not normal.”

“All I care about is that it's
preferable.
” The demon suddenly sat up straight and slammed her foot down on the brake. I flew forward, and my seat belt bruised me from hip to shoulder, driving all the air from my lungs. If not for the belt, I might have gone through the windshield.

Before I could suck in enough air to shout, Meshara had released her own seat belt and shoved open the driver's- side door. “What's not normal is how badly I have to pee!”

“Just now?” I'd had to go for
hours,
even with nothing to drink, and she'd had two bottles of water during the drive without so much as a complaint from her bladder, as far as I could tell.

“Yes. Sit tight!” she shouted as she lunged from the car and fast-waddled toward the grass. I lost sight of her when she ducked behind an abandoned car with a sapling growing through the engine compartment, but after a couple of minutes, which I spent sawing the nylon cord against the broken armrest at my back, she returned, still pulling the stretchy fabric of Melanie's maternity pants over her bulging belly. Only, something about her baby bulge looked…strange.

“Meshara!” I twisted for a better look, tugging as hard as I could against the frayed cord around my wrists. Being near a demon made me stronger than I'd have been on my own, but not as strong as I'd have been in the presence of several other exorcists. And nylon was very strong, for its weight. “Something's wrong.”

“What?” she snapped as she dropped into the driver's seat. “You're mumbling again.”

“Your belly. I'm telling you something's
wrong.
”

Frowning, she pulled up the hem of her shirt, and her eyes widened even before she could push down the top of her pants. The fabric seemed to be…bunching. As if the flesh beneath were contorting. She pulled the elastic material down to the base of her bulge and we both gasped. “What the hell is
that
?” she demanded, while we watched her stomach roil as if her guts were waging war beneath her flesh.

“I think that's a contraction.” My heart pounded and my thoughts raced. It was too early. And how had she not
noticed
? “The baby's coming. For real this time.”

“T
he baby can't be coming,” Meshara insisted calmly, staring at her contorting stomach. “It's too early.”

“That's not up to you.” Fear plucked at my nerve endings like the strings of a guitar. What was I supposed to do with a demon in labor? Even if she safely delivered her “human shield,” enabling me to exorcise her from my sister's body, what could possibly come next? My soul would do the poor child no good if there was no one there to take care of it once I was gone.

Minutes after the birth, I would be sitting alone in the middle of the badlands with the bodies of my sister and her baby.

Of all the ways I'd pictured the birth going horribly wrong, this wasn't one of them.

Panic sharpened my thoughts like the lens of a camera, blurring everything on the periphery so I could focus on the most important part.
One thing at a time, Nina. The baby comes first.
Even if it would only live for a few minutes.

I twisted in my seat, angling my bound wrists toward the demon. “Cut me loose so I can help you.”

Meshara ignored my order, still ogling her belly in detached fascination. “Is he trying to rip his way out the hard way?” She reached for the lever on the side of the driver's seat, then pushed the whole chair back to put more space between herself and the steering wheel.

“It's not like there's an easy way.” I tore my gaze away from her belly to study her face. “Can't you feel that?”

She shook her head, and Melanie's pale hair fell over her right shoulder. “It's like I'm watching the whole thing from the outside. How long has this been going on?”

“How am
I
supposed to know?” I sank back into the passenger's seat, trapping my hands against the upholstery as anger swelled to rival the fear already storming inside me. I wanted Meshara to deliver my niece or nephew screaming in agony the whole time. Then I wanted to fry her from my sister's body with my left hand while I cradled the baby in my right.

Was that too much to ask?

“You're supposed to be in a lot of pain right now!”

“No, I'm supposed to be in a brand-new body with no appreciable stomach, perfect vision, and
me
as the only parasite!” Her eyes were wide and she kept blinking, as if to clear her sight, but I still saw no sign of pain. “With any luck, we'll be in Pandemonia long before the damn thing pops out.” She slid the seat forward again and slammed her stomach into the wheel to punctuate her dissatisfaction.

Anger bubbled up from deep inside me. “Be careful!”

“Let's be clear!” Meshara grabbed my chin and squeezed it mercilessly, glaring at me with eyes that held all of the color and expression of Melanie's yet none of the warmth. “I don't give a shit about this little uterine leech.” To demonstrate, she punched her stomach with her free hand. I flinched, tears welling in my eyes, but she didn't even seem to feel the blow. “We're going to Pandemonia, come hell, high water, or motherfucking childbirth, and when we get there,
I'll
get a pretty new body and you'll get…whatever Kastor decides to do to you before he gives that tight little flesh-and-blood fortress away.” She looked me up and down appreciatively, and my skin crawled even as I noticed her stomach contorting again. “That man does like his toys. And
this
thing…” She punched her belly again, and hot tears spilled down my cheeks toward the ironclad grip she had on my chin. “With any luck, they'll cut it out of your sister's corpse and show it to you before they throw it out with the rest of the garbage.”

“I'm going to kill you,” I said through clenched teeth, glaring into eyes that had seen my most intimate moments of triumph and despair. Eyes that had laughed with me and cried with me and fallen closed in the bed next to me every night for fifteen years.

Eyes that now held nothing of my sister's light or love or beauty.

Meshara laughed and let go of my chin. “No, you won't, because even though
I'm
willing to kill this kid just to watch you scream, you're not. You're going to let me drive you straight into hell on just the
chance
that you might find an opportunity to save this baby, because hope is a disease festering inside you, compromising your aim and crippling your logic.”

“You're right about all of that.” I twisted in my seat until I felt the jagged bit of plastic against my wrists again. “But you're wrong about the timing. You've had
two
contractions in the five or six minutes since you got back into the car.” She might not be able to feel them, but I could
see
them. “You've probably been having them for hours. You're not going to make it to Pandemonia before the baby comes.”

“The hell I'm not!” The first thread of anxiety laced her voice. Meshara shifted into gear and slammed her foot down on the gas.

I sawed at the nylon cord as fast as I could while we barreled down the road, terrified all over again every time she rubbed her eyes. Something was wrong, beyond the surprise contractions. The numbness, blurry vision, and hearing loss were
not
part of a normal birth.

“You can't drive while you're in labor, whether you can feel it or not.” I tried to remember everything Melanie had ever told me about the process. “You could vomit. At some point your water is going to break. And you might lose control of your bladder and bowels.”

Meshara swerved around an ancient three-car pileup, and my shoulder slammed into the window again. “Okay. That's disgusting. But at least I won't be able to feel or smell it.” She stomped on the gas again, and the SUV bumped over a huge crack in the pavement. “That's the only good thing about this stupid, failing body.”

“
Why
can't you feel it?” Blood trickled down my wrist, but I kept sawing at the cord.

“Something's wrong with your sister.” She squinted at the road. “Nothing feels right. Nothing tastes right. I can hardly hear you.” She turned to look at me, and it took a second for her eyes to focus. “If I'd known Melanie was sick, I'd have picked Anabelle, human shield or not.”

Fear crawling up my spine, I sawed harder at my bindings. Something was
seriously
wrong. “Melanie was
fine
until you pushed her out of her own body. Something's wrong with
you.
”

Meshara shook her head, leaning as close to the windshield as she could get, obstructed by both the baby and the steering wheel. “Demons have no bodies of our own in your world, which means we're at the mercy of human physiology.” She finally eased up on the gas pedal. “Looks like you were right about my not making it to Pandemonia, but labor isn't the problem. This body is failing. Fast.”

My mind raced as the car began to swerve slowly, erratically, while she blinked furiously. “Are you still going numb?”

“Can't feel the wheel at all now,” Meshara confirmed. Then she stomped experimentally on the gas, and the car shot forward again. “Can't feel the pedals either. And my tongue is tingling.” She turned to look at me, and the car slowed again. “What the
hell
is wrong with your sister?”

“I don't know. Maybe this is what happens when a demon goes into labor.” Had this happened to my mother? To Grayson's? How could it—they'd both survived to have a second in the same body.

Meshara shook her head, and the car swerved again. “It's not. I've hardly tasted anything in days.”

I gave up sawing at the nylon cord and pulled my arms apart with as much force as I could summon. The cord creaked and several individual strands popped, but the binding didn't give. “Days?” Details spun through my head, and one of them triggered a vague memory. Someone
else
had complained about taste….“How long, exactly?”

“Since a couple of days after I took Melanie's body.”

And suddenly I remembered. Tobias/Aldric had started complaining about the way his food tasted a couple of days after we'd found him. Could he have been sick too? If I hadn't exorcised him, would he have lost his sight and hearing?

Two demons getting sick didn't bother me in the least—surely sick was one step closer to dead—but could Meshara's illness affect the baby?

And why hadn't any of the rest of us caught it?

“What the hell is happening to me?” Meshara demanded, panic trailing from her words as she squinted at the windshield. “It started out as dull taste buds and some tingling, and suddenly everything I like about being human is just”—she threw her hands into the air, and the car swerved again—“draining away.”

I gave my arms another pull, and more strands of nylon popped. “Stop the car!”

“What?” She squinted even harder as the SUV barreled between an off-kilter concrete barricade and the rusted hulk of an abandoned bus.

“Stop the car before you get us both killed!”

Instead, Meshara stomped on the gas, and the SUV lurched forward again while she alternately squinted and blinked furiously at the road, mumbling about making it to Pandemonia before my sister's rotting hull of a body gave out.

“Look out!” I shouted as she swerved around the burned-out frame of what might once have been a police car, and we careened toward a three-foot-high buckle in the concrete. Meshara screamed and took her foot off the gas, but she couldn't hit the brake before the SUV slammed into the jagged fold of pavement.

I flew forward, and my seat belt felt like an iron bar swung straight at my chest. For several seconds I couldn't breathe. I blinked, but all I could see was the crumpled hood of the SUV, which had popped open to block the whole windshield.

I twisted in my seat to find my sister slumped over, the steering wheel pressing a dent into the rounded top of her belly. “Melanie!” I cried, in the instant before I remembered that Mellie was dead and her body was possessed. And that her baby's odds weren't much better.

“Meshara!” Her eyes fluttered open. She moaned, and her eyes closed again without ever focusing. “Hey!” Terrified and furious, I jerked my arms apart as hard as I could, and finally the cord popped, releasing my hands. “Meshara.” I flexed my fingers until the feeling came back, ignoring the blood caked on my wrists, and then I gently pushed my sister's shoulders back until she sat upright in her seat. The demon opened her eyes again. She squinted, trying to focus. “Are you okay? Can you feel the baby?”

“Can't feel anything.” Her speech was thick and labored, as if she'd finally lost all feeling in her tongue. “Whass happening to me? I can hardly see you.”

Fighting pins and needles of my own from the bindings, I lifted her shirt to expose the baby bump and found the top of her belly already beginning to bruise from the collision with the wheel. And as I watched, her stomach began to contract again, her muscles defining a tighter shape beneath her flesh.

“You're having another contraction.” How long had it been since the previous one? “Don't move!” I shouted, to be sure she could hear me.

I pulled my feet up onto my seat so I could free them, but the nylon knots were too tight and my fingers were still tingling.

“I gotta get outta this body.” Her words were still labored, as if she were speaking around a mouthful of marbles.

“You'd just get sucked back into hell.”

“Thass where you'll send me anyway.” She stared slightly to the left of my head, and I realized she couldn't see the difference between my face and the headrest. “At leass I won't see the fire coming.”

Nor could she feel the baby kicking or her own bladder filling. She couldn't taste cayenne and hadn't been able to smell Grayson's bread either.

As the pieces began to come together in my head, I twisted onto my knees and leaned between the front seats to pull Eli's backpack closer. “Meshara,” I said, rummaging in the zipper compartment. Surely he had some kind of small blade.