Devil of a Chance, page 9
Hank and Zane were going to end up dead, and it’d be my fault.
Just like Mom’s death had been all my fault.
Her broken and bloody body appeared in my mind’s eye. I hadn’t been able to help her when those men broke into our home. She’d yelled at me to run even when the intruders tried to grab me. I wanted to stay, but Mom had shoved me out my bedroom window and told me to run and hide, that she’d come and find me.
Only she never had.
I’d sprinted into the woods around our small cabin home and run until my feet bled, and I couldn’t hear the angry men’s shouts anymore. I’d stayed in the shadows of the forest until the following morning. When I’d reached our home, I found it trashed and Mom dead.
They’d killed her, but they’d been after me.
I flinched at the memory and the realization that the feeling was familiar. These men, they had to be the same ones who came after me all those years ago—the same ones who murdered my mom. They’d taken everything from me, and now they were back to finish the job. All this was happening because of me.
No, because of Lucifer.
The bar spun around me, and I swayed, using the bar to hold myself up. I was hot and cold at the same time and trembling all over. My lip twitched, and my gums ached like something was trying to burst through them. When my fingertips throbbed, I barely glanced at them, not understanding what was going on with me and not really caring.
Xavier was talking again, but his words were muffled against the rushing sounds filling my ears. Someone wanted to find me back then. And Xavier and these men, they wanted me now. Who were they?
Does it matter? Are you going to let them take you?
I shook my head so fast a headache bloomed behind my eyes.
Xavier sighed, and my head snapped in his direction.
“That’s the best deal I can offer you,” he said, not that I knew what he was even talking about.
“Deal?”
His brow rose. “Not very bright, are you? Listen to me carefully,” he said, exaggerating every word. “I’ll let the old man here live, and you come with us. No fighting. No killing anyone. I won’t even have them bind your hands with the manacles if you agree to come willingly.”
Deep down, you know the truth. You’ve known all along. Samazrael was just that last push. Listen to yourself. Listen to what your body’s telling you. What your soul’s saying, the voice inside me urged.
“Well? Do we have a deal or not?” Xavier snapped, resting his hands on his hips while he glared.
“And if I say no?” I heard myself ask.
“Things get messy. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
I didn’t. Seeing Hank’s throat slit would haunt me forever. But I wasn’t a twelve-year-old little girl anymore. I wasn’t helpless. The coiling fire inside me told me as much. When I’d attacked Samazrael, I hadn’t been thinking. I’d simply acted. My fingers twitched, and sparks crackled around them.
Xavier’s smile was replaced with a sneer. “You’ll regret this.”
I opened my mouth to reply when a presence brushed against my mind. It was fast approaching, and I grinned. I wasn’t alone after all. “Samazrael,” I breathed.
“What?” Xavier shouted.
The question was barely out of his mouth when the front windows shattered, and a burst of hot gust stormed through the bar.
Samazrael’s roar tore through the room. The men near the door scattered and yelled. Hank was thrown to the side. I managed to notice him crawling out of the way when the men behind me shouted and rushed forward.
I threw my hands upward, amazed at the black claws now jutting from the end of my fingertips, and threw myself at my attackers. The first one who laid a hand on me cursed and yanked the appendage back. His palm and fingers were covered in burns, and his skin smoked. When it caught fire, a dark laugh escaped me. The four others hesitated, backing away while their friend writhed on the floor, still burning.
“What are you doing?” Xavier shouted. “Grab her!”
Not sure what made me do it, I waved the men forward. With their companion now still on the floor, burned to a crisp, they glared at me. One by one, they removed long daggers from behind them, the blades glinting in the neon lights. I had a second to realize how screwed I was when they charged forward a second time.
The sparks at my fingertips turned into living flames. Another guttural growl forced its way out of me, and I ducked and dodged the sharp daggers. My body moved without my telling it what to do. Each time a blade nearly stabbed toward me, I found myself spinning away from it.
I snagged another of the attackers, smashing my hands to his face. He shrieked, unable to break free from the flames coiling around his head and neck. I lunged for another one, ready to cause him the same agonizing death when a burning pain dragged down my back, and I gasped.
“Ashmielle!” Samazrael’s snarl reverberated around the bar, and a body sailed over my head, crashing into the far wall.
A quick look around showed more men had shown up. Three were dead near the front door, but even as Samazrael took down another two, moving too fast for me to even follow, three more took their place.
A stabbing pain to my side nearly sent me to my knees. I swung my arm around, catching the attacker in the neck and sending him flying over the bar. With the dagger still protruding from my side, I staggered around. Not from the wound. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but the fire burning inside me had quickly turned into an inferno.
“We have to get you out of here,” Hank’s voice said from nearby. He reached for me.
I pulled away and shrieked in panic. “No! Don’t touch me,” I warned. “Don’t. I’ll hurt you.”
“You’d never hurt me, girlie. Let’s go, come on.”
I shook my head, fighting to stay in control even while my heart raced impossibly faster. That internal fire threatened to consume me. I gnashed my teeth together, rage replacing every other emotion until that’s all I was—a storm of raw fury. It pulsed within me, seeking a way out.
I yelled for Hank to leave, but he stayed right by my side.
Xavier was still bellowing orders over the chaos of the fight. The few men who tried to come near me halted, running into each other in their haste to back away.
Samazrael appeared in front of me, grabbing my shoulders. He, too, told Hank to get Zane out of there.
The old man was too damn stubborn to listen.
“Get control,” Samazrael ordered, his claws causing little pinpricks of pain where they dug into my shoulders. He gave me a little shake, and my gaze locked onto his black eyes. The darkness that had seemed so empty swirled with strange, glowing gold flecks. They hadn’t been like that before, had they? And his hands were quivering. What was wrong with him? “Can you hear me? You have to stop this. Control it.”
I opened my mouth to ask how, but all that came out was a scream. The fire writhed and twisted inside me, ripping through my abdomen.
Samazrael shouted at Hank again.
I wanted to tell Samazrael to leave too, but words were impossible to form.
Arms wrapped tightly around me, and my face was smashed into a hard chest. Something else closed around me, blocking out the light. Belatedly, I realized they were leathery wings. Samazrael’s wings. He’d cocooned me against his body. What was he thinking? I was going to lose it. He needed to get out of there. Why was he doing this? Why?
Panic set in, and I fought to get away from him, to tell him to run.
“Not leaving your side,” he uttered. “Not again.”
My claws curled into his body, tearing through the thin fabric of his shirt and slicing into his skin. If it hurt, he didn’t let me know, and his arms and wings remained firmly around me. I didn’t want to hurt him or anyone else, but whatever control I had over the fire burned up. The heat was unbearable and like an old comfort at the same time. I opened my eyes, but all I saw was bright red and orange flames. They were me, and I was them. I screamed, the heat exploding outward from my center.
Then there was only fire and nothing at all.
Chapter 9
Samazrael
Debris continued to fall around me. I tucked my head, waiting for the dust to settle. When the building groaned, I chanced a look. The bar became nothing but charred remains after Ashmielle lost control of her power.
Hellfire wasn’t merely fire. It was alive, and unless the one who wielded it was a master at working with it, it destroyed everything in its path.
I’d hoped by wrapping her in my wings, I could contain the damage. Too bad I hadn’t.
Carefully, I unfurled my wings, shaking them of ash and burnt timbers that had fallen in from the ceiling.
Ashmielle was passed out against my chest, her face slack and her body limp. She was feverish, even for a demon. Her claws had scored rivulets into my chest. Grimacing, I pried them out of my skin. I needed to wake her and was about to tap her cheeks when I took in the full extent of the damage she’d caused. Skeletal remains were scattered about the bar. Anyone who didn’t get out when they had the chance was dead.
A body nearby bore a tiny bit of a black leather biker vest burned onto its ribs. That man, Hank, I’d yelled at him to leave. Why didn’t he listen? Now he was dead. They were all dead, and Ashmielle was the one who killed them.
Maneuvering Ashmielle around in my arms, I made it to my knees—
My head began to spin, and I set her down quickly. Throwing my head to the side, I vomited, spitting bile from my mouth after the heaving stopped. I broke out in a cold sweat and shivers. Another round of heaving had me cursing for giving in to the voices. Wiping spittle from my mouth, I glowered at the floor, waiting for the chorus of voices to start. They never did.
Through the waves of nausea leftover from swallowing souls, I sensed Ashmielle’s aura surrounding me. Her emotions were blocked off, but the presence she gave off wouldn’t dissipate with her unconscious. I focused on her pulsing aura, seeking me out as if to comfort me even now.
I hauled her into my arms. Bracing myself, I pushed to my feet, biting back curses when I nearly toppled back over. Sirens approached, and panicked yells reached my ears. Holding Ashmielle against my chest with one arm, I turned my back to the front door. I was worried I wouldn’t have enough strength to create a portal, and still, I waved my hand.
Thankfully, one appeared, and I stepped through it.
I made it three steps then my knees buckled.
“Samazrael?” Heph called, alarmed.
I’d created a portal right outside his forge. Anywhere else would’ve caused a commotion I wasn’t ready to deal with. Ashmielle’s head lolled on her shoulders, and she winced. I glanced down her body, noting the blood that had stained her ripped shirt.
“What happened?”
With Heph’s help, I made it to my feet and followed him away from the forge’s heat and toward his living quarters. Thankfully, there were no other demons around, and we weren’t disturbed.
“Demon Hunters,” I growled, carefully laying Ashmielle down on the leather lounge in Heph’s sitting room. “They attacked the bar, came after her.” I gripped the edge of the cushions, telling myself to get it together, but my stomach churned. I rushed to the kitchen and barely made it to the sink before I was sick. My teeth chattered, and I shook so violently it ached.
“What did you do?” Heph demanded, appearing at my side. “Samazrael, look at me.”
Slowly, I turned to face him.
His lips thinned, and he roughly grabbed my chin, studying my eyes. “How many?” he asked.
“Two,” I rasped. “They cornered me in an alley. They meant to kill me so I couldn’t protect Ashmielle.” My stomach twisted in knots, but I managed not to start heaving again. “I tore them apart, and as for their souls, they didn’t deserve to exist, not after what they’d done in life.”
“Been a long time since you’ve absorbed one. Coming down is going to be horrible.”
“I can deal with it.”
His arched brow said we’d see. He let me go, and I followed him back through the kitchen to the sitting room. Ashmielle hadn’t stirred yet. With my head a bit clearer, I noted the various slashes covering her arms and stomach. There was one stab wound to her side. Heph went to push her shirt up to see it better, and I snarled, lunging forward to stop him. He backed away, tilting his head while he watched me take up a protective stance beside Ashmielle.
“Interesting,” he mused.
I stopped growling and closed my mouth around my fangs. What was that about? Heph wasn’t a threat to her. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s understandable. You’re her protector.” His lips twitched like he was about to smile. Whatever he was thinking, he kept to himself.
I was Ashmielle’s protector, but this was about more than my oath. Her aura was pulsing steadily out from her body and pressing into mine. If Heph touched her, he might end up pulling it away from me. I didn’t want to share this comfort with anyone. If it left me, even slightly, the voices would return, I knew they would. The longer I studied Heph, the more I noticed he wasn’t acting differently at all. Ashmielle’s presence was as strong as Lucifer’s, if not more so. And yet, he appeared unaffected by it.
“How do you not feel her like I do?” I whispered, confused.
“I sense her, as I’ve told you,” Heph replied. “You, however, seem to have a much deeper connection to her. I’ve seen it before.”
“You have? When? With whom?”
“Those are good questions. Ones you might get answers to later.” He nodded to Ashmielle. “You need to check her wounds, make sure they’re healing. And tell me everything about this fight.”
I sat on the floor beside the lounge and began to tell Heph about what we’d been through. While relaying the incidents surrounding the fight at the bar, I never left Ashmielle’s side. Her lesser wounds had closed relatively quickly. The puncture at her side was nearly done now. I’d even checked her legs, not surprised to find no bruising left behind from the beam that had pinned her during the fire. It wasn’t her physical wounds I was worried about. What she did back at the bar, the amount of power she’d manifested, and the lives she took, that wasn’t going to be an easy event to simply put behind her and move on.
She hadn’t only killed the Demon Hunters. She’d killed innocent humans.
Heph hadn’t spoken a word the entire time I talked. He paced from one end of the room to the other, holding his chin. Every now and then, he let out a growl and shook his head. That had been going on for the last twenty minutes, and I couldn’t take his silence any longer.
“Well?” I snapped.
Heph didn’t stop his pacing, but his eyes narrowed. “How did the Demon Hunters find her before we did?”
“Been asking myself that same question since the fire.”
“And what she did,” he went on as if I hadn’t said anything, “that amount of power, she’s going to be a danger to herself and everyone around her until you teach her to control it.”
“Me?” I sputtered. “I can’t teach her. I’m barely keeping myself together. I can scarcely use my Hellfire to even show her. It came to me once and now, nothing.”
“You need to remember who and what you are, and your fire will return to you fully. Anyway, you seem fine at the moment.”
“Because I’m near her,” I confessed.
He paused and raised his brow when I fell silent.
I hung my head, resting it in my hands. “It’s been chaos in my mind and in my soul for so long,” I whispered, glaring at the floorboards. “But if she’s near me, the storm calms, and I can think straight. I don’t feel as if I’m being torn in twenty different directions. She silences the voices.”
“Voices? The same ones you heard in your cell?”
I raised my head, wincing. “They never stopped. Quieted down for a little while, but they’re still there.”
“It’s not odd for the punishment to carry over,” he said slowly. “Many demons experience the same when they’re released. Those cells do more than torture you. They scar your soul, but I’ve never heard of another’s presence acting as a balm. Though to be fair, it makes sense if my theory is correct.”
His face took on the same curious look he’d worn when I nearly ripped his throat out for being near Ashmielle.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“That there was a reason Lucifer chose you even if he didn’t know it at the time.”
The seriousness of his tone had me sitting up straight. A question was on my tongue when a burst of confusion and fear that weren’t mine slammed into me. Kneeling by the lounge, I waited for Ashmielle’s eyes to open.
They fluttered, and she cringed, curling in on herself.
“Easy,” I said quietly. “Take it slow.”
“Samazrael?” she murmured, her eyes opening all the way. She blinked at my face, then her eyes widened, and she shot upright. “Hank! And those men. We were at the bar. Where… where am I?” She glanced wildly around, scrambling further back on the lounge when she spotted Heph. “Who’s that?”
“Heph, at your service,” he said, bowing low. “Blacksmith of Hell and half-brother to Lucifer.”
Ashmielle’s lips twitched. “Right, because the King of Hell has family.”
“Yes, he does, and that includes you,” Heph added. I growled, and he waved me off. “You already told her the truth. No reason not to be blunt about her current predicament. Ah, also, you’re currently in Hell.”
“Seriously?” I said.
At the same time, Ashmielle yelled, “What?”
“Nothing to worry about,” Heph assured her, but his words didn’t ease the panic etched on her face or the explosion of heat that pulsed from her and made me wince.
“How can you not feel that?” I asked Heph.
