Did it look as if the accountant reacted? Maybe for half a second? Did his lips twitch? Did his brow descend with a clunk?

  No. Maggie imagined it was all in her head. Because the man was still too stiff, too watchful. And too victorious. It was just there in his eyes, just there for everyone to see.

  “Walk away, and you won’t get the same deal again. Walk away, and you will be condemning her and all of the three realms to death.”

  “You have free rein to make deals for Hell. But you will not make this deal on my father’s behalf. I will go to him—”

  “Your father does not and cannot meddle in my affairs. He recognizes that to run his business smoothly, accountants must be given—”

  “Free rein? I’m currently the only thing keeping her safe. And keeping her safe is the only thing keeping the realms safe. Come up with another deal.”

  “There will be no other deal. You will hand Maggie over when the end has been passed. As I told you, no harm will come to her.”

  Maggie sliced her gaze from him back to the accountant. She shouldn’t have to tell you the very last thing she wanted to do was go anywhere with this man. He was one of the most controlling, calculating forces she had ever come across.

  She had glimpsed that ancient force during the naming ceremony. It had been bad – this rough, chaotic energy like nuclear power being downloaded between your brows. But it had been understandable.

  The accountant, on the other hand, was far too intelligent.

  The very last thing anyone wanted to do was go anywhere with him. But what if it was Maggie’s only chance to help Luc?

  He’d been helping her.

  She really, really didn’t want to do this, but she didn’t see any other way.

  Biting her lips, driving them in hard until she could almost taste blood, she rose. She looked straight at the accountant and over at Luc.

  Luc went to dive across and grab her hand, but she jerked it back and opened it wide. She turned to the accountant. “What exactly will happen to me?”

  He smiled. “Nothing much. You will start to work for Hell.”

  “Over my dead body,” Luc snarled.

  Maggie didn’t immediately react. Several weeks ago, she would have. She would’ve imagined that would entail shuffling people off the mortal coil or shoveling coal down in the fiery pits.

  But now her eyes narrowed. It could mean practically anything. “What will I do?”

  The accountant watched her for several seconds, clearly sizing her up, wondering whether he should tell the truth or not. He tapped the middle of his brows. “You will use that Vessel of yours for good deeds.”

  “Good deeds? This is Hell,” Luc snapped. “And if you think I’ll let you use her—”

  “You are the man who upholds the treaty. That,” the accountant looked away then looked at him once more, hammering his point home right between Luc’s eyes, “is what you exist for. It is the most important task in your life. And,” the accountant leaned forward now, steepling his fingers and looking at Luc across the top of them like a man down the sight of a rifle, “this is how you will do that.”

  Luc’s brow compressed. “I told you. I’ve already been upholding the treaty—”

  “To truly uphold it,” the accountant now pointed at her with one of his bony, gaunt fingers, “you must let go of her. To keep light and dark balanced, she will need to work for us for eternity. And that is my final word on the matter.” He leaned back, practically lying down now but somehow managing to make it look cool and suave.

  Maggie stood there, cold through and through, muscles so stiff, you could’ve injected them with relaxants and all they would’ve done was twang harder.

  It took an age for her to turn to Luc, even longer to actually see him. For a while, she was so stuck inside her fears the only thing she could see was shadows permanently looming on the horizon. She finally found her voice, and it came out in a wretched squeak. “Luc?”

  He wouldn’t look at her. He twisted his head away, and she caught a glimpse of his brow crumpled in confusion and thought. She couldn’t glimpse the contents of his mind, but she imagined that right now he was thinking as fast as he possibly could, desperately attempting to come up with some solution. What solution could there be? He was the man who upheld the treaty. And if… it was necessary for the light and the dark to be kept in balance, he had to do it.

  And if Maggie had to be given to Hell to do that….

  “We are going to find another way,” Luc concluded. He reached over and grabbed her wrist. He went to pull her out of the office. His car had disappeared, and God knows where it was. Presumably parked back down on the street. In Luc’s current mood, he’d punch through any wall to get to it. But would it matter? Would it save her? Would it save anyone?

  He got a step. Maggie’s head automatically turned back to the accountant. This man worked for Hell. Technically. He seemed a little above that realm. Perhaps he supervised all of the realms. Point was, he didn’t seem to be lying. Maybe… Maggie could understand where he was coming from.

  The treaty was the most important thing to peace on Earth. To peace in all of the realms. And Luc had to uphold it. What exactly did they think would happen when they finally got rid of the threat of the ancient force attempting to inhabit her? Would everything go back to normal? Of course not. Maggie was a Vessel. She would always be a Vessel. The Church or some other fell force would simply find a way to use her again. And did she think that Luc would be there forever at her side trying to keep her safe?

  The last two weeks had been a hell of a ride, and she wouldn’t have changed them – in so far as they’d thrown her into Luc’s arms. But could she live like that for the rest of time? Could the world live like that for even another week, let alone 60 years?

  No. The accountant didn’t have to tell her that. She could see his calculating mind working behind his strict gaze, and it downloaded those harsh truths into her.

  It was enough that her knees wobbled. Immediately, Luc moved around and grabbed her arm. “Just hold on. We’ll find another way to fix the rings.” He unconsciously grabbed hold of hers as he closed his fingers around her grip. He went to move her away.

  She placed her hand on his wrist. She looked into his eyes, and she meant it. “Luc,” she said in a careful voice. “He’s right.”

  “Maggie, don’t you dare,” Luc growled.

  But Maggie had already made her mind up. She didn’t want to burden Luc – though that’s all she’d ever been. All right, in the beginning, she had wanted to burden Luc. She’d wanted to do anything to gain revenge against his overly smug, arrogant attitude. But everything had changed. So it was up to her to change with the times.

  She took a deep breath and faced the accountant again. He was making no effort whatsoever to hide his greed. It played over his face, as obvious as an energetic dance troupe.

  She took a breath and closed her eyes once. When she winked them open, Luc, in a rush of speed, was right in front of her.

  He shook his head. “You don’t get to make this decision. Only I do.” He tugged his lapels down. Then he turned smoothly and looked at the accountant. “The rings aren’t completely broken for now. I will… consider your offer.” He grabbed Maggie’s hand and went to pull her away.

  The accountant rose. He’d looked so very smug before, so very in control. He’d seen Maggie wavering and thought he was about to get everything he wanted. Now he lurched to his feet, and Maggie got the impression it was the fastest he’d ever moved.

  “If you walk out that door, Seventh Son of Satan, the full forces of this conspiracy will come after you. Do not think that it is just the Church who wishes to claim Maggie anymore.”

  Luc’s eyes twitched. “And what exactly does that mean? That Heaven has been in on this conspiracy since the beginning? Are you telling me it’s more than the Church?”

  “I’m telling you you must think of the future. If you fail to, not only will you be condemning all the three realms and Maggie, but you will be condemning yourself too. I will give you several hours.”

  “How very generous. I’ll take several days. Maggie, we’re going home. No one will be able to assail us there.”

  “You seem to misunderstand the nature of the damage to your ring,” the accountant said with some joy, though she couldn’t actually register that. It wasn’t like he was smiling. It was just the look in his eyes.

  Maybe Luc was playing hard to get, but the accountant ultimately had all the cards in his hands. “The pull of the ring will become far harder to control now.”

  “It was impossible to control before. All it asks is that I keep her safe. And that’s what I’ll do.”

  “It will require you to be proactive now, Prince. It will be insufficient for you to simply prevent active threats from attacking her. You will have to hunt down the very cause of that which wishes to harm her in the first place. You will not be able to go home to retire in front of your little fire in your library. You will not be able to moan to your father on the phone. If you walk out of here without my help, you must go into the most dangerous phase of this fight. All with your rings damaged. Is that what you wish to do, Prince? Would you lay down your life for this woman?”

  Luc went to answer yes, but the accountant wasn’t finished yet.

  He smoothly moved around, and before Maggie was really aware of what he was doing, placed his hand on her shoulder. She immediately felt his cold, searching touch. She’d never been handled by a computer before, but this felt oddly like that. There was no humanity behind that grip – which went without saying, considering he was a denizen of Hell. But there was no compassion, no sentience, either.

  There was a purpose, and that purpose wanted to latch hold of her and drag her off into a much darker future.

  Luc stiffened once as if thinking this through, then smoothly turned.

  He faced the accountant. “There’s something you haven’t quite figured out yet, Accountant.”

  “And what’s that?” His eyes flashed, suggesting that was the greatest insult anyone could hurl his way. Presumably he didn’t sleep at night. He simply calculated and recalculated possibilities.

  “You’ve never actually met her before today, have you? Maybe you’ve read some kind of spreadsheet. Maybe you’ve seen the likes of Maggie in a catalog and you want to acquire her, but you’ve never actually had anything to do with her, have you?”

  “What exactly are you getting at?”

  Remarkably, Luc swung his gaze over to Maggie and settled it on her, even smiled before he said what he said next. “She’s the most tenacious force underneath Heaven and above Hell. Maggie is not going anywhere. And as long as she’s alive, I’m not going anywhere either.”

  With that, they went somewhere, kind of invalidating the argument. But it didn’t matter. The whole way as he pulled her out of the office, Maggie stared up at Luc, and damn her if it wasn’t a loving gaze. Could it last? Of course it couldn’t last. Everything was literally going to Hell.

  But at least she’d be going to Hell with company.

  5

  John

  Dead. He should be dead. He wasn’t dead. And that… ah, that was the point. A scrap of him functioned. Enough to know that his mission had not been completed. And his mission… that was now all he was. It filled him up, from head to foot – or should he say, from the top of him to the bottom of him? He hadn’t run an inventory yet, had no idea exactly what was left over of his scorched and charred body. There was one thing that remained. His new hand. He clutched it in and out as he climbed the pit.

  He didn’t need to grab hold of the dirt and rock walls. He could do something far simpler. All he had to do was clutch hold of the air. Then he dragged it out of his way. There were these strange scratching sounds. Little implosions, too. It sounded as if he was damaging the very nature of space-time.

  Irrelevant. It had to leave, had to get out of his way and finally part for what was within.

  Soon. He felt its eagerness and translated it into words. For the force in his head could not speak English – could not speak any language and found all of them reprehensible. Languages were for fools to communicate with. Fundamental forces like the ones in his head required no form of communication other than their pure, undiluted will. It is idiots who have to transfer concepts to others. The truly powerful simply remake the world in their image. And that is the only message they will ever have to impart.

  He scrabbled faster now, aware of the fact that his eyes were bleeding. Were they bleeding blood or the combination of the last scrap of his soul and the fundamental force’s desire?

  Who cared? More words. And from now until this was done, words would be irrelevant. The only thing that would count was action.

  As if to reinforce that fact, his new hand groped in and out, practicing settling around Maggie’s throat. There was even a crunch in the air as if he could throttle it.

  There wasn’t a single scrap of the real John left. No. That wasn’t true. There was enough that he knew her name and he knew his. Then, in between that, this gaping hole. He didn’t know what it had once been filled with, but it was irrelevant now, because it was a space for the fundamental force to occupy.

  It did not fill it like you might water to a bucket. What he was trying to get at was that there was no presence. What there was was the absence of room.

  John had always thought his head was empty. Before this conspiracy had kicked off, there’d been nothing in his head but blind, stupid duty.

  Now there was purpose. Singular. Impossible to remove. Hurling him forward.

  He pulled himself up the last section of the gaping chasm. He threw himself onto the scorched earth beyond. Above, it was day. It had been day before this mess had begun. The general had momentarily made it night. Now it was back. For a lack of light is the original state and ultimately irrepressible.

  John forced his hands down into the dirt, blood dripping off them – the last he would bleed, for it was the last of his fragile body. Then he threw his head back, and he screamed. His throat bulged, forcing itself forward, the muscles contracting with such tight twangs, he felt it down into his feet. His human body wasn’t designed for this stress. Good. It would crack away, giving form only to the force within.

  As he screamed and the last of his blood splattered across the grass, something started to shake out of his chest. He looked down out of the corner of his eye to see they were great little wisps of smoke. He said great, despite the size, because their force was unstoppable. They curled around his body then shot up into the sky. There weren’t that many of them. Maybe just a handful. It was hardly some great obscuring cloud the likes of which you’d get from a volcanic eruption. But that was irrelevant. The most powerful things are hidden in the smallest packages – just ask Maggie Brown about that.

  The only relevant fact right now was that as soon as the black smoke caught the light above, it extinguished. These great billowing storm clouds erupted out of the sky as if they had been hidden by the light all this time.

  At first, they only pulsed around him, twisting high, forming a vortex of indisputed power. Then they spread out. Soon, they would reach the city, and they would cover that too. And until the day Ometa managed to consume this world and every other world near it, they would remain.

  For when the sky is truly dark, humanity will finally realize that there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

  When the scream was done, John lurched forward, body sore all over. Rather than let it recover, he started to drag the nails of his new hand down his flesh. There was still something he had to dig out. His exorcist wards. They’d prevented the naming spell from completely consuming him previously, and now it was time to remedy that mistake.

  He could dig the long nails of that hand right in through his flesh to reach the bones. It meant he didn’t have to rip off every single muscle. He’d claimed that he was so much more than a body right now, but he was still human underneath, and the fundamental force needed his heart to keep beating for a little longer.

  Irrelevant. His technique was fine. It was like jamming a scalpel all the way into somebody’s legs to get to their femurs.

  He scratched off the first ward then the second. He kept going, hands shaking, blood pouring down his legs and staining the grass. He’d already claimed to you that he had lost the last scrap of his real blood, and trust him, this was no human fluid that splattered over every blade. It was black and bubbled like tar. Whatever it touched, it killed.

  No. Whatever it touched, it transformed. For there is life in destruction. That is the entire point of it. Perhaps a fact the Church had missed all of these years. What was the point of keeping around old systems that didn’t work anymore? Old cars, old cities, old kinds of thought? It was the same for people. He wasn’t talking about the elderly here. He was talking about people in general. They were such magnets for the dark. Regardless of the good the Church had taught them, they had always turned back toward sin.

  It meant there was a fault in them. Something fundamental. And when something is broken on the inside, what do you do with it? What is the only thing you can do with it?

  The answer?

  To destroy it.

  And that is precisely what he would do. He lurched forward, balance imperfect but stare steady.

  He knew what he had to do, and the force within him understood.

  Time to end it all. Time to begin anew. A new universe would grow from this one, because nothing can ever stay stagnant for long. But the mistakes of the previous universe would not be remade. No more minds. No more fragile hearts. There would only be rules that had to be followed. That was all Ometa sought, and it was all John would give him.

 

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