Armageddon Rules (44 page)

Malodin leaped to the side of the ring, waving for the Adversary’s attention. “Bring forth thine armies of destruction, Father. Blacken the skies with demon wing and let the stone catch fire.”

Larry flicked the crystal barrier separating him from us, making it ring like a bell. “Might I ask what you are doing?”

Malodin leered at him. “Beginning my dearly earned destruction of the world.”

“Not here you aren’t.” Larry crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Begone, weak spirit of wrath, and I won’t send a swarm of hell flies to tear you to shreds.”

Larry didn’t as much as flinch. “We have a contract, and you’ll abide by it. The contract says you may bring about the
demon
apocalypse.”

Malodin fell silent for a moment. “I’m a demon. All my armies are demons. Our families are demons. Our pets are little demons.”

Larry shrugged. “It clearly says here that you can bring about the demon apocalypse. So go ahead. Go back to Inferno and bring apocalypse down on all the demons there.”

“That’s not what that means.”

“Really? Don’t we say ‘A plague of locusts’? Wouldn’t that mean the right term is
an apocalypse of demons
?”

“That’s not what it means.” Malodin’s voice wavered.

Larry dusted his hands off. “I disagree. I’m going to move to bring this up before the Authority.”

“Impossible! She won’t convene court until Judgment Day. Not really a point in having an apocalypse if the world has already ended.” Malodin managed to both shriek and whine.

“That’s not really my client’s problem. This contract is on hold until it can be mediated.”

Nick folded up his paper. “I think we’re done here. Eli, nice seeing you. Marissa, you have my number. Mal, we need to talk later.”

“Stop!” Irina Mihail screamed, pulling at her own hair until chunks came out. “I promised you wrath, Marissa. Wrath you
will
receive.” Placing her finger in her mouth, she bit until the flesh crunched, then scratched a bloody signature on the crystal. “I offer you a new deal, demon. My soul for her destruction.”

A contract scribbled into place in impeccable script, leaving her blood smear perfectly positioned at the signature point.

Liam lunged for the crystal wall, pounding against it with every bit of strength he could muster, but after two weeks, he couldn’t even change his hands to claws.

Malodin changed as he advanced on me. His skin glistened black and his eyes became like an insect’s, his mouth elongated to allow spider fangs.

“This is the point where you reveal some sort of devious twist.” I backed away as I spoke, circling the ring. “Like ‘her destruction of old age.’ Right?”

“No.” His mandibles clicked together as he spoke.

“But I thought demons never did as they were told.”

Malodin shivered, and his skin split, freeing wings to spread behind him. “She asked for something simple. Something in line with my nature. Something I
wanted
to do anyway.”

I was in trouble. I glanced over to Nick Scratch. “Leash your boy?”

He folded up his paper and sat back down. “You took away his apocalypse; I can sort of understand him not being happy about it.” He took something out of his pocket and held it between his hands. It began to shake and steam and then pop. He shook a bag of microwave popcorn and opened it up.

“Eli? Little help? He’s going to kill me.”

The angel reached over and took some popcorn from the Devil. “Unlawful murderizing, that goes to small claims court. We only handle the important stuff.”

“Your contracts are going to be the death of me,” I said, dodging a halfhearted blow from Malodin.

“That’s sort of the point.” Malodin flipped the quill over, raising it like a dagger.

I reached into my purse and brought out the vial. At the sight of it, Malodin recoiled, and both Nickolas and Eli let out howls of laughter. “I’m sick of contracts. How about you and I have a gentleman’s agreement? You put down the quill, I’ll put down the vial.”

“Lady, you make bad deals,” said Malodin, “but I’m fine with that.”

I carefully placed the vial on the drafting table, not spilling a drop on the copy of that cursed contract. “Your turn.”

He swung at me with the quill, missing my chest by an inch.

“We had an agreement.” I ran, he advanced, flipping the quill in his hand as he did.

“A gentleman’s agreement. I’m not a gentleman.” He swelled with each step, lumbering forward.

When he swiped at me the next time, I rolled to the side, kicking his knee so hard it broke. He sagged forward, then rose. The buglike carapace covering his knee popped and crackled as it healed. “I can do this all day.”

I charged, leaping onto his back, tearing at the wings, stabbing my thumbs into his eyes, and he twisted. His head swiveled around to look at me. Then the wings I’d leaped on flared out, throwing me toward the crystal floor.

I hit headfirst.

The kick that followed hit my thigh, flipping me over like a rag.

Malodin knelt, grabbed me by the hair, and threw me across the floor, into the drafting table. I grasped at it, hauling myself up. He’d be on me in an instant. I stretched out across the table, reaching for the vial of sweat. Malodin swung the quill overhand, driving it through my hand and snapping it off. I writhed in agony and fell, hanging half crucified from the table.

Malodin grabbed my suit with his claws and lifted me upward. “Any last words? Some sarcastic comment? A witty retort?”

I looked back over my shoulder at the contract. My blood refused to stick to it, dancing to the side to avoid the words. “I accept.”

He dropped me like I was made of Cheddar cheese, his hands smoking where he had touched me. “What is this?”

I pulled my hand off the quill. Tremors of agony wracked my body, but I forced myself to my feet and pointed to where he had stabbed the paper. “You canceled the deal. Quill was in your hand. You moved it.” As I spoke, the single mark flowed into Malodin’s signature. “You have no authority to harm anyone now.”

Nick Scratch began to laugh so hard he nearly fell off the bench, and then he stood and clapped his hands softly. “You know, Marissa, that was inspired. Mal, my boy, how did you not see that coming?”

Malodin flexed a clawed hand and reached for me.

“Ahem.” I looked back at Nick, who had folded up his paper and put it under his arm. “Mal, you need to decide how we’re going to do this. First, you fail to deliver an apocalypse. That I can almost understand. It happens. Canceling your own contract though; that’s just plain bad for business. I wouldn’t trust you to bring about the end of happy hour at this point. Boys, take Mal to my office.”

A swarm of flies rose up and seized Malodin and pulled him down through the crystal into the fire.

The crystal in the floor retracted, and Liam limped over, wrapping my bleeding hand in his shirt.

“Let me see.” Grimm sounded angry and happy at the same time, as he looked at the point where the razor tip of the quill pierced my hand. “My dear, you are most fortunate.”

The shivering in my body said otherwise, and the thought of disinfectant made me shake. “How about you do the magic thing where everything feels better?”

“Your body will take care of that on its own.”

If there was one thing I could count on the Fairy Godfather to do, it was to avoid magic.

Then the screaming started. By the dealing table, Nickolas held Irina Mihail in one hand. With the other claw, he folded her, like a flesh origami, until all that remained of the queen was a cracker-sized square of pulsing flesh. “Maybe she’ll taste better with soy sauce. See you later, Marissa.” Nickolas nibbled on the edge of the square, causing it to shriek, and walked to the side of the dealing room.

The harbingers stood between me and the door, arms folded. I waved to War. “We’re done, right? You guys can go.”

Death took a couple of steps forward. “Not exactly. The rest of the contract may be canceled, but we haven’t delivered on our end. And we always keep our side of deals.”

Thirty-Nine

“WHAT DO YOU want? I’m not going to end the world. Not again.” I leaned into Liam, and he responded by picking me up, which, all things considered, I liked.

“Marissa, relax.” Larry picked up my crumpled contract from the floor. “Just looking out for you as your lawyer.” He unraveled the paper, then pointed to a section I’d skimmed over. “Due, and Gifts.” My eyes picked those out pretty well. “You were supposed to receive these when you unleashed the harbingers.”

“She didn’t give us time.” War glared at me. “And after that stunt with the bikes, I wasn’t feeling generous.”

I kicked my feet in the air, signaling Liam to put me down. He kept his arm around me. “Fine. I’ve got the head of Rip Van Winkle in a box, a throne I can’t use, and Kingdom only knows what else that I don’t need. Could you wait and get me something off my wedding registry?”

War approached, exchanging a stare with Liam that I couldn’t quite decode. He reached out, and put the palm of one hand on my forehead.

I expected more.

A flash of light, maybe? A rainbow of color? You know, something to indicate that I’d gotten, well, something. He pulled his hand back, and nodded, almost to himself. “Lady, you gotten your ass kicked from here to Sunday. My gift will fix that.”

“I’m not a killer.” I wouldn’t mind another harakathin, but the idea of him making me into a killing machine, that made me sick at my stomach. When I closed my eyes, a light like a spotlight shone on the inside of my head, like an afterimage. “Take it back.”

War chuckled. “When you finally are ready, my gift will be waiting.” He stepped back, and nodded to Pestilence.

I swear, the guy could have been an underwear model. The tone of his skin, the ripple of his muscles . . . for the embodiment of disease, he kept it together.

I didn’t flinch when he put his hands on my cheeks. When he sneezed, showering me in snot, I flinched. I flinched a lot, as a matter of fact.

“My gift. You’ll never catch a cold again.” Pestilence bowed his head toward me, while I wiped my face on Liam’s shirt.

Famine waddled forward, a diet soda in his greasy hands. “Eat what you want. You’ll never grow fat.”

Which left only Death. What on earth could Death offer me? More life? Eternal life? His eyes wrinkled as he smiled, and I shook my head. “You don’t work that way.”

“Do you remember what I told you about hate?” Death’s voice sent chills down my spine. More than normal, if there’s a normal for conversing with the embodiment of death.

“Yeah, I remember.” Hatred could pin my soul. A warning? Love everyone or risk becoming a ghost?

“Then my gift is already given. See you soon, handmaiden.” Death turned, as if to walk away, and when I blinked, he was gone.

“On account of your good service to this world, I’m prepared to offer a onetime pass.” Eli’s voice boomed in the empty chamber. Then I realized his words were to Larry, not me.

In life, Larry Gulberson had all the charm of a walrus wearing a clown mask. After dealing with Larry as a skeleton for so long, he actually looked mildly charming. He nodded to Eli.

“On the other hand, you should consider all your options.” Nickolas Scratch tapped his rolled-up paper in the palm of his hand.

“You don’t really want to go with that guy. He’s pits of sulfur and fire.” Eli glared at Nickolas.

“Women. I’ve got women. Marilyn, Lizzie. He’s got Mother Teresa.” Nick winked at me.

“She looks good in a habit.” Eli looked over at me. “Get on out of here, Ms. Locks. Gonna get ugly.”

Larry walked over and took my hands. “The deed for my house is in Mother’s pocket. Make sure Ari gets it.” Then he wiped a bead of sweat from his head, smiled, and turned his back. “Let’s talk. Eternal damnation. Are we talking one or two eternities here?”

I didn’t look back when we left.

*   *   *

“I’M GOING TO miss him.” Ari and I sat in the living room of her no-longer-haunted town house. The house felt empty without a spirit of wrath and a hellhound watching over it.

“Yeller, or Larry?” At her dog’s name, Ari’s face fell further. She’d probably meant both.

“Ladies?” Grimm appeared above the fireplace. “I hate to interrupt, but Arianna has an appointment.”

Ari took a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and slipped them on. “Fear therapy for Wyatt. We’re making progress. Yesterday he almost looked at me without flinching.”

“A man terrified of the woman he’s in love with is hardly unique.” Grimm spoke with the authority of several thousand years.

“Grimm, any sign of the Black Queen?” I tried to keep the apprehension in my voice under control.

“None. My daughter must gather power, a process that may take decades, or perhaps centuries. Don’t waste your life worrying about what may never come.” Grimm faded out, off to save the world, or maybe just a prince.

When Liam opened the front door, I was already waiting. Already had my coat and my purse, and the smile that came to my face at the sight of him. Not even the image of Svetlana, following him like a puppy dog, could dampen my joy.