Blood of the Demon (35 page)

“Oh shit!” Brynn screamed. She edged away, unable to avert her eyes as the zombies devoured the demon less than five feet away from her. Lord, they stank like five-day-old roadkill.

“What?” Mammon stared at the zombies in confusion. His attention darted back to Brynn and, pointing to her, he said, “Kill the girl.”

They stopped eating momentarily, turning their gazes toward him while their bodies continued to regenerate. Then, as one, they returned to their demonic feast.

Mammon lobbed an accusing glare at Brynn. “What is this?”

“Oh, forgot to tell you. The
Book
doesn’t actually control the army,” Brynn said, gracing him with an airy smile. “The heir does.”

Mammon glared at her for a long moment, rage building behind his evil eyes. “What?”

“The army is meant to protect the priest’s bloodline.”

“No.” He gripped the
Book
so tightly his knuckles turned white. “No, how dare you lie to me?”

“I can’t help that what you believed was wrong.”

His chest heaved as it he absorbed her words. Then, he moved in front of her and grabbed her neck, choking off her circulation.

The zombies lurched toward them. But Mammon must have heard them, because he shifted around to her back, keeping his hand on her neck, and used her as a shield. She screamed as the zombies got within inches of her, close enough that their stench burned her nostrils and their gore dripped onto her clothes. Recognizing the danger to her, they stopped.

“Stay back,” Mammon ordered them, desperation thick in his voice.

They obeyed, edging anxiously, as if searching for his weak spot.

“Tell them to back away,” he whispered in her ear.

She opened her mouth to respond when the sky burst into flame.

Chapter Thirty-One

An involuntary screech tore from Brynn’s throat as streams of fiery red sprayed the air, creating thick plumes of smoke. A winged figure flew toward the camp.

Keegan.

With Taeg on his back.

Fire blanketed one corner of the camp, setting demons and zombies ablaze. But then, just like that, Keegan appeared to run out of fuel. The fire dissipated, though the carnage remained.

Through the thick smoke, Brynn barely made out the figures of Keegan and Taeg dropping to the ground. They pulled swords from their backs and fought her new army.
They attacked, and the zombies mindlessly lurched forward to defend themselves.

She opened her mouth to scream at Keegan, but before she could say a word Mammon dropped the
Book
and clapped his free hand over her mouth.

“Isn’t that funny? Turns out they’re fighting their own side.”

Brynn kicked her heel against Mammon’s shin and tried to elbow him in the stomach. He muffled a curse and dodged her elbow, using the zombies’ preoccupation with Keegan and his brothers to his advantage as he edged her backward into the tent. Once inside, he twirled her around and shoved her into the great room. She landed in a crumbled heap on the ground.

Mammon loomed over her, cruelty slashing across his face. “Are you going to cooperate now, my dear?”

She rose to her feet and circled the inside of the tent, staring at him in disbelief. “You can’t command the army. Give it up.”

Mammon scoffed at that. “I haven’t lost. I merely have to reevaluate. I may not be able to command the army, but you can. And I control you.”

Control her? He wished.

“Fuck you,” she snarled. She made a run for the exit, but he caught her by the arm and his fist clipped her on the chin, dropping her to the ground. Agony erupted at the point of impact. The pain that spread across her face was so intense she feared her jaw might be broken.

“Fuck,” he screamed, grabbing his face. A purple bruise had formed there.

Disoriented, Brynn peered up at him, noticing a thin row of bruises darkening on his neck. What on Earth? “The blood oath.”

“Yes.” He gripped arm and dragged her toward his bedroom. “I’ve sworn not to harm you, so whatever harm I do to you will come back to me threefold.”

“Let go.” She tried to get to her feet, but Mammon hoisted her over his shoulder, not stopping until he reached the side of his bed and dumped her.

Hell no.

Brynn’s fist flew out and connected with the side of Mammon’s face, in the same spot as his new bruise. He flinched and drew away. She used that moment to reach inside her sweater and slide the dagger from its sheath. Then she lunged at him, swinging it toward his neck in a long arc.

The blade came within an inch of slicing him, but Mammon moved aside at the last second. Instead of cutting his neck, it grazed the top of his shoulder, leaving a shallow cut.

“Bitch. You’ll pay for that.” He snatched her wrist and squeezed.

She held the dagger for as long as she could, but intense pain spiderwebbed through her wrist, eliciting a ragged scream from her. The bastard had broken her wrist. The dagger fell to the ground with a dull
clang
.

Still holding her firmly in his grip, Mammon punched her, hitting her square on the jaw. Stars erupted in her vision. She must have blacked out, because when she came to, he straddled her, and fitted her wrists into a pair of manacles chained to the top of the metal-framed bed.

Her jaw and wrist were on fire, and the unpleasant tang of blood coated her throat.

“A warning,” he said, his voice smooth and full of control. “I don’t mind pain the way you so obviously do, and I heal a damn sight faster. So anything short of killing you is fair game.”

Panic and desperation overwhelmed her.

“No. No, please.” She stifled a scream as he jarred her injured wrist. It hurt so
freaking
bad.

“Hush.” Mammon sat back, smiling down at her. “Don’t like to be tied up, do you? I’ll have to remember that. For later.”

His words elicited deep-seated horror. Although she tried, she couldn’t hide it. All at once, she was that little girl again, whimpering in the trunk of the strange man’s car, wondering what he would do to her.

No. She couldn’t relive that scene. She couldn’t be helpless again.

She bucked upward. “Stop!”

Ignoring her, Mammon tore a heavy strip off his sheet and gagged her with it. “Don’t want you spilling our little secret, do we?”

He rose off the bed and walked to a small table in the corner. Lifting a large, heavy-looking sword, he turned back to her. Brynn struggled against her binds, biting on the gag to ease the pain of her shattered wrist.

Mammon looked on with an evil smile. “Perhaps if you had behaved, things would have worked out differently. But now, I’m going to kill your lover.”

Keegan must still be weak from blood loss, and on top of that he was fighting demons and zombies. He’d be no match for his father.

No.

“Don’t worry, dear.” Chuckling, Mammon walked back to her and patted her face. “I’m going to let you watch.”

§

Keegan fought as if his life depended on it. As if Brynn’s life depended on it. Because it probably did. He’d been too late to stop the army, but he could still save her life. Damn the Council. Damn Earth. All that mattered now was Brynn.

A zombie lunged at him, snapping its teeth as if it was dying for a taste.

He reared back, then swung his sword in a loose arc. It caught the zombie across the neck, slicing off its head. The head and body fell inches from each other, but even then, the headless body rose and crawled toward its skull, trying to reassemble itself. Keegan kicked the head and it flew across the field like a soccer ball.

They wouldn’t die, these fuckers. No matter how many times he hacked at them, the damned things kept putting themselves back together. And if the gory demon bits strewn about the camp were any indication, the zombies were hungry.

“You okay?” Taeg grunted beside him as he hacked away at a small group of zombies. Nearby, Ronin and Dagan, who’d flown in together, did the same.

“Yeah,” Keegan replied. Still weak as hell, his arm ached so bad he wanted to cry, but at least he was alive. All that mattered now was getting to Brynn.

“At least we don’t have to worry about the demons anymore,” Dagan called beside him.

That was true. The few demons who hadn’t hightailed it out of there were either currently fighting off zombies, or being snacked on by them.

“Do you see Brynn anywhere?” Ronin yelled.

“No.” Not that he could see much. The zombies appeared in waves, and residual plumes of smoke clouded his vision.

“Let’s try to flank him so he can fly out of here,” Taeg shouted.

Damn. He didn’t want to leave them but he had to find Brynn. Devil only knew what Mammon was doing to her.

After much slicing and hacking, his brothers managed to get him enough room to safely fly out. “I’ll be back.”

“Just go get her,” Taeg yelled as a zombie took a chunk of flesh out of his arm. He viciously hacked it in half. “Take that, you piece of shit.”

Keegan sure as hell didn’t want to leave his brothers in this position. But he took flight, nonetheless. Brynn was here somewhere. He dropped in front of Mammon’s tent, betting this would be the first place he’d take her. As he stepped inside, Mammon’s gritty laugh drifted from the rear of the tent.

Mammon, you fuck.

He ran to the back... and stopped, his blood turning to ice.

Mammon stood in front of Brynn, a sword in his hand. He’d chained her to the bed and gagged her, and she watched him with utter terror.

“No,” Keegan roared.

Mammon whirled, and Keegan focused all of his rage on his father. The bastard had tied her up. Made her afraid.

He was going to die.

“Keegan,” Mammon said. “I’ve been waiting for you, son. Here I was, telling your delicious little morsel that it wouldn’t be long until you came.” He looked back at Brynn and deliberately licked his lips. “And I’ll admit, she is delightful. Imagine all the fun we’ll have once you’re dead.”

Keegan charged him, sword swinging. Mammon jumped back and lifted his weapon in time to block the swing. Their swords connected with a loud
clang
and vibrations rattled Keegan’s arm, sending a jolt of agony spiraling upward.

“Why bother?” Mammon laughed. “You know you can’t win.”

Brynn struggled against her binds and mumbled something he couldn’t hear. Keegan ignored her, circling Mammon, who jabbed his sword toward Keegan’s throat. He blocked the thrust, staggering backward as Mammon advanced. Hitting the end table, Keegan kicked his foot up to shove Mammon away.

Mammon stumbled, but caught himself before he hit the ground. Keegan rushed him, but his father swung his sword the opposite direction than he’d expected. He sidestepped it, but not quickly enough. A gash opened on his cheek, and it immediately and painfully healed.

“Ha.” Mammon chuckled. “How does it feel, to always be second best to your father?”

“You’re nothing compared to me,” Keegan growled. Again he attacked, but Mammon parried his thrust.

“So say you. You are merely a cheap imitation of my greatness.” He bared his teeth. “I daresay your little heir will even think me a better lover.”

Keegan tried his best to ignore his father’s attempts to goad him into recklessness. Problem was, it was working. He advanced, swinging his sword in a high arc. Staggering back, Mammon blocked it. Keegan used the opportunity to move closer. He lifted his other fist and punched him, connecting solidly with his jaw.

Mammon untangled his sword and stumbled away, spitting blood to the side. “Lucky hit.”

“I’m feeling lucky,” Keegan replied. If only he really meant it. With his body bruised and sore and still weak from the loss of blood, he was certain he would pass out at any moment.