How to Lose a Demon in 10 Days (25 page)

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Authors: Saranna DeWylde

BOOK: How to Lose a Demon in 10 Days
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C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-THREE
Breaking Point
I
’d be very impressed with how tough she is if it weren’t thwarting me.” Nadja sighed. “The horrors I’ve put her through would make you cry like a bitch, Michael. Maybe your demon will have better luck.”
“I’m not letting that thing out of its cage.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” Nadja said. “Your contract is due tonight, and you’re not going to pay with Grace until she calls for Seraphim Stregaria.
You make this happen.
” She stamped her foot.
Michael eyed his mother with disdain, then grabbed her by the hair. “You have disrespected me one too many times, Nadja.” He shoved her down into a chair and got an inch from her face. “If you do it again, I’ll pluck that magick stone from your breast and swallow it whole. Now, I’ll get you Seraphim, but
after
I have achieved my demonhood. I’ll not roast in the fires of Hell for your revenge plot. Do you understand me?”
Nadja was so startled and proud that she had tears in her eyes. Her boy was strong! “Yes, Michael. You’re such a good boy.” He tugged her hair hard enough to pull some strands out before letting go.
Going into the back room, Michael came back with a leather-bound package containing tools and special instructions for his sacrifice. But as he was about to head down the stairs to the cellar, Ethelred appeared. The demon stood in his way.
“You shouldn’t kill her. Not now.”
“I’ve only got three hours. To do the carving right, I’ll need all of them. And, why shouldn’t I do it now?” Michael was frustrated, but he would also hear out what the demon had to say. He’d been smart enough in writing his contract to demand Ethelred warn him when he was about to put his foot in it.
“Your sacrifice is meaningless without Seraphim. The Baba Yaga must bear witness. So, Nadja, you will get your wish.”
Ethelred sat down at one of the bar tables, giving a slight nod toward the resurrected witch. He looked around the bar and turned up his nose, then waved his hands and performed some magick. A tablecloth stitched by Carmelite nuns appeared on the table, along with his trusty china and a piping hot pot full of Irish Breakfast tea. “I believe you should be expecting company. Would you care for some, Nadja? No? Suit yourself.”
“Are you going to make her call on her granny, or am I?” Nadja asked her son.
“
I’ll
do it!” Katerina said as she came through the door.
“Company. What did I say?” Ethelred shrugged.
Nadja was speechless, and Michael just gaped.
“Lay a hand on me, Michael, and leprosy will rot your dick off. Got it?” Katerina warned.
He was still too startled to answer, because this was the second time this week someone had threatened to do unspeakable things to his cock.
“Where is she?” Katerina asked.
“The cellar.”
“Tea?” Ethelred turned to offer her some.
“No—but thank you. Maybe Petru would like some. He’ll be here shortly.”
“You’re a good woman, Miss Katerina.” Ethelred winked.
“She’s a whore. Don’t you call her Miss-anything,” Nadja commanded.
“Nadja, you always were big for your britches. Miss Katerina may sell her body, but she’s a lady through and through. You’ll not be treating her badly any longer.”
“Is it an epidemic? First that idiot demon of Grace’s grows a heart and now you,
you’re
telling me that I need to be kind?” she sneered. “You’re from Hell.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to be rude or unkind.” Ethelred took another sip of his tea.
“Yeah, I think it does. Otherwise, you’re missing the whole bloody point.”
“Or you are,” he returned.
That was when Ethelred noticed something peculiar. His hands had changed. His fingers were longer, more elegant. Not that he’d been bad looking before, though most men with sausage fingers were unattractive. As a demon, he was marked by his hands. They were nature’s way of showing the world just how poisonous he was.
But, this could only mean that Caspian was dead. Even if the other demon had chosen a human existence, his crown wouldn’t pass until his mortal life ended. Ethelred felt a heaviness in his chest where a heart might have been. He’d wished Caspian nothing but the best with Grace, and he’d also harbored a secret hope that someday they all would find a certain companionship.
A heart? He supposed maybe you could be a demon and have one; it just wasn’t widely publicized. It made their jobs easier if no one knew that they had feelings. Also, after living so long, one could go numb, feel like one’s heart was gone entirely—but that didn’t mean it was.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-FOUR
Betrayal
K
aterina didn’t even wait to hit the last stair before she called Seraphim. “Baba Yaga, protect us!” Even though she wasn’t in any direct danger, Nadja’s presence was enough to warrant Seraphim’s attention.
“No!” Grace screamed. She’d fought so hard to prevent this, and all for naught.
There was no fanfare accompanying her grandmother’s arrival, none of the earthshaking showmanship that had marked her appearance in Grace’s apartment; the materialization was a quiet affair. Seraphim appeared—and as soon as she did, Nadja was on her like a nuclear-mutated leech.
Before Grace’s grandmother could react, Nadja bit into her flesh. Her magick was ready, ramped up, and waiting, and within moments she was consuming the power and life force of the world’s last Baba Yaga. Katerina shrieked as she saw what she’d done, saw all hope draining away into the evil that was Nadja.
Seraphim cried out and clawed her attacker, tried to use her magick, but she’d already lost too much strength. The beast that inhabited and empowered Nadja fed ravenously, and when Katerina tried to pull the Baba Yaga free, Nadja was as strong as three men. She tossed the blonde away like a rag doll, watched her collapse against the hard stone floor.
Seraphim Stregaria fell next, the last of her blood oozing out in a dark pool. The power that had sustained her was gone.
Her strength doubled, Nadja took in all the magick of the Baba Yaga. It changed her in a way that it hadn’t Seraphim. It made her stronger, yes. It made her bigger, too, and less feminine. Her eyebrows thickened, meeting in the middle and growing slightly down the bridge of her nose. Her forehead creased and crinkled, and her arms elongated, her knuckles dragging on the floor. Her beautiful hair fell out in clumps, and sores erupted on her creamy skin. A great wart stood out from her cheek, and her spine bent and curved, forcing her to lean forward. Now all of Nadja’s ugliness was on the outside, but she had what she wanted. She was the world’s preeminent witch.
“
This
is the horror described to me as a child,” Katerina whispered.
But, there was hope. The gem still flashed with color in Nadja’s chest and surged with power. Katerina said a small prayer before closing her eyes and lurching upright, staggering forward and digging her fingers into the soft, rotten flesh of her enemy’s chest. She tore the jewel free.
Nadja should have fallen over dead, but it was too late; the powers of the Baba Yaga kept her alive. She staggered, but remained upright. Katerina ran to Grace, trying to untie her before the creature reached them. It was difficult, because her hands kept shaking, but at last she succeeded.
Grace was staring at her grandmother. The old woman’s crumpled form was motionless, and it seemed clear she was dead. The pain of that loss reminded her of another, and of the quartz she had in her pocket. All of that pain, all of that despair . . . It gave her the idea of shoving it into the hole where Nadja’s other heart-stone had been. Wouldn’t that wreak all Grace’s pain and suffering down on Nadja? She would rot in misery—and no one deserved it more.
Grace had the stone in hand; she even held it up with every intention of slamming it into Nadja’s body for everything she’d done. Her hand fairly shook with the need to make the witch pay, but before she could act she remembered what she’d learned lying on that slab. Who was she to pass judgment on another? Who was she to condemn, especially when she didn’t know what had made this evil woman what she was?
It wasn’t what she wanted to do. If she’d thought about it beforehand, this would never have been her plan, and she would never have thought herself able to follow through. But what she did was hug the monstrous woman. She turned and threw her arms around Nadja Grigorovich, threw her arms around her and hugged her. The Universe had been clear in its lesson.
Visions lurched through her brain. She saw Michael’s father doing terrible things to Nadja. She saw Michael doing terrible things, including making the pact that cast the memory spell regarding Nikoli. She saw Nadja doing terrible things. This family was evil. Theirs was a cycle of violence, a cycle of horrors that seemed to have no end. But who was Grace to do anything but pity these people, to offer them sympathy and love and hope? Wasn’t love what had given her a shot at happiness with Caspian, even if events had turned out so horribly? Wasn’t love what allowed her to get past the evil spell making her believe she and Michael had a child? It was a horrible risk—and yet her only hope. It was humanity’s only hope.
The quartz of suffering shattered in her hand, and the pieces scattered from her palm like so much dust. There was a flash of light and her grandmother’s body vanished. So did Nadja Grigorovich.
Grace shook her head. She didn’t know what had happened but decided not to hang around and ponder her good fortune. Instead, she should get out of Dodge, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Whatever had happened, it was all fine with her.
She didn’t know the blond woman who’d come to help her, but she grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. Only to crash into Michael.
“Where are you going, Grace? We have a date.”
The blond woman stepped between them. “Remember what I said about the leprosy and your dick falling off? Did you think that was a joke? Just let us go. Make it easier on yourself.”
Michael smiled savagely and ripped a charm from her neck. Crunching it beneath his boot like a dead leaf, he waited a second and then grabbed the blonde by the wrist. Forcing her hand against his cock he said, “It’s still there, bitch. And maybe I’ll be taking it for a test drive on you later. Cutting this one up will be hot work, and it’s been a while since we were together, Katerina.”
The blonde’s earlier bravado was gone. She screamed as Michael twisted her wrist.
Grace slumped in defeat. Had all those beautiful words about love been a joke? Was evil to win after all? “Stop, Michael. Just stop. I won’t fight you anymore. Don’t hurt anyone else. Let her go, please.”
“Turn around. We have a sacrifice to begin.”
Grace thought that was an apt description. This was indeed a sacrifice. She wished it would bring back the people she loved, but she knew that was impossible. But maybe it could help this other woman. Maybe. Grace felt a kinship with Katerina, and she prayed that her acquiescence would do the blond woman some good. And while she’d never thought she’d walk willingly to her own death, not for anyone but perhaps her fictitious child, there had been so much suffering. And Caspian was gone, gone, gone. What was left? What was left but to do some good with the life she had left?
“Michael, promise me that you’ll let her go.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m making a deal. My cooperation . . . my soul for her life. It’s a good deal, Michael.”
He stared at her for a moment. “In blood,” he said, drawing a knife from a leather pouch.
“In blood,” she agreed.
He drew a first dark sigil on the inside of her wrist, deep enough to draw blood but too shallow to nick a vein. By the time he was done, her entire body would be covered in such markings and she would be praying for it to be over. She already was.
A bright white light burned her eyes, gathering to illuminate the shadows.
Michael saw it, too. He said, “Morning Star comes to make me a demon.”
The light grew brighter and brighter until Grace had to close her eyes; it was like looking into the sun. Michael stopped in his cutting, used his arm to shield his eyes. There came a great shaking, an earthquake ten times more intense than the show Seraphim once put on for her benefit.
Pieces of the building began to fall down all around them, and the ceiling splintered. Whole parts of the bar just vanished as if they had never been. A warm yellow light balanced out the agony of white. Out of nowhere there came a thousand voices singing Mozart in her ear.
“Enough! I have had enough!”
A tall figure with golden skin and white hair flowing down his back stepped out of the light. Grace could only see the waves of his hair and she wondered if he was a demon, too. But then he turned and she saw his eyes. It wasn’t hellfire that glittered there, but moonbeams and clouds. He had a sharp nose and high cheekbones. His eyelashes looked like snowflakes. He was almost as beautiful as Caspian.
“You have learned all the lessons we could possibly ask, Grace Eden. You’ve found the courage to sacrifice yourself for others, to love even when all you love has been taken away and there is no expectation of recompense. You have earned all that I am about to give you.”
Michael looked both surprised and horrified. He tried to stab the figure with his ceremonial knife, but the weapon bounced off the newcomer’s skin like it was a toy and the luminous being shackled Michael with a collar that erupted in spiny bone spikes out of his throat—as if it were part of his flesh.
“I am Raphael,” the figure said, his attention back on Grace. Wings spread behind him like a banner. “A Crown Prince of Heaven.”
Through the tears slipping down her face, she saw his wings weren’t the same color as the great white sea behind him. They were downy, but they radiated a lavender aura. Just like her own.
Caspian suddenly materialized. The first thing he said was, “Hell.”
“Caspian? How?” Grace looked at Raphael, who nodded his assent before she ran to him.
“Adversary,” the Crown Prince of Heaven acknowledged.
Caspian returned the pleasantry. “Your Highness.” “What? Why did he call you that?” Grace collapsed against her beloved, smearing her blood on him from where Michael had mutilated her but not caring in the least. She doubted he cared, either. She felt suddenly whole. Her life had been renewed.
“Sorry I was late,” Caspian said. “I had a serious case of dead.” He supported her weight easily as he swept her into his arms.
“Take care of my daughter,” Raphael said, and then he was gone. So was Michael.
“Always,” Caspian said, as if the vanished prince could still hear. He glanced back down at Grace. “Looks like you’re both demon and angel, my love.”
She smiled up at him. “Just like every other woman that’s ever walked the earth.”
Caspian laughed. “All of this and still a saucy reply. What would I do without you?”
“Be miserable and bored until the end of your days.”
“There is that. Definitely.”
She sighed in that moonstruck heiferlike way she’d been trying to avoid, but what did she care anymore? “I love you, Caspian.” Why hadn’t she told him before? Why hadn’t she told him a thousand times?
“I went through Hell for you, so you’d better.”
He held her tighter and just breathed in her scent, which was a lot like peanut butter at the moment. He was clearly waiting for her to be upset that he didn’t say it back, but she was just content to be in his arms.
“You know that I love you, Grace. Don’t you?”
“That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to hear it,” Grace said. “Will you say it again?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ll tell you as often as you’d like.
I love you.
”
She looked up, drinking him in. She’d thought she’d never see his face again. Never see his smile, or feel his lips . . . Brushing a curl from his forehead, she held thankful joy in her heart.
That was when she saw the burning crown that hovered over his head.
“What’s this?”
Caspian didn’t answer. He said, “I came here fully prepared to bring Armageddon to this little part of the world, but Raphael beat me to it. He was a lot calmer about the whole thing. Should we send him a thank-you note, do you think?”
“Bring Armageddon? Hades . . .?” Grace asked.
“He has retired to a ranch in Texas—with Seraphim,” he added, seeing the sadness in her heart.
“How?”
“Always asking how. Hades was right, though. It’s cute. And I think all of the answers will come in time. Your father’s gifts are going to make a big difference in your life.”
“My father. I’d like to get to know him,” Grace mused.
Caspian shook his head. “Look here, girly. I need you to not be thinking about him for a while.” He grinned at her. “I’ve been dead for some time, but now I’m back as the Prince of Darkness. It’s time to raise a little hell.” He gave a sly wink and glanced down at her breasts, then at his crotch. Grace could just imagine what was going on beneath his jeans. In fact, she spent a little time doing just that.
She tilted her face up to his, and when their lips met, that was when she knew that Happily Ever After was like love. It wasn’t a destination, but a journey. And the whole thing was heaven.

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