It Happened One Doomsday (20 page)

They made it almost halfway up the steps before the creature emerged from the darkness. Its acid-green eyes burned as it climbed the steps behind them with a clatter of sharp claws. Its toothy jaw opened wide, as if waiting for a tasty morsel to pop into its mouth.

Dru dropped the torch. It guttered against the stone, leaving them in a shrinking circle of dying light. She grabbed the cube of galena tight in one hand, and with the other she fumbled for Greyson's hand, finding it only at the last second.

Touching him unlocked a torrent of magical energy within her. It surged up her arm and shuddered through her fingertips into the galena.

The crystal flared with a cold blue glow, as if spotlights had been trained on it from all directions, reflecting off its pitted, mirrored faces. A high-pitched ringing sound whined in her ears. Loud, sharp, and pure.

At the burst of light, the creature halted its charge. It raised its scaly arms against the surreal glow and cringed behind its gnarled claws. Between its thick fingers, one wide, snakelike eye peeked at the shining crystal.

“Keep climbing,” Dru said breathlessly. “Right now.”

Greyson backed up a step, then another. She matched his movements. She didn't dare take her eyes off the creature, though the galena's burning light made her eyes water.

As Rane charged up the stairs, Dru kept one hand tight in Greyson's, guiding him up one step at a time. She held the shining crystal high.

The creature climbed after them, pacing them.

Rane's brassy voice echoed down. “Dru! We've got a Mustang!”

Dru risked a puzzled glance back, catching a glimpse of Rane's silhouette at the top of the stairs, dark against the stark, empty whiteness of the doorway to the garage. Then she was gone.

From above, an aggressive rumble surged to life. The sudden noise rolled down the stone steps like a crack of thunder.

As they neared the top, Dru finally identified the sound.

An engine. An old, powerful one, like Hellbringer's. Its heavy exhaust notes thudded through the air like the beating wings of some giant primordial creature, pierced by the sharp squeal of tires.

“Oh,” Dru whispered to herself. “
Mustang
.”

24

CARDIO FOR THE CASUAL SORCERESS

The sound of squealing tires ended in a cruel impact of metal, sending a jolt of cold fear shooting through Dru's body. Without thinking, she let go of Greyson and ran up the last few steps. “Rane!”

Instantly, the galena in her hand dimmed from the glow of a brilliant spotlight to the murky blush of a nightlight. Greyson let out a grunt of surprise.

The creature below them on the stairs shrieked with triumph. Its claws clattered up toward them.

The garage beyond the doorway blazed with blinding sunlight from one of its hangar-style doors, now open to the desert sun. The vast white interior was broken only by the aggressive red outlines of an old Ford Mustang, its tire treads caked with the sand it had tracked in from outside.

Through the windshield, Dru could easily see that no one sat at the wheel. Yet the engine revved with an evil, earsplitting rumble.

The Mustang looked pristine, except for a cavernous dent in its front fender that quickly straightened itself out. The red paint bled where it had cracked, smoothing over to become whole and flawless once again. The chrome trim eased itself back into place.

Across the garage, Rane rose unsteadily to her feet, glaring at the car.

Her whole body had taken on the mottled brown-and-white smoothness of her polished flint ring. As she turned to face the Mustang, she planted her feet with a sound like falling rocks.

The engine revved.

Rane shot a warning glance at Dru where she stood just inside the secret door, then nodded almost imperceptibly toward the open garage door. Telling her to make a break for it.

Dru shook her head no. Rane would not face this alone.

Rane sidestepped away from Dru and beckoned the car with one outstretched finger. “Hey, rust bucket. Bring it.”

The Mustang revved in place, hood shaking, rear wheels spinning up stinking clouds of burned rubber. It launched straight at Rane. She dodged out of the way, rolling on one shoulder to come up behind the car.

Greyson charged up the steps, the creature close behind him, and pushed Dru through the doorway into the garage. The green-eyed demon flew up the stairs and boiled out of the darkness, claws outstretched.

“Wait!” Dru turned back and aimed a kick at the halite crystal she'd left in the corner of the doorway, sending it flying into the darkness. With a sizzle of invisible energy, the warding spell on the door slammed shut. A blast of static-filled air blew Dru's hair back.

A split-second later, the creature slammed head-on into the invisible warding spell. It flattened out against the unseen barrier, inches away, its scaly hide pressed up against the ward as if it was a pane of glass. Blinding arcs of energy, no doubt powerful enough to kill a human, streaked out from all edges of the doorway and converged on the demon, driving it back.

“Hah!” Dru backed away and jabbed a finger in the demon's direction. “Gotcha!”

The garage filled with the echoes of the Mustang's engine as it revved higher and higher. But the car didn't move. Rane now stood directly behind it, motionless as an Egyptian monolith, every muscle bulging as she lifted the Mustang by its chrome rear bumper.

Her face darkened into a mask of strain as the car's rear wheels spun uselessly in a blur of black rubber and white letters, suspended a few inches over the concrete floor. Her cheeks bulged. Her lips puckered with the effort, revealing clenched teeth.

Glancing from the demonic Mustang on one side to the fanged creature trapped on the other, Dru racked her brain for a solution. This time, she didn't have any spray paint. But she did have Greyson's potion in the Prius. Could she use that against the Mustang?

Rane's arms shook with the effort. “Can't . . . hold on.”

On the other side of the invisible barrier behind them, the demon shook itself off and pressed its scaly hands together. A glyph glowed on its right hand like a hot ember. Not the symbol of scales that had appeared on Greyson's hands, but the symbol of a sword.

An ominous flicker of firelight shone through the demon's claws. With a flare of light, a long blade composed entirely of flames grew from the demon's hands.

Baleful, reptilian eyes locked on Greyson. The demon drew back its sword and swung at the invisible barrier.

Dru pushed Greyson aside just as blinding crackles of electricity from the sword's impact shattered the spell into a fountain of fiery fragments. A piercing sizzle cut through the garage.

“Come on!” Dru ran out through the open garage door, hoping Greyson would follow. “We need the potion!”

The demon's chilling howl followed her out into the brilliant sunlight. She flew down the length of the sandy driveway, toward the diminutive white lump of Nate's car parked in front of the mansion. Her breath burned in her lungs. Her footsteps crunched in the sand.

It took every bit of Dru's resolve not to stop and go back for Rane. But they had to get the potion first, while the Mustang was immobilized. It was their only chance.

In the flat distance, two dust clouds rose on the horizon, drawing closer.

The other two Horsemen, Dru realized. Coming after Greyson, to complete the circle. To gather together the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

Greyson opened the driver's door and started the car.

“Take us back into the garage,” she said as she got in next to him. As Greyson whipped the car around toward the garage, she picked up the skull-shaped potion bottle from beneath the passenger seat. “If I pour this into the Mustang's gas tank, it could have the same effect on the car as it has on you. Break the demonic connection.”

“One hell of a carburetor cleaner,” Greyson muttered.

“
Hell
is right.”

Ahead of them, the driverless red Mustang suddenly shot out of the dark mouth of the garage, dragging Rane. Her fingers were locked onto the chrome back bumper, flint feet scraping on the ground, showering sparks behind her.

“Time for plan B,” Greyson said. “If the airbags go off, just push them off of you.”

“Airbags?” Dru shot a terrified glance at him, but his gaze was locked intensely on the oncoming red Mustang.

Greyson hunched over the wheel, one hand steering, the other reaching for the emergency brake. “Seat belt!” he barked.

Dru yanked her seat belt into place. Just as it clicked home, the Mustang veered straight for them. Its chrome grill flashed, sunlight gleaming from its headlights.

Before the red car could ram them head-on, Greyson swerved the little Prius out to the side, then whipped back in tight, striking the Mustang on its back corner.

The Mustang spun away into the sand, flinging Rane through the air. She hit the ground and rolled, blending into the rocks as she tumbled.

Greyson kept the little car drifting sideways across the sand until it slid to a stop alongside Rane. “Get in!” he shouted through the closed window, making Dru's left ear ring.

Outside, Rane stood up, tottered dizzily, and fell over again.

Wincing, Dru unbuckled her seat belt and burst out of the car. In two quick steps, she was at Rane's side. She tried to lift her, but in stone form, the woman weighed a ton. Maybe literally. “Turn human!” Dru begged her.

“Screw that,” Rane said. “Where'd that hunk of junk go?”

The Mustang swung back around onto the driveway, its tires spinning. It straightened out and headed toward them again, engine roaring.

Still in stone form, Rane climbed to her feet. “I can take him.”

“No. His friends are coming. Get in!” Dru pointed to the back seat of the Prius, then got into the passenger seat and buckled up. Rane climbed in behind her, making the car sink almost to the ground. With a surreal sense of detachment, Dru noticed that the airbags had never gone off. So much for safety features. Or had Greyson intended that?

“What is that thing doing?” Greyson mused.

Instead of ramming them, the Mustang cruised past to the garage and slowed to a halt, engine thudding. From the darkness of the garage, the reptilian demon streaked out, pounding on all fours toward the Mustang. The red door on the driver's side swung open, waiting for it.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Rane said from the back seat. “That's one of the Four Horsemen?”

Greyson swore under his breath and launched the car back onto the driveway, heading away from the garage. No matter how well he drove, Dru knew they didn't have any chance of outrunning the demon car. Especially not with Rane's weight in the back seat.

From the look on Greyson's face as he checked the rearview mirror, he was thinking the same thing. “Even if we make it back to the main road, he'll catch us.”

“We still have to get past those guys,” Dru said. She pointed into the distance, where the two dust clouds had converged into one huge plume. The mean profiles of a sleek, old silver sports car and a blocky white truck raged toward them, side by side, filling the road.

“Bronco. Ferrari. Late sixties.” Greyson glared at the dirt road ahead, the muscles taut in his face. “Each of them has something behind the wheel.”

Some
thing
. Not some
one
.

“We have to get off this road.” Dru craned her head around, looking for some way out. She spotted the stone archway in the distance, behind the mansion, and remembered the symbols on the diagram.

“
Sekura koridoro
,” she whispered.
Safe road. Escape route.

She pointed. “That way! Turn! Now!”

“Hang on!” Greyson stomped on the brakes. The Prius pitched forward hard, then leaned steeply to the side as he whipped the car into a claustrophobic reverse skid.

The Mustang roared past in a blood-colored blur. It tore off Dru's passenger side mirror with a crack like a baseball bat hitting a line drive.

Greyson drove off the pitted road and into the sand, fishtailing his way up a steep rise. The Prius burst over the top of the rise in a spray of dirt and an explosion of dry grass.

They trundled down the treacherous far side of the rise, toward the archway in the distance. As they went over rocks and bushes, the entire car shook, rattling Dru to the bone.

“You realize,” Dru said, her teeth chattering, “this is not an off-road vehicle.”

“This was your plan,” Greyson shot back.

“I
meant
take the
road
out to the archway.”

“Next time, be more specific.”

Greyson steered through a maze of rocks, scrub brush, and dry gullies, yanking the wheel left and right. Spiky yucca plants scraped down the sides of the car, the sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. Loose rocks and bushes pelted the windshield.

Dru cringed. Some neurotic part of her brain that she couldn't shut down told her that no amount of car wax or detailing would fix Nate's beloved little earth-friendly car.

The stone archway loomed up ahead. Dru pointed. “Over there!”

“We've got company,” Rane said flatly.

Greyson looked back over his shoulder, eyes fierce with alarm. “That thing doesn't give up.”

The red Mustang charged down the brush-covered hill after them, bounding over rises like a living creature. Its tires gouged the desert hillside as it closed in.

From behind, Rane's solid rock arms locked around Dru, like a safety bar at a carnival ride. So tight Dru could barely breathe.

“I got you,” Rane whispered in her ear. For once, Dru was thankful for Rane's uncomfortable embrace.

“Almost there,” Greyson said under his breath, over and over, like a prayer. “Almost there . . .” They darted around one boulder, then another. His eyes flicked up at the rearview mirror again, and his voice kicked up to an urgent shout. “Heads up!”