Soul Thief-Demon Trappers 2 (35 page)

Where is the angel? Or Beck and those damned hunters? Why is it just the two of us?

“Now!” Harper shouted, but his command came too late. A solid wall of air hit them like a jackhammer, causing Riley to tumble backward. As she rolled, she cradled the sphere so it wouldn’t break. Hail and rain slashed at her body like needles, the wind coming in unpredictable gusts so there was no way to brace herself against the onslaught. Through the torrent she saw Harper regain his feet. He didn’t wait for her but threw his sphere toward the old mangled fence. Enough of it was metal that the sphere caught hold and began to run its blue magic toward the demon.

Lightning slashed out of the sky and struck the ground near Riley’s feet. She yelped and jumped back, scorched earth filling her nose. She launched her sphere at the stretch of fence to the right of the fiend.

Abruptly, the wind shifted direction, coming from behind her now. It slammed her onto the ground, then relentlessly pushed her toward the demon. Riley skidded along on her belly, gravel imbedding itself into her knees and palms. She saw the demon’s outstretched hand, pulling her toward it. Wicked spikes extended from the fingers, spikes that would impale her before the fiend ripped her in half.

“Die, you bastard!” Harper yelled and threw another sphere. It was luminescent gold and it exploded with an earsplitting concussion underneath the Five. The demon roared and then began to flail in agony. The wind propelling Riley vanished. She clamored to her feet and cheered.

Below the demon the gold magic spread across the ground, separating it from its source of power. The fiend struggled and rose higher in the air. Then it waved a hand, bellowing in pain, and a deep pit yawned open. The spreading gold sank into its depths. With a mighty effort, the demon forced the hole closed, sealing the magic beneath the earth.

They had failed.

Enraged, the fiend turned its fiery eyes toward Harper. “Die, trapper,” it bellowed, and with a flick of a wrist, a blast of wind flung Harper backward toward the demolished building, rolling him over and over in the gravel. When he finally came to rest in a crumpled heap, the master didn’t move.

There were sirens in the distance, but the cops wouldn’t get here in time, not that they could do anything with a Geo-Fiend. There were no hunters, no angel, and no Beck. It looked like her dad was right: She’d be seeing him real soon. At least she’d be able to tell him she’d done her best.

The demon turned its Hellfire eyes on Riley. “Blackthorne’s daughter,” it called. “Your time has come.”

Hands quaking, Riley armed herself with two Holy Water spheres. They would do no real damage, but at least she’d make a fight of it.

No way I’m dying without knowing why.

“Is this because of the Armageddon thing?” she asked.

The demon’s reply was a roar that rivaled a jet engine. It filled her with such terror that her body went numb and the spheres tumbled from her hands to smash at her feet. The will to stand drained away and she slumped to her knees. “Why?” she demanded. “Tell me why!”

“You stand in the way,” the demon replied. With great effort, she forced herself to look at the fiend. It was closer now. She could feel heat radiating off it, and the acrid stench of brimstone made her gag.

“I’d better take it from here,” a voice said.

Ori?

He stood a few feet to her left, clad in light silver armor that seemed to generate its own light, his wings arched behind him. With a deep laugh that spoke more of revenge than mirth, he unsheathed a sword from the scabbard at his waist. The blade ignited in white-hot flames, crackling in the night.

“Omigod,” she whispered.

Riley pulled herself to her feet and hurried to her master’s side as the angel and the demon squared off. Harper was still breathing. She smiled, despite their turbulent history. He was like her—hard to kill.

*   *   *

The demon laughed
in derision, rising higher in the air, gaining strength as winds whirled around it. “You challenge me, Divine? Your bones break as easily as any mortal’s.”

“So do yours, Hellspawn.”

The demon sneered, revealing razored teeth among the flames. “We shall destroy all of you at the End of Days.”

Ori sighed. They were always like this—all Hellfire and retribution. He didn’t understand how Lucifer tolerated them. “You have violated the Eternal Oath. You know the punishment, Astaring.”

The demon snorted flames at the use of its true name. “I shall feast on your corpse, Divine, then I shall destroy Blackthorne’s child.”

“Not tonight,” Ori said, raising his blade. “Not ever.”

With a tremendous shout that even Heaven would have heard, the angel charged into battle.

A ferocious wind caught him mid-leap, but Ori used it to his advantage and spun in the air, landing a slicing blow to the fiend’s left shoulder. It shouted in pain, then slashed at him with its claws. One caught the trailing edge of a wing, ripping deep into the feathers and tendons.

A second before the other claw would have hooked him, Ori spun out of its reach. A sudden downdraft pulled him toward the earth. His wings acknowledged it, but the injured one didn’t have enough lift to counteract the plunge. As he fought to regain altitude, the demon cast a torrential rainstorm against him, drenching his wings and driving him hard into the red clay and gravel. Ori managed to scramble away to avoid being flattened by the fiend’s taloned foot.

Killing a weather-worker should have been nothing for a Divine, yet this one had more power than he’d ever seen. “Who is helping you?” Ori panted. “Name your demi-lord!”

“I shall tell you as you draw your last breath,” the demon promised.

A bolt of lightning sheared down from the sky, hitting Ori’s blade. He reeled back from the blow but did not drop the weapon. Instead, he channeled the power of the storm upward, gathering the wind, the rain, the hail, and the lightning into one massive strike. Then he threw it at the demon with every ounce of power he possessed.

As the fiend fought against the onslaught, Ori drove his blade deep into the beast’s chest. He carved through the ribs until its heart burst free, smoking black like hot tar. The demon’s eyes widened in fear.

“Boon…” it cried. “Boon I grant thee.”

“Death is thy boon,” the angel replied.

Ori unsheathed his sword from the demon’s chest and fell to his knees only a few feet away from his foe. The rogue was whispering, gathering in power, probably trying to heal itself.

The power around the demon shifted, grew stronger. With a final dying breath, it cast forth that energy in a shock wave that blew across the parking lot like a hurricane’s winds. Ori cried out a warning, but it was too late.

*   *   *

Riley awoke in
someone’s arms as a soft voice told her she was safe, that the demon was dead. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. It didn’t work. Everything was fuzzy, like she was looking through gauze.

“Hold very still,” Ori said. He gently touched a finger above one eye, then the other, and a tingle spread across her face. Riley blinked again and everything became clear. Then the angel took her hands in his and performed the same miracle. The gravel embedded in her palms dislodged as the wounds healed. He repeated the healing with her knees.

“That’s serious angel mojo,” Riley said, trying to smile.

“Better be.”

She forced herself to sit up. “You’re hurt!” His one wing bled, a brilliant blue fluid leaking from between the feathers.

“It is already healing. Do not worry,” he said. As she watched, the wing did knit together and the feathers grew back in place.

“Wow,” she said. That was the only word that seemed to apply. She turned to look at where the demon had been. There was just a smoking crater now. “Please tell me it’s dead.”

“Dead and buried, just as I promised.” He paused, as if hearing something she couldn’t. “Time for me to go. Your master killed the demon. Do you understand?”

“Why should I lie?”

“It’s for the best. They cannot know what I’ve done here.”

“But when will I see you again?”

“At the cemetery, tonight. Come to me when you can.”

“But what about—”

He touched a finger to the middle of her forehead and white light sent her into oblivion.

T
HIRTY-ONE

Someone held her, calling Riley’s name. The voice sounded so worried, frantic even.

“Ori?” she asked. When she opened her eyes she realized it wasn’t the angel. From the expression on the man’s face, he wasn’t happy she’d called him someone else’s name. Especially
that
name.

“Beck,” she said. His worried expression diminished.

“Thank God,” he said. “When I felt the earthquake, I thought ya were done for.”

Not yet.
“Harper?”

“Bitchin’ up a storm. He’ll be okay.” Beck looked around. “Must have been a helluva show,” he said, his voice thick. “Sorry I didn’t get here in time.”

She swallowed and then grimaced. Her mouth felt like it was full of dirt.

“Water?” she croaked.

He laid her back down and dug in his duffel bag. Then she was back in his arms sucking down the cool liquid. It felt so wonderful. She struggled to sit up, cradling the water bottle between her hands.

“Easy,” Beck warned.

She nodded, but sat up anyway. Her palms tingled. She inspected one: The skin was pink but there was no sign of the gravel burn.

No doubt about it. Angels are awesome.

She drank more of the water to clear her throat. “Harper went after it,” she said. “He told me to stay in that pit thing inside the building.”

“But ya didn’t stay, did ya?”

She shook her head. “I had to help him.”

A tortured sigh. “Well, yer alive and ya got the bastard. I just wish I’d been the one to take it down,” he said.

She realized it was more than just scoring a Five; it was all about Beck extracting revenge for her father’s death. “If you’d been here, you would have; I know it,” she said.

He gave her a nod, telling her he appreciated the gesture.

A paramedic knelt next to her. “How about you lay back down and I’ll check you out, okay?” the woman said.

Riley did as ordered, though she didn’t think anything was broken. She answered the paramedic’s questions until the woman was satisfied there were no serious injuries.

“I think it would be wise if you went to the hospital, just in case.”

Riley shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Your call.” The woman repacked her case and took off.

Riley sighed in relief and sat up again. Beck was near what was left of the building, talking to Jackson and a couple of the other trappers. Firemen milled around, and there were a few cops as well.

Her eyes skimmed across the parking lot to the smoking hole where the Five had been. Ori said he’d get the thing, and he had. He’d kept his word.
But why did he wait so long to show up?

She heard Harper’s voice, sharp and sarcastic. He was sitting upright, holding an ice pack to his head, growling at the paramedic who kept fussing with him.

You’re just a tough old bird, aren’t you?
But when the time had come, he’d protected her. That she hadn’t expected.

When Riley stood her head spun, so she waited until she regained her balance and then walked across the debris-strewn parking lot to her master.

He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. “Brat,” he said.

“Master Harper.”

His paramedic tried the same “You should go to the hospital” spiel with him and failed just as miserably. Once the fellow had cleared off and they were alone, Harper eyed her.

“So where the hell’s the demon?” he asked so quietly only she could hear him.

She knelt next to him. “Dead,” she said. “You killed it.”
Please don’t ask me how.

He frowned. “I don’t remember doing that.”

Time to change the subject.
“You could have let that thing flatten me, but you didn’t. Why?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

She was too tired to edit her mouth. “You’re my master. I couldn’t let that thing kill another trapper, even if I think he’s a total asshat.”

Harper looked at her for a long time then cracked a toothy grin. “And you’re one mouthy bitch, but you’re my apprentice. I don’t need the reputation that my people die because I don’t protect them.”

That was fair.

He slowly turned toward the building, and the grin fled. She followed his gaze. The back wall was still intact, but the front was a mound of concrete blocks and protruding metal. Steam rose from a couple of the piles, curling up into the air. Papers fluttered in a light breeze, and the office chair’s legs stuck up into the air like an overturned turtle.

“Damn, I really loved that place,” Harper murmured.

How could anyone love an old smelly garage?

“My dad was a mechanic,” he replied, as if he’d read her mind. “I used to hang around and watch him work on cars. He could fix anything.”

“So this place reminded you of him?” Riley asked, intrigued.

“Yeah.”

“Was he a trapper?”

A nod. “He died taking down an Archdemon when I was sixteen.” Harper swallowed and then coughed, hard. He looked up at her, no hint of arrogance in those ancient eyes. “It’s why I became a trapper.”

He’d suffered a loss just like hers. She never would have guessed.

“Riley?” Beck called out.

She welcomed the interruption. It felt strange having a regular conversation with Harper, and she suspected his next move would be to destroy this touchy-feely moment with a caustic remark.

Riley rose. When her balance faltered, Beck caught her elbow. They both turned as four black vans pulled into the parking lot, one after another, throwing gravel as they screeched to a halt.

“Took them long enough,” Beck grumbled. One of the hunters stood out immediately: His body language told Riley he was in charge. He ordered his men to fan out, then headed her way.

“Who’s that?” she asked.