Magic - Chapter 62
There was only one person who I knew had hired the Firestarter before, and I’d sworn the next time I saw that smarmy rat, I’d kill him.
This is the second book in The Godsverse Chronicles, a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.
Ollie wasn't looking for trouble, but after she saved the Antichrist from being slaughtered, it came for her.
Ollie lived by one rule. Never get involved with anyone for any reason; humans, demons, fae folk, it didn't matter. They were all trouble. Keeping her distance was how she survived in the criminal underworld for so long.
Keep your head down and don't piss anyone off. That was her motto, especially since her clients all had access to powerful dark magic.
She thought she had a flawless system for keeping her nose clean, so how did she wind up in a stolen car, with a demon spawn in her back seat, driving away from her ex-lover and a gang of demons ready to skin her alive?
That's a good question.
And why did she agree to help save the demon's life so she didn't get sacrificed to open the gates of Hell?
An even better question.
She had one rule. One stupid rule. And tonight...it goes right down the toilet.
Now, the only way for Ollie to get her life back is to save the girl, prevent the Apocalypse, and track down the people who betrayed her.
They will pay. Oh yes, they will all pay.
The turtle skeleton led us down an ornate hallway. I didn’t know how Et’atal managed to get gold to hold together as a solid in Hell since it had an incredibly low boiling point, but he basically painted the whole of his castle with it. Gold rugs, gold tapestries, paintings trimmed in gold—it was like Donald Trump’s apartment threw up on every wall, gaudy and ugly as anything I’d ever seen.
At the end of the long entry hall, a throne with a high back rose ten feet into the air and featured two dragons locked in an epic battle. A demon draped in a black suit with a golden cape sat there. He looked considerably less monstrous than any I had seen before, except maybe my father. He stroked a thin goatee as we walked toward him, and I noticed him twirling the dagger in his hand.
“Your majesty,” the turtle skeleton said. “The prisoners you requested.”
“Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you would arrive.” Et’atal descended the marble steps. “The minute you got away from the pits, I knew I had to meet you.” He pointed at Blezor. “You must be Blezor.” Then, he spun to Aimee. "And you, then, are the Firestarter. So nice to meet you finally.” He shook Aimee’s hand before he reached me. “Oleander White. You are a legend here in Hell. You’ve sent many of my best men back here with their tails between their legs.” He snapped his fingers, and Balaam and Moloch, the two mooks I iced on the Solstice, walked out of doors on either side of the throne.
“Did you plan that?” I asked. “Because that kind of coordination is impossible without some kind of rehearsal.”
He chuckled. “You caught me. I’m a bit of a showman. I love a good bit of theater, and you three have been more than a little entertaining.” He returned to his throne and sat down. “Tell me, was it hard to leave your friends behind, knowing what we would do to them when we learned you escaped?”
“Yes,” I replied, a bit of regret in my voice. “But it was the right choice for the mission and to get my revenge on you.”
“Revenge is a funny word,” he said, gesturing toward Balaam and Moloch. “These two have been thinking about nothing else but getting revenge on you. When I told them you were coming, they were thrilled.”
“Charlie told you, I assume?” Aimee said. “Where is the little bastard?”
“I don’t keep imps on the payroll. He delivered my prize, told me about you, collected his payment, and left.”
“Too bad,” I replied. “I would have liked to take revenge on him, too.”
“Oh, you’ll have the chance. He has a knack for returning to Earth, even against my father’s wishes. Me, on the other hand,” Et’atal slammed his hand on the throne. “I’m stuck here, forever—or I was, at least, until now.” He held up the dagger. “You have delivered to me the means of my escape.”
“Over my dead body,” I said.
“No,” he pointed at Aimee. “Over hers. Her body is needed for the sacrifice.” He snapped his fingers. “Bring the Firestarter to me, kill the orc, and do what you will with the Nephilim.” Balaam and Moloch stepped toward us. “They’re much stronger in Hell, but I’m sure you already learned that.”
Balaam threw a haymaker, and I ducked to avoid it, socking him in the stomach. Moloch grappled with Blezor, while Aimee stood there, frozen, pale as a sheet. After Shi’lo’s death, she had no power. She was just a frightened human surrounded by demons. I wasn’t going to let her die. I dropped my shoulder and tossed Balaam up the steps. Et’atal ducked to avoid being hit but stayed seated as the demon slid off the throne.
“Hide!” I screamed to Aimee, and she hobbled for the door.
I ran across the throne room and grabbed Moloch by his neck, slamming him down hard enough to crack the stone floor.
“Do you know how much it costs to replace—” Et’atal shouted. “Not cool.”
Balaam had recovered and rushed me again. I tried to block him, but he was faster than I could parry, and he grabbed me around the neck.
“NO!” Blezor screamed, ramming his head into Balaam’s stomach hard enough to cause him to release me.
I kicked off the ground just in time to see Balaam rip Blezor in half with his bare hands and toss him across the room. Blood flew everywhere. It was two on one with two demons that didn’t look fazed at all while I was sweating bullets, barely able to stand against them.
“This is delightful,” Et’atal said. “Nothing is sweeter than watching a dream dashed at my feet. Moloch. Balaam! Finish her off.”
I leaped over their attack and rolled onto the ground. When I popped up, I rushed up the stairs as fast as I could. Et’atal raised the dagger in his hand, but I dodged his arm and grabbed for it, pulling the knife from his hand just as he smacked me back across the room.
“She has the dagger! Get her!”
What was that thing that Shi’lo said? I needed to embrace my demon side? That sounded good just about now. Moloch attacked first, and I spun around him and stabbed him in the back. He yelped for a moment and then disappeared into dust.
“Moloch!” Balaam yelled. He went in a berserker rage, swinging wildly. I had seen it in a demon’s eyes before. They were never as powerful and never as reckless. He scratched, clawed, and rushed at me, but if I could find an opening—ah, there it is. He swung high, and I jabbed the dagger into his side. He looked at me, scared, for a second, before he turned to dust.
“You can’t do this!” Et’alal screamed. “I’ll have a hundred demons here in a second, and you’ll be sorry.”
I knelt next to Blezor’s face—wide-eyed, tongue hanging out, glassy-eyed, lifeless. He followed me everywhere I went and did everything I asked, and some things I didn’t, and I never gave him his due. I was sorry about that. I looked into his eyes one last time and then shut them forever. One day, I might see him in Hell again, but I hoped that day was a long time away.
“I don’t think this was a very good plan,” I said, walking back toward the throne.
“Can I come out now?” Aimee asked.
“I think so. He doesn’t look like much of a threat anymore.” It was true. Et’atal was shaking in fear. In the end, he was nothing but a coward. “And you’ll never hurt another again.”
“That’s what you think. Right now, every demon in Hell is on its way here. If you kill me, my father will take no mercy on you.” He smiled. “If you spare me, then I can have a very interesting impact on your fate.”
I pulled the dagger back. “You already have.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Et’atal shouted. “If you spare me, I’ll tell you how to get to the lake of fire and destroy the dagger.”
“We already know how to destroy it!”
“Ha!” Et’atal said. “We told you what we wanted you to know. The Black Gate will destroy you, and Charon will never let you into the lake with that dagger. No, there is only one way into the lake—through the castle, a secret back door right into the throne room, and then you can walk out the front door. If you go quickly, you might even make it before my minions descend on you.”
“Speak quickly!” I snapped.
“First, your word!” He was a sniveling coward. “Your word you will not kill me. You are nothing but a woman of your word.”
I nodded. “I swear it, but just remember. I can get to you anywhere, any time.”
“Oh, I am painfully aware.”
“In exchange, I have several requests. You will release the rest of my team. They will meet us at the Old Hat in Dis tomorrow morning, or you will die.”
“Yes,” he said. “I will make it so.”
I ran the dagger along Et’alal’s chin. A bit of his blood oozed onto the blade.
“Swear it!”
“What good is the word of a demon?” Aimee said. “Kill him.”
I didn’t listen to her. Instead, I pointed at Blezor. “And you will give him an exalted position. Do you hear me? Swear to it all!”
“I swear to it!”
“Swear you will never try to start an Apocalypse again, content to live out your miserable life here, in Hell, without interfering with the machinations of Earth in any way.”
“I swear to it. However, should an Apocalypse happen…I will find you and destroy you.”
“Fair.” I cut my finger and blended it with his. “Swear to it on the blood of your ancestors and with your life.”
“I swear it.”
The blood glowed as it mixed. I wiped it from the blade and used it to make an X on his forehead. The blood glowed for a moment then absorbed into his skin.
“There is no magic more powerful than blood magic. Its bond is unbreakable. However, if you somehow find a way not to keep up your end, I will come back to you. I will find you, and I will kill you. Count on that.”
He held up his hands in defense. “It will be done. I swear it.”
“Good, now tell me where this entrance is.”
This is the second book in The Godsverse Chronicles, a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.