Although not a direct attack on the Salem coven, the unauthorized breach was close enough. Loki cared for Lexi’s mother a great deal, but an attack on her coven was an attack on his daughter. I understood every inch of the chaotic emotions raging through his eyes. He grabbed my arm and stepped forward.
We came out on Essex Street, the environment transitioning so smoothly that I hadn’t even felt it. None of the humans around us noticed our sudden appearance. Now that I was inside the wards, I could feel the discordant energy where something uninvited had punched through. The wards worked well enough to keep smaller demons out, but where larger powers came in, it served as an alarm only. Salem’s coven wasn’t equipped to handle those confrontations, so it was best that they called one of us and hunkered down.
My phone dinged and I glanced down at the location Miranda had sent. It was several streets over, on Margin Street. Loki peeked over my shoulder, then grabbed me again. The sidewalk shifted and a two-story brick building appeared in front of us, a handful of neat homes lined up to our backs. The sign in front of the building said Salem Police.
“I can feel… something,” Loki hissed, looking down the road to the right. “A disturbance in the area. We’re close.”
The chaotic energy was more pronounced here, as he’d said, but difficult to pin down. We moved down the street, trying to pick up a thread to follow to its source. As we approached a squat blue building ahead on Jefferson, movement on the roof caught my attention. This time, it was my turn to catch Loki by the arm and move through space to the top of the building.
What we found there made my pulse race.
She was in her cursed form, her body covered from head to toe in deep red and black scales that looked like cracked stone. A mass of twisted horns protruded from her skull in a mockery of hair, black and scarred. One wing was folded up under her unconscious body, the other raised at an awkward angle and flapping in the breeze like a sail. Both were ripped and torn, the jagged lines in the membranes matching the gaping wounds across her stomach and legs. Blood trickled from her mouth and nose, and her breathing was labored.
Loki held his arm up, smacking it against my chest as I stepped closer. “I would leave this one alone, for your own good, Lu.”
I stared in disbelief and threw my arm out toward her. “You want me to ignore this? Lilith was the closest thing I had to a friend in Hell for a long time. I’m not going to leave her like this.”
“It could be a trap.”
Grinding my teeth, I pushed past him. “A shit trap, then, if they kill the bait.”
He sighed, and even though I was facing away from him, I could practically see his disappointed head shake. We both knew Lilith was immortal. “Then be careful. I don’t like this.”
“You’re not going to—” I turned back, but he was gone without the slightest flicker of power. “Dammit, Loki!”
I huffed, anger swelling in my chest as I looked over Lilith again. Whoever got to her really did a number on her. Loki’s warning rang in my head, but I knew her. She was absolutely capable of treachery and deceit—I’d seen it myself more times than I could count, even guided it occasionally, over the millennia—but we’d been close. She would never aim that at me.
Gathering her up in my arms, mindful of the long, sleek tail that was dangling by a thread, I teleported to one of the safe houses I had set up in Salem. If the one who attacked her came back to finish the job, I wanted her behind the wards. The tiny apartment was sparsely furnished, with one small bedroom in the back. It contained a bed and a nightstand and a plastic tote with clean blankets tucked into the pitiful excuse for a closet.
I set her down gently, then searched the bathroom for the First Aid kit. Healing myself was one thing, but doing it to others wasn’t one of my gifts; that was Raphael’s territory. The curse Lilith carried was healing her, but at a snail’s pace compared to what it was supposed to be. Something was intentionally slowing it down.
Another curse?
She remained unconscious the whole time I worked on her, wiping off as much blood as I could and wrapping her in clean bandages. I hadn’t played nurse for anyone in a very long time—not since the Crusades, actually—but the knowledge came rushing back. Her nearly-severed tail was stitched back together, though Dad only knew if it would heal the same. I was in the process of mending her wings when she gasped harshly and shot up, claws swinging.
“Fuck you!” she shrieked. “I won’t do it—”
Her back arched and she fell back, wrapping her arms across her stomach, her breaths coming in short bursts. Pale greenish-grey eyes rolled in her head, unable to focus on anything. She was still fighting whoever did this to her, I realized. I reached out and gripped her upper arm gently, forcing some of my power into the small contact.
Those glazed eyes cleared and snapped to me, then widened. “L-Lucifer? What—where am I? How are you…”
“You’re injured.” I relaxed my grip as she calmed. “I found you on a rooftop in Salem torn nearly in half. Do you remember what happened?”
Lilith started to shake her head, then hesitated. “Abaddon.” She shifted and winced, grabbing the wad of bandages holding her tail together. Her jaw flexed, pain and anger flaring in her pale eyes. “He… he caught me on one of my visits, tried to force me into submission, Lucifer. I had to fight my way to the surface, then teleported to the nearest arcane energy source and hoped for the best before I blacked out.”
“The wards,” I murmured more to myself than to her. Her vague story didn’t set off my lie detector, but I didn’t want to push her for more details so soon. What little suspicion I had toward her wavered. I’d heard myself how Abaddon was asserting his rule, forcing people to bend the knee or be thrown to the pit. Or worse, Tartarus. Even Belial had run, rescuing me in the process, after the usurper had paid him a visit.
I studied her for a few moments, trying to gather my thoughts. Pain was evident in every muscle spasm, every shift, every twitch. We’d been lovers once, several lifetimes ago, and Lilith was a sadist; she enjoyed doling out pain more than receiving it. She wouldn’t have done this to herself intentionally.
“I want him gone, Lucifer,” she said, her voice a harsh, angry whisper. “I want to make him pay for… for this. Foreverything. What can I do to help?”
Ah, but she was a fighter. Sneaky, cunning, always went for the weak spots. I knew she would make an excellent ally in the fight, but something held me back from agreeing. An instinct I couldn’t place. Shaking my head, I touched her arm lightly.
“You can heal,” I replied. “This place is safe and well-stocked with food. Once you’re healed, we’ll talk. I’ll be by to check on you as I get time, but for now, just rest.”
She started to sit up. “You’re not staying?”
“I have tasks to delegate and a war to win.” I stood and moved to the door. “If you need anything, I’ll have someone close by.”
