My lip curls, and I have to force myself not to stomp my foot, not to push him away, not to insist on saving my sister. Demon or not.
I barely manage to swallow all this down, and with a whimper, I nod. Because I know he’s right. Deep down below that aching nostalgia is the truth.
Zion’s hands on my shoulders yank me off balance. Startled, I whirl around just in time to see a new kind of faceless demon fall to the ground. These ones all look the same, but in an outwardly evil-destructor way. In the short time I was distracted, it seems the clown car appeared, actively spilling its passengers all around us.
Excitement flares in me, never one to shy away from a good battle. “You good?” Zion asks.
I reach across, pulling the sword from its sheath, then reach inside my jacket, pulling out a dagger with a grin. “I’m good.”
Zion gives me a look that I can only describe as exasperated, but then he nods, already turning away as he replies, “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Right back at ya,” I yell behind him, and he waves his hand as he takes off in the direction of Gemma’s whispers. Frowning, I watch after him, briefly thinking he shouldn’t be going off alone, but my worry is quickly dropped as I sidestep a small group of fiends attempting to take me down.
There are faceless demons everywhere, and at first, not knowing who is friend or foe, I’m concerned that I may inadvertently kill someone on our side. As if by some unknown driving force, I instinctively turn away from those that appear to be comrades, and we slice, dice, and stab until I’m winded. My arm aches, the relentless onslaught taking its toll on me as I try to determine if they just keep coming in or if they never truly die.
The whole group of us slowly makes our way into the center of the battleground. There are a few shouts and curses, but for the most part, it still appears eerily quiet. I’ve lost sight of Zion and Jacob, though I catch the odd sight of Cornelius seemingly in a dance with the enemy, happily so.
I shake my head at his antics, but then pain explodes in my side, forcing me to my knees. I turn to my right, where I think the blow came from, to find myself alone. The pain hits me again, this time in my chest, and I fall forward, screaming. My pained cry echoes upon echoes, and Cornelius appears in front of me on his knees. “Where are you hurt? What got you?”
I shake my head violently as the pain appears to boil inside me. I roll onto my back, my torso bowing as I barely manage tosit up. Then I roll to my front onto my hands and knees, one hand scratching at my throat as I choke out, “Zion.”
Then Jacob is there yelling words I can’t decipher, and I manage to choke out, “Help him. Help him.”
Cornelius and Jacob each grab me by an arm, hefting me up, keeping me on my feet even as my knees continue to buckle in agony. We hurry ten feet and then twenty before pain and gravity force me back to my knees, and I’m left pointing, crawling, as I rasp, “Go. Leave me. Go.”
Cornelius and Jacob take off at a sprint, weapons in hand, and I watch, helpless, as I see Zion directly up ahead, appearing at the top of a hill. Demons surround him, but not the faceless sort, their expressions grim yet delighted as they hold onto him.
There could be two of them or there could be twenty, but all I can feel is the searing pain. I watch Jacob and Cornelius running, running, running, but every time they appear to be getting closer, it’s like they didn’t run at all.
And then there’s Gemma.
She appears slowly directly behind Zion, and then she’s leaning over him, whispering in his ear. His eyes widen, even as the pain intensifies, those demons seemingly doing their best to rip him apart. I manage to stagger to my feet, taking a few halting running steps as I scream, “Gemma.”
I fall back onto my hands and knees, and when I look up, the space between us is gone. Cornelius and Jacob are gone. The faceless demons and the comrades. All gone.
I manage to reach out with my hand, pleading, “Please, Gemma. Don’t.”
For a moment, she seems conflicted, but then her eyes narrow. She keeps them trained on me as she leans forward and licks a path up his cheek to his temple. He doesn’t wince or flinch, likely too overwhelmed by the feeling of being tornasunder from the inside. I’m muttering pleas, begging her quietly, even as I know there’s no damn use.
She raises both arms on either side of his head, drawing my attention to the gold bands encircling her wrists. She taps them together in front of his face, and when she pulls them apart, a long string appears between them, glowing, menacing.
His eyes that appeared vacant before suddenly zero in, rolling in fear like a wild animal. He attempts to struggle but it’s no use. He’s frozen to the spot, any form of escape impossible.
Then her hands move behind him, and that string presses against his neck. I feel a reciprocating agony in my own neck as she yanks it tight. Then she crosses her wrists behind her, yanking and squeezing, abject pleasure on her face at the use of her magical garrote.
And then his silence breaks.
His scream of pain rips me open, guts me. Then, in a moment of stillness, that golden light cuts through, releasing a golden-white light from his neck, cutting off his screams, and making way for the evil melody of her own laughter.
The scream that falls from me is animalistic, all-consuming.
The searing pain in my chest coalesces, boomerangs on itself, and my entire body convulses. I fall onto my back just as the sky opens up, and I'm instantly pelted with an icy rain that does nothing to extinguish the fiery agony boiling inside me.
And then, complete silence.
In a flash, the pain vanishes. I lie there, gasping, barely managing to find the energy to roll over and bear witness to the results of her evil deeds, but I do because I have to see. I have to know.
Blinking, I frown, shaking my head as I mutter, “No. No. No.”
