[Corine Solomon 5] Agave Kiss (33 page)

“I count eight,” Eva called back.

“Fuckin’ demons,” Shan muttered.

Awesome.
So the last Luren in the trifecta of Sexy Evil had come gunning for me—and he was smarter than the others. He’d brought backup . . . but this time, so had I. I didn’t let my concentration lapse; if I did, even for a second, then the spell failed, and there would be no second chances.

“What the hell
is
that?” Eva asked.

Her shotgun went off. I desperately wished I could see the action, and then some of it spilled onto the other side of the circle.
Eight shades. Shit
. The demon must’ve hired a contractor. Since shades couldn’t be harmed by mundane weapons, Eva, Chuch, and Shan needed to get away from them. But I couldn’t shout the warning, couldn’t pause in my chant, even though my thigh felt like it was on fire and my throat was raw, my lips parched, and my voice had dwindled to a husky croak.

How long have I been casting?

“We can’t hurt these,” Shan called. “Back off. Leave it to Kel and Booke.”

Thank God for Shan.

I heard Kel fighting. Despite his wounds, he wouldn’t let these monsters get me or my friends. He shouted, “Show yourself, demon!”

“Look in the mirror,” the Luren said slyly.

Its voice carried in the sprawling warehouse. The thing could be hiding anywhere . . . and it was clearly smarter than its predecessors. If I knew demons, this one hadn’t limited itself to shades . . . because it wasn’t just trying to return me to Sheol to pay my debt to Sibella; it was also fighting for its life. And nothing was stronger than self-preservation . . . except for love.

Chance . . .

Booke smashed one of his statuettes and the powerful pop of strong magick filled the air, raising the hair on my arms. A shade hissed as it winked out of existence. The Englishman laughed, triumph in the sound, but then I heard his footsteps as he scrambled away . . . from something.

“Run.” Shan’s calm tone terrified me.

“Kelethiel!”
The shout boomed like thunder, shaking the walls around me. Even the concrete floor trembled beneath my aching knees.

Barachiel. Oh, shit.

I tried to break off then—to end the spell. My friends would need all the help they could get—and even knowing it meant I’d never see Chance again, I tried to stop. But I
couldn’t
. I was trapped in the loop and the chanting continued, ancient words spilling out of my raw throat like the girl with the cursed dancing slippers. I was past the point of turning back; I would cast until I died, the ritual drawing energy out of me until I was a withered husk.

Had my sacrifice been insufficient to open the way?

I’m so sorry.

“Eva!”
Chuch’s weapon went full auto, but I didn’t know what he was shooting. Maybe Barachiel.

Not Eva. Oh, gods, no.

The words hurt now, drawn out of me like blood. My eyes filled with tears, so a watery veil blurred the world. In that mist, I glimpsed a swirl of something—maybe—a hint of Chance’s face, but it was too far away, thin and warped. Something . . . something was wrong.

This isn’t working.

Shannon called out a challenge.
Don’t piss off Barachiel,
I thought
. Leave him to Kel.
But even Kel couldn’t kill him.
Maybe they can tag team him . . . but there’s the Luren . . . and his shades . . .

The ritual took more, pulling my life force like silken threads in a skilled weaver’s loom. I tasted bitter ashes on my tongue.
I should never have done this. Oh, gods, baby, I’m sorry. I thought it was safe.

I thought—

Nothing.

There were only the words. They became reality. Owned me. They were thunder and the smell of fire in a pine forest. My friends receded. Their struggles seemed dim and faint, awful but inevitable. The mist rolled closer. A hand stretched toward me, but it was ghostly and ephemeral.

Not enough.

Not—

Kel and Barachiel stumbled toward the circle, locked in a death grip. My friend had his arm around the demon’s neck, his silver knife in its side, and he was using it like a handle. Kel bled from so many wounds that it was impossible he could still be on his feet. I didn’t know why Barachiel wasn’t using the compulsion; maybe knowing the truth gave Kel some limited ability to resist it . . . or maybe it required concentration like the spell that was killing me by inches. Pain broke focus.

If only I could get someone to hurt me . . .

My vision sparked black and white. Even the pain in my body felt distant. And then Kel heaved them both forward, breaking the circle, still full of my power. The explosion rocked me backward, out of the trance, but I was stunned, barely conscious, when I pushed to my hands and knees. The ritual swelled with the added power, incredible energy, and both Kel and Barachiel arched into postures that bespoke impossible pain. I sensed the river of life funneling from the two of them, quickening the ancient spell; it became a black and red tornado swirling around them.

“This is not how it ends,” Barachiel screamed.

The sound went on and on, until it fused with the chant I still could not stop, even now, though my lips were trickling blood. Another explosion rocked the warehouse and the mist caught fire, blasting a tunnel of hell toward us. I lacked the energy to move, but Shan pulled me away from the flames. I expected a horde of demons or angry divine enforcers, but Chance strode from the fires untouched. With every step, he became more real until at last he stood on the other side. From behind him came a quiet voice that was so beautiful it hurt my ears, echoing with bells, wind chimes, and laughing children.

Farewell, my son.

A shiver rolled through me.
No wonder Min slept with you, Ebisu.

Shan kept me upright, as I had no ability to balance. Booke was cleaning up the last of the shades. I still had no idea where the last Luren was. If it was smart, it would forget about Sheol and live out its human life here. Chance shook his head once, twice, as if to clear it. He moved his fingers, as if testing his own solidity.

Chuch knelt beside Eva, and when he caught my eye, he circled his thumb and forefinger. “She’s okay, just knocked out.”

Thank the gods.

The moment I could, I pulled away from Shan, crawled across the filthy floor toward Kel. Surely, he was all right. He opened his eyes when I fell beside him. His fingers flexed; and I wrapped mine around his, slick with blood. He labored to breathe, his chest rent, his body charred. I sensed Chance coming toward me, but it wasn’t quite time for a joyful reunion.
Not yet.
Not until I knew the cost. Tears fell, dripping hot down my cheeks.

“You’ll be fine,” I whispered. “You just need to sleep.”

“No. The future lies before you,
dadu
, but I have outlived my purpose. I choose to die a free man. Everything ends.” Light flared in his tats, a final brightness before the dark. Kel closed his lovely, icy eyes and breathed,
“Asherah
.
”

Then he was gone.

I knelt beside his body, his charred fingers in mine. When the last of the magick crumbled away, he was ash in my fingers. More tears slipped down my cheeks; a scream built in my chest, but my throat was too raw to bear it. So I held it in my head, echoing endlessly, while I rocked, a ball of white-hot pain. I hadn’t wanted happiness built on top of death, but Booke had warned there would be a cost.

I just hadn’t expected Kel to pay it in my stead.

Why didn’t you go when I told you?
It appeared my dream had been prophetic in a sense; one life was lost in bringing Chance back, an even exchange to keep the universe in balance. The others stood away from me while I grieved; I heard them whispering, but . . . there was no one else to mourn him.

“Not like this,” I whispered. “Not like this.”

Future Perfect

Eventually Chance pulled me to my feet . . . into his arms. I rocked on shaky legs, but he held me so tight. He shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be possible . . . and it only was because I’d fed the ritual enough raw power to open the gate. I never meant to, but Kel made the choice, dragging the ancient demon into the circle with him. By doing so, he’d saved the world from the war Barachiel planned to wage.

And he brought love back to me.

Oh, Kel. Thank you. And I’m sorry.

Chance kissed me endlessly, his hands in my tangled hair. It was better than anything I’d ever known yet the kiss tasted of smoke and tears. Nothing beautiful came without pain, and our love had been fireproofed. Chance felt exactly as I remembered, his hands possessive and warm on my back.

“Welcome home,” I whispered when we finally came up for air.

“We need to get you to a doctor. Make sure the baby’s all right.”

I swallowed hard. “You heard.”

“Barely. I wondered if I had imagined it, but that kernel of possibility let me cling to you when the other realm started working on me.”

“Cleansing you of ties?” I guessed.

He nodded. “Sometimes this life felt like a dream, you know?”

“So do you have all kinds of secrets to share?” I smiled through the pain, conscious of how high the price had been to bring him home.

“No. They keep you . . . quarantined until you’ve made the transition.”

“You were in solitary the whole time?” I stroked his cheek, unable to believe he thought I was worth this.

“Apart from my dad, yeah.”

“I hate to ruin the moment,” Booke cut in, “but the demon wants to parlay.”

Chance kept his arm around me, helping me toward the others. My knees still felt weak and shaky, but at least I wasn’t bleeding anywhere. I tested my abdomen for pain, but there was none. Now only my throat and thigh hurt.

The beautiful demon stood apart from my friends, wearing a terrified look. “Your crew took out Barachiel.”

More accurately, a rogue ritual had—with Kel’s assistance—but I didn’t see any point in disillusioning him. We had dispatched all the shades he’d contracted, and that was plenty intimidating. I raised a brow, trying to look menacing, when I felt as scary as day-old tuna salad. “Still want to fight?”

Gods, I hope not.

“I propose a truce. I’ll tell Sibella that you slew our ancient enemy in her name. Unless she’s mad, she will reckon your debt paid.”

“If I see you near my family,” Chance said coldly, “then I’ll take your head. No warnings, no questions.”

“Understood.” The Luren hurried away, seeming desperate to escape.

By this point, Eva had woken in a rage. “Find me something to shoot! There’s
no way
I end this fight on the ground like a punk.”

Chuch kissed her on the lips. “I’m sorry,
amor
. It’s over. If you like, we’ll go down to La Rosa Negra tomorrow night, and you can punch some dudes.”

“Sounds good,” she muttered, accepting Chuch’s hand.

Before we could leave this place, I needed to do one more thing. I walked over to the ashes that had been my friend Kelethiel. Chance wound his arm around my shoulder, a quiet tension in him. I knew how he felt about my bond with Kel, the fact that I’d slept with him while we were apart. But he couldn’t doubt my commitment; it would’ve been much simpler to write him off, find a replacement. But I would never, ever do that.

“We need to honor him somehow,” I said softly. My cheeks felt tight and hot, a residual effect from such fierce weeping.

“I’ll fill one of my empty vials,” Booke offered. “Unless that would be too macabre . . .”

I thought about it. “I’d like that. Maybe . . . I could have a statue built, include his ashes in the cement or something. Would that be weird?”

“A little,” Shan said. “But cool. Better than burying a whole body in the dirt.”

Booke did as he’d suggested. Then Chuch and Eva came over to wrap their arms around Chance and me, both emotional nearly to the point of tears. Shan and Booke joined the group hug, which lasted a while. All of us were exhausted past the point of bearing. Part of me felt like we should be more exultant, but it was all . . . too much. So much had happened that I couldn’t process everything.

Eventually, Chance said, “While I appreciate what you’ve done tonight, more than words can say, I need to get Corine to a doctor. Then, if it’s all the same to you—and after she’s pronounced sound—I need some time alone with my girl.”

Chuch grinned, slapping him on the back. “I missed you,
mano
. And I’d have been pissed if you got out of buying my little girl presents so easily.”

“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” Booke said, offering his hand.

“You too. Thanks for taking care of her while I was gone.” Chance made it sound like he had been on a business trip. They shook firmly, then he hugged Shan around the neck. “Looks like you turned into a badass.”

Shannon hefted her sword. “This trims peen, you know. Hurt her and I’ll make you wish for demons. And welcome back.” She kissed his cheek.

After Eva hugged him again, we turned toward the exit. The warehouse looked like hell, but it had been almost this bad before we invited Armageddon out to play. No collateral damage, so Twila wouldn’t come gunning for me. Chance matched his steps to mine, his arm tight about me. He’d hardly let go of me since Kel died. At the Pinto, Booke tossed me the keys, and Shannon handed me the bag. My dog popped out, safe and sound. He had had the brains to hide while the worst shit was going down. To my amusement, he lunged from the purse toward Chance, who caught him, accepting the Chihuahua kisses as his due.

“I’ll give Booke and Shannon a ride,” Chuch said. “We can catch up tomorrow. I figure you’re all heading out soon?”

Booke nodded. In the starlight, his gaze was already far away as he planned his world tour.

Shan said, “No way. You’re stuck with me.”

“We’ll go as soon as she’s ready,” Chance murmured.