Days of New: The Complete Collection (Serials 1-5) (26 page)

So Camille focused on that as she stalked around the creature, her eyes locked with it. This wasn’t the man she loved. This was the demon she had to fight.

It lunged forward, swinging its fist. Camille parried the punch and landed her own on the demon’s chin. Its head slammed back, and the demon stumbled down a few stairs. When it looked back to her, the blackness in its eyes stirred and shifted about, as if she’d almost knocked the demon’s control over Clark loose. She didn’t waste another moment. She attacked again and managed to land a few blows. She was so intent of landing punches to its face that she didn’t pay attention to the creature’s legs.

Its roundhouse kick landed square on her mouth. The print of its boot lined her cheek, and blood oozed down the back of her throat. The floor tilted and swayed beneath her. Things spun for a horrible moment while she tried to stay conscious. When she had herself back under control, she jumped to her feet and looked up the stairs.

The demon was already on the second floor and moving fast. She was about to follow when she heard someone say, “So that’s the second floor. You can see it’s mostly the gym and apartments. The hospital is over that way, which we can show you in the morning. I’m sure you’re all very tired. Let’s return back downstairs, and I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Camille hissed. Their voices grew louder with each step as they came back toward the main stairs. Once again she flew, her wings sweeping out and carrying her up the stairs. She was on the demon in seconds, the officials just around the corner from him. Hooking her arms and legs around its twisting body, Camille hauled it back into the air just as the officials came into view.

Silently, she eased them up higher and higher until her wingtips brushed against the vaulted ceiling. Her hand covered the demon’s mouth to muffle the hissing sounds it made. It struggled in her grasp with a strength that went beyond Clark’s mostly human ability. Its flailing made them undulate in the air, her wings constantly working to keep them aloft and in the shadows of the tall ceiling. She clung to the demon with everything she had, bruising it as it bruised her.

“It’s a beautiful place you have here,” one official said. Everyone murmured in agreement, but luckily no one looked up.

The Descendants and officials passed down the stairs below them, with Bailey bringing up the rear. As they talked about security, Bailey paused directly below Camille. He bent over and examined something on the floor. Wiping his finger through it, he straightened and brought his hand into the moon’s light that came through the front windows. Even from her height, Camille saw the glint of gold on his fingertip. He’d seen her blood from where the demon had kicked her in the mouth. As if he sensed them, Bailey looked up, his lightly colored eyes probing the darkness.

Camille held her breath and gripped the demon tighter. It bit down hard on her hand, and she had to hold back a furious yelp of pain. She knew they weren’t completely hidden in the shadows up there, and her wings cast enough light around them that Camille plainly saw Bailey tightly nod up toward them as if he understood what she was doing. Surprising her, he didn’t call out an alarm. He looked away and carefully wiped off his finger before scuffing his boot through the blood on the floor. Then he hurried off, and Camille breathed a sigh of relief.

She didn’t set the demon down until they were in the dungeon and it was impossible for her to fly anymore. It writhed and kicked out, trying everything in its power to break Camille’s grip around its torso. But she shouldered it into the dungeon’s narrow hall and looked up only when she heard a frightened gasp.

“What happened?” Maya asked, rushing forward.

“Stay back,” Camille said, grunting with each step. Zarachiel took one look at the demon’s eyes and jerked Maya back. Iris quietly opened the cell’s door wider, so Camille could toss the writhing, spitting creature back inside. Iris slammed the door shut, and Camille slid the lock home just as the demon flung itself against the bars.

Out of breath, Camille doubled over with her hands on her knees as she tried to draw in enough air. Her mouth ached violently, and she felt the crustiness of dried blood in the corner of her lips, which felt swollen and bruised. “Why are you down here?” she managed to ask.

“Iris wanted to come down here and check on him,” Zarachiel said.

“We thought the worst when we found the cell empty.” Maya seemed to be fighting back tears.

“He got out,” Camille huffed. Her ribs ached with each shallow breath. “Tried to attack the officials.”

“Oh, crap,” Maya said.

Camille felt a hand on her back, which surprised her. She looked up and met Iris’s blue eyes, which were an exact replica of Clark’s. “Thank you for watching over him,” Iris said quietly.

Unsure what to say back to that, Camille only nodded. Her heart pulled a little funny when Iris patted her shoulder before stepping away. For a long moment, Camille pretended to probe at her battered mouth while she really just collected herself.

When she finally looked up, Zarachiel was investigated the cell’s lock. “How did he get out?”

“We’re lucky that Bailey needed all his squad up with the officials. Otherwise, Clark might have killed a guard,” Camille said.

“He must have picked the lock with something. There’s scratches on it.”

Maya held up a chicken bone. “Like this? It looks like a guard ate down here recently,” she said, toeing a castoff tray of scraps in the corner.

“How did he reach that?” Zarachiel looked back at Clark.

“He must have dislocated his arm,” Camille offered. “His punches were a little off.” She rubbed her mouth.

“Shouldn’t we just take him and run?” Maya asked. “If he’s going to break out and try to kill people, he’s only going to make things worse for himself inside here.”

“Bailey is on our side now,” Camille said in answer.

“What?”

She nodded. “He saw me trying to get Clark under control, but he didn’t raise an alarm. I think he believes us. If he’s on our side, then Clark is safer in here.”

“And there’s still a chance Gabriel could find Lucifer soon. As scary as it is, that priest is the only one truly qualified to perform an exorcism. I’d rather let him do it than for us to try,” Zarachiel added.

“But what if they kill him during the ritual?”

“I really doubt they are strong enough for that,” Zarachiel consoled Maya.

From his cell, Clark groaned. He gripped his ribs and shifted on the hard bed as he came to. When he looked up at the others, his eyes were their normal blue, his face lined with bruises from Camille.

“Hey, Clark,” Iris said, crossing to the bars with Maya at her side.

“Dude. What happened?”

“Do you remember anything?” Iris asked.

“I feel like I’ve had the shit beat out of me,” Clark said, his voice rasping. He glanced at Camille, his eyes shifting down to her mouth. “Oh,” he said.

“You kicked me in the mouth,” Camille accused.

“Sorry?”

“He didn’t mean to, Camille,” Maya said, shooting a dirty look at Camille.

“Yeah,” Clark added. “I didn’t mean to, Camille.”

“You got out of your cell and tried to kill the government officials from Washington,” Zarachiel said, clearly trying to get everyone back on topic.

“That really doesn’t sound like me.”

“Can you use the Watchers’ magic to get rid of the demon?” Iris asked, switching topics. “I’m sure they had a method for that. Possession was very common a long time ago.”

Clark paused by the front bars. He leaned his forehead against the metal and stared at his mom. “Hey, Mom. Thanks for coming,” he said quietly.

Iris stepped forward and wrapped her hand around Clark’s. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

They stayed like that for a moment, and Camille didn’t have the heart to break it up. Clark just needed his mom for a moment. Finally, he sighed and looked over at the others. “I’m too freaked out to try because I don’t want to show the demon how I use the magic.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Hell, I don’t even know half the time. If it figures out how to get to it, I’m worried the little bastard could steal it.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” The room fell deadly silent. Everyone stared at Camille, their mouths slightly parted. She shrugged. “All I’m saying is that if Lucifer got that power, he would become the angels’ problem, not ours. They would be forced to fight him.”

“Another war?” Maya asked, sounding completely appalled. “You would let Lucifer have Clark’s power just so the angels would have to join the fight?”

Camille raised her eyebrows. “Uh, yeah. Isn’t that exactly what I just said?” She turned to Iris and Zarachiel, effectively cutting Maya out of the conversation. “Look. The holy angels aren’t getting involved because they think they have bigger issues to deal with in Heaven. Apparently, democracy is easier said than done. But if Lucifer was more than just a vague threat, they would have to come down here and attack. Clark would be safe.”

“What about the humans?” Zarachiel asked.

“What about them? Look, I don’t hate humans, but, really, what kind of life are they living right now? If we don’t stop Lucifer, they’re going to die anyway.”

“Camille, that’s horrible,” Maya said in a hushed tone, her eyes wide with tears, as if she wept for Camille’s black heart.

Camille rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up, Maya. No one cares about your Mother Teresa shit.”

“Lucifer getting Clark’s powers could start another war,” Zarachiel said, ignoring their comments.

“Do you really think Lucifer is going to retreat quietly?”

“He won’t have a choice if Clark kills him again,” Iris said.

Even from where Camille stood, she heard Clark’s heavy swallow. “Yay,” he said weakly.

She wanted to scream and violently shake everyone in the room. Instead, she just shook her head and raked her hand over her face, smudging the kohl beneath her eyes. No one wanted a war, but everyone was willing to throw Clark into the wolves’ den because of his powers. It was atrocious, Camille thought. If it were up to her, she would hand over Clark’s power right then to Lucifer and tell Clark to enjoy the peace for once.

“We can’t risk more humans dying,” Maya said. “They’ve been through enough.”

Eyes blazing, Camille wheeled toward the Nephil. “But you would risk Clark’s life? You would let him fight alone and unprotected?”

“He would have us,” Maya said, cowering slightly under Camille’s furious gaze.

“Oh, really? And what can you do? Nothing. That’s exactly what you can do,” Camille growled.

“Camille—” Zarachiel said.

“No, Z. She needs to know.” Camille batted away his interruption and turned back to Maya. “You can’t do shit to help him. Zarachiel and I would be the only ones out there fighting with him against Heaven only knows how many demons and fallen angels that Lucifer has managed to recruit. We would die. Just one cut from a bone sword could level us. And then who would help Clark? Would you ride in on your white horse then? Are you hiding some amazing Nephilim power under that ugly sweater? Cause I really freaking doubt it.”

A tear slipped down Maya’s cheek. Her arms wrapped around her middle, as if she was trying to hold herself together. Camille felt no remorse because the naive girl finally shut up. Zarachiel put a comforting hand on Maya’s fragile shoulder.

“Guys,” Clark said. “I know things are getting out of hand when I have to be the voice of reason, but can we just focus on the big issue here? I need to get this demon out of me before I hurt anyone else.” His eyes drifted to Camille’s mouth. When he met her gaze, she sensed his apology and also his thanks for standing up for him. That was all she needed, Camille realized, to see the appreciation he felt for her in his eyes.

She hated that she needed his approval so much.

“He’s right,” Iris said. “Let’s all just calm down.”

“Bailey said the council has already decided. It’s a guilty verdict. They’re going to try an exorcism in the morning before I’m hanged.”

“What?” Maya gasped.

“So soon?” Iris questioned.

“Clark,” Camille said quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. “It’s the morning now.”

“Oh,” he breathed. She smelled the fear thickening in the air. “Then they’ll be here any second.”

Zarachiel and Camille stepped closer to the cell, nudging the Nephilim slightly out of the way. “We will work out a signal,” Zarachiel said quietly. “If things go bad in there and you can’t get rid of the demon, let us know. We’ll get you out of here.”

“Thanks, guys,” Clark said, resting his forehead against the bars. “So we need a safe word? I’ve always wanted one. What about ‘purple unicorn’?”

Camille couldn’t help but grin, even in the dire situation. “How about you just tell us ‘it’s time to go’ or something normal?”

“Because I really want to see that stupid priest’s face when I started screaming ‘purple unicorn’ during this thing,” Clark said, grinning back.

Everyone laughed, but it was a hollow kind of sound. The silence stretched out as they stared back at one another. Somehow, this felt like the end. Like everything was changing once again.

“We shouldn’t be down here when they come,” Zarachiel whispered, like he was scared to break the moment.