How to Marry a Warlock in 10 Days (30 page)

Dred followed his aunt to where she’d last seen Roderick. He cast a quick location spell and quickly discovered that his uncle was nowhere in attendance. Barista narrowed her eyes as a certain knowledge filled Dred.

The house filled with dark objects. The zombie in their employ. The paper trail that connected her to dark objects dealers. It hadn’t been Roderick he should have suspected, but Barista. She was the one who was behind his capture during the war. She’d traded his life for a dark object.

He was sure that there was no youth potion. Barista had raised the lamia. Now, she’d succeeded in separating him from Middy. A dark shadow fell over the gathering and Dred looked up in time to see one of Middy’s brothers crashing to the earth, his body broken and bloody.

Witches were screaming and magick was flying fast and furious, protection spells, fireballs, it was as if the world had caught on fire.

Barista didn’t even bother to gloat. As soon as the realization hit him, she smiled, but it was more of a baring of teeth than a real smile. She jammed a ceremonial dagger into his gut before he had time to react. He saw her arm move, but he didn’t feel anything. She stepped away from him, still smiling.

Dred put his hands to his wounds and realized that she’d sliced him from navel to breast bone. Blood poured out of him. He could feel the hot, sticky warmth on his hands, and all around him; all he could see was red.

Then he heard Middy scream.

Dred knew he was dying, but he couldn’t let go until he he was sure that Middy was safe. He muttered a spell that would hold his gut together long enough for him to get to her, then stumbled through the crowd. He didn’t know how he was still on his feet, but he was thankful to Merlin and Caspian both for it.

His magick was failing; sparks spluttered from his fingertips as he tried to use a location spell on Middy. It didn’t matter though. As the shadows swallowed his vision, the last thing his brain processed was a lamia wearing Drusilla Tallow’s face taking to the skies with his wife in her claws.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

A Lamia, a Witch, and Her Warlock

Middy watched helplessly as Dred’s life poured from his body and still he struggled to get to her. She reached out to him, trying to activate the link between them. She’d healed the hatchling gargoyle; maybe she could heal him, too!

She knew she couldn’t absorb all of his wounds, but maybe she could take enough to save him. Activating that bond between them had never been voluntary, but it was as if a switch had been flipped.

Middy had felt the dagger pierce his flesh; she’d screamed at the agony. But after that, the connection between them had gone dark and quiet. Dred was gone. She prayed to Merlin that he’d help Dred. If she had to, she’d pray to Caspian, too. Dred couldn’t die!

She’d seen Falcon drop from the sky and she prayed that he’d survived, that her brothers had been able to use their magick to break his fall. Unless they were dead, too. What the hell had they been doing circling Tristan’s funeral anyway?

Her world was falling apart. It was as if she’d been living in a snow globe and it had been dropped from the top of the Sears Tower. Everything she loved was being taken from her.

That was when the claws pierced the flesh of her middle. It was as if she’d been wrapped in barbed wire. She looked up and saw what could only be the lamia.

It was a grotesque creature, the wingspan like that of a crop duster. Its body was furry like a bat’s, only the wings were feathered. It seemed to be bipedal, but its feet were curled into massive claws that gripped Middy tightly.

Most awful of all was that its large head bore Tally’s face.

Her mouth had morphed into a sharp beak that gaped open during flight and Middy could see the rings of teeth that were like the mouth of a great white shark.

Middy was afraid; she didn’t doubt that this creature would ravage her as it had Tristan. She recalled the viscera and hollow bones that she’d seen and the memory terrified her more.

But she hadn’t forgotten that this thing was part Tally now. The woman who had been her constant companion, her confidante, her sister—she was still in there and she was alone in all that darkness.

Midnight knew that she had to try to save her.

She thought briefly about her brothers and her mother; she missed them so much now. Middy had a lead weight on her chest that was a sure knowledge she would never see any of those who were dear to her again.

Midnight recognized their surroundings instantly. They were in Loudun! The lamia could cover ground faster than anything she’d ever seen. The lamia landed in the open ruin of a tower in the old convent. She dropped Middy roughly to the crumbling stone of the parapet.

Every instinct told Middy to get as far away from the creature as possible, to run, to shrink herself into a dark corner where it would never find her, to use her magick—even though she knew all of these options were futile.

She looked the thing in those eyes that were at once both familiar and reptilian. “What are you doing, Tally?” Middy asked softly.

The creature’s great strength forced her against the wall and that beak nosed at her throat as if trying to decide where the tastiest bits were, where the marrow and the blood would be the sweetest.

Claws dug into her arms and blood welled at the wounds.

A long tongue licked away the precious drops.

“Tally,” Middy began again, this time more firmly.

The creature’s head jerked and met her gaze. Middy was falling into an endless darkness in those eyes; it was reaching out from the Abyss to swallow her whole.

Middy felt that same, impossible hope inside of her that she’d felt when she’d seen the hatchling, when she’d reached out to Dred. It spiraled inside of her and even though her world was broken, her heart in pieces, and grief was devouring her soul, there was hope. It glittered like a jewel in that sea of black despair and it grew.

It grew until it was a nimbus at the crown of her head and it gathered in warm, soft pools around her fingertips. It blossomed and shrouded Middy in a mantle of light.

The lamia cringed and tried to shield itself from her light, from the goodness that made for tasty meat, but could also be its destruction.

“I’ll suck the marrow from your bones, bitch. There is nothing for you to hope for,” it growled in a gravelly voice.

Middy felt nothing but peace; there was no fear. She took a step toward the retreating horror.

“Your Tally is dead, your brother, your mate. There is nothing left. Nothing,” it said again, but took another step away from her.

“Tally, you have to fight. Come out of the dark,” Middy pleaded.

The reptilian eyes blinked and she knew it was Tally looking out of that misshapen body. The mouth opened and closed and Middy could sense the other woman’s anguish, the despair that kept her imprisoned.

“I tried to warn you,” she gasped. Tally’s gaze was drawn to the blood that continued to well on Middy’s arms and around her middle. “Run, Midnight. Run,” she choked.

“No,” Middy said with more confidence. “I’m not going to leave you here.” Midnight wasn’t sure how she could save Tally; she only knew that she wouldn’t leave her. She had faith in the light.

“Then you’ll die,” the lamia growled.

When it moved to an attack stance, Middy opened her arms and welcomed the tearing claws and gnashing teeth.

The attack never came. The creature watched her with predatory intent evident in its eyes, but still didn’t close that distance between them. So Middy did it for them both.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

A Crown Prince of Hell Gets His Wings

Tristan was right. Dying really sucked.

When Dred opened his eyes, the Devil was leering at him with a cheeky grin.

“Why does this scene seem familiar?” Caspian mused.

“Oh, yes. I was offered a similar deal while I lay dying and the villain had run off with my lady fair.”

“And what did you do about it?” Dred asked as pain knifed through his every nerve ending.

“I traded my Crown Prince status for becoming the Big Boss. Too bad Grace’s father got there first. That angelic can of whoop-ass was messy. I got the bad guy in the end though. He lives in Detroit now—a submission slave to one of my more fun-loving employees.” Caspian grinned as if he were remembering good times.

“Can you save Middy now?”

“No, that’s your job. Here’s your crown, your Infernal Handbook, and grooming brush for your wings. Unless you want the bat style, but chicks dig the black feathers, let me tell you,” Caspian said as he shoved a burning crown into Dred’s hands.

Dred found that the fire didn’t burn him, though it did singe his Infernal Handbook.

Caspian frowned. “We’re still working on the paper thing.”

Dred positioned the crown on his head and he felt something large and heavy hanging from his back like a cloak.

“They’re white!” Caspian exclaimed with shock. “Crown Princes of Hell do not have white wings.”

“Maybe this one does. Again, details I could give a shit less about. Where’s Middy?”

“Sorry, buddy. I can’t do any more or the Pantheon will be up my ass with injunctions like a gerbil and a . . . Anyway. I’m sure you have a good idea where she is.”

Loudun! Dred didn’t even bid Caspian farewell. He figured he had eternity to perfect his workplace etiquette.

The world looked very different to him now. He could see good, evil, and all the gray in between. He could see auras of places, things, and people. There weren’t too many that were all one or the other.

He focused on Middy and he could feel her in Loudun.

If he concentrated hard enough, he could see her. She was one of those few whose aura burned with purity. But she was with one who burned with an anti-light. It was bleak and hopeless: the lamia.

Dred could see a spark in that black blight and with his new powers, he could sense that was what was left of Drusilla Tallow. He couldn’t be too late. He’d struck his deal, eternity for Middy’s life. But hope died as in his mind’s eye as he saw the darkness and the light merging.

With a blast of demonic strength, he teleported to Loudun.

Middy was embracing the lamia; she held it in her arms with all the tenderness she would a child. Her eyes were closed and she was singing a melody. Tristan suddenly materialized behind her, a flaming sword raised and poised to strike, his white wings splayed behind him. But he hesitated.

The lamia cringed in the embrace, but human fingers clung to Middy. They morphed between talons and digits, each shift digging into Middy’s soft flesh.

“I’m here, Tally. I won’t let go.”

The lamia growled and opened its beak to tear at its tormenter, but Middy clung tighter and the white nimbus around her grew.

“Let me go, Middy. I’m not strong enough,” Drusilla cried before her face turned reptilian again.

Dred imagined Tally must be in excruciating pain to endure the shifts. She wouldn’t be able to fight the creature much longer. He didn’t know how to separate them without hurting Middy.

Just then Dred saw the creature’s aura blink into total darkness, and he made his move. Those teeth tore into Midnight’s throat, but rather than blood and flesh, there was only light. It exploded from her like a bomb, but she didn’t let go.

It kept tearing at her, ripping holes in her flesh, but Midnight held tight. Dred could see her resolve and there was nothing that would pry her away from her intention, not even her own death.

Dred felt the lure of her goodness and he moved to stand behind her. To let her take whatever strength she could from him. He wrapped his arms around her and the creature both.

The deadly razor teeth turned on him, but Dred didn’t fight back. If Middy could endure it, so could he. Better that the lamia tear his demonic flesh than Midnight’s.

It was only moments after Dred lent his strength to Middy that the lamia splintered; it crawled like a slug from Tally’s throat. As soon as it was free, Tristan brought his flaming sword down into its body. It screamed and thrashed, but Tristan pinned it to the wall with the sword and a magickal binding.

Martin Vargill emerged from the shadows onto the parapet with Barista in tow. Her skin went sallow as soon as she saw Dred and his wings glittering like diamond dust under the warm light of the sun.

“That’s mine!” Vargill demanded, gazing at Dred’s crown, which burned brightly with hellfire. He began chanting and drawing sigils in the dust and blood on the floor.

Dred held Middy’s lax form in his arms and wouldn’t put her down. Not even to smite Martin for all of the pain and terror he’d inflicted.

Tristan, however, was another matter entirely. “Take this one instead!” Tristan took his own golden crown and threw it at Vargill and the points pierced the flesh around his black heart in a perfect circle. Tristan used his magick to will the black essence back to his painting in Chaldonean Hall, where he would serve out his sentence for eternity.

Dred was too busy with Midnight to worry about what happened to his aunt. If he’d learned anything, it was that The Wheel turned in mysterious ways. He didn’t need to punish her as much as he needed these last moments with Midnight.

His hands were on her face, stroking her throat where the wounds had healed, tangled in her hair, and his wings shielded them from the rest of the universe. Dred held her tightly against him; his lips were on her forehead, her cheeks, and her mouth.

“I love you, Midnight. I love you.” He whispered it like a holy canticle—and for him, it was. She was his faith, she was his higher power, she was the universe.

Dred prayed that she’d wake up, that she’d hear him before he had to leave. His soul rebelled at the thought of leaving her, but he’d accepted it as the price for her life.

Nothing was too much to save her, not even this.

Her eyes fluttered open, that wondrous light still burning there. She touched his cheek. “I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

“I was,” he replied truthfully. “But you’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”