Marcus, Reese, and Jenna were all on their feet now, staring at Quinn, eyes wide. Quinn wanted to scream at all of them to run, but the demons reached into her mouth and stilled her tongue.
Dark shapes swarmed her, crawling over her body, sucking at her essence. Azrael’s swords glowed and arched as he hacked away at them, but they kept coming, swarming him, pushing him back, and separating her from her protector one inch at a time.
Marcus rushed to her side, confused at seeing his friend flung around by an invisible force. Quinn shook her head in warning, too late. A hooded figure rose behind him and plunged a dark hand straight into this heart, stopping him cold. Black pupils ate all the white around his eyes as the demon forced its way inside, possessing him.
“I should have saved him that night, not you. You should have been left to rot at the bottom of the river.” It was Marcus’s voice, but with all the usual warmth and charm drained from the tone. Reese and Jenna circled in from the other side.
You are but one, we are many. Reese’s lips curled into a snarl. She knelt next to Quinn; eyes full of ink. The demon had a full hold on her now. It cocked her best friend’s head.
Leave her alone. Quinn squirmed and kicked against her misty bonds.
You all called us here, and we came at your invitation. Do not be a bad hostess. Let us feed. We are so hungry.
You want to feed? Take me but leave her alone. I have so much more to give than she does. Can’t you feel it? Quinn stopped struggling and brought all her emotions to the surface. The pain of it was almost unbearable, but she lay perfectly still and didn’t hold anything back.
Reese leaned into Quinn and sniffed her neck. So dark, so good.
It was working. Quinn sensed the demon’s greed, and she drew on all the pain and sadness that had leaked into the cemetery’s soil. So much death, so many loved ones lost. Tragedy, anger—she took it all in and fed it back to the demons. None of them could resist. Drunk on the darkness spilling from Quinn, they surrounded her on all sides to lap it up. Ink spilled from Reese’s mouth, and she fell to the ground as the demon abandoned her friend’s body to seize on Quinn’s misery.
Distracted, the ropes holding her wrists loosened, and Quinn inched toward the glowing dagger to her right. Fingers brushed the handle. She might be a killer, but so were they. Aaron’s death was as much their fault as it was hers, and they would pay. Never again would she let them control her, let them turn her into a whining wreck of a girl. The shadows shimmered and vibrated as she harnessed the thought of Aaron sinking to his death, his sacrifice, his ultimate love.
The dagger slammed into the center of the beast that had possessed Reese. It hissed and dissipated into wisps of smoke. This woke the others from their food coma, and they started to back away from her in confusion. Azrael seized the opportunity, his sword taking down at least half a dozen beasts in seconds.
Now. While they’re distracted.
Three breaths brought up her armor, and she sprang into a crouch, dagger at the ready.
The atmosphere around Quinn crackled with her one wish—to kill them all. Fixing her glare on the shadow to her right, she held it suspended with her mind. It squirmed against her power, pushing to free itself, looking for a crack in her barrier. She felt its malicious intent. Its fear tangled with loathing.
Killing us won’t bring the boy back. No one is safe from his fate. He has gone to meet my maker. A soul for a soul. Yours for his. A soul for a soul. Dead is dead.
It laughed. Quinn gritted her teeth and pinned its dark essence against a crumbling headstone with nothing but a thought, its name coming to her lips as if she’d known it her whole life.
Call it by name, finish it, Azrael urged.
“Erithea.” She pointed at the shadow hanging in mid-air and released her anger at the beast. “Go to hell.” A beam of light exploded from the tips of Quinn’s fingers, piercing Erithea and cutting his morbid life short.
Quinn’s heart pounded against her ribs. The kickback of expending all that pent-up emotion rattled her. She had banished a demon. Satisfaction twisted her lips into a wicked grin as she sank to the ground, all her energy spent. So that was what she could do.
Seething hate emanated from the remaining demons as they fled in the wake of her power and the tip of Azrael’s sword.
12
“Quinn,” Aaron rasped her name and swallowed the bits of gravel lodged in his throat. Only the echo of water droplets hitting rock answered him. She wasn’t there, never had been. The portals, his funeral, Quinn, it was nothing but a dream, a nightmare. He was back where he started.
A fever, that was all. The fire inside died, leaving nothing but a hollow husk of skin and bone lying face down and shivering, spread-eagle against the cold stone beneath him. Every inch of Aaron’s body felt bruised and weak as his awareness returned, nerve-by-nerve. How long had he been lying here? Days? Minutes?
Ignoring the situation won’t make it go away. If you don’t try, you’ll never find a way out of this mess. What did Mom always say? Seeing the problem is the first step to finding a solution. Stop being a coward.
It took all his strength to force his eyes open, his lids ripping from the tender cornea. He blinked in the moist, cool air until the irritating particles washed away in a flood of salty tears. When the streaming stopped, and he regained focus, all he saw was an endless void of darkness spinning out before him.
Oh, my God! I’m blind! I’m blind and alone and probably bleeding and broken. Shit. I knew it. His heart rattled against his chest, and his lungs constricted.
Don’t panic. It’s dark. That’s all. It doesn’t mean you’re blind. You have to move, or you’ll die here.
And how am I supposed to do that when I can’t see a hair in front of me! His thoughts fractured into two opposing sides, the optimist and the pessimist. Not to mention the fact that I used up all my energy opening my eyes.
Don’t panic. It’s not that bad.
Not that bad? Really? How could it be worse?
You could be nothing.
At least if I were nothing, I wouldn’t be so afraid.
Arguing with himself seemed crazy, but it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. He had nobody else to rely on or to council with.
That’s a laugh. Don’t you remember how terrified you were the last time you died? This doesn’t feel anything like that. If we’re dead, where’s the light?
He doubted there would be any lights in hell but pushed away the thought as soon as it reared its head. Metaphorically, hell was exactly where he was right now.
Listen. There’s water dripping in the distance. The water must be getting in from somewhere. So if there was a way in, there’s a way out.
Yes. Yes. His thoughts finally made sense, worked together.
Aaron shivered. Not a scrap of clothing covered his body. Whatever happened to him stripped him of every stitch, as well as his dignity. In a different situation, he might have been embarrassed, but he was too exhausted and frightened to care. He would worry about clothes later. For now, he had to get moving and get out.
His neck, stiff from lying in the same position for too long, tingled and ached as he scraped his cheek against the rough stone. A musty mix of rusted metal and salt filled his nostrils. The smell of mustiness and stale air reminded him of home, of his father lying on the couch after drinking all night, the curtains drawn tight. But he wasn’t home. The stone floor beneath his naked flesh proved that. Did his dad even miss him? Did Josh? Would he ever see home again?