Demon's Bride

Chapter 17

Anne’s throat was tight, as though an unseen hand gripped her, slowly constricting. There seemed not enough air, no matter how she tried to breathe it in. Yet it was only fear, and she forced herself to calm. She could not face the approaching challenges if she collapsed in a faint.

Once the servants had cleared the house, she followed Leo toward the study. Lord Whitney and Zora remained in the front hallway. As Anne trailed after Leo down the corridor, she heard the hiss of steel as Lord Whitney drew his sword. A blaze of light that meant Zora had summoned her magic. The Gypsy did that so easily—conjuring up her power and wielding it with such confidence—it was clear she had used it many times in battle.

Both Zora and Whit made ready for the fight. They would form the defense against intruders when the inevitable assault happened.

Pressing her hand against her mercilessly pounding heart, Anne could scarce believe that this elegant Bloomsbury house would soon be the site of a pitched battle. It made as much sense as calling the house a home—for it was just as ill-fitting a title. She had never been at home here. Only Leo had made it bearable.

She kept her gaze on his wide shoulders as he walked toward the study. He appeared so strong, so potent. Surely he would survive this. He had to. They could not return to how it had once been between them. Yet he meant far too much to her to lose him.

He reached the open door of the study. They did not go in, but saw that a lamp had been lit. True to Leo’s command, his strongbox sat atop his desk, the lid open. The strongbox had contained hundreds of pounds, well beyond what any servant might earn in several years. The men and women who had served him might not have employment, but they had been well compensated. Perhaps it might buy their silence.

Leo turned to her. His mouth flattened into a grim line, the angle of his jaw hard with determination. She’d never seen him more resolute. A warrior on the brink of combat.

Words formed on her lips, yet she could not say them. They gazed at each other in silence. The candle in Leo’s hand flickered and cast shimmering shadows upon the walls. He looked both golden and dark, a terrifying figure from the depths of dreams, and it amazed her that this tough, fierce-eyed man had given her such pleasure only hours before. Not merely pleasure, but the truth of his heart.

Would it be the last time they ever made love? The dawn would have her answer, but dawn was far away.

“Ready?” Leo closed the study door, and he and Anne stood in the corridor outside. They had agreed that this place offered the right location for their needs, with few avenues for getting in or out. A battle would take place here, in this hallway covered with French silk damask.

She exhaled shakily, wiped her hands on her skirts, then nodded.

He started to speak, then stopped. He moved quickly. His arms came around her, pulling her close. And then his mouth was on hers.

Anne sank into the kiss, as hungry and demanding as he. They consumed each other, straining tight, savoring taste and sensation as those about to undertake a fast luxuriated in the flavor of the final morsel of food and last drop of wine. She tasted him and inhaled his scent and felt the hard, lean length of his body, knowing she might never experience these sensations again.

“Anne,” he rasped against her mouth. “My unexpected gift. A gift I never earned. But I’ll have you however I can, for as long as I can.”

She did not think she had pieces of her heart left that were big enough to break, yet they shattered anyway.

He ended the kiss, releasing her as if by force of will. She let him go, but the distance between them tore through her as they stepped back.

“Please,” she whispered, “do this now.” She could not stand prolonging this.

He steadied himself, standing even taller, then spoke the words that sealed their fate. “Veni, geminus.”

The candle went out, and everything became darkness.

Leo held himself still as the scent of burnt paper filled the hallway, acrid and brittle. And then there was another shadow in the corridor, standing just behind Anne. It held his shape, his size.

Immediately, Leo placed himself between Anne and the geminus. For that’s what it was. He did not need light to identify the creature. He recognized it now with the same certainty as he knew his own handprint.

“’Tis past the time of negotiation,” the geminus spat. “My master does not look kindly upon the slaughter of his minions.”

“Then he shouldn’t have sent them to be slaughtered,” answered Leo. His eyes grew adjusted to the dark, and saw the hazy echo of his own face twisted in a sneer.

“A poor strategy on your part, summoning me,” said the creature. “We know where you are now. At this moment, hordes of demons approach. There shan’t be enough of your carcasses remaining for the night soil collector to gather.”

“We have reinforcements,” Anne said.

Leo’s heart swelled to hear the strength in her voice, no trace of the fear she surely felt.

The geminus chuckled. “A mortal man stripped of his power and a Gypsy girl with a mountebank’s skill hardly amount to reinforcements.”

An unearthly shriek echoed through the house. The windows rattled. The ground shook. It sounded as though dozens of knives were being sharpened, then Leo realized it was the scrape of talons upon stone.

Demons. Approaching.

The geminus laughed again. “For a man given the gift of prophecy, you’ve shown remarkably inferior planning.”

“There is one ally you have not considered,” said Leo.

“The other Hellraisers are not your friends.”

“Not the Hellraisers.”

“Who, then?”

“Me,” said Valeria Livia Corva.

Light exploded, filling the corridor with radiance. The Roman woman emerged from a brilliant nimbus, hands upraised and ready, hair wild, and she fixed the geminus with a hard, unrelenting stare.

Radiance from Livia threw everything into high relief. The creature recoiled, and it unsettled Leo deeply to see a look of naked hatred upon his double’s face—as though Leo himself shrank back in fearful loathing.

“We’ve more than enough power to face you,” said Leo, “and whatever else comes crawling up from Hell.”

Snarling, the geminus lifted up its hands, preparing to work its own magic. Yet whatever it attempted to do, the effort failed. It glared at Livia.

“No retreat for you,” she said. “This mortal home is your trap, until I decide otherwise.”

The geminus sneered. “You cannot harm me. Unless you seek to hurt him.” It flicked its gaze toward Leo. As it did so, it drew a poniard from inside its coat. Before Leo could stop it, the creature jabbed the point of the blade into its own left hand.

Anne cried out as Leo hissed in pain, gripping his now-bleeding hand. He moved quickly, knocking the poniard hard from the geminus’s grip so that it stuck in the wall. Even this small blow resonated in his body, the force of his own strike against the creature echoing in his hand.

Despite the loss of its weapon, the geminus chuckled. “Threaten as much as you please. The mortal and I are joined. He is my hostage.”

Much as Leo wanted to plow his fist into the creature’s smirking face, he restrained himself. Anne looked equally murderous. Yet the next move had to be Livia’s.

“You are not so protected as you believe.” The ghost moved closer to the geminus, which glowered defiantly at her approach. “To the Dark One, you are nothing but a puppet. We shall make appropriate use of you.”

Latin words streamed from her mouth, and with her hands she made complicated patterns in the air. The geminus seemed to understand her intent, for it tried to dart past Leo, but he grabbed the creature before it could flee down the hallway. He ignored the sharp pain in his own arm as he held fast to the struggling geminus. Livia had to finish her spell before the creature could be set free.

He felt the change, an echo of her magic threading through his body, but the geminus felt it even more strongly. Its movements grew stiff, mechanical. In slow increments, its struggles against Leo’s hold quieted. It stared down at its body as if it were a strange, phantom limb.

“What iniquity is this?” it cried.

“A taste of your own poison,” answered Livia. “During my living years, I learned my own share of dark magic. You and your master seek to command others against their will. Now you share the same experience.” She nodded at Leo. “Release it.”

Leo uncurled his fingers from around the geminus’s arm, careful to stay close lest the thing make another attempt to flee. But it did not run. Instead, limbs moving with sharp jerks, it turned to the study door. Its hand curled around the doorknob.

“Reconsider,” it said over its shoulder, words growing thin with panic. “All is not yet lost. There is still time—”

“We know already how trustworthy your master is,” Leo spat, hating to hear the geminus using his own voice to bleat like a coward. “Do as you’re commanded.”

The geminus made another sound of protest, but it opened the door to the study. Yet the room that lay just across the threshold was not Leo’s study. It was a stonewalled chamber with a high, vaulted ceiling. The books were gone; his desk was gone. In their place were rows and rows of heavy wooden shelves, and trestle tables running the length of the long chamber. On the shelves and the tabletops were objects the size of oranges. They each cast light, some more brilliantly than others.

Leo knew without being told that what he saw were souls. Human souls. All of them held captive in this chamber. The cold stone walls formed a grim prison, pitilessly enclosing the radiance of the souls’ humanity. Yet as Leo looked upon them, greed stirred. Shimmering and precious, the souls were rare prizes that inspired covetousness—even within him.

Leo had been one of the reckless. Somewhere in that impossible room, his own soul waited.

Anne stared, hardly believing what she saw. Here was the vault of souls that Lord Whitney had described. The souls themselves were beautiful and shimmering, far lovelier than any gem torn from deep within the ground. Even standing some distance from them, she could feel their power and potential radiating outward, sending flickers of energy through her body.

The sight of so many souls trapped within the gloomy, oppressive chamber made her heart wilt. Already, a few of the souls faded, their light dimming. She did not know what would happen when their brilliance disappeared entirely, but it must certainly mean disaster.

“How did you come by so many?” she could not help asking the geminus.

It forgot its momentary horror, and looked smug. “Mortals are such fallible, gullible things. I learned this well during my profitable visits to the Exchange. They throw their souls away for mere trifles. Money, power. Love.”

She stared at the shelves and shelves of souls, fighting despair. If this was the handiwork of a single geminus in only a few short months, imagine what many more of the things it could do in the span of a year. Hardly a person would walk the earth who still possessed their soul. And if the Devil could harness the power of all of these souls, power that Anne herself could feel ... no wonder he must be stopped.

Leo strode toward the door to the vault, but could not move into it. He seemed to face an invisible barrier; his hand pressed empty air as though pushing against glass. Curling his hand into a fist, he threw a punch. The blow simply glanced away.

The geminus laughed. “Another excellent scheme. The vault is there, but what of it? You cannot go inside.”

“We knew that much,” muttered Leo. Yet it was in his nature to try anyway.

“Then you know no mortal may enter.”

“Conversely,” Livia said, “I am not mortal.”

Anne held her breath as the ghost darted toward the vault. For this had been their intent, what they had planned beside the river in Richmond. When Lord Whitney had retrieved his soul, it had taken Livia’s magic to gain Zora entry into the vault. That spell had cost Livia much of her power, but now they had a simpler option. She herself would gain entrance into the vault, and secure Leo’s soul.

Yet when the ghost tried to pass across the threshold, she actually stumbled back. A look of bafflement crossed her face. She attempted to enter once more. Again, she met an invisible barrier. She stared down at her hands and body in confusion.

The geminus gave another ugly laugh. “Perhaps I ought to have made myself more clear. No human may enter the vault, be they living or dead. Ever since the Gypsy’s essence was smuggled into another vault, alterations have been made.”

Anne’s heart sank, and Leo bared his teeth in frustration.

The Roman was not deterred. “No solid surface has yet barred me,” she said, eyes hard and determined. “Not since my imprisonment between the realms. This night shall be no different.” She rushed toward the wall beside the open door, and passed right through.

Anne anxiously looked into the vault for Livia’s reappearance on the other side of the wall. The ghost did not materialize.

“Where is she?”

Livia appeared a moment later, emerging from the wall. Her face was set in a dark scowl. “All I find beyond that wall is a library. No vault. No souls. Merely useless books. If there is a way in, I cannot find it.”

As the geminus continued to laugh, Leo cursed, long and floridly, and even Livia looked crestfallen. Desolation was a crushing weight in Anne’s chest. For all their plans and hopes, for everything they had been willing to sacrifice, everything that had been lost—Leo’s soul still belonged to the Devil, and there was nothing any of them could do to get it back. He was lost. They had failed.

They could not fail.

“Almost admirable,” the geminus chuckled, wiping its eyes. “A fiasco, of course, but extremely inventive. ’Tis a shame that none of you shall serve my master. He would make excellent use of you.”

Another unearthly scream rattled the windows. From down the corridor came the sounds of the front door being shaken, heavy bodies throwing themselves against the wood. Glass shattered. Zora shouted out a warning, and the clang of Lord Whitney’s sword rang out. Demons howled, rage and bloodlust in their uncanny voices.

“Of course,” said the geminus, mockingly solicitous, “you are welcome to join your friends in their useless battle. But know that you fight for nothing. And once my master’s soldiers destroy your mortal body, your soul spends eternity in bitterest suffering.”

“Hers won’t,” said Leo, nodding toward Anne. “That is all that matters.” He drew a pistol and pointed it at the geminus’s heart. “I’ll take you to Hell with me.”

“Leo, no,” cried Anne.

The geminus tried to grab the weapon, but Leo knocked it back. It pressed against the wall, steeling itself for the death shot. The shot that would kill it, and Leo.

She must act. Resolve straightened her shoulders as she reached deep within herself, searching for the power she desperately needed. Fury and fear roused it, and she drew it forth, the bright blue energy within herself.

Shutting her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate, she seized the power and sent it forth in a blast. Anne stretched her hands out, guiding her magic. Harsh, cold wind poured out in a gale, the force so strong that Leo was knocked back against the far wall. Paintings toppled down with a crash.

Leo fought and kept himself upright. The walls groaned with the force of the tempest Anne unleashed. She had no doubt she could tear the house down to its very foundations.

“Anne,” Leo shouted. “Stop and get out of here! Before it’s too late.”

Demon screams could be heard above the roar of her storm, and the whole house shook—from her, from the massing beasts. But she would not relent, nor run. She had a purpose.

Anne stretched her hands toward the vault, guiding the tempest. Powerful wind swept to the open door ... and went right through. The storm met no barrier as it rushed through the doorway and across the threshold.

“No!” shrieked the geminus, yet it already was happening.

Her teeth bared, Anne fought to direct the wind. It poured into the vault, scouring it, rattling the shelves within, even tipping the heavy tables lining the middle of the chamber. Souls were caught up in the storm, picked up by the powerful winds so that they danced upon the air, glimmering and shining like fireflies. The sight almost distracted her with its beauty. Yet she could not waver from her purpose.

She shouted with effort as she forced the tempest to return to her. It felt like struggling with an entire herd of wild horses, her arms shaking, sweat filming her body. Anne pulled hard on the energy, calling upon every reserve of strength. The wind swirled through the vault and then, finally, rushed toward her.

Torrents of biting air churned out of the doorway, back into the corridor. As they battered her, souls also came flying out, borne aloft on the wind. The hallway filled with dozens and dozens of shining souls. Their radiance filled the corridor, spreading light.

The geminus gave a furious scream. It clawed at the air, attempting to grab the souls as they crossed the threshold. Yet they evaded the geminus’s grasp, flying away in all directions. Searching out their owners.

The final soul came spiraling out of the vault, gleaming brighter than the others. Instead of winging off to find its possessor, it stopped in front of Leo. Anne dropped her hands, and the tempest abruptly halted. Enervated, fascinated, she swayed on her feet as she watched Leo look wonderingly upon the soul. It bathed him in warm radiance. He gazed at the soul, awestruck, reverent, and reached out a shaking hand. Slowly, like a wary animal, the soul approached.

It was his soul.

All of the souls had been lovely, but Leo’s was so beautiful, so full of brilliance and possibility, tears gathered in her eyes.

Movement in the corner of her sight caught her attention. She turned to see the geminus leaping to intercept the soul.

Livia flung out her hand, and the geminus stumbled back, forced away by unseen magic. Though Leo winced from this impact, he remained standing, and held himself still as his soul drew nearer. Yet it hovered inches from his chest, as if uncertain.

“My vow to you,” Leo whispered, speaking to his own soul. “Never again will I give you away. I promise.”

Anne held her breath, waiting. She had done what she could. This moment belonged only to Leo and the soul he had relinquished. She had the distinct impression that the soul was assessing Leo, judging him. Seeing into the deepest part of him, where there could be no manipulation, no falsity. Only Leo, and the truth of his heart.

Leo, too, waited, his expression torn between hope and fear. He had never looked more vulnerable, and her own heart ached for him. As if sensing her emotion, his gaze found hers. This is because of you, his eyes said. Whatever comes afterward, it is you that made this possible.

With a sudden, darting movement, the soul shot forward. Right into Leo’s chest. He sucked in a breath, his whole body going rigid. Radiance filled him, an inner light that shone brilliantly. A smile of profound amazement and peace curved Leo’s mouth. Even as the light dimmed, the smile remained, and Anne felt the paths of tears tracing her cheeks.

“We’ve done it,” she murmured, awed.

He turned silver bright eyes to her. “You did it, Anne.” He drew himself up fully. “And I will thank you properly. Later.” Turning to the snarling geminus, he gave a predatory grin. “The gloves are finally off.”

The geminus ran.

A look of utter panic on its face, it shoved past Leo, past Anne, and plunged through Livia as it sped toward the front of the house. For a moment, Leo could only stare in astonishment. He had not anticipated the creature would run.

But he would not allow it to escape. He sprinted after it. Anne’s footsteps sounded behind him.

The spectacle in the entryway nearly stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh, my God,” whispered Anne.

Whit and Zora faced a pack of demons—scaled beasts with long, beaked faces and serrated tails that gouged the floor and walls wherever they struck. Numerous creatures swarmed through the collapsed door. Whit struck at the demons, his saber engulfed in flame, and Zora brandished a whip of fire. Both Whit and Zora made impressive sights as they combated the monsters, their movements sharp and deliberate, felling the seething horde as it tried to advance.

Of all the sights Leo had anticipated seeing in this marble-floored, elegant foyer, he never thought to observe a battle between flame-wielding humans and vicious beasts from Hell.

Immediately, Livia joined the fight. More demons swarmed into the house through the windows, and the ghost used her magic to hurl them aside like so much kindling. Some of the creatures sprawled on the ground and lay still, but others instantly clambered to their feet and charged.

A demon rushed at Whit, approaching him from behind. The entryway echoed as Leo shot the creature, its dying scream merging with the bang of the pistol.

Whit spun and saw Leo standing at one end of the foyer. Whatever he saw in Leo’s face made him smile. “So it’s done.”

Leo nodded. This was not the moment, nor had he the time, to examine how he felt now that his soul had been restored. Yet he sensed its presence within him, a wholeness that had been missing for so very long. Right now, what he felt was the need for vengeance.

He looked for the geminus. Blocked from escaping by the thick mass of brawling demons, it vaulted over the banister and ran up the staircase. Leo glanced back and forth between the ascending geminus and the battle going on in the entryway to his house.

Another surge of demons attacked. Whit swung at one beast with his fiery blade, and the creature’s head went rolling. The snap of Zora’s whip severed the arm of another, and Livia hurled demons to the walls and ceiling. Plaster dust rained down in clouds as Leo’s costly house was being decimated—and the sight filled him with vicious satisfaction.

“We have this front,” Whit yelled above the chaos. “The geminus is yours.”

Leo glanced up at the geminus. It had reached the top of the stairs and was starting down the hallway. Frustration welled—even if Leo ran full-out, he wouldn’t be able to catch the damned thing.

“I need your trust,” said Anne.

“You have it,” he said without hesitation.

Her eyes widened briefly at his immediate acceptance. Then she drew in a breath as if steadying herself and lifted her hands. Suddenly, Leo found himself surrounded by powerful currents of air. It was everywhere, all around him, and then it was beneath him. He started as he lifted up off the floor, his boots hovering above the marble floor.

Holy hell, he flew.

For a moment, he struggled against it. Then he saw Anne, and how her eyes widened with wonder at her own power. This was her doing. He was borne aloft by the wind Anne conjured.

Her awe did not last, for the geminus was getting away. Leo forced his body to relax. And then the stairs scrolled under him as he was lifted higher. The sensation was amazing—air all around him, flying up the staircase like a hawk. But all too soon, it was over, and his feet touched down at the top of the stairs, the wind dispersing.

He glanced down to Anne, still at the foot of the staircase.

“Go,” she called.

He did. Leo kept his gaze trained on the geminus’s retreating back as it ran down the corridor. It sought escape, yet every door it approached banged shut on a gust of wind. More of Anne’s doing. But her power did not reach the last door in time, and it ran inside. Into the master bedchamber.

The sounds of combat retreated as Leo sprinted along the hallway. His lone focus was the geminus. Reaching the doorway of the bedchamber, he growled when he saw the creature pushing the mattress aside to uncover the loaded pistol Leo always kept beneath the bed. Of course, the damned thing knew his secrets. It was him. Or had been.

Leo stepped inside. The geminus waved its hand and the door slammed behind him. He tugged on the doorknob. It would not move. He was barricaded inside with the geminus.

It had transformed from his double to his distortion, its features twisted, snarling mouth full of jagged teeth, its eyes solid black and awash with bitter hatred. Looking at it sickened Leo, knowing that what he saw now was his own darkness, his own hate.

He and the geminus faced each other, both with weapons drawn and aimed.

“The opportunity was yours,” spat the creature. “To rise above your station. To possess unlimited power. But, vulgar peasant that you are, you pissed it all away.”

“I never needed magic to forge my way in the world.”

“You could have had more.”

Once, that was all he wanted. More of everything. More wealth, more influence. More respect. But none of those things held value. Not when he couldn’t find peace within himself. Only Anne had given him that.

“I have everything of value.”

He fired. The geminus shot at the same time. Yet at that precise moment, the house shook with a massive impact. Both bullets missed, Leo’s hitting one of the bedposts, the geminus’s lodging in the door frame.

Before Leo could grab his musket, the geminus launched itself at him. Talons now tipped its fingers, and as he found himself grappling with the creature, its claws raked across his face. He barely felt the blaze of pain. All he knew was this fight, a fight he must win.

He and the geminus rolled across the floor of the bedchamber, slamming into furniture, trading brutal punches. This was a fight unlike any other he had known. The brawl during the theater riot was a nursery game by comparison. Now, he and the creature were vicious, relentless, determined to prevail by any means. Leo took punishing blows to the face, the chest, to any part of his body the geminus could reach. And he attacked the creature with the same ruthless cruelty.

A shriek sounded close by. Leo spared a glance to see that a demon had flown through a window, and now leapt forward to join the fight. The damned monster stood over him, slashing at his undefended back. Pain flared. He hissed as the demon screeched triumphantly. Though he struggled to hold both the demon and the geminus at bay, he was only one man.

Suddenly, the demon was hurled across the chamber, the solid bedchamber door flying off its hinges and plowing straight into the creature. As they flew through the air, the demon’s wing scraped across the geminus’s shoulder, sending it rolling across the floor. Both the door and the demon smashed through a closed window, the glass shredding the monster as it flew. It screamed once as it fell, then came a thud as its body hit the ground outside.

Leo glanced over toward the doorway. Anne stood there, hands outstretched. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and her eyes blazed with righteous fury. She had torn the door from its hinges, throwing it and the demon across the room and through the window. She had protected him from secondary attack. And she looked ready to face any and all enemies.

“Behind you,” he panted.

Anne whirled around as four demons advanced, claws out, eager for blood. Dodging their talons, she held them back with sharp, targeted blasts of wind. It amazed Leo that she was the same woman who had shaken with terror on their wedding night, yet it made perfect sense. That fierce spirit had always been within her, merely waiting for the proper time to make itself known.

“Admirable, yes,” hissed the geminus, getting to its feet, “yet futile. Like your friends downstairs, she will be slaughtered, and you shall spend eternity reliving her last agonizing moments. Over and over again.”

Rage, brilliant as an inferno, tore through Leo. He slammed his fist into the geminus’s sneering face. The creature spat blood, then struck back.

As Leo and the geminus were locked in combat, he heard Anne holding back the onslaught of demons, throwing the monsters into the walls, thrashing them with her power. Exhausted and battered as he was, his whole body aching, he drew strength from hearing her fight. Though they were each engaged in their own battles, he felt their unity of purpose, of heart, and felt a surge of power course through him.

Staggering to his feet, he hauled the geminus to standing and rained punches upon it. The creature tried to fight back, but Leo backed it into a corner. Desperate, furious, the geminus struck out with its claws. Yet it weakened.

The geminus suddenly launched itself at Leo. He acted instinctively, grabbing hold of its lapels. He swung its head toward the marble mantel. A wet crunch sounded as its head collided with the stone. Blood coated the marble, a dark smear dotted with clumps of hair, and the geminus fell to the carpet.

Leo strode over to where the creature lay on its back. It stared up lifelessly, its gaze already glazed and vacant. Taking up his musket, Leo placed the muzzle directly between its eyes and pulled the trigger. The smell of blood, brains, and gunpowder filled the room.

He did not waste time standing over the body. In two strides, he was beside Anne, still holding back the demons.

She glanced from him to the geminus. Though she blanched at the grisly sight, a small, victorious smile curved her mouth.

“An ungentlemanly fight,” she said.

“I’m no gentleman.” He swung his musket around, holding it like a club.

“Oh, I know that very well.”

The remaining demons, seeing the geminus’s inert body, turned and fled. Yet sounds of combat continued to rise up the stairs. The battle was far from over.

He walked to Anne, and held out his hand. When she took it, sliding her palm against his, he felt a hot, purifying rightness.

Together, they headed downstairs to join the fight.