“A magic null who is still human,” the demon-goddess said. “Which means he can die.”
I didn’t dare go check whether Nash was still alive. I didn’t hear Maya wailing in grief, so I hoped for the best. Nash was pretty tough.
“We’ll give you Emmett Smith,” I said. “He hasn’t done much to make us like him, so he’s all yours. Take him and lift the hex. I have things to do.”
“Don’t bargain with me, girl. I’ll take Emmett and anyone else I choose. I haven’t eaten a Nightwalker in a long time, and I see he fed off the dragon. Doubly delicious.”
“Stop it!” Fremont charged to us, anger giving him courage. “Just stop it! This is all my fault. I brought you here. Not them, not Janet. They have nothing to do with this.”
The succubus turned to Fremont, but she didn’t try to touch him. Good thing; I’d have broken her fingers if she had, and who knows what she would have done then? “Aren’t you sweet? I really like this one, Stormwalker. He’s got stamina in the sack, believe me. I might let him live so he can please me again.”
I couldn’t tell whether Fremont found her declaration terrifying, flattering, or embarrassing. “Can’t you do something, Janet?” he pleaded.
I wanted to. I thought about what Coyote had said about the Beneath magic in me tearing open the vortexes. I thought about how I’d felt when I’d drawn on it, ready to blast out the wards and bury us alive, and Nash having to smother me to stop me. I might be just as dangerous as the demon-goddess. Which was the lesser of two evils? Her or me?
The best thing would be for us to let her and Emmett fight it out. Whoever survived such a battle would be weakened, and then Mick, Ansel, Pamela, and Nash could clean up. I and my reality-ripping magic could stay out of it.
The demon-goddess turned to me as though she read my thoughts. “It’s difficult, isn’t it? Watching those you love die? I know exactly how you feel, because my own son was torn apart by this monster.” She flicked her fingers, and Emmett’s nose started streaming even more blood. “But I despise you at the same time, Stormwalker. It’s such a human thing, to throw someone to the wolves in order to save yourself.”
If she were trying to make me feel guilty for my choices, she was wasting her time. Coyote was dead, and the grief in me would know no bounds. He’d died for us, and had known he’d truly die—Sacrifice, life and death—it’s all part of the job, he’d said.
This entire situation was about the demon-goddess and Emmett, and if one or both of them had to perish to solve the problem, I really didn’t care. The world would be minus one demon-goddess and a nasty sorcerer. Good.
“You cast the hex so you could get Emmett here to punish him,” I said. “So punish him, already. I’m getting bored, and I want a shower.”
The demon-goddess smiled at me, and the similarities between her and my mother unnerved me not a little. “Don’t you understand? This is no longer your show, Stormwalker. It’s mine. Torturing and killing is what demons do. It’s fun for us, and I plan to have fun.” She focused on Mick, who had his fire in his blood-caked hands. “Him first. He’s the strongest. And I’m at my peak.”
My heart went cold. She could easily kill Mick, and there wouldn’t be any debate about whether I should stop her.
With one flick of the demon-goddess’s slender finger, Mick’s fire died. Mick looked at me with fire-streaked black eyes, while the dragons came to life on his arms. “Run, Janet,” he said in his soft voice. “Just go.”
He was going to turn dragon. He was going to let the huge beast in him erupt in my lobby and take care of this the dragon way. Chomp.
“Down!” I screamed. “Everybody get down!”
I felt the succubus reach into the hex and let it flare. A Murphy’s Law spell—everything that could go wrong with us, would.
Mick wouldn’t be able to contain his dragon, and he’d kill us all, maybe himself, too. Emmett Smith, mighty sorcerer, was cursing as nose blood gushed all over his pristine suit. He desperately held his handkerchief to his face, gasping for breath. No help there.
Cassandra was flat on the floor, Pamela over her. Her halfwolf body contorted, flashing in and out of wolf and wolfhuman. Claws raked against Cassandra’s back, and Cassandra cried weakly. Ansel, fangs gleaming, eyes molten red, launched himself at Coyote’s body. There was no one left to hold him back.
My Beneath magic, which had been waiting below my surface, now gleefully sprang forth, knowing I wouldn’t be able to control it.
The demon-goddess sensed my building power and smiled at me. Our battle would be the death of us all—whether or not we opened the vortexes, there would be a smoking crater where my hotel had once stood.
“Bring it, girl,” the succubus said.
I forced my hand down to my side, the incandescent ball of light in it fighting to get free. “No,” I said.
“No? You want to, sweetie. You want to see who’d win this fight.”
“Maybe. But they’d all die,” I said.
“What do you care? They’re far weaker than you, even that pathetic ununculous who killed my son.”
“Coyote died to help us. Sacrifice, he said. If you let the rest of them go, I’ll stay and fight you. Give you a chance to kill me.”
The succubus’s gaze moved to Emmett. “I want the sorcerer.”
“Fine. Whoever wins, gets him.”
“Damn you,” Emmett burbled. “I’m not a prize.”
“You are today,” I said. “Shut up. Your hunger for power has resulted in the death of my friend, and you get to pay for that.” The ball of light flared in my palm, its incandescence making everyone cringe, even the big, bad Emmett. My headache vanished, and I felt whole, healed, and unstoppable.
The demon-goddess’s lip curled. “Do you challenge me, Stormwalker?”
I drew a breath to answer, but before I could, someone rushed past me. Fremont, the least affected by the hex, snatched up the knife Mick had dropped on the floor and hurtled himself toward the succubus.
“Fremont!” I yelled. “No!”
Fremont ignored me. I had to banish my Beneath magic again before I could grab for him, and then it was too late.
“I thought you were an angel,” Fremont sobbed, his voice harsh with betrayal. He plunged the knife straight into the succubus.
It didn’t kill her. She was a demon-goddess, immune to the weapons of man. Coyote had died because his god powers had been somehow stripped away, rendering him mortal.
The succubus was immortal and could only be defeated by magic. Collective magic, maybe. If I could get Cassandra and Mick functioning, maybe Emmett as well . . . If I could make the hex work against her somehow . . .
Without stopping to think, I charged. She smacked Fremont away, and raised her hand to knock me aside. I grabbed the forces of the storm outside and filled the hotel with wind.
The hex made certain it turned into a tornado. Wind ripped through the lobby, tearing the remaining pictures from the walls, overturning furniture. It lifted the coyote statue and sent it flying through the air. The statue smashed through a window, tumbling end over end to land in the parking lot outside. The window immediately sealed itself once again, the hex not wanting the living inside to escape.
The succubus laughed at me. She seemed to stand in a bubble of protection, and the wind didn’t touch her. The knife still stuck out of her chest, and she put her hands on her hips and laughed.
I couldn’t reach her. Screw Coyote’s warnings about the vortexes. I had to end this.
I lifted my hand again, my Beneath magic thrilled to come out. I hefted the white ball of magic. “Hey, succubus,” I said.
The succubus’s eyes widened, but not at my magic. Her chest had started to smoke. She grabbed the hilt of the knife and tried to pull it from between her breasts, but the blade stayed inside her as though welded in place.