Demon Chained (Shadowfae Chronicles) (32 page)

Take a fucking number, whoever you are. I'm busy, waiting for Kane to hunt me down and strip the rest of my flesh from my bones. But the prick's taking his sweet time about it. How long have I been here? An hour? A day? A month?

Heat swells my crumbling skin, and my muscles are losing their strength, the fibers tearing loose whenever I move. Tendons shine white in my ripped forearm. The air reeks of blood, but I don't mind that anymore. It's better than the taste in my mouth, thick and foul, textured with lumps of my flesh. I itch all over, Joey's poison's swelling my wounds and thickening my throat like some weird tonsillitis. A cough tickles my palate, and I swallow it before something else comes up. I've only got so much to spit out.

In the corner, the Katie-thing hisses at me, plague sores dripping on her face. Her pretty mouth is jagged with bloody teeth. There's her mother, too, black roaches crawling from her jeans, her honey-blond curls torn and smeared with charcoal. A single line of blood trickles from the bullet hole in her forehead, sliding between her brows to ring one eye with a scarlet teardrop. "You were too late," she whispers for the hundredth time. "We needed you. You broke my heart."

I look away, and tell myself it's not so bad anymore. They're probably not even really here. Right.

"Tam." There it is again. A woman, insistent. Not my ex. Footsteps, light and careful. "Tam, don't hide. It's me."

Jewel.

My guts bubble, painful, and I pretend it's just decay. I pretend I don't recognize her, that she hasn't come to taunt me, too.

A shadow fractures on the broken concrete, and a silhouette darkens in the doorway.

I hug the lamp and huddle tighter under the table. She's not really here, Tam. You did everything you could for her. Just helltricks, like Katie. Whatever she says, it isn't true.

Silken-clad legs scissor closer, and stop in front of me. "Tam? Don't be afraid. I've come to get you out."

I laugh, before the Jewel-thing can spout any more bullshit, and phlegm splashes my tongue. I spit it at her feet, white on the charred ground. "That's a new one. Just hop on the guilt-trip express and get it over with. I don't have all day."

The thing ducks its head, squinting at me with black Jewel-eyes. "You gonna come out, or do I have to crawl under there and kick your butt?"

Nope. It isn't the real her. The real her woke up in the sun aeons ago, shaking grass seeds from her hair and wondering why the fuck she just had sex with a dead guy. She isn't skulking about in a garbage trap, waiting to give me a hard time. Frankly, my girl's got better things to do.

"Give it up, already. Let's have it. What, did I break your heart? Take your virginity? Leave the fucking toilet seat up? You're all so goddamn predictable."

I wait for the thing to bug out, bare those needle teeth and growl like a pissed-off panther, and I grin to myself in the reddish gloom. Go ahead, snarl at me. Give yourself away. Show me you're just some hellspawned copy of my girl, and then we can all go back to sleep.

But she laughs, crystalline. "Takes more than a stint in hell to break your attitude, huh."

"Bet your ass it will." But my heart stings to hear this false thing laugh at my bullshit. I really liked that about her. If this is a hellish mirage, it's the best yet.

She twists beneath the table and reaches out a green-splattered hand. "Don't give me crap, dead man. I'm already pissed at you for this. Come on, we don't have much time. Gavain'll be here soon."

"Gavain's here?" I've been wondering when he'd turn up. If my hellshow is guilt, they're missing a big-ass part of it without him.

"Yeah." She flushes, just like the real Jewel, her pretty cheeks the highest point of color. "Kind of. I, uh . . . left him behind. He's got this crazy idea about offing himself to get you free."

The lamp burns cold in my hands. If this wasn't real, Gavain would already be here, wouldn't he? Reminding me of every evasive or dishonest or just plain cruel thing I ever said to him. Something about not asking for his goddamn sympathy would be a good one to start with.

Still, just seeing her—this hellish approximation of her—warms my heart, and it isn't right. There has to be a catch. I'm tricksier than you, hellspawn. Come out, whatever you are. "Can I ask you something?"

The thing's fake Jewel-brows crease. "Sure. Get on with it."

Heh. Tricked ya. "Can you forgive me?"

She stares. "What for?"

Don't be shy, Tam. Might as well get it out there. If it isn't her, it won't care. If it really is her . . .

The stink of imminent confession practically shimmers in the air. God, I'm so pathetic.

I suck in a sticky, hell-damp breath, and say it all.

"For screwing up your life. For not understanding what I was doing when I stole your lamp, for liking you and not saying so, for being so scared of fucking up that I wouldn't try. For not being able to protect you. And for acting like a total asshole and falling a little bit in love with you." My eyes burn, and I swallow a stupid wet thing that slides down the back of my nose. "I've done all I can for you, Jewel. I'm sorry if it isn't enough. Forgive me."

The beautiful Jewel-thing still stares, and I wipe blood from my nose and turn away from her.

Take that, you lying hellbitch. I'm tired.

***

Chapter Thirty-Two

I goggled, and realized my mouth had fallen open.

I tried to close it, but not before words poured out against my will. "Enough? Christ, Tam, you've killed yourself for me. When will you get it into your stubborn head that the whole damn world isn't your fault?"

He twisted his dark head back around, and at his confused expression, I lost it. "Time you woke up from your selfish little dream, Tam. You stealing my lamp? It was an
accident
. I don't blame you. I'll spend eternity chasing around the earth like a blue-assed fly after lamp-coveting fools. Guess what? It's not your fault. It's got nothing to do with you.
I've
got nothing to do with you. We're not bloody engaged or anything, so you go ahead and do whatever the hell you like. I can deal with it."

He choked in disbelief. "But—"

"Shut up, I'm not finished." Sunny warmth swelled my chest. It felt good, to finally let him have it. "Just because we had great sex doesn't mean you owe me anything. I'm a big girl. I had a good time with a guy I'll probably never see again after today. That hurts. But you know what? It's not your fault. If I want to get all dewy-eyed over you, that's my bloody problem. I won't have you guilt-tripping over me, so snap the fuck out of it."

I heaved in a breath, sated.

For a long moment, he just looked at me. Blood dripped in his eyes, but he didn't wipe it away. "Guess you're not one of them, then."

I crunched my nose. "What?"

He crawled out from under the table, my lamp cradled in his arm, where the flesh was ripped almost to the bone. Hell wasn't doing his complexion any favors, and his hair stuck together in wet clumps where his skull was broken. But he still looked raw, dark, dangerous. Special.

He waved a scraped hand at the empty room. "Them."

"Tam, there's no one there."

A ghost of a grin tweaked his mouth, and he gave some imaginary person on the other side of the room the finger. "Course not. I did too, y'know."

"What?" I was starting to sound like an echo. "You did too what?"

He flicked me a candid glance. "Have a good time."

A scream outside cut off my reply, which was a good thing, because for once, I didn't know what to say.

Footsteps, wails, a body crashing into the dirt. My guts writhed, tense. It could be Gavain. But it might not be. "Come on, we gotta get out of here."

He laughed. "All for it. But they kinda don't let you just wander off when you're done here. Any ideas?"

Another scream from outside, a wet splatter, a crunch of bone. "Gavain wanted me to swap you with him—" The walls shook with a massive blow, like some giant fist had pounded down from on high, and bricks rumbled down to fill the doorway in a cloud of dust.

Tam grabbed me, and we thudded into the wall together, in a rain of shattered bricks. His bleeding arm crushed around me, his body shielding me, the lamp cradled between us. It was looking pretty damn tempting, those safe little brass walls calling to me. If only I could smoke Tam out as well.

Or swap him.

My blood iced. Swap him. Me for him. Hell for earth.

I might survive this mess. From the look of his condition, Tam surely wouldn't. What happened if you died in hell? Was there another one, a hell's hell, a never-ending descent like a demonic hall of mirrors, endless reflections of torment?

As Tam would say: who the fuck knew? If I didn't do something, we'd both be crushed. What's the worst thing that can happen? I end up in hell. So sad. I'm going there anyway. It can't be worse than being a lamp-slave. At least here, I can feel.

And maybe, the world's better off without me. It isn't my fault that they all kill each other to own me. But that doesn't make it a good thing.

All the same, my guts hollowed out and filled with the cold water of despair. I liked it here, in his arms. I didn't want to go.

I twisted my head up and planted a clumsy kiss on his mouth. After a shocked second, his lips came alive on mine, warm and bloody like I remembered, and I didn't want to break away but I did. "You ready?"

"For you? I wish."

The ground shook, and a smile tweaked my lips. "Nope. I do." And in a cloud of gritty brick dust I closed my eyes, and gave it all the wish I had.

***

Gavain leans on his weapon, just for a second, gripping it with both hands and resting his aching head on torn wrists. Blood plinks into the dirt. His blade's shadow curves dark and scarlet-edged on the cracked ground. The sword's long gone, snapped in a bone-splitting blow, but this scythe fits well in his hands, and the way the ichor splashes from the edge when he swings is a thing of beauty.

He looks up, fire in his veins, and no bugs skitter on his knuckles. A bugless hell. The broken brick tenement looms across a crevasse-split road, glimmering in his fae-struck vision like a mirage. Tam's in there. He knows it. With his hell-crazed senses, he can smell it, and if there's one scent he knows like his own, it's Tam.

The smoke girl flew away. He doesn't know why. But soon he'll be there, and Tam can go home.

A gnarled carrion bird swoops on moldering wings, snapping its horny beak. Gavain whirls and slashes two-handed, and the corpse flops in two dripping pieces. Beneath him, the ground quakes, lurching at a steep angle. His loping run skitters to a scramble as he tries to keep his feet. The road before him cracks, yawning wide like a demon's grin, and Tam's building shudders and crashes to a pile of bricks and dust.

With a roiling yell, Gavain dives across the chasm, landing in a heap of scree and bruised limbs. He throws his scythe aside and scrabbles in the broken bricks until his nails rip from his fingers, but there's nothing there.

Nothing but the lost smell of jasmine.

Long-faded sunshine brightens his heart. Jewel found him. Tam's safe . . .

A shiny black flicker, just in the corner of his bleeding eye. Too late, the incongruous scent of mint tweaks his skin tight. He whirls, scrabbling for his weapon. But slick black flesh slams into his legs, throwing him to the dusty ground.

Icy green eyes flash, blinding him. Gavain slashes, his bloody claws curled. But the serpent coils and strikes, and green-tipped fangs hack deep into Gavain's throbbing throat.

Pain rips into his veins, sweet solace. The venom works fast. Already his limbs fall limp, his mouth slack. His vision dims and wobbles, and he slumps to the rubble, wheezing. The serpent snarls, and whiplashes. Its black reptile flesh
shifts
, limbs and sinews and human skin, a sweep of pale blond hair stained with black-rotting blood.

Shiny Joey DiLuca cracks shifting vertebrae, and spits out a green venom-stained mouthful. "Should've finished me when you had the chance, fairyshit."

Gavain chokes, bloody. He tries to talk, to tell the snake to go fuck himself, but his jaw won't move, and Joey snaps back to serpent and slithers away.

Oh, well.

That hellish sunset glares in Gavain's eyes, but he can't roll over. The pain in his limbs is numbing, fading to silence. His throat swells shut. He can't breathe. But that's okay. Tam's safe. Tam's happy. Tam doesn't hate him.

It's all he ever wanted.

Gavain closes his eyes, and waits for morning.

***

Chapter Thirty-Three

Screeching agony fades from my limbs, and cold air washes blessedly over my ripped skin. Dizziness thuds backwards in my skull, and I realize I'm flat on my back on a cold floor. Silence clamors oddly in my ears, dull and distant like always. I open my eyes, and there's no blood in them.