Dark Calling (The Demonata 9)

I don’t understand what he’s saying. He must be insane. The barrier will break and they’ll be on us in seconds. We have to throw everything we have at them or else we’re doomed.

Then I remember when we last gave the Kah-Gash absolute freedom. It drove the universes back in time. If we could count on it working in our favor again, there’d be no need to worry. But we don’t know what it will do if we set it loose a second time. Maybe it would give us the strength to defeat the demons—or maybe it would wipe out our universe and hand victory to the Demonata. We dare not play that card unless all else is lost. Our situation is desperate but not hopeless, and until that changes, Grubbs is right to hold back.

“We have to fight,” he roars. “Are you ready?” I nod weakly. “Bec?”

“Go for it,” she growls.

With a battle-hungry cry, Grubbs explodes the barrier. A wall of energy spreads like a ripple from a nuclear explosion, flattening the demons closest to us. For a few seconds we’re standing at the center of a clear circle, confusion reigning all around. Then the demons farther back recover, bellow brutally, and push forward, clambering over the bodies of the fallen, to surround and enclose us.

The real fight begins.

It’s wilder than any battle I’ve ever been involved in. I’ve laughed in the face of overwhelming odds before, but nobody’s laughing now. There are too many of them, demons of every rank, from familiars up to masters like Lord Loss. All they share is a total hatred of us and a determination to strip our flesh from our bones.

We strike without pause, using bolts and fireballs of magic. Hundreds perish within seconds, but still they press on, thousands of fresh monsters to replace each that falls.

I try to stay in touch with Bec and Grubbs, but we’re forced apart. Grubbs is dragged away by several demons at least five times his size. A winged beast snatches Bec from the ground and shoots into the air with her.

I go down under the feet of dozens of hard-shelled demons. Claws slash, fangs and pincers snap. I feel cuts open down my legs and arms, across my stomach and chest. I ignore the pain, use magic to numb the worst of it, and with a great effort thrust off the demons. Yelling, I stagger to my feet, then collapse again beneath a dinosaur-shaped beast.

Fangs lock around my throat and tighten. I turn the flesh of my neck to steel but the fangs continue to grind together. This is the end. There’s nothing I can do. Some wounds are fatal, no matter how magical you are. Once my throat’s been crushed, I’m as dead as—

A silver, purple-tipped spike pokes sharply through the center of the dinosaur’s head. It squeals, then falls aside. A panting Dervish pulls me to my feet. The spikes on his head have tripled in length and writhe like snakes, independent of one another, jabbing at the demons around us, driving them back.

“How much longer will it take you to open that freakin’ window?” he roars.

I look for the patches of light. They’re twenty feet away, drifting apart. With a curse, I summon them, pat the stray patches into place, and start adding new lights to the pack.

“How long?” Dervish screams again, blood flowing from a chunk that’s been bitten out of the left side of his chest—I see snapped white bones poking through the streams of red.

“Maybe a minute,” I gasp, hands blurring.

I glance around as I’m putting the window together. Grubbs is back on his feet, supported by his retinue of werewolves, who’ve torn into the demons around him, attacking rabidly, tearing strips out of their foes. Bec is still fighting with the winged demon and has forced it towards the ground. Meera’s close by, doggedly working her way back to us. Her left arm’s been severed at the shoulder. Half her face is a clawed-up, blood-soaked mess—her beauty’s been spoiled forever. But more worrying than that are the guts dangling from a hole in her stomach, and the small demon wrapped around her waist, tugging at the intestines, reeling them out like a cat unraveling a ball of string.

“Meera!” I scream, desperate to help but needing to stay focused on the window. It’s our only hope of escape. If I abandon it, we’re all doomed.

Dervish has spotted Meera too. He begins to dart to her rescue, then swears and drives back a multi-eyed monster that was about to snap off my hands. He has to stand guard. I can’t protect myself while I’m working on the window. He’s tied to his post, as I am. He weeps with frustration as he fights off the hordes clustered around us, muttering Meera’s name over and over.

The demon working on Meera’s guts stick its head into the hole in her stomach. It’s giggling sickeningly, like a child tucking into a box of treats. But then its head explodes and it topples to the ground. A figure breaks through the demons around Meera and hauls her forward, towards us. I think my eyes are playing tricks, but when I blink and see the same thing, I realize I’m not dreaming.

Kirilli Kovacs is plowing through the ranks of demons. One of his hands has turned into a steel scythe and he’s mowing down all who come too close. He’s the one who rescued Meera.

“Kovacs, you lunatic!” Dervish yells with delight. “You’re supposed to be a coward!”

“I am!” Kirilli screeches.

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t know! I think I’m saving the day! It feels—”

A demon sweeps Kirilli’s legs from under him. He flies into the air with a yelp, then is knocked sideways by a bellowing, half-human beast intent on getting her hands on us before any of the others finish us off. Juni Swan is back in the thick of the action.

She angles for Dervish, dripping flesh as she charges, swiping demons out of her way, teeth bared, eyes rolling madly. With a welcoming grunt, Dervish sets his feet firmly and snarls, losing interest in all the other monsters, forgetting his duty to protect me. As Juni rushes him, he grabs hold of her arms and swings her around like an adult whirling a baby. Juni spits acid into his face. He neutralizes it swiftly but not before a wide swathe of his flesh bubbles away. The pair fall to the ground, wrestling savagely, stabbing, biting, punching, and spitting, each hellbent on murdering the other.

The window’s almost fully formed, but there’s no one to watch my back now. Several hound-like demons press tight around me, snapping at my face, digging channels in my flesh with their jagged claws. “Grubbs! Bec!” I scream, turning from the window to drive back the demons. “I need help!”

Grubbs roars at his werewolves. Slipping free of the giants, they struggle towards me, blasting and chewing a path through the packed ranks of monsters.

In the air, Bec’s seen off the challenge of the winged demon, but Lord Loss has hit the scene. The pair tumble and roll around overhead. Half his arms are holding her rigidly against his rancid flesh. The other half are lashing her, pulling her hair, trying to gouge out her eyes, digging into her soft flesh.