Blood Infernal: The Order of the Sanguines Series (55 page)

A scatter of twisted beasts came charging toward them, breaking away from the siege around Christian and Sophia. Something black shot out of the mists overhead and dove at them. Erin barely got a look at the featherless, reptilian shape before it struck that golden light around her and burst into flames.

Rhun tugged her aside as its body crashed to the ice.

Upon seeing this, the other beasts split away, fleeing that glow, slithering back into the darkness, wanting nothing more to do with that golden light.

She and Rhun hurried on, careful of the cracks in the ice, winding their way toward Christian and Sophia. The pair was not doing well. They were an island in a roiling mass of demons.

Christian had removed the sacred chain from the chest and slung the heavy links around his neck, even though the silver must burn him. He whipped the loose end of the chain like some sacred bola, lashing and striking out at the demons. It ripped through the horde as if those links were made of molten steel.

Still, Christian’s face streamed blood, and his robes hung in tatters around him.

Next to him, Sophia was even worse off. The small woman noted their approach and perhaps that was all she had been waiting for—holding out only this long by sheer force of will.

Erin saw it in her eyes.

Don’t . . .

Sophia gave one last valiant effort, swinging around and spearing a beast in the back before it could attack Christian. But to do so, it forced her to let her own guard down. The horde was upon her, swarming over her, bearing her down.

Christian tried to fight to Sophia’s side, but there were too many.

Erin finally reached them, bringing her golden light, scattering the beasts. Something dark and spiny leaped away, leaving behind a broken body on the ice.

Erin skidded to a stop and covered her mouth.

No
.

Sophia, earnest and kind, was gone.

Erin trembled, but Rhun steadied her.

“Only the book matters,” he said. “It must reach Lucifer.”

She nodded.
Or Sophia’s sacrifice would be in vain
.

Still, it took a small push from Rhun to get her moving. Soon, though, she was running, flying across the ice, her limbs powered with preternatural strength, aiming for that cone of light. Demons gave way before that glow, but they no longer fled. They hissed and snarled in her wake, as if they knew that they would claim her soon.

And they might yet get that chance.

Even the Blood Gospel could not withstand such palpable evil for long. The golden light had begun to tatter, torn by those mists, shredded by the malevolence found here. The deeper she went, the worse the damage.

Rhun and Christian did their best to compensate, flanking her, keeping away anything that dared to approach. Christian lashed out with the chain and struck a loping hairless ape. The hiss of burning flesh accompanied the creature’s agonized shriek as it rolled clear of their path.

Erin concentrated on their goal: Lucifer continued to strain from his throne, shattering new links. His wings, feathered by black flames, battered against the brilliance that imprisoned him. Each strike dimmed that light, streaking it with darkness.

She rushed to close the distance, but her strength faded with that golden light. Her legs ached, her arms felt too heavy even to hold the gospel, and her body began to scream again with bloodlust.

Ahead of her Lucifer thrashed, tearing at the silver chains that bound him.

Finally, she and the others reached the edge of that shining cone.

Erin slowed, stumbling the last of the way. Christian outpaced her and reached a hand toward that white light. He screamed and yanked his arm back, pulling back a smoking stump, ending at his wrist. The light had burned away his hand.

Christian swung to Rhun. Through the man’s agony, an even greater pain shone forth: the knowledge that even the Sanguinists could not pass this last barrier.

Erin moved to join them, but as her golden light touched that barrier, it snuffed out, taking away her shield. Before the Sanguinists could react, a chitinous black beast leaped out of the mists behind her and landed on her back, latching jointed legs to her and sinking fangs into her shoulder.

She screamed.

12:25
P
.
M
.

Rhun whirled, striking out with his silver
karambit
, severing two of the creature’s six legs. It was enough for Christian to rip the beast from Erin’s back and fling the monster toward that cone of light. Its body struck that barrier—and blew away into a cloud of fiery embers.

Rhun tugged Erin behind him, as he and Christian faced the gathering mass of beasts shadowing the heavier mists. Rhun bared his blade, while Christian slowly swung the end of the chain, back and forth, letting it scrape the ice menacingly.

“Rhun . . .” Erin moaned.

He turned, seeing a poisonous darkness creeping up from her neckline, boiling away her skin as it rose. She swooned on her legs. The Blood Gospel fell from her trembling hands.

Whatever had bit her must have been venomous.

He had turned to help her when something fell out of the fog overhead and knocked him hard to the ice. It appeared to be a leathery bat, grown to tremendous size. Needle-sharp teeth snapped at his face. With only one arm, he had to drop his blade and snatch the beast by the neck, keeping those jaws from his throat.

Off to the side, Erin began to topple over, falling toward that white light, but Christian rushed forward and caught her around the waist with his bad arm. He hauled her to safety, while grabbing the gospel from the ice and tucking the book into his coat.

As Christian retreated, Erin struggled in his grip, her head lolling, turning her face toward the light, toward Lucifer.

Even now she seemed determined to complete her mission.

Christian dragged her away, coming to Rhun’s aid. He slashed with his chain, knocking the bat creature away, burning a swath through its thick hide. It hissed and flopped back into the darkness.

From those mists, darker shadows closed in on them.

“What now?” Christian asked.

12:26
P
.
M
.

Erin’s cold body ran with a poisonous fire. She felt the flesh melting around the bite wound in her shoulder. Her blood flowed heavily there, as if trying to put out that fire. The same venom ate at her face and ran down her arm on that side.

Again
.

She had a hard time focusing through the pain, the nausea, but she knew that word was important. A moment ago, she had begun to fall. To brace herself, she had thrust out her arm, already flowing with toxins—only to have her hand and forearm pierce that blazing barrier. The purity of that light cooled her arm and vanquished that dark poison.

Then Christian had caught her and pulled her away.

The toxin was again flowing into her arm.

Too weak even to stand, she hung in Christian’s arm. She found it hard to speak as her cheek blistered, but she had to get them to understand.

“The light . . .” she gasped out. “I can pass through it.”

“She’s delirious,” Christian said.

“I can . . .” She rolled her head to face Rhun, letting him see the truth there, to trust in their blood bond, in their mutual understanding of each other.

“She speaks the truth,” Rhun said, glancing toward that cone and the dark angel thrashing within that prison.

Before a plan could be made, the dark shadows of the mists fell upon them. Rhun was quickly separated from them. Compromised by his missing arm, he could barely keep the beasts from his throat, let alone return to their side. He soon vanished into the fog, but he still fought out there, revealing himself in flashes of silver.

Christian never let her go. He kept up a valiant fight, swinging his chain, clearing a space around them, holding the demonic horde at bay. But his strength began to ebb, as he reached the bottom of his reserves after battling so long beside Sophia.

His bad arm tightened around her, glancing toward that brilliance that imprisoned Lucifer. He swung the chain once more, striking a giant snake so hard that blood whipped from its body and spattered against the cone of light, burning away with a hiss.

Christian then shrugged off the heavy links from his shoulder.

Erin frowned. “What are you—?”

“It appears this can’t get done without sacrificing a Christian.” A smile flashed across his features. “I will miss you, Dr. Erin Granger.”

She understood.

No . . .

Christian wrapped his arms around her—and leaped high, using the last of his strength to hurtle over the nearest beasts. Together, they struck the barrier. His body burst to fiery ash around her as she fell through. She crashed safely inside, skidding on her hip, a sob trapped in her throat. The Blood Gospel slid up against her, as unharmed as she was.

She sat up, feeling strength returning to her, the black poison vanquished from her body by the passage through the light.

She stared beyond the barrier, watching all that was left of her funny, irreverent, and brave friend drift down in a rain of fiery embers.

Christian deserved better. He had sacrificed himself to get her into this cone of light. She intended to make sure that debt was paid in full.

She picked up the Blood Gospel and turned to face the prisoner.

Lucifer sat upon his throne, no longer fighting, staring down at her, plainly curious and possibly surprised at her presence.

She did not shrink from that black gaze. She had given her soul and her life to stand before him. And now she only had one thing left to give.

She lifted the book in her palms.

Only Eve could pick the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, and only the daughter of Eve could bring that knowledge back to the serpent.

Lucifer’s lips moved, but no words came forth, only a sound like the peal of a great bell. Still, such a metaphor paled from the true beauty of that sound, the voice of an angel, the music of the spheres. The bell pealed again, bright and questioning.

He was speaking, but she could not understand him.

She raised the book higher, hoping he would understand, if not her words, then at least her actions.

“Here is the Gospel of Christ, written in His blood and hidden for many long years. My task is to bring it to you, to fulfill the covenant that you made with Eve long ago.”

That head cocked to the side, those flawless features unreadable.

Erin splayed open the book between her palms to show him. As the cover broke open, golden light washed forth. Even without looking, she knew those pages were full of glowing script, all written in Enochian.

Lucifer leaned down, then reached a massive hand toward her.

Erin wanted to run, but she held her ground.

Once those fingers were low enough, she closed the book and gently slipped the gospel into his blackened hands. He sat back again, taking the book with him. With one ebony finger he opened the cover, and that golden light shone even brighter, flaring with such majesty that it burned Erin’s eyes.

She had to look away, its glare more fearsome than a thousand eclipsing suns. Still, she felt that light burning through her skull, through her closed eyelids. For a moment, she felt shreds of understanding caught inside her mind: of the secrets of creation, of the movement of stars, of the hidden code of life. But those scraps fluttered through her, whirling away like leaves in a whirlwind. She tried to mentally grasp after them, to hold them, even though she knew such knowledge might destroy her.

So she weathered that storm, waiting for it to finally fade, which at last it did, accompanied by a heavy clanging that drew her gaze back up.

Lucifer still sat in his throne, but his chains lay at his feet.

He was free.

Still, that was not what drove her to her knees. His body was no longer black, but as white as polished marble, aglow with an inner fire that shone from his eyes as he stared upward, the gospel closed in his lap. The black of his sins had been cleansed from his body as surely as the poison had been from her flesh.

Lucifer had been redeemed.

His beauty and glory shone so brightly that the rest of the world seemed shadowy and insubstantial. The cone of light, the flaming pieces of the broken pyramid of fire had all vanished, consumed by the sacred brilliance.

Farther out, Erin could make out the dark lake, the gray mountains, and the blue sky. Even the bright wintry day was returning as the eclipse ended. Still, it all seemed distant, a dream of another world.

For a breath, that view shifted, filling in with a warmer light, melting winter into a summer of green grass, blue waters, and a blazing red sun. Off by the cliffs, two trees stood guard, their bowers thick with leaves, their branches heavy with ripened fruit.

Could this be the Garden of—?

Bells rang out again, impossible to ignore, pulling Erin’s gaze back to Lucifer. But these joyous peals rose not from the redeemed angel, but from the heavens above. The chorus was one of elation and welcome, inviting Lucifer to return. After all these years, they wanted him to come home.

Lucifer rose up, expanding his wings, feathered now with white flames.

With his gaze never leaving the promise of Heaven, he reached down to her and rested a finger atop her head. From that touch, a warmth suffused through her, filling her body from head to toe. Joy bubbled up inside her like a spring.

Then a drum thumped once in her ears—then again, quieter.

She recognized that rhythm, having heard it all her life.

It was her heartbeat.

She covered her face, a sob of happiness escaping her. Lucifer had brought her back. She had sacrificed her life for him, and he had returned it.

The bells pealed louder now, with a touch of insistency, a new urgency.

It was time for this bright angel to return to his rightful place.

Answering that call, Lucifer beat his great wings together and rose into the air, climbing to hover over the valley. He hung for a long instant, holding the book against his chest.