Zoe Archer - Sinner’s Heart

Swinging up into the saddle, he thought, She won’t. To do so would mean admitting to her husband that she was planning an assignation. He kicked his horse into motion.

For a soldier, Livia said, you’re quite adept at subterfuge.

There are many ways to win a war, he answered.

Locating John was their goal—and Lady Maxwell had been gracious enough in her infidelity to provide the details of where Bram would find her husband. Where Lord Maxwell was, John would be, as well. A gathering of his enemies made a perfect target.

John would act against them, though the how of it was yet unknown.

But we will be there to stop him, Bram thought, urging his horse to greater speed as he headed for Wimbledon.

Day faded to twilight, color leeching from the world as the sun dipped below the horizon. He crossed the river at Putney Bridge, and the Thames made a dark, slick shape beneath, empty of watermen ferrying passengers in their skiffs. The land felt emptied, derelict, as he pushed further south of London. Hardly any lights burned in the windows of scattered homes. The village of Putney was deserted, its streets dark, and so it went, the further Bram rode into the night, passing few people in the gloom of night.

Full darkness enveloped the countryside. At last, the stately form of Camden House appeared out of the shadows. It stood in the middle of a sprawling park. Crisply modern, it rose up two stories, proudly displaying rows of symmetrical windows in its brick and pale stone façade. In contrast to the darkness, lights blazed from the windows, an announcement that more than servants occupied the house.

Not especially discrete, Livia noted.

No one within believes they have anything to fear. Not tonight.

Where is John?

No bloody idea. But he’ll show.

Weary though his horse was, the mare responded to his urging for more speed. It galloped across the wide, open parkland. Camden House drew closer. Men’s sober voices drifted in muted waves across the park. No signs of disturbance or trouble.

He could be in hiding nearby, Livia said above the pounding hoof beats.

Movement in the darkness snared his attention. He turned his head, every sense on alert.

Bram, Livia cautioned.

Shapes detached from the shadows. Large forms, nearly the size of his horse. They moved with a loping shuffle, drawing nearer. They made hoarse, guttural sounds.

Something huge and heavy collided with Bram.

He flew off his horse, landing hard on the ground. He lost his breath and his head collided with the earth. But he couldn’t pause to catch his wind or settle his spinning head. A beast was on top of him, its skin reeking of sulfur, and as it shrieked, hot, rotten air poured over him.

Dimly, he heard his horse’s panicked whinny, and its hooves beating a retreat.

A cloud peeled away from the moon to reveal the creature.

It had eyes as huge as saucers, glassy and yellow, and slits for nostrils. Three mouths ringed its head, all of them full of serrated black teeth. Its humanoid body was covered in greasy amphibious skin that flung off slime.

Never had he beheld anything as foul. The other Hellraisers had talked of battling demons, and John had promised armies of them, yet this was the first Bram ever saw such a creature at such close range. Sickness coiled in his belly. If this thing was a harbinger of what was to come . . .

The beast recoiled suddenly, leaping off Bram and scuttling back. Slowly, cautiously, Bram got to his feet.

The demon stared at him and hunched low. Its posture reminded him of a dog ceding dominance, and when it whined at him, he understood.

It doesn’t know I’ve turned against the Devil. It thinks I’m still an ally.

The rest of them hesitate.

I still do not see John.

Bram glared into the darkness. Nor do I. He sent these creatures to do his filthy work.

Other demons massed, yet they hung back, watching him with vitreous eyes. The creature that had leapt upon Bram gazed at him, then at the house, tilting its head in question.

Even if John wasn’t there, at the least, Bram could try to avert an attack on the cabal.

“Go,” Bram commanded. He pointed away from Camden House.

The demon did not move.

“Away from this place!”

His commands were met only with more rasping sounds, and taloned feet shuffling in the dirt. The beast glanced toward the house and growled.

Cursed things won’t listen to me.

We’ll have to keep going. If John sent these things, then we must get to the men inside and protect them.

Bram took a step in the direction of Camden House. Then another.

The demon moved as he moved, keeping pace. It scraped out a questioning sound.

He kept walking, his stride lengthening. As he did, the other creatures loped along, keeping a distance between themselves and Bram. If demons could look baffled, these beasts did. They could not understand what he intended.

The creatures growled in agitation the closer he got to the house. Only a hundred feet to go.

He felt the demons’ rising anger. They snarled as he quickened his pace.

Time to run, Livia urged.

He did.

A demon attacked. It launched itself at him, throwing its arms around his torso and dragging him to the ground.

He grappled with the heavy beast, battling to keep its long claws from tearing open his face. Snarling, he gripped its wrists, and fought to wedge his boot against the thing’s abdomen. At last, he managed to plant his heel in the creature’s stomach, and, letting go of its wrists, shoved.

The monster stumbled back. Bram leapt to his feet and drew his sword with one motion. He didn’t give the demon a chance to rush him. He ran his sword straight through the beast’s throat. Its shriek turned to a wet gurgle as he pulled the blade free. Dark, sticky blood shot from the demon’s neck and into the dirt.

Bram waited just long enough to watch it fall to the ground before whirling around. A dozen of the creatures bounded toward the manor house.

He charged in pursuit.

Livia flickered into being beside him. She glared at the demons, then at her hands.

“I haven’t enough power to fight them. We’ll need to join magic so I can work spells.”

“Can’t really help you right now,” he said through gritted teeth. The demons were not very fast, and he shortened the distance between them. Less than a hundred feet stood between the creatures and the house.

“You can’t take those things on completely alone!”

“No choice but to try.”

The demons shrieked at his approach. With a burst of speed, he flung himself into battle.

Livia seethed with frustration as she could only watch Bram throw himself into the fight. Her magic was barely a flicker within, and her body was aught but vapor. No threat to these minions of the Dark One. All she could do was dart in between the creatures, distracting them, as Bram launched his attack.

She struggled to do her part, but her attention continually turned to Bram. She had witnessed him practice and spar, had seen his memories of combat, but not until now did she truly behold him in the midst of battle.

He moved like lightning, like death and beauty. Swift and lethal. He spun and wove around the demons, his blade forming arcs of silver, whistling through the air and cleaving into the creatures’ flesh. His long coat flew out behind him like dark wings. No hesitation in his movement, no fear or moments of indecision. He was war itself.

The demons massed around him and fell back as he struck. They hissed in fury, eyes and claws gleaming in the moonlight.

Livia swirled herself around them, deflecting their attention. “Come and kill me, you toads,” she taunted in her own language.

She did not flinch as their talons raked through her, nor when they shrilled with frustration that she could not be wounded. These demons were not especially intelligent, but she knew them to be relentless. She continued her distraction, hoping to keep their awareness divided between her and Bram. Able soldier he might be, but he was one man, far outnumbered.

Yet, as Bram fought, she felt a strange energy gathering within her. An expanding brightness, as though her magic grew, coalescing into the form of the key. What was its origin? Its strength filled her in glimmering waves. She became stronger, potent, her translucent figure gaining in brilliance.

A demon rushed at her. She spun, throwing out one of her hands in the instinctive gesture of attack. White energy shot from her palm. The demon was thrown backward. It landed on its back, sprawled, a smoking crater in the center of its chest. Huge glassy eyes stared up at the night sky, unblinking. The beast was dead.

Livia stared at her hand. She had used the Lightning Strike of Jove—an attack she had employed countless times in the past. Her magic had been cleaved apart since she and Bram were bound together. Yet now she felt the full strength of it. How?

More gleaming light drew her attention. The demons? No—Bram. As he battled the creatures, energy gathered around him in a bright mantle. Each strike of his sword, each parry and counter-offensive, the energy glowed brighter. She stared in amazement.

His expertise as a warrior roused the magic within him, building it to greater strength. Its power surged in their shared connection. Like a tide of fire, it rose within her.