Page 81 of Court of Heathens

I will not let her down. I have spent the last twenty something years of my life protecting her, and I will continue to do so until the day she dies and I make a deal with another demon to kill me to join her.

Today is not our end—it’s our beginning. I will ensure that.

Something slides through my side, and I turn, lava pouring from my hand and burning them to a crisp as the darkness seems to intensify. I can feel she’s close to him, and he knows it.

He is waiting.

My eyes turn to the skyscraper, and I send up a prayer to the gods I never wanted to depend on, begging them to keep her safe.

We cannot help her now. It’s all up to her.

CHAPTER 43

The lobby is empty, the marble floor shiny and polished. I pass the reception desk and walk through the open scanners to the elevator bank. They flash random numbers, and there are arrows drawn crudely on the silver fronts, pointing to a door farther down. I follow the banks, finding more arrows that point the way

The white door has its own message, written in blood.

“Not creepy at all,” I mutter, then I grip the handle and twist. The door opens easily, and no alarm blares despite the emergency only sign. I step through then jump when it slams shut behind me. Swallowing hard, I glance up with a groan.

Floor after floor of stairs stretch above me, but when my eyes land on the bodies lining each step, I swallow. Okay, super creepy.

Pressed against the walls are zombies. They are all smiling, and when I place my foot on the first step with a creature, its voicereaches me.

“Welcome home.”

Shaking my head, I start to climb, each zombie repeating the greeting until I’m practically running. Their voices fill the air like a promise, and there are so many of them, I want to cover my ears.

I grip the banister and run, sweat trickling down my temples by the time I’m ten floors up.

I was not made for this sort of exercise. I was made for naps, cocks, and magic.

Magic . . .

I hesitate, but honestly, I don’t think I can climb these and stop him before the world ends. I mean, maybe that was his plan all along, make me late by forcing me to climb a billion stairs. Gripping the banister, I lean out and look up, seeing tons more.

I grip the railing as the building shakes with Sha’s angry roar, and I send up a prayer, hoping he’s okay.

Yeah, fuck climbing these stairs.

I’m not just a human, and despite the zombies here, I reach for my magic.

I’m a fucking necromancer, a goddamn witch, and it’s about time I started acting like one.

I conjure a portal and step inside. I find myself at least ten floors up, so I do it again and again until I’m standing on the last landing. Looking down, I see how many floors I travelled and smirk. Turning back, I take a deep breath at the closed double doors. The keypad at the side is broken, the alarm cut at the top.

Refusing to hesitate, I open it and step out onto the roof. It shuts behind me, announcing my arrival, but he does not turn from where he stands in the middle, facing the city beyond. I see Phrixius fly past, and I hear them fighting below. I want to look, but I keep my eyes on his back, knowing he’s the most dangerous thing here.

The mask he stole lies at his feet, broken into a million pieces.

Taking another step, I call out, “Stop this.”

“It cannot be stopped.” He turns to me, his face carved with a welcoming smile. “I have been waiting for you.”

“I know.” I take another step. “But it’s never too late. Let them go, let’s end this.”

“You wish to end this? You know how.” He tilts his head, watching me. “But you do not have it in you. Despite it all, you’re not a killer. You are weak—not quite a witch, not quite a necromancer. You are caught in between, a child hiding from the dark. Can’t you see the dark is not to be feared, but embraced? Without it, you are nothing. You are not fighting me, you are fighting yourself, and you will never win. You are weak!” he roars before he breathes out and glances around. “I did all of this without even feeling drained. Could you?”

“Why would I want to?” I ask. “Look at the destruction?—”

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