And tighten is so tight that he can't get away.
"No!" He rages, fights, tries to get his hand out of my grip. "You stupid fucking bitch, you don't know what's on the other side of that gate."
"I do," I tell him simply, "and I'm going to make sure you never get back out again."
As soon as it widens enough I slip through the open crack of the door, pulling him behind me with a yank of my shoulder. Not stopping to look at what's on the other side—it's Hell, so it can't be good—I twist around, face the other end of the door, dip my free fingers into the blood dripping from my wounded palm, and quickly paint a rune on the back of the door.
Enjoin what was once separated.
That's what the rune Auerbach gave me means. I don't know why or how, but it takes these two doors and pushes them together. Somehow that'll make it possible for the door to be closed—and it'll prevent it from opening any further. As soon as the rune is locked into place, the door ceases to open, stopping in its half-open state. I feel a shiver in the wood, and glance through the opening to see wards on the other side.
Good. Auerbach has set down his spells. The campus will be protected. Nothing big enough to tear it apart will get through the door now—and that includes Ezriel.
Whose fingers are digging into the cut on my palm so hard that I wince, letting go of the connection, and pull us apart. He snarls at me; I back up, suddenly afraid, wondering what I've done.
At least I only sacrificed myself.
No one else got hurt.
As the thought goes through me, though, I feel something rise up inside me. An undeniable connection. One I created when I was a frightened, newborn phoenix, unable to control my powers. One that irrevocably connected my soul to three others.
Blue energy pours out of my hands. It turns my eyes blue; I can tell because the part of Hell we're in—a dark part of Hell, full of only the smell of sulphur and distant sound of slobbering beasts—becomes tinged with blue. And over my shoulders, several feet wide and burning impossibly hot, two blue wings of fire unfurl.
Within me, the connection to my familiars shivers. Shakes. And yanks at the open door, pulling it wide for a brief moment.
Racing through come three familiar figures: Reggie in thorn-torn clothing, Xavier with his glasses in one hand, and a naked, distraught-looking David, who lost his clothes to his shifting.
As soon as they're through the door slams most of the way shut again, save for the tiny crack created by Ezriel's spell.
The trickster demon, meanwhile, is in quite a state. Snarling in anger, he's grown two horns from his head. Red-hot energy blazes from his fingers, and I can sense somehow that he's calling out to other demons in the darkness, raising a horde of his own.
"You'll pay for this," he vows, as my familiars come to stand beside me, and I hate myself for how glad I am to not be alone anymore—even though it means I dragged them to Hell with me. "As soon as I'm done with you, you're going to wish you've never been born. Your penises will be flat and useless. Your wings cut off. Every organ in your body will be on the—"
He doesn't get to finish his train of thought.
Behind him, a demon ten feet tall with long knives for hands and a dozen legs roars and cuts his head off.
Then severs his body into little pieces.
Slices and dices it until it's nothing but meat and blood.
And turns its eyes on the four of us.
"Run!" I scream, turning and casting my blue magic out, creating a path through the darkness. "With me, now!"
The guys don't need any convincing. As my feral magic creates a trail for us, bright blue and strange in the darkness, we run straight through Hell—and away from the demon that just eviscerated what I thought was the worst, most evil thing I'd ever meet.
Welcome to Hell, Ari Wolfe.