Page 96 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
“Zeke?” I whisper.
Some distant part of me shouts a warning. This is Asmodeus we’re talking about. The demon of lust and gambling and games. This is a sick joke. He’s playing with me. I should run—get into the church. Find the crypt entrance. Kill the son of a bitch.
But when Zeke’s lips move, and all I hear is his confession through my warbled hearing, I can’t move.
“It’s true,” he says. “The prophecy says it’s more than our teams working together. We’re fated to be together. In love.”
“You lied to me.”
He reaches out, but I step back, shaking my head.He lied.
Loud thunder cracks, splitting the sky. But there are no clouds over us. Asmodeus grins as he looks behind me. It wasn’t thunder but a widening crack in the gates of hell.
Flauros is gone. Puck is Puck again, blinking at us with confusion. But a red line has sliced straight down the center of his face. Blood seeps out. The line widens to reveal his internal musculature and bone. Flauros crawls out of Puck’s splitting body like a monster being born.
The fully manifested Flauros eyes me like I’m dinner.
Zeke stares at me with a look that installs fear into my soul. Not because he’s gloating or he hates me or anything else. But because I see sacrifice. I see love. He opens his mouth but then shuts it. No words. He just launches at the demon with all his might, tackles him around the midsection, and keeps pushing until they stumble back to the hill’s edge.
“Zeke!” I scream as they disappear over the side.
I run after him, barely stopping in time to avoid toppling too. My worst nightmare unfolds. Zeke and Flauros are locked together as they roll down the steep decline, hitting boulders and sharp rocks like rag dolls. Little fires catch and smolder. A leopard’s tail whips about. Within moments they come to a rest on the road between the two wreckages, unmoving. Zeke’s leg is twisted at an odd angle. My eyes blur. My throat clogs. He must have left the protection patch behind as well.
“What a shame,” Asmodeus croons behind me. Then adds jauntily, “Oh well.”
I spin and snarl at him. “You think you’ve won, but you’ve been played. Lilith had that demon doing her bidding for years while you were imprisoned. She planted him in your entourage to manipulate you. She’s been moving you around like a pawn in her own private game of chess. You can’t even see that you’re a puppet.Weak.” I spit on the grass. “You’ve been so caught up in your macho revenge ploy that you’ve failed to see the worst truth of all.”
His intelligent eyes blaze with fury. Despite my words, he’s not weak. He knows it. But he can’t resist asking, “And what’s that?”
“She probably orchestrated your imprisonment in the first place. How else did she know about Tobit?”
We all know the story. It was in the Bible. But I knew something had to be off for Asmodeus to look so confused, dazed, and suspicious at that line. A flicker of recognition in his eyes means I’m right. He’s only now putting the puzzle pieces together.
I cackle like a madwoman and continue taunting him. I don’t care. He can rip out my heart for all I care. It’s dead now, anyway.
“You were her puppet no matter what you chose to do when you escaped prison—hell, you only escaped because it was part of her plan.” I wield the special bullet from my pocket like a shield. “This is the only bullet left in the world that will work with that gun to stop you. You could get to the relic before me, but it won’t matter. It’s worthless without this bullet. Lilith knew our chances were slim. She used you to grow the divide between Zeke and me. To grow the cracks. You’re apawn.”
His eyes darken. I feel the shadows drawing nearer. But still, he doesn’t speak.
“So long as Flauros is in this realm,” I snarl contemptuously, “fully manifested like you, your power is threatened. Who knows how strong he’s grown while you’ve been stuck in a rock.”
Asmodeus’s upper lip curls. I see my death in his eyes. But it’s not my death he envisions. Great demonic wings tear from his back. Horns sprout from his head. Muscles swell in his Italian suit, ripping the seams with their girth. He takes to the sky, breathing fire from his mouth like a dragon. He swoops over the hill’s edge, sights his prey, and dives.
Zeke.
I run down the path to Zeke. My clumsy boots slip. I almost lose my balance but steady myself with my hands, grazing my palms. I keep going, but sobs wrack my chest. My body won’t work in my grief. I’m taking too long. But I try to keep Zeke’s body in my line of sight. Even if he’s dead, I won’t let Asmodeus ruin him. Fuck my stupid temper. Zeke loved it. He loved when I let it out. Called me his wildcat. But now it’s going to ruin everything.
I’ll never hear another stupid reference about being Doc Holliday. I’ll never hear his voice.
My vision blurs with each stumble. Flames burst at the base of the hill, but I’m too teary to see straight. I wipe my eyes and skid to a screaming stop on the road. Asmodeus stands over Flauros like a god of vengeance, breathing fire over the impudent feline demon. I wince and shield my face from the scorching heat. When Flauros tries to escape, Asmodeus effortlessly pins him to the ground with his taloned hands, grinning at his prey’s useless thrashing.
“Leila.” Zeke’s croaky voice is the hand of God turning my head.
A sob bursts from my chest when I see him sitting against the truck’s crushed cabin. While I was too teary to see, he must have crawled toward the truck, away from the dueling demons. His bloody hands grope for his guns, but his leg still sticks out awkwardly. I go to my man, fall to my knees, and take his face between my hands.
“You bastard.”
“I prefer Huck.”
