“Nothing you can offer me is more valuable than her. Trust me. No deal.” He pulled a mace from his belt. “But I will kill you for trespassing.”
Lincoln didn’t look fazed, as he reached behind his back, and produced another weapon. That one was extraordinarily larger and shinier. It radiated a certain power, and when Burdock’s smoke neared it, it fled, as if in fear.
“I present Archangel Michael’s sword. Freely given to the winner of this fight.” He laid the sword on the ground, the black smoke chasing away from it.
Burdock stood there, in absolute shock, eyeing the weapon with the greediest gaze I’d ever seen. “So, I kill you, and I get the sword and the girl?”
Lincoln nodded, holding out a glowing scroll of parchment paper.
“Signed with the blessing of the fallen angels themselves. All four of them.” Lincoln tossed the scroll on the ground.
Burdock grinned then clapped, a red glowing scroll appearing in his hand. “I accept.” He tossed it to the center, where the sword and other scroll lay.
Lincoln nodded. “Brielle is my witness. Call yours.”
Burdock chortled, showing his razor-sharp blackened teeth. “He’s on his way. Outside. I’ll draw the perimeter.”
Add mental communication to his powers. Oh God.
Lincoln backed through the doors without ever turning his back to Burdock. I did the same. Michael’s sword and the two parchments remained on the floor of the reanimation clinic.
“Kate, watch the collateral. If anything happens to it, I’ll kill you,” he told my mother.
She nodded and scurried forward, picking up the three items.
My mother and I shared a look through the glass door. A look that said everything. She wanted this for me. I wanted this for me. I didn’t know what it meant for her and Mikey though, and that had me apprehensive.
Turning to face Burdock, I saw his witness had indeed arrived. He’d called Shea’s boss, Master Grim. And Shea was in the driver seat next to him. Lincoln was sweating a little, clearly weakening with each moment he spent in the city.
The second Shea’s boss exited the car, Burdock pointed to him.
“You are witness. If I die, this young man gets to leave with Brielle and the sword, and her contract is absolved.”
Grim nodded, looking Lincoln up and down like he was a meal. Then he spat on the ground, the sidewalk steaming where the spittle hit it.
“If I kill him, which I will, I get Archangel Michael’s sword, and get to keep Brielle and her contract. Is that correct, boy?” he asked.
Lincoln nodded and stepped into the parking lot. “Let’s do this.”
Burdock grinned. “Gladly.”
Moving forward, he then bent over, spewing black fire onto the concrete. It chased along the parking lot, drawing a perimeter in a perfect circle around Lincoln and himself. The flames danced about two feet high, and reeked of brimstone, the acidic sulfur burning my nostrils.
Holy end of days. Lincoln’s going to die.
“That’s hellfire, son, so unless you want to meet the Prince of Darkness, I suggest you don’t touch it,” Burdock growled.
My eyes widened. The fire is a portal to Lucifer?
Lincoln glared at Burdock and flexed, popping out his glorious white wings. They stretched in close to a fifteen-foot span, and he flapped them up and down really hard, blowing out half of the hellfire circle.
“You don’t scare me, old man,” Lincoln spat.
Oh shit.
Burdock was a blur of motion. Like a freaking vampire, he was there one second and then standing before Lincoln the next. He swung his mace out and connected with Lincoln’s chest, knocking into his armor and tearing his shirt.
The breath rushed out of Lincoln, but he held steady and used the close proximity to lunge at Burdock with his sword. The Celestial was able to nick his arm before the demon moved away.
I’d forgotten to tell him Burdock was superfast. Oops.
Burdock swung out with his right arm, intending to clip Lincoln in the face, but the Celestial pumped his wings and shot up into the air, hovering above the demon, out of his grasp. That enraged Burdock, who spewed orange flames from his mouth, without warning, catching the tips of Lincoln’s wings. Lincoln panicked, flying higher into the sky, flapping his wings faster and faster in an effort to douse the flames. I chewed my nails as I watched everything go down, wondering how the hell all of this had happened so fast.
The fire sputtered out and then Lincoln suddenly let go. He tucked his wings in, right above Burdock, so he dropped like a hundred and fifty-pound weight, fast and hard. He landed on top of the tall demon, taking him to the ground, and with one hard slash of the sword, hacked Burdock’s left horn off.
“Kill this fool!” Shea’s boss roared.
Black smoke burst from the gaping hole where the horn was, and Lincoln started to cough. The smoke covered their bodies, hiding them from view, until all I could hear was grunting, and the clanging of metal against metal.
My startled gaze found Shea across the lot, looking completely shocked and confused. Her slack jaw and death mark tattoo had a thought forming in my mind. A crazy thought. A thought that could get me killed.
Suddenly, a bright blue light rose above the black smoke, and then Lincoln was flying out of it with Burdock in his arms. My master was hornless, bleeding, and freaking enraged. He shouted in anger as Lincoln flew them higher and higher.
Then he dropped Master Burdock.
From fifty feet up.
The demon screamed the entire way down, spewing fire and smoke as he fell. When he crashed into the parking lot, pavement caved in like a crater, and chipped up at the edges. His legs had to have been broken, but he didn’t seem to care. He pulled a dagger from his boot, and as Lincoln sped toward him, sword outstretched, the demon flung the dagger straight at him. I screamed, but it was no use. It sailed through the space between them and sank into Lincoln’s thigh. With a painful roar, the Celestial dropped clumsily the last few feet and landed awkwardly, snapping his ankle. I could hear the crack of bone from where I stood.
I winced, stepping forward to help in some way, when my mom pulled me back. “No interference or it voids the whole thing. He’s got this.”
I wanted to protest, to run in there and help, but she was right. It was probably against the rules, and he was so close. It looked like he really had a chance.
I could be free.
Lincoln and Burdock were staring at each other, both bleeding and broken. Lincoln took a calming breath and then opened his eyes. They were an eerie blue, and glowing.
“Back to Hell with you, demon!” he roared and then swung his sword. Burdock swung his mace in circles around his head, and then, just as Lincoln got close, he let go, intending for the mace to smack Lincoln in the face. Lincoln raised his sword, and a blinding blue light shot out, sending the mace to the ground, and shattering it into a hundred pieces.
Whoa.
You could see it on Burdock’s face, the moment when he knew he had lost. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lincoln came down sideways with his sword, and took the demon’s head clean off before he could utter a word.
Holy freaking shit. Burdock’s dead.
The glowing red contract in my mom’s hands puffed to ash, and we both gasped.
I was free. I was a free soul.
Tears slid down my mom’s face, and I wanted to enjoy the moment with her. It was everything I’d wanted, to be free of this shithole, everything my mother wanted for my life as well, but I couldn’t enjoy it. Not with my best friend standing across the way, death mark on her arm, dark circles around her eyes and bruises on her face. Tainted Academy was going to break her. Her strong, beautiful spirit was fading day by day, and I’d made a promise to never let that happen. I wouldn’t let her go dark.
“Your slave mark is gone,” my mom said, mystified.
I rubbed my forehead in shock.
Lincoln is so going to kill me.