Bloodstone

“I never did find Pryce,” Mab said. “Not in that lifetime, though I searched far and wide. Myrddin had fostered the boy with a human family. After several years and many rumors, I discovered the family’s name. But when I traveled to them, I learned that Pryce had murdered them all and run away. The boy wasn’t yet ten years old. And so it went for many years. Pryce left a long trail of death and destruction, but I was always a step or two behind him.”

“So how did we get so lucky to have him in our lives?”

“Eventually, he found me. He came to Maenllyd, called me ‘auntie,’ and told me he wouldn’t rest until he’d destroyed everything I love—and finally me.”

I WANTED TO LET MAB REST, BUT SHE INSISTED SHE HAD more to say. “Let me speak now, child, while my memories give me strength. I know how you can kill Myrddin.”

I sat up and paid attention at that. After what he’d done to Mab, I wanted to kill him three times over—a triple death for real this time.

“Myrddin is not immortal. We know that.”

“But he might as well be, the way he can zip in and out of the demon plane.”

“There is no ‘might as well be’ when it comes to immortality.” She rubbed the withered flesh of her arm. “Think back to last night, child. How did Myrddin react when you shot him?”

“He shifted to his demon form.”

“Yes. Why did he not simply exit to the demon plane and return, as he did when he fooled Colwyn with the triple death?”

I pictured last night’s scene. I remembered firing, the black blood flowing from the wounds, the demon growing. “Because the bullets were bronze?”

“Precisely. The bronze prevented Myrddin from entering the demon plane in his human form to heal. Before he could slip away into that plane, he had to take on his demon form. Only in that state could he exit to the demon plane and heal his wounds there.”

“Why?”

“I believe it’s because of the way he merged those two forms: demon within the human and human within the demon. It’s made his human form vulnerable to bronze in a way other demi-demons are not.”

I thought about the legend of the triple death. None of those fake deaths—falling, impalement, and drowning—had involved any bronze implements. “So I can use bronze to force Myrddin to change to his demon form . . .”

“And then you can kill the demon, just as you did with Pryce. With his demon half dead, Myrddin will be as mortal as any human.”

I stood up. “I’ll need the Sword of Saint Michael.” Saint Michael was the enemy of all demons, and the bronze-bladed sword bearing his name, a weapon my family had owned for centuries, would shimmer with celestial flame in battle. It was the surest way to kill a powerful demon. And I couldn’t wait to for Myrddin Wyllt to feel its bite.

29

I WANTED TO DO A TRIAL RUN, SLIPPING OUT OF DEADTOWN and getting into position at Boylston Street, before we had to do it for real. The sun had set on Deadtown an hour ago, so the containment order was now in force. We still had several hours left before curfew. Now was the time to give our plan a try.

I called Tina and asked her to come over and stay with Mab. She let out a whoop of excitement before she cleared her throat and tallied up another favor I owed her, so I didn’t think I was inconveniencing her too much. Then I called Clyde and told him I was expecting her, so he wouldn’t get too apoplectic when she breezed past his desk.

Next, weapons. To make the trial run as close to the real thing as possible, I needed to arm myself the way I planned to be armed tomorrow night. I unlocked my weapons cabinet and made my selections. I strapped on a double shoulder holster and filled it with pistols: bronze bullets on the right, silver on the left. Two thigh sheaths held daggers: I stuck with the pattern of bronze on the right and silver on the left. I slid a silver throwing knife into each boot. Last, I strapped on a vertical back sheath designed for the Sword of Saint Michael. It held the sword straight up-and-down, the hilt behind my neck. To draw it, I just had to reach back, grab the hilt, and pull the sword up and out in an arc, I practiced a couple of times.

A knock sounded on the door. “Just a minute!” I called. I took a coat from my closet—the coat was leather and midcalf length, with a hood—and pulled it on. I flipped up the hood to hide the hilt of my sword. Then I answered the door.

Tina came in, carrying a thermos. “Chicken soup,” she said. “For your aunt. My mom used to make it for me when I got sick.”

I took the thermos. “Feels kind of light.”

“I only had a little, to make sure it tasted okay.” I set the thermos on the coffee table as she made a beeline for the kitchen. “Did you get a chance to buy more ice cream? Because—” She stopped and spun on her heel, gawking at me. “What are you wearing?”

“My coat. I’m taking Killer out again.”

“No, no, no. You can’t wear that. You look like Little Goth Riding Hood.” She came over, examining me.

“The coat is fine. I’m going—”

“Well, at least don’t pull the hood up like that. Here . . .” She yanked on the hood, pulling it down and exposing the hilt of my sword. Her eyes grew wider. “You’re carrying a sword to walk your dog?” Her hand flashed out, and she pulled my coat half off my shoulder. “Oh my God, you are totally armed. Where are you really going? To fight some demons?”

No need to tell Tina I was sneaking out of Deadtown in violation of the containment order. “Yeah, that’s right. I’ve got a quick demon extermination to take care of. I’ll be back before curfew.”

I headed for the door. Tina stepped in front of me.

“What kind? I’ve been studying. Go ahead—quiz me.”

“Um, Harpies. I don’t have time to quiz you now.” I pulled my hood back up.

“Harpies, really?” She wrinkled her nose. “Those weapons are, like, total overkill for fighting revenge demons. What are you going to do with that big sword, shish-kebab them?” She lifted the side of my coat. I slapped it back down. And you’re carrying silver, too—what’s that supposed to do against Harpies?”

What a time for Tina to get all smart about demon fighting.

“Gotta go,” I said. “Come on, Killer.” I opened the door. Kane, wearing Roxana’s charm, shot out from wherever he’d been hiding and ran to the hall. I was right behind him.

“You’re taking your dog on a demon extermination? What—?”

I shut the door on her incredulous face.

There’s a saying that a little learning is a dangerous thing. But who’d have thought that Tina’s little bit of learning about demons would be so dangerous to my sanity?

DEADTOWN’S STREETS WERE CROWDED. NOT ONLY HAD every single resident returned to Designated Area 1, they all seemed to be rushing to get groceries and light bulbs and beer and whatever other emergency supplies they thought they’d need before curfew confined them to their homes.

We pushed through the crowds and made our way to the side street where Kane’s network of secret tunnels began. There were so many people around, I thought I’d never get a chance to pull open the bulkhead door and slip inside. Kane sat on the ground, and I lounged against the wall, trying to look nonchalant. Of course, since everyone else was out running errands, standing still made me stick out as much as a huge boulder in the middle of a rushing stream. Zombies shot curious glances my way as they passed.

One man stopped in his tracks as he came even with us. He turned his head sharply, nostrils flaring. Uh-oh. Werewolf. And he smelled Kane. A charm wouldn’t disguise his scent to one of his own kind.