I gasped and squinted against the blinding light. A figure engulfed in flames stepped into view, arms outstretched as if welcoming us.
El Diablo.
Chapter 28
EL DIABLO DREW NEARER to us, and just behind him stood Kismet, her brows creased with uncertainty, and an unreadable expression on her face.
A ripple of fear washed over me followed quickly by anger and adrenaline. I drew my athame and shouted in fury before sprinting toward the fiery demon, ignoring Oliver’s protests.
El Diablo raised a hand, but I ducked and sliced into his leg. A jet of flame singed the top of my hair, and heat scorched my hand as I clutched the athame.
El Diablo hissed in pain, sparks flying from his mouth and burning my skin.
His blood dripped from my blade. That was all I needed.
“Oliver!” I screamed, dodging another ball of fire. I glanced over my shoulder at Oliver, and he tossed the potion to me.
I scrambled to catch it. The bottle fumbled in my fingers, and it smashed to the ground next to me.
My heart sank, until I remembered: I wanted the bottle to break.
An eerie green mist floated into the air, swirling and churning with magic. It mingled with the smoke, creating a sickening gray fume that covered El Diablo like a curtain.
My chin lifted in triumph, and I said loudly,
“Vile demon of the third estate,
With this potion I—”
A searing hot pain pushed against my throat, cutting off my words. Thick fingers wrapped around my neck as El Diablo choked me with his fiery hands. The flames licked my skin, piercing through me until my whole body felt like it was on fire. My lungs screamed for release. My shoulders shuddered from my fruitless attempts to breathe. Orange flames danced in my eyes and stung my skin.
“Desi!”
Pain. Pain everywhere.
I saw nothing but fire.
I felt nothing but agony.
Then I blacked out.
“DESI, I NEED YOU TO sit down,” Kismet said.
I frowned and sank onto the dining room chair. The devastation in Kismet’s face made my stomach squirm. “What is it?”
“Your mom, she . . .” Kismet trailed off, her lower lip trembling. “When she went to rescue your dad . . .” She broke off, her face crumpling.
And then I knew.
“No,” I whispered. My stomach dropped to my knees.
Tears spilled from Kismet’s eyes. “Levarret, he . . .” She choked on the words.
Something shattered within me. “No,” I said again, my voice hollow.
Kismet nodded, her lips spread wide as she tried to hold back tears. “I’m s-sorry, Desi.”
“No!” I shouted, jumping to my feet. “No, they—they were Hunters! They were trained for this!”
“It was a t-trap,” Kismet said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “He used your father to lure the coven out. Your parents gave their lives to s-save the coven. They—they are heroes, Desi.”
“I don’t want them to be heroes!” I screamed. “I want them to be here!”
Chains clinked and rattled, jolting me from my nightmare. Darkness pressed in on me. My stomach churned as my surroundings swayed. Loud metal groaned, and muffled shouts echoed through the walls.
My body shifted, and pain exploded in my neck and shoulders. The smell of charred flesh stung my nostrils.
I opened my eyes and only saw darkness. The floor tilted underneath me until I was certain I’d fall over. I scrambled, trying to stand, but the clang of metal rang in my ears, and something pulled at my wrists.
Something horribly familiar.
I squinted at my hands and found each wrist cuffed and attached to a long chain leading to the wall. Instead of being splayed and primed for torture like before, I was crouched on the dirty floor of a dark, stuffy room. Heat swirled around me like I was in a furnace. Chains encircled my ankles as well. I peeled my stiff and sticky curls from my face, grateful my wrist chains weren’t connected so I could still move my arms freely.
“Desi,” a voice breathed beside me.
I turned and found a dark shape huddled against the wall, just a few feet away from me. I couldn’t make out his features, but I knew that voice.
Oliver.
I pulled at my chains. There was just enough slack for me to crawl along the floor toward him. As I drew nearer, I made out his disheveled hair and beaten appearance. Blackened soot was smeared across his cheeks. One of his sleeves had completely ripped off, exposing his cut, which oozed fresh blood.
“Where are we?” My voice was barely a croak, and my throat burned with each word I spoke.
“My guess? Aboard one of the warships.” Oliver’s tone was grim. In the darkness, I barely made out the tilt of his head as he gazed upward toward the pounding of footsteps. “The question is, which one?”
My heart clenched and my eyes darted around frantically. A Spanish or American vessel? And why are we on a ship? Is El Diablo hoping to send us off to some remote island?
“Are you all right?” Oliver asked as he wriggled toward me, his voice pained. The clatter of metal indicated he was chained, too.
I tried to laugh wryly, but my throat protested, and I coughed so deeply I sounded like a chain-smoker.
“Lilith,” Oliver whispered. He was now close enough that the heat from his body warmed my arms. “He could’ve killed you.”
“He will kill me,” I said hoarsely, my throat throbbing. “He’ll kill both of us.”
Oliver said nothing. He knew I was right.
Heavy gunfire erupted above us. The ceiling and floor shook, and metal groaned and crashed from the impact.
I winced and ducked my head, expecting something heavy to fall on me. A loud thump nearby indicated something had fallen over, but Oliver and I remained untouched. The artillery continued pounding bullets, one after another, until the sound streamed together like one long, raging boom.
Oliver froze, cocking his head as if thinking hard. “Rapid fire,” he muttered to himself. The stream of gunfire was punctuated by a few louder booms of artillery. “That sounds like breech-loading rifles.” He exhaled, long and slow.
