yellow mockery of a face. A few scraps of hair jut out of her head. She wears no clothes—the touch of any material would be agony on flesh so pustulent and tender.
The creature points at the helicopter, which has almost completed its descent, and barks a phrase of magic. The blades stutter, then stop. The helicopter shakes wildly, spins around a few times, then plummets several metres shy of the building. It makes a sharp, screaming sound as it drops. Then it hits the ground and there’s an explosion, louder and more brutal than any movie bang ever prepared me for. Glass explodes in all the nearby windows. A giant ball of flame belches up into the sky, turning the evening red. Meera and Kealan are thrown to the floor and the unconscious Dervish slides off his trolley.
Only the woman and I remain standing, using magic to shelter ourselves from the force of the explosion. I sense the shield give way behind me and demons spill on to the roof. But I don’t care about them now. I have a more dangerous foe to contend with.
The most frightening, bewildering thing is, I
“Juni Swan,” the semi-human monster gurgles, bowing with cynical politeness. Her lips move into a jagged line as she straightens—I think it’s meant to be a smile. “Delighted to kill you.”
She flicks a hand at me and the ground at my feet bellows upwards in a pillar of molten, burning tar.
UP ON THE ROOF
Instead of trying to fight the black, scorching geyser, I ride it upwards, using the force of the blast to propel myself high off the roof and clear of the sizzling liquid. My lower legs are spattered and the tar burns through my flesh, but those are minor wounds. I can heal them easily once I’ve dealt with the more pressing dangers.
I land in a crouch, using magic to soften the blow. I don’t take my eyes off the mutated Juni Swan. She’s watching me with a wicked, twisted smirk. Her eyes blaze with a mad hatred. I don’t know how she returned to life—it shouldn’t be possible—but she hasn’t come back cleanly. She’s been reduced to a staggering, seeping carcass of cancerous cells. Her body looks like it’s been eating away at itself for the past six months. The pain of holding it together and clinging to her frail grasp on life must be unendurable. I’m not surprised she’s lost her grip on sanity.
“Little Bec,” she sneers, her words coming thick and syrupy through the wasted vocal cords of her throat. “My master killed you once, but you cheated death, like me. I wonder if you’ll come back again?”
“Who is she?” Sharmila screams, back on her feet, helping Kealan up.
“Juni Swan!” I shout.
“Juni…? You mean
“Not anymore.” Juni gives a sick chuckle, taking a few tottering steps towards us. Fleshy smears from her feet stick to the rooftop. She winces every time she moves. Her body is fragile, but her power is great. She’s stronger than she was in the cave.
Kealan fires three times at Juni. The bullets stop midair, centimetres from her scarred, glutinous face. “Pretty little butterflies,” she murmurs, turning two of the bullets into silvery, swollen insects—but these butterflies have oversized mouths and sharp teeth. She flicks a finger at them and they fly back to their source. I try to deflect them, but I’m too slow. They latch on to Kealan’s eyes and dig in. He screams and collapses, blind within seconds. The butterflies continue chewing through to his brain.
I want to help Kealan, but I dare not turn my gaze away from Juni, even for an instant. She makes the third bullet rotate a few times, then sends it shooting at the middle of Sharmila’s forehead. The old Indian lady redirects it with a short flick of her wrist and the bullet buries itself in the roof.
The demons from the staircase have split to surround Sharmila and me. There are six around me, five around Sharmila. The twelfth—the square-headed demon—bounds over to Kealan and finishes off the unfortunate guard.
“You should have stayed dead,” Juni says, closing on me. The demons are keen to attack, but they’re holding back, wary of Juni Swan. They must be under orders not to strike before she does.
“How’s my broken-hearted boyfriend?” Juni asks, turning her head to study Dervish. She gasps with pain, a chunk of her neck ripping loose. Grimacing, she pushes the fleshy fillet back into place and uses magic to seal it. Part of me feels sorry for her. This is a terrible way for anyone to exist.
“Leave Dervish alone,” Sharmila growls.
“Or what?” Juni jeers.
Sharmila tenses her legs, then leaps over the demons around her. She lands between Juni and Dervish, grabs the trolley, jerks off a side bar and hurls it at Juni, jagged end first. The tip strikes Juni’s gooey face and drives through the rotting flesh and bone. She shrieks, her head snapping back.
Sharmila rips another bar loose to use against the demons who are scurrying after her. She thinks she killed Juni but she’s wrong. As Sharmila turns, Juni yanks out the bar. Bits of yellowy-pink flesh trickle from the hole it leaves behind.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” Juni giggles, launching the bar at Sharmila. It hits her right shoulder, lifts her off her feet and sends her sailing across the roof. She smashes into one of the staircase doors. The bar thrusts through her flesh and deep into the wood, pinning her to the door. She screams in agony, blood pouring from her shoulder and mouth. She tries to wriggle free, but can’t, pinned in place like a captured moth.
I’m truly scared now. It took a lot of power to throw a steel bar that hard. I don’t have anywhere near that kind of strength, not in this world. In a one-on-one battle with Juni Swan, I won’t stand a chance.
Juni fixes her insane, bloodshot eyes on me again. There’s a tiny insect in the corner of one socket, chewing at the rotting flesh of her lower eyelid. “It’s a pity,” she mutters. “I hoped Grubbs would be here. I wanted to kill him at the same time as Dervish.”
“He’ll be here soon,” I lie, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Kernel too. And Beranabus.” Her expression twitches when I mention the name of her old master. “You’d better get out of here before—”
“Billy Spleen was a bad liar,” she cuts me off, “but you’re worse. I wonder if you’ll squeal like he did when I kill you?”
“Bill-E didn’t squeal. I know. I was there.”
“So you were. I forgot.”
A crab-shaped demon with a cat’s face jabbers something and shuffles towards me.
“Not yet,” Juni snarls. “I want to torture her first.”
The crab snaps at her and she scowls. “I don’t care what he said. I…” A look of disgust crosses her face. “No. You’re right. We’ll kill them and get out of here. But not before we’ve had some sport.” She waves at Sharmila. “The Disciple is yours, along with the humans below. Leave the girl and Dervish to me.”
The demons peel away. Three of them—the fastest—converge on Sharmila and set to work on her legs, gobbling the flesh of her feet and shins, pausing only to dance diabolically to the rhythm of her tormented screams. The square-headed demon is still feasting on the remains of Kealan. The rest barrel down the stairs, back into the bowels of the hospital.
Juni smiles horribly. “Alone at last,” she wheezes.
I say nothing, backing away slowly, trying to think of a way out of this. Down the wall and through the window on the first floor? But Lord Loss is probably waiting on the other side. I’m surprised he didn’t cross with Juni. Maybe he wasn’t sure who he’d find and didn’t like the prospect of a run-in with Beranabus.
“I won’t kill you immediately,” Juni says, edging after me, leaving a trail of slime-like, bubbling flesh, blood and pus behind. “I’ll keep you alive a while, like Sharmila.” She points at the wailing woman. The monsters have stripped the flesh from her bones beneath the knees and are slowly moving up her thighs. Sharmila should have fainted by now. They must be keeping her conscious with magic.
“I’ll kill you,” I sob.
