XXXXII

S tella's head hurt, though it was an understatement to the pounding happening inside her skull. Her eyes cracked open, the simple movement an achingly painful task as her eyes took their time focusing.

"You're awake," Layla commented. "That's good. I worried I hit you too hard. Or maybe in the wrong place. I didn't want to kill you. Not yet."

Stella made to respond, but her mouth wouldn't open. Couldn't. Muffled words tried to make their way past her lips without success.

"I didn't want you to scream. Or do that thing you did in the hall."

Layla's voice sounded almost dreamy from behind her. Her footsteps sounded softly as they approached. Stella's eyes wheeled around the room, panic taking a firmer hold of her as she realized where she was.

The golden banners. The blazing candelabras. She was in the sacrifice room.

Stella quickly looked over herself. Tape bound her wrists and ankles in front of her, and another piece wrapped its way around her head covering her mouth. Stella gave a muffled shout and felt the tiniest bit of movement from her wig.

Then Layla's feet were in view. She crouched down. There was a hunger in her eyes that was borderline maniacal as she apprised Stella.

"Did Raphael tell you if a demon goes too long without gaining their horns, they die? I should have died years ago," Layla said, her mania losing some of its edge as a hollowness crept into her expression. "It's because I'm different. Because we're different. But I can feel it creeping up on me now. Do you know I've tried everything to get them to come?" Layla's eyes shuttered closed, and a tear trailed down her cheek, followed by another. "Nothing I've done has been good enough, and I then realized… I realized if I ever wanted to become a real demon I needed to do something bigger."

Her lashes fluttered open, dark and wet, and formed into little spikes from her tears. She sniffled and smiled sadly, reaching out halfway to Stella with a look she could only describe as demented. Her fingers wiped away Stella's own tears.

"Kat agreed, and so, she helped me set all my pieces in place so they could fall just where I needed them to." Layla smiled at her and stood. She gestured to where Stella lay almost proudly, and that's when Stella took in the rest of her more immediate surroundings. She was in the middle of a painted pentagram.

The same as the girl from her nightmares, whose heart had been stolen.

The same as Raphael on the table being tortured and Layla dead on the floor.

And now her.

Her lungs tightened as her breathing quickened. No, no, no .

"I knew the night he said his directive changed, I needed to do something. He'd grown attached to you." Layla emphasized the word with bewilderment and an edge of disgust. "I could see how it would grow, and grow, and grow like a disease. I could see our downfall in you ."

Stella tried to intercede, but the tape did its job too well. She wanted to scream at Layla that she and Raphael were connected. That her death would mean her brother's. That the downfall was in Layla's hands, not hers.

Layla cocked her head to the side. "He cares for you. That makes him weak."

Stella shook her head.

"It does to our kind," Layla explained patiently and reached for something behind her back. A knife. It was long and slender, and wickedly sharp. "He should be here soon I think, looking for you." She pointed the knife at Stella, expression going flat. " And looking for me." The tip of the knife landed in the middle of Layla's clavicle. A bead of red swelled up, but she didn't seem to notice. "He'll find us both here because that's where you told him I'd be. Isn't it?"

Stella shook her head harder.

"You don't have to lie," Layla told her as she stepped over Stella. "I know all about your dreams, and if you didn't tell him—" Layla grabbed her by her chin and mouth from behind. "—he'll know where to find me anyway because of Kat."

Fresh tears blurred Stella's vision as Layla yanked her head back and up, exposing her throat and hoisting the upper half of her body into an awkward pose. Her breath came in heavy pants through her nose as she tried to stay calm and figure out an escape. Something. Anything.

"All my pieces are falling into place, and the next one is you," Layla whispered almost fondly, before the cool kiss of metal pressed against Stella's neck. "Any minute now…" Layla pronounced. Anticipation lined her words, and just as she predicted, the door at the far end of the room burst open. A panting figure with horns that curved beautifully back stood panting at the opening.

A sob tore through Stella as she fought and squirmed against her bindings. Raphael stepped farther into the room, a walking cane emphasizing each step. He wore a nameless expression as he took in their pair.

"Layla," he said in a cold greeting.

The door slammed shut behind him without prompting.

"Welcome, brother."

Raphael hadn't been prepared for the scene in front of him.

It completely tore his heart in two and sent his world toppling on its head. Stella's watery gaze locked on him.

The barrier she put up fell mere minutes ago as he ran through the Lunar Court. Her physical pain was singular—some blow to her head that ignited a headache of his own—but her fear and regret?

It threatened to drive him out of his mind.

"What are you doing?"

Layla looked almost disappointed in him. "I'm going to get my horns and finally be the demon I was meant to become. You should be happy for me, Raph."

He took a step, and then another when the knife at Stella's neck didn't move.

"There are other ways," he reasoned.

"Maybe," Layla conceded. "But I've chosen this one."

Her voice and posture, both depressed and morose, were in complete contradiction with the crazed flame in her eyes. The look left him off-balance and all the more concerned.

"Put the knife down, Layla," Raphael ordered calmly.

"Oh, I'm not going to kill her Raphael," she explained as though disappointed in his assumption. "She's going to kill herself."

Raphael caught the visible shudder that ran through Stella and then felt the pour of despair flood her emotions. He swallowed as their gazes locked briefly again. Another shudder went through Stella, but only a part of Layla's ruinous manipulation touched him through the bond. She'd put up a weak wall between them. By her strained expression, it took everything in her to sustain it.

It cut off her despair. Her fear. Her defeat.

To protect me.

Raphael's throat tightened as he watched Stella shut her eyes and try to lean away from Layla. His sister allowed it momentarily before yanking her back. A chilling serene smile lit up Layla's face.

"Isn't it perfect? It's what we've always wanted."

"You can't do this."

"I can."

An overwhelming amount of dissonance threatened to paralyze Raphael. He forced himself forward and focused on the fire Anubis gifted him as strength. The cornerstone of power centered him.

"You can't ," he ground out once more. The smile froze on her face. "We're soulmarks. If you kill her, you'll kill me."

Layla stilled then breathed out in a mimic of ecstasy, "I know."

The candles around the room flared. For the first time since stepping foot in the Immolatory, Raphael felt the presence of the golden effigy towering over them. Anubis's power intensified in him. A hiss escaped him as the power scalded his insides. Yet with each new burn, Raphael felt more and more of himself unleashed . He stood taller.

"I don't suppose you'd like to elaborate on how you know that information when nobody else does?" Layla didn't respond. Her regard grew hollow as she stared at him. As if he was nothing . Nothing but dirt beneath her fingernails.

Just like all the other demons in court.

"How can you do this after all I've done to protect you? After all we've been through? We're blood. We're family."

Layla's gaze turned to the knife in her hand. She dragged it up the side of Stella's neck, over her jaw, and then back down again. The faint sound of metal scratching against skin, and Stella's answering whimper made Raphael's body give an involuntary jerk. He rolled his neck, teeth grinding as he fought to ground himself.

Raphael started to close the distance between them in earnest. The cane hit the floor with hammer-like efficiency, echoing around the room. An unnatural stir disturbed the air. A warning of a sort.

"It's every demon for herself."

Those words. Raphael knew those words. Kat really had turned Layla against him.

The knowledge cut deep, and as if sensing it, Layla's eyes grew bright again. Showing no worry or rush, she reached over and placed the handle of the blade in Stella's bound hands. There was a struggle, but Layla easily overpowered her.

"Enough Layla!" Raphael roared, striding to get between the two before Layla did the unforgivable. He put the rest of the world out of focus save for Layla and Stella, trying to channel any sort of magic Anubis would allow.

But Anubis wouldn't acquiesce—couldn't—because he was burning away what lasting hold his previous Lord still claimed. Raphael felt the truth of it in his soul as they fought over it. He felt it in his horns, too, as a blistering pain registered across their surface. Raphael could do no more than grit his teeth against it.

Suddenly, it didn't matter what magic or God he might have called upon to help, because another magic struck out at him.

An electric jolt hit Raphael and tossed him flat onto his back. He let out a strangled cry as it careened through his body, leaving him to spasm and seize on the cool ground. When it finished with him, every nerve-ending he possessed was raw and exposed. The subtlest of movements roused gasp-worthy waves of pain to overtake him. Raphael bit his tongue to keep from crying out a second time as he rolled onto his side and pushed himself onto all fours.

His eyes fell on the pentagram. It glowed red, bathing Layla and Stella in its unholy light.

Layla locked eyes with him. They shone bright as he glared at her.

" Drown for me ."

Stella's eyes rolled back. The wall she built to protect him buckled until only a thin veil remained. It shielded Raphael little from the tidal wave of guilt, sorrow, and helplessness that assaulted him. Assaulted Stella.

"Please, Layla," Raphael begged.

She released Stella, leaving her on the ground, with the knife in her hands inching its way to her heart, and straightened. She held no sympathy in her regard for either of them. Only hunger. Raphael watched as beads of red sprouted on her face prefacing the runes to come.

Layla moaned. The sound was slight but charged all the same.

"Layla! Enough!" The blade continued to cut a tremulous path in Stella's hands. It spurred Raphael forward. He crawled back to the pentagram, body twitching and convulsing with aftershocks of the lightning magic. "Fight it, Stella!"

Raphael reached the pentagram, only for a wall of icy magic to block his entrance. A torrent of tears rushed down the sides of Stella's face as she witnessed his failure. The sight made him falter.

Please. Help me save her. Without her I am nothing. Raphael pleaded to Anubis.

There was nothing and then— You have the key to save her yourself.

Raphael sucked in a sharp breath as the omnipresent voice filled his skull and somehow managed to pull himself to his feet. I have the key? What does that mean? Panic scattered his thoughts as Stella's despair grew.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't think.

His gaze landed on Layla. She was watching him. She was—

Raphael grunted, and his hand rose to his chest as the strangest sensation drew over him; fingernails lightly dragging over the front crook of his neck. His hand rose to the spot, and he was shocked to find it cool to the touch.

Confusion joined the already tattered state of his emotions.

The point of pain at his chest grew and Raphael's eyes drew downward to inspect the area. There was nothing there harming him. His regard quickly jumped to Stella and the bloom of red that spilled down her shirt. An intense wave of distress racked his body followed by the creeping caress over his skin. Raphael went lightheaded as he turned his gaze back slowly to Layla.

She was feeding off him.

"What are you doing?" He found himself gasping.

"I have to feed, Raph." Layla's voice sounded far away. "The banshee… she was always meant to be a casualty in this war. Now she serves a higher purpose in her death for me." Layla's pupils contracted as if truly seeing Raphael. "She's the appetizer, but you?" Layla's hands rose to her face, letting her fingers play in the bloodshed of her new runes before bringing them to her lips. She sucked the blood off them with a reverence that made Raphael's skin crawl. "You're the main course. Your despair from her death will earn me my horns once and for all. Isn't that what you wanted for me all this time?"

"Not like this," he responded hoarsely.

Layla's brow furrowed as he dropped back down to a knee before the pentagram's edge. Stella's face contorted in a way that left no imagination to her silent agony. The knife shook in her hands, scratching up her chest. Her pain and sorrow reached out to him through the bond but in her eyes, a glimmer of light fought.

Which meant she wasn't completely consumed by Layla's outpouring of power. Not yet, but frightfully soon. A cold sweat bathed Raphael's neck as his lips pressed into a firm line.

"Not like this," he murmured to himself again. A steely conviction pulsed through him. "Not again."

Raphael drew inside himself and sank into their bond. Stella's wall of protection was brittle—a mere thin veneer held together by the sheer strength of her will. His throat tightened. She was giving everything of herself to spare him. To give him a chance. He wouldn't waste it.

Raphael blocked out the frightening energy of the room. The way the effigy's hatred and fury filled the room like a visceral thing. The hard press of Layla's emotional manipulation. The shadowed war that raged inside him for his soul.

And he gave himself over to hope.

To a future that was bright, and safe, and warm.

To the dreams he'd never allowed himself to have.

And then he gave them to her.

Stella's eyes widened in a spike of fear as he broke through her walls, before filling with tears anew. Raphael held her gaze as she latched onto what he offered like a lifeline, fighting the poison Layla fed her mind. He gripped the cane until he thought his knuckles might burst through his skin, fully focused on her.

"You've come too far to succumb to this. You're stronger than this manipulation, Stella. It's not real," he swore.

The tip of the blade stalled before it dug deeper into her skin. Raphael tensed. A shudder rolled over him at Stella's apologetic grimace before her eyes closed.

"You've fought for Layla and me. You've fought on behalf of your friends. Now you have to fight for yourself, Stella. You have to believe in yourself, like I do."

Raphael's chest locked up tight as an unexpected rise of emotion tumbled through him. One that shed light on the deepness of his feelings for Stella. He raised a palm to the very edge of the pentagram's line. Caustic cold magic vibrated in the air a hairsbreadth from his skin. It was chased away as the slightest measure of warmth rose to meet him through the bond.

Adrenaline rushed through Raphael's veins. He funneled it all to Stella. Her eyes fluttered open. The hopelessness was gone, and the vestiges of fear and despair were weaker. Layla's growl of frustration colored his hearing, but it faded into the background as if it had never sounded in the first place.

"I believe in you."

All at once there was nothing left to fight. Two cries sounded in the air at once. Raphael's filled with sheer gratitude and happy disbelief, and Layla's crowned in outrage.

Yet between their two cries rang the clearest sound of all. The knife clattering to the floor.

Layla's breathing grew labored, filling the room with outrage. " I hate you ."

Raphael flinched, his hand lowering down to his side. Using the cane as leverage, he pushed himself back up onto two feet. All the while, the space inside his heart that belonged to Layla and only Layla, bled out. A different kind of sadness swelled in him, but it didn't envelope him completely. A band of warmth reached out to him through the bond. Raphael gratefully wrapped the comfort around himself and put on a stoic facade.

"You've ruined my entire life with your so-called help." Layla pointed a finger at him, all vestiges of maniacal hunger replaced with anger. " You got us killed that day. You're the reason I'm like this. Why all I feel night in and night out is this unshakeable misery. Like I can never keep my head above water no matter how hard I try. Why some nights it takes all my energy just to drag myself through the halls, hoping some poor soul will come wandering my way so I might get a taste and keep living this hell."

Layla rocked toward him. Her anger wavering as a wave of despair rocked the airwaves.

"My entire life's been agony. It's only fair that yours should be the same." An unnerving serenity settled itself over Layla. "You're both going to die tonight. I don't care if I have to slit your throats myself to do it."

An avalanche of silence followed her statement. Before Raphael could say anything to dissuade her, she pivoted toward Stella. In two strides she was at her back, her foot poised to deliver a blow. Stella threw a panicked look over her shoulder just in time to watch Layla's kick descend upon her with brutal efficiency.

Stella rolled forward with the force, tumbling into the pentagram's magical ward only to haphazardly ricochet back. The blow hit Raphael as if had been done to him directly. The pain arched his spine as he jerked back, his vision distorting for several heartbeats before clearing. Just in time to see Layla sweep down and grab the knife.

"Move, Stella!" Raphael shouted. " Now !"

Raphael watched in horror as Stella wormed away from Layla. The adrenaline Raphael siphoned to her aided in the urgency of her movements, but little else. Her restraints left her defenseless against Layla's approach.

Panic scored Raphael's body as he rose to his feet, but it was overcome as something else entirely stirred within him and then exploded. Raphael gasped as an unearthly fire rendered him asunder from the inside out. Its blazing heat was unlike anything he'd ever experienced and forged him into brilliant steel. Raphael caught himself panting as the flames calmed and lay beneath his skin in wait for him to call.

Did that mean …

The walking cane's jackal head warmed unnaturally beneath his hand. His gaze flew down to it in shock. Its ruby eyes were ablaze.

Burn it down .

Anubis's command filled his head. Each word carried a weight and power Raphael hadn't known could exist. It engulfed him and threatened to take over his limbs if he failed to obey. Raphael swallowed thickly and clutched at the cane. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight the order, but he couldn't go through with it without offering Layla one last chance.

As if sensing what was to come, Layla sneered over her shoulder at him. She stood at Stella's feet, knife in hand. A beat went by with neither saying a word and then her sneer dropped. A look of terror smeared itself crossed Layla's face.

"What have you done?"

Raphael frowned at her.

"What have I done? You're the one—"

"Your horns, Raphael!" She shouted and turned fully to face him. Her expression crumpled to one of distress. "Your beautiful horns, Raphael. What have you done to them?"

He didn't know. He didn't care.

"Come with us," Raphael said, voice low and urgent.

Layla paused; eyes twitching as she studied him. " Us ?"

A giggle burst out of her. She raised a hand to stifle the sound, but it burst past the weak defense until she bent at the waist in hysterics. "Us?!" Layla pinned him with a look that belonged to a madman.

"You think you're so selfless coming here to save her and me. Newsflash, Raphael!" She shouted, letting her words bounce off the walls. "You're not the hero ; you're the villain of the story. You're the devil ." Her chest heaved with emotion before the energy of her outburst caught up with her. Layla closed her eyes for an elongated moment and took several deep breaths. "I'll see you in hell, Raphael. I'll see you both in hell."

There was a frightening finality to the way she spoke, and when she moved next it was with purpose. The game was over. Layla was on top of Stella in a matter of seconds, straddling her hips. Stella's bound hands rose defensively, but Layla pushed them down.

"This is going to hurt," Layla promised.

"Layla, stop!' Raphael ordered. "Don't!"

The knife rose above her head in what felt like slow motion. Raphael's heart had never beat so hard against his chest as he watched helplessly from the sidelines. He was so consumed he didn't notice the fire flaring up in him.

Burn it down, Raphael.

The command and godly fire surged through him. Raphael raised his foot with a roar to kick at the ward, but the same electric magic shot at him. He was thrust back, barely able to keep his feet under him. Stars and darkness filled his vision and a ringing sounded in his ear.

"Stop," Raphael gasped as he fought through the pain lighting up his nerve endings. His vision cleared for him to witness Layla's head tip back and glued her gaze to the golden effigy.

"I offer this sacrifice to you, my Lord. May it please you and grant me worthy in your eyes."