Chapter 43: Lana

I chor sprays over my face as Ethan dislodges an axe out of a hellhound's thick neck. In any other circumstances, one of us would be making a joke about it. But we're overrun by demons and no one is taking a break to speak beyond short commands and warnings.

I plunge both of my swords under a beefy demon's chin. The flesh-eating monster gurgles, black blood spilling out from between its sharp teeth. It scrabbles for my swords with its talons, slicing them off on the angelic steel. I grimace and pull the swords apart, eviscerating it.

Before I can catch a breath, unearthly screeching sounds behind me. I whip around to see a female-looking demon floating towards me. I've encountered a lot of different types of demons before. Or at least seen drawings of them. But this is a sight that will give me nightmares for weeks – if I survive this. The head of a beautiful woman floating seven feet above the ground, her entrails trailing under it, dragging over the dirt. While she rushes toward me, I can only discern lungs and lots of intestines. I don't need to see more, though. Before it reaches me, she's cleaved in half by Maalik's greatsword, the severed organs landing on the sandy soil with a plop. My stomach roils and I turn around before I throw up my breakfast, trusting my mentor to finish the demon off.

Liam is fighting several imps, so I run to him to help. While imps are easily dispatched and a type of demon we encounter often, they could overwhelm you with numbers to bring you to the ground. I gather moisture from the air – a rainbow of spilled blood and ichor – and force it into the lungs of four of them. As they start digging into their chests with their clawed hands, I relieve them of their heads, one by one.

"Thanks," Liam pants, bent over and bracing his hands on his thighs.

"Where's Puck?" I ask, taking the moment of reprieve to observe my surroundings. Elioud and Fallen battle minor demons all around me. I don't see many of ours on the ground, but the gore is starting to pile up. This is how I pictured Hell before I even knew it was a real place. Belial is still standing on the edge of the realm, as if he's waiting for something. Why not just kill us and be done with it?

"That your imp? He disappeared as soon as the demons showed up." Having caught his breath, my teammate jogs over to Jessica and the fanged demon she's fighting. A few feet behind them, Daniel is healing Darla, who has a nasty gash running down her thigh, too close to the femoral artery for my liking.

I contemplate helping Daniel heal her, when I'm brought to the ground, a heavy weight settling on my back. Saliva drips onto my neck and I instinctively send a punch of ether-called air to knock back my assailant. I turn to my back just as the hellhound recovers and thrust my swords out so that it impales itself on them on the next charge. Claws dig into my torso and I push my swords in deeper, twisting until the creature stops moving.

"Fuck," I grunt, using another blast of air to roll the demon off me. Dragging myself off the ground, I hiss as scratches that burn like hellfire make themselves known on every side of my body. I send only enough platelets to the wounds that I'm not actively bleeding – I can feel myself draining, my grasp over the ether becoming loose.

I don't know how much time passes as I fight back-to-back with my teammates, dispatching some stronger demons I've only ever read about, and a lot of lesser ones I encountered frequently. All I know is that we never had to fight for so long and we're all exhausted. Our swings are becoming slower, our strikes sloppier, and I don't think I could even heal an inflamed hangnail right now.

The Fallen are all fighting a massive behemoth with a body the size of an elephant. The monstrosity sports a horned head like a bull's and giant bat-like wings. Shaking my head, I head towards a cluster of fire imps harassing an exhausted soldier from Corson's team. I tag Peter out to take a breather and start dodging the hurled lava rocks the imps are creating using whatever demonic powers they possess, while slicing off smoldering limbs. I can hardly feel my body anymore and my lagging speed allows the last one to get a hit in just before I use my crossed swords to shear off its head.

"Motherfuck!" I yell at no one in particular and summon just enough moisture to douse the fire kindling on the sleeve of my leathers. The dirty liquid reveals a hole the size of a tennis ball, blistered red skin underneath.

"It would be a shame if you died on this battlefield."

The smarmy voice raises every hair on my body – and even that is painful in my state. I turn around to face the archdemon that, perhaps, waited until I was at the edge of the battle, separated from my allies.

"Still better than enduring whatever you want me for, I'm sure," I reply coolly. I didn't expect to make it through this alive, not with an archdemon gunning for me .

"And what if I looked like this?" Belial waves a hand towards his face, which changes between one blink and the next. He now looks like every romantic interpretation of an angel; clear cornflower blue eyes and short, wildly curly golden hair. His sensual pink lips are curled into a beatific smile and his cheeks glow with a healthy blush.

I laugh weakly – seems like even Hell has incels – and the smile instantly transforms into a snarl of rage. Touchy, touchy.

Belial swings out his arm and a blast of ether lifts me off my legs, hurling me through the air. I land on the ground, spinning, the impact knocking my breath away, my bones grinding against each other. Sand scrapes over my face and neck, burning viciously, invading my open mouth.

Once I stop tumbling, I groan and try to lift myself up from my sprawl, spitting sand. Before I manage more than a couple of inches, a kick lands in my side, flipping me to my back. I both felt and heard a rib snap.

I can't help the whimper that comes out of my mouth. Sensing a looming presence, I open the eyes I had shut tightly with pain. Belial stands above me, upper body moving with his furious heaving breaths.

"You are owed to me, you pathetic bag of blood." He's all but seething, hands clenched by his sides, like he wants to pummel me further into the ground.

"What are you talking about?" I wheeze, blinking to clear the spots from my vision.

"I did not give your grandfather leave to breed an angel and leave Hell!" He's growling with fury, as if it hasn't been decades since my mother was conceived. "Then when my soldiers tracked them down to bring him back, that meddling do-gooder got in their way and they slaughtered her for it."

My eyes are tearing up, both from the implications of his story – the tragic end my grandparents met because of this monster's pride – and the pain in my side.

"So he killed twenty-five of my best soldiers before they brought him down. He would not let himself be captured. "

"And you killed him, too," I finish the story.

"They killed themselves!" he snarls, eyes starting to glow orange. His voice is now far from that artificial sweetness. "They managed to hide their spawn, suppress its powers so it would go through life unnoticed."

My mother. That explains her complete ordinariness in spite of being a full-blooded Nephalem. I clench my teeth and wrap an arm around my aching torso.

"But you," he continues, that evil grin bearing his sharp teeth, horns emerging from the top of his brow. "I felt you. It took me decades to convince the council to enlist Elioud children. Years of herding the souls together until enough gained a form. But the council moves slowly…"

He could do that? It explains the clusters of manifestations in those caves… right before Ash and I ran into the archdemon now giving his villain speech.

"Why?" I ask, genuinely curious. "I'm just a quarter Nephalem. Rare, yes, but not that much stronger than my teammates. At least not in a tangible way." My senses are sharper than any of the other soldiers and that's about all I can claim as an upper hand.

"You will take the punishments of your grandfather. But you love spreading your legs for archdemons, don't you?" His lip curls in disgust. "He must have mounted you a thousand times for his smell to reek out of your every pore."

Belial holds his arm out to the side and a spear taller than the average man appears in his hand. The shaft is made out of the same demonic black metal as the swords Ash had made for me. The tip is fashioned out of a ruby, fire burning at its core.

"I think I'll start penetrating your body right now." He throws his head back and laughs at his own lousy pun.

I can feel my lower lip trembling in fear. I know it's better that I die today than to let this asshole torture me for years. But I don't want to die. I want to eat more quiet breakfasts with Daniel, laugh with Kevin on our patrols. Get drunk with Jessica and watch Ethan try to make Liam lose his temper. I want to find Simone. Make Maalik smile at my stupid jokes. Cuddle with Puck in the mornings.

But most of all I want Ash. I want to see that smug smile when he manages to get me flustered. The focused way he looks at me when I eat, like he's writing a research paper on all my favorite foods. I want to touch every inch of the taut smooth skin that covers his warrior's body. Want to lie in his possessive hold every night as I fall asleep.

A big part of me hoped that he'd find me on my next patrol, once his anger settled and whatever punishment he got for having all those humans killed was over. That he didn't mean for me to leave. Lying here, I don't even care about those deaths anymore. He'll never be the hero. But I clearly have the capacity to fall in love with a villain.

Belial presses the tip of his spear under my clavicle. His face is now that of the aberration he truly is. "Make sure to scream loudly," he chirps, the high-pitched voice so at odds with his horrific form.

He pushes the spear down, the sharp tip cutting through my leathers like a knife through butter. The next second it's embedded into my skin. I clench my teeth, pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth. As the ruby scratches against bone, I can't hold my pain in any longer.

My mouth opens in a shattering scream, every ounce of agony reflected in it. He twists and blackness starts overtaking my vision. The spear is pulled out just as a deafening boom of thunder vibrates through my body. I force my half-closed eyes to open and sob at the sky behind Belial.

Enormous crimson wings catch the air like mighty sails as Ashtaroth unsheathes his weapon and roars, "Belial!" Thunder emphasizes the fury in each syllable.

The psychotic demon giggles. "Oh, finally," he says, and throws a wave of Hellfire at my archdemon. Ash doesn't even try to dodge it as it hits him, and he explodes in a supernova of red light.

That's when darkness engulfs me and I lose consciousness.