On wobbly legs, I edge my way to the open door. I need to find Cassandra and my daughter. The sound of muffled voices filter along the corridor and I recognize Cass’s high-pitched frightened scream. Creeping along, I pass other occupied cramped chambers. From within, come moans and hopeless cries.

Markaz’s dungeons are filled to the brim with those that have displeased him in some measure. A playground for the sadistic son of a bitch and Hell for its tenants. Eight doors down I find my objective. The torturer within has been cocky enough to leave it wide open for anyone to view what’s happening inside.

Ethan.

Trousers bunched down around his knees, he swings the belt in his hand down, striking it viciously across naked flesh. The shriek of pain twists my heart. Naked, huddled in the corner, Cassandra bears the brunt of his savagery. Raised, bleeding welts litter her bare back as she tries to protect herself with her slender arms.

“I’ll beat the fight out of you, bitch. You think you can get away with biting my dick? Next time I shove it down your throat, if I feel your teeth, I’ll cut off one of your tits,” he snarls, enraged. “I’m going to enjoy getting between those youthful legs and making you a woman. Watch your blood and my semen trickle down your thighs when I’m done.”

Music curls its way through me at the thought of him stealing her innocence in the foulest way. The fucker deserves to rot in whatever Hell is deserved for his kind. He has a soul so he’ll be in with the damned.

Eyes landing on the dirty tray of knives and other implements across the room, I move silently towards it. Scanning further, I see my gun. It looks like he plans on keeping it as a trophy. Too bad that dream is about to go up in smoke.

Cass’s tortured gaze finds mine. It begs for help. Pressing a bloodied finger to my lips, I give her a look of reassurance. I’m going to make this fucker pay. Sensing something, he reaches for the gun. My attack is feral, but experienced. I’m on his back before he has a chance to take it.

Cassandra wraps her arms around her knees, rocking gently back and forth, sobbing.

I cling to Ethan like a limpet to a rock. Pain slashes through me as he digs his claws into my sides trying to dislodge me. Something wet and warm gushes down my skin, but I don’t let go. Keeping my forearm tight against his carotid artery, he succumbs to the sleeper hold.

“Hello, lover,” I croon against his ear, unable to hide my sick delight.

I keep the pressure until he begins to sag. Before he can pass out completely, I let go, sweeping his legs out from under him so he hits the floor hard.

Snatching a knife from the tray, I waste no time crouching over him. Taking his limp cock in hand, I slice it off at the thick, meaty, hairy base. It comes away easily. Blood pours from the stumpy wound. Screaming and writhing in agony, Ethan clutches his mutilated crotch.

“You crazy whore!”

“What’s the matter, babe? Doesn’t it feel as good for you as it does for me?” I grin with glee.

“I’ll kill you.”

Gaze flicking up to my gun, I know firing a shot down here will draw too much attention. It is a dungeon. Screams and the sound of suffering go hand in hand with a place like this, but not the sound of gunfire. Instead, I use the knife in my hand. Burrowing the tip into the side of his neck, I drive it deep.

“Payback’s a bitch and you aren’t going to escape karma this time, arsehole.”

His gurgling cries are music to my ears. He doesn’t know where to stem the flow from either fatal wound. Leaving him to bleed out, I rise and move to Cassandra. Still huddled in the corner, dark bruises and painful welts are raised on her youthful skin.

“Cassandra?” My voice is an uncertain whisper. I don’t want to startle her.

There’s no answer. Chills creep over my limbs as I shiver, adrenaline ebbing.

“Cass, you’re safe now, honey.”

Spying Ethan’s discarded shirt, I snatch it up. Gently as I can, I lay it over her shaking shoulders. Shock will be setting in. She needs to be kept warm and receive medical attention. Gaze running over every inch of her, I see the silver scars of healed cuts along her abdomen and forearms. Old wounds now healed. No longer cowering, she launches herself into my arms, a sobbing mess.

“It’s ok. I’ve got you.” I murmur comfortingly, stroking her blood-soaked hair. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Don’t let him hurt me. He wants to kill me. Darkness. There’s only darkness.” Her voice is broken and brittle. “His heart was never mine. Deadly rainbow. It only brings the end.”

Rocking her gently, I hush her words and turmoil. Fear has her visions and thoughts spiralling out of control.

“Raz and Lucifer are coming too.” She weeps softly. “So close, so close now.”

I pray that’s a vision and not a delusion of her tortured mind. Although I stopped her from being raped she will still live with the emotional trauma of the beating. She’ll never be the same now. Less trusting, more cautious and fearful, but I know she’s a fighter just like I am.

“Do you know where they’ve taken my baby?”

The question scorches through every cell. My child. Stolen from me and I need to get her back.

“You have to go before it’s too late.” Cassandra answers feebly, pushing me away. “Some pieces I cannot foresee. I’m sorry, Mavi.”

“But how do I find them?” I can’t search blindly and give them the chance of fleeing before I can discover their whereabouts.

“The shadows. Use the shadows. They will aid you.”

“CASSANDRA!”

The roar of her name shakes the ground and walls to the foundations with its boom. Raziel appears in the doorway like a madman possessed. Nostrils flaring, his eyes are wild. Blood cakes his clothing. A display of the violence he’s shed on his mission to find her. Ruthless gaze falling to Ethan’s corpse, his eyes leap to where we’re huddled. Running the heel of his palm unsteadily along his chin, he takes in all the visible abuse and damage we’ve both sustained.

“Cass?” The word is hesitant.

Weeping harder, she buries her face in my shoulder. Dropping to his knees beside us, his large hand hovers over her hair, uncertain whether his comfort will be accepted. Pain is etched over his rugged features.

“It’s ok, baby doll, Raz is here now. I’ll take care of you.”

Raising my arm, I aim the muzzle of my gun right at his heart. “How long have you known she’s my half-sister.”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “From the day we brought her home when she was six years old.”

Which can only mean I’ve been on the Devil’s radar far longer than I thought.

“And the old cuts along her forearms and stomach, who did those to her? I growl.

Raziel grimaces. “They’re self-inflicted. When her visions become too much she uses pain to blot them out. I’ve been working with her to try and stop the cycle, but it’s not been helping much.”

Hugging my sister closer, I pin him with a glare. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t blow your lying piece of shit arse away.”

“If you want to do it then pull the trigger, but nothing will stop me from trying to fix this mess. I should’ve watched her better. This is my fucking fault.”

Raking hands helplessly through his hair, I can see the guilt is eating him alive. A feeling I’m familiar with. It’s like an old friend now. He does care for her. I can at least see that is true.

Shifting Cass gently, I lean her into the strength of his muscled chest. She goes without protest, snuggling into him, anxious for reassurance.

“Get her out of here and to a doctor. You can teleport, right?”

Sweeping up her fragile form, he’s vigilant not to touch the welts marring her back.

“No, they have some kind of dampening field that’s blocking my ability, but I’ll get you both out even if I have to carry you.”

Rising, I scan the cell for my shoulder holster and extra ammo.

“I’m not going with you. I need to finish this. I’m going after Markaz.”

Cradling the trembling girl, Raziel easily gets up in one fluid motion. “It’s being taken care of.”

“Like fuck it is. This won’t be over until he’s dead at my feet.”

“You’re going to take him out buck naked?”

Placing hands on my hips, I stand proud and tall. “With just a smile on my face if I have to.”

“You’re such a crazy bitch, Mavi, and that’s why I like you.” Swinging a duffle bag off his shoulder, he dumps it at my feet. “I picked these up a few floors above as I didn’t know what state I would find you both in.”

Kneeling, I find an assortment of clothes. “You came prepared.”

As the second in command to the throne of Hell, he’s probably done more than his share of torturing. He’d know first-hand what a prisoner goes through. Riffling through the garments, I find jeans that look like they’ll fit. Quickly as I can I drag them on. I’m not too fussed about going commando. Fishing out a long-sleeved top that’s a couple sizes too big, I pull it over my head. These will have to do.

On another inspection, I find my leather holster and ammo stashed at the bottom. Reloading and checking the two knives, I shrug it on. The familiar weight relaxes and focuses me for what’s ahead.

I am a storm.

A hurricane.

A force of fucking nature which will not be stopped or reasoned with.

I will wreak chaos.

“You’re better off coming with us. There’s no way you’ll find Markaz now. He’ll be long gone now that I slaughtered my way down here.”

Ignoring Raziel’s words, I concentrate on the melodious notes that have been playing softly in the back of my head. They grow stronger with driving purpose. I’ve tapped into every facet of what I truly am. From here, there will be no going back. Whatever hopes I had at salvaging by ink-stained black soul are forever lost.

Slinking insidiously, the shadows come to my call. Behind me, I hear the Nephilim swear. Air shifting, I know he’s reaching for me, but I’m enveloped by the gloom before he can intervene. The fire of my rage had turned frozen with a fury that burns. Now Markaz will learn the torment of cold unfeeling ice which sears much deeper than its counterpart.

The world shifts around me. I know with certainty the shadows will take me where I want to go. As they whisk me to my destination, I hear ominous whispers. Unfurling around me like petals of a flower, they stretch out into the darkness. The light of the high moon bathes the untouched white landscape in a silver glow making everything brighter.

Wailing. A new-born’s frightened cry pierces the silence of the night. Beyond the expanse of the open clearing, I spy two robed figures stalking away. Bare soles becoming numb from the bite of the snow, I ignore it as adrenaline kicks in. I jog to intercept them. My eyes sweep the area every few seconds for any surprises, but nothing stirs.

Juliana.

I never got the chance to hold her. They took her from me, but tonight I intend to take her back and never let go.

“Miss me, daddy dearest?” I call in the sweetest of voices.

Swivelling in astonishment, Markaz cradles a bundle in his arms. The wail comes stronger this time.

Attention latching onto the tiny fist I see waving from the furs, I fight every instinct to crowd his space and snatch her back.

“Only the Devil has the power to command the shadows so completely.” He tells me in astonishment.

I sense the last of them seep away, merging back into the dark.

“I guess they’ve decided to obey a new master.”

Turning to his companion, he gently places his burden into the waiting embrace. “Knell was supposed to be training you.”

Freeing my gun, I tap the barrel against my lips thoughtfully.

“Was that his name? I killed him right before I ended Ethan who was in the middle of abusing my sister.”

“That was never part of our agreement, Markaz. The girl was never to be touched.”

That angry voice. Sensual, lethal, it has the power to liquefy my bones. Sweeping up the heavy hood, it’s owner bares his cruelly angelic face, displeasure clear in his expression. All my attention centres on the dark man. His eyes hold mine.

Lucifer.

Colour ebbs from my cheeks. “You’re in on this?”

Markaz laughs nervously. “Who do think was the one to take your baby from your womb? He had his priests perform the ceremony. Cut you open himself. We’ve had a deal for months. I get a kingdom and he gets the child with no threat from me.”

He’s been pulling the strings to this fucked up morbid chess game the whole time. If they expect this news to cripple me they’re going to be disappointed. Violence, pure and undiluted, consumes me completely. Music pours through me. Everything I have endured at their hands fuels the burning acid of pain. I embrace it willingly.

“Our game is finally at an end and it’s time to say goodbye, my Flower.” Lucifer looks towards his companion.

Hysterical laughter rises in my throat. “No, it’s time for you to die, motherfuckers. Let’s play.”

They’re about to learn I won’t be the victim of their games any more. Aiming, I unleash my anger with a twisted smile painted on my face. I’m an expert shot, but not enough to risk my daughter. Instead, I focus on Markaz. One less arsehole to deal with.

As each blessed bullet rips into his torso, he jerks. Blood blossoms from each neat hole, but it doesn’t bring him down. Bellowing like a demented elephant, he swells, growing in size. Veins popping in his neck, he charges before his horns have a chance to fully extend. Visage monstrous, he reveals what we are. A beast.

The thunder of his feet powering him across the frozen lake splits the air. Unsheathing a knife, I fire a few more times into his torso. He expects me to go down easily. The fucker may have fathered me, but he doesn’t know what I’m capable of. His muscular frame is unadulterated strength, but it also makes him cumbersome. I see my advantage.

Dodging clear of his first punch, I drive the blade into his exposed side to the hilt. Warm and wet, the spurt of his blood is welcome. His other arm swings my way, but I’m ready for it. Tearing the knife free, I run the length of its sharpness along his uncovered forearm, cutting open a gaping gash.

Markaz roars.

Hand slick with the evidence of my small victories, I dart under his flailing arm. He’s a hardy cocksucker. More super juiced than any berserker I’ve come across before, but still sloppy. As a strategist he creates war, plots every detail from the safety of distance. Has others fight for him. Lacks the skills a warrior needs. I, on the other hand, have always been knee deep in death.

The smell of burning flesh is a sickly aroma as the blessed bullets sear within his body, but still, it doesn’t slow him down. Delivering shallow cuts, I litter his back and anywhere else exposed.

I’m drunk on violence. The need for revenge. I want to bring them to my personal Hell. Feed my hunger with their blood and screams of mercy. The entirety of my being advances higher in a clarity of bloodlust. Transforming me into a hurricane of sharp precision. A force of nature; both majestic and deadly.

Spinning, Markaz lunges out with brute force intent on ending my vicious attack. In a graceful, revolving whirl, I move clear.

“Can you try harder? I’m getting bored already.”

The music in my soul continues to rise towards a delicious crescendo.

Spittle frothing from the corner of his mouth, he snarls. “You’re a cocky bitch.”

A sudden gush of pain jolts through my ribs. Doubling over from the slash of his claws, the gun in my hand is knocked clear. My agile movements only save me from another pitiless fist. Skidding across the ice, a hiss escapes me as tender skin scrapes the hard surface.

“I’ll cut out your tongue and use it to clean my boots when this is through.”

Giving him the middle finger in answer, I quickly scan the area for Lucifer and my daughter. The arsehole hasn’t moved. Expression impassive, he continues to watch us battle. I hope he’s taking stock of what will be coming his way. As soon as I’m done with Markaz I’ll have the Devil’s head as a trophy.

Tightening the grip I have on my knife, I circle Markaz. I know I can’t underestimate him. Arrogance will get me killed. Maintaining a cool detachment, I push ego aside.

With a burst of unnatural and unanticipated speed, he attacks. Clutching me around the throat, he lifts me effortlessly off the ground.

Panic flares low in my belly. Eyes going wide, I claw at his arm. Squeezing tight, he crushes the flow of oxygen to my lungs. He’s going to break my neck. I recognize the stillness that washes over him. Jamming the blade of the knife into his throat, I cut a jagged opening in his flesh. Locking my legs around his waist I swing around onto his back the second he releases me.

Raining down blow after blow with my elbow onto his skull, I use the tip of the blade to rip at his exposed neck, tearing it away like fine paper. There’s no way to get to his vital organs without his retaliation. Blood pours from the damage dealt as he writhes and screams desperate to dislodge me.

Hand groping up, he fists a chunk of my hair. Tightening, he yanks with a strength that not even I can defy. Airborne, I’m not prepared for the slam of a solid surface against my back. Bruised, winded, I have no time to catch my breath. Rolling to the side, I find my gun within reach. Snatching it up, I scramble up on shaky legs.

With an inhuman roar, Markaz rams into me with the force of a truck taking us both off our feet. We hit the ice. Barrel pressed to his chest, I pull the trigger. The bullet strikes, ripping through his flesh and muscle just shy of his heart. The sound of cracking is swift and thunderous, roaring through the twilight.

Realization comes quickly, but not quick enough. Sinking through the rupture we’ve created, I gasp from the sharp chill of the frigid depths. Scratching in panic, my frozen fingers don’t find purchase in the slippery sides. A hand manacling my ankle draws me down.

With one huge breath, I’m dragged beneath as Markaz takes me to join him in his watery tomb. Gaze fastened on the surface above, I catch sight of a form staring down at us from above. Safely swaddled in a blanket, my baby is wrapped in his arms. Emerald green eyes watch me mercilessly, chilling me to the bone.

The Devil has his daughter.

No emotion shows on his handsome face as I sink farther. Swiftly turning, he walks away. Screaming in outrage, my mouth fills with water. I’ve been discarded. Left to die now that the fucker has what he wants. Emotions bleed out of me. I’ve played my part and he’s finished his game.

Claws rake into my foot. Angling my head down, I kick at Markaz with the other. A line of crimson streams from the bullet wounds in his chest. Winter blue eyes meet mine for a moment. Hatred. It’s clear and in that second I know this needs to end now. We plummet together into the murkiness beneath.

He clings to me with a death grip as we speed in our descent. This motherfucker won’t quit breathing. He’s an immense pain in my arse. Unsheathing a knife from the holster at my back, I drive it through his evil heart without remorse.

The notes of the song become echoes of a sweet corrosive melody that die away in my head. Warmth tingles through my hands. Power burns up through the layers of my skin in a virtuous desire to cleanse and purify. A wave of pain hits me as claws pierce my side. Adrenaline masks the debilitating injury.

Again and again, I thrust, angelic light pulsing through my fingertips, ingraining the blade with the force of my slipping sanity. It’s not my brother, but it still hurts ending the shell that once housed him like this. My purpose was to protect him. I have to see this as a way of setting him free, if by any chance, a fragment of Nathan remains.

The gloom swells below him. He writhes, convulsing as the last of the air leaves his lungs. I watch his eyes become glossy and vacant with death. Eerily still, he vanishes from sight.

Gaze rising, I struggle against the pull that has me in its grip. It’s dragging me down. Curling around my legs, tugging me into its frigid blackness. The need to breathe clamours through me. The surface of the water shimmers above, calm and welcoming. Kicking my legs, I swim with all my worth, ribs throbbing as blood loss makes me woozy.

Inches from the surface, the current pulls me back. So tired now, my movements are slower, sluggish. I’m fighting a losing battle. Sinking deeper, legs exhausted, unable to hold my breath any longer, cold-water rushes into my mouth.

I’m going to die. Again.

This time I know there will be no coming back. The thought splinters my oxygen deprived mind. I want my baby. She deserves a life with a mother. With me.

Lungs shuddering, feeling as if they’re about to explode, I muster the last of my strength. Darkness swirls into my vision. Silent, subtle, it surrounds me.

Death.

We’ve met once before. It looms, waiting to claim me in its bony icy embrace once again. My body will be left to float forever in this peaceful grave. I’ve played the Devil’s game and now he’s taken his due. The ultimate price. My life.

Abruptly, the sensation of being towed upwards registers. Head breaking the surface, I drag in a tortured gasp, water streaming from my mouth and nose. Red and black blotches dance before my eyes. I’m pulled into a pair of strong arms.

Lucifer.

I don’t miss the sob that escapes him. He holds me so tightly I can barely breathe.

“It’s all right, Mavi. I’ve got you. You’re safe, my brave one.” He croons in the gentlest voice I’ve ever heard against my damp hair. “Your trials are finally over. Rest.”

I sag into him with relief. Exhausted, I allow myself to slip into sweet oblivion.