Chapter Nine – Lydia
She was in a waiting room. It was plain with off-white walls, gray carpet, and magazines featuring dozens of languages stacked on the small coffee table. A receptionist sat at a desk, typing away at a computer.
When Lydia first arrived, the receptionist had told her to take a seat and wait because it might take a while. She didn't know how long it had been since then. She had tried to read the magazines, but they all reminded her that she didn't have time to waste and so she ended up watching the receptionist ignore her.
"What am I waiting for?" she asked, abruptly annoyed. "Where is this, anyway? I know I got speared. Is this limbo? It can't be heaven or hell. Just doesn't fit the profile."
The receptionist gave her an irritated look but didn't respond. Just as Lydia was about to march over and demand answers, a door just past the receptionist opened. She leaped to her feet, her heart in her throat, as two people walked in.
"D-dad? Mom?"
Tears flooded her eyes. She rushed into their arms, the stress and fear from the years without them melting away. They wrapped their arms tightly around her.
"You've grown into such a beautiful young woman," her mother said, beaming. "I can't wait to hear everything you've done with your life – but not now."
Her dad kissed the top of her head. "You have to go back, sweetheart. I know it won't be easy, but you have to go back."
Back where? To life, with all its pain and uncertainty? Ugh. No thank you. Lydia shook her head. "It's better here. I can't do anything there, anyway."
Her parents glanced at each other. Her mother shook her head. "What makes you say that?"
"I'm only one person, and I can't even use my supposed Paladin abilities. Ian—" She cut off. If she stayed here, Ian would be facing the horde of demons on his own. How was that fair?
"Ian?" Her father frowned. "Who is this Ian?"
Her mother gave him a half-glare. "Someone she has to get back to, obviously."
Lydia nodded slowly. "I have to go back. For him."
"Then go." Her mother and father both kissed her. "Go now!"
Lydia's eyes flew open. In an instant, she was aware of everything around her. The beeping of a heart monitor, the IVs sticking into her arm, a vague itching in her chest where the burning pain of being stabbed ought to be. A nurse beside her bed, about to insert a needle into her IV.
The nurse's eyes flicked to her. Cold, dead eyes. The kind that killed without remorse, the kind that had haunted her dreams for twenty years.
Lydia screamed. The demon slapped a hand over her mouth. A burst of fiery strength ran through her and she struck the demon in the ribs, making it stumble back. It still had the needle, though, and switched to try to plunge it directly into Lydia. She threw herself to one side, dodging the deadly point. Her movement yanked on her IVs, bringing the stand down on the demon.
With another scream, Lydia yanked the IV needle from her arm. A bolt of white-hot pain ran through her arm while blood spurted into the air; the demon lunged again, and this time she struck back. The IV needle went cleanly through its eye. The demon reeled back, screaming and howling in pain. Lydia jumped out of the bed and grabbed a chair sitting next to it. As the demon straightened, she hurled the chair at it and ran for the door.
"Help!" she screamed. "Ian!"
The hospital gown flapped around her as she burst through the doors to the corridor outside. Her whole body felt like it was filled with fire, but it didn't hurt – more like she was made of fire, not merely channeling it. The demon chased after her, but she slammed the door into its face as it jumped towards her, and it crumpled.
A shout made her turn. Ian was being held by a dozen security guards. His arms were being yanked behind his back. He threw off one of his attackers, only to be tackled by two more. One of the guards pulled out a Taser. Smoke curled from Ian's mouth, his skin taking on a blue-green hue. Lydia growled, charging for them.
On instinct, she threw out her hands. The lessons Ian had been trying to teach her came back, tingling at the back of her mind. She called the fire inside and let it surge through her arms, into her palms. Bright, pure white light burst from her hands. The guards shouted, shielding their eyes from the light. Three of them howled in pain, clutching their heads. They fell to their knees, spasms overtaking their bodies.
When the light disappeared, these guards whipped their heads up, screaming. Lydia stumbled back, heart in her throat. Distorted, grimacing faces greeted her. Their skin was a mottled white and amber-red, eyes pure black. Sharp teeth gleamed and forked tongues flickered.
The human guards cried out, stumbling away from the demons. Was this why they wanted to kill her? Because she could reveal what they truly were?
Lydia's stomach churned. The fire inside, so powerful moments ago, was dying, doused by fear. She tried to call it back, but she didn't have the control she should have. Ian surged to his feet, but the demons punched him in the kidneys and knees, driving him back down. One of them focused on the Dragon, beating him, while the other two headed for Lydia. She held up her hands and called forward her weak fire again. Blue flames coated her fingers.
One of the demons chuckled, those dead eyes locked on her. "Such a brave little girl. Or should I say stupid? You've never gone for what you really wanted, have you? You've drifted through your life, always waiting for someone else to push you to do what you want."
The fire around Lydia's hands flickered. She backed away while the demons came forward. The nurses and security guards were all running in the opposite direction, but there was nowhere for Lydia to run – not unless she was going to go through a window. The demon that had tried to kill her while she was unconscious stepped into the corridor. Blood dripped from its ruined eye, but it grinned at her.
"You can't defeat us," it said. "One little girl against the powers of hell. Give up and your death may be quick."
Lydia shuddered, stomach churning. Those words felt so familiar. Her chest ached where she had been speared – no. That had been higher. Her breath caught. The old bullet wound she received when she was five years old was aching.
And she remembered where she had heard the demon's statement before. Her father had been standing over her with nothing but his fists against a demon as it revealed its true nature. You can't defeat me. One little man against the powers of hell.
Her mother had already been dead. Her father must have known there was no way to defeat them. But he fought anyway.
So would she. Lydia threw her hand forward, sending a fireball towards the demons. They moved aside, but it flickered and died before it even reached them. Lydia tried to summon more fire, but her hands shook with fear, and her inner ferocity burned low. She glanced helplessly towards Ian. The demon was still beating on him; his hands were pinned beneath its knees and his head moved side to side like a ragdoll's with every blow. Blood coated his face.
"Ian," she called.
"Don't think that the Dragon will save you," the demon she had stabbed said. "His line was weak. It was easy to turn the humans they knew against them. His apathy in the centuries since has helped us. He doesn't care enough to try to help you now."
Ian roared. The demons jumped and turned. The Dragon let out a burst of fire from his mouth, burning the head off the demon that was beating on him. His face was a mass of bruises and blood as he dragged himself to his feet. Smoke rolled off him, coming from various cuts covering his body. His teeth sharpened in his mouth.
Lydia didn't wait to see what the demons would do. Their distraction bought her just a few seconds. She raced into the nearest room and slammed the door shut behind her. Grabbing a chair, she swung it at the window. The glass shattered as the door burst open again.
The demons streamed in. The one with the bleeding eye lunged for her. She screamed, swinging the chair at it. It struck the chair aside.
"Drop!" Ian shouted from somewhere near the door.
Lydia didn't hesitate. She threw herself to the floor, curling into a ball. A burst of flame filled the room. The curtains caught flame instantly. The demons screamed as they were consumed. One threw itself out the window only to explode like a firework just outside. The rest of them writhed as Ian jumped onto the flaming bed. He tore into them, ending it in seconds. The last one fell, burned beyond recognition.
Lydia stumbled to her feet. The heat made her head swim. A fire alarm rang somewhere in the building and a sprinkler system in the ceiling activated, spraying down in the burning room. Ian ripped down the curtains and stomped them out while Lydia pulled off her hospital gown to smother the burning mattress. The smell of melting plastic made her gag.
Ian's arms wrapped around her waist. "We have to go. There's no more time."
"Right," she said. He pulled her towards the window. "Wait, you're not going to jump, are you?"
"Don't worry." He kissed the back of her neck. "I can fly."