Cipher (Demonica Underworld #8) - Larissa Ione Page 0,56

life, but fear for Lyre. And the world. If they didn’t stop Bael, the crazy motherfucker was going to trash human life, Heavenly life, and Azagoth’s entire world. And once Satan was free, the trash pile was going to get even bigger.

That guy had a score to settle.

“Can you really bring down his security systems?” Lyre asked. “Even with your powers diminished?”

“Yup.” He fired up his baby. “It’s all about the computer. No magic involved.”

She paced around the room, her nerves showing with every quick step, every nibble on her nails. “How long will it be before the soul barrier spells are down?”

He checked the clock on the computer. “If I didn’t screw anything up, we have about ten minutes.”

“Is that enough time to bring down his security systems?”

He tapped his way into Bael’s security backdoor and looked for the trigger Journey had installed. “It should be.”

“Should be?” Her fingers went absently to the aural tucked inside her waistband, covered by her shirt. It was still visible, but it was more likely to be mistaken as a dagger than recognized as a rare, ancient angel-killing stake. “Bael is going to know the moment the protective spells are gone, and he’s going to know who did it.”

“I know.” There was Journey’s backdoor. All Cipher had to do was flip a virtual switch, and every bit of Bael’s tech would fail. If Journey himself had written the program, it would take Bael’s best technicians hours, if not days, to get it up and running again. The Memitim was that good.

“Can Bael repair the spells?”

“I fucked them up pretty bad. If he tries to use the same spells again, they’ll fail. Eventually his sorcerers will try new formulas, but I bought us some time to escape.” He looked over at her. “Your inability to flash out of Bael’s realm is tied to the spell barriers, right?” At her nod, he continued. “Then all you have to do is flash us out of here once they’re down.”

She snorted. “First we have to make it out of the building and across the drawbridge. No one can flash in or out of his castle or the surrounding grounds, and you know he’s going to lock everything down.”

Which was why they’d have to run really, really fast. While being completely inconspicuous.

“We just have to trust that Azagoth will come through,” he said, and she gave a skeptical snort.

“I still don’t understand how you can trust any of those people.”

“Not everyone is out to hurt you, Lyre,” he said softly.

He popped open his message app and shot Hawkyn a note. Glanced at the computer clock. The spells should break outside in 3...2...1.

“It’s time.”

He flipped the switch.

* * * *

“Father!”

Hawkyn ignored Zhubaal’s warnings that Azagoth was not only busy but also not in the best of moods, and he burst into Azagoth’s office.

“I got a message from Cipher,” Hawkyn said breathlessly. “He’s brought down Bael’s security system and the soul barrier.”

Azagoth turned away from the griminion he’d been speaking to. “So I’ve been informed.” He’d probably felt the soul barrier’s collapse himself.

“So what are we going to do? Cipher needs help, and none of us can enter that part of Sheoul.” It was damned inconvenient, too. There were a lot of places inside Sheoul where angels couldn’t—or wouldn’t—go. Most parts of Sheoul, in fact. “Whatever it is, we need to hurry. Bael will have everything up and running again soon.”

And then Cipher, if he couldn’t escape in time, would die.

“I’ll take care of it.” Azagoth gestured to the little robed griminion, and the critter skittered away.

“Take care of what?” It could be dangerous to question the Grim Reaper, but Hawkyn had found that if he didn’t nail down specifics, Azagoth found loopholes. Azagoth could find a loophole in a straight steel rod.

“Bael.” Azagoth’s voice dipped low, daring Hawkyn to ask another question.

Hawkyn dared. This was too important not to. “What about Cipher?”

“I’ll take care of him too.”

Azagoth’s tone was chilling, and Hawkyn growled. “I want him back alive. Not barely alive. Not mostly alive. Alive and well. With a physical body.”

Crimson streaks flared in Azagoth’s black eyes as his anger and malevolence escalated. “He killed my daughter.”

“No, he didn’t.” Hawkyn dug his phone out of his pocket. “Just before Hawkyn’s message, I got word from the Memitim Council. Amelia was Primori.”

“What?” Azagoth’s shock morphed instantly into doubt and anger. “How can any of my children be Primori?” he snapped. “They’re Memitim. They can’t be both.”

Hawkyn had been as stunned