Pure & Sinful (Pure Souls) - By Killian McRae Page 0,5
Jerry on an improvised spacewalk into the invisible wall he created. She expected him to propel himself forward, to lash back in his usual bipolar way, even if a moment ago he held her with a level of intimacy and sincerity that had her head spinning. He didn’t. Gravity pulled him without objection to the floor, where he sat mournfully, looking at her with a hurt, defeated expression.
His words were laced with muted pride. “That’s my girl. Now, have at it.”
Something about seeing him give up so easily, to accept his end, knowing she held his earthbound existence in her hands… Something shifted. Sure, Jerry Romani was a demon of legendary dark deeds, and sure, he probably wouldn’t hesitate if their roles were reversed, but was that justification enough to destroy him?
“I … can’t!” Her tone approached an apology. “Jerry, please. I know there’s good in you. Someone who was as caring and tender with me as you were can’t be all evil. Isn’t there a way? Can’t you come back to our side?”
He looked like a man in mourning as his head shook. “The road to Hell has few exits and only goes one way. I can give up the demon, but I can’t forgo the damn.”
“There must be a way. Maybe—”
“There’s not, babe,” he said, cutting her off. “Believe me, it’s all been tried. I am a demon, you are a Pure Soul. If you’re not willing to come over to our side…”
She shook her head.
“Well, then,” he sighed, “let’s just leave the past behind us and get to kicking each other’s asses. In the end, we’ll always have Paris.”
She clicked her tongue. “We never went to Paris.”
“That wasn’t you?” He scratched his head. “Hmm, who the hell was it then? Damn, she was a sweet lay.”
Reminded all too well of the fickleness of a demon’s heart, Riona lashed out. “Quantos mironus!”
It was so cliché, so Captain-Kirk-gets-attacked-by-an-alien, but magic was what it was. The power gathered at her fingertips and shot forward. The lightning-like stream collected into a ball at the pit of Jerry’s stomach before extending across the planes of his chest and down the tips of his limbs. A shake and a shimmer, a smidgen of a pained wince, then he gave her one last, enduring smile.
“Brava, amaro mio.”
He didn’t vaporize like the other demon did; he exploded. In chunks. Riona found herself looking into blue eyes one moment, and picking bits of those eyes out of her hair the next.
“Could this be any grosser?” she mused to herself as she flicked what was probably a tooth off her blouse.
“Keystone!”
Was she so centered on the showdown that she forgot all about the buffet of bad asses who filled the room? Riona’s attention turned immediately to the brawl and bashing that could have been filmed on a Hollywood set when she heard Marc bellow, “I know breaking up is hard to do, but maybe you could, you know, help us?”
Dee threw demons left and right with rippling muscles and domineering physique. He looked like a Greek god defending Olympus from the Titans.
Wouldn’t his daddy be proud? Riona thought.
The priest, however, was doing what little he could, using a simple, electromagnetic charm to shock three scaled demons who had him cornered. His eyes were wild with fear, an emotion she had never witnessed before in his features.
Sensing that the magical barrier had disappeared with her ex, Riona summoned the power that so easily channeled through her. Still, it was her first attempt at multiple demon dumping, and she only hoped she was up to the task.
Who was she kidding? She had just destroyed Jerry Romani, the devil’s right-hand demon. She could take on Lucifer himself right now and probably get away clean.
Her hands worked the magic, moving in concentric circles as the power gathered from the reaches of the universe into a silver ball of light before her.
“Corbelum frotai nokturna fiente!”
The ball grew from a pinprick to an omnipresent light radiating throughout the room. As it touched each demon, a momentary sense of shock and pain overcame their ghastly features before each in turn fell to ashes in its wake. Of course, the power of the light only passed briefly through Marc and Dee, giving each no more than a tickle. Dee swung a barstool through empty air, making contact with nothing and spinning in the wake. Marc stumbled forward, his ramming charge pointless with the defeated enemy now gone.