Page 145 of Lourdes & the Mafia
Thuriel stands from the rubble of the stone wall, his face contorted into anger. I reverse time, making his wings go back to their broken selves. He cries out in pain, his knees buckling beneath him as his wings crack at the bone, twisting behind his back once more.
I’m gasping for breath, my fist tight against my chest as if that could calm its rapid beating.
“This magic,” I ground out, “is mine.” His eyes widen with surprise as I throw my legs over the side of the stone and push to a stand. “This magic belongs to me, and I won’t have you changing the course of history for your own benefit.”
He snarls and takes a step towards me. Just like that, the dress I’m wearing, the mysterious dress that Lorenzo said he didn’t know what it did, begins to emit a soft glow. A halo of light wraps around my body. A light similar to the angelic one I witnessed wrapped around Ramiel’s body.
Like something that came from the heavens themselves, wrapping me in a warm embrace.
I smile then just as he cries out in rage.
He starts forward again, only for his anger to be drowned out by the revving sounds of dozens of motorcycles.
I smile to myself as her image comes to mind, a flash vision of a future quickly becoming the present. I don’t need to turn to see it come into being. Dozens of motorcycles drive up from the ocean and onto the slope of sand.
I don’t need to turn to look and see the leather cuts with the logos of Shipwreckers and Krakens alike.
I don’t need to turn to see who is leading the charge, because I’ve already seen it in my mind.
Queenie, straddling the back of a spelled motorcycle, her Kraken Queen leather jacket hugging her body.
A fucking gun raised in her hand.
I smile in Thuriel’s direction, his shocked face something worthy of a photograph.
“Release the Krakens,” I joke.
Just as the motorcycle clubs rev forward on their bikes.
And all chaos ensues.
Bullets ping off of wet stone. Thuriel screeches commands. His creatures dart forward.
And among the chaos, more beings start to appear. They arrive from an awning in the ground. Demons, rising from darkness and The Pit. Flames licking at their heels.
They fall from the sky.
Three terrifying creatures like gargoyles, with hard, gray bodies that look to be made from stone. Their wings a sheer pinkish color, horns rising from their heads, and retribution shining in their demonic gazes.
I don’t need confirmation to know who they are.
Demons. Leaders.
Generals of the Underworld.
And if they’re here… then that means…
A smile twists on my face as darkness shatters around us. It lashes out like coiled ropes, like whips slashing against any approaching creature with gnashing teeth and dozens of eyes. A magic I recognize. The same magic that ties me up so tenderly has become a deadly force to be reckoned with.
And when Kane emerges from the darkness, his wings, horns, teeth, and talons on display, my chest warms as I watch my King of The Pit tear through a line of creatures, his own demonic minions rising around his feet to do his bidding.
I want to cheer, but the sound clogs through my throat as Thuriel runs in my direction. Our bodies collide in a painful punch and we go flying backwards, my back cracking against the stone.
I scream as his hands come down against my face again, trying to force the magic and his will out of me.
I claw at him, fighting to overthrow his hold.
His body is wrung from my own, pried away from mine with a ripping force of magic. I scramble to a sitting position, gasping as I watch a single figure materialize before me to stare down Thuriel.
