Page 117 of Not Today, Satan
A growl builds low in my throat.Oh, absolutely not. He may have tried to take my fingers, but he will not get Nate’s.
“Hey, assface,” I call. “Why don’t you come fight an actual demon instead of picking on humans?”
His face contorts into something I’ve only seen in Nate’s horror movies. I take an involuntary step back as the hairs rise on the back of my neck. He lets out a scream that may be a word but isn’t anything I recognize in any language I know, and charges.
My full strength is returning, and I’m ready for him this time. As he barrels toward me, I put all of my weight onto my back leg. Then I thrust my other foot forward, heel first. The kung fu kick hits its target: the smoking wound in Ferus’s chest. He shrieks and drops to his knees, clutching his torso.
I land another blow to his head, and he falls at my feet, whimpering like a child.
Raising my sword, I glower down at him. Father’s wings tremble on his back, as though even they understand they don’t belong there.
My chest squeezes as I recall the times I found Father staring at them on his wall. Before learning about my mother, I was sure they were his only vulnerability. Now they’re tainted by Ferus and his ambition.
“Those aren’t yours, Ferus,” I say in a low voice. “I’m sick of you trying to take things that don’t belong to you.” I raise my sword over my head and bring it down on his back, severing the wings from his body.
They don’t fall to the ground like I anticipate. My jaw drops as they float on air for a moment before following my own feathers off the bridge and disappearing into the fires below. I swear I hear a faraway scream of pain as the flames overtake them, and a chill licks my spine. I swallow.
It’s not like Father was planning to come back for them or anything.
But guilt still tugs at my chest as my bare left shoulder pulses where my own wing once perched. If Father does come back, I’ll have to answer for this.
Ferus pushes onto his knees, clutching his chest, his back bleeding and oozing from the open sutures.
“See,” I sneer. “It’s not so hard to kneel for your queen.”
He snarls but says nothing.
“Are you okay, Your Majesty?” Attero hauls Nate onto the bridge, then runs over to me.
I keep my sword trained on Ferus. “I’m fine. But can you discard this trash? Lock him in the solitary dungeons. It will be punishment enough for him to have nothing but himself for company for the rest of eternity.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Attero bows before passing me to tend to Ferus.
I rush over to Nate and stand over him, my lips pressed together. He’s splayed on his back in the middle of the bridge, panting. He stares at me, his jaw hanging open.
“I have some questions for you,” I say, helping him to his feet. “The first being ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’”
“You executed the perfect front thrust kick. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. And we’re standing in Hell.”
I hope the exertion from the fight hides my flush at the compliment. “After you showed me those movies, I did some research on techniques. Even went to a couple of martial arts classes on the mornings you slept in—which was all of them, by the way. I figured one of us should know how to do kung fu properly.”
He wraps an arm around me, taking care to avoid my still-bleeding shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were doing that?”
I shrug. “’Cause you’d have wanted to come, and that would’ve been embarrassing for me.”
“Ah.” He cocks his head and thinks for a moment before nodding. “That’s fair.”
Attero leads a now cuffed Ferus past me and hands him off to waiting souldiers. He bows from the waist before me. “Your Majesty? I think it’s time. The throne is waiting for its rightful owner.”
“That’d be great and all.” I stare down the chasm of fire. “But Ferus threw my gem away.”
“I think I can help with that.” Nate holds out his pinky finger. On it is a dainty red ring, fashioned into a heart. I’d recognize the stone anywhere. It’s close to a ruby, but nothing on Earth burns as bright. You can almost see a flame flicker within it.
My breath catches in my throat. “Where did you get that?”
“Your mom.” Nate pries the ring off his finger and holds it out. “Your father gave it to her before they broke up. She never knew what it could do until she saw yours, so it sat in a jewelry box for years. When I told her I couldn’t sit at home, she gave me her bow and told me to use the ring to get into Hell, then pass it on to you. It belongs more on your finger than hers.”
The ring blurs as tears flood my eyes. It’s better than the one Ferus pitched into the Ignis River. This ring represents the love my parents shared, no matter how brief. The love that brought me here and makes me who I am. I take it from Nate’s palm and slide it onto my finger. It’s a perfect fit. “I can’t believe she kept it.”
