Sunny - Mona Lisa Blossoming

You could have said he was injured but not dead. But that wasn't true. He was dead. His heart didn't beat, his lungs did not take in air. And yet… he wasn't really dead as humans defined it. He still… existed, would be the best word. And I was going to try my damn best to see that he continued to exist.

Halcyon, gentleman that he was, said and did nothing to worsen my discomfort. He stayed still and quiet as I found a clean spot on my T-shirt, dampened it, and used it to lightly scrub the bite mark on his neck. I started from the top and worked my way down, pouring water directly onto his chest wounds and patting the slivers of raw meat gently dry. He didn't make a sound, even though it must have pained him. Didn't say anything, mindful of nearby ears. But his face was soft, his eyes warm, his expression tender as he watched me minister to him. When I was done, after I'd helped him step into Aquila's clean clothes, he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it gently. No one did it as naturally, as gracefully as Halcyon accomplished the gesture, like something sweet and natural. But then he'd had over six hundred years of practice.

My shoulder throbbed like a bitch, leading to the twenty-thousand-dollar question: Where was a healer when you needed one? Ding, ding, ding. The answer: Back home, protected like the prized resource she was. But, hey, at least I could use my arm.

The men came up to me, one by one, offering their treasures. Amber gave me his great sword, his precious baby, his faithful companion for over a hundred years. The gesture touched me. How could it not? But his sword was too big for me to heft, too awkward to swing with my injured arm. I ended up taking Tomas's shorter, more manageable sword, and Aquila's curved hunting knife, its silver blade almost a foot long; big enough to take off a head if I needed to, a nice backup for the sword.

There was only one way to kill the demon dead that I knew of. Hack them to pieces. And even then they didn't die. Of course, that was assuming I'd get to them first before I, myself, was hacked to pieces by them. And, come to think of it, they didn't even need to hack. Just tear me apart, limb by limb. They were strong enough to do it.

I felt like a kid being sent off to summer camp. You know, one of those sleepaway thingies, parents all teary-eyed, the kid all clingy. I'd never been away on one, but every kid watched television. Only the tone was much more somber, funereal even; they weren't expecting me back. I was going to try to surprise them.

I hugged Amber, felt his big arms engulf me, surrounding me all too briefly in warmth and safety. Being held by him always felt like home.

Gryphon, my heart, gave me a gentle kiss, so at odds with his terribly tormented eyes. "Come back to me," he whispered.

"I will try. With everything that is within me," I promised.

Chami, Aquila, and Tomas—my people, all so dear to me. I hugged them, kissed their cheeks, gave them a wavering smile. Even managed to ignore Aquila's nudity. The trick, I found, was pretending that he wasn't naked.

Tears threatened and I blinked them back. "Watch over the others for me until I return."

They bowed, said as one, "Yes, my Queen."

I saw in Chami's eyes his personal promise to me to protect Thaddeus.

My eyes softened as Dontaine stepped forward last. "Dontaine, it makes me so happy to know that I chose the right man for the job." I squeezed his hand softly and smiled warmly up into his beautiful green eyes. "Thank you for not disappointing me."

"You are a Queen worthy to serve." He bowed and stepped back.

I sought out Gerald and Miguel next. "Thank you for your aid this night and for caring for your Queen so well. Please communicate to Mona Carlisse my deep gratitude."

Miguel dipped his head.

Gerald gave a courtly bow, executed as gracefully as if he were fully clothed.

Goodbyes were said. Enough time had passed for eulogies to have already been written are recited. Morbid thought.

I took a deep breath and turned to Halcyon. "Shall we?"

The Demon Prince nodded. Together we hobbled toward the wall of mist, arms around each other. My knife was clutched in the hand wrapped around Halcyon's waist, and the sword gripped by my right one.

I stepped into that nasty white fuzz quickly. It was like pulling off a Band-Aid. Some people did it slowly, stretching out the hurt. I preferred ripping it off in one bold tear. Same thing with this portal. If I were alone, I wouldn't have entered it so eagerly; they'd have had to drag me into it. But I had an audience, people I wanted to spare. I didn't want to start screaming horribly like I was being torn apart while they were still watching. A lousy last impression, you know.

It sucked us in, swallowed us up, and started stinging like a fucking son of a bitch. White stabs of agony, lancing jolts of pain, like I was being zapped by something with more juice than Chernobyl and its twin sister. It was a terrible punishing force.

Then we were falling. And I was screaming and screaming.

That gut-puking, nauseating pain miraculously stopped halfway down and I knew that Halcyon was somehow insulating me from it. Let me tell you something: The absence of pain is a wonderful thing. And let me tell you another thing: People were wrong. Hell wasn't what waited for you. It was the trip down. Once you got there, it wasn't really that bad.

Then we hit the ground with a jarring crash and I had to revise my opinion. The good news was that I hadn't accidentally stabbed either Halcyon or myself in that teeth-rattling landing. Jesus Christ, I hoped touchdown wasn't like this all the time or I wasn't coming down here again. No, sirree. The bad news was that my right arm was numbed by agony for a moment. Yeah, numbed. When white-hot pain rips through your shoulder and bursts out like an exploding supernova through the rest of the body, you don't feel anything but the pain. It becomes so great that your nerve endings shut down and stop transmitting, sort of like a throwing a breaker switch.

I couldn't tell if I'd dropped my sword or not. I looked down and realized that I still held it in my right hand, even though I couldn't feel myself gripping it. But okay, sword in one hand, numb or not, knife in the other. We were good to go. And as soon as I got my breath back, I'd get us to our feet. In a moment, or two, or three.

The thing you noticed about Hell, other than the pain—but that was internal, my own injuries, my fault, you know, not Hell's—was the heat. Dry heat, almost smothering, like in the desert. The next thing that you noticed was the odd, muted lighting. It was forever twilight down in this other realm. And muted was another good description. There were no sounds, other than my heart that seemed to beat as loudly as a dinner bell, and my harsh breathing, the rush of air in and out of my body. The sounds of life. There were no other sounds of life but for my little loud self. In the deafening silence, I could hear the rush of my blood, the pumping of my heart spurting that rich red liquid into my arteries, pushing it through my veins. Even my pale white skin glowed like a neon "come and eat me" sign.

And come they did. Various faces emerged out of the twilight darkness, all in shades of brown, from light tan to dark brown. Male and female. I felt like a Pale Face surrounded by Apaches about to be scalped. Only these were demon dead. They were going to do far worse than scalp me. Fangs emerged, saliva glistened, dark eyes gleamed, light eyes glittered. I could feel their unthinking hunger for my tender, living flesh like a beating presence, could almost taste their dry thirst for my fresh red blood.

"Uh, Halcyon." With great effort, motivated by a strong survival instinct, I got us both to our feet. To say Halcyon didn't look too good was a vast understatement. His head lolled against my shoulder and his eyes were closed, as if the trip down had worn him out. As if he'd used up all his energy to shield me from the pain. A heroic gesture, that, but I'd have rather taken the pain and had him a little fresher and stronger while meeting his subjects. They didn't look too loyal at the moment. Just hungry. Hungry enough to tear me apart, gulp me down, and then start on him afterward for dessert.