Before her, Viansa’s eyes widened, black hair whipping around her face, her lithe body barely able to stand upright inside the tempest of Jaci’s unfathomable power.
“Quit fucking around, Lab Rat!” Viansa shouted. She tried to call up her hellfire, but in the wake of Jaci’s magic, it fizzled in her hands. “I mean… Sorry.Jacinda.”
“No, Lab Rat is just fine,” Jaci said. “Iama lab rat. A creation forged in hell.Thisis what you and our mother made. Andthisis the fate you brought upon yourself.”
She lifted her hands once more. Let the hellfire dance between them, the magic swirling around her. And then, for just a moment, she looked deep into the eyes of the so-called sister who’d never known the true meaning of family, willing herself to find even amodicumof sympathy.
“Please,” Viansa whispered, her eyes flooding with genuine tears. Maybe even a hint of regret.
There was a time when Jaci might’ve given in. Tried to talk things out.
But like Cole said, not everyone could be saved. Not everyone deserved to be redeemed.
Sometimes, you just had to put on your shit-stomping boots and take out the damn trash.
Jaci shook her head. Smiled one last, brilliant, star-bright smile for Viansa—the last thing the succubus would ever see.
And then, she unleashed hell.
The magic flowed through her palms, slamming into Viansa’s chest in a burst of silver and blue hellfire.
It split the succubus in two, melting the skin from her body, boiling her blood, setting her bones on fire.
It was terrible and gruesome. The smell of death nearly overwhelmed her.
But Jaci didn’t let up.
For her father, for Aiden, for Gabriel, for all the innocent humans Viansa had killed in New York, she didn’t let up.
For herself, she didn’t let up. Not until her limbs trembled and her magic fizzled and she barely had the strength to stand.
* * *
In the end, there was nothing left of the demon. Not even a pile of ash. Not even a shadow. Not even a memory.
Viansa, terrorizer of New York City, goddess among mages, hijacker of minds, original succubus, first of her kind, was finally gone.
And Jaci, conjurer of darkness, witch-demon-hybrid lab rat, plant-whisperer, and kickass bartender to the supernatural elite, had never felt so fucking alive.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gabriel couldn’t decide which was worse—the incessant ringing in his head, the acrid smell of charred demon flesh searing his lungs, or the blood-red smirk of the female demon in a blue pinstripe suit, glaring down at him from atop a pile of smoldering bones.
Behind her, the child hovered close, haunting as ever.
He got to his feet, tried to shake off the ringing. It faded a bit, but left a monstrous fucking headache behind, so intense it made him dizzy.
And speaking of fucking headaches…
“Gabriel Redthorne,” the demoness purred, carefully picking her way through the bones in a pair of spiked red heels. If she noticed the child following her, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Young prince of House Redthorne, son of the fallen king, brother to the new. At this rate, I’ll have the complete set in no time.”
Fuck.
The woman needed no introduction. One look at that raven hair, and Gabriel knew.
“Ah, themother,” he said with a sneer. “I’d hoped we might pass through unmolested by the likes of you.”
“The mother?” She waved away the word, batting her long lashes. “So cold and unfeeling. I have a name, vampire.”
