Page 4 of Hell Hath No Fury (Tear Down Heaven #4)

“That doesn’t mean there’s nothing to find out,” Lys said. “We haven’t even tried the sorcerers yet. They could know—”

“If my people aren’t in Limbo, that just means Gilgamesh moved them somewhere even worse!” Bex yelled, drawing nervous looks from the scalies downstairs. “He has my horns, Lys! That means he can give orders in my name. He could be doing horrible things to my demons, and I’m just sitting around !”

Lys opened their mouth to keep arguing, but Bex stopped them with a look. “Am I still queen or not?”

“Of course you are.”

“Then we’re going,” Bex snapped. “How long will it take you to get ready?”

Lys glared at her for a moment before their shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Give me four hours.”

“Four hours it is,” Bex said as she got back to her feet. “I’ll tell the others.”

Lys dutifully bowed their small, hidden horns, but Bex had already grabbed Felix’s magic bag full of weapons and stomped down the stairs to start the long, dusty walk back to their camp.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The demons’ new home was two miles down the road in a big hayfield that separated the towering wall of the Blackwood from the little-used country road that ran along its border.

The coven owned all the land around their forest, and they’d graciously allowed the demons to stay on a portion of it.

They’d even provided tents, though Bex was pretty sure that was less about the demons’ comfort and more about avoiding trouble with the locals over thousands of strangers sleeping uncovered in a field.

The tents also let them pretend the demon camp was part of their fall festivities.

They’d even piled pumpkins at the fence gate and put up a big cooking pavilion to add to ruse, which would’ve been awesome if any demons other than Bex actually ate human food.

Since everyone was currently at the festival helping their hosts and sucking emotions out of the tourists—the only source of substantial food they’d gotten since they’d arrived a week ago—the campsite was deserted when Bex walked in.

Even the wrath demons had gone into town.

Only Zargrexa, ever dutiful, was still there, sitting in a rocking chair with a sword she’d gotten from Ishtar-knew-where, guarding what was left of her queen’s RV.

No matter how many times Bex saw it, the sight still made her wince.

Their brave little Winnebago had made it through Heaven’s bombardment and the sudden appearance of the Blackwood, but only just. It’d never taken a direct hit, but being thrown around by all those cannon blasts had snapped both axles and torn off the entire front end.

It was going to take months of repairs before it was drivable again, if it ever happened, but Iggs had absolutely refused to leave the RV behind.

Even after the witches’ sudden arrival had left it stranded in one of the towering treetops, he’d set up a pulley system to get it down and carried it through the root tunnel with the help of several other wrath demons.

The whole thing had been ridiculous and made the evacuation take twice as long as it should’ve, but Bex hadn’t said a word because she couldn’t bear to leave it behind either.

Even when it looked like a dented pile of scrap, the Winnebago was the closest thing any of them had to a home.

They were all still sleeping in it despite the holes and the busted plumbing because Bex didn’t feel safe sleeping anywhere else, and her crew slept where she did.

If they’d had a sorcerer, they might’ve been able to get the power back on, but none of the demons or the witches Iggs had talked into looking it over could make heads or tails of the cuneiform carved behind the RV’s plastic panels.

They had been able to save Norma, though.

Bex had feared the worst when she’d seen the cab.

One of the lion’s blasts had gone straight through the RV’s windshield.

If Norma had been an actual old lady, she’d be in Heaven with Gilgamesh right now, but fortunately for Bex and the others, she was a construct.

The moment they pulled the bent steering wheel out of the wreckage, she’d popped right back into existence.

She was a little glitchy—constantly asking for a destination, aggressively talking about the weather, and throwing handfuls of grandma candy at anyone who came within five feet—but just seeing her sitting in the replacement driver’s seat Iggs had rigged up for her using salvaged parts from an old tractor made Bex feel like everything wasn’t lost.

It was good to be reminded of that. She thought their plan was pretty solid, but there was no changing the fact that they were going into the lion’s den.

No amount of clever strategies could fill the gaping hole where her name used to be, or stop the sad numbness that spread through her hands whenever she tried to call her fire.

She’d honestly never felt less ready for a fight in her life, which was the only reason she’d agreed to take her demons with her.

Bex normally preferred to do the really dangerous stuff alone.

Even now that she was on her last life, she was still the toughest demon on her team, and not having to worry about anyone but herself made things less scary.

She would’ve already left if she’d thought she could survive on her own, but with no horns, no fire, no sword, no hand, and no witch in her corner, Bex’s demons were all she had left.

Fortunately, her crew was the best there was.

She was more worried that she’d be the one holding them back as she marched across the grass toward what was left of the RV’s side entrance.

Lys had already discussed their plan with Zargrexa this morning, so all Bex had to do was tell the old village chief that it was happening today.

That would’ve sparked a whole barrage of questions from anyone else, but despite the loss of her horns, the wrath demons she’d freed from Limbo had never stopped treating Bex as their queen.

The moment Bex told her the schedule, Zargrexa bowed her horns and promised to keep Ishtar’s Children safe until the queen’s return.

With that, Bex’s final duty in the Blackwood was absolved. Zargrexa and the other leaders who’d come over from the Anchor would make sure the camp kept ticking over, which meant Bex was free to make the most of the four hours Lys had given her.

She did so by climbing into the RV. The whole front end was toast, including their sitting area with the built-in table, but the back half of the kitchen was still mostly intact.

She took one more minute to send a few final texts, and then Bex put her phone on silent, set Felix’s magical weapon bag on the counter for Iggs, and went upstairs to take a nap.

It felt anticlimactic, but Bex had already learned the hard way this week that she couldn’t go nearly as long without sleep as she had before she’d lost her horns.

Rest on the battlefield was also iffy, so she was determined to get as much as she could now, forcing herself to stay in bed until there were only thirty minutes left before Lys’s deadline.

Bex used twenty of those to shower and dress for combat in her new boots, a loose-fitting set of black fatigues with plenty of cargo pockets she could stuff full of survival essentials, and a black long-sleeved shirt made from a heavy synthetic material that was supposed to be stab-proof.

She also took the med kit from her bathroom, a hundred feet of rope, a metal-handled flashlight, the black plastic box containing all their comm equipment, and her heavy combat knife.

There was no way all of that was fitting in her cargo pockets, so Bex also grabbed a backpack from her only-slightly-crushed closet.

When her combat supplies were accounted for, she filled the space she had left with bottles of water and leftover coffee-shop sandwiches from the minifridge Lys had found for her bedroom.

When the backpack was stuffed as full as she could get it, Bex topped the look off with a high ponytail and her favorite black leather bomber jacket.

That last one was a controversial choice.

Bex’s leather jacket was her longest-surviving piece of clothing.

Taking it with her now was practically guaranteeing its demise, but if this was going to be Bex’s last mission, she wanted to do it wearing something comfortable.

If nothing else, the familiar weight of the leather made her feel more at ease as she hoisted the bulging backpack onto her shoulder and tromped down the stairs to find Iggs waiting for her in what was left of the RV’s kitchen.

“Bex!” he cried excitedly, holding up the canvas knapsack she’d left for him on the counter. “Is this the thing you messaged me about earlier?”

“That’s Solomon’s Armory,” she told him with a grin. “I’m not sure how much use it’ll actually be, but Felix said—”

“Not sure how much use it’ll be?” her wrath demon repeated in horror. “What are you talking about? This thing is incredible ! Just look at this.”

He shoved his hand into the battered knapsack bag and pulled out a gun the size of a leg. Iggs’s leg, not Bex’s.

“You see?” he demanded, holding the weapon out for her to admire. “There’s like twenty of these in here! Isn’t that amazing?”

“Very,” Bex said, making appreciative noises at the costly-looking weapon. “What gun is that?”

“Heavy machine gun,” Iggs replied with a smile so giddy he looked like he was about to burst into song.

“They’re usually mounted on tanks or the decks of battleships, but Felix’s goblins must’ve taken demonic strength into account, because all the ones I’ve pulled out of the bag have shoulder straps.

” He heaved a dreamy sigh. “It’s so beautiful. They even packed us ammunition!”