Dark Hope (The Devil's Assistant) by H.D. Smith Page B

have him. He was mine. I lunged forward ready to attack. I stopped when a sharp pain bent me double as the spell unraveled, taking the agony as it fell away.
    I straightened. Any good feelings I had for Charles were gone. How ? The whammy. The reversal happened the same way in the Maze, from bake sale to dull reality. With Charles, one minute I’m willing to kill for his love, the next I’m seeing his true form and hating him. Magic nulling? Another new ability?
    My eyes focused on Charles. His veil was gone too; only the demon remained.
    “You idiot,” he spat, shoving Cinnamon away.
    Oblivious to his anger, she scurried forward to the dancing maidens.
    Charles rounded on me. He smelled of fire and brimstone, all sweetness gone.
    “I can see you,” I warned.
    His expression changed into a smug scowl. He glanced back at Cinnamon, who was dancing and twirling near us. “You’ll never convince her.”
    He was right. Cinnamon was still trapped by the illusion, and he wasn’t going to let either of us walk out of here. She needed to wake up from la-la-land and take control of the situation.
    Wake up. Yeah . That was exactly what she needed to do. The man in the Maze—he’d said I’d woken him. Could de-spelling her be that simple? Did I have that power? The man from the Maze seemed to think so.
    Would it work every time? What if there were consequences? Did I care if there were consequences?
    The weight of the sentry’s hands pressed on my shoulders. Charles sneered. He didn’t see me as a threat. The sentry’s hands tightened. I looked up into his eyes; they were empty. Was he under the same spell? Purposefully I touched his hand. A tiny static shock went between us. The same had happened in Hell, Montana. I gasped when his eyes rolled back, and he dropped to the ground like a stone.
    I stood there gaping for a moment, then remembered something similar happening to the man in the Maze.
    “What the hell?” Charles blurted, eyeing the sentry’s crumpled body.
    Cinnamon was only a few feet away. I darted around Charles and ran for her.
    “Come, Claire,” she said. “Come dance with me.”
    I reached for her.
    She stretched out her hand, then whipped it back and spun around laughing.
    Ugh . Could she at least help me save her?
    “Come, join me Claire.”
    I took another step forward. Charles spun on his heels and grabbed me before I could get to her. I struggled to wrench away, but he was stronger. He growled, yanking me closer. I twisted back toward Cinnamon.
    “Cinnamon,” I snapped, getting her attention. “Dance with me,” I begged, stretching out my hand for her.
    Her face lit up. She stopped spinning long enough to move near my outstretched hand. Charles’s grip tightened, but before he could drag me back, I lunged. Our fingertips brushed lightly, and a small static charge passed between us.
    Charles jerked me around to face him.
    Cinnamon’s body hit the ground behind me with a thud.
    Charles’s shocked gaze landed on me. “What are you?” he muttered.
    Sadly, I didn’t know anymore. “I’m the Devil’s assistant,” I said, as if that explained it—but it didn’t. These abilities were new. I was different. How much different—I had no clue.
    The vein on the side of his neck pulsed. His nails dug into my arm. I ignored him.
    The sentry was standing, rubbing the back of his neck. His wide-eyed stare was confused and scared as it flitted around the courtyard.
    Charles was oblivious to the man’s distress. He shoved me at the confused sentry. “Take her to the dungeon,” Charles barked.
    The sentry’s eyes were fearful. I don’t think he knew what to do.
    “Run,” I commanded, nodding at the front gate.
    He studied the gates for a second then took off. He didn’t get far before Charles threw his will at the fleeing sentry. Several maidens screamed as the guard went flying through the air, crashing into the minstrels.
    Another sentry hurried forward, but before Charles could give him