Caged by Damnation (Caged #2)(16)

"When you are asking for a favor, you're supposed to say please.”

She tried to break away but his hold tightened. A sound between anguish and irritation ground out from between her lips and she turned her head to look him in the eyes.

"Please, do me a favor and go to Hell." The tone in which she said it, and the fact the Willow was the one speaking that way, brought a gasp from everyone in the clearing. Death, however, didn't seem surprised.

Death spun Willow back around to face him. Her wrist remained in his possession, but she didn't try to escape him. He sighed. "I can only hope that one day you will realize what a brat you're being right now."

He let Willow go and retreated a few feet before raising his right hand. It burst into flame, the fire bathing his hand, growing from a light yellow to a darkened crimson, before being absorbed into his body. I watched while the flames moved from his hand to his shoulder, then down his body until it disappeared into the ground below.

Death's eyes didn't leave Willow's for a second. Uneasy, I backed up until I felt Ash at my back and sank gratefully into his chest. He was shaking, his breath coming in hard gushes against my neck, and his hands tightened against my upper arms. Worried, I looked upwards to his face, but he wasn't looking at me. He was staring in the other direction; in his eyes, a fear I hadn't seen before.

I followed Ash's gaze to see the fire emerging from the Earth. It wasn't a miniature flame any longer, but was building into a raging inferno around Izzy's insubstantial feet. Suddenly, the Earth shook and the flames burst upwards to consume her whole frame. I wouldn't have been worried since Izzy was already dead, but her screams were not the screams of a dead woman. She could feel that fire.

Izzy's screams continued to block out all other sound. The fire transformed her ghostly apparition into a charred body with living eyes. In them, I could see knowledge and understanding, and the pain that came with it. She was being bathed in the flames of Hell, and Death had put her there.

I launched my body forwards and threw everything I had into challenging Death. I had to make it stop. Izzy was in agony and he had caused it. Before I could inflict pain on him, Willow launched her form against his and they flew across the clearing, slid along the ground, and slammed into a tree. She straddled his torso and began wailing her fists against him, screaming that he had to take it back.

I was surprised when the Hellhounds didn't come to his rescue, but they looked at the rest of the group uneasily, as if expecting us to attack them. Ash and Liam each grabbed hold of my arms to keep me from joining Willow's fight. It didn't take me long to realize that Death wasn't fighting back. He was simply lying, unmoving, while Willow continued her assault.

Everyone was so focused on Willow beating on Death that our focus had shifted away from Izzy. Sometime during the bizarre scene, Izzy's screams had turned from one of excruciating pain into a ghostly shriek straight out of a bad horror film.

Willow stopped mid-punch, still straddling Death, and turned to look at Izzy. The clearing went silent, as though we were caught in the eye of a storm. The charred remains of Izzy had yet to fall into a pile of ashes. Instead, they remained in the shape of a female form. She reminded me of a cracked statue that was covered in volcanic ash.

Steam rose from the ash that was once Izzy while everyone held their breath, afraid that any movement would worsen the situation and make it more real. I didn't cry. It wasn't that I didn't feel the need to, but that I was barren of feeling. I didn't have anything left to give and I think some aspect of me had to be in denial.

The soothing breeze that had swept through our group earlier was now whittling away at Izzy's mass. In sequence, everyone cried out, moving towards the remains, as if by protecting them from the wind we could somehow piece her back together. Our attempts were futile. The moment the wind brushed against her ashen form, it blew apart, and rained down to blaze against our skin.

I expected what was left of Izzy to fall into a chaotic pile. I didn't anticipate the explosion that spewed the debris in all directions. I didn't anticipate anything to be left beneath the mass of death, but when she stared into my eyes, I recognized Izzy. No longer was she her typical, teenage, gothic self, but a mature beauty that didn't resemble the Izzy I knew.

Izzy stared at us silently, seeing us, but not truly recognizing any of us. She reminded me of amnesia patients I had seen at the county hospital. There was no recognition or a sign that her personality remained.

Her graceful neck arched as she stared at each of us in turn, her crimson eyes taking in our group without processing more than the physical world. Her hair had grown to brush against her mid-thighs in a wild mass of curls. It wasn't a solid color, but an array of reds, golds, and browns. She was enveloped in a red and black silken gauze that twitched every few seconds. Her face was beautifully sculpted with a combination of intensity and perfection, her pupils transformed from the ordinary pupil of a human to a cat-like slit.

Death stood in the background. In shock, Willow had let him go. She sat at his feet with a baffled expression, as though incapable of stringing words together.

Liam was the first to voice the question that was running through all of our minds. "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything. I merely sent out a message and that …" he pointed at Izzy, "is the answer I was given."

Willow finally jolted herself from her stilted repose and turned on Death. "You told me you would give her life, not do ... this!"