Leaving on a Jet Plane
There's so many times I've let you down
So many times I've played around
I tell you now, they don't mean a thing
- John Denver

"I'm not sure why you're so insistent that I be here," Devi grumbled, gazing out the airplane window. The interior of the Gulfstream was comfortable, but its beige and cream aesthetic, benign to the point of banality, didn't offer much of interest to look at.

"Nervous, kitten?" Crowley smirked, almost fondly.

Devi gave him an aggravated look, "You're perfectly capable of handling this yourself. Hell, your minions could probably take a few vetala on their own. I should be back at the asylum, researching."

"Field testing," Crowley said. "We want know that our new recipe is effective."

"Using it on ordinary demons won't tell us anything," Devi pointed out. "The old formula was enough to kill them – even if the new one is stronger, it can't make them more dead."

"But it will show us if the new formula is weaker, which I would think is something you'd prefer to know before challenging a Knight of Hell to a round of fisticuffs," he reasoned.

Devi snorted, slumping back in the roomy leather seat. She hated when he was right.

Crowley shot her that irritating half-smile of his, the one that showed he felt he'd scored a point in this screwed-up game they seemed to be playing. Devi switched her gaze back out the window, determinedly ignoring him. She wished she'd brought a book, but Crowley insisted none of his tomes leave the library. She only had her own notes to go over, which were dishearteningly brief and which she'd already read through three times.

It seemed she wasn't the only one wrestling with boredom. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of Crowley's demons bring him a wooden case, roughly the size of a laptop. When Crowley opened it, Devi saw it contained a chessboard and figures. Oddly for a travel set, it appeared to be made out of stone: quartz and some sort of agate.

"Do you play?" Crowley asked as he began setting out the board on the table between them, having noticed her interest.

"No," Devi said shortly.

"Really?" He sounded genuinely surprised, "I would have thought this sort of thing would be right up your alley. Not to mention the matter of national pride."
Devi pursed her lips. She knew the basics of the game, but had never gotten a sense of mastery over it. She certainly wasn't going to embarrass herself by going toe-to-toe with someone who had probably been playing literally for centuries.

"I could teach you," Crowley offered.

Devi gave him a skeptical look, but as far as she could tell, he was both serious and sincere. She studied the board again. This could be an opportunity to get a glimpse of how he thought, his strategic method. She had watched her father and uncle play on occasion, and had learned to pick up on their style. "Could I watch you play yourself," she asked cautiously, "just to see how it's done?"

Crowley gave her another enigmatic half-smile and started pointing to the pieces on the board, "Sixteen pieces to a side, half of them pawns. Pawns can move forward one square, two if it's that pawn's first move, or can move one space diagonally to capture an opposing piece. Rooks," he indicated the tower, "can move forward or back, left or right, any number of unoccupied spaces. Bishops-"

"Elephants," Devi interrupted. Crowley looked at her askance, and she shrugged, "Those pieces – they used to be elephants." He raised a questioning eyebrow at her, and she shrugged again. "Just 'cause I don't play, doesn't mean I can't take some 'national pride' in the subject."

Crowley gave her a bemused smile, then shook his head, "Fair enough – suppose that's more exciting than self-important churchmen in funny hats anyway. Elephants," he emphasized the word, "can move any number of clear squares on the diagonal. Knights..." He looked up at her again, as if expecting another correction.

"Lancers on horseback, so close enough," Devi conceded.

"Knights are a bit tricky," Crowley continued. "They can move to the nearest square that's not immediately next to them in rank, file, or diagonally. Essentially, it can go two squares over and one up or down, or vise versa. Only knights can jump other pieces."

Devi frowned in concentration – knights had always been her weak point. She had more trouble visualizing their moves than the other pieces.

"The Queen can move like either a bishop and a rook," Crowley went on. "Any number of open squares in any one direction – vertical, horizontal, or diagonal – and is the most powerful piece in the game." He smirked at her slyly, "If memory serves, the queen used to be a minister or vizer, and was depicted as male until Europeans got a hold of the game."

Devi gave him a sour look.

"The King can move one square in any direction," he finished. "The goal is to capture the other side's king."

Crowley oriented the board in front of him so that the lines of white figures were on his left, black to his right, and began methodically moving pieces in turn, tilting his head now and then to view the board from either end. After a few moves this way, he made a little "tsk" of frustration, and turned the board so he was behind the black pieces. From then on, he resorted to rotating the board after each move so he could play from the appropriate end.

Devi watched for several minutes, trying to glean information. Crowley seemed to have a very calculating method of play; he took his time with each move. He must have been a master of compartmentalizing as well, because Devi never got the sense that he was anticipating the actions of whichever side he wasn't playing at moment. When she had played herself in the past, Devi found she tended to plan the moves of both sides at once so their they ended up complimenting each other, or unconsciously favored one side over the other. The way Crowley played, there were no favorites, and it seemed like each side kept its strategy separate, even secret.

The idea of secrets stirred up a question that had been floating in the back of her mind. "There's something that doesn't make sense to me," she began. "Those demons that jumped me in Georgia at the end of last year – they were from Abaddon, not you, right?" Crowley gave an affirmative hum, and she went on, "But that was before I started making a concentrated effort against her forces. In fact, I hadn't killed any demons for months at that point. So, why did she send her goons after me and how did they know where to look?"

"That would have been an excellent question to ask Bathym," Crowley observed airily. "If only someone hadn't prematurely slaughtered him in a fit of temper."

"And if I had any doubt that you hadn't already asked him that question, maybe I'd feel bad about that," Devi replied evenly.

"It might have come up," Crowley chuckled, nodding in agreement. "I don't know if you're aware, but the Red Death has declared a bit of a crusade. She's been gunning for any hunters that pose an appreciable threat to demons."

"And I was on that list? Back then?" Devi asked, feeling obscurely flattered.

"Most hunters don't specialize as you do, and many of them avoid tangling with demons altogether, if they can help it," Crowley explained. "As such, despite the brevity of your career, you have a comparable kill count to a much more experienced hunter." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "It's also quite likely some former member of my staff informed her of our previous collaboration, in which case, she may have considered your other talents either a threat to be eliminated or an asset to be acquired."

"If it was the second one, she's got an odd way of extending a job offer," Devi noted. "That still doesn't explain how they knew I was down there."

"There are a number of methods available – spells, psychics, the like," Crowley shrugged. "Though how something like that could get through the layers of warding on your car is a wonder, unless you were away from your vehicle for an extended period of time."

Devi said nothing to this, looking away. Spending over a month in the middle of the Okefenokee definitely counted as "away from her vehicle."

"Well, wherever you were, I hope it was worth it," Crowley went on carelessly. "Kevin was even more sullen than usual after you left. And after all the work I did getting the two of you together."

"What?" Devi looked back at him sharply. "What are you talking about?"

Crowley gave her a sly smile, "Just a nudge or two in the right direction, to get you two to act on the painfully obvious."

"You're saying... all that crap where you made him mad on purpose, and bringing up what happened with me the year before..." Devi sputtered, furious. The thought of Crowley interfering in something that personal was nauseating, and the methods he'd used: cruelty was the only word for it.

"I had to do something," Crowley argued. "Otherwise, the pair of you were just going to keep making sheep's eyes at each other from across the room, and that was beginning to be insufferable."

"The King of Hell reduced to playing matchmaker," Devi snarled. "That's quite a come-down."

"What else was I going to do for entertainment down there?" he shrugged.

"Hmm, and it must have taken forever to hit on the idea of putting us together, seeing as we were the only people in the bunker at the time," Devi noted tartly.

"Well, I was there,"he pointed out.

"You're not people," she snapped.

"It was a more interesting prospect anyway," Crowley grinned wickedly. "A Prophet and a seer – who knows what might have come of such a pairing. No hope of that now, though, unless..."

"Words cannot describe how much that is none of your business," Devi gritted out, turning in her seat so her back was to him. A slight tremor ran through the plane as it hit a patch of turbulence; out the window, she could see they were decreasing altitude, and guessed the Louisville airport was at hand.

Glancing back at the chessboard, Devi noted Crowley seemed to have played himself to a standstill. White had a more pieces left, but black had the advantage of still having both knights on the board. Depending on the rules he was playing by, it was either a draw or a possible checkmate for black, if white were to play carelessly.

Alighting from the jet, Devi saw a shiny black Escalade waiting for them; getting in, she was greeted by another den of beige leather. All the money in the world, and this is the pinnacle of design? she wondered. Looking to the driver's seat, she was surprised to find Lucas at the wheel. She hadn't seen him on the jet, but she supposed he might have been up in the cockpit with the pilots.

A chilly silence descended in the car as they left town, heading for the mountains. Devi was still seething over Crowley's wanton manipulations in months past. She barely noticed as the buildings and houses thinned out, replaced more and more by broad stretches of open fields, some tilled and some left fallow, then by wooded lots, until finally they were driving through unbroken forest. Long aisles of gray-brown trunks marched away from the road, with little undergrowth in between.

The Escalade pulled to a stop in a small gravel lot, a cluster of half a dozen other demons waiting at a trailhead. Crowley stepped out as soon as Lucas opened the door and went to speak with the one who appeared to be in charge. Devi let herself out, looking around uncertainly. She still wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing here, but she assumed she should be ready for a fight. She readjusted the leather strap across her chest so it lay more comfortably over her shoulder, and closely studied Crowley's group of demons, so as not to mistake one of them for an enemy. She doubted an incident of friendly fire would go over well.

Crowley nodded to his underlings and walked back to her, looking serious. "The vetala are set up in a cavern a little ways off the trail," he told her. "Some of Abbadon's people are there now, arranging some kind of trade."

"We have a headcount?" Devi asked.

"Five vetala that we've seen so far," he advised. "And five of Abbadon's lot – no one too remarkable, though."

Devi frowned, "Don't vetala typically hunt in pairs?"

"Typically, yes," Crowley agreed. "Which suggests there may be more of them hidden in the cavern."

"Fantastic," she sighed. "How far up are they?"

"About two miles – you have a bit of a walk." He gave a thin smile, "Perhaps it would have been prudent of you to wear sturdier shoes."

"Perhaps it would have been prudent of you to mention that before we left the asylum," Devi snapped back. She heard a soft snort of amusement behind her, but when she turned to look, Lucas was completely straight-faced and taking a sudden interest in the trees across the lot. "How are you getting up?" she said, turning back to Crowley, but he was already gone. "Right," she said through gritted teeth, and started up the trail.

It was a well-maintained path, and after walking a bit to warm up, Devi eased into a steady run. Her shoes, whatever Crowley may have thought, were designed for trail running, and she was able to set a good pace without worrying too much about twisting an ankle.

She had settled comfortably into a rhythm when a dark-clad arm shot out in front of her as she rounded a bend in the trail. Instinctively, she ducked under it, sliding to a stop and twisting around in one movement. She had one blade half out of the sheath before registering Crowley standing against the broad trunk of hickory tree.

"What the hell!" she demanded.

He held a finger to his lips. "We're just below the cavern entrance. I thought you might prefer not to rush right in."

Devi pressed her lips together irately, but he had a point. She hadn't been running heedlessly per se; it just hadn't felt nearly long enough to be two miles. "Next time you jump me like that, I will shank you," she said. "What's the plan?"

"We have a stave set around the whole hillside which will keep any of them from flitting away," Crowley explained as they headed up to slope. "As far as we can tell, there's only one entrance to the cave, so we should be able to catch them neatly."

"'As far as you can tell'?" Devi was skeptical. "Has no one mapped the cavern?"

"Haven't had the chance, since it's been full of vetala the last few months, and wasn't sufficiently interesting before that," he shrugged, as they reached the cave entrance. His squad of fighters was waiting for them.

"Not you specifically," Devi rolled her eyes. "I mean, this is a national forest – hasn't it been surveyed?"

"Not this one," Crowley said. "There's scores of caves in the area."

"So we're going in blind, and we're fighting them on their own ground, which we know nothing about?" she clarified.

At that point, one of Crowley's demons piped up, "I thought you were supposed to be able to sense demons nearby."

Devi shot Crowley an annoyed look – she wasn't surprised he'd given away her secret, but she could still be mad about it – before turning to glare at the speaker. "I can sense demons nearby. In fact, I'm sensing demons nearby right now," she retorted. "Care to guess why?"

Crowley ran a hand over his beard thoughtfully, "Can't you tell individuals apart?"

Devi gave a long-suffering sigh; she really didn't want to have this conversation at all, and certainly not here and now, with an audience. Disregarding the question, she steadied her thoughts, intentionally focusing on her sense of demonic presence. Having been surrounded by them for so many weeks, she'd gotten in the habit of ignoring the warning feeling as much as possible. Now that she was trying, she could pick out the six of Crowley's fighters around her, solid pillars of blackness pressing on her mind. She could feel the five of Abbadon's minions in the caverns, spread out in twos and threes, a couple nearer to the cave opening and the rest further inside. Now that she was intent on them, one of the three did seem, not bigger exactly, but as if its darkness was denser, heavier than the others. It was a subtle difference, one she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been looking for it.

She hadn't registered that some demons felt different when she sensed them like this. Perhaps the demons she'd encountered so far had all been close enough in strength that she hadn't caught on, but surely some, like the one who'd lead the charge on the temple in Chattanooga, would have stood out. Then again, she hadn't really been relying on her demon sense at the time. Normally, just knowing they were around and in what general direction was enough to put her on guard, and she relied on her natural senses after that.

Curious, she cast the sense back behind her, where Crowley had been standing. A shudder ran through her soul. There were places among the stars, black pits in space and time that not a breath of air or the faintest spark of light could escape. There was one behind her now: a yawning chasm of utter emptiness, of crushing darkness that was more than a mere absence of light. Growing, devouring, but not living - an entity of pure nullification, a not-being.

How could she not have noticed? How could she not have felt him half a state away? It should have cast a pall on the whole mountain, but it was somehow contained in a single, man-sized space three feet behind and to her left. Even as she focused on it, her sense seem to slip, as if she couldn't get purchase on such complete desolation; instead of drawing her in, the darkness drove her back, her mind pulling away from comprehending or even remembering it.

Devi opened her eyes with a gasp, stumbling to one side as she instinctively flinched away. She caught hold of a nearby tree and managed to steady herself, looking up to see the demon that had spoken wearing a dubious expression. "There's two waiting near the entrance, while whoever's in charge is further in with the other two, probably driving the deal," Devi explained, gathering her composure. "If we go in quietly, we may be able to deal with them separately."

"What about the vetala?" the demon asked skeptically.

"I imagine they're in there, too," Devi observed wryly.

The demon looked ready to argue, but Crowley intervened, "They're just monsters. You've all been given silver blades; stab to the heart and twist, it's not that hard."

Devi inhaled sharply at this revelation, but said nothing, raising her eyebrows innocently when Crowley turned to look at her. "Cutting the head off works pretty well, too," she said in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

"That sort of thing generally does," he allowed, still looking suspicious. "I would prefer you focus on the demons proper, though. That is why you're here." She nodded, and he went on, with the barest hint of a smirk, "Going in quietly seems like a good idea. Why don't you show us how it's done?"

Devi gave him a withering look, exhaled her irritation noisily, and headed toward the mouth of the cave. Crowley's demons stepped out of her way, wearing expressions of relief, boredom, and, for the demon who'd argued with her, smug cynicism.

She paused just inside the entrance, listening intently as she waited for her eyes to adjust. There was a rank smell of reptile in the air, with the sweeter, more nauseating stench of rotting flesh creeping underneath. She tilted her head and caught the sibilant whisper of sand sliding over stone. The demons weren't this close to the cave opening - she could sense that much - which meant it was either a natural air current moving grit around or a vetala. Banking on the latter, Devi shifted towards the nearest wall, drew one of her daggers, the one without basilisk venom. She stayed still, waiting in the shadows with the blade held sideways across her chest.

The shape of a young woman materialized out of the deeper gloom, walking slowly. It was too dim to make out the features of the face, but Devi thought she could see the lines of scales gleaming in the faint light. The creature came almost level with her and stopped, a forked tongue emerging between its lips and flicking through the air. It seemed to startle at what it scented, and Devi heard its sharp intake of breath right before she slammed her blade into its back. The air left its lungs in a raspy, rattling exhale as it toppled forward, landing half in and half out of the cave. Devi leaned back out enough to see the reaction from Crowley's demons; the one that had argued with her had to jump to one side to avoid having the carcass land on him.

"That's how it's done," she quipped, before ducking back inside.

She faintly heard Crowley instructing his men behind her. She moved forward slowly, relying on her ears more than anything. Hearing one of Crowley's men draw level with her, she put out a hand, stopping him with a touch on the arm. She could just see the outline of his head as he tilted it questioningly towards her; she tapped him on the arm twice and pointed forward and to the right, gesturing to indicate a bend in the path. He nodded, waved one of his fellows forward, and then looked back at her.

Devi drew her other dagger, holding both blades defensively in front of her, and stalked to the twist in passage; the two demons followed quietly, though not as quietly as she would like. There was a faint light ahead and she could hear voices, becoming steadily clearer. The speakers were obviously not worried about being heard.

"What's taking so long?" one asked.

"It's a large item, I hear," another replied. "It'll be a job figuring how to get it out intact."

"I wish they would hurry up," the other complained. "It's cold in here, and the company leaves a lot to be desired."

There was a soft thump, followed immediately by a petulant "Ow!" and the light wobbled.

"Why don't you say it a little louder, jerkwad?" the second voice snapped. "You want this deal to fall through?"

"I don't see what's so important about-"

What the first demon didn't see as important remained a mystery, as Devi's right dagger through his lung left him unable to finish his sentiment. He gasped and swayed on his feet, dropping the electric lantern he'd been holding as energy sputtered around the blade in his back. Devi drew the knife out as she stepped forward, already squaring up against the other speaker. He was fumbling in his coat for something. He barely got the object, an angel blade, out of its pocket before Devi drove her own dagger into his stomach. Again, there was a soft crackling of energy, a faint flickering glow like embers under the skin. When she pulled the knife out, the flesh around the wound was seared and shriveled as if she had stabbed him with a red-hot poker.

Looks like that's a "yes" on Garuda feathers, she thought. A snarling hiss to her side startled her, and she snapped her gaze around to see another vetala rush from a side passage, claws and fangs bared. One of Crowley's demons intercepted it, ramming a gleaming switchblade into its chest and twisting it. The creature gave a rasping groan, pale eyes wide as its skin shrunk and desiccated, turning the color of dead grass. It dropped to the cave floor and lay still. Devi gave a nod to her ally, and moved to the entrance of the side passage the vetala had emerged from.

"Leave it," she heard Crowley say behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "We need to stay on task," he went on, directing two of his demons to the passage with a nod and walking over to the corpses of the two Devi had killed. He picked up the lantern and examined the faintly smoking wounds with satisfaction, "It appears basilisk venom works a treat."

"Afraid not," Devi answered, holding up her left dagger, the one with the basilisk venom-tainted poison, which was still unstained. "I haven't used it yet." Crowley frowned, perplexed, and Devi explained her plan of having one knife with basilisk venom and one without. "You did say you wanted field-testing" she pointed out. "Any hypothesis has to be falsifiable in order to be properly tested."

"Arguably, but I believe we already know what your original recipe does," Crowley noted, frowning at the corpse. "Though I must say, I don't recall Bathym's injury being this severe."

"Oh, well, he was probably stronger than these guys," Devi offered, backpedaling. She'd just remembered Crowley was under the impression that the Garuda feathers were part of the original formula, and she wanted to keep it that way. "After all, he was highly ranked, right?"

"I suppose…" Crowley allowed, looking unconvinced.

"Anyway," Devi went on, pushing past him, "Two of each down, three of each to go, hopefully." She narrowed her eyes, looking toward the far wall where the broad passage of the cave continued. "Three more demons, at least. I guess we just keep following the main branch?" She stepped forward without waiting for an answer, trying to regain her focus. The first foray hadn't made too much noise, but it was possible the next opponents wouldn't be so heedless.

She crept down the main tunnel, blinking to readjust her eyes to the dark and straining to hear anything ahead. With the party of demons behind her, it was a little difficult to determine if the prickling of warning in her skin was due to them or Abbadon's crew, but it set her on edge regardless. There was no light behind, so Crowley had either left the lantern or turned it off; she wondered if he even needed it to see down here.

It wasn't light or sound that caught her attention, but the faint smell of woodsmoke. Another turn in the tunnel showed a flickering red glow ahead. Devi felt her heart rate pick up, and she took a slow, deep breath, readjusting her grip on her daggers as she waited for Crowley's demons to catch up. The cave made the voices echo strangely, making it hard to pick out words. One sounded smooth, suave and confident - the voice of one used to getting their way. The other was… unpleasant wasn't quite the right word. There was nothing unbearable about the slow, soft rasp, but it was unsettling, like the sound of something moving stealthily through tall grass.

"We were promised more than this," it said, its gentleness sounding more like warning than reassurance.

"And it will be delivered," the debonair voice soothed, "Just as soon as we're certain of the value of what you're offering. If we could just see part of-"

"No," the husky voice said firmly. "The value in a secret is in its keeping. If you wish to see, you must pay."

Devi crept closer, pressing herself against the wall of the tunnel and peering around the edge of the opening. Beyond was a broad, high-ceilinged chamber, illuminated dimly by a low fire on the far side. In front of the fire was an old woman in a long dress of ivory-colored cotton, seated on an elaborate chair made of peeled vinewood twined together. Long, gray hair lay in loose plaits over each shoulder, and dark, deep-set eyes peered out from a face the color and texture of old parchment. There were four younger women, two to either side; the expression in their glassy gray eyes was cold and cynical, and their posture suggested a fierce intent that contrasted oddly with the older woman's repose.

Three demons stood before the chair, their spokesman between and slightly ahead of the other two. "Abbadon wants this resolved as soon as possible," he said, a tad peevishly.

The old woman blinked slowly and gave a thin-lipped smile, "Then you had better meet the agreed terms. It would be a shame if-" The woman stopped mid-sentence, attention snapped to the entryway into the cavern, and let out a long, guttural hiss.

Devi clamped down on the immediate instinct to duck back into hiding, instead surging forward toward the three demons, who had not yet realized they were under attack. She drove her right dagger into the nearest, kicking another to the far wall, and slashing the third, the one who'd been negotiating, across the chest with her left.

There was no sizzle of energy from him, but he looked down at his chest, took one hiccupping breath, and then began to scream. He screamed longer than Devi would have thought he'd have air for, the sound multiplying as it reverberated off the cavern walls. The demon dropped to his knees, eyes wild with pain as his fingers scrabbled at the gash on his chest, clawing at it as if it burned. At last he ran out of air, stopping long enough to gulp a few more breaths. He closed his eyes a moment, as if gathering himself, then black smoke began to pour out of his mouth.

"No, you don't!" Devi shouted, stabbing her other dagger into his arm.

The smoke halted, then moved agonizingly backwards into the body, as if it was being dragged. As soon as it was back in place, he started wailing again, dropping onto his side and digging his nails into the wound on his chest. "Make it stop! Kill me, make it stop!" he pleaded.

Devi stepped back, perplexed and not a little horrified. Basilisk venom in her poison clearly didn't make for an effective devil's trap, but it certainly wasn't doing him any favors. The demon she had kicked away had a similar expression. He took one look at her and bolted for the way out. Unfortunately for him, it was blocked by Crowley's squad.

Devi turned to pursue him, but was knocked to the floor by the force of another body. A vetala, waiting unnoticed in an alcove, had flung itself forward as Devi passed. She landed with it on top of her, fangs bared and clawed fingers seeking her throat. She stabbed upward with both daggers into the left side of its chest, twisting the blades as well as she could between the ribs. The vetala went rigid, collapsing on top of her. She shoved it off as an unearthly shriek rang out behind her.

One of the four vetala by the fire darted towards her with it face twisted in fury, calling out a name as it fell on Devi. It got one good slash at her ribs before she managed to jam her dagger through its collarbone. Keeping it at a distance with one arm, she kicked it squared in the chest, slamming it against the cave wall. Devi was on it in an instant, slamming her other blade into its heart. It crumbled to the cavern floor.

Turning, she saw the old woman standing with hands clenched, jaw working, "You will pay for the death of my daughters, dakini!"

As Devi watched, the old woman's dark eyes seemed to widen, the face lengthening back and upwards from the nose. Hair turned slick and heavy, flaring out from the crown of the head and curving back in to seal against the skin of the neck. The flowing ivory skirt rippled and thickened, clinging to legs and a waist that swayed and writhed as if they were all joints, emerging in a tail twenty feet long, thick as a tree trunk, and the color of old bones. The woman's wide sleeves fell back, revealing arms that became more gaunt by the second as long, lean fingers arched and hardened into talons. A hiss so loud and low it was almost a growl echoed from unhinged jaws as two sets of curving fangs emerged from the roof of its mouth.

By this point, the three other vetala had joined the fray, hurling themselves at Crowley's demons. Devi saw the demon that had argued with her outside the cave seize a vetala by its hair from behind, stabbing his blade into its back. He must have missed the heart, as it failed to shrivel to a husk, howling in pain as it slashed blindly over its shoulder at him. The vetala matriarch streaked across the cavern like a whiplash, seizing the demon in its talons and sinking all four fangs into the back of his neck. He screamed as it lifted him off his feet and savagely bit into his body again and again

Devi was sure she heard several of his ribs crack as she rushed towards the monstrous half-snake. She lunged with her left dagger, catching it in the side, but she was too low to reach the heart. The matriarch reared back from the strike, towering over Devi as it flung the broken demon to the side. Its blood on her dagger blade hissed and sputtered like oil on a skillet, and the fury in its eyes became wild with pain. Its tail thrashed through the cavern, dashing friend and foe alike against the stone walls. Devi flung herself forward and rolled out of the way, but the matriarch threw a coil around her waist, pulling her to itself. She stabbed at it again, this time with her right, but it caught her wrist, forcing the blade away and wrapping its other hand around her throat.

Devi saw the vast, open maw, greyish-pink flesh glistening wetly, striking at her unprotected face. She jerked to the side just in time, and the fangs struck her outstretched arm instead, just at the shoulder. The piercing pain of the teeth themselves were nothing compared to the acrid burn of the venom boiling in her blood. Devi felt her muscles seize up in shock, and she almost lost her grip on the dagger. Her head swimming, she tried to force the blade back toward the matriarch's chest. It hissed in pleasure, its jaws still latched onto her arm, and chuckled around the blood in its mouth at her feeble attempts. The coils around her middle tightened, her spine creaking in protest as it drew her closer.

The triumph gleaming in the matriarch's eyes turned to shock, then anguish. Devi had reached around behind it and stabbed her left dagger into its back. The fire in its eyes flickered, then turned cold as the cunning went out of its face. Its jaws clamped down tighter on her shoulder as the muscles in its tail twitched erratically, causing the whole creature to jerk and writhe against the floor. Devi clenched her teeth, and twisted the blade for all she was worth. A long, rasping exhale, reeking of death, came from matriarch's mouth as the slit pupils of its gray eyes filmed over, and the great, fearsome form finally went limp.