The End of the World As I Know It (The Ghosts & Demons Series Book 2) Read Free Page A

father.
    Lesson 95: after you’ve done battle with demons and survived, you realize what you’re really capable of. My private mission is to avenge Brad’s death. Peter Smythe killed him so he has to die. I guess a lot of us want to murder our fathers, so most of you aren’t very shocked, right?
    Lesson 96: when you ruin your daughter’s life, you don’t get to be called Daddy anymore. I have no idea what turned Peter Smythe against the human race. Don’t really care, either. He must die. Okay? Just so we’re clear.
    Deep cleansing breath.
    I opened my eyes and stared into the Well of Sorrows. Its surface was shimmering gold again.
    The right question is…?
    “It’s not Peter Smythe, so who is buried in my father’s grave?”
    Peter Smythe’s face emerged from the well’s shimmering surface and stared at me. I shrieked, of course. You would, too.
    The shrieking went on for a while. When I was done with that and panting for air, he was still staring at me. It was a liquid representation of him in 3D, of course. Still, don’t laugh. It was freaky, especially when the face changed to a demon’s face with wide yellow eyes. Instead of eyebrows, it had a line of small, jagged horns along the ridge of his brow. Each came to a point, like filed teeth.
    “Where is Peter Smythe at this moment?”
    The Well showed nothing.
    I repeated the question.
    Still nothing.
    “Does that mean you don’t know or — ”
    The Well became a fountain. It was pretty for a moment. Then the wall of water reached out with a quick, hot hand and slapped me across the face so hard I fell to the ground.
    When I pulled myself to my feet, golden water ran down my body in thick rivulets, more viscous than water. My body shook with revulsion.
    The Well of Sorrows isn’t like a computer screen showing you a Google calendar of events or Tumblr photos documenting how you spent your summer holidays. It’s a living thing that apparently watches everything and records it. It’s a creature , like the NSA, but slightly less scary and powerful.
    I received a message before the creature unwrapped itself from my ankle and slithered back to its home in the well. The message was unspoken, more like an inkling of a coming storm from a sudden change in wind direction.
    “He’s not on Earth,” I said. “Peter Smythe’s beyond the veil. He’s in Ra, isn’t he?”
    The liquid retreated, back to the well. I got the distinct impression it was waiting to slap me again.
    “Can you show me where he is in Ra?”
    Nothing.
    I didn’t want to get another slap down, so I took the hint and didn’t ask again. Peter Smythe was apparently beyond the creature’s sight.
    “How about Ra? Can you show me what Ba’al’s kingdom looks like, past the bridge between dimensions?”
    Hell.
    I saw it briefly. You don’t have to look at Hell long to know what it is. You don’t want to look long.
    There are legions of demon soldiers driven mad with fury. It’s not all fire. I saw volcanos and molten lava, but endless fields of ice, too. What’s common among the demons is they all desperately want to escape their dimension. Our world is where the grass is greener.
    In terms the average human can relate to, if you’ve ever worked a customer complaints counter in a mall, Ra looks at least twice as bad as that.
    The Well of Sorrows showed me Ba’al’s forces gathering at a towering wall of ice. I saw a gate made of fire and bones. I saw circles of red demons, just like the soldiers who attacked the Keep and killed so many of the Choir.
    What I hadn’t seen was those of our number who had been dragged back through the rip in dimensions. I hadn’t known that some of the invasion force took some of our people back to their side of the bridge. I saw the demons feeding.  
    You guessed it. More shrieking. I wasn’t wearing my katana. I didn’t even have my umbrella sword on me. (Warrior or not, they’re tiresome to carry around all the time and, until now, I’d felt