Stains of Grace: Demons of Saltmarch, #3

By Courtney Cantrell

Anne Waylock thought she was safe. Safe from the madness of demons and the auguren who hunted them. Safe from her tumultuous feelings for the troubled Owin Moran. Safe from the pain of her best friend’s betrayal. Four months ago she ran away from it all, and she never planned on looking back.

But when Legion, a mutant demon terrifying and dangerous even to other demons, appears in her new refuge, Anne finds herself forced to flee right back to the people she ran away from.

As if Legion weren’t enough, a normal demon hunts Anne as well, ready to devour her body and soul. Peter, normally the voice of reason and sanity in the face of the supernatural, has broken with reality. The auguren themselves are confused and frightened of Legion’s power and the changes it has wrought.

Even under guard from those trained and specially empowered by God to fight demons, safety is an illusion.

To her growing horror, Anne realizes the only way to set earth, heaven, and hell right is another trip to the demon realm of Saltmarch. The dual threat of insidious demons and Anne’s own weakness leaves her wondering if redemption might be the most painful, and most dangerous, option of all.

Stains of Grace is the third book in the Demons of Saltmarch series. Approximately 80,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Consortium Books
• Release date: Apr 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781513014104

Courtney Cantrell

Courtney Cantrell is the author of epic fantasy series Legends of the Light-Walkers, paranormal fantasy series Demons of Saltmarch, sci-fi epic The Elevator, and oodles of short stories. She was born in Texas and grew up in Germany. At age 12, she penned her first novel, a one-page murder mystery. (The gardener did it.) By age 17, she had finished two full-length YA sci-fi novels. Three transatlantic moves, thirty years, and countless shenanigans later, Courtney writes full-time as a stay-at-home mom. As of 2023, she has survived the collapse of modern civilization and completed 16 novels and two short story collections in multiple genres. Courtney lives with her husband, their daughter, two cats, and an assortment of cross-cultural doohickeys. She blogs haphazardly at courtcan.com and connects with her adoring fans as @courtcan on Mastodon.

Book preview

Dante

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demon>

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Greetings, auguren.

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demon>

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Once again, auguren, I greet you.

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demon>

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In the way of my kind with yours, I make my opening bid.

I gr—

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demon>

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Well, dammit all to Saltmarch. Who put this wall here? I didn't order this!

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Hello? Hey! Auguren! Can you hear me?

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Crap.

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Chapter 1

The car made a terrific crunching noise as I shoved it into gear and jammed my foot down on the accelerator. Somehow, the engine didn't die. Rubber squealed, louder than my screams, but I still heard the wet noise of an object slamming into the left backseat window as I fish-tailed out of the church parking lot.

I was shaking too violently to guide the car with only one hand. I didn't care—I reached for my purse anyway. All hail the saints of raspberry cream, I didn't have to fish around to find my cell phone. I glanced down at it, hit the app for my contacts list, and looked back at the road in time to swerve out of the path of a honking, oncoming car and back into my own lane. Close call, but I couldn't get any shakier than I already was. Another, briefer glance found the name I wanted to call. He picked up on the first ring.

It's Anne, I said.

Silence on the other end of the line. I thought he whispered my name. Then, louder, Owin said, How are you?

I'm seeing demons.

What?

There's no what, Owin! There's only demons! My heart was racing, I was gasping for breath, and right now, there was no such thing as patience. For the last year and a half of our lives, it's been demons, demons, demons, and I am fudge-freaking sick of it!

Another silence. I could hear him thinking. Aw, Owin...this is not the time for you to hide in your denial box.

Please, please don't hide. I need you.

Tell me what happened, he said then.

And I knew he was with me. With that knowledge, finally, came the tears that I hated but that had been clogging the back of my throat since the Legion demon in the church pew had lifted its head and grinned at me. I let loose a ragged sob that made me loathe myself...but it released the most awful pressure around my chest.

Tell me, Owin said into my ear.

I went to church, I wailed back.

I had to turn left. I had no clear idea of where I was going, but part of my brain apparently knew. Grateful in a vague sort of way that no other drivers had chosen this moment to head north on this section of Vine Street, I jerked the steering wheel around in a rhythm guaranteed to catch the attention of every cop in east Denver—except that every cop in east Denver was probably already racing toward a more interesting massacre at a certain church building.

I heard Owin's voice and several other voices in the background—and then the shuffle of hands grabbing at a phone. Then a new voice.

Anne, where are you?

Daniel, give Owin back the torting phone.

Absolutely not. Tell me where you are. What happened?

Dan— My voice cracked, and a sob filtered through. Put Owin on. Please.

Anne, listen to me, Daniel said, and I wanted to scream.

I couldn't talk to him. Not Daniel, who considered himself expert on all things demon, despised his own damaged brother, and was willing to abandon my best friend to the personification of evil just to protect his own kind. Not Daniel, who thought Owin and I and everyone like us—normals, as he called us—were weak. Worth protecting, yes...but inferior because we needed protection in the first place. Not worth investing emotion in. Not worth the effort of courtesy. Not worth caring about.

Daniel would do everything he could to protect my soul. But he would turn around and tell me that everything I cared about was worth nothing because I wasn't part of his precious demon-hunter family. Because I wasn't an auguren.

I don't want to talk to you, Daniel. Tears blurred my vision now. I need to talk to Owin.

You need to talk to an auguren. A normal can't help you, Anne.

Real expletives rolled through my head. Not the funny, food-related ones that my best friend Holly dubbed FudgeSpeak. No, these were real, harsh, bitter ones that would have sounded hideous in my tear-clogged voice. Maybe they would've sounded demonic. They wouldn't have felt out-of-place in the church auditorium I was putting farther and farther behind me.

Owin, I whispered.

In a minute. Daniel's voice was as auguren-hard as I'd ever heard it. I'm going to tell you what I know, Anne, and you need to listen to me. Your life depends on it, and you know how serious I am when I say that.

I knew. And I hated him for it. I ground my teeth together and tried to suppress my next ragged breath. It didn't work.

We're dealing with a crisis, Daniel said.

No. Really?

We've seen an increase in demon activity over the last few months—

Yeah. I know.

—and most of the demons have been Legion.

I sucked in a deep breath. It refused to come out again.

Do I have your attention now? He went on before I could answer. The Baneguild is meeting here again, Anne. Here in Warwick. They're calling in major players from all over the world because Legion has been popping up everywhere. And normals are seeing it. Legion in physical form is going after normals, and we're running out of time to stop it.

I swallowed hard. I cleared my throat. I turned onto the street where my aunt and uncle lived. The noonday sun filtered through tenuous autumn leaves, morphing the street into a damn greeting card. I pictured Legion on this street—lurching, running, biting, tearing—and made a sound I couldn't identify.

We need to know as much as possible before we make a plan, Daniel was saying. You need to stop being stupid about Owin and tell me what's happened.

Wait a second.

My voice sounded way too calm. He must've heard it, too, because he finally shut up. In the background of his sudden silence, I heard Owin's hushed voice. Typical Owin: quieter and quieter the more ticked off he got. I pulled into the driveway of my dad's brother's house, put the car in first, and shut off the engine. And didn't move.

Put me on speaker, I told Daniel. "And do not tell me no, or I'm hanging up and driving over my phone."

A moment later, Daniel said, You're on, and the open sound told me he'd done as I asked.

I couldn't not tell him. His arrogance made me sick...but what I'd seen not fifteen minutes ago made me sicker. I stared through the windshield at Uncle Carlos and Aunt Julie's house and tried to ignore the roiling in my stomach. A breeze I couldn't feel shifted branches, and speckles of sunshine danced across the mailbox emblazoned Waylock in Aunt Julie's flamboyant style. All was peace and coziness at the house I'd lived in all summer.

For all I knew, Legion was already here. It could be waiting for me inside the house. It. They. Whatever. My eyes roved across the darkened windows as I talked.

I went to church. This time, my voice didn't crack. The singing was great. The sermon sucked. I get distracted when the chick behind me starts filing her nails. Loud. So I turn around to tell her to shut it, and she's filed her nail all the way down to the bone. There's blood all over her pink pantsuit. She looks up at me, and it's not a woman. It's a Legion zombie thing in pink. All teeth. It lunges at the man sitting next to it and rips his throat out.

Anne, are you hurt? Over the speaker, Owin's voice was as quiet and dark as I'd ever heard it. Almost as quiet and dark as those rare moments when he talked about what he'd done to Holly and me almost a year ago.

No, I'm not hurt.

Daniel's voice cut off Owin's. "You actually saw Legion."

I took a deep breath and let it out through clenched teeth so that he would hear it. Yeah, Daniel, I actually saw Legion. I've been seeing Legion all summer. Bet that gets your auguren cream sauce boiling.

"You what?"

I laughed. It came out as something more like a bark. Paired with the hiss of my breath a few moments before, and I sounded like my own worst nightmare. All I needed was a vicious growl, and I could pass for Legion myself.

My voice was awful. The ragged, hunted note was back. I drive to the grocery store, I see Legion sitting in an alley. I take Benny for a walk, I see Legion up a tree in the park. Climbing around and grinning. I go hiking at Buffalo Creek, and I see Legion go around the next bend in the trail. So yeah, I'm seeing demons all over the place, and none of you auguren people have showed up once to chase them off.

Never mind that Legion hadn't really bothered me. My glimpses of the zombie demon had been just that—glimpses. The thing in the tree was gone after I blinked. The one in the alley melted into the shadows. Literally melted, like blobs of tar on a hot Oklahoma street outside the university I'd attended what felt like a lifetime ago. And the one creature on the hiking trail hadn't been there when I edged my way around a protective boulder with a big, sharp rock in my hands.

But Daniel didn't need to know any of that. I was perfectly fine letting him squirm.

He was talking again. Like I said, we're in a crisis, Anne. You're not the only normal who's been seeing Legion. This has never happened before, and we've all had our hands full. Even the auguren who aren't working with lodestones.

So much for putting a guilt trip on Daniel Oh-So-Holy Townsend. I should've known better. I kept scanning the front of my relatives' house. Nothing moved. Not a curtain twitched. If Legion was in there, it was keeping quiet. Was it smart enough to stalk someone? To lie in wait? Could it see me from inside and think to itself that it would wait until I walked through the front door before it came after me?

It. They. Whatever.

Daniel wasn't through with me. What else happened in the church?

Not much. Another zombie popped up on the other side of the auditorium. It tore a woman's head off. Another one jumped up from the front row and ripped the preacher's guts out. Everyone started screaming and running for the exits. Somebody went through a window, so I climbed out after them. That's all. Guess they didn't like the sermon, either.

A rustling noise interrupted Owin's swearing in the background.

Anne, listen to me. Daniel had taken me off speaker. You need to get out here as quickly as you can. We'll send someone to meet you, but I don't know how soon she can get to you. But don't wait for her in Denver. Start driving here, and she'll find you. Her name is Nora Parker.

My eyes caught movement beyond the big picture window with its decorative wrought iron corner grills. Daniel. You want me to drive from Denver to Rhode Island? You're freaking kiddin' me.

No. I'm not joking.

It'd take three days. I'm not driving three days. The movement behind the window stopped. Just over the sill, I could see the back of Aunt Julie's red loveseat. But beyond that lay only the darkness of a still and empty house. Or maybe a newly-made zombie lair. Open one of your auguren wormhole things, I told Daniel. I bet you can make it come out right here in Uncle Carlos's driveway.

We can't. Legion's been hijacking the portals. Nobody can use them right now.

That doesn't make any sense to me.

Even the Baneguild can't explain it, okay, Anne?

Ah. There was the defensive tone I'd been looking for—but I didn't care anymore. A shadow twitched just beyond the back of the loveseat.

We just know Legion's been showing up inside portals and using them, Daniel went on. A few auguren have died. We can't open a portal to you.

Wire me money, then. I'll fly out this afternoon.

You really want to be inside an airplane at thirty thousand feet when Legion decides to show up and start snacking on the passengers?

Without taking my eyes from the window, I grabbed my purse, slung it over my shoulder, and got out of the car. I left the keys in the ignition and the driver's side door open. And then just stood next to the car, watching.

Anne?

No, I.... My shakes and tears had stopped at some point when I hadn't noticed, but my voice was still hoarse. You're right. No plane. I'll pack a bag and write a note and drive.

We'll send Nora to meet you, but I don't know how soon she'll find you. Just drive fast, Anne.

I'm on my way. Tell Owin—

But Daniel hung up. I slid the phone into my back pocket and couldn't bring myself to feel irritated. Whatever was in my aunt's living room, I could see it moving back and forth beyond the loveseat. Like something prowling, searching for a scent it had lost.

My scent? Lost when I fled the massacre in the church building?

I stepped away from the car and started across the lawn toward the house. This was stupid. I should get back in the car and just go. Forget the bag, forget the clothes, forget the fudging toothbrush, just get in the car and drive. Setting foot in that house would be like serving myself up to Legion with strawberry chocolate sauce and sprinkles.

But there was a wad of cash in the guest room that I might need sometime over the next three days. Thank the gods of cake icing, my car was a loan from Peter Townsend and not my aunt and uncle's. After putting me up and putting up with me all summer, my relatives deserved a goodbye note—and at least I wouldn't have to apologize for taking one of their vehicles out of state.

And it would be a note, not a phone call. I'd been avoiding my parents' calls and ignoring my siblings' texts all summer, and now I'd have to add Uncle Carlos and Aunt Julie to the Do Not Contact list. Zombie demons and wormhole-generating superhumans were just too difficult to explain over a call-dropping 3G network.

I reached the front door and tried the handle. It moved, but the door didn't open. Still locked. I didn't know why that felt like a relief...after all, Legion didn't need doors to get in and out of places. My first encounter with it—them—whatever—had taken place in a coffee shop in Oklahoma City's Paseo art district—and then it had crawled out of several oil paintings in the form of demon cartoon bunnies and sentient, claw-tipped vines. If Legion wanted in my aunt and uncle's house, it had all sorts of entry points to choose from, none of which had anything to do with actual doors.

I put my key into the lock—and screamed at the flash of movement in the sidelight to my left. And then I leaned my forehead against the door and let loose what I hoped would be my final, ragged sob of the day. What a moron. I laughed again, the same crazy laugh I'd given Daniel. It would've sent chills down my spine if I hadn't felt so relieved. I turned the key and pushed the door open. Benny immediately leaped up to put his front paws on my knees.

Hey, little guy. I rubbed his ears with both hands. Your cousin Anne's a frosting obliviot, in case you didn't know.

I'd lived here for almost four months and taken my uncle's little Schnauzer for a walk every day before heading out to my part-time waitressing job. You'd think I would catch on that the dog loved to greet people at the door after watching their approach from the loveseat behind the big picture window with the wrought-iron grillwork. Back and forth movement in the dim light of the living room—Legion, indeed. No way I should've mistaken Benny's happy scampering for the prowling of a Legion demon. Oh, Annie, Annie, get a grip. No excuse. Moron.

Inside, the house looked exactly as I'd left it a few hours ago: my breakfast dishes still on the dining table, the lights off, my map of the Colorado Trail on the red loveseat. Uncle Carlos and Aunt Julie were on a week-long photoshoot somewhere in Roosevelt National Park and wouldn't even reach their destination until tonight. I planned to be in Iowa by then. Or at least somewhere past Omaha.

Up the stairs, down the hall to the guestroom that had been my room since the day of my unexpected arrival. I'd gotten here with my purse and a single bag, and I'd leave the same way. Waitressing had provided enough cash for me to pay my cell bill and alleviate my freeloader's guilt by helping out with grocery money. But I hadn't added clothing, knick-knacks, or decorations to my possessions. I'd toyed with the idea of finding a better job and my own place and just staying in Denver indefinitely....

But now, standing in the doorway and looking around the room at my lack of stuff, I wondered if I'd known this was coming. I could still travel light. People who intend to stick around start collecting things. The ones who don't accumulate stuff are the ones who know, somewhere deep inside, that something is going to drive them away again.

Dammit.

While Benny watched, head cocked and nub tail wagging, I stuffed my meager wardrobe into the bag I'd bought during my escape from Warwick, Rhode Island. Owin had begged me to stay. Daniel had been glad to get me out of his parents' house.

Peter had already stopped caring about what any of us thought or did. Had he gotten any better over the last few months? Or had Holly's awful choice changed him for good—which meant for worse? Owin would've told me, if Daniel had given him a chance to talk. Owin Moran and Peter Townsend would never be friends...but Owin knew I cared about Peter. For Holly's sake, if for no other reason. And as much as Peter let anyone care about him.

I stepped across the hall into the tiny guest bathroom and flung toothbrush, toothpaste, contacts paraphernalia, and shower gel into my bag. Daniel's contempt, Peter's misery, and Owin's obdurate patience with me—I'd fled it all four months ago, running from the Townsend family home in even more desperation than I was running from Denver now. Daniel and Owin with their expectations, and Peter with his lack of expectation in anything...I couldn't take it another minute. The auguren and their world, so unlike my own, had kept me from breathing. Not even for Owin's sake could I have stayed any longer.

And now I'm going back, I said to Benny, who was watching me from the doorway of the bathroom. Peter's not the only one who's gone crazy. I must be sugar-torting nuts.

Benny wagged his nub and opened his mouth in a panting grin as if he'd known all along. Then he looked sharply to his right, lifted his lips, and growled deep in his throat. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Benny. My voice wasn't shaking. Didn't that mean I knew what was coming? Benny, come here.

The Schnauzer didn't even twitch an ear, much less obey. He lowered his head, eyes still trained on whatever had his attention, and growled again.

From down the hall, something growled back.

I didn't think. I turned and stepped over the edge of the bathtub to get at the tiny bathroom window. The clouded glass revealed nothing of what might await me in the back yard below, but I couldn't worry about that. My fingers were as steady as my voice as I unlatched the window and shoved it up. But Uncle Carlos's springtime renovation project hadn't extended to the guest bathroom window with its ancient, rotten frame. I shoved hard enough that first the wood and then the pane cracked. Glass splintered down around my hands, shattering in the ceramic tub. Amid the crashing, Benny started to bark. Echoing off tile, the sound was doubly vicious.

Still, I knew it wasn't enough to keep Legion at bay.

I tossed my bag out the open window and heard the thwump when it hit below. I glanced over my shoulder. Benny was backing into the room, barking and spraying spittle. Drops of it hit the shin of a leg just edging past the door frame.

The leg's owner was holding back—surely not out of fear, just uncertainty of how to deal with a tiny, toothy guard dog. But that confusion wouldn't last long. And that leg, though draped in rotting fabric that might once have been denim, covered with yellow-grayish skin that was missing in some places—that leg still looked muscular and powerful. It looked like it belonged to a creature that knew its own strength and wasn't afraid to use it.

Of course it had no fear. It was Legion. And for all I knew, there were more of it coming up the stairs and shuffling down the hall toward me while I watched a drop of pus roll down a shred of soaked cloth and drip onto Aunt Julie's pristine, white tile floor.

I turned, grabbed a towel off the rack, and wrapped it around my hand before punching shards of glass out of the broken window frame. Gripping the window sill through the towel, I pushed myself up, stuck my head out, then levered my legs through the opening. Behind me, Benny's barking grew shriller. I glanced back.

In the bathroom doorway stood a Legion zombie in the remains of a suitcoat blazer, white shirt, and jeans. The clothing was shredded—as was the skin underneath. Flaps of ruined flesh hung from the creature's limbs as though flayed. A huge section of skin was missing from its face, starting at the right temple and going all the way down to its chin. The teeth on that side were exposed: rotting, yellow teeth caked with pus and something much darker. Something red.

As I stared, the thing locked gazes with me. One of its pupils swam in milky gray. The white of that eye was as yellow as the teeth. The iris of the other eye was a soft, warm, normal brown...as though Legion wanted prove that it could make beauty in the midst of horror. Somehow, that was the most hideous part of all.

The dog was still barking and backing toward me. I'm sorry, Benny, I whispered. I twisted in the window, hoping the towel would stay put, and slithered out backward and down until I was hanging by my hands with nothing but empty air under me. Sharp pain lanced through my right hand, and I screamed.

Above me and inside the bathroom, Benny stopped barking. I hung there, listening and gritting my teeth against the pain in my hand. The towel had moved. I tried not to think about glass embedded in my palm. Benny barked again, and this time, the sound didn't echo. Was he out in the hall? Had Legion retreated? I looked up.

The zombie thing stared down at me, its snarling, demon face not two feet from mine. It growled again, and its rotten meat breath washed over me. I choked