32
It would have been a busy morning
without the arrival of Okalani’s arm. As
it was, it was insane. We vacated
Adriana’s
apartments,
leaving
the
investigators to do their thing.
Bruno and Creede had hustled off
somewhere with Dahlmar’s best mages
to work on the tracking device that could
be implanted in my body in case the
worst came to pass. My hand was
throbbing, and I glanced down at the
curse mark on my palm to see it red and
angry. Thanks to the late, unlamented
Queen Stefania and her death curse, I’d
had a lot of experience with worst-case
scenarios.
My thoughts were dark, my mood
darker. I had to do something to distract
myself, so I went with Thorsen and Igor
to look in on the people doing one last
check of the various security measures. I
had a vested interest in them. Still, if
there were any weaknesses, I wasn’t
finding them. Then again, neither was
anybody else.
Noon came. We broke for lunch. I
asked a servant to have food brought to
my rooms and went there to eat and
clean up. I’d gone to Adriana’s rooms in
such a rush that I hadn’t even had a
chance to brush my teeth, so I felt pretty
damned scruffy.
There was a final check of the
wedding regalia scheduled in one of the
downstairs conference rooms at 2:00. So
I ate, took a shower, and generally made
myself presentable. By the time I was
done, it was 1:30. I stepped out of the
bedroom and into the living area to find
Bruno, Creede, and an elderly man in a
plain brown suit waiting for me, their
expressions serious. They rose when I
entered the room.
“Well?” I looked from one to the
other.
“We did it.” Creede and Bruno both
smiled. They looked tired but pleased.
And well they should be. Breaking new
magical territory on short notice and
under pressure was something to be
proud of.
“This”—Bruno gestured to the older
man,
who
bowed—“is
Dr.
Ilia
Bogdonavich. He’s going to implant the
device.”
I started to roll up the sleeve of my
blouse, but Creede shook his head.
“Under the circumstances—” I had a
sickening flash of memory of Okalani’s
arm laying on Adriana’s bed.
“Right. Where do you suggest,
Doctor?”
“The muscles of the abdomen or the
gluteus maximus would be best.”
Stomach or ass. Hmnnn, not much of a
choice. I reached for my belt. “Leave the
room, boys.”
“Aw,” Bruno teased, “you’re no fun.”
Creede just smiled and led him out into
the hall, giving the doctor and me some
privacy.
“This is going to pinch,” he said. Why
do all doctors say that? And why are
they always lying?
It didn’t pinch, it hurt. I had to remind
myself that I’d asked for this. People had
gone to a lot of trouble to arrange it for
me, and it was for my own good. But I
was still pretty grumpy as I followed
Baker through the maze of corridors to
the conference room for the fitting. It’s
surprising how much you use your tail
muscles to walk. I should have thought
of that.
We arrived at more or less the same
time as Adriana and her guards. My
cousin looked much better than she had
this morning. Her “wake-up call” had
been shocking and sickening, but she’s a
tough cookie. It had frightened her, no
doubt about it. But she was channeling
that fear into anger and determination. I
admired her for it.
She’d dressed in simple jeans and a
white cotton tee. I was wearing my usual
black jeans with a blouse and a black
suit jacket. Technically I was the better
dressed, but she somehow managed to
look elegant, chic, and oh so much more
attractive. It was a trick she and Dawna
both had mastered and I just hadn’t. I
kept trying to figure out how they did it.
Dawna said it was the fit—but Isaac had
tailored this jacket. It fit perfectly.
Whatever it was, I couldn’t do it.
“Are you okay?” Adriana asked.
“As much I can be,” I assured her.
“You?”
“The same. Is it wrong to say I just
want this over with?”
“No. I think that’s pretty typical of
most brides at this stage of the game, and
they don’t have to deal with terrorists.
But hey, remember, this time tomorrow,
you’ll be Mrs. Dahlmar, Queen of
Rusland, and off on your honeymoon.”
She beamed at the thought, reaffirming
my belief that this marriage wasn’t about
politics; it was true love on both sides.
Baker opened the door, revealing a
small room filled to bursting with
clothing and people. One rack held the
bridesmaids’ dresses; another, the
exquisite cream and pearl confection that
was Adriana’s wedding dress. Holding
court in the center of the room, it drew
the eye, and I found myself gaping at it
as my cousin and I crossed the threshold.
Only as the door swung closed and I felt
the rush of magic did I realize that
something was terribly wrong.
No one was moving. Isaac, on his
knees on the floor, was frozen rigid, one
hand reaching up to smooth the fabric of
Adriana’s gown. Gilda was a statue,
caught in midstep, her mouth open as if
to speak.
Instinct took over. I shoved Adriana
behind me and shouted for Baker. We
needed out of here, now! Reaching
behind me, I grabbed for the doorknob.
The instant my skin touched the cold
metal I felt the familiar lurch and the
room and everything in it disappeared.
33
I landed in the center of a silver casting
circle next to a bloody, lump of battered
flesh that I could barely identify as
female. She had been impaled with a
lance of bone, pinned to the concrete
floor like a butterfly pinned to a card.
Carved over every inch of the lance’s
surface were words written in burning
red script. I recognized some of the
names and phrases from my classes back
in college. My gorge rose as I realized
this was the spear of the chief demon in
charge of Satan’s legions. The writing
seemed to flow and writhe before my
eyes, making me dizzy and nauseous.
The woman made a
sound, too weak
to be a gasp or even a moan. I dropped
to my knees, crawling across the floor to
examine her. I was desperately careful
to avoid the spear. I didn’t know what
touching it might do to me and I so didn’t
want to find out.
It was only when I reached her side
that I realized her right arm was missing,
the shoulder socket a burned, cauterized
mess. I began to weep as recognition hit.
“Oh, dear God, no.” The moment I
uttered what amounted to a prayer, a
gong sounded, loud enough that my ears
bled. Reality shuddered and wavered as
the substance of our dimension began to
part. The spear began radiating soaring
heat. I smelled burning flesh, like meat
cooking on the grill, and Okalani’s body
arched. Her mouth opened, but only a
raw whisper of sound came out.
My stomach heaved and I lost
everything I’d ever even thought about
eating, turning away so I wouldn’t spew
on Okalani. Despite the surge of power,
the demon didn’t arrive. He couldn’t
until a human summoner called him.
When I recovered, I checked on
Okalani. Under most circumstances, she
would be dead—no human or siren body
was capable of withstanding the damage
that had been inflicted on her. But the
demon’s spear pinned her soul to her
body just as tightly as it held her body to
the ground. She would live until the
demon removed the weapon and
allowed her to die. They had wanted her
alive to use her talent to bring Adriana
and me here. They wanted her suffering,
both alive and dead at the same time.
Pain, suffering, and despair are what
they feed on. If her soul was tainted
enough, she’d be theirs in Hell. If not,
she’d be free.
I stood, steeling myself to touch that
foul thing and pull it from her. Human
strength wouldn’t be enough to remove
it. Vampire and siren strength might.
My movement didn’t go unnoticed. I
had been so focused on Okalani I hadn’t
realized anyone else was in the room,
but now I spun around as Jan Mortensen
stepped close to the circle, close enough
to get a good look at me, but careful not
to cross the line.
“You!” he spat. “Where is your
cousin? Olga promised she’d deliver
you both. Stupid, incompetent bitch.”
So Olga was the traitor. I wasn’t
surprised. Here’s hoping I’d live to
accuse her, though it wasn’t looking
likely.
“Still”—Jan smiled, and it was pure
evil that lit his face with delight—“of
the two of you, you’re the one I wanted
most, after what you did to my brother. I
will enjoy every minute of what happens
to you even more than I’ve enjoyed
punishing your little friend.”
He turned and walked out of the room
through an open door. I could hear him
giving orders to people I couldn’t see.
“The sacrifice has arrived. Make sure
the cameras and the computer are ready.
We want to make sure this goes out
live.”
I didn’t just hear heavy footfalls then,
I felt them. The ground shuddered
beneath my knees with each invisible
step. The smell of sulfur filled the air,
thick enough to choke on, searing my
lungs each time I drew breath.
I’ve faced greater demons before. But
I’d always been outside the safety of a
protection ring. Now I was inside. I
tried to think, tried to plan, but my mind
refused.
I could sense something huge and
hideous waiting, poised to pounce. All
that stood between it and me was a
tissue-paper-thin film of reality. He
could not cross that last barrier without
human invitation. Even having come so
far, and having been here so often, he
could not cross. Even with his greatest
tool on this side of the veil, the demon
could not appear until someone uttered
the words to bring him forth.
Jan stepped back into the room,
wearing a black robe of thick velvet. He
pulled up a hood, obscuring his face,
then drew a hooked silver knife from a
pocket hidden in the thick folds of ebony
cloth. He rolled back his left sleeve,
exposing a pale length of heavily scarred
flesh. With a triumphant cry, he drew a
long, deep cut down the length of his
forearm. Then he shook the blade,
sending splatters of blood onto the silver
casting ring as he began chanting the
summoning.
I fought to control my terror, tried to
think clearly enough to do something,
anything to buy the time it would take for
a rescue.
The casting had to have blood. But it
also needed the words. If I could stop
Jan from speaking, I could stop the
demon.
Reaching beneath my jacket, I drew
my gun. Dropping to one knee, I steadied
myself, then fired twice, aiming at the
center mass of his body. But the bullets
were caught in the spell barrier, frozen
in midair as if suspended in clear
gelatin. He was almost finished. Just a
few more seconds … I had an idea, a
desperate, crazy idea. I grabbed one of
my One Shot squirt guns filled with holy
water. I raised the tiny water pistol with
my left hand and my Colt with my right. I
squeezed the trigger with my left index
finger. I actually saw the water hit,
seconds, barely long enough for me to
aim the Colt and fire.
Jan’s body jerked backward as the
bullet hit him square in the chest; blood
and cloth sprayed the wall behind him,
more blood bubbled from his lips. He
dropped to his knees and I knew I’d
killed him. But it didn’t matter, because
with his last whisper of breath, he
finished the summoning. The way was
clear.
I closed my eyes. If I looked, if I saw
him, I would panic and wouldn’t be able
to think. I needed to think. Odin Allfather
had said I could defeat this. I struggled,
trying to remember his words even as
hideous, obscene laughter made my skin
try to crawl off my body while at the
same time my loins tightened with
desire.
The message: what was it? The words
came to me then. Have faith. The right
weapon can overcome what will come
against you.
I had holy water, but only another One
Shot, certainly not enough to harm
something like this.
The demon laughed again and began
moving toward me. I
found myself
weeping, praying for the courage and
strength; praying to the god my
grandmother had taught me of, who I’d
wanted to believe in and never could.
But as I knelt on the hot concrete, the
words of the first prayer she ever taught
me came to my mind, remembered from
back when I was small enough to be
afraid of the dark, before my sister had
even been born.
Angel of God, my guardian dear.
The demon let out a basso bellow that
shattered my eardrums, deafening me
more thoroughly than a gunshot at close
range.
To whom God’s love commits me
here.
I opened my eyes to see a huge, black
dragon, like a living shadow, towering
at least forty feet above me, razor-sharp
claws raised to strike. When I didn’t
stop praying, he turned toward Okalani.
I screamed, “No,” and threw myself
down on top of her, protecting her body
with mine. I wrapped myself around the
spear that bound her to this world. I
closed my eyes and waited for the blow
that would end my life.
Fire flared around me, I could smell
it, feel it. But it did not burn. The dragon
shrieked in impotent rage. I couldn’t
hear it, but I could feel it, an actual
physical pressure beating against me. I
opened my eyes wondering what could
possibly be stopping him and saw light,
bright
searing
light,
illuminating
everything, making the demonic monster
hold back. Words echoed in my mind,
and though they were in a language I did
not know, I knew full well what they
were saying.
They are mine. The demon’s voice,
filled with honey and putrefaction.
The other voice held power and love
stronger than anything I’d ever felt. Were
that so, I could not be here, and well
we both know it. Begone.
A dark laugh bubbling with evil
pleasure filled my ears and made me
cringe. I wanted to look again but that
was the way to madness. True evil
would corrupt my eyes, blind me. One is
a traitor, the other a tainted thing.
They are mine!
The sound of steel on steel filled the
air, like a blade being unsheathed. No.
The betrayer has repented and is
forgiven. And while the other has yet to
choose her final path, it is she who
called me forth. Again I say, begone.
I felt the power surging and risked a
peek. The dragon shimmered, changing
shape,
becoming
something