Dominic (23 page)

She was alive.

Moaning, she drew herself into a fetal position and ducked her head to peek at Rose. Was it her imagination, or had she already begun to look

healthier?

“Please, please let it be so,” she whispered, gently rocking her.

An unfamiliar, suffocating mist surrounded them, but it seemed to bother only her, not her child. Disoriented, she analyzed it and found it tinged

with that metal ic scent Carlo had brought with him each time he’d returned from the war.

Else World. She’d made it. Just barely.

With dreamlike lethargy, she shifted Rose to the crook of one arm and attempted to stand on legs made of wet pasta. But she quickly wilted,

crumpling back to the hard-packed ground.

“Dominic,” she whispered.

Sometime later, a flash of red woke her. Then another. There were creatures gathered close around her in the dark tunnel, al with eyes the color of

rubies. One leaned close, and she slapped at him, thinking he would kiss her. Instead he only sniffed at her neck.

“Stop that!” She pushed him away, but several others were sniffing along her body now, their noses like the pokes of fingers.

Rose began to cry, drawing their notice. Ghoulish, clawed hands took the girl and lifted her for inspection. Excited, grotesque sounds unlike any

speech Emma had ever heard rustled from their lips when they observed her silvered palm.

Emma protested, reaching for her daughter and cal ing for Dominic again, hardly knowing what she said. But when she tried to move, her innards

rebel ed, and then al went black.

Eventual y she woke again. Rose was calm and cuddled next to her, nursing, her smal body warm and alive. Someone had uncovered her breast,

she realized, helping her daughter to suckle.

The earth under them shook rhythmical y, and Emma’s stomach and head ached in time with each jolt. Footsteps. She and Rose were on a litter

being carried somewhere by someone. But who?

A light blanket covered them from head to toe. She lay there, staring at its stifling closeness, desperately wanting to see beyond it but unable to

muster the wherewithal to lift it. After an interlude, and to her surprise, an edge of it rose on its own as if by magic, just enough so that she could see

something of her surroundings.

One corner of the litter rested upon a mottled, olive-skinned shoulder and was held there by the same macabre fingers she remembered from the

tunnel. Testing the air outside, she found it more breathable than that she’d inhaled near the gate. Stil , ingesting it caused an irksome sort of tickle in her

lungs. She stifled the urge to cough, not wanting to attract attention.

Where were they being taken? It appeared to be early morning here. How much time had passed since she’d come through the gate?

She heard a commotion, and the simple conveyance that bore her paused. Raising the blanket a bit higher via her whim proved as easily and

miraculously done as before. Peering out, she saw they were in an expansive, tiled courtyard populated with twenty or so beings going about various

commonplace tasks. Ahead stood a gleaming temple with bronze doors, an edifice even more massive and ornate than Nicholas’s
castello
.

Two olive-skinned male creatures dressed only in loincloths were arguing several yards away beside a wagon hitched to twin four-legged beasts

of a kind Emma had never before seen. Nearby a woman dressed in saffron knelt and shot them worried glances as she plucked surreal, bright-colored

grapes from a row of vines.

The litter bearers began conversing among themselves in that strange, discordant language they’d spoken in the tunnel. Yet none of the

inhabitants of the rectangular plaza took more than casual note of them. It was as if she and her entourage were a perfectly normal sight. Or as if they

could not be seen at al !

The older of the males across the courtyard beckoned the kneeling woman closer, and she went reluctantly. She was skimpily clothed as wel , for

her long, flowing garments were translucent.

When she reached his side, the man indicated with the spin of a finger that she should turn. Once she had, he flipped up the veil that covered her

backside. Then he looked on as, without preliminaries, the younger male loosened his loincloth and thrust into her from behind.

Emma gasped.

A garish face fil ed the opening of the drape, cutting off her view. Her mind let the blanket go, and it dropped back into place. But before she could

scream, something touched her forehead through the coverlet, and she knew no more.

24

D
ominic devoured the sight of Emma’s peaceful countenance as she lay sleeping on the raised palet in his chamber within the temple. He’d never been

happier to see anyone, or more appal ed.

Without warning, she opened her eyes to find him looming over her. A shy delight colored her features at the sight of him.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he gritted. Her face fel , and he saw he’d hurt her. “Emma. I—”

“Rose?” she croaked, cutting him off. She attempted to rise and failed. Her weakness worried him. She would need her strength if they were to

escape their captors.

With a clank of the long chains that bound him to the stone wal behind him, his arm came around her, helping her to sit upright in the corner of his

sleeping alcove. “She’s here.”

He lowered the child he held in the angle of his other arm, letting her take Rose from him. Relief flooded her face at the sight of her sleeping

daughter’s healthy skin and pink cheeks. “How wel she looks! You won’t believe it, but the reason I brought her through the gate was because she was il .

Dying.”

“From what ailment?” he asked quickly.

“I’m not certain.” Pul ing Rose’s right arm from the blanket, she opened her tiny fist with a forefinger, taking care not to wake her. “But I see that one

symptom remains.”

Emma turned the smal palm his way, showing him. Something flashed there within it—a smal mirror like his own.

“Nine hundred thousand Hel s!” he snarled. “The mirror shouldn’t have come to her until her predecessor died.”

Was this a sign that his own demise was imminent?

“You look wel enough.” Emma searched over him with worried eyes, obviously having a similar concern. Before he could reply, a sudden fit of

coughing racked her, and she held her charge out to him, wordlessly requesting assistance. By the time he’d resettled the girl comfortably at the far side

of the pal et, Emma had calmed.

“You’re il ,” he said grimly.

“The air here,” she said in a thin voice. “It’s unbreathable.”

His frown worsened as the probable reason for her and Rose’s il nesses came to him. “You and the child are having some sort of opposite

reactions to our atmosphere here. Though she may dwel in your world, her health wil require that she visit this one on occasion. Whereas you—”

He stopped, seeing that Emma had paled even further as his words. His world was an anathema to her. How long would she last here?

Cursing, he eyed the doorless entrance to his cel as he began to pace like a caged animal. With the Facilitator’s deathbed revelation, al had

been changed. The notion that he and every other demonhand before him had been not only the slayers of demons but also their unwitting benefactors

tortured him.

In the hours he’d been held captive here, he had considered every possible solution to the dilemma that had been presented to him. Even suicide,

for the elder had specifical y told him that it was his presence in this world that brought the demons. However, because none but he knew this, he’d

worried that Rose would be brought here to assume the glove were he to die in this cel .

But now that she had so unexpectedly arrived, al was again changed. If he died, she would be fitted for a glove. And after her, another Chosen

One would spring up to receive a glove, and on and on. The demons would continue to thrive.

At the clanking sound that dogged his every step, Emma seemed to take note of his restraints for the first time. Long, heavy chains attached them

from the wal to his wrists, dragging the floor behind him as he walked. It was fortunate that the demons hadn’t also shackled his legs, for this oversight

had enabled him to don pants and boots once he’d been brought here from the nave.

“Why are you in irons?” she asked, blinking at her surroundings as though trying to shake off the effects of the atmosphere sufficiently to take stock

of their situation. “Who were those creatures that brought me here? And where exactly
is
here?”

“It’s a temple devoted to the worship of Bacchus. Demons invaded it last night.”

“Demons?” she echoed in alarm.

“They brought you and Rose here to my chamber several hours ago.”

Her gaze scanned the room, and he wondered what she made of his austere cel with its few creature comforts save a pal et, a clothing shelf, and

a basin. It was far from what she was accustomed to in her world.

He had to get her back there, but how? Feeling the need for action, he yanked at his chains for the hundredth time, bruising his wrists.

“Stop—you’re hurting yourself to little avail.” Sitting forward, Emma gestured him closer, examining his cuts and abrasions. Though her touch was

meant only as a kindness, his cock hardly cared, for it tautened, wanting her even at this inopportune time. “Why didn’t they simply kil us and be done with

their greatest enemies? It doesn’t make sense.”

He stared down at her, fal ing into her earnest brown eyes, wanting desperately to protect her and knowing that what he would tel her would only

terrify her. “Because—”

“Because we have discovered other uses for you.”

Dominic whirled to see the demon who’d spoken standing just inside his cel . He was naked, save for the numerous leather thongs dripping with

charms—bits of shaped metal, dried flesh, and other obscene talismans—slung loosely around his waist, neck, ankles, and wrists. The first visitor to

speak to Dominic since he’d been brought here, the creature scrupulously remained just out of reach, as though he knew exactly how far Dominic’s

tethers would stretch.

“I am Lord Kurr.”

A smal patch of sunlight fel on the creature, sending a cold chil arrowing down Dominic’s spine. Stunned, he looked to the smal , high window of

his cel . As he’d expected, the blackness had gone. Outside, al was daylight—a time when demons could not rise. Yet one stood before him!

Reading his thoughts, the demon gave him a smug nod. “Yes, I live in the day as wel as the night, courtesy of my host. Soon more of us wil

assume the flesh of your sect and live as you do. In time, your world wil become ours.”

The rumors Dominic’s mother had heard of demons taking hosts appeared to be true, for this was a demon the likes of which he’d never seen

before. Though patches of his mottled olive skin stil luminesced randomly here and there, the overal look of him was undeniably Satyr. Unfortunately this

demon didn’t appear to be the sole aberration. Behind him were others of his ilk who hadn’t ful y melded with their hosts yet and so came into view and

faded intermittently, their inner lights flashing in time with their movements.

Kurr spoke in a dialect Dominic understood but which Emma would likely have difficulty interpreting. However she obviously comprehended the

threat he represented, for she skittered across the pal et, trying to hide her daughter among the blankets and simultaneously blend into the stone wal .

The demon’s nostrils flared with interest, and a clawed finger whipped out in her direction. “This one stinks of the amulet,” he announced. His eyes

roved her, covetous. “Where is it?”

Dominic moved in front of mother and child, a six-and-a-half-foot brawny buffer between them and destruction.

“What is he saying?” Emma asked, kneeling up and laying a hand on his shoulder. His thoughts racing, he covered her hand with his own silently

hushing her.

Hoping this demon would prove as stupid as al the others he’d encountered, he smoothly tried to bluff. “She has hidden it in Earth World. If you

want it, I suggest you let her and the child fetch it back to us.”

Kurr’s suspicious eyes flicked silver and then red again. His claws retracted with an audible click. “Yet you bear the scent of the amulet as wel .”

“Due only to my association with her,” Dominic countered quickly.

The demon’s olive-colored hand fel to idly fondle his own genitals, as though the action helped him to think. Eventual y a grotesque smile split his

face as he came upon an explanation that pleased him. “You lie in order to see her set free. Because you lust for her. Yes. Good. Good. You wil mate with

her. As she mated my husband, but with better results. You wil produce a male.”

“Your husband?” New dread crept over Dominic as he guessed what the demon might mean.

“Carlo, he was named. I spil ed my seed in his body only hours before he created the Chosen One. You must have known he hungered for you. An

interesting trio we made, no?”

Dominic swore inwardly. This demon had fucked Carlo the very same night he’d gotten Emma with child? That meant the seed of
three
males, al

of different origins, had gone into the brew that had made her daughter what she’d become. Unpalatable news he planned to forever keep from the

woman behind him.

The demon pointed toward the heap of blankets that was Rose. “Fool that he was, he gave her that. Of what use is a female child? Has she

semen to spawn more of her kind? No!” He slapped himself in the head at the duplicity of his previous husband, not seeming to realize Carlo couldn’t

control such things as his offspring’s gender.