Authors: Christine Warren
“Locus ubi exire!”
she screamed, and only then stopped to wonder if the spell would work on two people at once.
Peeking over the top of the chest, she saw an enormous ball of her blue-white magic, at least fifteen feet in diameter. Through the shimmering surface, she could just make out the shadow of two
nocturnis
-shaped figures.
“Yes!” She wished she could give herself a high five.
Instead, she shifted, hoping to get a bead on how Kees was doing with the other three spellcasters. With the ones from the back and McQuaid and Stanley added to the list, they had a total of eight bad guys to take care of. Well, six now, thanks to the bouncy ball cage she’d just set up.
Ella should have known better to gloat. Even mentally. She’d barely had time to process the thought when a rough hand grabbed her by the hair and jerked her to her feet. Screaming, she took a swing at her attacker only to freeze when she felt the barrel of a gun press hard against her temple.
McQuaid laughed, low and mean, and pressed his cheek up against hers until she could almost taste his hot breath. Her stomach heaved. “Bet you wish you’d called me now, bitch.”
She froze and waited for the bullet to end everything.
“Wait! Don’t kill her!” Stanley shouted. “Bring her here. I’ve thought of a new use for our pretty prize.”
Kees bellowed, and Ella automatically turned in his direction. The sight of him scared her almost more than the gun had. He bled from dozens of shallow cuts all over his body, as if he’d walked through a tornado of razor blades. His claws shone dark and slick with more blood, but at least she could assume that came from the dead
nocturnis
at his feet. Three more continued to attack him with spell after spell. Ella recognized the third as the man she’d hoped had passed out behind the cabin.
Stanley laughed, hoarse and cruel like a hyena. “I don’t think your Guardian is going to like my idea, Ella-bella. Some creatures just can’t take the sight of blood, but yours is going to taste very, very good to the one you’re going to help me raise.” He waved to McQuaid. “Bring her here, into the circle.”
“Ooh, looks like we’re having a party, girl, and you get to invite the guest of honor.” McQuaid chuckled. “Too bad you have to die before he can get here.”
Ella fought like an angry badger. She struck out with fists and feet, teeth and nails. Unfortunately, the cop had gone through professional training. He countered every one of the tricks Kees had taught her and kept hold of her as he dragged her the few feet to the circle Stanley had carved into the ground with the tip of a knife. When she began impeding his progress with her writhing and bucking, he struck her on the side of the head hard enough to make her see stars. Involuntarily, she went limp, dazed by the blow.
As soon as she passed the boundary, Stanley sealed it, completing the summoning circle. Ella lay in a crumpled heap in the dirt, on her stomach, her hands caught beneath her. The mage had trapped the three of them inside. And Kees outside.
Despite the three mages still bombarding him with Dark magic, the Guardian threw himself after Ella, but he was bogged down with wounds and tendrils of evil energy. His fists pounded against the magical barrier, but all Ella could hear was a faint ping.
Then even that was drowned out by the sound of his rage.
Ignoring the furious gargoyle, McQuaid frowned at the other man. “You really think it’s a good idea for us to be in here with her? I don’t recall your ‘special friends’ being real discriminating about their dinners.”
Stanley rolled his eyes. “You’d rather be out there with him? Don’t be a fool. The demon I’ll summon will be minor, and by spilling her blood to do it, I’ll bind it under my control. He’ll have to obey me, and I’ll order it not to eat you. Provided you stop pissing me off.”
Ella lay still and listened, pretending to be stunned by the blow. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get out of the circle unless the boundary was broken. She thought about the salt in her pocket. Salt would ground the spell and break the circle, but she had two men standing almost on top of her. If she wanted to make good on an escape attempt, her timing would have to be perfect.
“Well, what the hell use is a minor demon?”
“Minor is a relative term. It will still be strong enough to take care of the Guardian. Summoning one of the Old Ones takes more than a ramshackle circle and a single High Priest. We’d need most of the Order to accomplish such a thing.” Turning his gaze to Ella, Stanley’s eyes narrowed and his fingers tightened on the long, thin ritual blade he held in his hand. “Now, shut up and hold her down. It’s time to make her bleed.”
Oh,
hell
no.
Again, Kees roared. It sounded like a pride of angry lions chewing on a bagpipe, loud, fierce, predatory, and slightly otherworldly. He had turned his back on the three mages he was fighting, and the fools thought they would take advantage of his inattention. They converged on him from behind, two throwing spells with manic abandon while the third drew a dagger black with evil magic and shoved it hard into the Guardian’s side.
It took every ounce of willpower Ella possessed not to scream and jump to her feet. The
nocturnis
had dared to injure her Guardian, and she burned to make him pay. She would never get the chance. In a move of eerie preternatural grace, Kees whirled around, claws extended, and tore the dagger-wielding mage’s head clean off his shoulders. It fell to the ground with a solid, wet thud, but Kees just continued to move. The other two facing him went down in seconds, throats and bellies town open and spilling to the ground in hot rivulets of gore.
Even Ella shivered a little. She knew the Guardian raged in her behalf. The possessiveness and rage were easy to pick out, but the panic startled her. Any Guardian would be angry if a human were threatened, and the fact that he considered her to be under his care would make it even worse for Kees. He would feel as if he were failing her to see her facing death, but why would he panic? Panic implied that he would be emotionally hurt if she were to die, and for that, he needed to care.
For that, he needed to love her.
It looked like she and her Guardian would need to have a little chat after this.
Provided there was an “after this.”
Wiggling the fingers of her left hand, Ella caught the drawstring of the small pouch that held her salt and hooked it around her pinkie, then closed her palm into a fist. Her right hand was still a good three inches away from her knife hilt, so she would have to give this everything she had.
And pray.
She waited a long, creeping instant until she felt McQuaid reach for her hair. A slit throat, she knew, would spill the most blood, and blood was what would power the summoning, so McQuaid would want to pull back her head to expose all those convenient veins.
The moment she felt fingers brush the back of her head, Ella sprang. Her left hand shot out, spraying salt across the boundary of the circle, breaking the magical plane. Her right hand snatched her knife from the sheath on her belt and in the same motion swung it toward the detective, drawing a smooth arc across the surface of his stomach.
She didn’t wait to see if she’d injured him. She threw herself forward, following the path of the salt and hurling herself out of the circle with every bit of her strength. She heard a man scream and assumed it was McQuaid because over the top of the pained cry, Stanley cursed in foul, angry language.
Ella landed hard enough to knock the wind out of herself and lay there, momentarily dazed. She felt hands reach for her and immediately knew from the size and familiar touch to whom they belonged. Kees rolled her gently to her back and raked his gaze over her with frantic concern.
“Are you all right? Where are you hurt? Tell me.”
She opened her mouth to reassure him, to let him know that aside from having trouble catching her equilibrium and feeling as drained as if she’d just run back-to-back marathons, she felt fine. Then she heard the scream.
She and Kees turned as one and saw immediately what had happened. Patrick Stanley stood inside the boundary of his destroyed circle, his face lit with fire and madness. Blood covered his hands and dripped down the blade of his knife to soak into the earth beside the body of Detective McQuaid.
Ella swallowed hard as nausea and understanding rushed through her. Deprived of his blood sacrifice by Ella’s escape, Stanley had been unwilling to abandon the summoning. Instead, he had turned on his associate and made McQuaid a victim of opportunity. The
nocturnis
High Priest was determined to have his demon, and for that he needed more blood.
“Shit. Kees!” She grabbed his arm and tugged as the sound of Stanley’s chanted spell welled up into the clearing. “The blood sacrifice. He’s summoning a demon. Right now. He’s doing it right fucking
now
.”
Kees swore and Ella looked up at his face. She could see the exhaustion in his eyes. The battle with the mages and the injuries that still bled sluggishly all over his body had taken their toll. She realized in a flash that she didn’t know for certain if he would survive a fight with a demon.
The air inside the circle shimmered with a slimy blackness that resembled nothing so much as a toxic oil spill on ocean water. Ella cursed and tried to push to her feet even as the Dark power began to take shape. She saw an arm emerge, then what looked like the top of a head began pressing against the blackness like a moving animal trapped under a blanket.
Kees held out an arm and tried to push Ella backwards. Furious, she grabbed the edge of his wing and yanked. Hard. He snarled and looked down at her.
“You can’t do this, Kees. You’re tired, and you’re hurt. I can see it. You can’t take on a demon. Not right now. Let me do this.”
“Are you insane, woman?” He barked, “Let you, a human, an untrained mage, take on a demon by yourself? That blow to the head I saw you take must have caused more damage than I thought. I will never let you put yourself in such danger. I cannot. Your lack of faith in me aside, it is my duty to put myself in front of you, and if I were to die there, so be it.”
“But I don’t want you to die,” she told him, gazing up at him with everything she felt for him glowing on her face. She knew it had to be there; she could practically feel it. “I want you to live, Kees. I want us both to live, for a very long time, and I’m afraid that this will be too much for you.”
“Fate will out.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “Screw Fate. I’m not going to stand aside and hope She’s in a good mood tonight. I’ll make you a deal. If you want to face down a demon, fine, but you do it beside me, not in front of me.” She placed her hand against his, the same hands the Warden Alan pressed together when he’d performed the binding spell just days before. “We’re stronger together, remember?”
She saw that he wanted to argue, saw the fierce battle he fought not to simply steamroll right over her. When she squeezed his hand and gave a little push of magic—just a reminder, really, that while human, she wasn’t helpless—he groaned. Then he collected himself and nodded.
“Together,” he growled.
They turned back to the circle as one. The demon’s head and shoulders had made it through the portal. It had both hands on the ground and its black claws dug into the earth as it tried to drag the rest of itself forward out of the oily blackness.
It was a vile-looking creature, stretched out and misshapen, with spines growing out of its back like extensions of its vertebrae. Its arms appeared disproportionately long compared to the width of its shoulders and had an additional joint in the middle, like an extra elbow. It had the head of something primitive and featureless, like a lamprey, just a giant maw with rows and rows of teeth. It didn’t even appear to have eyes or a nose, just that mouth, gaping wide and drooling.
Ella suppressed a shudder.
The demon struggled forward, and Stanley’s chanting grew even louder, almost frantic in both tone and volume. Ella could feel Kees tensing beside her, preparing himself for an attack, and she knew she couldn’t wait. She had to try now.
Dropping his hand, she lifted hers in front of her and reached for the last of the energy inside her. She wished she could take the time to dig down and call upon the Source, but she knew she’d already waited as long as she dared. She couldn’t take the time. Pulling together every strand and scrap, Ella hastily built her spell and cast it toward the shimmering gate.
“Claudite ostium!”
Stanley’s concentration broke and the demonic portal closed. The demon shrieked, a sound so bloodcurdling, Ella actually had to clasp her hands over her ears and swallow hard to keep from echoing the scream. Even muffled, she could hear it, and she could feel it in her bones, like spikes of icy metal shooting through her marrow. There was nothing human in the sound, and even Kees looked pained to hear it.
Just as Ella suspected, the spell had some gruesome consequences. Cut off from the plane it had been summoned from, the demon had fallen to the ground, where it continued to writhe and shriek. Thick, black blood poured from the stumps of its severed legs and pooled on the ground. Unlike with McQuaid’s blood, which while evil had ultimately been human, the earth seemed to recognize the corruption in the demon’s blood and reject it. Smoke rose from the spots where the blood touched, and instead of soaking in, it appeared to boil off like water in a pan.
“You meddling bitch!” Stanley screamed, nearly foaming at the mouth in his rage. He stepped forward and raised his hands in Ella’s direction, but whatever spell he had intended never materialized. Maybe he had assumed the demon was as good as destroyed, or maybe fury and arrogance had simply clouded his judgment; either way, his movements brought him a fraction too close to the wounded demon.
In a blinding instant, the demon struck. Legless or not, the demon was injured, weakened, and instinct would dictate it needed strength to survive. For that, it would have to feed. It darted out a hand and curled it around Stanley’s ankle, jerking the man off his feet. The
nocturnis
screamed, a sound of mingled surprise and terror just before the creature fell on him. Its hands ripped open his chest cavity, and it reached forward, plucking out the still-beating heart. It devoured the organ in a loud, slurping gulp.