Legacy of the Demon (43 page)

“I volunteer,” Bryce said instantly, chin up and expression fierce. “I'll go be Dekkak's hostage.”

My shoulders slumped. Of course Bryce would volunteer. That was the kind of guy he was. “No,” I said, wincing as he tensed. “I'm sorry, Bryce, but you're needed here.” He drew breath to protest, and I added, “Seretis needs you here.”

“Goddammit, Kara,” he growled. “You don't get to decide what's best for him. I should be there—” He broke off, staggering from Suarez's friendly slap on the back.

Suarez grabbed his shoulder to steady him. “Beggin' your pardon, sir, but you're kinda full of shit.” As Bryce goggled at him, Suarez gave him a nice, affable smile. “Your buddy Sary-tess needs you safe and sound so he don't have t'worry 'bout you. And this place needs you to stay here 'cause you take care of everything and everyone. And Miss Kara needs you so she don't have to fret 'bout security.” He paused. An instant later Bryce's face went white as Suarez's hand tightened on his shoulder. “But most of all, Miss Jill needs you.” His face remained congenial, but his eyes held reproach. “Which means you can't be runnin' off havin' all the fun.” He released his grip then turned to me. “I volunteer, Miss Kara. I ain't got no family to miss me other than everyone here, and it'd be an honor to represent y'all in the demon world.”

It took me a few seconds to find my voice. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“More than I ever been in my whole life, ma'am. And I know in my heart that you got what it takes to get your part done. I'll be home afore you know it.”

My throat tightened, but I managed a nod.

The air vibrated in a now-familiar resonance. Suarez and Bryce stepped back as Dekkak emerged from the sinkhole-rift with a person-shaped object gripped in one clawed hand, and the horde swarming around her. Slugthing followed, its color shifting in rapid patterns of deep blue and near fluorescent pink.

Cold dismay swept over me. Instead of Elinor, Dekkak held the broken body of a tactical-geared agent. The imperator hissed through her teeth and tossed the body to land on the nexus, crumpled against the trunk of the grove tree.

Sickened, I forced my gaze away. I'd grieve and cry and wallow later. For now I scanned the demons, anxiety rising as the arcane sinkhole snapped shut with no sign of Elinor.
No no no no no!
If Dekkak hadn't retrieved Elinor, I'd caused a lot of people to get hurt or killed for nothing.

A heartbeat before I freaked completely the fuck out, Slugthing opened its maw and barfed a slime-covered Elinor out to flop bonelessly on the grass just beyond Rhyzkahl's orbit.

I raced to her and cleared her nose and mouth with shaking hands. An instant later Giovanni was at my side, damn near tearing her away from me to cradle her close.

“Elinor.” Tears streamed down his face as he held her to him. “God is in his heaven, and I have my Elinor back.”

She was breathing, but I wasn't surprised that she remained unconscious. My aunt Tessa had stayed in a coma for weeks after she lost her essence to the Symbol Man's ritual.

Unfortunately, I hadn't warned Giovanni. His distress rose as Elinor's eyes failed to flutter open to see the face of her beloved.

“Why won't she wake up?” Giovanni demanded of Dekkak.

Her lips curled back as she hissed at the puny human who dared address her.

I cleared my throat. “Elinor is okay. Trust me?”

Giovanni didn't seem the least bit convinced, but he gave me the barest of nods.

Dekkak flicked her wing and, as one, her mutant demons bounded, flew, and slithered into the rift. “I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, summoner,” she growled, deep and malevolent.

I expected her to add
Now it's your turn
or something along those lines, but apparently she didn't feel I needed the reminder. She was right, too. No way would I forget an onus of that magnitude, but at the moment I was happy to see the ugly ass end of those demons.

Dekkak turned her attention to Suarez. “Divest yourself of clothing and weapons.”

Suarez obligingly unholstered both of his handguns and set them on the grass then pulled a backup piece from his right ankle and a knife from his left. His body armor followed, then he stripped off his shirt, surprising me with the unbelievable amount of hair that covered his body, a bizarre contrast to his egg-smooth bald head. The only spot that wasn't covered in fur
was an eight inch wide shaved circle on his back where yet another pistol and holster were duct-taped between his shoulder blades.

I smothered a laugh that I knew would be incredibly inappropriate considering the horrendous circumstances, but Suarez merely caught my eye and gave me a broad wink. He unlaced his boots and tossed them aside, but when he dropped his pants to reveal the knives strapped to each thigh, I wasn't the only one who gave in to laughter.

“For the love of god, Suarez,” Bryce said, a ghost of a smile rippling his stoic mask. “If you're carrying more armament up your ass, fucking wait until you're in the rift to pull it out.”

Suarez stepped out of his pants then grabbed Bryce in a fierce hug. Terror flashed across Suarez's face, almost too quickly to see before he buried it under a wide, though shaky, grin. “Only weapon I got up there is from them burritos Tandon cooked up for lunch, and I'm savin' it 'til we get there.”

“That's my man,” Bryce said, though his voice cracked on the last word.

Suarez stepped back and turned to me. “It's been a real honor to work for you, Miss Kara.”

“You still work for me, Suarez,” I said fiercely then spoiled it by sniffling. “I expect a full report when I see you again.”

“Will do, ma'am,” he said with an echo of my sniffle. He took one last look at everybody, dropped his boxers to reveal an ass with more hair than I thought was humanly possible, then walked head high to the imperator.

“Reporting as ordered, Miss Dekkak.”

The imperator gestured to the rift as if inviting Suarez to take a dip in a pool.

Comprehension broke over his face. He shot Bryce an I'm-so-fucked-but-fuck-if-they'll-beat-me smile, shrugged fatalistically, then sauntered to the lip of the rift. He stood there a moment, staring down into the shifting magenta light, then called out, “Later, y'all!” and took a step forward and tumbled out of sight.

Dekkak bellowed and leaped after him then was gone.

“Bryce, any casualty reports yet?” I kept my voice nice and even, but my stomach was doing pretzel imitations.

“Still coming in,” Bryce said, tablet in hand and eyes on the screen. “So far they're reporting fourteen injured, four seriously.” He looked up at me. “No fatalities reported, but a
handful of personnel haven't been accounted for yet.” His eyes didn't so much as twitch toward the body on the nexus, but it didn't matter. I knew it was there.

“Thanks.” One dead for certain. But not the dozens I'd feared. I closed my eyes and gave myself a count of ten to savor the victories, however small, before I had to deal with the rest.

“You okay with me telling the DIRT squads to stand down?” Pellini asked.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my gritty eyes. “In fact, you can dismiss them. They won't be needed here.” I turned to Giovanni. “All right, let's—”

“She does not wake!” Distress shone in his eyes. “Why does she not wake?”

“Elinor is . . . incomplete.” I sighed. “Her essence is still glued to mine, so she can't be, er, switched on.”

He gazed down at his beloved and gently wiped the goop from her face.

But something was wrong apart from the missing essence. She wasn't awake, yet there was an awareness. Just like when she'd been aware of the people in her room and the ticking clock. I was no mind reader, but Elinor and I had an intimate connection. I took her hand then flinched as her fear ripped through me like an primal scream. Why?

With the physical contact, I
knew.

Because she doesn't know she's here and safe
. The majority of her perception had been through me, but whatever Xharbek had done to her in these last hours left her too freaked to pay attention to what I was doing.

I sat in the grass across from Giovanni. “Talk to her,” I said. “Reassure her, and tell her that you're with her, that she's safe.” I paused. “But you need to say it to
me.
”

He stared at me as if I was insane. “To you?”

“To me. Trust me. Look right into my eyes and go for it.”

Giovanni gave Elinor an uncertain look then squared his shoulders and drilled his gaze into mine. “My beloved Elinor. My heart fills with joy to have you safe in my arms.” He continued to shower words of adoration at her through me, with impressive eloquence and uninhibited passion.

Yeah, this was fucking weird. But I had to hand it to him, the dude was giving it his all. I focused on taking in everything
about him—not only his words, but his accent, the way his mouth moved, the way the light breeze ruffled his hair.

Elinor's body didn't so much as twitch, but around the time Giovanni was raving about the radiance of her skin, the scream eased off to distressed moans and whimpers. I waited to see if it would subside more, but no. Before Giovanni could launch into the perfection of her breasts, I held up my hand to stop him. “You did good. She's a little calmer now.”

A hand touched my shoulder. I glanced up to give Pellini a smile of reassurance, then scrambled to my feet, heart thundering. Bryce and Pellini gave matching shouts of alarm and surprise, as both had been focused on the occupying Jontari demons.

Rhyzkahl
. Out.

We were at the perimeter of his orbit, but he was
outside
it. Purple lightning bursts flickered over him, and writhing chains of potency trailed back to the rift-breach of his orbit, as if he'd emerged from viscous slime—Mzatal's protections clinging to him but diminished by the disruption. Sweat plastered Rhyzkahl's shirt to his chest, and his face spasmed from the pain of the wards.

Giovanni pulled Elinor close, his expression defiant though he shrank back from the threat of the lord. I reached for potency from the nexus even as Pellini and Bryce drew weapons a dozen feet away. The arcane answered my call in a sluggish flow, depleted by the drain of the summoning and disrupted by the straying of its Rhyzkahl-battery. Yet answer it did, though I wasn't at all certain it would be enough to take him down. “Return to your orbit, Rhyzkahl,” I commanded.

“No, Kara Gillian,” he said through gritted teeth.

I sent the potency into my hand to coalesce into a shimmering azure globe. “You know I'll win this challenge,” I said, hoping it to be true. “Save yourself the pain and retreat.”

“You can use that potency to smite me,” he said, voice strained, “or you can use it to aid Elinor. Can you not feel her anguish?”

I blinked. Elinor. The one he had named zharkat. He hadn't fought through Mzatal's wards to deal with me, or even to escape. He'd fought through them for
her
.

He met my eyes. “Trust me in this, if in nothing else.”

Giovanni glared. “We will not succumb to your trickery.”

“When have I
ever
harmed her, Giovanni Racchelli?”
Rhyzkahl winced as Elinor's mental whimpers twisted into a scream again. He seemed to hear them as clearly as I did. “It is
you
who prolong her suffering by denying me.”

“Rhyzkahl is right, Giovanni,” I said quietly. “In this one matter, I do trust him.” He had loved Elinor—and still loved her—as much as he could love anyone after being manipulated, suppressed, and emotionally crippled by the demahnk. “You need to allow this. Elinor is suffering.”

The last bit seemed to get through to Giovanni. He eased his death grip on her and gave an oh-so-reluctant nod.

“What do you need?” I asked Rhyzkahl.

“To hold her.”

I wondered just how much of that was his personal need versus a requirement to help her, but decided it really didn't matter at the moment. With care, I tapped into the nexus and did my best to temper the wards so they weren't quite so painful, though I didn't dare ease them too much. “We can take her into your orbit.”

“Your adjustments were sufficient. I am here now.” Rhyzkahl dropped to one knee beside Giovanni and Elinor, then lifted her from her lover's arms. He cradled her close and murmured softly in demon.

I took her hand again to better monitor her condition—and Rhyzkahl's actions.

Giovanni looked on, his expression a mix of distress and worry.

Rhyzkahl traced three pygahs on her forehead—potent sigils, not thready and pale like they'd been for the past two months. “Kara, simple support,” he said. “Please.”

I dragged my thoughts from the implications of a fully arcane-functional Rhyzkahl and quickly sketched a half dozen glowing sigils that I set spinning beside him.

He bent to rest his forehead against hers, his hair curtaining their faces.

A gentle serenity welled in me, despite all that had transpired, and despite this surreal tableau of Giovanni, Elinor, and Rhyzkahl. Familiar and comforting. The grove. Rho. I released a soft breath and placed my free hand on Rhyzkahl's shoulder.

Warmth shimmered through me like a summer breeze and flowed to Rhyzkahl. He tensed beneath my hand, then eased. For a time, neither of us moved and nothing changed, then Elinor's mental cry softened and stilled, leaving me in strange silence.

Rhyzkahl lifted his head. “I have not the reserves nor the means to restore her,” he said, his voice laden with exhaustion and regret.

“You've done enough,” I said, hand still on him.

He kissed her forehead then transferred her back to Giovanni's arms. “I failed to do enough when it mattered,” he said as he staggered to his feet.

Without another word, Rhyzkahl retreated to the breach, feet dragging as if he barely had the energy to move. The lightning wards slithered from him as he crossed the perimeter, and he collapsed into the remains of trampled purple irises.