Vengeance of the Demon: Demon Novels, Book Seven (Kara Gillian 7) (36 page)

“I hate seeing you hurt.” I wrapped my arms around her.

She smiled and leaned her head against mine. “I am not certain I would associate with you if you enjoyed it.”

I laughed, but it felt strange and weak. “This was a flesh wound,” I said, “but what if the bullet had hit something more vital?” I let out a shuddering breath.
Stop it, Kara.
I didn’t need to convince her or myself. Eilahn opened her mouth to reply, but I cut her off. “I love you. You are very dear to me.” Releasing her, I stood and backed away as grief surged up to drown me. “I’m sorry,” I gasped. “I have to do this.”

Eilahn’s forehead wrinkled in confusion but only for a second. Through the open kitchen door, Idris worked the dismissal, formed and readied in this last minute I’d spent with her.

Heedless of her injury, she shot to her feet as the flows wrapped around her. “Dahn.
Dahn!
” She flung a hand out toward me, pleading and furious. A stench of rotten eggs filled the air, and an unseen wind whipped around us. “Jhivral, dahn!”
Please, no!

I stepped back, tears streaming. “I’m sorry!” I cried out. “I’ll send Fuzzykins and the kittens as soon as I can. I promise!”

Eilahn let out an inhuman screech as a rent of blinding white light opened in the fabric of the universe behind her. A sharp
crack
rattled the house, and she and the light vanished.

We got out of there as fast as possible. I didn’t trust McDunn—or Tessa, for that matter—not to call the cops on us once they were clear, but we made it to Pellini’s truck with no issues.

“Eilahn’s motorcycle.” I scanned the area in dismay. “We need to get it back to the house, and I don’t know how to ride one.” I finally spied it further down the street, tucked between two cars.

“On the truck?” Idris suggested.

“Would be tough to get it loaded up without a ramp,” Pellini said. “Plus, we’d need straps to keep it from falling over.” But then he shrugged. “I can ride it. Always wanted to try out a Ducati.”

“Perfect!” I said and decided not to ask how skilled he was. At this point it didn’t matter since he couldn’t be worse than Idris or me. Pellini was turning out to have one hell of an eclectic skill set. I handed him the spare key from my key ring while he gave me the truck’s.

“It’s too bad you can’t take the bike home, Kara,” Idris said with a grimace. “That way Pellini and I could go symmetrize the node in the Kreeger River.”

“I’ll tag along with y’all,” I said. “That’s an hour wasted if you take me home first.” The itchy crawly feel of my un-showered skin ramped up a notch, but I plastered on an accommodating smile. “Y’all can put up with my stench.”

Pellini let out a bark of laughter. “Nah,
Idris
can put up with it. I’ll be on the bike.”

“You owe me one,” Idris said to Pellini with a
hint
of a smile. “You up for talking me through another symmetrization?”

“Sure, but if anyone has to dangle from a rope this time, it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me.”

 • • • 

Pellini hadn’t lied about knowing how to ride a bike. He crammed Eilahn’s helmet onto his head then zoomed off with damn near as much panache as the syraza. After a block he slowed to let us catch up then led the way out of town. To add to Pellini’s streak of being handy in a variety of ways, he also knew a place not far from the bridge where we could rent a boat, which scratched the need for anyone to dangle from the bridge. After anchoring near the node, Idris and Pellini symmetrized while I leaned back, closed my eyes, and thought as little as possible. I especially didn’t think about how I’d lost both my aunt and a dear friend less than an hour earlier. Nope, not one bit.

Despite the added challenge of working with a valve node in a river, Pellini and Idris managed to finish up in under thirty minutes. As we motored back to the boat rental place I considered how good it would feel to jump into the water and rinse off the surface grime. However, the sight of a water moccasin as thick as my forearm slithering into the river put a hard stop to that line of thinking. We’d be home in under an hour, and my shower was blissfully free of snakes—venomous or otherwise.

Pellini mounted the Ducati and fell in behind us for the drive home. Idris was broody and quiet, which I understood, but just could
not
handle right now. In an effort to save what was left of my sanity, I launched into the tale of Angry Chick, Young Thing, Rich Bitch, and the rest of my inmate experience. Much more fun to relate now that it wasn’t an immediate threat, and Idris appeared to enjoy hearing it. He needed the mental break as much as I did. In return he told me about the hijinks that ensued when he and Bryce retrieved the camera from the tree near the Katashi base and ran afoul of a furious squirrel. I wasn’t sure how much of it was true, but it made me laugh, which I sorely needed.

I started to tell him about Tolya Gresh but sucked in a sharp gasp as an achingly familiar presence washed through me.
Mzatal! But how
 . . . 
?
He was deeply worried or upset. Had something happened in the demon realm? Maybe strong emotions could bridge the distance in our bond.

“Kara? You okay?” Idris peered at me in concern.

“Yeah, I—” My phone rang. Bryce. “Hang on,” I said then hit the answer button for the hands-free. “Hey, Bryce.”

“Mzatal is
here
,” Bryce said over the car speakers, voice low and strained. “Where are you?”

“Wait,
what?
” I blurted before my brain could get into gear. “Here where? There? At the house?”
Well, that explains why I can feel him!
I thought in shock.

Idris stared at me with wide-eyed dismay.
The valve?
he mouthed. I could only reply with a helpless shrug. Surely Mzatal wouldn’t risk destabilizing the pond valve by passing through it? Yet I couldn’t think of any other explanation for how he could be here on Earth.

The next voice we heard was Mzatal’s. “Zharkat. Where are you?”

Idris flapped his hands and then grabbed his head in a
What the holy crapping hell is going on, and is he insane???
gesture that I had no trouble translating. I’d have done the same thing if not for the pesky fact that I was driving.

“I’m less than a minute away!” I said as I punched the gas. “You used the valve?”

“To reach you. I await you on the nexus.”

I clamped down on colorful language as I sped along the highway. “Stay put right there!” I jammed the button to hang up in order to better pay attention to driving.

The instant I disconnected Idris let out a strangled noise. “He must have felt it was worth the risk to stress the valve like that,” he said, aghast as he fought to rationalize Mzatal’s actions. He gulped and shook his head. “I guess he really needs you for something?”

A lump of unease took up residence in my stomach. What could have driven Mzatal to such an extreme? “We need to barricade that valve,” I said. “And by ‘we’ I mean you and Pellini. I’m going to have to try and explain what needs to be done based on what Kadir taught me at the plantation about creating a barricade seal. As soon as Mzatal leaves we can do that. Otherwise we’re going to have lords dropping in right and left until the damn thing ruptures. Kadir said it would be disastrous, and we don’t need any more—” I cut off my stream of babbling as I punched the remote for the gate, cursing as the thing swung open at a snail’s pace. The instant I had sufficient clearance I zoomed through then remembered Pellini on the bike behind me. “Crap. Pellini has no clue why I’m driving like a maniac,” I said as I raced up the driveway. “Will you explain?”

Idris said something I assumed was a yes, but it was drowned out by the spray of gravel as I careened to a stop in front of the house. I threw off my seatbelt, jumped out of the truck and took off toward the backyard at a run.

Mzatal stood on the nexus, feet planted wide and hands clasped behind his back. His eyes locked onto me as I came into sight. He looked glorious and badass, dressed in black silk trousers and tunic with shimmering patterns of blood red. I wanted to be angry and demand a reason for why the hell he’d risked the valve, but instead I ran to the center of the nexus and threw my arms around him with a sob.

The smell of smoke and sulfur surrounded him like a cologne of Badass as he swept me into an embrace. Abruptly aware of my own far less sexy aroma, I tried to pull away, but he held me close, his mouth finding mine. Our connection flared into full presence, and my petty worries about my unwashed state dropped away. I held him close and kissed him with desperate passion, lost myself in it and in him. The bond engulfed me, and I opened fully, sharing with him all the despair and pain of the days since I’d seen him last. His love met mine, merged into a joyous union as we held each other close.

After an eternity I broke the kiss, pulled back enough to search his face. “Boss,” I said, speaking the word as the endearment it was. “Why are you here?”

“Eilahn came to me but moments ago as I engaged an anomaly in Rhyzkahl’s realm,” Mzatal said, voice low but no less intense. “She told me of your grievous plight—the sundering of your arcane senses.” His eyes remained on mine as he stroked the backs of his fingers over my cheek then pushed a strand of hair from my temple. “I saw you in shadow form on Rhyzkahl’s terrace not a full day ago, and within hours he sent a woman to me with no explanation.” Deep concern darkened his eyes as he read the details from me. “You have an agreement with him.” His tone held no jealousy or accusation, only worry and a desire to protect me.

“I do what I must,” I said with a slight quaver.

“I cannot restore your abilities, zharkat,” he said. Frustration and deep regret filled the bond. “Perhaps later I will be able to—”

“It’s all right,” I said. Strangely enough, it was. My abilities weren’t a priority at the moment. I caressed him through our bond and cupped his cheek in one hand. “Beloved.” I drew a shuddering breath. “You shouldn’t have come here.” He’d abandoned the other lords during a crisis and traveled through an unstable valve because he was worried about me. In the scope of one wavelength of light, the act was a priceless, romantic gesture. But within the full spectrum, it bordered on self-serving madness. During the plantation battle, Rhyzkahl had taunted Mzatal that I would be his downfall. I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but now I understood.

Pain deepened the shadows in his face. “How could I not when you are at such risk?” His awareness of his folly resonated through the bond, as did more: He didn’t want to be the Mzatal who could set aside worry for me—or others. That Mzatal was closed to such petty distractions. Closed to all but that which served to achieve his goals.

Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Your world is at greater risk than I am. Both our worlds are.” I placed my hands on his chest, gathered the silk of his tunic into my fingers. “Oh, Mzatal,” I breathed. “I saw you. I watched you engage the anomaly and lead the other lords. You were
brilliant,
and I have never loved you more or been more proud.” I clung to him, held him close by my grip on the silk. My throat clogged to where I could barely speak. “That’s who you need to be, for the sake of our worlds. Without distractions.” He drew breath to protest, but I rushed to continue. “Because of the love we hold for each other, we must both fully commit to our causes, or else all will be lost, and that love will be for nothing.” My heart screamed at me to stop at that and speak no more, but I plunged on. “You can’t hope to succeed in this without your blade.” Essence-deep agony flared with my words. “You
must
call Khatur and . . . fully commit.” I wept openly as he wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

“Zharkat, I cannot.” A shiver passed through him, of denial, of horror.
Fully commit.
Terrible implications echoed within the two words. “I
cannot.
” His voice broke. Closing off was a desolate and isolated prison of his own making, near as dire as the submersion Szerain endured.

And I had to convince him to step into the cell and lock the door behind him. “We fight a war on two different fronts.” I reached for the thick rope of his braid, drew it over his shoulder and gave it a tug. Desperate emotion twisted his face at the simple gesture that meant so much to us. A secret and wicked joy, a shared passion. Dying inside, I released the braid. “We . . . we had our time in the sun, but we dare not indulge any longer. Not if our worlds are to stand a chance of survival.”

“Zharkat—”

“You
always
do what is needed, beloved,” I said in little more than a whisper. I tipped my head up to his. “You must do this.
We
must do this.” I swallowed. “Together we can do anything.”
Even if we aren’t together.

A long sigh shuddered from him. He cradled my head to his chest and remained still for a long moment. When he spoke, the words flowed through the connection and resonated through my skull.

“It is the only way.”

I slid my arms around him, beneath his shirt to the skin of his back. I memorized the feel of him, his body against mine, the steady beat of his heart against my cheek. I drank him in, knowing it would never be enough.

And now we must each go to our own distant battles.
My hand went to the back of his neck, and I drew him down for a kiss. Our parting kiss, perhaps our last one. He knew it as much as I, and we joined with all the desperation and pain and love and grief and joy that had brought us to this point. He broke the kiss, cradled my face, and rested his forehead against mine. The world retreated and we simply Were.
United.
Timeless. Infinite.

And now I
knew
. The first time we’d made love, Mzatal had shared the universe with me like this, forehead to forehead.
That
was when he’d instinctually forged our essence bond.

Mzatal’s confirmation enveloped me. In the vastness of the void, he asked if I regretted the union. Asked if I wished to sunder it. In answer I drew our consciousness higher, entwined, reveled in the freedom and the expansion. Though our bond would be silenced, it would remain for eternity.

Eventually, I covered his hands with mine, forced myself to pull away, kissed his palms, stepped back. “Go, beloved,” I murmured. “Unleash hell.”

Resolve settled over him. He squeezed my hands and released them. “
Tah zhar lahn, eturnik
.”
I love you, eternally.

“
Tah zhar lahn, eturnik
,” I echoed as my heart broke into a million pieces.

His hands closed into fists to call potency as anger kindled at the
injustice
of our situation. Rage crackled through our bond, and his breath hissed through clenched teeth.

Dread and grief flooded me as his fury escalated toward a flare—an arcane burst potent enough to reduce my entire property to ash. This was the toll he paid for daring to be open
and
maintain his essence blade—uncontrolled fury that now only affirmed our decision.