Fury of the Demon (Kara Gillian) (5 page)

I lifted a hand to his cheek. “First contain it, then we get Idris, and
then
we wring it out of Rhyzkahl.”

“First you, then Idris. Yes,” he said softy, and I felt him pygah and calm. “It is best if you sleep deeply while we create the containment. Will you acquiesce?”

“I’ll never argue with naptime,” I told him lightly.

A faint smile brushed his lips, then he leaned in, kissed me, and sent me to sleep.

I woke in bed to the sight of morning sunlight playing on the shimmering leaves of the grove beyond the southern window wall. A couple of feet away, Jekki crouched on his two hind legs and, with his other four paws, carefully held a hot mug of coffee ready and waiting for me. Damn, but I was spoiled.

“Jekki, you’re amazing,” I said with a sleepy smile.

The little blue
faas
chittered, purple iridescence shimmering over his pelt as his long and sinuous tail twisted. “Hell-o, how . . . arrrrre you. I am fine! Have a niiiiiice day. Earth!”

It took a lot of effort, but I managed to contain my laughter. I sat up and took the mug from him. “That was excellent,” I told him. “You can also use ‘What’s up?’ and ‘Have a good one!’” I resisted the urge to teach him
Hasta la vista, baby.

He peered at me, blinking his large bright golden eyes. “One of what?”

“Er, a day or moment or encounter,” I said, then shrugged. “It’s fairly vague.”

“Okie dokie!” he burbled. “Have a goooood one! Buh-bye!” And with that he zipped out.

Remarkably cheered by the exchange with the clever demon, I sipped my coffee and conducted a quick personal assessment. I felt great, to my immense relief. I didn’t know exactly what Mzatal and Elofir had done, but not only did I no longer feel weird-tingly-odd, my twisted knee and various other dings and scratches were as good as new.

Yep. Definitely spoiled. I finished my coffee, quickly bathed and dressed, then sat like a good girl so that the faas Faruk could braid my hair into something that looked a tad nicer than Unkempt Mop. As soon as she burbled her satisfaction with the result, I gave her a thanks and a head pat, then headed to the plexus.

I was two steps past the entrance to the solarium when it registered that someone was asleep on the broad sofa. Mzatal? I jerked to a stop and wheeled back, then exhaled softly in relief as I realized it was Elofir. He lay spooned up against a sleeping dark-haired woman, his arm draped over her. I couldn’t help but smile at the tender sight. The woman was Michelle Cleland—a former drug addict who’d ended up in the demon realm as a “sacrifice” from the Symbol Man serial killer to Rhyzkahl.

Ironically, it had probably saved her life. No longer a strung-out crack whore, Michelle had bloomed into a lovely young woman, clever and quick-witted. Moreover, she and Elofir had formed a deep attachment to rival the one I shared with Mzatal. She’d been sent to the demonic lord Vahl when she first arrived but had found her home with Elofir.

The two looked utterly adorable curled up together like that, but as I continued down the hall, it clicked that the containment of the arcane virus must have been exceedingly difficult. The lords only needed sleep for a night every eight to ten days or after great exertion, and I highly doubted Elofir’s current slumber was simply from normal fatigue.

With that unsettling thought, I continued on and successfully located Mzatal in the plexus chamber, relieved to find him awake and aware. He stood before the pedestal and basin in the center of the room adroitly working planet-stabilizing potency with practiced precision. Each of the lords maintained his own plexus, and if any shirked in their responsibilities, the entire world suffered. Every lord did his share. It was the
one
thing they all agreed on.

Two
ilius
—Wuki and Dakdak—lay curled in the cushions like shifting multicolored smoke with hints of fangs, eyes, and sinuous bodies. A third, Tata, ceaselessly coiled and uncoiled beside Mzatal, waist-high, its eyes steadily visible and focused on the plexus flows. They were three of the dozen or so third-level demons that made their home in and around the palace. In the demon realm, ilius fit into the niche of arcane vultures, feeding on stray essence from dead or dying creatures. When I’d summoned them to Earth, I’d paid them with nutria which seemed to work well for all concerned except perhaps the nutria. I’d also thought of them as being fairly low in sentience and intelligence, little more than arcane bloodhounds I used to help me occasionally on cases. However, even though I still couldn’t communicate with them worth a damn, Mzatal had deep affinity with the creatures and actually consulted with them.

Mzatal’s eyes remained on the blue-green strands and the pair of glowing orbs before him, but I felt his awareness of me as well as his assessment of my well-being. After I patiently waited a few minutes, he anchored the strands then moved to me, touched my cheek with the back of his fingers. He looked much better today, I noted. The stress and dismay no longer vibrated through him, which served to relieve the last traces of my own anxiety.

I gave him a light kiss. “I feel fine now. It’s all going to be okay,” I said, reassuring us both.

A surprisingly gentle smile touched his mouth. He rested a hand against my cheek, caressed it with his thumb. “Yes, the containment was successful.”

“Perfect. Because in about five minutes I’m going outside. I’m going to nail down the seventh ring today, and then you can culminate it.” I referred to the seventh ring of the shikvihr—a powerful ritual consisting of eleven rings of eleven sigils each. Mastery of each ring significantly augmented a summoner’s focus and mastery of potency. Moreover, the completion of all eleven rings gave the ability to create and use floating sigils, or “floaters,” on Earth rather than only in the demon realm. The ability to use floaters meant a huge advantage in speed and effectiveness over chalk and blood drawings. Mastering all eleven rings was a rare accomplishment, but I intended to beat the odds and take home the This Summoner Kicks All the Ass Award.

“You will have it by midday,” he said with utter confidence.

I grinned. “Damn straight.”

He glanced to the strands to make sure they still held, then slipped an arm around my waist. “If all agreements are made satisfactorily today,” he said as we exited the plexus, “it is my intention to set the ritual to send you to Earth for mid-afternoon today. Kadir arrives soon to begin preparations.”

I stopped dead and stared at him. “Whoa. Hang on.” I held up a hand. “You want
him
to assist you in the ritual? You expect me to get inside a diagram with him at the controls?”

Mzatal gave me a small frown. “Under agreement, there is no better choice.”

“I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “He’s one of
them.
And, for that matter, why was he here yesterday?”

He put his hands on my shoulders. “He was here yesterday under a long-standing agreement allowing him access to the Little Waterfall. It helps him maintain stability.” He paused, gathering thoughts to explain. “Kadir and I have a history that extends far beyond his association with the Mraztur. His skill with the flows is unparalleled and, because of the implanted
rakkuhr
virus—even contained as it is—the sending ritual must be flawless.”

I struggled to put aside my emotional reaction to Kadir. “I trust
you
, but how do you know he won’t break the agreement?” I gave him a sour smile. “The Mraztur haven’t exactly been bound by their ethics lately.”

“No, they have not,” he agreed. He looked off into the distance even though we were still in the corridor. “But Kadir is meticulous with agreements. I have never known him to break even the smallest point.” He met my eyes again. “However, if what I require conflicts in any way with terms he has with the Mraztur, he will not come to agreement with me, and I will find another to assist.”

His eyes held a flicker of worry. It was clear he preferred to have Kadir do the ritual with him, and I forced myself to remember that his worry for me mattered as well. It was unfair not to take that into consideration.

“All right.” I gave a grudging nod. “It’s obviously a complicated relationship, but I’ll trust you to trust him for me.” I angled my head. “Speaking of complicated things, are you going to give me some sort of training or FAQ on how to use Vsuhl properly?”

Mzatal went still, and I felt the connection between us thin slightly as if it had grown distant. “Beloved, Vsuhl was not recovered for your use,” he said in a quiet, grave voice. “It is Szerain’s blade.”

The odd change in his mood had me baffled, but I forged on anyway. “I know that,” I said. “But I’m its bearer now. Wouldn’t it be safer if I knew how to actually use it while I have it?”

“No,” he said firmly, brows drawn together. “You are safe when it is away. You are
not
Vsuhl’s bearer. You are its custodian. It is Szerain’s blade.” His aura flared with each sentence, as if to punctuate it. “Too much for a human.”

I’d taken a step back without realizing it. “Right,” I said. “Okay.” My throat felt tight, and I took another step back, feeling the sting of the rebuke. Had I said or done something wrong? Maybe I’d messed up when I used the blade the day before, and he was mad about it? “I . . . I’d better go work on the shikvihr,” I said and turned to go, bewildered and hurt.

He reached out and caught my shoulder, pulled me to him. I didn’t resist and let him hold me close. Tension kept his body rigid, and though he said nothing, I felt his pain and regret that he’d upset me.

I sighed against him, did my best to not be a ninny. There was obviously a lot more he wasn’t telling me, but now wasn’t the time to push the issue.

“Yaghir tahn,”
he finally said, voice soft.
Forgive me.
“The matter is complex and fraught.”

“Yeah, it’s cool.” I looked up at him and forced a smile. “I’d better get started on the seventh ring.”

He hesitated briefly, then released me and stepped back. “I will be there to culminate it when you are ready.”

I nodded, turned and departed, smile slipping as I headed outside and to the column. The connection Mzatal and I shared was incredibly intimate, amazing and profound, yet it did nothing to balance the massive difference in the power dynamic between us. It wasn’t an issue of one of us being more “in control” of the relationship than the other. This was a flat and simple: “He’s super powerful and can read my every thought, and I’m . . . really good at feeling what he needs and helping him be super powerful.”

I reached the column, began some basic warm-up movements. No, it wasn’t a flat and simple anything, I realized. Our partnership benefited us both, and the shikvihr was a perfect example of it. Learning it from him with the added input I gained through our bond, I understood nuances of the creation process that would be impossible to grasp from words and demonstration alone. I
knew
it on a deeper level, which ultimately enhanced it. Yes, I still had to create it and weave the sigils in their rings completely on my own, but what I ended up with was simply
awesome.

With my psyche thus soothed, I began to dance the shikvihr. The first six rings flowed out of me without hesitation, igniting perfectly and carrying the deeper resonance that showed they’d been culminated by a demonic lord—like hitting the enter key on a computer. They drifted in slow rotation around me, a foot above the ground, colors shifting and sparkling.

The seventh ring poured from me effortlessly as well, each sigil joining harmoniously with the next as I traced and danced. I felt the grove activate with Kadir’s arrival, but I ignored it, utterly focused. Nine sigils, ten. I’d never played sports, but I knew now what it meant to be “in the zone,” because I was dead center. Even the awareness that Mzatal watched from beyond the outer ring didn’t faze me. I had this shit.

I traced the eleventh and last sigil in the ring, ignited the series, then looked over at Mzatal with a proud and silly grin on my face. “Pretty, ain’t it?”

He moved carefully through the rings, hands behind his back as he assessed. “Well done, zharkat,” he said with a warm smile.

“Thanks,” I said, exultant. I wiped sweat from my face with my sleeve. “Now hook ’em up so you can send me to Earth.”

He chuckled low. “We must work on your lack of assertiveness, beloved.” He kissed me lightly then moved behind me, draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me against him. I leaned back and carefully followed his method as he wove the rings together. Without this step, the seventh ring was little more than a pretty circle of sigils.

“Now ignite the whole,” he murmured.

I took a moment to savor the accomplishment I’d worked toward for months, then ignited the unified rings in a flare of potency that left me dizzy even as it infused me. Mzatal held me to his chest and rewarded me with a rare delighted laugh that echoed through our connection.

“That’s even prettier,” I said with a grin as I shifted to face him.

“So it is.” He held me close and gave me a toe-curling victory kiss, then broke it reluctantly, and nuzzled my cheek. “The ritual will be ready in less than two hours. Ilana will bring you to the nexus at that time.”

Still smiling, I kissed him soundly then dispelled the rings. “I’d better go bathe and pack.”

I returned to the rooms I shared with Mzatal to find that Faruk had already carefully packed my duffel. To my delight and relief, the sweet faas had not only included my Earth clothing, but she had also selected a variety of the lovely garments made for me here in the demon realm by the clever little demons called
zrila
. After thanking Faruk effusively for saving me the trouble, I tossed in one or two little keepsakes, then made a quick trip to Idris’s room.

The faas had straightened up, made the bed, and put clothing away, but otherwise everything in the room was the same as Idris had left it four months ago. I found his hairbrush in the bathing chamber and pulled a few dozen blond and curling hairs from it, then put them and his toothbrush in a small cloth bag. Arcane power was cool and awesome, but DNA testing was pretty damn neat as well, and I intended to find out once and for all if Idris was my cousin.

I put the cloth bag in my duffel, then had nothing to do but wait with zero patience for the ritual. At long last all was prepared, and Ilana transported me down to the black sand beach near the nexus, saving me the walk down the bajillion stairs that hugged the cliff face. Running up them had become an
almost
enjoyable mind and body clearing ritual. However, it also cleared the pores with gallons of sweat, and since I didn’t really want to arrive back home a sodden mess, I expressed my deep gratitude to Ilana once we arrived on the beach. Though I didn’t see her, I knew Eilahn was somewhere close by, watching.

To the right the waterfall ended its five hundred foot plummet into a deep sea pool. To the left stood a large raised circle of basalt surrounded by eleven dark columns—Mzatal’s nexus. Unlike the utilitarian nexus Rhyzkahl and Jesral had created in the rainforest, this structure had stood for millennia as an augmented arcane hotspot that capitalized on a convergence of power flows. Eleven was the “magic” number for arcane work in the demon realm, based on the eleven lords, the qaztahl, who kept it all flowing. Above the surface of the nexus a hundred or more floaters of brilliant colors twisted and drifted, while Mzatal and Kadir stood on the far side, deep in a debate over the best means to finalize the section of sigils before them.

I felt the readiness of the ritual, the thrum of potency. Cold fear threatened to pry its way in, warning me of the perils of entering a ritual, especially one that had been formed by one of the Mraztur.
I trust Mzatal
, I reminded myself. Besides, there was no fucking way I was going to show fear in front of Lord Creepshow.

By the time I reached them, the debate between the two lords had been settled. Kadir stood back, his eyes on me, saying nothing, which was fine with me. Mzatal took my hand, and together we stepped onto the basalt and into the vortex energy of the nexus. I paused a moment, clung to his hand while I recovered my equilibrium, then moved carefully with him through the floaters to the center.

Mzatal laid his hand against the side of my face, caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I have much to do to prepare for my own departure,” he told me, “but I will be here, awaiting your summons, in twenty-four Earth hours.”

“You’d better be,” I said, smiling. “I don’t want to have to hunt you down.”

Kadir moved in my peripheral vision, and I riveted my focus on Mzatal’s face to help me avoid all thoughts of Creepshow’s involvement. After a lovely moment of saying goodbye, Mzatal released me and retreated to the perimeter of the diagram. Together, he and Kadir walked the full circle, then ignited the floaters with a dizzying rush of upward spiraling energy.

When I felt the ritual set, I slung the strap of my duffel over my shoulder, smiled and blew Mzatal an exaggerated kiss. “See you soon, Boss.”

The ritual coalesced around me like viscous slime, icy cold and smothering. My smile disappeared as alarm shot through me. This wasn’t right. I’d been summoned twice before and both times it felt like being dragged through shards of glass. Hideously unpleasant, yet this was far different. Worse, even though it didn’t have the same flaying pain.

The energy wrapped around me like the coils of a snake, squeezing the air from my lungs. I fought to suck in a breath, to move, to twitch, abruptly reminded far too much of the confining potency that had bound me during Rhyzkahl’s torture.

Mzatal and Kadir continued to work the flows side by side, focused and calm as though everything was going exactly as planned.
But whose plan?
I wondered as I fought against the rising panic. Suffocation sure as hell wasn’t in mine. Had Kadir found a loophole in Mzatal’s careful agreement? The potencies held me fast, pressed me inward upon myself, squeezed the breath from me. I struggled, consumed now with the need to get the hell out of the center of the nexus, to move, to do
anything
to stop this.

I felt Mzatal’s intimate touch flow through me, urging me to peace. Felt him. Felt the calm assurance.

It wasn’t enough to overcome the stab of primal terror, the memories of Rhyzkahl’s vile blade parting my flesh as I was held bound, immobile, far too similar to how the slime held me now. I tried to scream, to plead with Mzatal, but had no breath to do so.

Still Mzatal persisted, suffusing me with his steady presence, flooding me with reassurance and calm. He spoke, and though I couldn’t hear the words, I read them upon his lips, felt them in my core.

I am here, zharkat. Peace, beloved. Here, Kara. Here.

The panic slipped away, and I extended, met his eyes.

He lifted his hands and thrust them downward in a final gesture. The world twisted and, with a wrenching pull, the constricting slime and sunlight above gave way to weightlessness in silent, icy darkness. Cold seared through my bones, froze even the concept of movement. No sound, no scent, nothing but the void.

Warmth touched me, bringing a rippling discomfort like circulation returning to a limb. A moment later, I felt something solid beneath my feet, sensed my legs buckling. Pain shot through my knees and palms as I caught myself and gasped in precious air.

I heard a man’s voice. A shocked curse. Ryan. Still breathing hard, I looked up in time to see him leap to his feet from where he’d been sitting on a futon in my basement. His laptop nearly dumped onto the floor as he did so, but he managed a lightning fast save, then slung it without further regard to the futon. “Kara!?”

Finally catching my breath, I sat back on my heels, gave Ryan a grin, and put aside evil thoughts of how I was going to kill Mzatal for putting me through that. “Miss me, sweetie?”

He rushed over and crouched beside me. “You okay?” he asked, eyes searching me for any indication I wasn’t. “I had no idea you were coming.”

“I’m good,” I said. “It was a rough and weird ride, but I’m good.” I gave him a grateful smile as he helped me to my feet. “Nice to see you again.”

His face lit with a smile and he pulled me into a hug. “Missed you around here.”

Smiling, I wrapped my arms around him, took in his familiar scent. “I missed you too. It’s good to be back.”

He released me then hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the futon and other furnishings at the far end of the room. “And yes, I’m living in your basement,” he said, his tone colored with apology.

“You certainly are,” I said with a wry smile. Ryan and Zack had moved in when I was captive in the demon realm to help keep the place up, as well to be immediately on hand in the event of any new developments. Both were FBI agents, my friends, and so much more. Ryan was the exiled demonic lord Szerain, forced to live submerged as an unaware human, and named
kiraknikahl
—oathbreaker—by the demons. Zack was his demon guard and guardian, as well as my best friend Jill’s boyfriend and baby-daddy. I had no idea if Zack and Jill had discussed cohabitation, but considering that Jill was a pretty damn private person and that Zack
needed
to be living with or very near Ryan, I doubted they were shopping for a new house.

I swept my gaze around the basement, noting the evidence of manly habitation. Stacks of work files on the table, a pair of socks under the edge of the futon, a new small dresser and wardrobe against the far wall, an open bag of chips on the side table, trousers draped over the chair. I had a sudden hysterical image of Zack telling Ryan to take his mess downstairs where no one else had to see it. Not that it was really
messy
. But it was definitely lived in. “So. The temporary arrangement became more permanent?”

Chagrin flickered across his face. “Well, we thought that with everything going on with you and the demons, it’d be good to have a solid base of operations.” He drew a breath and released it in a rush, looking like a man desperately hoping to sell a wild idea. “Somewhere secure for you to come home to and for us to work from when you’re gone.” He tugged a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture. “And yeah, I know we didn’t ask. Hope you’re not mad.”

It hit me. Hard. These people were my friends, put their own lives aside and gave a shit about me,
for real
. Sure, I’d already known that in an intellectual way, but something about having it demonstrated so clearly hit me right in the warm-fuzzy-feely parts. And, damn it, I liked the idea of having Ryan around.

“Mad? Hell no,” I said with a broad smile. “That’s one of the coolest things anyone’s ever done for me.” I thumped him in the chest. “But don’t think I’m changing my morning groggy-sometimes-bitchy, pre-coffee routine just because you’re here.”

Ryan laughed. “I hope not. You wouldn’t be you without it.”

I looked him over. He wore navy blue sweats and running shoes, and the hair around his ears was damp, leading me to think he’d recently showered. Four months, and still much the same. Short wavy brown hair with a hint of red, rugged yet handsome face, and green eyes flecked with gold. But there were also new lines of strain around his eyes. “You resting okay?” I asked.

“It’s been a rough few months, but I’m all right.” He made a dismissive gesture and focused on me with earnest intensity. “What’s next on your agenda?”

Nice change of subject, Ryan.
I let it slide for now. “You know that Idris got taken by Rhyzkahl’s gang, right?” At his nod I continued, “Well, yesterday, they sent him back to Earth, I’m assuming to better hide him and probably for some other as-yet-unknown purpose as well.” I scowled. “I’m here now to do what I can to track him down and stop whatever the hell else is going on.” He frowned and opened his mouth to comment, but I held up a hand. “And, as soon as I have my storage diagram charged up, I’m summoning Eilahn. Then tomorrow night, Mzatal.” The storage diagram was basically an arcane “battery” that helped me stockpile potency. Damn handy since that meant I wasn’t restricted to summoning only on the high potency days of the full moon.

“You have a pretty full plate,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “And you still look a little shaky. Maybe you should sit down for a few.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s a little after eight p.m. You hoping to summon tonight?”

He had the shaky part right. I headed for the futon and let out a sigh of relief as I plopped down. “As soon I can get the diagram charged and my head clear.”

Ryan sat beside me and shifted half-sideways. Closer than friend distance and not as close as a lover. It was comfortable and right—for now. There was too much hidden. Ryan didn’t know he was Szerain, and I hadn’t known it until relatively recently, well after we’d already developed a rapport and even a relationship, albeit a rocky one. Now, I knew Szerain existed, fully aware, beneath the overlay façade of Ryan, even if Ryan didn’t. It made things
interesting
between us.

“When I was here before, I told you about Katashi going over to the Mraztur.” I said.

He nodded. “Right. He betrayed Mzatal, was his sworn summoner, had his Mark and all that.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure his people here on Earth are the ones who have Idris.” I gave him a hopeful smile. “Anything you and Zack could dig up with your FBI resources would be a huge help.”

“Sure, no problem,” he said without hesitation. “We can do info-scrounging.”

“Thanks. Mzatal made a list of his known associates. It’s in my bag somewhere. I’ll dig it out for you later.” I abruptly frowned as my gaze rested on a diagonal wall and door nestled in the far corner. “Ryan. There’s a door in my basement.”

“Yeah. Basic bathroom and shower. Figured it couldn’t hurt anything.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve made a few, uh . . . other additions too.” He gave me a wide smile. “By the way, you look pretty damn good.”

Change of subject number two. Noted. My mouth twitched in amusement. “Thanks. I work out. A
lot
,” I said, then grinned. “Me. Working out and actually
wanting
to.” It sure wasn’t that way before I went to the demon realm. Jill used to have to drag me kicking and screaming to go for a run.

“Inconceivable,” he said with a laugh. His eyes travelled over me. “And your
hair
is different.”

Puzzled, I reached up and touched my hair. “Oh! The faas—blue furry demons that look like dog-sized lizards—won’t let me style it myself anymore. Possibly because my idea of style is to stuff it into a ponytail.”

His face softened. “You’re really okay. And the lord . . . Mzatal. He’s treating you right?”

“He treats me very well,” I reassured him. “And I’m learning
so
much. It’s amazing.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He even sounded like he meant it, despite the jealousy Ryan had displayed in the past concerning both Rhyzkahl and Mzatal. Tension rose in his face, the muscle of his jaw working. “And what about Asshole?”

I didn’t need to ask. He meant Rhyzkahl. My mouth twisted in a scowl. “He’s alive and well, working closely with Jesral.”

Ryan froze, face reflecting angry darkness. “Jesral,” he said through clenched teeth. Ryan didn’t know Jesral but Szerain did. From the vehemence that laced the name, I had no doubt Szerain had punched his way through the overlay to express his animosity. Then Ryan sucked in a breath, shook his head as though to clear it, gave me a flicker of a smile. “Sorry. Things have been weird since you left.”