Pretty Dark Sacrifice (18 page)

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Authors: Heather L. Reid

Tags: #paranormal, #fantasy, #demons, #angels, #love and romance

BOOK: Pretty Dark Sacrifice
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Azrael reached through the window and switched the radio back on.

“Hey. Just because you’re an angel doesn’t give you the right … ”

Azrael opened his wings to their full span, casting a shadow over the truck, and Caleb’s mouth fell open. “Okay. The radio is yours.”

The stations began to flip from news report to news report. A child murdered in Chicago, girls kidnapped in Nigeria, genocide in Sudan, nuclear threat, each account worse than the last.

Quinn covered her ears. “Please, Azrael. I don’t want to hear anymore.”

This is what we fight against, Quinn. What happened to your friends today is happing all over the world. This is what I’ve been trying to impart to you. Humanity depends on you defeating the darkness and re-sealing the veil.
Azrael pressed the urgency into her mind, and the magnitude of the situation started to sink in.

I am being called to help push back the hordes. In the meantime, stay home. As soon as I’m back, you must go to Arcadia. We must begin preparations.

“Fine, when you get back, I’ll go.” She might not be able to ignore her calling much longer, but she wasn’t going to Arcadia without at least trying to get through to Aaron. She would have to put her plan into action now, before Azrael got back.

I will be back soon. If you need me, I am just a call away. You will always be my first priority.
Azrael bowed to her then shot upward and into the sky.

“Go where?” Caleb asked.

“To my destiny.”

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

Quinn looked at her watch. Half-past six. They had agreed to meet here half an hour ago. Where were they? It would be dark soon, and she wasn’t sure how long Azrael would be gone on his mission for The Light. No doubt, he would put a stop to her plan if he found out. This might be her only chance to contact Aaron before Azrael whisked her away to fulfill her destiny, whatever that meant.

The sound of tires on gravel made her turn around. Marcus’s Jeep appeared around the corner and pulled up next to her, the tinted windows obscuring the sight of any passengers. Quinn’s heart sank when he got out. Reese hadn’t come.

“I can’t believe you picked this place for our experiment. It has some seriously bad juju.” Marcus kissed the gold cross hanging around his neck and mumbled a prayer of protection.

“Where’s Reese?”

“The whole thing with Kerstin and Jeff really freaked her out. I still can’t believe it. She says sorry, but she can’t face anything else tonight.” Marcus looked away and shoved his hands in his pockets. “To be honest, I’m not sure I can either. Maybe we should have ordered pizza and watched funny movies. Try to forget all this pain.

Quinn couldn’t blame either of them for wanting to hide. She’d been doing plenty of that herself over the last month, but this couldn’t wait. Tomorrow Azrael would drag her kicking and screaming to her destiny, and any chance of finding Aaron would be gone.

“What about Caleb?” Marcus asked.

“He’s not coming either. His mom’s out of town, and he didn’t want to leave his younger sister alone, not with everything that’s going on.”

“Yeah, I can’t blame him.” Marcus scratched the side of his jaw.

“Marcus.” Quinn took his hands in hers and squeezed, looking him dead in the eyes. “I know it’s going to be painful, but I need to do this. Aaron needs me, but you don’t have to be here. Give me the spirit board and go back to Reese. She needs you, and there’s no reason I can’t do this myself.”

“No. Aaron wouldn’t want me to leave you.” Marcus shook his head. “Reese wants everything to be the same, to ignore the possibility that he could be out there, hurt, or worse. She doesn’t get it. I can’t stop replaying every second of that night over and over.”

“Me, too. The guilt is like a swarm of ants crawling over my skin. Every time I think I’ve shaken them off, another one bites me.” Quinn stared at her hands. They’d fit perfectly in Aaron’s. She should never have let go.

“Right? I know it’s not my fault. It’s definitely not yours either, although I know you think it is. If I’m thinking it, I can’t imagine how you must feel. Do you play ‘What If’?” Marcus leaned against the doorframe of the Jeep and ran a hand across his scalp.

“All the time,” Quinn admitted.

“The thoughts always start with him telling me we should separate to look for you. I should never have left him, I should have run faster, swam harder, tried to carry both of you.” Marcus balled his fists. “I should have insisted, seen how weak he really was. Sometimes I can’t sleep because I’m analyzing every moment. My brain knows I did everything I could, but my heart—my heart’s broken.”

“Mine too.”

“That’s what Reese doesn’t understand. You’re the only one who gets it. Did you know I haven’t been back in the pool since? I can’t face it. The thing I’ve trained for, worked for my whole life, it’s meaningless. If I couldn’t use it to save my best friend, what’s the point in it?”

“You saved me.” She smiled and Marcus looked away, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand.

“Aaron saved you,” Marcus corrected.

“You both saved me. I’m the reason he’s gone, Marcus. Not you. None of us should have been in that river that night. If I had followed my heart and gone to Homecoming with Aaron, this never would have happened. It’s my fault. He should never have come after me. I wish he had let me die in that water. I would give my life for his if I could.” Confessing to Marcus freed something within her, gave her hope. Knowing she wasn’t alone in her grief, in her contrition.

“Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it. I can’t go back and change the past, but I need to make peace with him, somehow.”

“Me, too. That’s why I’m not letting you do this alone,” Marcus continued. “I’m scared that it won’t work. Or that it will work, and he’ll give us some terrible message from beyond the grave. But no matter what happens, we do this together. He needs us both now. I can’t explain it, but I have this feeling I can’t ignore. This can’t wait; we have to try to get to him.”

“Thank you.” Quinn rushed forward, tackling him in a hug. “I’m scared, and I didn’t really want to do it alone.”

“If there’s a chance to save him now, we have to try.” Marcus stroked her hair and then let go. “Let’s do this before we both change our minds.” Marcus grabbed a backpack from his passenger seat and locked the Jeep.

Shadows darted through the trees, demons, following at a distance as they headed down to the riverbank. The dagger tucked into her boot pulsed against her shin, and her hand itched to pull it from the sheath. A steady breath fortified her shield, and the glowing bubble surrounding her solidified. She reveled in the power of her gift. Controlling when and where she spoke to the demons made her happy. Well, maybe not happy, but their distraction kept her from curling up in a ball and sobbing into her pillow every minute of every day.

“I think this is it.” Marcus rubbed the back of his neck and swatted at a fly. “I haven’t been back here since that night. Everything looks so different now.”

With the river back to its soft, trickling pace instead of bursting its banks, it was hard to tell. In her best guess, this was roughly the spot where Aaron disappeared.

“Close enough.” Quinn settled on a rock outcropping, folding her legs in front. Cold seeped through her jeans, sending a shiver through her bones, and she zipped her black hoodie all the way to her neck.

“And why does the man always have to carry the bag? This doesn’t even go with my shoes.” Marcus tossed a pink and purple backpack to Quinn and settled across from her, taking the same cross-legged position.

“You’re always going on about your muscles. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste, right?” Quinn unzipped the backpack and took out a rectangular wooden board, roughly the size of a laptop, and placed it on the flattest surface of rock she could find.

All the letters of the alphabet were engraved in two arching lines across the middle, with a line of numbers at the bottom. In the top corners, the words
Yes
and
No
were printed beside illustrations of a sun and a moon.
Hello
and
Goodbye
completed the spirit board’s bottom two edges, along with a weeping angel and dancing imp.

“What about the planchette?” Quinn asked

“I thought it might be better if we used something personal.” Marcus fished in his pocket, bringing out a rectangular bit of white plastic with the artwork from John Lennon’s
Imagine
album printed on the side. “His favorite, from his guitar case.”

“Now what?” Quinn asked.

“Well, in the movies, they always put their fingers lightly on the planchette and then ask the spirits if they want to communicate.”

Quinn placed her index finger on one of the three sides of the guitar pick and frowned. “It’s too small for both of us to touch at the same time.” She studied the board, unsure where to put her hands. “Maybe we touch the edges of the board instead? That way, we know the planchette is moving on its own and not because one of us nudged it with a finger.”

“Worth a try.” Marcus picked up the board and scooted forward until his knees touched Quinn’s. Setting it back down across both their laps, he positioned his thumbs at the halfway point, long fingers slightly curling around the edge. Quinn positioned the pick in the dead center of the board and placed her thumbs opposite his. They both stared at the board.

“Should we close our eyes or something?” Marcus asked.

“How should I know? I’ve never done this before.” Quinn suddenly felt awkward and silly. She wanted to believe that, somehow, this piece of wood and plastic could boost her own gift and reinforce a connection with Aaron, but doubt ate away at the edges of her faith.

“Well, since you seem to be the one he’s trying to contact, I think you should call out to him or something. Urge him to manipulate the board and let us know where he is.”

“Okay, tell me if it starts moving.” Quinn shut out the world around her and tried to relax like Azrael taught her. Tension in the body led to tension in the mind, which led to less control over her abilities. Breath by breath, she moved through the defensive layers of the barrier that separated her from the unseen shadow world and restricted her sight. It had taken weeks to master holding her defenses in place. What had once been like a thin, delicate bubble, ready to pop at any minute, became an intricately woven, invisible shield, which she manipulated to reveal as much or as little of the other world as she wanted.

The air around her took on a slight hum. The essences became clearer as she stripped away armor, leaving herself naked and vulnerable. A strong scent of sulfur made Quinn jerk her head and cough. Sweat beaded on her temples and dripped down her cheek while the hot, moist air stilled around her. She felt a strange shift in the surrounding energy, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Electric sparks exploded beneath her closed lids, a fireworks display of orange and yellow against the black. Marcus’s hands froze beneath hers with the sound of plastic scraping across wood.

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

Kaemon did know, and now so did Aaron, but together they managed to bury the image of the box being thrown into a vast ocean seconds before Lilith seized it. An ocean whose water receded over millennia, leaving fertile land in its wake, land the founders of Westland had called home, and so did Quinn.

When the tears of Eve have turned to blood and her sins have turned to flesh, the key will fall.
Quinn’s flesh contained the very essence of Eve, her tears, her blood. The words of the prophecy took on a terrible new meaning. Fate, destiny, none of it was coincidence. Loopholes upon loopholes, the universe aligned as prophecy predicted, and it was only a matter of time before the box made its way back to her, if it hadn’t already. No denying the dramatic irony of it all—Aaron was trapped in the middle of it, tortured, helpless.

No, not helpless,
Kaemon whispered.
We can do this. We must do this. Quinn has no idea what’s coming.

And then what?

We find Quinn. Warn her.

How?

“I taste your fear, sweet and full of flavor. You know something. I sense the answer flitting in that tiny brain of yours. I will find it, Aaron.”

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