The Council (Darkness #5) (16 page)

The canvas hood was ripped off of Stefan’s face. He yanked at his arms, now tied to a feeble wood chair, ascertaining they were still bound. His legs were similarly tied.

He stared at Andris who stood in front of him. Stefan surveyed the dimly-lit room. Candles flickered on shelves and stands, like something out of a Renaissance painting. A large, perfect circle, painted with what looked like a stencil, decorated the ground in the middle of the open space. Males and females stood around, loitering in corners. If they’d all worn capes, Stefan would’ve thought they were on a movie set.

“When do you start filming?” Stefan asked, rolling his head to loosen up his neck. He’d fallen asleep in the motorhome on the way here. The drug had worn off and very minute impressions of Sasha had bled through the link. Her emotions colored him with determination, power and strength; all things that said she was kicking ass. It’d relieved him enough to catch a few hours of sleep while he could.

He still felt her, however distantly. Determination still bled through more than anything else. His heart swelled at the same time as it bled. He would never see that remarkable female again. He’d never feel her silky skin brushing against his body, or encourage her soft mews of delight. He’d been the happiest of his life with her. If he went for eternity, just him and her, with nothing else in the world, it would be plenty more than he had before her.

But at least she will live on.

He took a deep breath and refocused on Andris, directing the crew of four that lead something resembling a stubborn goat.

“You stopped to pick up a goat?” he asked, glancing around the sparse room. “Couldn’t find one any closer? Where are we, anyway? In a gym?”

Andris turned and studied him for a second. “You find this silly. Yes, I agree. The pentagrams and candles—it’s all a bit ridiculous. But I had human advisors who practiced this sort of thing—when they weren’t fixing computers or playing Dungeons and Dragons, that is—or whatever that asinine card game is. They set it up this way, and since it worked, I continued.”

“You
had
human advisors?”

Andris turned back to the circle where the goat was being chained to the floor in the middle. “They taught me a great deal. And then became redundant.” He smirked. “Well, actually, they became the sacrifice to call a demon. Poetic, I thought.”

“Did you plan to get caught? By us? And taken to the Council?”

The goat bleated as the helpers moved away.

“I did not, no. As I said, you’ve done nothing but get in my way since the beginning of this enterprise. But, I am ever an improviser. Also well-connected.”

Stefan couldn’t argue with that. The male got out of the dungeon, got Trek out of the dungeon, and both of them away from the compound without any problem whatsoever. He was good at what he did— Stefan had to give him that.

Andris gestured for one of his staff to approach, saying to Stefan, “And no, to answer your question. I did not stop to pick up a goat. I stopped to pick up something infinitely more valuable. If you travel too far, the blood link is nothing more than an echo. I like to be apprised of my possessions at all times.”

“Ah.” Stefan glanced around the room for the person of which he spoke. “Does she know she is a possession?”

“She knows that she has landed a handsome, rich, powerful, dominating man that gives her the best sex of her life. She cherishes the ground I walk on.”

“But does she know she’s a possession? Females really hate that.”

Andris scoffed. “You’re too soft. Human women need to be taken in hand. Once they submit, they flow along nicely. Except for that harebrained human you found. Bad luck.”

Stefan smirked. Not at all. The sex was better with the feisty ones. Conversations were more colorful with someone that could match one’s intellect. And his mansion would run ten times more efficiently with someone that was strong enough to steer the ship on her own.

A hard stab of longing pierced his chest. He muffled the link, just in case any of that bled through. Andris was right, all the distance only gave echoes of feeling, but with him and Sasha, it would be enough to make her come running with a sword and a snarl.

Mate
.

“Now,” Andris interrupted his thoughts as he moved toward the circle, book in hand. “Let’s give this goat a purpose, shall we?”

“You know, if you gave that goat to a family in an impoverished nation, it would have a longer-lasting purpose.”

Andris swiveled his body to stare at Stefan. “Since when are you so light and carefree? Is that what hanging around humans does to a male? Turns him nonsensical and delirious?”

“Well, now you’re just saying words.”

Hazel eyes stared hard. His head tilted a fraction, calculating. “Maybe I should’ve taken her. Maybe used her while you watched. I think that would’ve gotten the reaction I was looking for.”

Stefan shrugged, unconcerned.
But you didn’t.
She was safe, and she’d look after everything Stefan spent his life to build. His job as a mate and protector would be upheld
.

“I doubt she will live through the siege on the Council, but if she does, maybe I’ll target her when we’re done. Use her for a demon.” Andris continued to stare.

Stefan shrugged again. “If you’re irritated by
my
always getting in the way, I can’t imagine you’ll find Dominicous and Toa any fun.”

Andris’ look darkened. He nodded to a helper, handed off his book, and stalked over to Stefan in heavy, angry strides. With two hands he ripped Stefan’s shirt open, revealing his chest. The next moment a knife flashed.

Stefan sucked in a breath as the steel bit into his flesh, slicing the skin across his pec. Pain bled across his senses, merging with the throbbing in his skull that hadn’t gone away. He opened his eyes slowly, knowing Andris waited for a reaction of some kind. For anger.

Instead, Stefan smiled. “Jonas would really love you.”

Rage clouded Andris’ gaze. Crimson crawled up his face. Just as quickly, a cold, calm rationale settled down, muffling the loss of control. His lips curled slightly. “I see. Yes, you always had ways of manipulating. Clever. And maybe, were we playing fair, I would have met my match. Unfortunately, playing fair is merely a detour to getting where you need to be.”

“Poetic. Did you find that on a tee-shirt?”

Unblinking hazel eyes revealed the turmoil within. The spoiled kid that wasn’t getting his way. It almost made Stefan chuckle, but not yet. Someone laughing at him would certainly push him into a frenzy, but there wasn’t enough pressure to make the frenzy escalate into carelessness. Not yet. Stefan would save the laughter for a pivotal moment—if one ever came.

After another moment of collecting himself, Andris turned slowly and stuck out his hands for the book. “I hate this old magic. It takes so long.”

Two helpers entered the circle, one carrying a velvety blue pillow in two outstretched hands, and the other with hands folded down his front. They stood at the head of the goat, which pushed forward, seemingly looking for food. Andris walked in as well, stepping between the males with open book in hand. He glanced down at the pages, and then started to speak what Stefan thought might be Latin in a flat, monotone voice.

So he’d been right. Andris would create a lessor demon first. One he could control. Maybe even one that could help control a more powerful demon—who knew? Certainly not Stefan; he’d never seen old magic performed before now. And on first appearance, it seemed archaic and laughable. If he hadn’t fought what this type of magic could produce, he’d dismiss it out of hand.

The speech stopped. Andris handed off the book and held out his hand. Like a surgeon, the helper plucked a marble-handled knife off of the pillow and placed it carefully in Andris’ palm. The helper then bent to the goat, holding the neck steady with eyes downward.

The goat bleated, nipping at Andris’ pants. Andris flinched as he got in position—the goat’s teeth apparently nipping more than clothes—and held the knife above the goat’s neck. Another helper shuffled quickly into the circle, an ordinary galvanized bucket held between two hands.

“You think you could’ve at least sprung for a silver bucket or something. Make this a little more festive.” Stefan’s voice fell on deaf ears. Andris was completely in the moment.

When the third helper was in position, the knife came down hard and fast. At least it was fast.

Andris started speaking again, which had started to sound more like chanting. The helper poured the blood around the floor, covering the carefully painted circle in messy splatters. After, they moved to the top of the circle so Andris could dip a paintbrush into the leftover blood, and paint signs of some sort on the hardwood, gym-type floor.

It really did look like a gym. Near the back, pushed against the ceiling, he could swear were basketball hoops. And was that a stage lurking behind the large drapes of curtain?

A bark dragged his attention back to the ceremony. The goat’s body had been carried away, and a dog was being led to the circle.

“Ah now, that just isn’t right,” Stefan said as the mostly docile animal’s collar was snapped onto the chain.

The chants began again, all the helpers now saying them. As a group, they moved to the outside of the circle, spreading out along it, speaking together. Louder and louder their voices rose, carrying across the open space. Males and females alike, those hanging around the edges, began creeping forward with their swords and knives, eyes intent on the circle.

Candles flickered harder. A soft breeze tickled Stefan’s face, and then blew. Swirls of dust got caught in the air currents, funneling toward the circle like a cyclone. Faster and faster. A soft moan rumbled the floor. The chants increased. Louder. The rumble turned into a shake, vibrating the entire facility. Stefan’s chair jumped, his weight not enough to hold him down. The dog started barking, pausing only to snap at the air with bared teeth.

The chanting competed with the barking and the rumble of the ground. A slice of light tore through the center of the circle. A translucent shape emerged, wisps mostly, the shape hard to determine. The dog snarled, biting at solidifying air, right before two impressions of hands bent down and snatched up the dog.

Stefan cringed at the sound of a spine breaking. His body flexed, his instinct saying to rip out of his bonds and kill Andris where he stood. He wouldn’t make it far, and he wouldn’t make it out of here. He could do nothing for the dog, but he knew he couldn’t let this continue. He might be sentenced to death, but if he went, he’d take Andris down with him.

The book was thrust to the side as Andris worked his magic, encasing the circle in an orange glow. The demon, a small, not completely solid form, rushed the circle, gnashing at the barrier with long, curved teeth. The orange blinked. Andris’ brows lowered.

The orange magic—Andris’ magic—was just a precaution, Stefan realized. Andris used it in case the old magic of the blood circle and chants failed. He had a pretty good handle on all this, but not a great one.

The demon scurried to the side of the circle where Andris stood. Its black eyes stared out.

“I command you to stand in the center of the circle!” Andris waited expectantly.

The demon growled, but took a step back.

“To the center!”

Another growl, and another grudging step.

“Now. I will give you your instructions.”

Stefan listened carefully, monitoring the fight of the demon for control. Monitoring the strain in Andris’ face and the sweat beading his brow. This was hard for him, maintaining ownership. Without the utmost concentration, that meager thread would break. And then the demon would get loose like all those before it.

The only comforting thing about this was that Andris was in way over his head, but wouldn’t admit it. Breaking his concentration and sabotaging this circus would be easy. Unfortunately, if he did call a stronger demon, Stefan wouldn’t be around long enough to watch what happened when it ripped control out of Andris’ grasp.

“He’s alive!” I repeated as we tore up the street. “I felt him. I know I did. He is alive.”

“He’s gone now?” Tim asked from the front seat of a stolen vehicle. Well, not exactly stolen—kind of given to us with the help of Jonas and Charles’ pheromones. I did make them pick a jerk big-shot getting picked up in a limo, though, so I didn’t feel as bad about leaving him and his driver in the pick-up zone of the airport with a dazed, blinking stare.

Sorry, guy, but this is important.

“He muffled it. But that means he doesn’t want me to feel whatever he’s feeling. Which means he’s trying to die in silence like a pining bitch idiot.” I hit the seat, just for some way not to cry. Then, because my eyes still filled with tears, I punched Charles.

“After this is over, you will get paid back ten-fold, just so you know.” Charles rubbed his arm. “But I will also take this moment to compliment myself on teaching you to punch effectively.”

“How can you knit at a time like this?” Ann barked, staring at some cockeyed pink hat resting in Charles’ lap. Unfortunately, Ann had remembered the knitting supplies, but not the three men that were healing in the room next door. Charles got a mighty grin when he heard that little nugget.

“It relieves stress, which you know. If you didn’t want me to knit, why did you bring my knitting supplies, hmm? I will answer that for you—you did it because you were being thoughtful. And when a woman is thoughtful, it means she wants sex. You didn’t have to try so hard, though, I would’ve—”

“Enough.” Jonas stared at me. “What’s next?”

“We’re almost at the mansion.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, almost wishing I could tell Charles to keep prattling on about trying to get laid. It lightened the mood and made me stop focusing on the intense pounding of my heart. “I have to bring everyone to my cause.”

“They will be wrapped around your cause already. Getting Stefan back is all your causes.” Tim turned in the seat to look back at me. “You just have to make sure it is
your
cause. That they follow
your
command.”

“I know this, you guys. I know what I’m up against.” I stared at the trees flashing by.

The flight had only been an hour even though we’d had to wait for half the day to get on it. Thanks to those helpful pheromones, we pretty much just skated right through all the airport hubbub to get to the gate. A few humans weren’t dazed—pheromones didn’t work on anyone that couldn’t be hypnotized, apparently, or so Toa had said—but none of them were in an authoritative position, and instead just stared in slack-jawed shock at huge, human-looking predators stalking through a brightly-lit airport with strange and scary tattoos snaking around their arms.

“Jameson is who you need to convert first. He will call everyone to his lead. But
you
need to assign him the power, not let him take it for himself, or he’ll never be yours.”

I turned to Jonas with murder in my gaze. “I. Know.”

“Just drop it, bro. Let her stew in it for a while—hey,” Charles raised his hands in surrender, yarn dangling from one of his needles, “I’m just saying. Let her wrap her head around it and she’ll figure it out. Lecturing just makes her shut off.”

“Do you want to take over helping her,
child?
You think you can do a better job?”

“Would you guys
please
shut up?” I rubbed my temples as the limo stopped in front of a quiet mansion. Dusk was settling gracefully over the large structure, its perfectly manicured lawns and artfully decorated façade ringing
home.
The first home I could remember that was
mine.
A place I belonged. And I belonged there because Stefan belonged there. And now he was in danger and possibly dead—

The slap rang out in the car.

“Thanks Jonas, I needed that. But can you find a different way of toughening me up, because that’s starting to hurt.” I rubbed my face and took a deep breath. The mansion was quiet on the outside, but inside, everyone was hopefully primed and ready, just waiting for the location.

“I don’t know that I have the strength for this. He is Stefan’s right-hand man.” Panic squeezed my chest.

“Get your shit together, human, or I’ll beat you senseless.”

I rolled my eyes and climbed from the car. Extremely on-edge and worried Jonas was so much worse than any other kind of Jonas. The concern was touching, yes, because he was just as terrified as I was about Stefan, and me not pulling this off, but
really
guy? A bit overbearing.

I took another deep breath as everyone gathered around me. We didn’t have time to lose, it was true. We’d heard from Jessie, thank god. He’d called Jonas from a payphone. When he saw Stefan dragged from his room, Jessie sprinted after them immediately. He’d thought about overtaking them, but known he’d never overcome a large group of males, so he’d followed instead. Somewhere along the way his phone had died, but now he huddled outside of a rundown old sports center about ten miles outside of town next to a decrepit old payphone. While it was probably still in use for sports when Andris showed up, there was no way that was its purpose now.

“Tim, your people are in position?” I queried.

“There or on the way. All in animal form and staying to the sidelines.”

I turned to Charles. “And the witches, they’ve been notified? Warned of the dangers?”

“All headed to the site to check it out,” Charles answered. “Whoever chooses to stay will wait for you there.”

“They’ll all stay,” Ann remarked softly.

I nodded. They would. They were dear ladies, always ready to help a sister in need. I got a lump in my throat as I said, “I’m the last piece.”

“Yup,” Jonas confirmed.

“Okay. Bitch face on.”

Charles nodded at me.

One last exhale and I was walking. Striding across that spongy grass, I headed straight for the front door.

My
front door.

To
my
house.

Where
I
was mage.

Jonas stepped up before me and opened the door, standing aside so I could go through. A crowd of leather-clad warriors stood in an organized line at the ready, all eyes turned to me as I walked through the door. One or two people bent their heads, acknowledging my status.

I couldn’t demand respect, I had to earn it. Starting now.

“Where’s Jameson?” I asked Maggie, a woman as big as any man, standing to the side perfectly relaxed.

“He’s in the battle room, waiting for your call.”

I nodded and stalked ahead, Jonas and Charles following, Tim and the other shifters waiting by the door or outside.

I pushed through the door and found Jameson pointing at a map with three others standing by—Stefan’s strategy council, if I remembered correctly. I stood in the doorway, waiting for their notice. I hoped they didn’t notice my trembling.

Jameson glanced up expectantly. “Yes? Do you have a location?”

Indignation sparked my anger. “
Yes?
Is that how you greet your mage and acting commander?”

Jameson stood up slowly and turned to me. His tattoos flashed orange. The others around the table ignored me entirely.

No, this will never do

In a stern voice and commanding eyes, Jameson said, “You have barely enough knowledge to make a spell and
no
knowledge about leading warriors in battle. Since the Boss is gone,
I
am acting commander. Now, do you have a—”

I didn’t wait for what came next. He was challenging me, and I was pretty good about dealing with that from my last week at boot camp.

I flicked the magic poised around me, wrapped it around him with a solid grip, and thrust him across the room. I flattened his body against the wall and spoke in a gentle voice. “I would hate to lose you Jameson, because you have a lot of—don’t try to fight it. Your magic can’t compete with mine—okay, well, you brought this on yourself.” I squeezed the magic around him. “You see? Breathing was a luxury I granted you just then.”

I’d picked up a few things from Cato. They were awfully helpful.

I stared at his stern, impassive face, handsome and dashing. The longer I denied him air, though, anxiety started to creep in to his expression. His eyes flicked toward the other three around the table, who were looking now! Oh yes, they stared from him, to me, back to him. Not one dared to make a move.

His gaze settled behind me, then, checking out my backup. Jonas and Charles probably stood by, waiting patiently. No help there.

Finally, his gaze resettled on me. I had his attention.

I let the magic loosen up a little, controlling my face so I didn’t show my pleasure at gaining the upper hand.

“As I was saying.” I spoke in a normal tone, completely in control—or so it sounded. “I need you. I need you to monitor the warriors so that I may focus on the magic. Andris is, right now, summoning a lesser demon. Jessie is under the impression it is a trial run. I would agree—Andris would make sure he could maintain control before going big. But Stefan is up next, and I need you leading this clan in there so I can rain down terror. Do you hear what I am saying?”

I am in charge, did that come across???

A long second ticked by. Jameson nodded.

“Good.” I released the magic and turned to the map. “Tell me what we’re dealing with.”

It turned out that Jameson was something of a strategic genius. The man spent ten short minutes linguistically sprinting around a map before explaining his positioning recommendations. Helped with his two cronies, he had a full-scale attack expertly planned.

There was only one glitch. He hadn’t thought to include the shifters. And the ‘recommendation’ that he did turned into another stare-off in which he almost kissed the wall again. But I won, we brought in Tim, and we moved on.

I could not believe I didn’t piss myself in his stare, though. It was an intense ten minutes with a guy I barely knew who didn’t have Stefan’s or Jonas’ reservations about killing me. The man was terrifying. Stefan had chosen his backup well.

“Nice work,” Charles whispered as I strode past him into the hall. “That cat didn’t hold anything back and you still bowled him over.”

“She asserted herself, nitwit, which is all she was supposed to do,” Jonas growled as he followed me.

I stopped to allow everyone to go ahead of me so I could face the whole crew, which was a battle-hardened horde of probably a hundred. They stood in the first greeting room in the mansion, tightly-packed and awaiting instructions. “As you know, Stefan is being held captive in an old sports center in a desolate area. Warriors, you will section off with Jameson as your acting commander. He has his instructions and will carry them out until such time as Stefan is able to take over. Magic workers, you will come with me. Before you link or work your craft, you will wait until I address you. I know what we are up against magically—you’ve heard or seen firsthand when I dealt with the last demon; I don’t think I need to press this issue. However, if you don’t follow my rule, I will deal with you as I see fit. Do you understand me?”

A small group of people nodded quickly.

“We will be working with the shifters. They are already positioned and in animal form. If you do not do your part, and
let them do theirs
, I will remove you from this battle, do I make myself clear?” The gravity in my voice filled the room, widening eyes and making Tim’s eyes sparkle.

Many nodded, some said, “Mage,” but all agreed. Good. Moving on.

“Any questions?” I glanced around, trying not to fidget or look impatient in any way. Stefan always stayed completely cool when addressing his people, as if his leadership was his right and he was simply enacting it. I hope I pulled off the same thing.