White confetti flakes of plaster floated down on their heads as a series of reverberations shook the building.
"My unit was formed to deal with instances such as this, Ms. Rourke."
"My people," Vanse began, but Tatya held up her hand and silenced him.
"Thank you and please call me Tatya. I'm grateful to you, Major Bryson, and to you, Sheriff Corwin, and those of you who stayed to defend me without knowing what this is about. But too many men, forgive me, I don't know their names, have paid too high a price today. Changing Sky, Vanse, Corwin, Major, a moment, please. In private."
Tatya stood, and the four men followed her back to her suite. Once inside, she talked while Vanse leaned against the door and watched, his expression calculating and predatory. Ten minutes later, she sat back and waited for their response.
Changing Sky backed her plan. He was working closest with her, and he told the others to trust her. He had absolute faith in her judgment. Corwin and Bryson listened, argued, and at last accepted.
"I want to talk with Tatya, alone," Vanse said as the emotional blast of his reaction scorched along the link.
She slammed it shut. The decision was made.
After the others left, Vanse paced up and down. Tatya kept the link sealed as the pounding waves of Vanse's emotion battered her defenses and threatened to unbalance her self-control.
"This is the craziest, most insane idea I've ever heard," he threw at her, his eyes flashing shards of gold. "You realize how easily this can misfire. You're judging Angelus by your standards. Human standards. Demons have no standards. Yes, he'll agree to your demands, but once he gets what he wants, do you think he'll keep his promise?"
Vanse ranted on, pointing out not just everything that could go wrong, but every little detail of how it would go wrong, and exactly what that result would entail for her.
Yet every word he spoke cemented her determination. She didn't respond, waiting until he'd vented his frustration. "I don't stand alone," she told him, thrusting her chin up. "I have ancient powers; Changing Sky and his spirit guides to support me, and I have Aunt Lil and Sean standing by my side. This is the way it has to be done."
Eventually, he stopped arguing and put his arms around her.
She opened the link, her body erupting with pleasure as she responded to him. He was the beloved, always had been, and always would be, no matter what happened. Why, after lifetimes, when the possibility of happiness came along–no matter how bizarre the situation–was there no chance of it lasting? She tightened her arms around his neck, unwilling to release him.
The link expanded and isolated them in their own bubble. Existence narrowed to a delight in touch, of skin flushed warm as breath rose and fell, and the scent of sandalwood filled her senses. For one moment, the world faded away, and they had only each other, and none could harm them. The almost physical ache in her heart quietened. I've waited lifetimes, she thought, how can I let him go? She pulled him closer and wondered if she had the will and the strength to do what had to be done. She leaned against him as he buried his face in her hair.
And the Bandrui whispered spells to ease the separation and seal her cracking armor. Staying here with him, just the two of them, was nothing more than an impossible mirage. There would be no leaving the ordained path.
As if he knew, he kissed her fiercely, and left.
Tatya threw herself on the bed, curled into a ball and sought comfort from the Bandrui. She'd never expected to feel this intensely about anyone. With the way she’d rolled the dice, it hurt she might never have another chance. But the Bandrui didn't respond, and at length, she fell into an uneasy sleep and dreamed of Vanse holding her in his arms.
When he returned, bringing Changing Sky with him, Tatya was awake. As they entered, she studied the two of them, observing and liking that their relationship had changed from antagonism and fear to something new.
Vanse didn't recoil when the shaman glanced his way, and Changing Sky seemed to have adopted an almost paternal attitude toward the half-demon, half-vampire lord.
"Is it time?" Tatya hoped she sounded stronger than she felt, because while her gut told her this was the only solution, she was scared. She'd put into motion a plan she didn't dare think about too deeply, or else she wouldn’t be able to play her part.
"We've given Corwin a large white flag." Changing Sky's expression was neutral.
"Angelus will at least give him a hearing, won't he? Curiosity and all that."
"Let’s do it then." Her mentor held out one hand to Tatya, and the other to Vanse, who grasped it without flinching. Normally, a shaman's touch resulted in a searing burn for a vampire, but Changing Sky had shielded his skin. Vanse gripped her other hand, joining the three of them in a circle.
Tatya opened her shields, and a tidal wave of power flooded in from the other two and filled her. She gasped for breath, cried out and the Bandrui opened like a flower welcoming the sun. They absorbed every last drop, made it small, and hid it where Angelus's prying eyes would never see. Then the Bandrui receded from her consciousness. She prayed they would return when needed.
A knock on the door and their hands fell apart. Corwin stood there with Bryson at his shoulder, looking ready to catch the Sheriff if he fell. Judging from Corwin's expression, that was a distinct possibility.
"Tatya, you don't have to do this. Those…" Corwin stuttered to a stop, stumped for words to describe what he'd seen. "We'll find another way. If I survive this, that scene up there will haunt me to the end of my days."
"It's okay, Corwin. The one card we hold is me, and he needs me alive. Did he agree?"
Corwin nodded. "Swore on your life. Said if you appeared as promised, he and his army would disappear. No one had to die." He glared at Vanse. "Told me to tell you, he'd spare even you."
"How generous of him," Vanse's mouth curled in a sneer. "No doubt he is the most magnanimous soul that ever walked the earth."
"I'm sorry, Ms. Tatya," said Bryson, "he stipulated certain conditions be met when we deliver you."
"Deliver," spat Corwin. He yanked three long strips of white cloth from his pocket. "Wrists, mouth, and eyes." He thrust the bindings at Vanse, his hand shaking. "And you must be the one to bring her. Those were his words."
For a minute Tatya faltered. The cloths flickered with strips of blackness she knew Changing Sky and Vanse saw, but neither Corwin nor Bryson possessed the sight to see. Angelus intended to separate her from everything and everyone; she'd be at his mercy. She didn't know if she had the strength, then the image of Aunt Lil smiling at her rose in her mind, and Tatya accepted that no matter the consequences, she would do her utmost to execute her plan. Too many lives depended on her to change her mind now.
Vanse didn't flinch as he took hold of the ensorcelled bindings, but the desolation on his face almost weakened her resolve. He lifted her wrists, tying them first. Despite tying them loosely, the instant he finished, the cursed cloth tightened against her skin, and sharp, stabbing pains shot through every nerve in her body. The jabbing stings eased as lethargy crept over her.
Vanse moved around behind her. Her awareness of him had dulled. More searing stabs pierced her mouth and eyes as he gagged her with the second cloth and blindfolded her with the third. Not a scrap of light penetrated the blindfold and a deep blackness entombed her senses. Her tongue was a heavy, immovable weight in her mouth.
Tatya lost her bearings the second the bindings cinched tight. Angelus' restraints disconnected her mind from her body and reshaped her reality. She was more than just imprisoned in a tower of sparkling black bars inside her own head; she was paralyzed.
Vanse took her arm and guided her out of the room with Changing Sky, Corwin and Bryson in a procession behind them. Blind, and unable to protest even if she wanted to, Tatya barely knew what was happening. Access to her power, to the Bandrui, her links with Vanse, and Changing Sky had been cut off, and she was alone. Except for the dead who stayed with her. She clung to Aunt Lil and Sean.
>
As the elevator door closed on the two of them, Vanse embraced her, holding her tight, blood tears leaking from his eyes. Tatya was dimly aware that she should know who this was, but the memory remained out of reach on the other side of the darkness. He didn't release her until the elevator pinged their arrival at the ground floor.
When the elevator doors opened, the outline of a glowing, golden figure penetrated the heaviness overlaying her senses. She knew who this was. Angelus. With that recognition, the names of others reemerged. Corwin. A friend who'd now go home to his wife, where they would hug each other in bed at night and live out the rest of their lives. As would Bellamy, Bryson, and the others whose blood she refused to have spilled on her account. She'd initiated this plan and was determined to follow it through to the finish. She clung to that thought.
Angelus reached out, and a cold pit of dread swelled inside Tatya as a golden arm snaked toward her, took hold of her arm, and dragged her to him. There was nothing she could do but stand, frozen and defenseless. His power flickered through her to Vanse, and for an instant, the three of them were linked as Vanse held one arm and his maker the other. Even through her confinement, she sensed the similarities.
By becoming half-vampire, Angelus escaped the absolute banishment of his demon species from this world, but as a demon arrogant in his strength, he'd not concerned himself with vampire imperatives. When he killed Vanse and satisfied his thirst, he'd studied his victim. He'd watched with interest as blood from where he'd cut his lip with his fangs dripped into the dying man's mouth. His first mistake was not completing the bonding; his second was underestimating the depth of Vanse's love for Tatya. He'd created an enemy instead of a slave.
The demon's loathing of his firstborn flooded through Tatya and she felt every drop as if it were her own. Vanse was what Angelus was not, and Angelus abhorred what he saw as an aberration to be exterminated. He smiled, a shiver of nails scraping her skin as he sliced Vanse's link to her.
Vanse shuddered.
"Thank you, Vanse. You've proven a cunning adversary and grown stronger over the centuries—more than I could have anticipated." He gestured at the demonic host, motionless and coiled to spring, awaiting his orders outside the hospital. "They serve me because I am more powerful. These days, those I turn have little or no demonic powers. I kill any half-demon who shows promise of power, and most cannot even walk in the day. That makes you, Vanse, not just my eldest, but my only true child. A shame I didn't kill you when I had the chance. I leave you alive for now, but I will return, and you will die. I promise you that much."
Vanse pushed away his repugnance, not wanting to antagonize the demon lord further, and fearful of the repercussions for Tatya. He released his hold on her arm and stepped back into the elevator.
Angelus pulled her close. She rested against his chest, and he laid his arm around her shoulders possessively. "Compliant, isn't she?" he taunted Vanse, as he pressed the button and the doors slid closed.
Tatya caught eddies of anguish from Vanse at the jibe that faded as the doors slid closed and left her alone. A question rose in the choking darkness. How effective were these restraints? Could she break them? Even as she tried, Angelus rested his gaze on her, and she silenced the scream that rose as the bars of her prison heated, reddening, smoldering, and emitting flickering needles she knew would blister and scald. Was this how her torment would begin? The feverish warmth dwindled as he laid the weight of his will on her, claiming possession. She leaned into him, submissive, and felt his exultation at her surrender.
Chapter Twenty-Four: In the Face of Adversity
Amidst the thickening, swirling red mist, Tatya sensed Angelus turning toward her. He untied the blindfold and the gag, and the reddish haze thinned, but his physical closeness and their link ensured it didn't recede completely. As Tatya opened her eyes, he raised her chin, forcing her to look up at him. She gazed into his eyes, blue as the sky on a summer's day. With his body touching hers, his beauty was devastating. She would obey his commands. That was the natural order of things; her purpose was to serve him. Why had she sought to escape his dominion? How had she not known his authority was paramount? That no matter what, he would win?
"Come," he smiled as they faced the hellish army that occupied the hospital grounds and expanded into the town.
Tatya gazed on the scene, and shrank inside herself. She flinched as the vast demonic army gave a great roar, their twisted features grinning in triumph as they howled and cavorted in joy at their adored leader's achievement.
"I raised this army for you," he whispered, his breath hot, searing across her ear.
She bit her lip.
"Good. You will be an apt pupil." He held her arm in an iron grip as he marched her toward the entrance.
Though she could see and speak, she dared not. She was still bound, and her will was not her own.
"But first I must gratify my followers. You and I have a ceremony to perform."
Outside, the sky was heavy with crimson tinged storm clouds; lightning strikes flared and split the earth. The air was stifling, oppressive, and unnaturally hot. Despite the sweltering temperature, the sun appeared to have forsaken the earth.
As Angelus walked with Tatya by his side, the horde parted, and created a wide avenue. Ahead, his followers had erected a platform.
Tatya tried to remember she chose this, and to hang on to her reasons for agreeing to this insanity, but a sudden, icy foreboding closed her throat. She gasped and struggled for breath.
Angelus stopped. "Soon, you'll have nothing to fear," he said, placing his hand on her throat. His power trickled in hot globules through her skin and opened her airway. Her breathing returned to normal though the spot where he'd placed his palm pulsed with agonizing pain.
Angelus's legions shrieked and bayed a ghastly, deafening tumult of approval as he resumed walking.
The platform was a hasty construct of trees uprooted from the hospital grounds, topped with a level floor of what had once been white picket fences. Sorcery held the structure together, giving it the illusion of a royal edifice.
Angelus strode up the makeshift steps and onto the center of the platform. He looked over his vast army of twisted, demoniac creatures and their frenzy increased. He inclined his head and silence fell. "We have what we came for," he pushed Tatya forward. "And we will all profit."
Those with swords and shields banged one against the other and drummed a slow rhythm. Quiet at first, they increased the volume and speed of the beat, accompanied by wild shouts and screams. Others chanted a monotonous drone beneath the drumming. The cacophony cascaded outward in awful, disruptive waves.
The pulsating throb invaded Tatya's mind and drowned out everything else. She only knew she was in Hell, abandoned to the mercy of a demon master and his host.
Angelus bent, pressing his lips to hers. Tatya shivered, experiencing once more the mixture of exquisite joy laced with excruciating pain that was his kiss. Yes, she was his, and she acknowledged his dominance.
He drew back, his expression exultant. The next moment, he grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked her head back, stretching her neck, as his other hand loosened the last binding on her wrists.
"For this, you must be free," he said bending toward her. As he released the piece of cloth, it floated away, and the leaden weight binding her will to his lifted. In that second, giving her no chance to react, he sank his fangs into her jugular, drinking deeply.
Tatya weakened, as drop by drop, he drained her blood. Her vision faded, and as he sucked out her life, she tumbled into oblivion.
She woke in darkness. Of the past, she recalled nothing; of the future, she had no awareness. There was only this place and this moment. As her sight adjusted to the gloom, she saw a flat, featureless plain stretching to the horizon in all directions. In the distance, a copper radiance shone. Fascinated, drawn by instinct, she ran toward it, her passage swift as the glow beckoned, luring her on. When she came close she saw the figure of a m
an, facing away from her. He was tall, golden-skinned, with perfect musculature, and his hair a mane of red-gold. She recognized him. Angelus. The enemy. The demon who'd evaded exile.
He spun around at her approach. "How are you here?" he asked, his mouth dropping open, puzzlement on his face. Without warning, he sprang at her, his hands rigid around her throat, and squeezed relentlessly. "I drained you. You should be mine."
Tatya staggered back under the force of his attack, but his touch woke the ancient Bandrui, and their magic surged through her. She tore his fingers away, charged with knowledge of her purpose.
His eyes widened in astonishment. "You," he hissed, his lips curling into a snarl. He rushed at her, a flaming sword in his raised hand.
She flung silver spears of energy at him. They pierced his body with such force they flung him onto his back.
He wrenched them out and came at her, his face a twisted mask of hatred.
If he defeated her on this plane, there would be no coming back. If she drank one drop of his blood, she would be his to control, and thralldom to a demon would be her sentence for all time. She smiled, the corners of her mouth lifting, as Vanse's connection jolted into existence. His power, and that of every half-demon, half-vampire he controlled poured into her, combining with the Bandrui power.
"Do you imagine the traitor will have a swift death? I will make sure he takes an eternity to die," Angelus hissed, and hurled a fiery discus at her, "and you will watch every second."
"Shields up." Tatya heard her mentor's voice, and through the link, added his protection to her wards, strengthening them. The flaming disc hit the barrier and disappeared in a burst of sparks.
The Bandrui sang, intoning an archaic mantra in a language unheard since beyond history. Now slow, now fast, now high, now low, the incantation resonated, gaining potency as it increased in volume.
Tatya added her voice to theirs, the words forming in her mind as they sang. Angelus didn't move, and for the briefest of instants, Tatya saw fear as first, Qaletaqa manifested, followed by Meyoquannee and Otakay. Changing Sky and his spirit guides started a different chant, a hypnotic hum, a low counterpoint to the rhythm of the Bandrui.
Healer's Magic Page 20