Darkness swallowed her whole; images from her dream licked at the surface of her mind. The oubliette had found her.
After the Magi left, she lay very still, trying to assess her injuries. She thought her ribs might be broken—that, or bruised beyond sensible belief. Each breath was agony, and when she tried to move, she wanted to vomit. She did vomit, but nothing came up. Dry heaves, which almost made her faint from the resulting anguish in her ribs.
Swallowing hard, Dela slowly inched her way up into a sitting position, leaning against the wooden pillar. She could not see anything, and she finally closed her eyes. Trying to see in the darkness was making her dizzy. Perhaps she had a concussion.
The Magi had handcuffed Dela’s hands behind her back. She tested the metal with her mind, fighting past the pain to concentrate, focus. The handcuffs had no stories to tell, and the links slipped away from her thoughts, insubstantial as water, until—and Dela held her breath—she felt friction, something tangible. She familiarized herself with the sensation of steel, letting the metal shape itself, her grip firming until she felt strong enough to tug on the links, setting her mental teeth to the steel.
She hurt all over, but again and again she pulled the links, breathless with pain and the smell of blood—her blood—and there were times when it was too much, her concentration faltering until she was forced to rest, and then begin again.
Nothing so miraculous as stopping a bullet. Blue was right. I should have done some experiments, exercises—tested the limits of my power.
Thinking of the men, especially Hari, gave her strength. They would be looking for her, although she could not count on them arriving anytime soon. Dela did not imagine the Magi had left clues.
She heard a series of groans above her; the floor, someone walking. Two great thumps, and then a low feminine cry that sounded suspiciously like a sob. The Magi shouted something, but his voice was too muffled to understand anything more than the raging anger behind his words. Again, Dela heard someone cry out, and her heart ached.
What the hell is this? The floor creaked some more, and the basement door opened. Light flooded the stairs and the Magi appeared, dragging a slight, unwilling figure behind him. A girl, and she was crying—crying, but still fighting every step, wrenching her body with stubborn abandon. The Magi pulled her along by her hair.
The Magi switched on the basement light, revealing a small striking girl who could not have been older than sixteen. Dark wild curls framed a heart-shaped face, almond eyes on fire with both rage and despair. Bruises mottled her right cheek; her blouse was torn, her denim skirt riding high on her legs.
She gasped when she saw Dela, and the two of them stared at each other, their bond instantaneous, forged by a shared hatred for the man standing between them.
“The virgin sacrifice?” Dela asked, alarmed when she had trouble opening her mouth to speak. Her jaw felt wired shut with pain.
A bitter smile appeared on the girl’s lips, and the Magi shoved her toward the opposite pillar. He pulled out another pair of handcuffs. There was not a trace of warmth in his actions. Dela felt as though she was watching someone tie up an errant dog.
“This is my daughter, Ms. Reese. It doesn’t matter if you won’t give up the box. My plan will proceed without it, as long as Hari does everything I say. Which he will. Unless, of course, he enjoys watching me torture you.”
Dela barely heard him. His daughter?
The very notion boggled Dela’s mind, as did the Magi’s unfathomable motivation for the girl’s presence and obvious abuse.
“Hari will kill you first,” she said.
The Magi laughed, his eyes glittering. “My dear, he can try, but I am afraid he will find me quite indestructible.”
Dela struggled not to vomit. “What do you mean?”
The Magi leaned close, his breath hot against her stinging cheeks. “You were quite right, Ms. Reese. There was a price to pay. Hari is not the only one cursed.”
He stood back, watching her digest that bit of information. “Hari will find you. He has no choice in the matter. No doubt he is coming now, with all your friends in tow.”
“You don’t seem terribly worried.”
The Magi’s eyes turned distant, and for a moment Dela sensed some great strain upon his body, a terrible twisting in his gut. But all he said was, “I have taken precautions.”
He glanced at his daughter, then turned off the light and marched up the stairs. When he shut the door, darkness spilled through the room, filling eyes and mouths, stuffing ears.
Across from Dela, shoes scuffed concrete.
“Hello?” called a soft voice, lightly accented. “Hey. What’s your name?”
“Dela Reese. You?”
“Lise Amarro.”
Lise Amarro, the daughter of the Magi. Handcuffed in the basement with her.
Shit. This is weird, Dela thought.
She wet her lips. “Are you all right?”
Short, wild laughter filled the darkness. “You’re insane, right? I should be asking you that question. That man is psycho. He is so completely mental he makes Ted Bundy look sane.”
“He’s your father.”
“Oh,” she sobbed, with laughter and rage, “call me Luke. I am your father.”
The girl was hysterical, but then, if Dela had the Magi as a father, she herself might be wearing tinfoil hats and hiding from aliens.
Dela tested her bonds. Her mind felt stronger and she used her gift to wrench hard on the links. She felt one give, and triumph roared through her heart.
“How long have you known your father?” She asked, talking to distract her mind from pain. She coughed, reeling against her restraints, and tasted blood. Over the roaring in her ears, Dela heard Lise’s voice, calmer now, more in control.
“I met him the first time almost three weeks ago, but he’s been paying the bills all my life. My mom died not long after I was born. My dad hired nurses to raise me. I used to dream of meeting him. I didn’t have high expectations, but this …”
“What has he told you?” Dela pressed her power on the steel. The link stretched.
“Nothing,” Lise whispered. “Nothing important, anyway. He tells me to eat, or to be quiet. He tells me to sleep. He tells me I can’t escape. He tells me to be a good daughter.” A pause then, almost as if Lise was shaking herself. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger. “I don’t think he’s owned this place long. No furniture, barely any food. I’ve been locked up since day one, but I’ve seen out some of the windows. Looks like forest, all around. Mountains, maybe. I’m not sure.”
Dela gritted her teeth, wrapping her mind around the handcuff link, pulling hard.
The link snapped.
Dela gasped, and Lise said, “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Dela breathed. “I just freed myself.”
“What? How? You’re wearing handcuffs!”
Dela found it nearly impossible to straighten out her body. She had to rest, panting, with each small roll of her shoulders.
“Have you ever … ah, shit, that hurts … been able to do weird things? Lise? You know, stuff you only see in movies? You seen your father do that kind of shit?”
Lise’s silence held its own weight, and seemed answer enough. Dela pushed on, even as she gathered her strength to stand. “I don’t know why your father brought you here, but—oh, God! Unh!” Dela clutched her ribs as she pushed herself to her knees. She felt broken. Worse, even, like something vital in her body had been smashed, torn into little bits.
“Dela?” Lise sounded panicked; Dela heard the girl’s cuffs rattle, and suddenly the basement was filled with light. Glowing orbs danced within the darkness, silver-soft as moonlight.
“Ah,” Dela sighed, staring at the girl.
Lise’s eyes were wide, startled. “Please don’t be afraid,” she begged. “Please. They’re harmless. I didn’t even mean to show you, but when I heard you cry out—”
“Shhh,” Dela soothed. “Why did you
think I just asked you all those questions? I can do things, too, Lise.”
“Is that why he wants you?” The girl leaned forward against her restraints.
The orbs flickered, floating close to Dela. They gave off no heat, but her skin tingled, like static. Forget science, Dela thought. From now on, it’s all magic.
She tried to stand, but couldn’t find the strength. Instead, she opened her mind and felt for Lise’s handcuffs. Dela kept expecting the Magi to sense her actions, but she heard nothing from above.
“He’s using me as bait to attract a man named Hari,” she explained. “The two of them are old enemies. Very old. A long time ago, your father hurt Hari in ways that can’t even be described. I guess he wants to finish the job.”
The handcuff link snapped, and Lise stared at her cuffed wrists and the dangling, separated chains. “That is so cool,” she said, clambering to her feet. She rushed to Dela’s side. “What can I do to help?”
Good kid. I like her, even if her dad is a psycho.
“Just give me a hand—let me lean on you a bit. I think my ribs are broken.”
“He almost killed you.” Her voice was low, filled with hate.
“Yeah,” Dela muttered, taking in Lise’s own bruised face. “But he didn’t do you any favors, either.”
Lise looked away and gave Dela her hand. With a great deal of effort, they both managed to get Dela on her feet. She swayed, but found standing on her own was not quite the impossible feat she had feared. Still, Lise insisted on being used as a crutch, and Dela was grateful that in Lise’s case, the apple appeared to have fallen about half a continent away from the tree.
The orbs continued to light the basement. Dela and Lise shuffled to the stairs, freezing when the first step creaked beneath their feet. They held their breath, but heard nothing from the floor above. The two of them continued up the stairs, Dela struggling to maintain her composure, biting back cries of pain. She bit her lip, hard, and tasted blood.
Lise pushed opened the basement door, a tentative movement that left them both breathless, hearts pounding. Dela expected the Magi to rip the knob out of her hands and shove them down the stairs, but from the room beyond the only sound was the steady drip of water. Lise peered around the door and then stepped back to help Dela through. The orbs blinked out.
The kitchen was battered, the linoleum stained and cracked. Paint peeled in ribbons from the walls, and the stove looked as though generations of spaghetti sauce had lived and burned upon its surface. Dela smelled incense.
The back door was only five feet away, and for the first time Dela felt truly afraid. The old saying—so close, and yet so far— had never held as much meaning for her as it did in that moment. She could taste freedom, but if the Magi caught them …
Your life is a movie thriller, Dela told herself, as they crept across the kitchen to the door. And you’re down to the final scenes.
Like a miracle, the door swung open without mishap, no alarms howling their escape. Night had fallen, but Dela could make out a forest looming just beyond a stretch of overgrown lawn.
“Run,” Dela ordered Lise, trying to shove the girl away. “I’ll slow you down.”
“Hell, no.”
“Lise.”
“I’m not going to leave you.”
“Screw nobility, kid. He brought you here for a reason, and if you’re gone, he loses. Now, run.”
Lise hesitated, but Dela pushed her again and resolve hardened in the girl’s dark gaze. “I’ll find help,” she promised. Dela knew she meant it.
Lise took off for the forest like a greyhound. Dela hobbled after her as fast as she could, but walking was difficult enough. Lying down on the grass and passing out felt more like her speed.
The hairs prickled on the back of her neck; a warning.
Just at the edge of the forest, Lise cried out. A moment later, Dela ran full force into an invisible barrier. The unexpected impact knocked her to the ground, and she screamed in agony, clutching her ribs. Stars danced; Dela thought she might faint. On the periphery of her vision, she glimpsed a shadow running toward her from the house.
A roar split the night, full of wild fury. Dela tried to stand, but a boot slammed hard against her side, knocking her senseless with pain.
“Hari!” bellowed the Magi, his eyes wild and searching. “It’s time!”
Dela heard someone crying, and realized it was Lise. She rolled her eyes, trying to see, and found the girl beating her fists against the air.
From the shadows of the forest slipped an immense creature of liquid grace. Lise stopped pounding on the invisible barrier; she backed away as the tiger padded silent as death through the unseen wall, golden eyes burning, burning.
A profound silence settled over the Magi as he stared into the tiger’s eyes.
“Your skin,” he whispered. He sucked in a mighty breath, and turned on Dela. “You gave him back his skin.”
His foot pressed down on her ribs, merciless, and Dela screamed. Hari’s own howls melded with her own, and he launched himself at the Magi—
—only to be knocked aside by the invisible wall. Hari found his feet in an instant, swiping at the air with his claws, hurling himself against the barrier, loss and fury and love spilling over into the night.
Golden light bathed the tiger, and a moment later, the man took its place. Sweat covered Hari’s body, his eyes glowing like twin suns.
“The spell has not been lifted,” said the Magi softly. “I can feel it all around you, despite your skin.”
“Release her,” Hari ordered, his deep voice filled with death.
“A life for a life, Hari. That is the way it goes.”
“My life?” Hari held out his hands. “Take it if you can. Anything you want, if you will let my mistress go free.”
“No,” Dela breathed.
“Anything?” asked the Magi. His smile was cruel. “My price then, Hari. My daughter stands behind you. I want you to fuck her.”
Chapter Eighteen
Whoa.
Even Hari looked stunned. Lise stared at her father like he was the devil.
“You have got to be kidding.” The girl held up her hands when Hari turned to look at her. “Stay away from me, man.”
An expression of profound disgust settled over Hari’s face. “How could you ask such a thing, Magi? What father demands the rape of his own daughter?”
The Magi threw back his head, his lips twisting into a snarl. “A father who has bred his daughter for that exact purpose. Oh, Hari. I have been waiting for this opportunity for over a millennia.”
“For what reason?” Hari slammed his fists against the barrier. “Do you wish me to make her pregnant? Are you still, after all these years, lusting after a shape-shifter child of your own blood?”
The Magi’s laugh was low, hard. His boot ground into Dela’s ribs and she stifled a cry. Hari heard, though. Dela felt his gaze trace every inch of her face, taking in injuries she had no desire to imagine. Bone-deep rage whitened Hari’s lips and knuckles. Claws split through his fingernails.
“I once wanted a child of tiger blood,” said the Magi, soft. “Someone who would be of both worlds, yet belong to me alone. But I lost that desire a very long time ago. All I care about now is being separated from your life. Your curse. Do you know the price I paid, Hari? Immortality, yes—but my magic turned against me, turning my power into pain.”
The Magi knelt over Dela, pressing his knee into her ribs. He looked up at Hari, and his smile was sickening.
“You’ve grown close to your mistress, Hari. Intimately so, I suspect. Do you like how I’ve treated her in your absence? Don’t you wonder what else I’ve done, that you cannot yet see?” The Magi ran his tongue up the side of Dela’s face, and she snarled breathlessly at him.
Hari threw himself against the barrier, his face elongating, muscles contorting. His scream was wordless, deep; the air quaked, and Dela wanted him to stop—stop and save his strength.
Don’t giv
e him the satisfaction, she pleaded.
The Magi shook his finger at the enraged shape-shifter.
“My daughter, Hari. Or else the only rape performed tonight will be on Ms. Reese.”
The situation was unimaginable. Even in Hari’s worst nightmares he had never considered such a horrific choice. Rape a girl, or watch his mate suffer the same fate. And even if he did such a thing, the Magi still might kill Dela. Just as he had killed Hari’s sister, right before his eyes.
“What are you?” shrieked the girl, staring at her father. “What kind of monster would do this? Why?”
“Hari!” Dela called out his name, and Hari saw what it cost her. Her face was a swollen mass of bruises and blood, her clothes torn, stained red. But her eyes—her eyes were still bright, and they were pleading with him.
Don’t do it. Please, don’t do it.
If he did, if he succumbed, it would kill them both. He knew this, as did she. Some lines could not be crossed—some rivers were too deep, acid instead of water.
“I love you,” he said to her, and it was all he could say, all he could do in that moment to make her understand he had heard her message, that no matter what was to come, he would suffer with her, he would die with her. That in the end, they would both close their eyes and know their hands were clean of everything but love. Untouched, unsullied by dishonor.
Hari stopped fighting. His hands fell to his sides, and he stared at the Magi, who watched him with a sudden trace of uneasiness.
Dela smiled.
The Magi saw and comprehension twisted his face into an inhuman mask of fury. Snarling, he curled his fists and raised them above Dela’s head. Hari shouted, throwing himself against the wall.
Dela brought up her own hands. Hari willed her his strength.
Before the Magi could strike, a huge form darted from the sky, knocking aside the Magi. As the man flew through the air, his barrier collapsed. Hari stumbled past, falling on his knees beside Dela.
“Delilah,” he breathed, desperate to touch her, unable to find a scrap of skin spared by the Magi’s cruelty. Dela reached for his hand, and brought his palm to her lips.
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