by Terri Lane
When Reilly came back to herself, Maksim was still inside her, breathing hard and propping himself up over her with his arms. She could feel the flush suffusing her pale face as she looked up into his dark gaze, her own eyes bright with satisfaction. Mack drew his cock out of her, then shifted his weight to lie down next to her on the couch. A little echo of the orgasm twitched through Reilly’s body, and she sighed happily.
“Was that what you needed?” Maksim murmured in her ear.
Reilly didn't answer; she just wriggled her back against his chest until she was comfortable and closed her eyes. She wasn't tired, but she liked the warmth of him, the obdurate strength of him, and at that moment, she felt like her worries were far away. After a few minutes, Maksim's breathing became slow and regular, and she knew he was asleep. She smiled. Yes, she thought to herself. Yes, this was what I needed.
Noon Saturday: Breach Day plus one
Maksim and Reilly were eating lunch when Abdul came back in the mini-gunship. He brought the aircraft to a gentle landing in a clearing not far from the hidden trailer, and it didn’t take him long to meet Mack and Reilly inside. Reilly noticed with a pang in her heart that the slender pilot was alone. She stood up from the couch as he entered the little trailer and smiled. “I don’t think I got the chance to thank you for flying us out of there.” She held out her hand. “Reilly McAllister.”
Abdul took her hand and shook it, his expression neutral. “It was nothing,” he said in a light, melodic accent. “I owed Sokolov a favor.”
“Did you find them?” Maksim asked quietly, from the sofa.
Abdul shook his head. “No. There was no trace. Most of my neighbors are gone as well. It is possible they all got out together, though I do not know where they or my family would have gone.” He forced a slight smile onto his angular face. “There is still hope.”
Maksim nodded gravely. “I'll help you find them, one way or another. You have my word. But what of the government. Is the military doing anything? We haven't heard much on the radio other than various canned emergency messages.”
Abdul shrugged. “It is chaos out there, my friend. Utter chaos. It is hard to tell if the military is able to do anything at all. The sky is full of smoke. I don’t think I passed a single city that was not burning.” He bowed his head for a moment, and Reilly could see the exhaustion lines etched into his face. Then he took a deep breath and continued. “Some of my friends with M&J Engineering have been in touch, however, and they say that the eggheads at their lab in Detroit have some ideas about what this disaster might be.”
Reilly jumped at the name of the company. M&J Engineering was the rival high-tech research and development firm to her employer, NextGen Solutions. She thought about a thirty-foot tall red-scaled demon crashing through the side of the NextGen corporate tower. Okay, she amended. My former employer. At this point, company loyalty didn’t mean a damn thing. “They’re working on a solution to this?”
Abdul held up his hands. “I have no idea. It was only a rumor.”
Reilly turned to meet Mack’s eyes. “Then we need to go there. I have the hard-drive with my team’s data—” she paused, frowning. “Assuming it was still in my pocket when you took my clothes to wash.”
Maksim nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “It's in the laundry closet on a shelf. Safe and sound.”
Reilly breathed out a sigh of relief. At least something had gone remotely right. She turned back to Abdul. “Can you take us to the MJE site?”
Abdul’s expression hardened. “While I was happy to do a favor for Maksim, I do not know you. I only came back here at all because I said that I would. I am going to take my bird and go find my family. You can find some other way to clean up your—”
“Abdul,” Maksim interjected, his tone mild. “We will come with you to find your family. Once they are safe, we would take it as a kindness if you would drop us off in Detroit. Family comes first. But getting us to Detroit is a good idea, and it could help resolve all of this.” Reilly sat back down on the couch, trying not to let her anger and shame show in her face. She could tell by the heat in her cheeks that she was failing.
Abdul flicked a glance from Maksim to Reilly, shrewd brown eyes catching on some detail that he hadn’t noticed when he’d come inside. The corner of his mouth twitched. His expression softened by a degree. He sighed, and all the exhaustion of the last day made him sag forward a little. “Thank you. Both of you. I am sorry for my temper. It was a long flight.”
Maksim nodded. “Go get some rest. We can plan things out in the morning.” Abdul nodded and shuffled off for one of the bedrooms on the far side of the trailer home.
Reilly sighed. “Even if a solution is found right away, nothing is going to be the same again, is it?”
Maksim shook his head. “No. It won’t be the same.” But then his mouth crooked up in a little grin and he said, “But it’s never the same no matter what we do. You can’t beat yourself up over what was. You can’t get lost worrying about ‘what if’.” He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “You can only worry about what you have now, and what you’re going to do next.” Seeing the bleak look on Reilly’s face, Maksim reached up with one hand and gently turned her face so that she met his eyes. “You have the data. The MJE guys have their ideas.” He gestured to his outstretched right arm, to the hidden bundles of synthetic metal muscle within. “You have a damaged world, but it isn’t broken completely. And I’m living proof that sometimes damaged things come back stronger.” He smiled, and Reilly couldn’t help but smile with him. His grin was contagious. “So, Reilly, what are you going to do next?”
Reilly thought about it. She thought about her team, lost when the portal collapsed. She thought about Washington, D.C., torn and tattered by the disaster. She thought about the red-scaled titan and his taunts. And instead of the fear that she had expected to come with those thoughts, she found that she felt only a sense of grim determination. “Maksim,” she said, her voice fierce, her verdant eyes alight, “I’m going to slam shut that fucking Door.”
The mercenary only smiled. “Damn right you are.”
THE END
= Bonus Book 9 of 20 =
Owned by Dragons
PROLOGUE
SAMARA:
“Samara, my little goose, I will need you to summon one of your Dead for me,” Lex said lightly. I frowned. I should never have done it the first time, I thought. A few weeks before, I had summoned the spirit of my mother. I had, like any girl in a long-term relationship, wanted my boyfriend to meet her. I realized then that maybe I had made a mistake in showing my demon-shifter boyfriend how strong my powers as a Necromancer were. We were standing in the luxurious living room in Lex’s penthouse apartment. It was sleekly decorated in black leather modern style furniture and gold accent pieces. A Goya was perfectly poised above the black and white mosaic fireplace, which held a roaring fire, as was Lex’s wont. We had just returned from an extravagant dinner at one of the most extravagant restaurants in the city—oysters, champagne, filet mignon, a decadent seven-layer cake. Lex spoiled me rotten.
“Again? Why?” I asked, trying to keep the alarm out of my voice. Lex was several thousand years old, however he looked to be in his early thirties. His looks were model-level gorgeous. He had angular features, a straight nose, and a razor-sharp jaw. He had thick, dark black hair and deep brown eyes that he used to hide their true red glow. His teeth were white, perfect, even if his canines had a bit of a sharp point to them.
“I need a little… help on something,” he replied vaguely. My eyes instantly narrowed.
“What kind of help?” I said. He looked at me uneasily. It was obvious he didn’t want to tell me.
“Does it matter?” he said. He was getting cagey. Something was definitely off. I saw a sharp red gleam flit across his warm brown eyes.
“I does, in fact,” I told my boyfriend. I kept my voice light and even, turning my gaze to the large floor-to-ceiling window in
his penthouse apartment and looking out over the city. It was night, and the sky was ink-black. The city lights glowed golden and red, lighting up the buildings like an anthill fairyland. I could see my face in the reflection; pale, worried. I relaxed my jaw, hoping that it would be enough.
“It’s no concern of yours, Samara,” he replied. “Just summon a few for me, please?” The way he said it, it sounded as though he thought it were nothing—a simple favor, like borrowing a cup of sugar. Warning bells were going off inside of me. This was wrong. What could he possibly want? Raising the Dead was not a simple thing. It took real power, and had massive consequences when misused.
“Actually, any of the Dead that I summon are most certainly my concern.” I continued, slowly, moving forward with caution. “Being a Necromancer comes with much responsibility. You know what happens when a Necromancer abuses her powers.” His face was a pale mask, poorly hiding his…fury? He walked over to me briskly, his studied ease having vanished.
“You did it once,” he snapped, referring to the time when I had summoned my mother in front of him, which was not really an abuse of my powers.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have,” I remarked. “But I thought that you wanted to meet my mother.”
“I wish to speak with her again,” he said, continuing to push his agenda. Did he really think that I was so stupid? Well, evidently. My mother would be one of the strongest Dead, having been a powerful clairvoyant in life. I stepped away from him. He closed the distance, placing a large, warm hand on my shoulder. He attempted to rub my shoulder, instead pulling at the black satin dress that I wore. He ran his finger over the diamond choker that he had given me and looked me in the eye. He smiled.
“Please, Samara,” he said. “I have questions for her.”
“What sort of questions?”
“Ones concerning life and death.” I frowned. He had no concern for either of those things. He was a demon. He could not, technically, die. At least, not like a human could. I cursed myself for not at least reading a bit of demonology. It would certainly have come in handy in this relationship.
“Tell me exactly what you are going to do,” I said, pretending that I was being coy, when, in fact, I was highly suspicious. I placed a hand lightly on his chest.
“No.” His answer was blunt.
“Then I won’t summon any Dead,” I replied evenly.
His fist connected with my face in what felt like a horrible explosion. I had not seen it coming. As pain throbbed like a heartbeat within the skin of my cheek, I looked at Lex in shock. This was not what my kind, caring boyfriend would do. His good-looking face was twisted in dark fury. I had never seen him this way. Fear pooled in my stomach in sickening waves. I was one of the most powerful witches in the world, and yet…facing my demon-shifter boyfriend, I was frightened.
“How dare you disobey me?” he yelled, his voice booming. Who was he to demand my obedience?
“Obey you?” I replied weakly, in an attempt to regain my standing. His eyes widened. His hand was moving again, but I was so shocked that I did not move fast enough. His open palm collided with my face. I fell to the ground, limp, like a rag doll. I lay there on the cold black tiles for a moment in shock. Was this really happening? I picked myself up and off of the ground. I studied Lex for a moment. I saw none of the remorse that I had expected. Turning, I fled, my heels clicking on the tile floor.
I should have expected no less of a demon.
***
SAMARA:
Surrounded by the flames of five large black taper candles, I used my athame dagger to begin to build the protective circle, using the shiny silver blade to draw out a pentacle on the floor. It was around four feet, so large enough to sit within safely. The candles stood at the points where the five-pointed star intersected with the circle. The lines of the pentacle glowed silver. I whispered the proper prayers to the elements, asking for their protection.
My face was still sore from when Lex had hit me. When I had looked in the mirror, I had found that my cheek was bright red, and beginning to take on a purple hue. I felt betrayed and deceived. To Lex, I was evidently some type of pawn to be used for some hidden purpose. I wondered if it had always been so. Our two years of being a couple seemed suddenly a lie.
Finishing the protective circle, I sat down within it, my legs folded in lotus position, and my back straight. My tools were all neatly laid out before me upon my altar—incense, salt, wine, bread. I lit a stick of wormwood incense, letting the sweet, apricot-like scent wash over me. I sprinkled salt around the edge of the circle to strengthen it. I closed my eyes, beginning to chant my spell aloud. I let my powers flow out of me, creating a path for the Dead that I summoned. I felt the door between life and death open and the spirit that I summoned begin to make the crossing. As the spirit entered the material plane, an ice-cold breeze swept through the darkened, candle-lit room.
I opened my eyes. Before me stood the spirit of my mother. She appeared as not much more than a pale contour drawing, her dark hair long and loose about her shoulders, and the sockets of her eyes empty. I could see her bones that had been hidden by flesh in life, just beneath her surface, and I could see her heart beating, a glowing gold pulsation within her chest. She wore the a little clothing; a long, flowing white dress and a flower crown made of white-petaled, yellow centered feverfew upon her head. In Death, my mother wore the funerary garb of a High Priestess.
“Hail the glorious Dead,” I intoned, lending my mother enough of my power in order to give her strength on the material plane. For a lesser practitioner, this would be difficult, but I was from a long lineage of strong witches. I had been able to summon the Dead since I was a small child. This was but a fraction of what I could do. “Mother, I need your help.”
“I am aware, my child.” She sighed deeply, dry rattling in her chest. “Your demon. I warned you to beware of demon-kind.” I bowed my head. I should have listened to one who had been a clairvoyant. I felt, honestly, stupid. My mother knew. She gave me a knowing half-smile, and waited for me to speak, as was her habit. It was comforting to know that Death had not changed her much.
“What is he planning?” I asked at last.
“He has been courting you in order to gain access to your powers as a Necromancer,” my mother said. “He seeks to use your powers to raise an army of the Dead.”
My heart sunk within me. How could I have not seen?
“Why?” I said.
“He seeks to create a new world order, where the supernatural rule the world.” She paused. “He wishes to rule over both the Living and the Dead. He wishes to bring all of the Dead back, to keep them here as his slaves for all of eternity, that he be king over all.”
“What should I do?” I asked in anguish. “Will the Warden help me?”
“This he cannot do. The Warden’s domain is Death. There he must remain. It is your duty to prevent the demon-shifter from entering that domain.” My mother paused again, then said, “You must leave this city. Seek the leader of our coven. She will hide you until you are prepared to battle the demon.”
“What do I need, mother?”
“To imprison a demon, you must have the answer:
What is given and what is taken.
There at your first breath,
Neither asked, only given, but follows unto Death.”
I nodded. The Dead were rarely direct, even my mother, who had been the leader of our coven, and had been rather forthcoming when alive. She stood before me, her form flickering like the lights of the candles. I wanted, more than anything, to keep her with me. But there was no need to do that, except for my own comfort.
“Thank you, mother,” I said gratefully. “I give you these offerings in thanks for your sacrifice.” I held up my offerings, a bowl of white wine and a crust of bread, crumbling the bread and letting it fall to the floor, and then pouring out the wine. It steamed a bit as it was consumed by the energy that was in the room. I held up my hand.
“I now release you
,” I said. I closed my eyes and let my power flow out of my body, lending her the strength in order to walk the path back to the domain of the Dead, and then closing the door behind her. The room immediately began to rise in temperature. I rubbed my hands together, trying to generate some kind of warmth. I felt as though all of my extremities were frozen solid from the cold and sitting still for what felt like ages. My heart was pounding wildly, the sound of my pulse loud and insistent in my ears.
I looked around my apartment. It was obvious that a witch lived here. The room was simple in decoration, with honey-toned wood floors and white walls. Various dried herbs hung from the ceiling, and along the walls were large wooden shelves, stocked with books and lined with bottles of differing sizes and filled with tinctures and essential oils. It was fragrant, redolent of paper, ink, and the dried herbs. I sighed. This was the only place that I felt secure. It was my own. It was the reason why I had not moved into the luxury and excess of Lex’s penthouse. He had been offering, more and more insistently, and now I knew why, thanks to my mother. He wanted to possess me. He wanted to use me.