Bound by Darkness

by Annette McCleave

  Brian stared at the younger Gatherer. “You okay?”

  “It’s another damned headache.”

  Brian patted him on the shoulder.

  Again with the sympathy. Lena dug the toe of her boot into the sand. Did he really need to be so concerned about everyone? Did he need to make her last moments with him so utterly regrettable? Once she found the coins, it would all be over. One way or another. She’d have to pull out all the stops in a last-ditch attempt to break free. But stabbing Brian in the back would be a lot easier if he’d behave like a cad.

  “Lena?”

  Her gaze swung up to Brian’s face, memorizing it. Strong, sure, handsome. If things had been different ...

  “Want to give us a hand?”

  She nodded. Of course. He trusted her to help. He thought he knew her; he thought those sweet moments of intimacy back in the hotel room could mean something profound. He didn’t know the extent of her secrets or just how many moments from her past she regretted.

  Unable to continue meeting Brian’s gaze, she glanced away.

  Straight into the steady, thoughtful eyes of Archangel Uriel.

  15

  They had just begun to tear the inside door panels out of the four-by-four when the desert air around them grew oddly tight and expectant. Anticipating an electric spark—and completely prepared for it to be red—Brian was surprised when Emily popped into the narrow space between Carlos and the car.

  With just a tiny stirring of sand and a blink of light.

  Lena, who was standing next to Carlos at the time, stumbled and fell to her ass in the dirt. Carlos didn’t bat an eye. If Brian didn’t know how unpredictable Emily was, he’d have sworn the younger Gatherer knew she was coming.

  “Emily, what the heck are you doing here?” Brian demanded, more tired than annoyed. He sheathed his sword and offered Lena a hand to help her up. A hand she refused. She scrambled to her feet and dusted off her ass, all without looking at him.

  “I needed to be doing something useful.” The teen wrapped an arm around her boyfriend’s slim waist and returned Brian’s stare, defiant. “And Murdoch’s being an asshole. He’s got me chained to the ranch house.”

  “I don’t care if Murdoch’s being an asshole. You’re supposed to be training, not hopping around the globe. If Lachlan knew—”

  “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

  He didn’t answer. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what his answer would be. “Get on the phone right now and tell Murdoch where you are. The last thing I need is him tearing up San Jose looking for you.”

  Shrugging, she tugged her phone out of her pocket and started texting. “What are you guys doing, anyway?”

  “Hunting for coins,” Carlos told her. The gray pallor of his face had receded, but a slight emptiness remained in his eyes. “Wanna help?”

  “Sure.”

  “Uh, no.” Brian remembered the last time Emily helped with the coins. “Let’s leave Em out of this, shall we? You and Lena search the door panels and the floorboards, as you planned. I’ll look in the spare tire.”

  “Waste of time,” Emily pronounced, tucking her phone back in her pocket.

  “What is?”

  “Looking in the doors, the floor, or the tire.”

  With a sense of impending doom, Brian asked, “Why?”

  “Because they’re not there.” She sent him a smug grin. “Want to know where they are?”

  Brian flashed Uriel a look that he hoped said, You guys created this monster; can’t you do anything? The archangel merely shrugged, offering no help at all.

  “I’m not convinced you know where they are,” Brian said. “You couldn’t find them last time.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s mean.”

  He waited.

  “Last time I messed up because I wasn’t used to the gross way they feel,” she said. “Black and slimy, like rotting ooze. Now I’m okay with it.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Well, there are two in the sun visors,” she confirmed, pointing a finger. “And a bunch more sewed into the bottom of the seats.”

  Lena fumbled the crowbar, almost dropping it. Brian frowned at her.

  “Each coin is in a little plastic bag,” Em continued. “Those ones you pinch closed.”

  “How do you know that?”

  She shrugged. “I dunno. It’s like they know and they tell me.”

  “By they you mean the coins?”

  She nodded.

  Christ, Em’s abilities had a creepy edge to them. Talking to evil coins, popping across continents in a heartbeat. He didn’t even know she could do that. Though why an ability to teleport should surprise him was anybody’s guess, since he hadn’t a clue how she brought Carlos back to life, either.

  Of course, his shock didn’t compare to Lena’s. She kept staring at Em like the girl had grown horns. Maybe he should have warned her. But talking about the Trinity Soul and all the mystical baggage that went with the role was never easy. How did you explain to someone—even a fellow immortal—that God had summoned the kid into existence and given her a set of powers that were supposed to save the world?

  “Okay,” he said to Carlos and Lena with a heavy sigh. “Go to town on the seats and the sun visors.”

  Lena’s gaze finally swung to him. Considering Emily had just located the coins they’d been chasing for days, she didn’t seem very happy. Those little creases between her eyes said she was downright unhappy, actually. “And if they’re not there?”

  Brian had no doubt that the coins were exactly where Em said they’d be, but he could understand Lena’s lack of faith. She’d never seen the kid in action.

  “Then we’ll take apart the car bolt by bolt.”

  Stepping into the room, Malumos got his first taste of foreboding. If he needed a reminder that he was no longer dealing with a grunting, sweating beast lord, this majestic demesne provided it. Everything was white and glass and silver. Everything sparkled.

  It was hard to imagine any other place looking less like hell than Lucifer’s pristine abode.

  The archdemon was draped across his glass throne, his black wings loosely spread, his crimson robes a glorious contrast to his white-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. With a sardonic smile, he raised a lean hand and waved Malumos closer.

  “I trust you’ll not make me regret this obvious breach in protocol?”

  Malumos sailed across the marble floor, bemused by the brilliant hue his blue smoke assumed in the dazzling light of the Cloud Castle. “I believe what I offer will benefit us both, my lord.”

  “Then, by all means, speak.”

  “You are aware that my lord Beelzebub is engaged in retrieving the Judas coins from the middle plane,” Malumos began.

  Lucifer quirked a brow. “Indeed, I am. I’m even aware that less than an hour ago, Uriel and four of his warriors handed you your ass on a platter.”

  Malumos fought to contain his anger.

  The courier, Tariq Nasser, had proven to be most unpleasant. Not only had he enjoyed amazing luck in avoiding both fireballs and will-sapping smoke, he’d actually dared to keep the location of the coins a secret, even in the face of certain death. As it was, he and his brothers had still been in the desert when the angels arrived, and Malumos had been forced to end the game with a bullet to Tariq’s head. This conversation would have gone much smoother had Malumos been able to offer up the coins, but all was not lost.

  “A temporary delay,” he said. “Not that my failure to retrieve the coins should bother you.”

  The archdemon narrowed his eyes.

  “If I never return with the coins,” Malumos continued, pleased that he’d successfully captured the notorious fallen angel’s attention—he was well aware of the bitter, age-old rivalry that existed between the two demon lords, “Beelzebub will be duly punished, and you’ll take his place at the right hand of the Great Lord.”

  “But as a whole, that would not serve demonkind well,
” Lucifer pointed out. “Our goal is to amass all of the Ignobles.”

  Malumos bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Agreed. Which is why I and my brothers will continue to do everything possible to acquire the remaining coins. But they need not find their way into Beelzebub’s hands.”

  A faint smile curved Lucifer’s lips. “You have a proposition.”

  “We do. We will deliver the coins to you,” Malumos offered smoothly, “in exchange for a shard of the Shattered Halo.”

  “What?” The archdemon leapt to his feet and down the three steps in a single fluid motion. His beautiful face, cold and hard, came within a hairbreadth of Malumos’s nose. “You dare to request a piece of my halo? You, a lowly thrall?”

  It was very difficult to hold his ground. But Malumos knew that to back away was to lose. And he’d come too far down this path to lose now. A thousand years of plotting and planning and hunting. “My brother Maleficus believes he can harness the power within the shard and turn it upon the angels.”

  Lucifer laughed, a mellifluous tumble of dangerous notes. “That story is nothing but an old wives’ tale. The legendary power of the Shattered Halo has never been channeled. Not once since the first angel fell.”

  “Because no one knew the proper spell.”

  Lucifer stepped back, amused. “And you claim to have that spell?”

  Were it not for his faith in his brother, Malumos might have wavered in the face of such disdain. But if there was one thing Maleficus excelled at, it was following the trail of black magic. The triplets’ advancement up the ranks of thralls could largely be attributed to Maleficus’s black arts. It was his efforts that had led them to Lena Sharpe and her delightful amulet.

  “It is documented in the Egyptian Book of Judgment,” he said with certainty. “Which my brothers and I now possess.”

  Lucifer folded his arms. The glossy black feathers of his wings rustled, then settled. “If your theory should prove true, and you succeed in leveraging the power of the shard, what is your intent?”

  “To best the angels, of course.”

  “Of course.” The archdemon shook his head. “But I mean here in hell. What favor do you hope your efforts will grant you?”

  Malumos smiled. “An opportunity to rise up the ladder, my lord. To gain a nobler status than lowly thrall. We seek an audience with the Great Lord himself.”

  “No one speaks with Satan save the archdemons.”

  “I’m aware of that.” Malumos’s smile deepened. “But surely for the honor of possessing such a magnificent weapon, you would be willing to bend the rules?”

  Lena cut the seam on the leather visor with her penknife and dug her fingers into the stuffing. Sure enough, she found a small plastic bag containing something hard and circular. A discovery worthy of applause, except Emily had just complicated an otherwise unobtrusive theft.

  “If Emily can pass through the barriers like you say she can,” she said quietly to Carlos, who was slicing open the driver’s seat, “then why wasn’t there an electrical charge when she showed up? There are always sparks when an entity crosses.”

  Carlos yanked the leather up, exposing the seat cushion and five plastic bags. “Not sure. But the barriers don’t seem to exist for Em. She passes through like they’re not there. Stefan said it’s because the barriers are walls God set up to keep both sides true to the Covenant, but that he never intended them to stop the Trinity Soul.”

  As nonchalantly as she could, Lena scooped up Carlos’s coins. The hard part wouldn’t be collecting them—it would be swapping them for the fakes in her puzzle box. The ones carefully wrapped in velvet so they didn’t make too much noise. “What exactly is the Trinity Soul?”

  “According to some ancient book Lachlan found, she’s God’s ambassador.” He tackled the passenger seat.

  Six more coins. “What does that mean?”

  Carlos looked up. “She’s supposed to have some important role in derailing Satan’s plan to overthrow God. We’re not exactly sure what, yet.”

  “She’s fifteen.”

  He glanced over at the helicopter, where Emily sat with the door open. “Age isn’t everything. What happens to you in life is a better gauge of what kind of person you’ll be than how many years you’ve got under your belt. Take my word for it. Emily has depths you can’t see.”

  “But she—”

  The Horus amulet at her throat thrummed with sudden protest. Lena responded instinctively.

  “Raise a shield,” she barked at Carlos.

  Before she had a chance to say more, red sparks lit up the sky and two of the dead arms dealers in the camp behind them surged to their feet. In an incredible display of manipulation, the thralls broke into a smooth run, traversing the dunes in record time, each tossing fireballs. A third man, swathed in the voluminous garb of a desert nomad, rode in from the west on a galloping horse.

  Lena murmured the necessary words to raise her own shield.

  Carlos and Brian whipped out their swords and began parrying. Uriel placed his hands palm-to-palm and began to call small bolts of white lightning from the sky.

  Lena’s shield took three heavy blows in the space of a few seconds, and she dodged around the Land Cruiser’s hood to avoid a fourth potentially fatal hit. Using the open truck door as extra protection, she lobbed a few basic spells in the direction of the thralls—blind, choke, and chill. They were unlikely to pierce the thralls’ powerful shields, but they might prove distracting. Lena ducked around the door to get a better view, then glanced inside the vehicle. Six coins still lay on the exposed passenger seat, temporarily forgotten. The timing was poor, but the opportunity was real—after a brief hesitation, Lena used the cover of the battle to her advantage and made the swap.

  Then she gave her attention back to the battle.

  Standing at the junction of both attacks, Carlos took the brunt of the thralls’ fury. A fiery bomb slipped past his defenses and pummeled him in the chest. The young man stumbled, but only for an instant. A wave of intense heat poured out of him and blasted through the air. He regained his balance, swinging with vigor.

  Lena’s unaugmented Gatherer shield took another hit.

  She wasn’t properly armed for this fight.

  Brian and Carlos, on the other hand, painted the ultimate picture of swordfighting mastery, deflecting firebombs and slicing through the demons’ shields with swift, agile swings. Problem was, the swords did little to cause the demons grief.

  The triplets synergized their shields, gaining superior protection, and pelted fireballs at their foes with wicked precision. Weapons that breached their defenses sliced into already dead flesh, not even hindering the demons with the slipperiness of spilled blood. Worse, the strong wind worked against the Gatherers, whipping tendrils of blue smoke in their direction—blue smoke that was almost impossible to see in the starless night. Hesitation and uncertainty began to take hold of them. Brian’s smooth footwork faltered and Carlos stumbled as he parried a lethal blow, a fireball searing his shield so severely that a handful of sparks penetrated the protective shroud and landed on the teen’s black trench coat.

  Another wave of dark, furious heat shot through the air.

  If it weren’t for Uriel’s angelic powers, Lena might have lost hope. He flung sizzling darts of white magic at the demons in rapid succession. Bolts that hit firebombs doused them into flat, gray ash, and those that hit the demons directly sliced through their shields like they weren’t there.

  But the thralls didn’t take well to his success. One of them, a heavyset fellow in a white tunic, suddenly pulled back from the trio. He held out both fists, side by side, and began muttering unfamiliar words in a low, even voice. Some kind of spell.

  And she didn’t need to be a seer to know that it meant bad news for Uriel.

  Lena’s hand instinctively went to the gold pendant around her neck. But almost as quickly, she released it.

  No. She couldn’t use the amulet.

  Its creator might have
intended it to have a higher purpose than object locator, but it was the tool of her trade, the key to her survival. Without it, she would have nothing. She had to trust in her spells. Not her weak Gatherer primals, but the ancient Egyptian spells her father had unwittingly taught her. The price of using them was steep, but the cost of losing this battle would be even higher.

  First, she needed a better shield.

  Ducking low behind the metal frame of the car, she closed her eyes and recited under her breath, “I call upon thee, Horus, son of Isis and Osiris, to protect me from the hands of evil. Keep me healthy in flesh and bones. Stand between me and any injury. Protect me from those demon curses that would cause my eyes not to see and my ears not to hear. Fill me with a strength that flourishes. Let me see these spirits as the Ba-less corpses they truly are. Grant me the power to break through the wards of evil and to deliver justice in the name of Amun-Ra”

  Immediately, the arc of protection around her gained new vitality, and Lena felt lighter and more agile. Some of the lightness could be attributed to the three inches of hair claimed by the god, but most was due to increased strength. She was also able to see the tendrils of midnight blue smoke that slithered forth on the night air, encircling the men—sinuous threads of demoralizing fear that constantly leached from the demons.

  That smoke had to go.

  Lena desperately racked her brain for a solution. To get rid of the smoke, she needed to change the direction of the wind. To change the direction of the wind, she had to...

  “Nepthys, goddess of the night, daughter of Nut, sister of Isis, wife of the great Set, I call upon thee. Deliver justice in the desert. Turn the wind upon those who would use it against us. Take their nefarious evil and scatter it upon the dunes. ”

  The wind abruptly ceased its easterly drift, causing a dust storm as it spun and swirled and changed direction. The new angle didn’t interrupt the battle or disorient the demons—they continued to hammer the Gatherers with increasingly powerful bombs—but it did redirect the smoke, blowing the creeping tentacles of dark blue mist out over the endless sea of sand.