“Yes, but I’m not helpless now.”
“And what do you want to do? Rescue one of our number, and undo the damage you accidentally did If you were merely power-hungry, you wouldn't care who got hurt.”
“With great power comes great responsibility,” Sybil quoted. “That doesn't just apply to Spiderman.”
Kadar laughed. “You quote poetry. You get your wisdom from comic books. And you wonder why I trust you?”
“You do?” A smile lit her face.
“And I know another guardian who trusts you, too. If you're ready to go after him, get on.” The dragon crouched.
Sybil climbed into position and leaned close to his long neck. “I’m ready.”
The rush of air and the rhythmic pumping of wings obliterated any other sound.
Kadar flew high and fast toward a ripple in the landscape she could feel before she could see it. It felt cold and wrong and horribly familiar. Demon language whispered in her head and power beat in her veins.
“That’s the gate I opened, isn't it?”
“Yes.” Kadar dove, bringing them right to the edge of it. '“I can’t go through. None of us can. Except you. You hold demon magic, so the shadow realms are open to you.”
“Abaran is in the shadow realms?” Her mouth went dry and metallic with fear.
“He can be nowhere else, if he was on this side, of the gate, we would have found him already.”
Of course. Abaran was a demon; if he'd been taken, he would have been taken where he couldn't be rescued. But she could follow him she drew a shaky breath and slid of Kadar’s back before she had time to think about what she was doing. If she thought too much about it, she might faint or run away. “Good thing I've been practicing.”
Kadar lowered his head and touched his muzzle to her hair. “Come back to us and bring our brother with you.”
“I'll do my best.” Sybil hugged the dragon’s neck, then turned to face the gate. How did it work? The answer was inside her. She sifted through the book inside her mind, commanding it to give her the spell. The mark of the goddess heated as she bent demon magic to her will. Her hair stirred as heat rose and created a wind. She said the right word as she stepped into nothingness.
It felt like falling, except for the absolute lack of sensory feedback, No light or sound, no sense of her own body's weight, or position. The sensory deprivation distorted her perception of time. She might have been on the other side for a few seconds, or much longer.
I went to go back. The panicked thought made something pulse inside her. Ironically, the inner stirring of demon magic calmed her. If she could feel that, she was real, and if she was really here, she had to find Abaran. He'd be looking for hi opportunity. What had he said about falling into enemy hands? That he'd use whatever techniques, tactics, and weapons he had. Do whatever offered the greater chance of success and survival.
He'd be ready. So she just had to find him. They'd handle the rest together.
But how to find anything in this place that was no place? She felt starved tor the world of sight and sound, where she was solid and she could touch and be touched. She hungered for it, and the dark magic inside her hungered, too.
Was that all this place was? A place of hunger that could never be satisfied? A prison, where the absence of everything was the ultimate torment? The thought would have made her shudder if she'd felt real enough to have a physical reaction.
But she could feel the tattoo over her heart. She could feel power coursing like molten lava in her veins. Magic was real here. And Abaran's magic resonated like hers.
She pictured tendrils of power snaking out from her, searching the darkness.
Somewhere there was a lover, a friend, a partner. If this was a place of unsatisfied desires, maybe she could use that. She needed Abaran.
She needed him, and she sought him with hungry power. Finally she felt him, but couldn't reach him. Sybil probed at the distance that separated them with her magic, stymied. If distance wasn't real here, what kept them apart?
Nothing.
Abaran, she thought. She infused the flame with everything she knew of him and the space of all the things she didn't. The mystery of him was as much a part of him as anything she could touch.
Leave me, he answered.
The words filled her head. She would have shaken it in response, but gestures like that had no meaning in this place. No. I won't. I want you.
You shouldn't have come here.
But I have. Now let's get out of this place.
She felt his power meld with hers. That was good. Magical contact could be trusted even if nothing else could be. The words she needed formed in her head like letters written in fire. The mark she wore and Kadar's necklace seared her skin as she used the spell to pull both of them to the edge of nothing and out the other side. They erupted into the world of matter and staggered under the weight of it.
“I just twisted my ankle, and it feels so good, I could cry.” Sybil panted. Good pain.
Welcome pain. Pain was real, and it meant she was, too.
“How did you do that?” Abaran twisted to stare at her in disbelief “What, my ankle? I landed wrong. Considering that was my first trip through a gate, I think I got off light.” Sybil reached down to rub the throbbing joint.
“How did you find me? How did you free me?”
She shrugged. “I wanted you, and when I found you, I grabbed on I couldn't at first, so I sort of, I dunno, thought about you. Your name what you were, what I knew, what I could guess, and what I couldn't even begin to guess. And then I had you.
Despite your trying to be noble. 'Leave me',” she mimicked, shooting him a glare, like I would leave you to starve forever in that place.”
“You summoned me.” He looked appalled. “That shouldn't be possible.”
“Why? Aren't you a demon?”
“I'm no longer a demon. I'm Inanna's.”
“Let's worry about that later.” Sybil rubbed her arms. “Do you have any idea how to close this gate?”
“No, but while you're trying to find the user's manual, I'll deal with that.” Abaran motioned toward the dark swarm materializing almost on top of them. Sybil shrieked and jumped back. Her ankle shrieked louder but held.
She closed her eyes, since the sight of oncoming death was distracting. Besides, she couldn't actually die, right? “We live through this and the good guys win,” she muttered, hoping it was true. Then she looked for the key inside her. If the gate opened with a demon spell, another should close it. Or maybe not another; maybe the first spell worked two ways? The difference between open and shut was a swing of the hinge a click of the latch.
Words and magic boiled up. She chanted them and prayed that she wasn't wrong, that she wasn't compounding their problems by opening another gate.
The spell consumed her, and when she gave breath and power to the final syllable, it ended and she collapsed onto the ground.
She opened her eyes and found Abaran busily fighting three demons. Moments Later their forms lay still on the ground, then evaporated while she watched. “That's just creepy.”
“Sybil.” He wrapped his arms around her and then she felt his head jerk up. He swore and before she could react, leathery wings cocooned her in safety. “Missed a few.”
Something struck them. Make that somethings, she realized as his words sank in.
More demons. Stragglers left on this side when she closed the gate.
“Abaran, let go! You’re leaving yourself vulnerable!”
“Hush.” She felt his tattoo heat and pulse. Power went out in a shockwave. Then he opened his wings and she blinked at the dark forms on the ground.
“It's like pouring salt on slugs,” she muttered. Her hands clung to Abaran's waist while she stared at the dissolving demons.
“Don't watch if it bothers you.”
“I can't help it.” Then she burrowed into his chest and him hard. “Idiot demon, trying to protect me. What if they'd hurt you?”
/> “Not possible,” Abaran pointed out as he hugged her back. His arms were gentle and careful as they enclosed her. “I'm immortal.”
“Yeah, yeah, you're Superman.” She breathed him in and rubbed her cheek against the leathery skin that was uniquely his. “I'll remember that the next time you're trapped in the shadow realms and need somebody to rescue your ass.”
“Mock me again and I’ll have to punish you, witch.”
“Promise?” She rubbed her body against his, giddy with relief and the sheer delight of physical contact after the voracious emptiness that had swallowed them both. Just the memory of it made her feel starved for sensation. She sobered as she realized Abaran had been trapped there much longer than she had. How worse had it been for him?
His erection jutted out as if in answer, thick and hard.
Lust flared between them, mixed with the need for comfort and connection, for physical assurance that they were safe and whole. Her nipples pebbled in reaction “You just want to do it, right here, right now?”
“Right here. Right now, Hard and fast and rough.” He stripped her to the waist in one rapid jerk, baring her breasts. Then he yanked her pants down past her hips and made a low sound of approval at the sight of her pubic curls. “No underwear. Good.”
He crouched in front of her and pushed her legs apart. Sybil steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders, and closed her eyes as he dragged his tongue along her folds. She could feel the-heat of his breath, the fierce pressure of his lips as he licked and suckled her sex, making her ready for what he needed. When he tongued hungrily into sheath, she dropped her head back and groaned in pleasure.
The urgency in his mouth, the hard pressure of his fingers as he gripped her bare ass in both hands and held her where he wanted her made liquid heat curl through her.
“Abaran”
He licked deeper inside her. Her sex pulsed in response. Just when she realized she really would come first if he kept going a little longer, he stopped, grabbed her waist, and pulled her to the ground. She was on her back and he was over her, between her thighs, his legs holding hers pinned flat as his cock surged into her.
“So wet and ready.” He pushed deeper, his angled shaft finding a spot that made her senses sing. It was fast and rough and if didn't last long, but she was already coming when he began to pump jet after jet of heated liquid into her womb. He kept thrusting into her after he'd spent himself, pulling out after he made her come a second time only to roll her onto her knees and position himself behind her.
He entered her again in a slow, steady movement, until he filled her sheath and her sensitized tissues felt stretched to capacity.
She moved with her demon lover and savored the slide of needy flesh into flesh, glad that he wanted to sate himself with her. The wicked angle of his penis delighted her and his open lust stirred hers into something more urgent than willing accommodation. “Harder,” she murmured, her hips working in restless eagerness with his rhythm.
“Gladly.” Abaran's strokes quickened. His breathing sped up to keep pace. So did hers. His hand came around to cup her mound. His fingertips pressed against her clit as he gave a final series of thrusts that sent them both over the edge.
They rested together in a sweet-dampened heap. Abaran made no move to withdraw from her. Instead, he caressed her sex and kissed the back of her neck as they cuddled in a postcoital lassitude.
“Finished?”
The hard edge to Kenric's voice made her scowl as she raised her head. She refused to move away as if she had something to be ashamed of. Instead, she pressed back against Abaran and rocked her hips to goad him. “Why? Did you want to join in?”
“I wasn't talking to you.”
Her brows shot up. Abaran stilled and she heard the whisper of wings as they unfurled “I don't like your tone.”
“I don't like finding you screwing your way to oblivion while the witch blinds you to what's happening.”
“And what is happening?” Abaran withdrew and stood, lifting her as they rose together so that his arms supported her and kept her close.
“You’ve fallen under her power. She's using you.”
Sybil gaped. “Paranoid much? I know you have a thing about witches, but maybe you didn't notice I just rescued him when you couldn't.”
Kenric's jaw tightened. “I noticed that traveling the shadow realm and summoning a demon came easily to you.”
“You're saying it was too easy, so I must have cheated?” Sybil realized her fingers were digging into Abaran's forearm hard enough to hurt even his leathery hide and forced herself to relax her grip. “It couldn't possibly be because I'm good for something besides a wild time in the sack?”
“Sybil.” Abaran's voice earned a low warning.
She looked down to make sure she wasn't floating. No. Feet firmly on the ground, and no phantom flames, either. She was getting it under control, she really was. Even though she was so furious she was almost shaking. “I'm okay.” She looked At Abaran and was startled by the cold, faraway look in his eye.
“It was too easy.” Abaran’s sober eyes regarded her in silence while a cold chill crept over her.
'Don't tell me you're getting as paranoid as the wolf. You were there. It was horrible and scary and after we got out, you had to fight the demons that were on this side while I figured out how to close the gate. Was that easy?” Disbelief made her voice rise.
“It was too easy.” Abaran's sober eyes regarded her in silence while a cold chill crept, over her.
“You're serious.”
He nodded.
“Hell.” Sybil bent, found her scattered clothes, and dressed in record time. “Okay, now what?”
The question wasn't addressed specifically to either man, but it still surprised her when Kenric answered.
“Now we destroy your coven before you join with them and hand Abaran over to them.”
Before she could process that, let alone respond, Kenric aimed a waive of power toward her. It washed over her and carried everything away.
Nineteen
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Sybil cursed silently while she struggled to orient herself.
Stupid not to see it coming. Stupid not to defend herself. Stupid to feel like crying because a werewolf didn’t trust her and never would.
Under the roiling emotions, though, came a sense of wrongness that grew sharper as she found it impossible to determine where she was. If Kenric had knocked her on her ass, was she sprawled on the ground? Upright? It shouldn’t have been hard to figure out. But it was.
A horrible possibility dawned. What if nothing since entering the gate had really happened? What if everything else was just made of shadows?
Abaran. She thought his name and filled it with intent, feeling for him. There. The unmistakable signature of her own strange power mingled with, his, the result of her attempt to burn off the excess and reinforce his protection. If she ever got out of here, she needed to thank Adrian for suggesting she aim it at something outside his house.
I told you it was too easy.
He'd said that to her right before Kenric struck her down.
So that really happened?
Yes and no, he replied. You found me, but the rest of it? Battling shadows. It was an illusion.
Well. That sucks. Sybil would’ve kicked something, but lacked a solid target.
Yes, is does. Abaran's complete agreement came through clearly in his mental tone.
So where was the real exit? What was the key?
“You know the answer,” a low female voice replied. The voice sounded like hers, but oddly distorted like hearing herself on a recorded message. Sybil blinked as mirror image of herself strode toward her out of the mist. Except she'd never looked that confident or together in her life. Or that dangerous. Shadow Sybil had eyes that burned with cold fire and a presence that crackled with power.
“Who are you?”
“Your shadow.”
Right. Her shadow self. Sybil dug into
her mind frantically tor some scrape of knowledge that might prove useful. She focused all her energy on tapping into the deepest recesses of her magical reserves. What was the shadow? Something to do with choices. The opposite created by decisions taken or not taken. “So, what, I'm supposed to do battle with my own shadow?”
“Or you could just let me win.” Shadow Sybil smiled coldly and raised upturned palms that crackled with blue flame.
She was her own worst enemy. Sybil fought the urge to laugh and dodged instead as a fireball shot toward her. “Missed me.”
“That was a warning shot.” Her shadow self moved closer, bathed in flame from head to toe.
“Maybe. Or maybe I'm faster.” Sybil danced back and set her own power free. It was easier here. The demon magic inside her was very much at home in this realm. But she didn't return the strike. Engaging in direct combat might not be the smart thing to do. If she battled her own shadow, would she destroy a part of herself?
If the shadow was the person she'd chosen not to be, did that make it good, bad, or a mix? All bad implied that she'd, always made the right choices.
“You’re my psychic twin,” Sybil stated, stalling for time while she thought furiously.
“You wish you looked as good as me.” Her shadow curled a contemptuous lip.
“Well, obviously you reflect my choice to spend more time living and less time in front of the mirror.” Sybil cocked her head. “I think I made the right call.”
“You also chose to be weak.”
“Then why don’t you stop me?” Her shadow swept closer and Sybil shifted away.
“Maybe shopping you isn't the right choice.” It was then that the knowledge bubbled up in her consciousness. Since she couldn't destroy her shadow self, she had to embrace it and make herself whole.
“Whatever choice you make, I'll oppose.”
“For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction,” Sybil agreed.
“You choose delaying tactics. I choose a strong offense.”
Her shadow attacked a third time. This time, instead of blocking or evading, Sybil moved into the attack and flung her arms around her shadow opponent.
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