Waltz into Fire (The Sentinals Book 1)

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Waltz into Fire (The Sentinals Book 1) Page 25

by L. J. Garland


  A feral wail shoved its way from the darkest depths of her soul and erupted in a pitiful keening as she rocked the only man who’d believed in her, who’d stood by her, who’d loved her. And to save her, he’d left her.

  She couldn’t bear it.

  A shameful guilt raced through her, shuddering her body with a violent jolt.

  One more name on the list of people I’ve let down.

  Opening her eyes, she stared at his handsome face. She traced a fingertip along his eyebrow, down his cheek, and over his chin. Leaning forward, she whispered, “I love you,” and pressed her lips to his.

  But there was nothing in return. He was gone, suffering an endless torture beneath a demon’s relentless hand. All because she’d been stupid enough to believe the devil played fair.

  She stretched her legs out and rested his head on her lap while she stroked her fingers through his hair. As she straightened her knees, her left ankle popped, a sharp twinge bolting up her leg. A few moments later, the pressure beneath her skin from the swollen area receded.

  Her left shoulder itched, and she shrugged, bringing forth a sickening crack. But a second later, she could flex her fingers a bit. Her body was healing itself—faster than she’d ever known it to—and a wave of exhaustion swept over her.

  No! I can’t sleep. Not while Zane is suffering.

  When she opened her eyes, daylight had faded. The bedroom lay veiled in shadows. And Zane still lay, quiet and serene, on her lap.

  Her heart clenched, the unbearable ache returning with crushing force. How could she make this right again?

  Save him…. a raspy voice crooned.

  On the end of the dresser that remained intact, a flame burst to life on the tip of a tapered candle. Fallon gasped and clutched Zane in a vain attempt to protect him.

  Save him….

  On recognizing the voice, she took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. “H-how? Haileon’s already got Zane.”

  The flame danced, elongated, and twined upward, a blazing vine reaching for the rafters. A spark tweaked off the tip, arced through the room, and burst into a golden spray of glittering ash. Long, thin lines cascaded toward the floor, fiery threads dashing downward into nothingness.

  Nothing is lost, once it is found….

  Fallon frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Save him, Fallon…. He is waiting for you….

  “I don’t understand. How am I—”

  The candle snuffed out, dousing the room in shadows.

  Sadness coiled with frustration. “What the hell?”

  She eased Zane to the floor and staggered to her feet. Shuffling through the dark, she reached the dresser and leaned against it.

  “Come back,” she yelled at the candle. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to save him.”

  Nothing happened. No flame lit. No voice whispered to her. Maybe the whole damn thing was in her head. Maybe none of it was real.

  She peered down at Zane, who lay still on the floor, and an icy chill shuddered through her. No, everything was real. And even if the fire voice wouldn’t give her the answers, she knew she had to do something.

  Shuffling into the living room, she clicked on a lamp and then fell onto the couch. She reached for her cell phone and dialed the one person who could help her. After two rings, he answered.

  “Hey, Fallon,” Erik said. “Everything okay?”

  She bit her lip, fought to keep it together. “No.”

  His sigh came across the line. “I didn’t think so. Wyatt felt it, too, but said we should wait for you to call. He couldn’t explain why, though.”

  “Zane’s gone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Haileon showed up last night. Took his soul early.”

  “Damn it!” Something crashed in the background. “I knew it. I just…knew.”

  “Erik, I need—”

  “Don’t worry. Amber got here this morning. We’ll be to you by tomorrow morning, and—”

  “Erik, no. I need—”

  “What do you mean, no? We should be there with—”

  “Erik!” She could feel his frustration rolling through the phone, zipping across the airwaves, and crashing into her head. She forced a wall up in her mind, severing the connection.

  A sharp breath sounded across the line. “Whoa. What the hell was that?”

  “Listen.” She dug her fingernails into the cushion next to her, forcing herself to focus on the moment. “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.”

  “Email me the summoning spell.”

  “Wait—”

  “Erik.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Every second we argue is an eternity of suffering for Zane. Haileon is consuming his soul bit by bit, molecule by molecule, even as he tortures him. The bastard is shredding Zane’s soul and eating it, using it to repair himself so he can come back and kill us all.”

  “Oh, God—”

  “So email me the damn summoning spell, so I can try and save him.”

  “Don’t you want us there with you?”

  She shook her head. “There’s no time. It might already be too late. I passed out while my body healed itself, and the bastard might already be back at full strength. Send me the spell.”

  Wyatt’s voice came muffled in the background.

  “Just get up and let me at the computer,” Erik snapped.

  Wyatt grumbled something, and a moment later, distinctive clicking came across the line.

  “Okay,” Erik said. “Let me know if you got it.”

  “Hang on.” She lowered her phone, tapped the screen several times, and found the email he’d sent. Opening the message, she glanced at the contents and grimaced. “Got it.”

  “Wyatt’s worried.” He sighed. “I am, too. Any idea what you’re going to do?”

  “Save Zane. Or try to, anyway. But I have no clue how yet.”

  “We can be there tomorrow morning,” Wyatt said from the side.

  “Tell him it’ll be too late,” she said to Erik. “And tell him why.”

  “I will.”

  “And Erik?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Keep researching.” She took an unsteady breath. “If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow night, there’ll be two of us to save.”

  “Just call me.”

  “That’s the plan.” Without waiting for his response, she hung up.

  Shoving up from the couch, she discovered she could walk a little better than before. She strode to the kitchen window and stared out into the yard just as Zane had done yesterday. The night outside was peaceful. No one in the world out there knew of the horrors taking place inside her home.

  She sighed and looked at Erik’s email on her phone again. She scrolled through the words, the odd mix of sounds she’d spoken in the conservatory on the island replaying through her auditory memory. Yes, she could speak them again. And once she got Haileon here, then what?

  Her phone erupted with a tri-tone chime, indicating another email had arrived. She opened it.

  Hey, sis,

  We thought this might come in handy, too. We’ll keep researching here and will wait for your call. Be careful.

  Love,

  Erik, Amber & Wyatt

  Attached to the message was the drawing for the demon trap. Fallon nodded and sent a quick thank you in reply.

  She stared at the pentagram with its strange symbols and shapes. She didn’t have any chalk or any special potions, but she did have some paint out in the garage. Crossing to the door, her gait more even than before, she flipped on the light and spied the gallon can on a shelf with several paintbrushes sitting nearby.

  Well, she could get the bastard here, and she had a way to trap him. The trick would be convincing him to give up Zane’s soul.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Fallon straightened, stretched her back, and viewed her handiwork. Was it big enough? After changing clothes, she’d pushed the furniture aside and tore back the
carpeting, which now lay folded in the middle of the living room. On the plywood flooring below, she’d painted the demon trap. Grabbing her cell phone, she checked the drawing one last time to ensure she’d reconstructed it as close to identical as possible.

  She sighed. The painting was finished. It would have to do…or not. If things worked according to her wild-ass plan, at some point, she would have to enter the demon trap to free Zane, so the idea of an actual cage to keep her safe from Haileon was just a temporary measure. The unpredictable part would be figuring out how to open the razor-sharp plate armor without slicing her fingers off. She glanced at the crowbar that she’d used to loosen the carpet, leaning against the wall. Yeah, she would pry the breastplate off, scale by scale if it came down to it. But still, time would be limited—if there was any time at all. Could a demon even be incapacitated?

  She shook her head and focused on her goal—what laid beneath the armor. On their first encounter, Haileon had peeled back his hexagonal scales to reveal his symbol to her in a bold attempt to prove to her that Zane was one of his minions. She’d seen the swirling smoke and glittering pinpoints of light inside the translucent skin. At the time, she hadn’t realized what it meant, but now she understood the tiny glints of light were the souls he’d reaped and fed on. In his arrogance, he’d revealed his weakness, probably believing she would never figure it out or that she would never get close enough to take action.

  But she had a plan—a crazy scheme built on desperation to save the man she loved. And what would he think? She snorted. Yeah, he’d probably give her hell, but as long as he was giving it to her here, she didn’t care. Otherwise, she would be joining him in the belly of the beast, and then it wouldn’t matter.

  She unfurled the carpeting, tugging it flat over the floor and covering the pentagram. Would concealing the symbol change its effectiveness? She hoped not, or the whole shebang would spiral out of control real fast.

  The time of reckoning was near. Crossing to her bedroom, Fallon grabbed some clean clothes from the closet and changed. She entered the bathroom and pulled her hair back, fastening it in place at the nape of her neck. She didn’t want anything distracting her once she started.

  Leaning against the counter, she inhaled a deep breath. Is this the right thing to do? If I manage to destroy Haileon, will it free Zane or will he die with the demon? She shook her head. She didn’t know.

  Straightening, she blew out the breath she’d been holding and stared at herself in the mirror. Black cargo pants and a light-gray Nomex T-shirt. She looked as though she was going to work—and, in a way, she was.

  A sparkle caught her eye, and she peered down at her wrist. The bracelet her Aunt Serida had given her. The single ruby embedded in the chain glinted in the light. Was this what her aunt had warned her of in her letter? She’d said that with her passing, her protective magic would vanish, leaving her and her siblings exposed to all the demons and whatever else wanted to hunt them.

  “Please let this work,” she whispered to her image.

  She sighed and turned away, pausing in the bathroom doorway. One last thing before she started the ball rolling. She padded to the edge of the bed and eased down on the mattress next to where she’d struggled to move Zane. Getting him from the floor to the bed had been difficult but necessary to keep him safe. She reached out, smoothed the light quilt she’d covered him with then took his hand in hers.

  “I know you can’t hear me…or, at least, I don’t think you can. I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for coming into my life. I need you….” She scrubbed away the tear that trailed over her cheek. “I want our life together. The one we talked about before that bastard took you. I don’t know if I can do this without you, but I’m going to try.” She gritted her teeth and reached to brush aside a stray lock from his forehead. Leaning over, she kissed his lips. “I love you, Zane.”

  With a squeeze of his hand, she rose from the bed. She would sit here all night if she let herself, and each moment that passed was another eon of torture for him. She needed to get this done.

  On her way to the door, she paused and picked up the taper from the dresser. The flame wasn’t there, but having the candle near might lend her some confidence. Hell, it couldn’t hurt.

  In the living room, she lit the pillar candles on the mantel, the three tea lights on the side table, and placed the taper from the bedroom on the kitchen counter. Moving the lighter to the wick, she set the candle ablaze. But no raspy voice spoke to her.

  Fine. She would do this alone, then.

  Striding to the sink, she plugged the drain and twisted the faucet on full blast. She opened a nearby drawer and grabbed several dishtowels. Marching to the guest bathroom, she plugged the drain and turned on the water there as well. As a final measure, she picked up the wrench she’d left on the rear of the toilet earlier and unscrewed the freshwater hose. Icy liquid spilled onto the tiled floor and ran out into the foyer.

  She paused at the bedroom door for one last glance at Zane. God, he was so handsome lying there. His chest rose and fell with even breaths as though he were in a deep sleep. But she knew the truth, and her heart ached to free him. However, at the same time, her soul had strengthened somehow since she’d set her plan into motion.

  She strode back to the dining room, the soles of her boots slapping against the wet floor. Almost ready. Tugging her cell phone from her pocket, she pulled up the summoning spell Erik had sent her.

  “For Zane,” she whispered.

  Glancing down at the words on her cell, she took a deep breath and recited the first line. She spoke the syllables clearly and in a commanding voice. Though ice layered her stomach, she wouldn’t give way to her fear. She continued on, the foreign sounds rolling over her tongue, and she seemed to taste the potency of each one.

  The candles she’d lit brightened, their flames elongating—a sign that the summoning spell was delving into the netherworlds to draw the beast she called forth. A frigid wind rushed through the room, leaving chill bumps prickling her skin.

  Setting the cell phone on the dining table behind her, she held her arms out to her sides.

  Air breathes life.

  Fire dwells within.

  The creator must control.

  Point at the target.

  For Zane’s soul.

  Fire orbs erupted to life over her palms. She forced the final words from her lips.

  Haileon burst into the living room with a deafening roar. Cocking his head, he eyed her through slitted pupils. “Fallon.”

  Her name growled off his lips and sent terror hammering through her. She glanced to the soaked carpet where the demon trap lay hidden beneath. Why couldn’t he just land in the pentagram?

  He raised his hand, and the first wisp of pressure grazed her throat. Without hesitation, she hurled a fireball at him. The molten orb zinged across the room and impacted the demon in the shoulder.

  In a display of fearlessness that she didn’t feel, she took several steps toward the hulking demon and slammed the second orb against his chest. As a reward, three scales ripped free from his armor and streaked across the room, two embedding themselves in the wall, the third burying itself in a couch cushion.

  “Set Zane free,” she demanded. Inhaling, she produced two more fireballs over her palms. “Set him free, and I might let you live.”

  His alien eyes widened before he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, you have become bold, Sentinel.”

  “More than you can imagine,” she growled. “Now let him go.”

  He smiled, his needlelike teeth glinting as he flicked his black, forked tongue over the tips. “But why, Fallon? He is my soldier.”

  “Liar.”

  She strode forward, entering the demon trap, and cast one of the orbs at the bastard. He batted it away. She jolted then sent the second one beaming at his face. Haileon dodged, and the molten ball exploded above the fireplace.

  Gasping, she stumbled backward, igni
ting new fireballs above her palms. “Set him free now.”

  The demon moved toward her, his wet lids blinking over his dark eyes. “I’ve taken him, Fallon. And he has pleased me in so many, many ways. Oh, yes, he has whimpered with pleasure, begging me to take him again. To give him the release you never could. He loathes you, curses your name.”

  “Liar!” She inhaled, feeding her fear and anger into the orbs before launching one at his chest.

  Two more hexagonal scales shot off, one slicing her forearm. Fallon recoiled, losing the second fireball to the floor, where it dashed out in a sudden eruption of steam.

  “He’s my slave, my pet.” Haileon strode toward her, triumph gleaming in his hideous features. Twitching his wrist, he caught Fallon by the throat and lifted her into the air as he advanced. “My most pliant lover for all eterni—”

  A ring of fire erupted from the floor. Fallon tumbled to the soaked carpet and gasped for breath. The demon trap had sprung.

  The hulking fiend spun in a circle. “What is this?” he roared, his malevolent gaze landing on her. “You think this elementary trick will hold me?”

  Fallon hurled two more orbs at him and several more scales zinged through the living room, one breaking the glass pane in the back door. “Set Zane free.”

  “Release me, and I will.”

  “Your track record for telling the truth is for shit, so forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  His gaze shifted to the flames that danced around him, and then he glared at her. “Eventually, I will be free. And then I will take great pleasure in ripping the flesh from your body with my teeth.”

  Though the demon was bound, fear still twisted in Fallon’s gut, and doubt whispered in her mind. What if this didn’t work?

  Haileon jolted. He pivoted around again and set his gaze on her. “What is this you’re doing?”

  Fallon frowned. She hadn’t done anything yet.

  He jerked and twitched. “You must…stop.”

  His immense form shrunk in on itself. His mouth opened in an agonizing cry. Fallon stepped back. Did the demon trap do more than just cage the beast?

 

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