“Wait.”
“What?”
“Are you happy? Does he make you happy?”
I couldn’t help the smile that lifted the corners of my mouth. “Yes. Yes, he does.”
He exhaled sharply. “Alara is a formidable djinn.”
“Yes. She is.”
He tucked in his chin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you needed.”
“Don’t be. Just be the man she needs.” This time I did walk away. Back to the kitchen. Back to my mate.
It was time to fuel up because in less than four hours we’d know whether our plan worked and there was no way Malachi would just sit back and take it. There would be hell to pay, and we needed to be ready.
16
An hour later, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Black slacks, black polo shirt, black boots and silver hair scraped back in a ponytail. I was dressed for battle. A battle I hope we’d succeeded in stopping.
Vritra cupped my shoulders. “Are you ready?”
I nodded. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”
We had only a couple of hours left till the eclipse. A text from Melody informed us that people had already begun to arrive at the stadium, eager to grab some food and listen to the live music. The fliers had done the trick and our plan was working. Malachi had to know. He had to realize we’d circumvented his sermon attempt, and when we summoned him, he was going to be pissed. Yeah, I was looking forward to seeing the defeat in his eyes when we stripped him of his vessel and locked him away for good. It would be a warning to the others who’d decided to join him—get packing or suffer the same fate.
I had a date with the witches. There was no way I was missing out on seeing the cosmic god’s face as he got shoved in a box.
Vritra strapped on his sword. It was the first time I’d seen him in this kind of get up—an asura warrior get up. His feet were encased in leather steel-capped boots, his body wrapped lovingly in black. His ember eyes flashed with intensity. He was ready for a fight, and as we strode from our room and down the corridor toward the lifts, the others joined us, connecting with us through our bond. We were all ready.
***
Mani and Laila commanded two teams of asura and they headed off to the Stadium to set up a perimeter with the IEPEU to protect the humans. Vritra and I took the limo to the Mayfair mansion, arriving a half hour before the ceremony.
As Elora’s butler showed us to the ritual room, my stomach was in knots and my palms clammy with anxiety. Garnet and Elora were standing in the center of the chamber and the rest of the witches were stationed on the raised platform that ran around the room.
“Carmella.” Elora strode toward me, her hands held out to greet me.
I met her halfway. “Are we good to go?”
She nodded jerkily. Her chilly fingers and white knuckled grip screamed fear. Garnet was as still as stone behind her. He was about to come face to face with the entity that had turned him into, what he believed to be, a monster.
“So, what will happen now?” Vritra asked.
Elora looked up at the glass domed ceiling. The world would soon be dark as the sun was blocked out.
“We wait till the moon begins to cover the sun,” Elora said, “and then we release the chant we have prepared.”
“The summons will draw him here,” Garnet said. He moved aside, and for the first time, I saw the intricate design etched into the wood. “We couldn’t risk chalk smudging or paint running,” Garnet explained. “This is the physical representation of his prison on this plain.”
I took a step closer, studying the whorls and lines of the cosmic god trap. “Once he’s here, that’s it?”
“No. The trap will hold him, but only for so long. We then have to bind him using the final chant.”
This was where they’d failed the last time, where Elora had decided to stop and make a deal. Her jaw tightened now as if recalling that very moment. Did she wonder how different things would be now if she’d made an alternate choice back then? Would I have been able to turn away from a chance to save Vritra? No.
“Can I help?” I stroked her upper arm. “Is there anything I can do?”
She smiled, but her eyes remained dull. “You just being here will lend us strength. It solidifies our connection to the skein should we need to tap into it.”
“Okay. Do what you have to do. Just get the fucker.”
Vritra and I retreated toward the exit, and then we waited. Long minutes ticked by punctuated by the shift and sigh of the witches on the raised edge that ran around the chamber. I noted black smudges under eyes, and hair in need of a good brushing. These women had worked their arses off to make this moment possible. It had to go right.
The door behind us opened and Drake entered.
“Carmella. You’re here.”
I shrugged. “I am the anchor. Thought it was probably a good idea to be present.”
Drake’s attention slid to Vritra and then back to me. He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m a friend of Carmella’s.”
The guys shook hands.
“Are you here to help?” Vritra asked.
Drake snorted. “I wish. Mayfair is matriarchal, so no dudes allowed when it comes to these kinds of things.”
“Garnet looks pretty dude-like to me,” Vritra said.
Drake smiled. “I guess you’re an exception if you’re an earth mage.”
The sky began to grow dark and, with a final look my way, Elora closed her eyes as the room erupted in a chant. The words were complex and alien—more guttural than the Theban language used by most witches in spells and incantations. So, this is what the original thirteen had done to get Malachi’s attention.
The room grew darker and the ground began to tremble. It was working. Whatever they were doing was working. Vritra took my hand in his huge one, reinforcing our ethereal connection with a physical one.
And then the air within the trap began to shimmer, an orb of crackling electricity popped into existence. It spun and stretched and grew and morphed until it was almost as large as the diameter of the trap. Garnet and Elora held fast, the words tumbling from their lips and then with a crackle that seared my eardrums, a twisting helix form appeared inside the trap.
My scalp prickled. Surely Malachi would have come dressed in Banner’s body? But the witches kept chanting, seemingly oblivious to the incongruity.
“Hello? What’s happening?”
That voice. I knew that voice. It was Yule. They had Yule in the trap.
“Wait. Stop that isn’t him. That’s not Malachi.”
The chant changed, rising in temp and switching to Theban. They were binding Yule. They had the wrong cosmic god.
“Stop, dammit!”
Elora opened her eyes and stared at the energy inside the trap.
“Please, what are you doing?” Yule said.
The chanting stopped and Elora and Garnet exchanged confused looks.
“It’s not him,” Elora said.
The room had fallen into complete silence.
“Oh, so this is what you did?” Yule said. “I’m so sorry.” And then her energy shattered, and Malachi stepped through her.
He stood inside the trap, hands clasped before him, expression serene.
“Chant!” Elora commanded.
The Theban chant kicked up again, frantic and desperate, but Malachi simply gazed out at them. His face, Mal Banner’s face was tranquil and unaffected. And then he looked right at me and smiled.
An icy fist clamped itself around my chest.
And then Malachi stepped out of the trap.
17
This couldn’t be happening. How could he be free? The binding chant died a second time, and Elora turned to me, hair flying, and her eyes wide with horrific revelation.
“Carmella, run!”
Vritra’s hand was torn from mine as he was sent hurtling across the room.
I couldn’t move.
Not a blink, not a sigh. I was trapped in Malac
hi’s gaze—completely and utterly in his power.
His host.
His vessel.
My bowels grew liquid, threatening to let up and vent, but he had me in his grip and he wasn’t allowing that. This was his body now, and he wanted it in pristine condition.
“Finally, we meet, daughter,” Malachi said. “You have your mother’s eyes. I did so enjoy looking into those eyes when I procreated with her. Such desire, such longing and passion. It was truly a marvel to witness and experience. And this body.” He caressed his chest. “It has given me much sensory pleasure, but the senses are dulling. I’m tiring of this temporary suit, and very much looking forward to donning a more permanent one.” His smile was soft and benevolent and totally at odds with the intention in his words.
I wanted to ask him how he was doing this. How was he withstanding the binding? But my mouth refused to obey my mind.
He cocked his head. “You wish to ask me something?”
Suddenly I was free—able to blink and move and speak. I took a step back.
“Try and run and I will take your will,” he warned. “I can do that you know? Because you belong to me now. In fact, you always have. The purpose of your existence is to be my vessel. A noble purpose indeed, and yet you run from it. I should have sensed you when I had you underground.” His brow crinkled. “What did you do to hide yourself from me?”
The tracker chip and the power damper must have hidden me from him and allowed me to resist him. Without it, I wasn’t strong enough to fight him.
“I suspected who you were after our second meeting in the darkness of your dreams,” he said. “I hoped you’d be here. I’m glad I decided to come.”
“How are you resisting the binding?”
His brows flicked up. “You really believe I wouldn’t have prepared for this eventuality. Your incantations and your spells have no power over me any longer. My cosmic structure has evolved beyond your comprehension. However, just to be sure, I sent Yule to test the limits of your little trap. There is nothing you can do to stop me.”
But we had. We’d stopped the broadcast. That nugget of knowledge was a kernel of warmth nestled inside me.
His eyes narrowed as he peered at me, and then he laughed. “Yes, that was well played.”
Had he read my mind?
“But the thing about football stadiums is that they have speakers, lots of speakers, and one huge screen.”
The screen had been dismantled—it was the first thing we’d done, but the speakers…I’d completely forgotten about the speakers.
“My message is not visual, Carmella. It is auditory. You may have closed humanity’s eyes, but can you turn off its hearing too?” He glanced up at the sky. It’s happening right now. This very moment. My message is being heard.” His chest rose and fell heavily. “I can feel them all, so many new connections.
“No.”
“Yes. And you will be the most important connection of all. My connection to this world and to the skein.” He glanced over his shoulder at Elora. “And to everyone connected to it through you.” He must have caught the alarm on my face because he reached out, his expression conciliatory. “Don’t worry, my child, I’ll allow you to witness my rise.”
His power slammed into my mind, no further warning, no brace yourself child. It dug in its claws and began to burrow. A scream bubbled up my throat. No! I wouldn’t let him have me, wouldn’t be a puppet. I wouldn’t.
A piercing battle cry shattered the connection, his claws scraped my mind as he was forcefully withdrawn. My eyes snapped open and I saw Velomina suspended in midair a foot above Malachi’s head. She kicked and screamed and reached for him, desperate to do some damage.
He studied her, head tipped back, as if examining a particularly interesting specimen of bug. “You were so beautiful, Velomina. I suspect you have a tale to tell. A journey you have taken?”
“Leave her alone,” Velomina hissed. “You leave my daughter the hell alone, you bastard.”
He sighed. “There is such hate in your eyes. I liked it better when you looked at me with love. Can you do that again?”
“Piss off!”
He was going to do something. The knowledge was a tickle at the back of my mind because although the claws had retreated he still had a hold of me. I was still in his grip. I needed to gather my power. My dragon flexed against the bindings Malachi had applied. I was screwed.
Please don’t fight, I wanted to say, but my lips were no longer mine.
“Look at your daughter, Velomina. Look at our daughter. Isn’t she perfect? Look what we created.” Malachi said. “Look at her while you can.”
He was going to hurt her. His intention was a beacon blaring in my mind.
As if sensing it too, Velomina went still, the fight drained out of her and she turned her head to look at me. “I love you, baby girl. So much.”
No. No please don’t hurt her. I’d only just got her back. I needed time. More time.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, Carmella. Some souls are beyond redemption.”
Her neck jerked and the light in her eyes died as if a switch had been flicked.
My scream was an impotent soundless wave battering the inside of my skull. Elora cried out, a single strangled sound, but didn’t move. They were immobilized, just like me.
I was alone.
And then the claws were back, digging in slow and at their leisure now, confident in their success. I needed… I needed something. Because my dragon was bound and the skein, it was so far away—out of reach and useless. I needed more power, but there was none. Please. It couldn’t end this way. From faraway a dragon roared. And then asura power was flooding into me, every signature of every asura. They answered my call. Flooding my veins, my body and my soul, and shoving with all their might. Malachi’s claws lost their grip and he cried out in alarm.
I opened my eyes and locked gazes with him. “This body is not up for grabs.” My voice was a low vibrating timbre, saturated with wrath.
Malachi took a step back, and I advanced. He’d killed my mother. He’d taken a part of me and I would rip out his soul. I advanced, not caring that this boost may not last, not caring that he could gain the upper hand at any moment. Vengeance reverberated inside my mind—a singular, powerful mantra that needed satisfaction.
“We’ll see how much power you have once this is over,” he said.
I lunged for him and met thin air.
He’d vanished.
My body continued to thrum with power for several seconds longer, and then it leeched away and my knees buckled. Vritra grabbed me before I could hit the ground.
“You’ll be all right,” he said.
They’d saved me. My connection to the asura had saved me, but now they needed saving. My gaze fell on Velomina’s silent unmoving from. Elora was on her knees, hands pressed to her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. My chest ached with the need to scream, but there was no time to grieve.
“We need to get to the stadium and we need to go right now.”
18
The phones lines were engaged—Melody’s, Kevin’s, Honey’s, everyone’s—all the lines were down. Communication was cut off. Malachi had done this. He’d found a way to sever us off from each other.
Drake’s car careened around a corner, tires kissing curb, and we caught our first glimpse of the stadium ahead. From this distance, it looked serene and innocuous and, for a moment, I contemplated the thought that maybe Malachi had lied.
But as we hurtled closer, weaving through what little traffic there was on the roads today, the unmistakable sound of his voice drifted on the wind and through the vents in the car.
“…surrender your burdens and be set free. Join in nirvana,” he said.
Cars ahead of us pulled over and people began to get out and walk. Their footsteps were slow and steady, heads tilted up and slightly to the side as if to better access the sound waves. They were gone. Completely mesmerized by his voice.
Shit
. He was reaching way beyond the stadium. How the fuck had he amplified the speakers? This was my fault. I should have thought of the risk. I’d seen what he’d achieved in the red zone. He’d used the speakers there to lure the yaksha to the park and then he’d recruited and exterminated the cast offs. We drove past a woman who was shaking her entranced, unresponsive husband, but the pull was too powerful, lending him strength as he ignored her plea’s and resisted her tugs. She was fighting Malachi’s suggestion while her partner, however, was completely lost.
Drake accelerated into the car park of the stadium and slammed on his brakes as we neared the entrance. With a screech and a swerve, we came to a halt. Other vehicles screamed to a stop behind us—the witches. I was already out of the car and sprinting toward the doors, Vritra at my side.
Malachi’s voice was everywhere. Like needles digging into my brain, like syrup pouring over my skin, he tried to invade and sooth at the same time. The urge to stop and listen was almost too strong, almost, but not quite. I could do this. He wasn’t getting in my head ever again.
We passed the rapt guy at reception and jumped the barrier that led to the stalls that rose up into the afternoon air. The sun was almost free of the moon. And Malachi’s voice died just as I emerged on the North Stand to stare down at the immobile mass on the green. The seats were empty. All the fun was on the ground. A stand had been set up for the live music. And food stalls had been erected on the east side. The smell of hotdogs, burgers and fried onions was heavy on the air. There’d been merriment here not long ago, and the echo of recent laughter resonated in the air. But right now, as the sun emerged, there was absolute pin-drop silence. My breath rasped in the cavernous quiet, and then with a reverberating sigh, the mass began to move. They lined up and began to file out toward the south stand. As the taken moved with steadfast deliberation, it was suddenly easy to spot the resisters—the men and women who grabbed at their family members, shouting in their ears and shaking them to no avail. A mass of IEPEU uniformed operatives were among the enraptured, and my stomach dropped. Our army had just dwindled. Where the heck was Melody? I caught a glimpse of her on the periphery of the mass tying to urge the unaffected to come with her. Urvashi was at her side, disheveled and pale with shock. Three more operatives were working the crowd with them. Honey was visible a little farther down with Victor. Mira was trying to usher a group of youths toward the exit. Marcus and his pack and were working the crowd to her left and Rohan and his yaksha were also trying to urge the humans toward the exit.
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