Darkness Savage (The Dark Cycle Book 3)

by Rachel A. Marks

  “You broke a window? Sid won’t care.”

  “I said I didn’t break the window, hon. Keep up. The reason I’m showing you is ’cause the way it broke freaked me the fuck out.”

  We’re all on edge, but this seems a little silly. “And how did it break?” I move to the window and see glass shards on the floor and on the sill.

  “Some book flew right through it.”

  I turn back to look at him. “A book?”

  He rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Okay, so, I was sleeping when this noise starts going nuts. Like rattling. It was pissing me off and keeping me awake, and when I followed the noise, I could tell it was in here.” He motions around the room. “You guys were gone, so I figured it wasn’t you and Kara, ya know, doin’ the horizontal hula.” He makes another kind of hand motion, and I give him a warning glare. “When I opened the door, the noise just stopped. And then, like, two seconds later, a book flew from under the bed and rocketed out the window.” He makes a crashing sound and motions with his hands like something is exploding between them.

  “A book came from under the bed and went through the window?”

  He gives me a look like I’m being clueless.

  There’s only one book I know of that might possibly fly away. I kneel down and look under the bed. I pull out my duffel and open it, taking out my sister’s bag of secrets, realizing it weighs almost nothing. I open it and try not to let the chill take over.

  The grimoire isn’t in it.

  FORTY

  Aidan

  Mom’s grimoire would only fly out the window for bad reasons. Reasons to do with Ava, I assume. But why would she need it? She must have the whole thing memorized by now.

  I stay in Kara’s bedroom for a while and think about everything that’s happening, trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out what my sister might have done with Rebecca. But nothing becomes clear.

  A couple of hours pass and I hear Holly’s voice trail upstairs as she squeals a greeting to Kara and Connor. I rush down and burst into the kitchen to see Connor helping Kara through the back door. Tray follows after them, passes through, and heads straight for the living room and his mom and sister.

  I take Kara from Connor and hug her close, trying to be gentle but finding it difficult with my relief being so strong. She seems fine, except for a slight grimace.

  “I’m all right,” she says, patting me on the chest like I’m being silly.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

  “It’s all right.” She touches my cheek and some of her bluster fades. “I understand.”

  I press my forehead against hers and release a sigh.

  “She needs to rest,” Connor says, sounding protective.

  “I will,” she says. “Just let me enjoy the fact that I’m not dead for five seconds.”

  “Fine,” he says. “I’m leaving anyway.”

  Kara and I both turn to him and I ask, “Where are you going?”

  He moves in close so only the two of us can hear him. “Where do you think?” he asks through his teeth. “I’m going to go look for my girlfriend. Because I blew off her calls for two days, crushed her, and now she’s gone missing. I might never see her again. And it’s so goddamn ironic, because I was pulling away, afraid I was about to hurt her. Which I did. I hurt her by hiding myself and now I may have fucking killed her because I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Connor,” Kara says, sadly.

  His confession hits me sideways. “This is in no way your fault, man. You can’t take this on.”

  “I get it, you know.” He shakes his head. “I get how you feel, Aidan, that weight on your shoulders, and I blame you and you blame yourself, but it’s all so goddamn unfair. She never should have been pulled into this. Not her.”

  “I know,” I say, because I don’t know what else will console him.

  “I need to find her,” he says. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself if I don’t.”

  Kara and I decide that since she needs to rest anyway, I should go with Connor to look for Rebecca. I’m worried about him, and I also know I won’t be able to stomach sitting around waiting and hoping. The more time that passes without news, the more the dark thoughts have closed in. The more I see Rebecca hurting and tormented. The more I think the unthinkable.

  We’re taking Tray and his mom and sister back home on the way out. Tray thanks me an embarrassing number of times as he walks out the back door with us.

  “If it wasn’t for you, they wouldn’t be safe,” he says as we’re getting in the Jeep. “You gave me a way to protect them.”

  Selena holds her brother’s finger and looks back and forth between us with her big eyes.

  “Just be careful,” I say. “And call me if you need anything, or if anything weird happens with your new stuff.”

  He nods and Selena tugs on his shirt. When he bends to see what she needs, she whispers something in his ear.

  Tray smiles and then glances at me. “She wants to give you something so you’re not sad.”

  Her little hand holds out one of the green ribbons she had in her hair. Then she grabs my wrist and wraps it round and round, tying it haphazardly. “Now you can be pretty, too,” she says.

  When Connor and I drop them off, I watch the three figures walk down the path to their apartment building and feel a twinge of regret, missing my sister. Missing what we could have been. Missing what we were. I hope Tray and Selena’s story has a happier ending than mine and Ava’s likely will.

  Connor and I drive through town, stopping at each place where he and Rebecca have hung out, searching at the beach, a couple of restaurants. We try her school, even wander around campus a little bit, but there’s no sign of her. We didn’t think there would be, we just didn’t know what else to do.

  I recall I have the number for her friend Samantha, and text to ask that she have Rebecca call us if she sees her. That it’s important. Then we drive around Rebecca’s neighborhood again, around the adjacent neighborhoods, too. As the sun sinks into the horizon, we know we’ve exhausted what we can do in a car, and start back home again.

  I don’t say anything and neither does he. But we both feel it, the finality of stopping the search, of pulling down our street. I don’t know how to have hope at this point. Not anymore. Definitely not after Ava let that demon hurt Kara so brutally. We both know what my sister is capable of doing. How far she’s willing to go.

  “We could find another way,” Connor says. “Maybe there’s some kind of locator spell?”

  “I don’t know one, but we could ask Sid.”

  “There’s got to be something more we can do to—” His words cut off and he cranes his neck, looking at something in the yard. Then he goes perfectly still and the smell of adrenaline leaks into the cab of the Jeep. “Someone’s here.”

  I glance over to where he’s looking, and my muscles tense. A man is in the backyard, near the stack of wood that was the old shed. Tall, dressed in what looks like a robe. He appears to just be standing there, staring at the house. “Do you recognize him?” I ask.

  Connor shakes his head. “You?”

  “No.”

  We watch him for several seconds, and he doesn’t turn to look at us or seem to know we’re here. I try to decide how to approach this. He could be possessed. He could be a corporeal demon in human form. He could also be some freak who’s looking for aliens. I can’t tell from here. It’s too dark to see his features clearly, but he’s in a long brown robe, his hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, making his profile look severe. Suddenly he shifts and pulls something from the folds of his robe, a small animal of some kind.

  He lifts it up, high. And slices down the belly with a dagger in his other hand.

  Blood and insides spill out onto his head and face, an anointing of death.

  My gut churns.

  “Shit.” Connor grabs the door handle and starts to get out of the Jeep. “He’s breaking the wards.
”

  I stop him with a hand on his shoulder. “Wait.” He looks at me like I’ve lost it. “Text Kara and warn her, let me deal with this.”

  “Like hell. You have no clue what he is.”

  “You need to get everyone out of here. This is only happening because something else is coming. And we can’t waste time wondering what that could be.”

  He nods, leaving the key in the ignition as he slips out of the Jeep and heads around the side yard to the front of the house.

  I take a deep breath and go in the opposite direction, making my way along the garage, until I’m only two yards away from the guy, staying behind him in the growing shadows. The smell of carnage is strong. As I pause, the sound of his whispers come clear. He’s casting a spell, something about shields. But he’s not tearing them down, he’s putting them up.

  I look around the backyard to be sure there’s not some other man or thing hiding nearby, then I reach in my pocket and touch my Star of David, whispering a prayer. I can tell that my power is still weak from doing the resurrection, but I don’t have much of a choice.

  I step from the shadows, toward him, reciting Psalm 91 in Hebrew as I get closer, not attempting to be quiet anymore.

  The figure turns, hunching a little. The ghoulish features shimmer with blood as he faces me. The whites of his eyes are almost glowing as they shine through the painting of death. There are bits of guts on his shoulders and on the front of his robes and black T-shirt underneath.

  He drops the animal—a cat carcass—and stares at me like I just caught him spying on a naked girl.

  He’s human. Not a corporeal demon. Possessed?

  “Show yourself, dever,” I say in demon tongue.

  The man’s brow creases in confusion.

  So I pull my dagger free and add in English, “You know I’m going to rip your insides out next, right?”

  The whites of his eyes get even bigger, and he lifts his hands in surrender. “Dude, it’s just a job.”

  Now it’s my turn to frown. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “It’s a spell,” he says. “But it’s not real.” No red spark lights his eye. He motions to the house behind him. “I was hired to scare the guy that lives here, because he owes some dude money. I’m just a witch trying to earn a living.”

  I lower my dagger and study him, his soul. There is a slight shine of silver on his skin and the blood mist from the spell is still swirling at his feet. “That spell you just did is real. Who hired you?”

  “I don’t know, some pretty boy with an itch for overkill. He gave me the instructions and then said to call when it was done.”

  I hold out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

  He hesitates and eyes the blade I’m still clutching tight in my other hand, then he pulls a phone from his pocket and passes it to me. “I can just go. Don’t worry, I won’t call him.”

  A red spark.

  I take the phone and throw it as hard as I can in the same direction I chucked the blogger’s. It flies over the fence, over two backyards, before hitting the trunk of a tree at Mach 6 and shattering into tiny pieces.

  “Shit, dude! That was a brand-new iPhone.”

  “Leave now or I’m calling the cops.” I point at the eviscerated cat.

  He gapes at me like he still wants to be pissed about his phone, but then he growls and storms past me, heading for the back alley.

  I watch him to make sure he’s really gone before I head toward the house. Connor still hasn’t come out with anyone, so I’m guessing he was having trouble convincing the others to leave.

  I open the back door and step into the house as someone else comes up onto the porch beside me, holding a phone up like a microphone.

  “Just one new quote for the readers would be amazing, Mr. Blink,” the blogger says quickly. “You’re a huge hit.”

  I push him backward, trying to get away as he follows me into the kitchen. “Put that damn thing away,” I say. “You scared me half to death, you stupid—” but my voice freezes. I watch in confusion as a blade comes around from behind the blogger and slices across his throat, opening his jugular. All in half a second.

  His phone falls to the linoleum as his hand goes to the wound, mouth opening and closing, his blood spraying across my shirt.

  But before I can react or get a look at the attacker, I’m yanked to the side and shoved hard. I hit the table, crash onto a chair, then hit the floor, wrist twisting. My ribs scream, my knees ache. I’m picked up by two figures and dragged into the entryway, then dropped unceremoniously.

  I try to catch my breath, to get my bearings, to figure out what just happened—

  “Well, well,” says a voice above me. “The Fire Bringer seems to be all out of juice from that resurrection. My girl actually did it. She told me you wouldn’t be able to resist bringing the dad back from the dead.”

  I scramble up and realize there’s a man in front of me. A very familiar man. The Heart-Keeper. The thing that my mother’s spirit trapped. He’s free. He’s full of power. And I’m not the only vulnerable one here. My heart crushes in my chest as I see the other occupants in the room. They’re all in a semicircle: Connor and Kara at the foot of the stairs, Raul and Finger beside Kara, Holly and Jax next to Connor. Bound, hands and feet. Sid is lying on the floor of the living room. His body still. Eyes closed.

  I can’t to show fear, I have to focus—but I can’t stop my legs from shaking.

  Two other creeping figures are fading into the shadows—the ones that dragged me in here. They watch in silence, giving their master the room. I can’t tell what they are yet, but I sense their Darkness. I feel the death of the innocent guy they just killed. I smell my friends’ terror, my own.

  And I know all too well the Heart-Keeper’s vicious lust for blood.

  FORTY-ONE

  Aidan

  He looks casually around the entry at his audience.

  I watch in horror as he moves along the semicircle of my friends. His clothes are the same modern, expensive style as before. So perfect in appearance, it’s disturbing. His model features focus as he pauses next to a kneeling Kara.

  Then he takes her chin in his hands and sneers.

  “Don’t touch her!” I spit out, rising to my feet. I’m grabbed before I can lunge, and the two figures in the shadows shove me back to my knees.

  I struggle against them, but they only grip me tighter, so tight the pressure vibrates my bones. I search for my fire, for something, but my power sleeps. I’m useless, a desert. I used up everything on helping Rebecca’s dad.

  “You are a bit of a surprise,” the Heart-Keeper says, ignoring my fit, still holding Kara’s face, intent on speaking to her. “You healed yourself . . . ? Unexpected. It won’t save you, but it is curious.” He studies her face like he’s considering something. Then he releases her and turns to Connor. “And you, my violent boy. That fire in your belly is only going to grow. Perhaps we should do the world a favor?” And then he winks in a grotesque sign of affection.

  Connor cringes.

  Another figure steps out of the shadows behind the stairs, a third guard, watching Connor in case he tries to fight or run. It’s a woman. Her eyes are black, and there are dark veins running up her neck and one side of her face. A corporeal demon. I can’t get a look at them, but my guess is that the two men holding me are the same.

  “So,” the Heart-Keeper says, turning to me. “I assume your sister told you I was going to come for a visit. Do as he says, give him what he wants, and all that. I am surprised you didn’t listen and take precautions. You even let an innocent into the lion’s den.” He clucks his tongue, motioning to the dead blogger in the kitchen. He shakes his head, and his slick hair falls over his forehead a little. “A bit disappointing, but I’ll work with what I can get.”

  His words send chills over me as I realize what Ava meant. She was telling me to give the others over to this creature. The thing that had our mother’s heart ripped out. “What do you want with u
s?”

  “Us?” he asks in an amused voice. “You’re all cozy and bonded now, I know. Really, that’s adorable.” He sighs and smiles wistfully. “What do I want . . . ? Now that is a question. Is this the part of our tale where the villain rattles off his plan so that the hero—being you, of course—can save himself and his scrappy band of cohorts?” He motions to the others with a dramatic sweep of his hand. Then he steps closer to me and leans in, saying in a conspiratorial voice, “I always found that bit of human entertainment so predictable. Let’s do something new and fresh. You know, where I keep my thoughts to myself and you just”—his voice becomes nails digging into me—“die.” His features shift, their beauty melting away.

  The thing is a scaly, twisted alien. It’s man and reptile all in one. Huge yellow eyes, wide mouth full of tiny teeth and two very large fangs. Its long and bony fingers are webbed to the knuckles, each one tipped with a sharp claw.

  Holly whimpers behind it, and the others shift, the room filling with the smell of their horror.

  Those yellow eyes examine me, and the thing bares its thin teeth in a twisted grin. One of its claws comes up and touches my temple. The talon slides gently over my sweaty skin.

  Then sinks in, ripping down my face.

  I cry out in agony and try to jerk away, but my captors hold me tight.

  The Heart-Keeper laughs, the sound raking over my bones. “You won’t be so pretty now, will you?”

  My stomach roils from the pain, my cheek and neck turn slick with hot blood. I try to kick out, but something sharp springs from the demon holding me on the left and pricks my chest. I struggle and try to see it. It’s pressing at my pec, slicing into my shirt. It looks like a tail. A tail with a long, thin stinger for a tip.

  “Don’t think I won’t slice out that heart, Little Flame,” the Heart-Keeper says. “It’s a prize I’ve promised to your sister, but if you push me, I’ll consider backing out of the deal.” His human guise rises back into place, returning his model-like features. He spins around with a flourish to face the others. “So, children. We’ve come to the moment of truth. Where the music of what you have become must be faced. Now that my little witch has pushed you all to bond, there is one among you who’s marked to be mine. The most vital of you that I must collect.” His gaze scans the six of them. “I won’t make it emotional, it’s pretty cut and dry; I just need to know which of you is the tip of the arrow.”