“They’re not.” Of course, I didn’t know that. But I had to believe it. “And that’s a stupid name.”
Blythe tapped a screen to her left. “These are pandemic pages. They have maps of every case reported. I’m bringing up as many maps as I can on all these lovely screens. Aren’t they just wonderful?”
She went back to typing and I watched the flashing color, the shifting of windows from one screen to the next. “How can you possibly take in information at this speed?”
She giggled, small fingers nearly blurring. “Everything is color-coded. I’m just looking for the biggest spot of red.” She pointed to another screen. “Like this one.”
I leaned forward and nearly bit the end of my tongue off when I moved my arm. Yeah, I should be flat with pain, and Blythe had shared her mojo and made it better, but the ache was still pretty intense when I moved. The kick from the demon had sprained two of my fingers and since it was the hand on the same arm as the re-opened wound, I was miserable.
I looked at the map of the United States and saw small dots of red sprinkled throughout, but it was pretty obvious where this originated by what resembled a thick, spreading bloodstain across the bottom right side. “It’s here. In Florida.”
Nodding, she pointed north to a place with a smaller, but growing area of red. “It’s getting worse in other states, too, but nothing like it is here.”
My stomach clenched hard. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“The weird thing is I haven’t read anything about demon attacks on any of the news sites. Not the legitimate ones anyway. There are a few on the paranormal trackers’ sites but all the other ones are being attributed to wild animals. But the majority of Somatic Slumber sufferers are here. Which makes sense if you think about it. I mean, we’re here.”
I thought about it and no, her logic didn’t click. Shaking my head, I smiled and just let it go. I was fast learning that her explanations were sometimes worse than just not knowing. Entertaining, but still worse. “This Dweller Nikolos talks about is obviously sending these things to stop us, so we must be some sort of threat.” I turned to Nikolos.
He was sitting at the table where he’d laid out Blythe’s spell book, paper and a couple of other books—for help in translation, he’d said. A faint green outlined the unnatural-looking pastiness of his face. Nikolos’s chair creaked as he shifted slowly, still reading. His hair was just now drying after his shower. Like mine, it took a while. He’d left it down and it draped the sides of his face, swinging with his movements in a silky slide that had me watching him more often than what Blythe was doing on the Internet. He tucked a strand behind his ear. The gesture should have looked feminine. It didn’t.
What would that hair feel like if he sent it slithering along my naked flesh?
Blythe giggled again and elbowed my side lightly. I looked down to find her attention completely on me.
“Do I need to leave you two alone?”
“Shut up,” I muttered, grumpy that I was so freaking transparent.
Nikolos picked that moment to look up and once again, I felt that weird crawly feeling in my chest when our eyes met. He did bad things to my lungs, this man. “How did you track the host the first time around?” I asked. “You said you went looking. Where?”
He leaned back in his chair, his burgundy long-sleeved T-shirt stretching over his chest. The heavy bandage wrapping his ribs was easily visible under the thin cotton. “The unconscious people grew to two out of every five people in Aegenia. But we received word through the ships that possibly more were ailing on the other islands and on the mainland. I was sent with my army to get more information.”
“You said a goddess sent you.”
He nodded. “Ariadne. But she was wrong. We spent a long time tracking.” He looked down at the book.
I waited, knowing he would keep going—he had to.
He pointed to the natural spring in the center of the room. “I picked this place to settle because of the limestone labyrinths beneath the ground. On Aegenia, we built our homes over similar caves. Deep labyrinths that we used for everything from religious ceremony to family gathering and storage. Florida looks much different on the surface, but down there it reminds me of home.”
This wasn’t a tangent. I held my breath, bracing for a story I could tell I wouldn’t like.
“When I left my home to find the host, I didn’t have this kind of technology.” He waved his hand toward the computer area.
“What I thought might take a month or two took over a year. My men, they…no, all of us—we were disillusioned by the time we found the man we were looking for. We were tired, hungry and so homesick, we barreled into his village and just… slaughtered. A kind of black madness took over our minds, our actions. We weren’t in control.”
I had to look away from his regret. Bone-chilling and so deep, its sucking black abyss threatened to pull us all inside. Yeah, technically something made him do this, but the guilt would stay. I knew that more than anyone.
“I snapped out of it before my men. I couldn’t stop them. But I killed the host. I’m the one who looked him in the eye and cut the breath from his body.” Nikolos leaned back and even though his shirt was a dark, dark red, I could see blood leaking through the bandages.
“When he fell, a cry sounded in the heavens, and those still alive suddenly went mad. The earth began to shake. Thera erupted without any warning and I was knocked into one of our labyrinths. To this day, I don’t know how I was able to hold my breath that long. Why I was able to swim out into the ocean.” He met my eyes. “I don’t know why I’m still alive.”
I knew. I was pretty sure he did too. I’d been through him outside after battling that demon. I’d seen—and worse yet—felt what those souls were doing to him. They kept him alive. Somehow, the souls of the dying on Aegenia must have attached to him—turned him into a kind of soul eater. Problem was, I’d studied soul eaters and they’d been described as shadowy, sucking creatures that lurked in dark places and fed on evil. Plus, souls were supposed to be flowing toward them constantly. I’d looked and seen nothing.
Soul eater didn’t fit.
Yet the souls kept him alive.
Phro shifted and his gaze shot to her. The goddess had her arms wrapped tight about herself. She looked pale. I lifted an eyebrow but she only turned away and pulled Fred from the room. I was so used to him disappearing lately I hadn’t realized he was even there.
Nikolos cleared his throat. “The island was so covered in ash and debris, it was uninhabitable for more than a century. It thrives today, but I can never go back.”
“So, since then you’ve followed the Dweller.” I moved to one of the benches along the wall and sat on the soft cushions. “It’s difficult to wrap my head around this. Not only are you older than… well, anything, I think… but we have to track down someone who promises to be some kind of messiah and kill him. Or her.”
He stood and came to sit beside me. The trickle of spring water disappeared as my heart picked up rhythm and filled my ears. He brushed hair from my face and lifted my chin. Black eyes stared. “How is this any stranger than your existence? You, a strong, beautiful woman of compassion and of magic. You are no more a part of this world than I am.”
“What world am I a part of then?” I whispered. “I can’t be alone.”
“I have been. Have since the death of my last child. Over a hundred years.”
I didn’t want to think about his children again. “I’ve spent most of my adulthood tracking things down. I watch them, question them—I’ve fought with many of them. The one thing that has driven me all this time is my need for answers. I need to know what I am.” I took a deep breath, noting that it carried the warm, spicy scent of this man. “But right now, I need my sister’s soul back more. That last demon was smarter than the ones in the hospital. I don’t think we have a lot of time.”
“I’ll continue translating the book.” His hair swung as he stood and walked back to the ta
ble. “Tell me something,” he said, throwing me a glance over his shoulder, “Have you always been able to call bees?”
I nodded.
He smiled. “Bees were sacred to my people. They made the divine nectar.”
“Honey is divine nectar?”
“It was more valuable on Aegenia than gold is today. We fermented it into mead, used it in medicines. But there is something even more interesting about bees.”
Phro and Fred had come back into the room and lingered near the door. Ignoring them, I lifted an eyebrow. “And that is?”
“My mother once told me that they were the birds of the muses—the bringers of order. I don’t know what you are—where you come from, but I think maybe there is something there.”
“So either I’m a muse… or some sort of cosmic police woman?”
He chuckled, the sound deep, warm. “There is a reason for you, Beri. For your strength and your beautiful, glowing hair. For your connection to nature and for the deep and beautiful compassion that makes you special. Maybe you are here to bring order.”
I had to look away briefly. Compliments had been few and far between in my life and I could feel my face burning.
“Yet you still blush at a kind word.” He sat back in his chair, a grimace tightening his mouth—probably with the pain. “My first wife was much like you. She was strong. A bull rider who played the frame drum. She could fight with me in battle, yet she blushed the first time I kissed her.” The smile disappeared from his face entirely. He was silent for so long I thought that was the end of the story.
When he spoke, I wished it had been.
“When I returned to Aegenia, she and our children were dead. I didn’t think I could survive that pain, yet I did.”
“You said you’d been alone since your last child. You said over a hundred years.”
“I married again. Here in America when I was tracking the Harp brothers. I met Emily in seventeen ninety-nine and despite knowing what was to come, I married her. We had four children together. My last child, Rebecca, died at the age of eighty. When she passed, she didn’t know who I was.”
It felt like someone had stabbed me. I hugged my arms close. Blythe’s key tapping had stopped and I heard a muted sob sound from that direction. I had to change the subject.
Swallowing heavily, I blinked back the hot tears that burned and threatened to spill. “Nikolos, did you see the Dweller when you killed the host?”
“I did not. Truth is, I expected to find him in that labyrinth. It not only served a practical purpose in my village, but the labyrinth represents the descent into the mind’s unconscious structure—a place of great wisdom and enlightenment. My people believed that one must enter the labyrinth to slay the beast that represents the forces of the unconscious.” He laid his elbows on the table, his voice dropping. “Doesn’t that sound remarkably similar to what I told you about the Dweller on the Threshold? Could that beast very well be the stain of karma left by one evil soul’s many lifetimes?”
I shivered. Sat there shaking and wishing for a big, fat pain pill. One that might dull the edges of my thoughts as well. A creature with this kind of power boggled my mind and filled the deepest part of my soul with a thick, strangling terror. And this thing had what gave my sister animation, life. This thing had stolen her. “We have to find this host. Now.”
Blythe cleared her throat. “I think I have.”
“What?” I jumped up, winced over the dumb-ass move when it hurt, then hurried to the computer. Nikolos, Phro and Fred all followed.
But Blythe quickly minimized the window, her cheeks pale. “I don’t know if I can be a part of this. This person we’re trying to find is innocent. How can killing him or her be anything but wrong?” She wrung her hands.
Truth was, I agreed with her. The thought of taking an innocent life churned in my gut constantly—like some nasty virus waiting for the right moment to infest and chew its way through healthy tissue. “What if we just find this person first, huh Blythe? Talk to him or her? See if there’s another option?” I touched her shoulder. “I don’t want to kill anyone either. But I also don’t want all those people to die and I certainly don’t want to live in the world Nikolos described—the one that could come if this thing gets loose.”
“I have an idea,” she murmured. “What about hiring someone who practices goetic magic?”
Nikolos nodded. “It’s a good idea. A very good one. You know one?”
“Goetic?” I asked.
“It’s from the Greek word, goetia,” Nikolos answered. “Necromancy.”
“I know what it is. I just don’t get why we want someone who can raise the dead.”
Blythe pulled up another window she’d minimized. This one was a black screen with images of zombies and demons—the old fashioned kind with horns—ones I’d never actually seen alive and out in the world. “Necromancers,” she said, “don’t only raise the dead. They also summon demons.”
Nikolos held up his hand. “She’s onto something here. The Dweller is a kind of demon. A karmic demon. At this point, though, he’s gathered enough souls to be something more—something that has the strength to send out minions. But a necromancer could possibly pull him from his hiding place.”
I was starting to get it. Excitement chased out the sick feeling Nikolos’s story had left. “And we’d find the place somewhere near the host. It would have to be. It’s still tied to him in some way, even if it has separated from the soul in its current incarnation. Plus, it would want to guard him because you said killing the host killed the Dweller. There you go, Blythe. We might not have to kill anyone.” I grinned. “So, do you know the person who made this website?”
She shrugged. “Kind of. No.” Her shoulders slumped and she muttered something about not being able to lie. “Yes.”
I didn’t like the sound of this. “Explain.”
“He’s the necromancer we hired at that summit I told you about—the one with the demons? He’s the one who summoned them for us.”
“If you know him, why’d you try to lie about it?”
“Because I thought I knew him and it turned out I didn’t. Not at all.”
Phro started to laugh. “Come on Beri, think about it. Look at those rosy cheeks of hers.”
I shot Phro a glare, then clued in. My mouth falling open before I whipped back around to Blythe. “He’s an ex?”
She bit her lip. Nodded.
“Then pick someone else. The last thing we need is more fucking drama.”
“I don’t know anyone else.”
Nikolos had remained silent throughout this. I glanced at him to find a wicked sparkle in his eyes, a faint grin teasing the corner of his lips.
“You may have to swallow your pride and contact him.” I leaned over to take a closer look at the screen. There were a lot of stupid, scary images on the page, but some cute fairies too. And flowers. I saw one of the boxes in the corner indicating the option for music. I took the mouse from her and clicked.
‘Witches’ by Switchblade Symphony flared up loud.
Nikolos lost his control and laughed. Blythe’s lip quivered.
I let go of the mouse, tapped my foot again. “Blythe, uh, this relationship ended badly, didn’t it?”
She hunched her shoulders and scrolled down the page and there—at the bottom—was a stickwoman with Blythe’s picture over her face. Skewered. Hanging over a pit of fire.
“Well.” I turned my face away, swallowing the chuckles rumbling in my throat. “Calling this person is obviously a very, very bad idea. So… I say we go grab his ass. Not give him a choice.” I waggled my brows at her. “We can even rough him up a bit if you want.”
She shook her head violently and shot up from the chair. It was wheeled, so it spun back into the desk with a loud whack. “No. I’ll find someone else.”
“But Blythe.” I laid my hand on her arm. “If the witch’s council hired him, it’s because he’s the best. Am I right?”
“Yes, he is.
But he’s had apprentices—”
I narrowed my eyes. “I want an expert, not an apprentice.” I looked back at that stick-figure-Blythe. “What exactly happened between you and this…” I squinted at the screen. “Dooby? Wait. His name is Dooby? You dated a guy named Dooby?”
She growled and punched my arm. “Stop laughing. His real name is Dubious.”
Phro snorted. I didn’t blame her. That name was so much worse.
I thought Blythe was going to try and hit the goddess too, so I put both hands on her arms. “Were his parents necromancers? Ones with bad senses of humor?”
“Dubious got his name after scaring them before they even brought him home from the hospital after his birth. He raised zombies. His parents were human and his dad—uh—worked for the circus. Dooby raised some of his dad’s former coworkers. Clowns who’d been buried in their makeup. They tore up the hospital, sent two nurses and one orderly into the psych ward—”
I held up my hand to shut her up. “Okay, no more. We’ll find someone else.”
She sighed, fluttered her hands about for a couple of seconds then plopped back in the chair. She swung toward the screen. “No. He is the best. Let me try to email him.”
I shrugged. “It’s your neck.” And it was. Literally. A little, stick-figured Blythe hanging by the neck, dangling on a website that looked like a teenager had decorated it.
Dooby was obviously online. An email shot back within minutes. All it said was “Die, Bitch.” And right about that time, the music changed and the little image of Blythe flipped onto its side—still skewered—but now spinning over the fire.
Nikolos stepped back and covered his mouth. I cleared my throat, choking again. Phro’s bark of laughter nearly drowned out Blythe’s gasp of outrage.
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