The Awakening (Immortals)

by Joy Nash

  “My power will be unending.”

  “No…such…thing,” Christine gasped.

  Leanna laughed. “Your naiveté is charming, my sweet.”

  “Yours isn’t,” Christine ground out. “No demon powerful enough to give you that kind of power will let you keep your soul.”

  “Ah yes. You know something about demons, don’t you? That will make your…seduction…all the more pleasurable for my mistress. Yes, I believe Culsu is going to enjoy you, my little witch.”

  “Culsu? The demon who destroyed Kalen’s people?”

  “Yes. Which is exactly why Kalen has been invited to our little party.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The lead blanket closed over Christine’s head once again.

  She managed to gulp some air before the heavy fabric cut off her vision. A moment later she felt herself being lifted and carried by Dougal. His steps rose. The edges of the blanket parted and she saw she was atop the cairn stage. The ogre gave her a nasty, pointed-tooth smile as he jerked the blanket. She rolled out of its heavy embrace and fell hard. It was only after she hit the wooden planks that she realized they’d been painted with blood.

  The blood was hot and spelled with death. She lay on her back atop it, nearly suffocated by its stench. She couldn’t rise, couldn’t move, not even an inch.

  Dougal’s green faced loomed over her. Leanna joined him. Her bare, erect nipples crested the top rim of her corset. Her complexion was flushed pink, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

  Tears sprang into her eyes. Leanna took note of them before she could blink them away.

  “Go ahead and cry, witch. It won’t help you, but at least it’s entertaining for the rest of us.” Dougal guffawed in agreement.

  “What…” Christine’s lips felt numb. She struggled to form words. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Leanna tapped a finger on her cheek. “Hmmm…Should I tell you what I have planned? The thought of watching your dread blossom as your fate draws nearer holds a certain appeal. But then again, so does the prospect of seeing the shock hit you all at once.” She paused, considering. “Maybe I’ll treat myself to the best of both worlds. Let’s give you a small taste of your fate now.”

  She traced a rune in the air. The lines glowed with crimson fire. Wunjo. Normally, the symbol meant fellowship. But Leanna had traced the lines in mirror image, invoking its shadow meaning. Enslavement.

  It could mean only one thing. Christine was to be given to Culsu.

  “No!” She struggled, trying to crawl from the stage, but succeeded only in scraping her knuckles on the bloodstained wood. “No. Not that. I’d rather die.”

  “I have no doubt of it.” Leanna lifted her slender shoulders. “But alas, I made a promise. And I can’t go back on my word.”

  “It won’t work. Kalen will stop you. And Mac—when your brother finds out—”

  “Mac,” Leanna spat. “He is nothing. Nothing, do you hear me? He will bow at my feet when all is done. If he survives at all. Now, my sweet, my advice is to relax and try to enjoy what’s to come. It’s really the best you can hope for.”

  She made a slashing motion, erasing the lines of the blasphemous rune. Unsheathing a small knife, she pricked the tip of her finger, drawing a drop of blood. It dripped onto the stage with a hiss. The air cracked, revealing a slice of fathomless void. Black smoke emerged from the fissure, dipping and curling. The menacing tendrils reached for Christine.

  She jerked when it touched her right foot. The unholy sensation burned worse than the lead had, but in a completely different way. This touch was hot and oily. Unclean. Painful, yes, but it was pain with an unmistakable undercurrent of pleasure.

  A dart of unwanted awareness jolted through her. She groaned, twisted, but could not escape it. The smoke resolved into long, thin fingers. They touched her ankle; then suddenly, the shoes, stockings, and long skirt she was wearing turned to ash, leaving her legs naked from the thighlength hem of her long shirt to her bare feet. Smoky fingers drifted up the inside of her calf. Circled to the hollow behind her bent knee.

  Christine fought her body’s response. Pain and arousal—and the arousal was definitely the worse of the two. Perspiration dripped into her eyes; her breath grew short. Tiny bursts of pleasure/pain exploded on her skin. She writhed.

  “Please,” she begged. “Make it stop.”

  Leanna was watching with avid interest. “Not so proud now,” she murmured. “Not so proud at all. A demon’s touch is sublime, isn’t it, my sweet?”

  “No.” Christine gasped as the smoky hand skated up the inside of her leg. “It’s hideous.” It teased the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. “Obscene. You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to fear from me. Please…”

  Leanna clapped once. The sharp sound reverberated against the standing stones. Abruptly, the smoke snapped back into the void, as if sucked away by a sudden vacuum. The fissure snapped shut.

  Christine sagged on the altar, gasping. The demon’s fingers left a fetid, oily residue on her skin. She felt unclean. Used. A surge of bile rose in her throat.

  This was only a small taste of what was to come if she couldn’t escape.

  “Why are you doing this? Why me?”

  Leanna’s eyes took on the gleam of a madwoman’s. “You took Kalen from me. Became his muse in my place. You separated me from his Immortal essence. He was going to give me his child, his immortal soul. And then you arrived and ruined it all.”

  She stepped away and turned to Dougal. “Prepare her.”

  The half-breed approached. Working quickly, he tied Christine’s wrists and ankles with ropes entwined with lead, fastening her limbs to iron rings set at the corners of the stage.

  When they were finished, Leanna gave an approving nod. “Yes. That will do nicely.”

  “No,” a voice said. “It won’t. Release her. Now.”

  The sun dipped below the horizon, the blue of the sky taking on a leaden cast. The city lay beneath it, illuminated by angry fire in several locations. One blaze was very close—it would certainly reach the hotel before the hour was out. Kalen turned away from the window, scowling. Leanna wasn’t going to show. And what in Hades had happened to Mac?

  A prickle of apprehension lifted the hairs on his nape. Only the gravest of circumstances would have kept Mac away from this encounter. Had Leanna and Kehksut attacked the Gates? There was only one way to find out.

  Grimly, Kalen picked up his spear.

  Mac had come.

  Thank the Goddess.

  His voice came from behind Christine’s head. She twisted her neck, trying to see him. Leanna, standing at the foot of the altar, sent her brother a baleful look. The next instant Dougal sprang into action, putting his considerable bulk between Mac and Christine.

  “You’re not welcome here, Mac Lir,” the half-breed muttered.

  Mac ignored him. “Release her, Leanna. Now. I’m not going to ask a third time.”

  “I don’t take orders from you.”

  “No,” he said grimly. “You take them from your mistress.”

  He made a move toward Christine. Leanna snarled and sent a blast of elfshot whizzing. Mac threw up an arm, deflecting it. The missile exploded harmlessly in the dirt.

  “Get him!” Leanna screamed.

  Elfshot screeched across the cairn. Dougal rushed him, throwing his considerable weight into the attack. He slammed into Mac at a full run, pitching them both off the cairn. They hit the dirt hard, thrashing.

  Leanna shut her eyes and went very still. When she opened them again, the pale orbs shone with crimson light.

  “You will not defeat me.” The voice that emerged from her throat was low and guttural. She lifted an arm and took aim. A bolt of red demonfire burst from her fingers, engulfing both Mac and Dougal. Christine twisted in her bonds, a cry scraping her throat. Mac had to win this fight. He had to. She wouldn’t consider the alternative.

  Her heart l
eapt when she saw Mac, battered and burned, push to his feet. Dougal remained motionless, sprawled on the ground.

  Mac advanced toward the cairn. “You will release her, Leanna.”

  “No. This witch is mine.” A brazen smile played on her lips. “But you’re welcome to try and take her.”

  Mac hoisted himself onto the edge of the cairn stage. Leanna, facing him, traced a shadow rune in the air.

  Berkana. Renewal. Its inverted form meant death.

  A ring of fire sprang up out of the stones, encircling Christine and Leanna. Mac was left outside the barrier. He paused, frowning, then traced a rune of his own.

  Sowulo. Success. The fire died.

  Leanna countered with the same rune, reversed. Failure.

  The fire jumped to life, higher and hotter than before.

  “Give it up, Mackie. Go hide in Annwyn. You’re no match for my power.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that,” he said quietly. “Death has its own weaknesses.”

  “Big words from a little man. I’m getting tired of this, Mac. Let’s end it now.”

  A knife appeared in her right hand. Christine gasped. In the next instant, before Mac could react, Leanna turned the blade on herself. A wide gash appeared on her upper arm, blood blossoming from the wound. It dripped onto the stage, sizzling, raising a sick odor.

  A horrendous squeal sounded. The air tore in two, the portal widening and lengthening until it was as tall and wide as a human body. Fire burned at its edges. Beyond was the dark, dull void of death.

  Mac’s expression was one of pure revulsion. “You are Sidhe, Leanna. How could you sink so low?”

  “Quite easily, I assure you.” She half turned to the portal. “Culsu,” she cried. “Come to me.”

  Mac’s eyes darted to the portal. Christine sucked in a breath as a rush of billowing smoke ushered a female figure onto the stage. She was tall and shapely, garbed in flowing black velvet. Her features were pale and flawless. Her dark hair glowed black against the backdrop of orange flame, the thick locks writhing about her head like snakes. Kalen’s ancient enemy was as beautiful as she was terrifying.

  Culsu’s gaze swept over Mac. She raised her brows and turned to Leanna. “This is the one you cannot handle? This…boy?”

  Leanna scowled. “Hardly a boy. He’s centuries old and his father’s a god.”

  Mac flicked a wrist, directing a blast of elfshot at the demon. The blow disappeared harmlessly into Culsu’s body. She hardly seemed to notice.

  Uncertainty flashed in Mac’s eyes.

  “I want you to get rid of him.” Leanna’s voice had taken on a petulant tone. “He’s wrecking our party.”

  “As you wish.” Culsu lifted her hand. Christine strained to see Mac through the screen of the fire. The flames cast Mac in sharp relief as he brought his arms up in a shielding motion. The next instant demonfire flashed from Culsu’s fingers, sailing though the circle of flames with a sizzle. Mac couldn’t dodge it quickly enough. The bolt hit his arm, spinning him around. He staggered, lost his footing, and toppled off the cairn.

  It took him only an instant to shake off the blow and stagger to his feet. A second fireball zinged from Culsu’s hand. Mac met it with a blast of elfshot. The green missile disintegrated, but not before it blasted the demonfire off course.

  Mac leaped onto the cairn, prowling around the fire, tracing runes. The flame faltered. He batted away a shot of demonfire. Leanna, cursing, added elfshot to the barrage. One deflected dart glanced off Christine’s arm, sending a sickening shock of pain through her nerves. She cried out before she could stop herself.

  At the sound, Mac jerked back. The distraction lasted only a second, but it was enough to gain Culsu a direct hit. Mac took a savage blast of demonfire squarely in the stomach.

  The blow sent his body hurtling through the air. He struck a standing stone, his skull impacting with a nauseating crack. His body slid down the stone, slumped to one side and lay still.

  No! Christine shut her eyes, helplessness cascading over her. If Culsu could defeat Mac, a demigod, her power was tremendous. Far beyond any resistance Christine might raise. There was no hope she could escape.

  “Look at me, human.”

  Christine’s eyes snapped open. Culsu was standing over her. A dark glow enveloped her figure. The movement of her hair was mesmerizing. Christine couldn’t move, couldn’t even cry out. Her panic reached flash point, igniting every cell in her body. Culsu leaned closer. Christine’s mind shrank away, but her body had frozen, as if turned to stone as the ancient legends of the gorgon described. Those legends had surely sprung from humanity’s terror of the creature looming over her now.

  Culsu smiled, absorbing her victim’s terror. One long finger reached toward Christine’s face. Christine turned her head and screwed her eyes shut. The touch came, a soft line of fire across her cheekbone and along her jaw.

  “So sweet,” Culsu breathed. “So much power.”

  Her fingers slithered down her neck and lower, inside her blouse, her hot palm cupping her breast. “Your soul will feed me for a millennium.” She squeezed gently. “It will be a fine feast.”

  Bile burned in Christine’s throat. Her stomach heaved. Her nipple had gone erect, her spine arching slightly into Culsu’s touch. The demon rolled Christine’s nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Christine moaned; Culsu chuckled.

  “I will enjoy you immensely, my little witch.”

  Christine stifled a sob. There would be no escape this time. Culsu was far more powerful than the demon that had enslaved Shaun. This entity would drag Christine to hell. Feed on her soul while she begged for oblivion. Her magic would be twisted into something dark, used to snare others as she’d been snared. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, she could do to stop it.

  “Goddess,” she whispered. “Uni. Help me.”

  Leanna laughed. “That bitch? She won’t help you. But someone else might attempt it.…” Her eyes slitted, gazing past the fire into the forest. “Ah yes. I believe he’s here now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Christine whipped her head around. Kalen stood at the edge of the stone circle, a long and deadly spear in his hand. The tip of the weapon glowed an unearthly white. The immortal’s gaze took in Mac’s inert form, but whatever Kalen’s inner reaction was, his expression betrayed nothing.

  Culsu glided toward him, passing through the ring of fire to the edge of the cairn.

  “It’s been a long time, Immortal.”

  Kalen’s voice was entirely devoid of emotion. “Culsu. This time, I will destroy you.”

  “And risk an eternity of nothingness?” She gave a shake of her head, setting the wild strands writhing and sliding. “A hard bitch, your mother is. She should have been a demon rather than a goddess.”

  “Release the woman.”

  “I may be persuaded to do just that.” She smiled. “A duel, perhaps? This witch can be the prize.”

  Kalen nodded. “If you wish.”

  “Ah, but you are eager. And even before you hear your penalty should you lose.”

  “Name any price.”

  “Your body and soul, in exchange for hers. Forever.”

  “Kalen, no!” Christine barely choked out the words. There was no way for Kalen to survive this contest. If he lost, he would belong to Culsu. If he destroyed the demon, he’d doom himself to an eternity of imprisonment. “I’m not worth this,” Christine finished in a broken whisper.

  Kalen’s eyes flickered, catching her gaze for the briefest of seconds before returning to his enemy.

  “You will fight,” Culsu stated.

  “Yes. And I will kill you.”

  “We shall see.”

  Culsu descended from the cairn to stand on the bare earth within the stone circle. Christine held her breath as Kalen and his ancient nemesis squared off. Kalen raised his spear, white fire crackling at it tip. Culsu gave a mild, disarming smile as she palmed a ball of demonfire. Leanna lowered the fire encircling
her and Christine and peered avidly at the dueling field. Leanna looked inordinately pleased. Clearly, she had faith in her mistress’s powers.

  Culsu cast a ball of demonfire. Kalen parried it with the tip of his spear. He swung the weapon around, releasing a stream of white energy. Culsu absorbed it easily in a flash of red.

  The battle quickened, red and white bolts colliding in fury. A blast of demonfire caught Kalen in the stomach. He staggered backward and lost his footing. Culsu rose, triumphant, but her glory was short-lived. Kalen rolled and sprang to his feet, swinging his spear and slicing the demon’s legs out from under her, severing them from her body.

  Leanna cried out in shock as Culsu collapsed. But where Kalen’s attack would have destroyed a human opponent, the demon was only briefly incapacitated. Culsu’s severed legs evaporated, forming a cloud of thickening black smoke that obscured her torso. An instant later the mist seeped away to reveal the demon whole and standing.

  The attack had taken its toll, though. Christine could see the strain in Culsu’s posture, the slight hunch in her shoulders. Kalen was ready. He lunged, his arm snapping forward, his spear spitting sparks as it shot toward his enemy. The weapon flew directly at Culsu’s chest.

  “No!” Leanna cried.

  No, Christine echoed silently. If the force of the blow destroyed the demon, Kalen would be lost.

  The spear never struck its target.

  A medieval warrior lunged from the portal atop the cairn. Clad in chain mail, a sword sheathed at his side, the improbable specter flung himself between Culsu and Kalen, his wide body spread in defense of the demon. Kalen’s spear came to a stop in midair, its tip barely touching the warrior’s armor. It quivered for several seconds before dropping to the dirt with a thud. The warrior nodded and stiffened his spine. Lifting a gauntleted hand, he raised the visor on his helmet.

  “This I will not permit. You will not harm her.”

  “Tain.” Kalen stood stunned. “What are you doing here?”

  The warrior’s reply was incredulous. “Why, brother, don’t you know? I am here to destroy you.”