Adrian watched in furious silence as the demon female finished, then carefully wiped off the knife and laid it back on the table, her naked body coated with Tain’s blood.
“There now, love,” she said softly. “Are you ready to begin the healing?”
Tain nodded, holding his arms out pathetically to her. She morphed into the male demon, still naked, and snatched up the woman’s garments to wrap around Tain’s exposed body. Then the demon hoisted Tain over his bare shoulders. He turned briefly before he carried Tain out the door, meeting Adrian’s gaze. His eyes gleamed in dark triumph, and then he and Tain were gone.
* * *
Eight hours after their conversation with Septimus, Amber’s group gathered in front of her house in Seattle. To the mundane eye, the house looked fine, unchanged, except for the newspapers piled on the doorstep and the uncollected mail in the box.
But to Amber’s witch eyes the house was covered in darkness, a wash of death magic enveloping it like a mourning shroud. Valerian, Septimus, and Sabina could see it as well, and gazed at the house in dismay.
Septimus had geared up his private plane to bring them to Seattle, not, Amber was happy to note, the same plane that had rescued her and Valerian from the ice. They’d landed at Seattle’s commuter airport, and late as it was, Septimus had a limo waiting to drive them to Amber’s home.
“What is it?” Kelly asked, unable to see anything unusual. She’d insisted on accompanying them, not out of guilt for falling for Septimus, she told Amber, but because she cared about Adrian and wanted to help.
“Death magic,” Amber answered. “He’s blanketed the house in it.”
Darkness flowed from the rooftops, black and sticky like tar, coating the windows and doors, seeping into the foundations to fight the wards placed there by Amber’s great-great grandparents. She fumed at the violation, and at the same time, the magic chilled her inside and out.
Detective Simon, being a non-magical human, couldn’t see the darkness either, but he obviously believed her. He gazed up at the house, scowling at it.
Amber had managed to contact most members of the Coven of Light and explain the situation to them. Emails had flown, and the private loop had geared up with ideas, but it came down to one question: “What do you want us to do, Amber?”
Amber was grateful to them for accepting her. They could have told her she wasn’t Susan, they weren’t interested in her problems, or they blamed her for Susan’s death. But the Coven had exuded sympathy and offers of help. They’d loved Susan, and were all for trying to stop the being who’d killed her.
Amber had explained her idea, and the witches agreed it could work. She’d then explained it to Valerian, Sabina, and Detective Simon, who’d all tried to talk her out of it.
“No way are you going in there alone, Amber,” Valerian said.
Amber studied the curtain of black across the door. “I might not be able to get in, anyway.” She hadn’t anticipated being stopped this early and this easily.
“I can get in,” Septimus said.
“But you can’t help once you’re inside,” Amber argued. “What I have to do . . .”
Septimus studied her, keeping his gaze from meeting hers directly. “At least I can get in. I might be able to open a way for you once I’m inside.”
Before anyone could object, he strode up the steps to the porch, his leather duster moving with his stride. He easily opened the door, which didn’t seem to be locked, and walked inside, the curtain of black unmoving.
Three seconds later he flew out backward, his body arcing, and slammed into the ground at the bottom of the steps.
He was on his feet, unhurt, before Kelly could reach him, his blue eyes flashing grim anger. “Or maybe not,” he said.
“So what now?” Detective Simon asked. “If that death magic is strong enough to keep out a vampire, especially an Old One vampire, how are we supposed to get in?”
“You don’t,” Amber said. She slowly climbed the porch steps, picking up the damp newspapers and setting them neatly onto a patio table. She noted the scratch that she and Susan had made in the porch floor dragging home a new sofa last year. They’d been meaning to sand and repaint the floor but never seemed to get around to it.
Amber stood in front of her closed door, the original ordered all the way from New York in 1880. The door had weathered time and several refinishings. It was carved and polished oak, and very, very solid.
My door. My house. The demon could cover it in death magic, but the wards that had been woven into this house were also woven into Amber. She carried a part of the witches who had made this place inside her. She’d never truly thought about her connection to the place before, but she felt it in her bones now.
Amber put out her hand and turned the doorknob, pushing open the door. The death magic parted with a squishing sound to admit her.
“Amber,” she heard Sabina exclaim, then the door slammed behind her, cutting off Sabina’s voice.
The house lay in absolute silence. Even if Amber hadn’t been a witch, even if she hadn’t seen the death magic, she would sense something terribly wrong. The living room was quiet, the furniture filmed with dust, because neither she nor Susan liked to dust, and always put it off as long as possible.
The usual scent of dried flowers and spices was muffled. The kitchen still bore the dirty coffee and teacups they’d used when she’d sat here nights ago and told Adrian her troubles while covertly studying his honed body.
Amber went out to the hall and began to climb the stairs. A dim glow came from the tower room, filtering all the way down to the base of the staircase. The second-floor landing was littered with debris from the tornado-like wind the demon had ripped through the house the night she and Adrian had fled, but no demon strode down the stairs to find her, no sound came from the upper rooms.
In the shadows of the landing, Amber knelt and removed Ferrin from the pocket inside her jacket. He lay motionlessly on the hall rug, his glittering eyes meeting hers. Amber silently removed her small bags of crystals and looped them around his body, gently tightening the drawstrings so they wouldn’t fall. When she finished, Ferrin lowered his head and glided away, silent as mist.
Alone now, Amber resumed her climb. A stair creaked under her foot in the silence, but no one came to investigate. She slowed her breathing, trying to calm and center herself, readying herself for magic.
When she reached the next landing, a man emerged from the tower room and slowly descended toward her. The silhouette was like Adrian’s—tall, broad-shouldered, honed, but the light from above glistened on red hair. He must be Tain, the youngest Immortal.
Amber stopped, heart pounding, her hand on the railing, and waited. Tain continued toward her, in no hurry, not afraid Amber would run away. She felt the strong life magic in him, but it was tainted and strange, and her fingers tightened on the banister.
Tain stepped off the last stair and stood in front of her. His eyes were a deep and soulful blue, and he bore a small pentacle tattoo on his cheekbone, which in no way marred his attractive face. His expression was filled with a sadness so deep it had become ingrained in him.
Tain lifted a bandaged hand and traced Amber’s cheek with his exposed fingertips. “You are lovely, witch. I knew you would be.”
His touch moved across her lower lip, and it was all Amber could do not to recoil. “Tain?” she asked softly.
“Adrian did not want you to come. He was afraid for you.” Tain ran his fingers over her lips again. “He was right to be.”
Amber shivered. She remembered the conclusions she’d drawn in Alaska, that Tain would be even more dangerous than the demon. Looking into Tain’s eyes, she knew she was right. Tain had strength like Adrian, but somewhere in the last seven hundred years, he’d gone completely insane.
His next words confirmed it. “I wish I could make your death clean and quick. Painless. But it must be a terrible death. We must make Adrian unable to bear the grief of it.” Tain’s blood-c
oated fingers slid to her hair. “If it helps, know that your pain will end mine and the pain of everyone who suffers the world over.”
Amber refused to cringe from his touch. Worse than a madman was an altruistic madman, who talked himself into believing that torture and murder were for the good of all.
“Is Adrian all right?” she asked, keeping her voice as steady and normal sounding as possible.
The sadness in Tain’s eyes increased. “He suffers. He begins to understand.”
Amber’s heart squeezed in fear. “And he’s up there, is he?”
“Yes.”
Tain did not try to stop Amber as she pushed past him to climb the stairs. Only when she reached the top and entered the room did she hear him follow.
The tower room had been a project of her mother’s. Amber remembered the hours she’d spent up here as a teenager, helping her mother strip the walls and wallpaper them. They’d made a cozy nook where Amber and Susan could read under the window while her mother sewed on the other side of the room.
After their mother’s death, she and Susan had removed the sewing machine and put in another sofa and shelf of books. Just before Susan died, they’d thought about remodeling the room, so they’d taken the furniture out with the exception of an old kitchen table, which was still there, spattered now with blood.
Adrian stood against the wall across from the table, his arms over his head and bound with large chains. He was naked, his body so covered with blood and deep gashes that not a clean piece of flesh showed. He was resting his head against the wall, eyes closed, but when he heard Amber’s step, he jerked his head up, nowhere near asleep.
“Amber. Get out of here.”
“Nice to see you, too,” Amber said. “Where’s the demon?”
Adrian glared at her, his dark eyes filled with power carefully contained. “Not here. I want you gone before he returns.”
Amber went to him. She touched the chains above his head, thinking of a spell she knew that made bonds weak, but she’d never used it before. She’d need time and a place to sit calmly, neither of which she had at the moment. “Only if you come with me. I can try to break these.”
A huge spark laced through the chains, a powerful spell of electricity that shot through Amber’s body and sent her to the ground. At the door, Tain lowered his hand.
“I need you both to stay,” he said.
Amber remained seated on the floor and gathered her knees to her chest. “I have friends waiting outside,” she told Tain. “They could take you to Adrian’s house, where you’d be safe. The demon can’t go there.”
“I’ve already tried that approach,” Adrian told her.
Amber pressed closer to him, finding comfort in the brawny curve of his calf and the bend of his knee. He was so strong, even chained up and beaten.
“Why are his hands bandaged?” she whispered up at Adrian. “What happened?”
“The demon flays him alive every three days,” Adrian said. “Has for seven centuries.”
His voice was steady but Amber heard the horror in it, which matched hers as she gazed at Tain with new understanding.
Adrian went on. “Tain wants us to help him drain the world of living magic so he can die.”
Amber stared up at Adrian. “You’re joking.”
“No,” Tain said. “He isn’t.”
Amber faced Tain. “You can’t do that. Death magic will take over, no stopping it. Without the balance nothing will be able to survive.”
“I know,” Tain said. “Nothing. Including me.”
“It would be so much easier if you just let us help you get away from the demon,” Amber said.
“I tried that too,” Adrian said.
“No!” Tain strode to Amber, grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head back. “You leave her be.”
“Her?” Amber asked, confused.
“Me,” came a sultry voice. The demon flowed in, in the same form it had been at the club, a black-haired lady of luscious curves now garbed in a black satin, body-hugging dress. “He knows I want what’s best for him.”
Tain went to the demon and gave her a passionate kiss, the demon’s well-shaped hands cupping Tain’s buttocks. Amber looked up at Adrian again, and Adrian gave her a grim nod. Amber felt his touch on her mind then the slight dampening of fear and pain.
She shook her head, eyes wide. “No,” she said quickly. “I need . . .”
Amber needed to be alert and clearheaded, but she couldn’t tell him that, not with the demon turning around to smile at her. Adrian seemed to understand, and his touch vanished.
The demon came to Amber and knelt in front of her. “We meet again, sweetheart,” she said, brushing the backs of her fingers along Amber’s cheek. “Brought a truth spell with you this time, have you?”
“It didn’t work very well then, so why should I?”
“Ah, but it did. I showed you the truth. That I kept my beloved in a cave of ice where no one would ever find him.”
“And then you tried to kill us with it,” Amber said.
The demon laughed. “A harmless joke. I knew even burying you in an ice cave would not slow you for long. You are a very clever witch, you know, to find the cave. But then, I knew you would, so I removed Tain from his danger, and brought him here. At his request.”
“He asked to come to my house?”
“Not specifically. He asked to come somewhere he could find his brother and end his pain. He knew Adrian had been searching for him. Tain was finally ready to see him.”
“And what do you get out of all of this?” Amber asked. “If I understand what Tain wants to do, you’ll die, too.”
“Sweet little witch, I only want what’s best for Tain.”
Adrian growled, “I’ve been through all this, Amber. They’re both insane. Leave it at that.”
Amber somehow didn’t think the demon was crazy. Canny and power-hungry, yes. Insane, no. Tain, on the other hand, gazed at the demon with intensity as he reached down to stroke her hair.
“May we begin?” he asked. “I want to show Adrian what it feels like.”
Amber felt Adrian tense beside her, his body going taut as swirls of power built inside him. Amber slid her arm around Adrian’s muscular calf and hung on.
No way would she sit quietly and let the demon peel the flesh from Adrian’s body. The spell wasn’t ready yet, but she would fight with all her strength if she had to.
“I have an even better idea,” the demon woman said. She stood up and stretched her sinuous body, the sultry length of her dress gleaming in the half-light. She walked to the table and picked up a curved-bladed knife. She returned to Adrian, who regarded her with arrogant contempt. The demon touched the tip of the knife to his lips. “We’ll let Adrian choose.”
Amber didn’t know what she meant, but Adrian clearly did. “No,” he said, voice harsh.
“Yes,” the demon said. “You decide, Immortal. Whose flesh shall I lovingly scrape away this time? Your lover’s?” She touched the knife to Amber’s forehead. “Or your brother’s?” The knife moved to Tain’s hand on her shoulder. Tain gave a whimpering moan.
Adrian’s voice was low and vicious. “Bite me, bitch.”
“Decide,” the demon said more firmly. “Or I kill Amber here and now.”
The knife went to Amber’s throat and the blade nicked a small cut into her skin. Amber felt the tickle of blood on her neck, but she resolutely remained still, not wanting to jolt Adrian into acting before time. Not long now, not long . . .
“Do it to me,” Adrian said. “If you get off on torture that much, flay me instead.”
The demon shook her head. “There would hardly be any fun in that, would there? Make the choice, Immortal. I’ll heal her again once it’s done, I promise. And then I’ll do it all over again. I want this to last a long, long, long time.”
The knife bit a harder into Amber’s neck. She gasped as hot blood leaked to her skin.
* * *
Adrian could b
arely contain his rage. He’d strangle Valerian for letting Amber anywhere near here. Adrian also knew from the glances Amber kept shooting him that she had a rescue plan in mind. His anger flared even hotter.
Amber had no idea what she’d walked into, and she’d certainly lose if she tried to fight, even with magic. Adrian could hold his own against Tain and the demon if it came to a battle, and possibly get away, but Amber would be snuffed out before he could save her.
The demon was being a typical evil creature, torturing Adrian by asking him to choose which of his loved ones would have to suffer. But the demon was stupid. If she’d posed the question a day ago, it would have pulled Adrian apart to answer. But Adrian had seen what was in Tain’s heart, and knew that keeping the demon from cutting Tain again would not help his brother.
Tain had moved into the realm of insanity, and Adrian would have to work hard to save him from the darkness of his own mind. Tain had survived the demon’s tortures before, and he’d simply have to do it again.
Amber, on the other hand, could too easily die. Losing her would be the hardest thing Adrian had ever had to face. Therefore, the choice was simple.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as though struggling with inner turmoil, before he answered, “Tain.”
Tain moaned. “No. It isn’t time yet.”
The demon took the knife from Amber’s throat, licking the blade clean with a long, red tongue. She went to Tain, slipping her arm around his waist. “I’m sorry, love. Your brother has decided it’s to be you.”
“Why?” Tears leaked from Tain’s eyes. “Why doesn’t he help me?”
“Because he loves her more than he loves you,” the demon said. “Undress for me, darling.”
Tain shot Adrian an anguished look and took off his coat. Adrian felt Amber’s fingers tighten on his leg. She couldn’t know, but her touch was keeping Adrian grounded, keeping him sane in this morass of madness.
“When I get the chance to kill you,” Adrian said to the demon, “it will feel so good.”
From Jennifer Ashley, With Love: Three Paranormal Romances from Bestselling Series Page 66