by D. D. Miers
Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside, and Dr. Stevens burst in.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded.
I smiled from my splayed position on the floor.
“Art therapy,” I said.
“She accessed the Relic.” Yasinda pointed her finger at me.
“That’s not possible,” said Dr. Stevens
“That’s right,” I said. “Because it’s a figment of my imagination. Isn’t that right, Dr. Stevens?” The Relic drawing pulsed in my hand and suddenly his face faded and I saw beneath the façade. Terrak. He was impersonating Dr. Stevens. Or he was Dr. Stevens. Or maybe there never was a Dr. Stevens.
I moved my legs to get them under me. I pushed up and steadied my shaking body with my hand against the wall. With one hand, I folded the picture into quarters and stuffed it my bra.
Yasinda sprang forward but Stevens/Terrak stopped her. He pointed at my hands. I hadn’t even noticed. The edges of my fingertips had changed color, matching the color of the relic’s moonstone. Holy fuck. I was actually channeling the relic. Or it was channeling me. Either way something big was happening.
“Wait,” he said. “There is another way.”
“Get out of my way,” I said in my most menacing voice. “Or don’t and we’ll see what happens.”
I was bluffing. I didn’t know what I could actually do with the Relic drawing right now, but I hoped the threat was enough to hold them back.
Neither one could make sense of the sudden shift in my demeanor, and this gave me the precious seconds I needed. I took two quick steps, grabbed the keycard clipped to Yasinda’s pocket, and sprinted out the door.
I didn't look back because the scrambling footfalls of the hounds of hell followed me.
Chapter Nineteen
Terrak and Yasinda followed after me as I sprinted down the hall. With all pretense stripped, I had to make an escape or face my demise. Because there was no way in hell I’d survive after today.
My heart pounded as my rubber-soled slip-ons squeaked in my scramble to the nearest door. I clutched Yasinda’s keycard with desperation, hoping for the chance to use it. But a glance over my shoulder told me I had precious little time to accomplish the goal. Yasinda moved with the speed of a cougar and closed in feet from me.
At the first door where I swiped the keycard, the indicator light in the electronic lock turned green. But before I could pull open the heavy door, Yasinda slapped her fist on my shoulder and spun me to face her.
Her eyes glowered with rage and triumph.
In our previous encounter, she had defeated me completely. I barely walked away with my life. But I had two things she didn’t—a lack of arrogance about my abilities and nothing left to lose.
The shock of her backhand across my jaw threw me into the door. Yasinda grabbed my T-shirt and pulled me forward to grab the Relic from the spot between my bra where I’d secured it. When she couldn’t break it free, a flame of red swelled in her hand as she flared her magic. She flung her hand back and cast the red toward me.
Lightning fast, a swell of blue-hued light spread outward from my chest and met her magic. The two forces grated into each other, fighting for domination.
Her need of magic had left her with one vulnerability. She counted on using it. I didn’t.
I balled my hands, shot my arms between hers and jammed my fists into her jaw. She fell backward, and her magic dissipated into nothing. I pulled her back to me and swept my leg behind hers. But she grabbed me and we tumbled. We rolled on the floor, and her white-blond hair tossed wildly over my face as we fought for supremacy.
Terrak ran toward us, blade in hand, but another flare of light shot out through the paper in my blouse and blocked him.
Yasinda rolled to sit on top of me, and this time conjured a swell of green. She cast and the magic bounced off another shield created by the Relic. She roared and her hands looped around my neck menacingly tight.
“If you won’t die by magic, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Yasinda pressed her fingernails deep into my trachea, blocking my air supply. She’d placed her knees over my arms and the panic settled into my chest. Bit by bit, my conscious was disintegrating and my hands lost their strength.
Right now, I needed a hero. And the only option was me.
No, Abby. You will not die like this.
Fight.
Fight, dammit!
Every muscle memory Reagan trained into me came into play as I took the last bit of strength I had and flailed like a snake, bucking my hips. My right arm broke free first and I shoved off her knee with my hand.
I wrapped my hands around her neck, as this became a game of who would lose oxygen faster.
Her eyes bulged at the pressure and then she made her mistake.
She swung a punch to try and knock me out, but I caught her arm with my two hands and pushed it into her chest, then pulled my legs around her waist and pushed her over my head. As I did so, I twisted under her, crawled forward, and caught her ankle in my two hands. I pushed it hard so that her heel struck her butt. If I did it right, and if she were human, I would have torn the supporting ligaments in her knee. But not having fought an immortal sorceress in martial arts, I couldn’t be sure.
I sprang to my feet and swung my head scanning for my escape.
But there was none, and I was screwed.
Terrak glared at me as he stood in the middle of the hall. Shadows gathered around him, and the air wavered about him in ripples.
The shit was well and truly about to rain down on me.
The first, second, and third Necros apparated behind Terrak, and he pointed at me. As if he needed to. I’m fairly certain I’m at the top of their “Most Wanted” list.
A spreading warmth flowed behind my back, and the air crackled. A familiar cologne wafted to my nose, and black-leathered arms clenched my waist.
Yasinda twisted and confirmed what I knew.
“Kieron,” she said.
He jerked me backward, and we fell into whatever portal he created with his magic holding me tightly against his body.
The last I heard was Yasinda screaming before the world faded.
With a whoosh, we landed on green grass, or more precisely I landed on him.
Kieron let go and I scrambled off and climbed to my feet, staring at the man who’d failed me.
And saved you too. Shut up, subconscious.
Disheveled and still trying to normalize, I remembered the Relic. I hurriedly grabbed at the spot on my chest where the Relic drawing had been. I panicked when I didn’t immediately feel the edges, but I finally grasped the corner. It has slipped under my arm. I took it out, expecting it to be pulsing the same as it had done before, but now, it looked like nothing more than a simple hand drawn picture.
I shook my head, “No, no, no.” This couldn’t be happening. I reached my hand forward, trying to tug the Relic out of the image as I had done before, but the paper had become simple paper again.
“Dammit! Dammit all to hell!” Just when I had the relic, it left me—again.
Every painful second of the last few months of my life overwhelmed me. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I needed someone to feel it all. To take all of the pain I had because I couldn’t.
I whirled on Kieron. “You!” I spat out at him.
Kieron stood and brushed his hands together.
“Yes. Me.”
“Where the hell were you?”
“Ms. Davenport, we’ve been looking for you across two realms. There were no resources spared.”
“Including Reagan?”
“What does Reagan have to do with this?”
“She’s dead!” Thrown from one world, then to another, and back again. Mocked by the Council, tortured by Terrak and Kieron’s ex.
“Ms. Davenport,” he said. “Calm down.”
“Do not tell me to calm down. You’re supposed to be this epic fucking Summoner and you failed. You didn’t save me. You did
n’t save Reagan!”
“Again, you disappeared. I’ve been looking for you. We’ve all been looking for you.” He put his index finger on the spot above my eyes. “Whatever you got going on in that screwy little head of yours, it didn’t happen.”
“Are you calling me crazy?”
“You are the one ranting at the man that saved you.”
“And failed me. Don’t forget that part.”
The way he stood there with a dismissive look in his eye sparked an ancient rage in me. I struck his face with my open palm so hard, fiery pain shot up my arm. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, enraging me even more. I struck him again.
Only this time my hand didn’t hit flesh. He caught my arm before it landed and expressionless, he held my arm in place.
I opened my mouth because there was something pithy and snarky at the edge of my tongue. But it promptly got knocked out along with my breath by Kieron lifting me and slinging me over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” I struggled as I stared wildly around to get my bearings, but there was no purchase on this mountain of a man to gain my release.
“That’s Lord Blake, to you, Ms. Davenport. And you will keep your mouth shut from here on out.”
Kieron took great strides across the manicured lawn, and I noticed the large water fountain that was part of the garden of his estate. I twisted and saw his enormous mansion looming ever closer. As if I were a sack of potatoes, he stepped up the stairs that led to the patio and the garden entrance of the house.
“Put me down!”
We entered the mansion, and he bounced up the stairs gripping me tightly. In my upside-down world, I saw the doors to the library slightly open and heard the voices of Marcus and Luca at least. But he didn’t stop to their calls and took the oriental carpeted stair quickly and navigated us to the hallway that led to my room.
Kieron opened the door and then kicked it wider with his foot and strode inside with purpose. He tossed me on the bed.
“Stay there,” he commanded, pointing his finger at me.
I opened my mouth to speak something about the impoliteness of pointing a finger at a person, but he glowered at me so angrily, I shut it.
“You stay here until you calm down. And then we’ll talk.”
He turned on his heel with military precision and stormed out of the room. The door shut, and the lock clicked.
I shoved my head into the pillow and the world spun, grew bigger then smaller, leaving me dizzy. I am not Abby but Alice Through the Looking Glass. One pill made me smaller, the other made me tall. And the ones that Dr. Stevens, also known as Terrak, gave me were the most fucked-up of all.
Fuck. Was this real? Was I here now?
I clutched my stomach because bile roiled inside, and I got that sick feeling that spreads through you just before you chuck your cookies. I covered my mouth, willing it all to go away.
Please, please brain. Snap back to normal. Take me to the Real. I didn’t want to be here, betwixt and between, unable to parse what is and what isn’t.
And then the reality of grief hit me. Reagan, the only person in the world who cared about me, who truly cared, was dead.
Vomit rushed through my gut, out my mouth, and splashed onto the gorgeous oriental carpet worth more than a year of my barista’s salary.
Noxious vomit greeted me as I awoke from a cry-filled sleep.
I rolled over and panic hit me as I took a few moments to remember where I was.
Kieron came.
It’s his estate.
Reagan was gone.
It was growing dark, so I reached for the light switch by the door.
The bed sat a little farther than halfway into the room, which was boxy and not large. Just behind me was a tall mahogany dresser, on the left-hand wall a large window covered in burgundy silk drapes. Ahead behind the side of the bed was another window the same as the first. And to the right was the sliding door to a very large closet.
I tore open the closet doors and searched through the clothes for anything that spoke of Reagan. We borrowed clothes often.
I tugged open the drawers of the dresser and found my clothes jumbled and jammed in the lower three drawers. I scooped the contents out after my hands felt hard pieces of jewelry. I clutched a handful and froze. In the center was a necklace, one that Reagan gave me for my last birthday.
It was one of those friendship necklaces, a half a heart with the half the words “best friends” inscribed in the center. But there was something else. I turned the pendant over.
“Always besties—Rea.”
I slumped to the floor with my back against the dresser, and a whimper rose from my throat. The memory of her shoving me into a cavern hit me this time in the full force of a vision.
I didn’t have time to protest before she threw me into a hidden chamber, no bigger than a broom closet.
Drugs, electroshock, the dulling pain of my days in the fake Gordon House didn’t break me.
But this did.
I could barely pull a breath as grief carved me hollow. Like my half-heart pendant. Damn it! I shouldn’t have allowed her to push me into that cavern. I should have stood next to her and protect her. How weak was I that I hesitated, didn’t insist on taking on the dangers?
My heart stuttered, and my legs grew number under me, and I didn’t know if I could move from this spot if I wanted to. Reagan, my best friend, the sister of my heart was gone, and I’m half of a whole and utterly alone.
And it’s my fault.
A click and the turning of the door handle caught my attention. Yellow light from the hallway spilled into the room and then disappeared in the wake of a looming figure.
I looked up at Kieron from my place on the floor, my face tear-stained and gasping for breath.
Kieron stood as still as a rock as if unable to figure out what to do. He signaled to someone. Luca came through the door with a silver tray balancing glasses and a decanter. He looked like shit. Kieron poured a couple of amber fingers into a glass and tossed them down.
He poured two more fingers in a fresh glass and stepped toward me with menace in his gray eyes. Now I had the good sense to get frightened. He was a black sorcerer—a supposed lethal weapon just from uttering a few words. I stepped backward.
“Drink this,” he ordered.
I bumped into the wall behind me, and now his six-two frame towered over my five-three.
He added, “It’ll help.”
Help numb the pain. That’s what he’s saying.
He handed me the glass, and I tossed it in one long swallow. The amber liquid burned as it slid down, and my stomach would not respect me in the morning. But it didn’t take long for the alcohol to spread its particular warmth through me.
“Do you need another?”
“Do you?”
“You’ve been through a lot, Ms. Davenport. More than many expected you’d be able to endure.”
Those words should have made me feel better, but they didn’t. One burning question rested on my mind, and Kieron had not broached what had happened to Reagan.
“You shouldn’t have saved me.” I said as Kieron turned to leave.
“What?”
“I'm not that important! I'm not worth Reagan's life. Don’t you see that? Reagan’s in the hands of people who want nothing but her death. Maybe she's hanging in Yasinda's torture chamber in pain wondering where her buddies are. Hell, she might be dead, but we don’t know because you all have your thumbs up your asses.”
“It was already too late.”
“How can you accept that?” I swung around and met the gazes of Luca, Marcus, Dominic, and Roman who all cast their eyes to the floor. “If she didn’t shove me in that damned cave, I would have pulled her out of there myself.”
“I don’t think so,” said Kieron.
“We do whatever it takes to get her back. Even if that means trading me.”
“Absolutely not,” said Kieron.
“Yes,” I insisted vehemen
tly.
Kieron shook his head. “We can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“For one thing, I’m damned well sure someone is handing off information to Yasinda. I can’t do a damned thing until I find the leak. Otherwise, any action we take she’ll know and be ready for our attack. It’s the showdown she’s looking for, and with how things are now, not just Reagan will be dead. All of us. Two Worlds. Do you get the import of what I’m saying?”
“But I can’t just leave her to Yasinda.”
Kieron put his hand on my arm and spun me to face him.
“You are so goddammed arrogant.”
“Me? Look who’s calling the kettle black?”
“Yes, arrogant. You’ve had what a month—two at most—of training? Reagan has had four hundred years.”
Four hundred years? I mean, I knew the people here were immortal, but I didn’t think of Reagan like that.
“What makes you sure, that you, a mortal, with barely basic training under your belt, could help a woman who’s taken out hundreds of Necros?”
I remained silent.
“Kieron,” said Luca in a warning tone.
“No,” Kieron snapped. “She will hear this and will understand. Reagan was a soldier, my soldier, and she knew exactly the stakes involved in guarding you, that you were the priority. Reagan was well aware that if the enemy captured her, we could not retrieve her.”
"She was that much of a soldier that I didn’t even have to tell her you were the one that had to come out alive. Don’t dishonor her by going on about what you would have done. You have one percent of her skills and could have done nothing.”
“That is where you are wrong.”