by Lexi Ostrow
“No, he came through with another, likely from the book Kellie was reading because even he couldn’t have the power to cross worlds like that,” Dale said, not asking if Demus was capable such a thing, but clearly curious if he was.
“No, he would not. Alcott, was it your brother?”
Alcott nodded and pointed to the living room, where Dale had tugged Cal’s body before Breena had done her energy thing. Hesitantly, he walked to the other room and shook his head. Brother against brother was never easy, and Cal had not come out alive.
“Did you do it?” he asked Alcott as he returned to the dining room.
“No. Demus did. For failing and attempting to kill Kellie when he wanted her alive.”
“Alive?” What on Earth could my brother need her for? “His name, fucking hell.” His fists clenched so tightly, he felt the crescent shape of his nails digging into his palms. “Did anyone see anything strange?”
“Like some ghostly version of her disappearing with Demus?” Breena asked, leaning against a china hutch.
“Fucking Demus!” He snarled and felt his fangs cut into his lower lip, his anger over ruling his tenuous control. “You’re positive that is what you saw?”
“I’d swear my life on it. Shit, I’d swear Dale’s life on it.”
“I know what he intends to do. I also know there are very few places he can contain someone’s spirit — which is what he stole.” Fuming, he turned to Alcott. “I’ve had enough of my brother. I’ve had it to high hell with his rule breaking, and Huracan all but told me he has no power to do what needs to be done.” He flexed his hands, trying to get the blood flowing in them again. “I cannot hurt Demus, but you can. A brother for a brother.”
The words should have brought him outstanding pain, or at least guilt. They didn’t. He’d known for quite some time his brother was no longer a part of the man that led the other side. Demus was precisely who the name belonged to, a man that was born out of a duty to a position. What his brother was doing was not noble, but it fit rather well with a someone tasked to lead a side of corrupt individuals into a war.
Alcott was staring at him, blankly almost.
“What is the issue?” He hadn’t meant to sneer, but he did.
“I’m uncertain which I find more shocking, that you know how to take me to Kellie and have not done so, or that you’ve specifically told me I can kill your brother as recompense for this and killing mine.” Wrath was rampant in his words, and his eyes narrowed hatefully as he spoke.
“That is precisely what I am telling you. We were meant to be gatekeepers. My brother has decided he would rather be an antagonist. It is time to set things right and make the sides what they were supposed to be once more.” He struggled not to add in that, with one lock broken, the prophecy could be close at hand, and Demus wasn’t fit to lead. He’d initially wanted his warriors to know, but that knowledge could destroy them.
Huracan had been explicit that he return to business as usual. Too bad he hadn’t counted on Demus flying even farther off the rails. Name changes were essential, but they were only to sacrifice a willing Word Speaker from their side.
Kellie is not Demus’. He flinched, realizing he’d thought of her as an object, but it was true.
“I need your answer, Alcott. It’s likely that Huracan can and will kill you if he finds out you were the death blow to his other leader.”
“I have a feeling Kellie would not be terribly happy with me for that choice. But I cannot, and will not, let her remain a part of his plans. I would rather see her safe than see her every day for the rest of my life.” He nodded firmly. “Is that not what Guardians do? Give up their lives to protect their Word Speaker?”
That Alcott was willing to do something of that nature was not shocking. He’d given his all to Ciara, and what little remained, he’d used to train and be ready for his next Word Speaker. A part of him ached to know he was going to condemn Alcott to death, especially since he knew that the pair had found love with each other. It couldn’t matter. This was war, and war took no considerations.
“Very well then.” He turned to Dale and Breena. “I trust that you realize this is not to be spoken of. I will wipe your minds when I return if we succeed so that you are not held responsible or knowledgeable in such an attempt.”
“We should come,” Dale said, taking a step forward.
“No! This is not your battle. Your time will come, if you are alive when the prophecy begins. Until then, you are not to endanger yourself.”
Dale looked as if he was going to argue, so he did the only thing he knew how to do. Paralyzed them in place.
“It will remove itself the moment we leave.” He turned to Alcott. “It is time. Grab onto me.”
Alcott’s grip was bordering on painful as his eyes blazed with witch fire and something he’d not known could be possible. With a blink, he was in Demus’ home. The mirror image of his living room was empty.
“There are not too many places he could be unless he’s slipped between realms. Search the house.” He didn’t wait for Alcott to say anything—the time for waiting was done.
Nothing had ever hurt like the pain lacing through her skull. Kellie didn’t open her eyes as she pushed her right palm against her head, trying to lessen the searing migraine flashing through her brain. That was when she realized the discomfort was partially due to the fact that someone, or something, had hold of her shoulders and was shaking her rather violently. Groaning, she forced her eyes to remain closed, knowing any onslaught of light would make things worse. Her memories were jumbled, and she couldn’t place what had happened most recently. All she remembered was goofing around with Dale and Breena and then a headache.
“Open your eyes, little witch,” a voice growled.
It was familiar, and yet, it was different. Angry sounding and not simply because of the growled words, but as if the speaker themselves was filled with nothing but hate. She pressed her eyes shut even tighter, trying to place the voice even as she willed the pain away.
“Kellie, you have less than a minute to decide how you will die,” the voice sneered again.
Demus. The thought slammed into her with recognition of the situation as well. Her abduction had been the last thing to occur . She had been taken, sort of, and given a choice. A choice that she was not appreciative of in any fashion. Alcott . . . His name was like a painful stab in her brain.
She felt herself jostled again, harder this time, as Demus shook her. She wanted to growl, to thrash out and force him to stop, but she knew she couldn’t.
“Kellie!” he hissed against her ear.
A shudder rippled over her from the closeness of the contact and the warm breath that invaded her senses. Slowly, she forced her eyes to open. She was shocked when a rush of light did not slam into her. Instead, the dark black walls were a blessed comfort, sucking away painful light. Again, she pushed her hand against her head, trying to alleviate the pain.
Mind over matter. Strength over pain. Let this headache pass and fade away. She chanted in her head and winced as headache instead intensified. A brilliant streak of white flashed in her mind, hotter than fire and leaving a trail of pain in its wake. She cried out unintentionally.
“Ahh, there is the little matter of your Wiccan energy magic not working here. The power of three has very little use where we are.” He chuckled. “You’re just going to make matters worse. And while your life is running out of time, I’d hate to have you too incapacitated to answer me.” His tone was playful, and he was clearly enjoying her suffering.
She turned and gasped as she saw the eerie glow of his golden eyes. They radiated light as if backlit from an unknown source. Nothing about him was human, and she couldn’t imagine it ever had been, though she knew better. That was when she noticed the fangs as well. Barely longer than those of the only vampire she’d ever met, his were seemingly sharper.
“You’re a vampire.” The words tumbled stupidly from her mouth as she tried to push herself backwa
rd along the ground.
Demus’ mouth curved into an ugly grin. “Not in the slightest.”
The flick of a pink tongue over his fangs sent a shiver through her.
“However, my brother and I were both given modifications of a sort to stay alive. Fangs were merely one.” He smiled wider, emphasizing the razor sharp teeth. “Now, if you’re quite done making assumptions, I’d like to remind you that you still have one final chance to save yourself and Alcott.”
Somewhere in the back of her very fuzzy, pain-filled head, she felt annoyance. “I already told you that I would not help you. Alcott would rather die than live on your side of the war.” Her back bumped into a wall and she winced as another stab of agony washed over her.
Demus tsked. “I had hoped you would change your mind. So, now I have an alternative option for you. One that does not involve changing loyalties at all.”
She squinted in confusion. Why would he offer her something that wouldn’t benefit him? “You’ll still profit from my decision?”
His smile shifted into something deadly, a shark grinning down its prey from below before striking. “I will, but so will you.” He leaned back against one of the dark walls, the perfect picture of sensuality as he bent one leg and put his foot up behind him. “You can either help me do something and still die. Or you can deny my request and you will die, Alcott will die, and as an added little bonus, so will your cousin Hayley and her parents.”
Her throat tightened at the mention of her cousin. Hayley was a medical tech, useful to the world and hardly older than she was. Her Aunt and Uncle were damn near as perfect as parents as she could have hoped for. Could she really let them die? The favor can’t be worth their lives and if I die either way, at least I can protect them. Panic seized her body, forced her mouth to speak before she could gain control over her words, and thoughts.
“What do you need and how do I know you aren’t lying —that they are totally safe or that you won’t kill them anyway.”
“Clever girl.”
He waved his hand, and the air around them shimmered and then ripped open like a doorway. Almost instantly, Hayley appeared in what looked like the hospital cafeteria, wrapped in her white lab coat and laughing. Bile rose in Kellie’s throat, and she gagged trying to force it back down. He’d found her cousin, there was no doubting that.
With another wave of his hand, the air around Hayley knit back up and returned to nothing more than air. “As you can see, I have most certainly found those you hold dear, aside from your Guardian of course. How do you know you have my word? Well, as for actually killing them if you don’t, I should think my personality is enough alone to assume I have no problems with inflicting death. If you do help, well, guess you’ll have to trust the devil.”
Her heart was thumping so hard in her chest his words were nearly inaudible over it. Processing them was just as hard. Over and over they tumbled through her mind, barely connecting enough to create understanding. Her family was caught in the crossfire. After seeing Hayley she didn’t doubt he would kill them, but could she trust him to leave them be after the deed was done? “How is it possible that you can hurt them? I’m not twenty-seven.”
The laughter that bubbled up from the man was hideous, a glaring mockery of her question. “I am not a pathetic Guardian. I am not relegated to live between worlds. I choose to in order to monitor things. I can harm whomever I wish, whenever I wish. The clock is ticking, little witch.”
She ground her teeth together, suddenly irritated at the use of the word witch, even if it was accurate with Alcott’s powers. “Then what stops you from creating the war on your own?”
“Does it appear as if I’m not trying to? I played by the rules and waited for nearly two millennia. I grew tired of waiting, and that is why my forces have gone on the offensive path. Whether or not I will succeed or be punished by the deity that runs the show remains to be seen.” He shrugged rather carelessly. “So far, I’m undetectable. Gather enough magic users, and spells can be crafted for anything. I’m not too worried yet, but I admit, I’ve grown used to living. Should I be forced to halt, I will. Why do I not destroy all humans? I see no reason. Your kind will not all die when the prophecy comes to pass anyway.”
His words sickened her. Mostly because she could tell from the arrogance in them that he was sincere. Powerful and barely restrained from killing, she truly believed he’d make good on his threat.
I’m so sorry, Alcott. So terribly sorry. I can’t let him hurt my family. It’s not fair. Blowing out a slow breath, she closed her eyes, feeling a tear slip down one cheek. In that moment, she remembered that part of being a Word Speaker was being able to reach her Guardian in a time of crisis. He’d certainly shown up in the condo, but could he hear her now?
Alcott! Alcott, I need your help, please. She screamed in her mind, willing the thoughts to reach him. Five seconds passed . . . ten . . . and she could tell Demus wouldn’t wait any longer. Either she’d done it wrong, Alcott was dead or he couldn’t be reached from wherever she was. At least you told him you loved him. The bittersweet thought floated through her mind.
“I’ll do it. Whatever it is, so long as my family is safe I will help you.”
“What a perfect decision. I can assure you, it’s quite a simple process. Nothing to expend too much energy on. I just happen to need a Word Speaker that is a witch.”
“Stop dangling things in front of me. I’m not a fish to be caught on a line. I’ve agreed to do whatever it takes to save my family, save for joining your side. I’d rather die.”
She hadn’t realized that she’d accepted her death until the words were out. Ever since the journey had begun, she’d known there was a chance of fatality. It had been driven home when they’d been attacked on the street in New Orleans. But to know that she was likely minutes away from facing her end was far more calming than it should be.
Was she simply ready to see her father? Or was she truly as brave as she was pretending to be willing to die for the good she believed in. Dying for the right cause is what my father did. I cannot regret this choice.
“Eager beaver, aren’t you?” Demus flashed out and returned moments later, holding a parchment, a twisted looking dagger and a quill in his hand.
“As you know, my brother and I are capable of changing our name. Being a practicing Wiccan you know that names have power. I was far too cocky in my quest and realize now that sharing my name with my brother, with everyone, was a foolish option. It pains me to lose a name that was the first I picked in this life, but it is inevitable for my survival.”
“And you want me to help you change it,” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Of course. Though you’ll see it’s not quite as simple as an incantation.” His eyes flashed an even brighter gold for a split second. “It will require your soul.”
Her gasp cut through the silence. “I will not be bound to you. Ever.”
Demus laughed once more. “I can see how you would think such. However, it doesn’t steal your soul, just requires the magic of it to work. And before you ask, yes my brother has done this nearly as often as I have. Always a Word Speaker, always from his warriors. I’ve simply found a way to preserve my team in the process.”
Her stomach felt as if someone had dropped a two-ton weight through her body. Dizziness swept through her at the idea that any leader could do that to their soldiers. Squeezing her eyes tight she fought off the bile that threatened to expel from her. The man she was fighting for was no better than the man they were fighting against. Not if he could kill those loyal to him to protect himself.
“I can see you are having second thoughts. Need I remind you that if you do not do this, your family dies?”
Tears slipped down her cheeks, unbidden by her. Helping the devil would hamper people like Dale and Breena. Not helping him would kill her family. Swiping at her cheeks she wished the tears would stop falling. Thankfully she was not sobbing, she wanted to be as strong in the face of h
er death as she could be.
“What do I need to do?”
“It’s rather simple, as I’ve already said.” He dropped the rolled scroll at her feet. “You simply read those words when I tell you too.”
She grabbed at the yellowed paper and slipped the pristine black silk ribbon off. It unfurled slowly, shockingly still crisp despite its old appearance. Beautiful cursive words in vibrant red ink covered the page. “It’s in English,” she was shocked that any magic that old was not in Latin or Greek.
He shrugged. “It is also written in my blood.”
She dropped the parchment out of reaction and quickly grabbed it back up. The words were simple enough, a traditional binding spell from what she could tell. Could I mess it up at the last moment? Would that save everyone except for me?
“You will need to read them fluidly and perfectly. There can’t be a redo and if you fuck up I will kill your family. So don’t even dream of it.”
She hated that he hadn’t read her mind, especially since it was obvious he was in her head somehow. There were two choices — do what he demanded or let people die for her cause. She wouldn’t allow the latter. It tore her apart to think that she was damning any possible edge that her friends had if the war arose, but her family needed to come first.
“Just tell me when to do it. You’ll have your fucking name change.” She growled through tightly clenched teeth.
“Oh, that will become very obvious to you.” Demus leaned down, slamming the wavy knife deep into her stomach.
She screamed as the pain slammed into her. Her breath came out in quick, sharp, pants even as she tried to wrap her hands around the dagger. A bright red gem on the hilt burned her skin as she tried. Another scream tore past her as she quickly let go of the handle. Blood was dripping down from the wound, warming her skin and slowly overtaking the throbbing of the headache. She could still see Demus crouched over her, his eyes dancing with delight.
Death had come for her, and all she could do was embrace it, accept her decision and save those she could. Her body trembled, whether in fear or a reaction to being stabbed she wasn’t sure. Her vision waivered and she looked down to see a puddle of blood beneath her. One that seemed so much larger than it should have been.