“I don’t know,” he replied. “I have a hard time trusting it will be something simple. I have this odd feeling things are about to get a little hairy.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing. “You know, we can leave if you’d like. This is a lot to take on.”
“Are you kidding?” Charlie asked with a small laugh. “Harley is having way too much fun with all of this. If I were to have you leave now, she’d slit my throat in my sleep.”
“You’re damn right I would!” Harley said as she came back into the room with a tall purple pillar candle in each hand. “We don’t get much excitement around here these days. This is awesome.” She set the candles down on the table and took a seat next in the chair next to Charlie. “Your girl here is a lot more powerful than she realizes. She’ll be able to do this, no problem.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Dez replied.
“Well,” Charlie said, “Harley and I have to run into Kingman today to pick up some things for the house. That will give you two the time and, more importantly, the quiet you need to concentrate on what you need to do.”
Dez turned to Vegas who was sipping his third cup of coffee. “Are you staying?”
“If you want me here, I’ll be here," he answered. "However, if you want to do this alone, I can go find something to do.”
“No, I want you here. It might be boring though.”
“We’ll just be bored together. Wouldn’t be the first time.” He smiled at her warmly and took another sip from the blue ceramic mug.
“I’m going to go take a hot shower and change into some comfortable clothes,” Dez said as pushed her chair out from the table and stood. “Thank you, guys, for everything. I didn’t expect to be invading your space for so long.”
“Oh,” Harley replied, “think nothing of it. Go! Take your shower. We will be leaving shortly and you guys can get started.”
With that, Dez turned and headed down the hallway.
“This is bullshit.” It had been three hours since Dez sat down to start meditating, and no matter how much she concentrated, she wasn’t getting to a calm mental place. Although her words came out steady and quiet, Dez was ready to lose her mind with frustration. She sighed and opened her eyes, ready to give up for the day. “It’s bullshit, simple as that.”
“What’s bullshit?” Vegas had taken up a piece of real estate on the floor, lying flat on his back with his eyes closed.
“This!” She gestured first toward the candles and then at her head. He turned on his side and opened his eyes to meet hers, greeting her with an arched eyebrow and a smirk.
“Every time I get even the slightest glimmer of something, it just falls away. I think I would be happier if I couldn’t feel it there at all. I am so close. It’s right there, I just can’t hang on to it.”
Vegas pushed himself up into a sitting position mirroring her own, legs crossed under one another.
“Okay,” he said, sounding supportive but still cautious, “close your eyes again.”
She did as he asked and after a moment, she felt his hands lightly grasp her own. His touch alone brought her simmering anger to a halt.
“Take long, deep breaths.”
“You sound like a yoga instructor,” she scoffed, opening one eye to peek at him. His eyes snapped open and locked on hers. Damn it.
“Eyes. Closed.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied playfully, closing her eyes again.
“Long, deep breaths.”
Deziree gave in and let go. Starting at the top of her head, she imagined each muscle, one by one, flexing and then completely relaxing, releasing all of her tension. She felt her limbs becoming heavy, giving in to the release. She pictured every stress she carried smoothly flowing out of her body, pooling away from her where it could no longer touch her.
“Visualize that space, the void.”
Dez did as he instructed, picturing herself standing there in the endless black. Everything around her was silent, except for the hypnotic sound of their matched breathing. She allowed the rhythm to let her sink into a trance, and before she knew it, she rest of the world melted away, leaving nothing but her own mind and the sweet, minty scent of lavender.
She opened her eyes again, fully expecting to see Vegas sitting in front of her. Instead, she found herself in the ether, surrounded by the void she had been imagining. She glanced around, looking for signs of life but was greeted instead by more of the same nothingness. Right off she noticed it was much easier for her to reach out with her mind. Rather than feeling strained, it felt natural.
Effortless.
She envisioned her reach as a pool of oil stretching and spreading outward as far as she could imagine. A few presences registered on her radar, but none with the magickal signature she was hoping for. She briefly felt the presence of a demon’s mind and made a quick mental note to go out hunting later.
She kept searching, but without knowing exactly what she was looking for, she felt like a blind person suddenly expected to find their way around Manhattan. Although they didn’t have a strong presence and she barely felt them as her own mind brushed against theirs, she could feel thousands of humans, each giving off a slight hum, but no complex emotions. She assumed it was what it felt like when a human slept. Without anyone to teach her how to use her ability, everything was one best guess after another.
“I do believe you’re looking for us.”
The voice came out of nowhere with no warning, booming all around her and in her head. It was distinctly feminine, but had an undeniable power behind it. Dez spun around to the left, then back again to the right, but saw nothing. There was no discernable source of the voice, but there was no mistaking its presence either. Dez stopped moving and waited for the female to speak again. A few silent moments passed with nothing.
“Hello?” she finally called out, feeling a little stupid for talking to herself.
“I am here.” This time the voice wasn’t so loud and didn’t ring through Dez’s head. Thankful they wouldn’t be having their whole conversation like that, she decided to start the dialogue.
“Who are you?”
“That’s a question for the ages. Once we were legion. Now we are few.”
“The Daughters of Eris.”
“Once,” the female voice replied simply. “We have not gone by that moniker in a few centuries. Some would be insulted to hear you use it now.” Although it wasn’t as loud, Dez still couldn’t pinpoint where the voice was coming from. It seemed to be all around her.
“Why can’t I see you?”
“You see what I want you to see,” the voice explained. “We may be few, but we’re still powerful beyond your comprehension. For instance, if I wanted to appear to you as a child, I could.”
Suddenly, Dez heard a noise behind her. She spun to find a young girl, maybe five or six years old, skipping toward her. She wore a white sundress with little blue flowers all over it, matching white shoes, and her socks had little blue ruffles at the top. She wore her curly brunette hair up in pigtails, one on either side of her head, each held in place by a slender bow made of blue satin. A red balloon bobbled in the air, its string being tugged back and forth with each skip forward the little girl took. The girl stopped skipping a few feet away from Dez and just stared at her for a few brief moments before speaking again. Dez found the sound of the obviously older female voice coming from the little girl slightly off-putting.
“If I wanted to appear as an animal, I could.”
The little girl started skipping again, her pigtails bouncing the whole way. Halfway through a step, she dropped down on her hands and knees, and her body morphed into another shape entirely. Where the girl once skipped along, a snarling tiger had taken her place, stalking around Dez in a predatory fashion.
“Or a monster,” the voice continued, echoing in Dez’s head.
The tiger took a few steps toward Dez and started to morph again. The animal went up on its hind legs and shifted back into the shape o
f a person. This time, when it was done, Deziree Davanzati was standing face-to-face with herself, staring into jet black orbs where her crystal blue eyes should have been. A wicked smile worked its way across the face of Dez’s shadow self as it started to walk around her. Dez felt like she was being hunted by herself and the feeling was unsettling.
Okay, so this isn’t going to be a warm fuzzy meeting.
“I’m not a monster,” Dez ground out between clenched teeth.
“The jury is still out on that one, child,” the woman replied.
Dez’s doppelganger walked around behind her and when she came back around the other side, Dez was no longer looking at a demonized image of herself. Instead, a strikingly beautiful woman stood in front of her. Although Dez was sure she’d never met this woman before, there was something undeniably familiar about her. She appeared to be young, in her mid-twenties, despite the shock of bleach-white hair peeking out from beneath the edge of her thick, blood-red cloak. Tattoos of various runes peppered her face, and beneath heavily shadowed lids, her eyes glowed silver. She moved with a grace Dez had only seen previously in vampires. It was a fluid motion, almost as though she were floating instead of taking steps.
“So, you are she? The hybrid seen in the mists. The one who could change it all.” Disgust dripped off of every word the woman spoke. The woman’s hatred was quickly confirmed as she continued speaking. “Part human, part filth. Whose spawn are you?”
“Okay, first,” Dez said, pointing a finger at her own chest, “not filth. I am nothing like my father. Second, before I answer any more questions, who are you?”
“I don’t believe that follows standard etiquette,” the woman replied. “Might I remind you, you sought me out.”
“Fine,” Dez replied bitterly. She was getting the sense she wasn’t going to get any information unless she played along. “My father is Asmodeus.” At the mention of his name, Dez thought she saw something, a tiny betrayal of recognition, flash across the woman’s features.
“Ah, that makes sense,” the woman replied, obviously trying to brush it off. “He had a tendency to, shall we say, get around.”
“I killed him,” Dez answered flatly, watching for a reaction to the harsh news. The woman chuckled as soon as the words were out.
“No, child,” she stated, shaking her head. “You didn’t.”
“Check your facts, lady,” Dez replied. “He’s gone.”
“Oh, you’re right about that. He is gone, but he’s not dead. Far from it, in fact.”
“What?” She thought sure the entire nightmare with Asmodeus was completely over. The woman laughed when she saw the look of astonishment on Deziree’s face.
“Oh, child, you’re good, but you’re not that good.”
“Don’t call me ‘child,’” Dez snapped, the condescending use of the word bringing the malevolence out in her. “Two people have called me child and it didn’t end well for either of them.” The woman put her hands up in a gesture of surrender and Dez relaxed slightly. “So, if he’s not dead, then where is he?”
“Back down in the pits of Hell, I suppose.” The odds of him making it back out of Hell were slim, but she thought it was no longer a worry at all. The disappointment must have been plain on her face because the woman continued, this time more tenderly. “Don’t be angry. There is exactly one weapon which can kill a prince of Hell, and it’s not ready yet.” That little tidbit piqued Dez’s interest.
“Weapon? What weapon?”
“What is it they say nowadays? No spoilers?”
“But you know?” Dez had no patience for the woman’s riddle-filled bullshit.
“I do, but it’s not yet your time to know,” the woman replied.
“Okay, rewind,” Dez said. “What did you mean when you said you saw me in the mists? What mists?” She couldn’t imagine this chick meant the mists.
“The mists of time,” she replied. “My sisters and I have been watching, waiting and watching, for the one who would either save us all or damn us all.”
That did it. That one piece of information convinced her of their power.
Not even Cassandra could peer into the mists of time. She wasn’t nearly powerful enough. As far as the covens knew, there wasn’t anyone left who could. It was a talent which had been lost since long before her time.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Save you or damn you?”
The woman went back to walking in a slow circular pattern around Dez, as if she were studying her like an animal in a cage while she spoke.
“Your future has many uncertain paths, each with the potential to cause ripples in the mists, each with a different outcome, each with a different future. This is no different than the way it works for any other being’s imprint on the mists, but yours has the potential to change the world. It all comes down to your choices at the right moments in time.”
“That’s cryptic,” Dez replied with a raised eyebrow, not even trying to conceal her aggravation.
“The mists show us only the ghosts of possibilities, not specifics. Asking for more than that is asking too much. When the time is right, you’ll know. However, unless I am mistaken, which I never am, you aren’t looking for us to know your future.”
“Well, I wasn’t,” Dez said, knowing she wasn’t getting any more answers on that subject. Then she mumbled to herself, “I kind of am now.” Dez took a deep breath, and then continued. “I heard a rumor about you ladies, and I am here to clear it up. If you’re powerful enough to look into the mists of time, then I am assuming you at least have a rough idea of what went down last August.”
“Yes, the gateway was opened and a mass of foot soldiers spilled out.”
“Right,” Dez replied, wondering just how much the woman knew and if this whole conversation was just her way of playing games. “Anyway, I heard you might be able to get rid of them all at once.”
“You know, hybrid,” the woman said, “I find it interesting that you speak of them as if they are not your own kind.”
“I’m not one of them,” Dez replied matter-of-factly. “I don’t murder innocent people.”
“No?” The woman waved her hand and an image appeared before Dez, as if a movie were playing on an invisible screen. Glimpses of moments in time, moments in which Dez took down one demon after another. “What about them?” the woman asked indignantly. “You do not consider them as innocent people?”
Dez felt as though she were going to be sick to her stomach. One by one, a shot to the head here, a broken neck there. Nearly eighty people she had casually snuffed out without much thought about who they were in their previous life, the life they had before a random demon decided to squat in their body.
And that’s the difference.
Dez pushed down the regret and sadness at seeing those images and replaced them with resolution. She knew she was right. She did what she had to and she did it without hesitation because that was the only way to win this fight.
“They were already dead,” she finally replied, ice in her voice. “I couldn’t save them. The demon inside had already done its damage.”
“I suppose,” the woman replied with a shrug.
“Look,” Dez snapped, irritation and impatience finally winning over, “there’s no reason to be a bitch. From what I gather, we are on the same side, regardless of lineage. I’ve done my best to send them all back, but it will take me forever to find them all, and in the meantime, they are wreaking havoc on the humans. Regardless of what you think of me, we have the same goal. I see no reason why we can’t work together.”
“Fair enough,” the woman conceded. “There is a way, but it requires the blood of a prince of Hell.”
“The blood of a what now?” If Dez’s jaw had dropped any harder, it would have gone through the floor. “You already know he’s gone, so why bother with all of this?”
“He’s gone, but his blood remains.” Dez stared at her blankly for a moment before realization wash over her.
“Me.”
“Your blood can be used to channel the magickal link between all the foot soldiers,” the woman explained. “With the link in place, the spell will essentially rip the demons from their host bodies and drag them back down to Hell.”
“Not to sound like a pussy or anything, but exactly how much blood are we talking?”
“All of it.”
“So, you’re saying I would have to die?”
“There is a chance you would survive,” the woman replied. “But yes, the odds of your death being the result are significantly higher.”
“No fucking way.”
“You would condemn the humans to suffering so easily?” the woman demanded, anger flaring in her silver eyes. “Yet you claim you’re nothing like your brethren.”
“What if I choose to just keep fighting them? I’ve already sent close to a hundred of them back, and the same goes for Vegas. We’ve already made a decent dent.”
“Is that what you think?” the woman asked with a laugh. “How many of them do you think escaped through the gateway?”
“I don’t know,” Dez replied. “A few hundred?”
“Try a few thousand, maybe more.”
Dez cocked an eyebrow. The number was definitely higher than she’d realized, but nothing she and Vegas couldn’t handle, especially with the help of Kade, his guys, and Jacobs Sachs, the rabbi supplying them all with bullets dipped in holy water. And what if it doesn’t work and I just end up dead, leaving all the demons continuing to roam among the humans? Leaving Vegas with all of this to deal with on his own was not something she was willing to do.
“I think I’ll take my chances,” she replied coolly.
“You’re making a grave mistake.” Anger was spilling over her every feature.
“It’s not a mistake. It’s a choice. You said all this destiny shit boils down to what choice I make.”
“You’re making the wrong choice,” the woman retorted without missing a beat.
“You think I’m making the wrong choice,” Dez replied, becoming more pissed off by the second. “Right? All of this is part hypothesis. You don’t know this path is wrong, not for sure. You’re just assuming I can’t take care of Cassandra’s mess, and that’s what this is. Cassandra’s mess. I shouldn’t have to die to fix it.”
Speak of the Devil Page 7