Omens (The Dark in You Book 6)

by Suzanne Wright

He jerked again and slapped a hand on his chest. Then he was coughing and hacking like he was trapped in a burning building.

  “Gavril, something’s wrong with him. What do—” Thea cut off as the coughing fit ended. She rubbed her son’s arm. “That’s it, honey, you’re fine.”

  His eyes bled to black as his demon surged to the surface and glared at her.

  “It’s okay,” she told it. “Everything is okay.”

  The demon gave a short shake of the head. “You threatened him,” it said, its voice empty of emotion. “You scared him. You used him. All is not okay.”

  She swallowed. “I did what had to be done for my sake and his own.”

  “Not true,” it argued. Then the coughing started up again. Its whole body bucked as it coughed and gagged and heaved. Then it doubled-over and retched, puking up something black and oily all over the floor at its mother’s feet.

  Khloé stared at the small puddle. It swirled and bubbled and steamed like a potion in a cauldron. But said movements slowly began to fade, and the puddle dried up until it was a mere black stain on the wooden floor.

  Thea backed away from it. “What is that?”

  “Power,” said Enoch. “Extinguished power.”

  Thea’s brows snapped together. “What do you mean, extinguished power?”

  “I mean it is dead power,” Enoch told her. “Something or someone made him vomit up his own personal store of power.”

  Gavril gaped. “That is not possible.”

  “I assure you, it is,” said Enoch. “I haven’t witnessed such a thing before, but I’ve heard of it. Some demons allegedly possess the defensive ability to purge others of their powers.”

  Gavril whirled on Thea. “What exactly happened at the stadium?”

  “Lane used his gift to steal Asher’s,” Thea replied. “Something jumped from Asher into him. I thought it was the toddler’s abilities.”

  Gavril flicked his hand in the air. “He is now useless to me. He’s as good as human. Did you do this to him, Thea? Did you do this to escape the deal we made?”

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t do anything! It was the Thorne kid!”

  Ciaran’s mind touched Khloé’s. Larkin came through for us—she found that Gavril has a Victorian house a few miles away from Harper and Knox’s estate. We’re going to pay a visit to the nearest ghost towns. If you’re in none of them, we’ll check the others.

  Relief fluttered through Khloé. You need to look inside the saloons, she told him.

  Just then, another mind touched hers—young, powerful, familiar. Recognizing Asher’s touch, she smiled to herself. How he’d managed to bypass the psychic shield keeping her from telepathing others, she had no idea. Hey, kiddo, she said, keeping her tone cheery. I’ll come see you soon.

  There was a small movement beside her. And then she could only gape. Asher was there. Yet he wasn’t. His body was partly transparent, which meant she could very well be seeing shit. Either that or he was truly—in some sense—beside her in the crate, smiling shyly at her.

  She glanced at the others to see if any could see him, but none were looking her way. They were observing Thea and Gavril, who were arguing yet again.

  Turning back to Asher, Khloé flashed him a smile and reached out to her brother. Ciaran, what’s Asher doing right now?

  He was sleeping a few minutes ago when we left him at the estate with Meg, Dan, Larkin, Martina, and Beck. Why?

  Because I’m looking right at him.

  What?

  He’s partly transparent, but he’s here. Sort of.

  “What the fuck?” burst out Gavril.

  Khloé tensed as the others crowded the crate, their mouths open wide as they stared at Asher. Only Enoch’s two puppets and Lane—whose demon was still in control—remained far back.

  Enoch squinted at Khloé. “You create illusions, do you?”

  Gavril crouched. “This is no illusion. The boy must have the ability to astral project.” His eyes narrowed, glittering with sheer cunning. “How interesting. He should not have been able to get inside that crate—no one should, whether in astral form or any other. Hello, little boy.”

  “Want Kooey,” Asher said around the finger he’d stuffed into his mouth.

  Gavril’s brows raised. “Then you should stay with us. I’m sure she’d like your company.”

  “Kooey go home.”

  “I’m sorry, young one, but Khloé won’t be going home.”

  The air chilled as Asher’s eyes bled to black. The demon—so unbelievably cold and callous—curved its lips into a dimply smile that held an edge of arrogance. It opened its small hand, and a gold spark flickered to life on its palm.

  Thea gasped. “What’s it doing?”

  The entity looked at the ceiling, and then the spark on its palm became a stream of gold power that punched a hole through the top of the crate and through the roof of the building, sending bits of wood flying through the air … and breaking the containment spell.

  Khloé’s heart leaped and, hearing a chorus of caws, she peered through the hole in the roof. She felt her lips part in surprise. Crows were flying and dancing there, as if drawn by the lingering energy of the power display … or by Asher himself, she wasn’t sure.

  Asher’s form shimmered and then disappeared. The others spun, searching the room with their eyes. Khloé figured he’d returned his astral ass home, but then he reappeared near the bar. Or, more to the point, his demon did. And it was still wearing that arrogant smirk.

  She felt power gather in the air as the others braced themselves to attack. Her stomach sank, her demon tensed, and a shot of pure adrenaline rushed through her. She didn’t know if Asher’s astral body could truly be hurt or not, but she wasn’t about to risk it.

  You guys need to get here fast, bro, she told her twin.

  We don’t know where “here” is yet, he pointed out.

  Just look for the flock of crows. Wasting no time, Khloé snapped out her leg and kicked the crate door open. She thrust out her palms and called to the power humming in her belly. Whips of electric fire lashed her captors, making them cry out and fall to their knees.

  She crawled out of the crate just as a golden wave of pure power swept out of Asher’s demon and crashed into its foes, including the two corpses—hurling them all across the room. Well, damn. Her own entity was mightily impressed.

  She itched to stand at astral-Asher’s side, but it would serve them both better if they remained separate targets—it would divide the attention of their foes.

  Lane ran out of the saloon mere seconds before crows flew through the front door. Their wings flapping like crazy, the birds descended on Enoch, Gavril, Thea, the sentinels, and the puppets before any of them even had the chance to stand upright. Voices cried out and cursed as the crows pecked with their beaks and raked with their talons.

  Enoch batted them away and then surrounded himself with his forcefield. Ugh. He snarled at Khloé as he stood. “You will not survive this night.”

  “Worried that you’ll fail yet again, old man?” she taunted.

  Growling, he pitched several death orbs through the air. She deflected them with her own power, and they harmlessly crashed into the wall, leaving patches of rot.

  The asshole threw more black, smoky orbs at her. She evaded them just as another surge of golden power swept out of Asher. It crashed into Enoch’s forcefield, causing spiderweb-like cracks to form in the construction, but the bastard quickly bolstered it and repaired the damage—

  She winced as a high-pitched sound built in the air, hitting a note so high it threatened to burst her eardrums and once more damage her psyche. Khloé hurled a ball of hellfire at Gavril’s head, and the sound cut off.

  Sensing he was the most powerful of her foes besides Enoch, Khloé plunged her mind into that of the Prime and seized control. “You will protect me and fight alongside me.”

  Gavril didn’t hesitate to whirl on the spot and attack Enoch. He couldn’t pierce the protecti
ve forcefield, but he was able to telekinetically bat away every death orb that came at her. Awesome.

  Unlike Enoch, she couldn’t control more than one person at a time, but Gavril proved to be very good backup. He essentially held off Enoch while Khloé blasted the others with strong currents of electric fire again and again, managing to obliterate one puppet pretty much instantly.

  She inhaled sharply as one of the sentinels all but dazed her with a telepathic punch that made her stagger like a drunk. Bastard. Still, she fought on. At the same time, the crows kept biting and raking, and Asher kept on releasing gold waves of such crushing power it almost took her breath away.

  The combined attack took the two sentinels and the second puppet out of the equation, but Thea teleported to the other side of the saloon and out of harm’s way. Enraged, Khloé’s demon hissed through its teeth.

  Worried that the woman would teleport out of the building and escape, Khloé taunted, “Yes, that’s it, flee and leave the others to fight your battle. Keenan told me what a coward you are. How many times was it that you left him without even a goodbye?” Khloé replicated Jolene’s haughty sniff that could make a person feel an inch tall.

  Covered in bites and scratches, Thea sneered. “Think you’re better than me just because he calls you his mate?”

  “No. I think I’m better than you because I’m better than you.”

  “Bitch.” Her upper lip curling, Thea released a series of hellfire orbs.

  Khloé ducked, dodged, and weaved, but the latter orb connected. She jerked back at the punch of hot pain to her ear. Fuck it burned as the hellfire blistered and ate at her skin.

  Thea laughed. “You won’t be so pretty once I’m done fucking you up.”

  “Right now, you’re no spring chicken yourself.” Khloé retaliated; a flickering wave of electric fire soared toward Thea and lashed her so hard she flew backwards and crashed into the metal crate.

  Even as she fell, Thea flicked her hand at Khloé. A ribbon of ice-cold energy whipped Khloé’s face and sliced the skin like a blade. Fucking ow.

  Khloé tossed several hellfire orbs at the little skank, who teleported away and took cover behind the piano. “Fuck.” Another ribbon of frosty energy came flying at Khloé. She jerked back, but it slashed her chest, ripping her tee and flaying her skin.

  Just then, a ripple of golden power swept up both Thea and the piano. They slammed into the wall, and Thea slumped to the floor, unmoving. Excellent.

  Khloé slanted Asher a quick glance, needing to be sure he was okay, and saw that his demon was still firmly in charge. She also saw its form flicker, and she knew its power—a force that its psyche was too young to adequately wield—was beginning to burn out.

  A death orb came sailing toward her. Khloé’s heart jumped into her throat. She ducked, barely avoiding the orb. It was only then she realized that Gavril was dead. Shit.

  “Oops, did I kill your puppet?” asked Enoch, smirking. “Shame the woman is dead. You could have made her your new pup—” He cut off as Khloé unleased more electric fire. It crackled and hissed as it sailed through the air and covered his forcefield.

  She closed her hand, and the electric fire severed the forcefield in an instant, leaving him vulnerable. Wicked fast, she sprayed him with bullets of electric fire. But all harmlessly bounced off the forcefield he swiftly re-erected. Crap.

  He chuckled. “It won’t be that easy to hurt me, little imp.”

  He and Khloé did the same dance again and again. The fucker always popped up another forcefield in time to protect himself. Khloé hissed, and fury poured through her demon like lava.

  Boards creaked as several figures staggered into the saloon, their movements awkward and clunky, their clothes in tatters, their flesh practically nonexistent—bringing with them the stomach-curdling scents of rot, dirt, and death.

  They began to converge on Khloé. “Hell.” Swearing beneath her breath, she let loose on them in a rage. Flames of electric fire sliced through the air and whipped the corpses, sending them tumbling to the floor.

  Even as she dodged or deflected Enoch’s death orbs, she peppered his puppets with bullets of electric fire, aiming for their brains and eyes. Some bullets hit their marks, but some fucking didn’t.

  Several of the fallen stayed down, useless to their master. Others staggered to their feet and shuffled toward her. Asher’s demon kept Enoch occupied while she attacked the puppets, taking several out of the equation—some took hellfire orbs to the face; some took bullets of electric fire to the brain.

  Undeterred, the other corpses staggered toward her. A few of them tripped over the fallen, but they picked themselves up and kept moving. Worse still, more and more poured into the saloon. Fuck.

  It was like he had the entire cemetery out there, waiting their turn to take her down. There were too many of them, and she couldn’t possibly hold them all off. So many parts of her body ached and burned, and each move she made tugged on her injuries. Her breaths were coming quick—

  A sharp psychic slap shocked a gasp out of her. Her face stung so bad her eyes watered, but she shelved the pain and fought on, trying to pretend she wasn’t tiring.

  She heard a roar of fire outside followed by a guttural hellhound growl. Hope unfurled in her belly. Help had arrived, and that help would no doubt take down the army of puppets who were trying to get inside the saloon.

  Moments later, Keenan dropped through the hole in the roof and landed a few feet away from her. Relief surged through her so fast it nearly made her dizzy. “Thank fuck you’re here,” she said.

  His mind brushed hers, vibrating with rage. “Thank fuck you’re alive.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Seeing his mate alive and well—albeit injured—made something in Keenan settle even as a need for vengeance crept through him and infiltrated every cell in his body. He wanted to haul her to him and kiss her hard, but that could wait. It would have to wait. Even his demon, who was desperate to reach and touch her, understood that.

  He noticed Asher’s partial form wink out just as Ciaran and Jolene teleported to Khloé’s side. The female Prime instantly slammed up her shield to protect them, blocking the barrage of death orbs that came their way.

  Ciaran emitted a powerful blast of telekinetic energy that flattened his targets. Only Enoch, protected by his forcefield, remained on his feet.

  You keep her safe, Keenan ordered Jolene, resisting the urge to wade through the corpses and get to Khloé’s side. He wanted to pile the pressure on Enoch by striking at him from another angle.

  Don’t worry, Jolene told him. Enoch can’t reach her.

  As a unit, they attacked the motherfucker and his puppets. Pure mayhem commenced. Balls of hellfire, death orbs, and ripples of telekinetic power zoomed around the large space. Old elixir bottles smashed or exploded. Tables and chairs broke or splintered. Patches of rot and scorch marks stained the walls and floor.

  The crowd of corpses soon divided. Most headed for Khloé, Jolene, and Ciaran, but the others came at Keenan, attacking with balls of hellfire. One clipped his shoulder, burning his tee and eating at his flesh. Another hit his solar plexus so hard it was like a scorching hot fist slammed into his chest and knocked the breath from his body.

  His demon roared in anger, flexing its fists. Winded and clenching his teeth against the pain of his flesh charring and peeling away, Keenan retaliated with hellfire orbs of his own—his were hotter, more lethal.

  The whole time, he kept a mental eye on Khloé. She was a force to be fucking reckoned with, tossing out waves, beams, and bullets of electric fire—making both him and his demon proud as fucking hell, even as they worried for her.

  Enoch repeatedly targeted her, despite the fact that she was safely behind Jolene’s shield—as if he hoped that by attacking said shield hard enough, he’d eventually crack it.

  The corpses’ numbers dropped fast. The blinded ones slumped to the floor. But, unhampered by pain or emotion, the rest forged onward, no
matter how horribly wounded they were. Keenan could almost taste the sickening scents of rot, blood, seared flesh, charred wood, and burned rancid meat.

  Tossing flaming orbs at the remaining puppets, he inched closer to Enoch and exuded dark pheromones that would fuck with his system and make the bastard feel sick, disoriented, and afraid. It took a few minutes for the pheromones to truly take hold, but Keenan saw the moment when Enoch fell victim to their effects. Sweat beaded his forehead, the color drained from his face, and his hands began to shake.

  His forcefield didn’t falter. Yet. But it would.

  Tanner’s hound charged into the saloon with a throaty snarl and crashed into the crowd of corpses. A millisecond later, Harper, Knox, Levi, and the hellhound rushed through the front door, their expressions hard as stone.

  Tell me the puppets outside are out of commission, Keenan said to Knox as his lair members joined the attack.

  They’re out, confirmed the Prime.

  The air burned hot with the stream of fire that flowed from Knox’s palm, lighting up corpse after corpse. Harper lifted small objects, infused them with hellfire, and hurled them at their enemies’ heads while Tanner’s hound ravaged them with claws and teeth. Levi joined Jolene and Ciaran in attacking with telekinesis—lifting corpses and bashing their heads on the floor or against the walls.

  The air rang with the sounds of electric fire crackling, hellfire spitting, wood splintering, corpses grunting and gargling, and voices crying out in pain or anger.

  Enoch’s puppets stood no chance against so many foes. It was a massacre, really. Finally, all of them littered the floor, along with bits of skull, bone, and brain matter and, of course, the bodies of Thea, Gavril, and his two sentinels.

  Only Enoch remained alive, still safe within his damn forcefield. A forcefield that was finally beginning to weaken. Sweat was pouring off Enoch who, his neck corded and his expression fierce, was clearly struggling to keep up the shield. But he was keeping it up—that was the problem. Even though he’d vomited twice and was obviously tiring, he’d held out.

  Keenan reached out to his Prime again. The bastard’s stronger than I gave him credit for. Look, I know why you don’t call on the flames of hell in front of outsiders, I get why you won’t publicly confirm you possess that ability—hell, we’re in this situation with Gavril because people worry you possess it—but we need Enoch dead.