The last thing Sera saw before being sucked into the void was the body of the exorcised, dead pishacha demon. Relief was swift, but as she clutched Kyle’s inert body to her, she could only hope that she hadn’t made a horrible mistake.
THE DEVIL YOU KNOW
They landed in a heap on Sera’s living room floor, steam pouring off their bodies. Kyle moaned as agony lanced through his torso. He cracked his eyelids just enough to see Nate leaping up from his spot on the sofa, his green eyes going wide and his mouth falling open into a soundless scream. Following his stare, Kyle looked down to where Mordas protruded from his belly.
Holy hell.
His fingers curled into the carpet at his sides as another wave of searing pain nearly made him black out.
When he’d told Sera to use the weapon on him, he hadn’t realized just how much it would hurt. It felt like his entrails were being torn from his body and consumed by fire ants. It hurt to move. It hurt to think. It hurt to freaking breathe.
“Kyle. Kyle, can you hear me?”
Sera’s voice sounded far away. He blinked and concentrated on her, registering the outline of her head before her features came into sharper focus. He tried to respond, but couldn’t even shape the words with his lips. It was taking all his energy to stay conscious. He managed to utter one word: “Yes.”
“Hold on, okay?”
“What happened?” Sophia shouted, racing into the room with Sam at her side.
“We found the pishacha,” Sera explained to her parents. “Or Kyle found it, and trapped it in his body. It was killing him so he . . . he made me stick that thing in him.”
“He trapped a rakshasa with his body,” Sam said, his eyes cutting disbelievingly between them. “And then made you stab him with that sword.”
Kyle wanted to laugh. Even half out of it, he was aware of how ludicrous it sounded.
“Yes,” Sera said. “I think becoming one with the pishacha was the quickest way to find out how they were getting into the Mortal Realm. Kyle took a risk, though I’m not sure it paid off.” She paused, flinching as her gaze centered on the festering wound in Kyle’s stomach. “We need Dev.”
Within seconds, the room exploded into blinding light as Dev, Mara, and Micah appeared. Kyle wanted to joke about Sera’s epic summoning talents, but all that escaped his mouth was a wet, bloody warble. In the background, he could hear her explaining what had happened in Xibalba. Oddly, the presence of the deities lent him some clarity. Or maybe he was becoming numb to the pain spreading like molten lava across his middle.
A familiar person loomed close.
“Heard you trapped a rakshasa with your face,” Micah said as he stooped to examine the wound.
Vaguely, Kyle registered that the Sanrak looked exactly as he had four months ago, when he’d seen him last—like a young choir boy. Kyle’s mouth cracked into a smile as his uncooperative tongue pushed the words from his mouth. “Hardcore . . . Azura . . . Lord.”
“If you say so.” Micah laughed, his nose wrinkling as a shadow of concern passed over his face. He nodded to Dev and Sera, who joined him on the ground.
“Tough day?” Dev said, passing his hands over Kyle’s sides with a crooked grin. “You must be the only immortal who’s ever decided to catch a demon using himself as bait.”
“Keep . . . interesting.”
“I’m going to need help to remove this.” Dev pointed at Mordas, careful not to touch it. “The sword will not relinquish its hold so easily.”
Dev’s gaze shifted to Sera hovering on Kyle’s other side. “You’re going to have to be the one to remove it,” he told her. “None of us can touch it.” He drew a breath, his stare sliding to where Sophia and Sam stood, and then flicking to Nate, who was still crouched on the sofa. “It will not be easy to do or to watch.”
Sophia followed his eyes and hissed through her teeth at the sight of her son. “Nate! You shouldn’t be here. Go to your room right now!”
“Mom, I can help.”
“I will ground you for the rest of your life if you don’t move this instant,” she yelled, throwing her hands up in aggravated frustration.
Nate paled, but stood his ground. “I can help.”
“Nathaniel Caelum, so help me—”
“The boy is right.” The voice was Micah’s. Every head in the room swiveled to him. “I’ve been teaching him. His gifts are like nothing I’ve ever seen. His healing abilities, in particular. They may prove useful.”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed at the deity who had been her partner through several lifetimes. “He’s half mortal. How could his abilities rival those of Lord Devendra?”
“Kyle is an Azura Lord,” Micah responded, not even flinching at the look in Sophia’s eyes or the scathing tone of her voice. “He may not respond to Lord Devendra’s curative powers. But your son is not solely of Illysia.”
“Micah may be correct,” Dev agreed in a soft voice. Sophia’s lips thinned to the point of nearly disappearing, but after a moment she nodded curtly. Dev was one of the Trimurtas, after all, and even if she disagreed, as a Sanrak, she was oath-bound to serve him.
“Nate,” Micah said. “Come over here.”
Kyle met the boy’s eyes as he crouched. An array of emotions was visible on his face—including horror. Kyle grimaced. At least kids couldn’t hide their true thoughts. “Hey . . . little man,” he wheezed, trying to reassure him. “Should . . . see other guy.”
Nate’s grin was watery. “Hopefully he’s dead. Because you look like you got creamed.”
Micah took Nate’s hands and put them on either side of the wound. Kyle flinched at the contact. The entire surface of his flesh felt as if it were on fire, and even the slightest touch sent ripples of agony through him.
“Focus on what we’ve been learning,” Micah whispered. “Push your energy out and let it connect with him. Let your energy surround him.”
Nate nodded and closed his eyes. Kyle drew a shuddering breath as he felt the boy’s consciousness intersect with his own. It felt like the softest fluff. Using his gift, he focused on Nate and bit back a weak gasp. The boy was bathed in an incandescent aura, more like light than flames. It was not a color he’d ever seen before.
A Sanrak’s deifyre was silvery white. The Yoddha had golden deifyre. Sera’s was the color of the sunset. But Nate’s aura was a shimmery silvery hue tinged with the palest pinks and blues. Iridescent, almost. The boy’s mortality was a part of the whole, weaving through his Sanrak form, but there was something else there, too. Something indescribable. Its beauty rendered Kyle mute.
Just then, a brutal surge of pain ripped him from his thoughts and he glanced up, focusing once more on the inhabitants of the room. Sera’s fingers were wrapped around Mordas’s hilt, scarcely touching it, but the barest press still made his back arch like a bow.
“Hold him down.”
Kyle registered Dev’s voice as Mara and Sam took hold of his feet and Sophia took up a position at his shoulders.
Sophia’s eyes bored into his, flooded with compassion. “It will be okay,” she whispered, brushing damp curls out of his face. He didn’t know if she was saying that for his benefit alone, or for her son, who knelt a foot away, eyes tightly closed. Kyle suspected that it was probably for both of them. He swallowed and fought to control his shallow breaths.
Dev squeezed his wrist. “Okay, this is it. We can’t do this without you.”
“Wait!” There was another flash of light as a deity appeared. This one, he felt on every level. Kira. His heartbeat spiked in response, making Dev’s fingers tighten on his wrist.
“You cannot be here,” Dev growled.
Kira’s dark eyes flashed to his, a tempest brewing in them. “And who are you to command me?”
“You know very well who I am. And Kyle needs to be as calm as possible.” Dev paused as if choosing his words carefully. “Your presence is not conducive to that.”
“You do not control me,” she hissed. Her back arched like that of a fe
ral tiger about to defend its young. Kyle could feel the vibration of her power buffeting him in waves. There was something else, too, just under the surface. She wanted to be here, not for any other reason than to be near him. He blinked and licked cracked lips.
“She . . . stay,” Kyle ground out. “Be fine.”
They both turned to stare at him, and after a second, Dev nodded. Kira knelt at Kyle’s right shoulder, her fingers skimming over the skin at the base of his throat. Her touch didn’t make him wince as the others had. He focused on it instead of the pain. Tiny frissons of electricity raced beneath her stroking fingertips, reaching from his collarbone to his toes. She had come, not Darika.
Even in his half delirious state, he knew that Sera was right—he had to make a choice before things got out of hand. It wasn’t fair to either of them.
If he made it out of this alive, he would.
He nearly passed out as Sera’s fingers curled more securely around Mordas’s hilt, the black blade clinging to his insides as if reluctant to let him go. His entire body seized and bucked. It took all the strength of the immortals restraining him to hold him down as Sera pulled on the weapon. Pain exploded along his veins like an electric charge. He could feel Micah’s and Nate’s healing power, but it was nowhere near a match for the excruciating current barreling through his body. It was as if the blade wanted to cleave his very soul from him.
Sera groaned, her head falling back and her hands trembling violently on Mordas’s hilt. Her emotions were written on her face, but more than that, he could feel them barreling through her. Kyle realized that she, too, would be experiencing every sensation of his. The weapon connected them like a bridge between their souls.
Though it paled in comparison to the pain rocketing through him, he also felt the depth of her caring for him. He also felt her love for her family, and the tense thread of fear that coiled through it all—the fear of loss, and the fear of what she was. What she would become. It was weirdly humbling. Her journey had been so harrowing, and yet she faced it with courage and determination. She may have been terrified, but she didn’t let it stop her. Sera never let anything stop her.
Not even him.
His back jackknifed upward as she yanked on Mordas’s hilt.
Sera cried out and released her hold, her voice breaking on a sob. “I can’t do it. The pain is . . . too much.”
Kira bared her teeth. “Then think about what he’s feeling.”
“Don’t you think I know what he’s feeling?” Sera shot back, wheezing. “I feel it. Every brutal second. If you think it’s so easy, why don’t you give it a shot?”
“Fine,” Kira snarled. “I will.”
Micah lurched forward. “No—”
Kyle opened his mouth to stop her, but he wasn’t fast enough. Neither was Micah. The second Kira’s fingers touched Mordas all the energy was sucked out of the room. Lights popped in their sockets and sparks flew. Kira’s body was propelled across the room, crashing through the wall into the kitchen.
“What happened?” Nate whispered, his eyes round.
Micah exhaled. “Deifyre and Mordas don’t mix.”
“What happened to her? Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” Micah assured him as Sophia moved toward the smoking frame of the goddess. “It was only the hilt. If the blade had touched her . . .”
“Sera,” Dev said gently, indicating the mark of Xibalba on her palm. “You will need to summon the power of that rune to control the sword.”
“You don’t understand. Mordas wants that part of me . . . the darkest parts.” Her breath caught in her throat. “I wouldn’t know how to do it.”
“You need to will the sword to release,” Dev added softly. “It feeds on energy. Offer it something more.”
“Offer what?” she said.
“Power.”
She recoiled, as if struck. “I’m not about to bargain with a sword forged in the bowels of Xibalba.”
“You are the only one who can do it, Sera.” Kyle focused dully on the voice that had spoken. It came from near his feet—Sera’s father. Sam continued. “You’re not negotiating with it. You’re simply asserting your will as its master. As a goddess of all three realms, it will bend to you.”
She balked, her eyes meeting Kyle’s and falling away. “I can’t,” she mumbled, so quietly that no one else could hear her. “I don’t want . . . anyone to see me like that.”
He knew what she meant. She didn’t want her family, Dev, and the other immortals to see her caught in the throes of the Dark Realms. But it was the only thing that could save him. “They love you, Sera. No matter what. And I trust you,” he wheezed, reaching for her hand.
Kyle closed his eyes. He knew what she was terrified of. She didn’t want to lose more of herself to Xibalba than she already had after their recent trip. And Kyle could never ask it of her, no matter the cost to him.
It hurt to breathe. Mordas was already draining him. Maybe it would be best to just give in. Another Azura Lord would take his place, and he’d be free. Free of his ties to Ra’al. Free of the memories of the mother who had sought to murder him. Free of all of the self-doubt and wanting to be accepted.
“Sera,” he said. “You don’t . . . have to.”
“He will die if you don’t,” Micah said to her, sending him a glare that was the opposite of the Sanrak’s usual tranquil expression.
“Die?” she choked. “But he’s immortal.”
Micah’s expression was grim. “Mordas doesn’t discriminate. Kyle will return to the fabric of the realms.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Kyle rasped, feeling his strength fading with every breath. “She doesn’t . . . have to do it.”
“Yes, she does,” Nate said fiercely, his green eyes flashing as he turned to his sister. “Kyle is your best friend. He went to Xibalba to find me when no one else could. He would have died for us, and you know it. We owe it to him to try.”
Sera’s face went pale, but she resumed her position at Kyle’s side. “Nate’s right. We can’t let him die. I won’t.” She nodded at her brother. “You ready to do this?”
“Yeah.” Nate pressed his hands to Kyle’s sides once more and closed his eyes, summoning his healing abilities. The boy was strong, there was no doubting that. Kyle already felt a blissful numbness settling over his torn flesh.
Kyle braced himself as Sera grasped Mordas, the connection between them yawning open again. Surprisingly, the pain wasn’t as terrible. He felt feeble, as if the blade had sapped his strength. Dev raised his hand to place it on Sera’s forearm, and Kyle could feel the immediate surge of strength funneled through her body. Not just strength—but also love and devotion, courage and integrity. The bond between the two of them filled Kyle to the brim.
“Do it,” he muttered through gritted teeth, clamping his own hands around Sera’s. Tears leaked from his eyes as his best friend laced her fingers through his.
“Don’t you let go,” she whispered.
“Won’t ever.”
Kyle drew a breath and held it as Sera’s hellfyre flared, no longer the color of a blazing sunset but rather a dark garnet red. He could feel the power blasting into the sword and felt it start to give in to her compulsion. She was strong, powerful. No one else could have commanded Mordas to relinquish its victim—no one but Ra’al or one of his progeny.
The scream that tore from his bowels matched hers as Mordas ripped loose from his gut, carrying sticky tendrils of graying flesh with it. Sera flung it to the side, her hellfyre’s color waning.
“It’s out,” Kyle wheezed, and registered Dev’s uneasy look. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re not healing.”
Micah glanced down at the raw mess of Kyle’s intestines. “It may take a while.”
Dev shook his head as if he could see something that Micah could not. “No, his flesh is dying. The wound is a mortal one—the blade was holding the seam of the injury together.”
“What does that mean?” Sera
gasped. “You have to fix it.”
“I cannot.”
Nate shoved forward. “I want to try.”
Micah grasped the boy’s arm, stalling him. “We do not know what it will do to you. His father is—”
“I know who his father is,” Nate said. “I also know who he is. And who I am.”
“What do you mean who you are?” Sam asked.
“I feel it inside, Dad,” he said. “Telling me how to help. I can do this.”
“Nate—” Sophia stared at her son with round, fearful eyes. Her voice shook. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” he said with a jaunty smile. “I promise to live to give you as many gray hairs as I can manage.” Her lips wobbled in an answering smile as she nodded, her face ashen.
Nate grinned at Kyle and winked. “I got your back, bro.”
Wrinkling his nose, he pushed past his sister to press his hands directly to the gaping wound. Kyle felt nothing but slight pressure—but he knew it would take a miracle to heal him now. Black dust had already crusted the edges of his wound, though Nate didn’t seem to care. That pale, opalescent light burned again beneath his fingers, becoming incandescent as Nate’s power filled the room.
In disbelief, Kyle could feel a tingling as the edges of his wound threaded together. Nate was doing something that no god could do—he was healing dead Azura tissue. Even Dev looked astonished.
Nate slumped backward as the light faded, collapsing into Micah’s arms.
“Is he okay?” Kyle asked urgently, pushing himself up to a sitting position. To his surprise, he felt no pain at all. He glanced down at his stomach. It was completely healed, the reddish tinge of the flesh there the only indication that he’d ever been injured.
“He’s fine,” Micah said, earning a collective sigh of relief from Sera’s entire family. “Just exhausted.” The Sanrak blinked in wonder at the sleeping boy in his arms, his voice an awed whisper as he met Sophia’s watering eyes. “I told you he was special.”
Dark Goddess Page 16
