Thrall

by Jennifer Blackstream

  “He doesn’t need someone with a tattoo,” I said. “He could likely possess any human he wants to, since humans in general aren’t trained to guard themselves psychically.”

  “But possessing a human for him would be like staying in a 1-star hotel,” Arianne muttered. “He’ll want someone Other.”

  “In which case,” I continued, “it will be harder, but still doable, as long as he doesn’t choose someone too powerful. Anyone with a tattoo would be easier. As would possessing someone he’d possessed before, even without the tattoo.”

  Peasblossom tapped Liam’s jaw to get his attention. “Remember the house analogy?”

  It had been two minutes ago.

  “I do,” Liam said seriously.

  “Well, think of possessing someone he already possessed before like a thief breaking into a house, then leaving the basement window unlocked. Second time getting in is much easier.”

  “Can the person…lock the basement window again?” Liam asked.

  “If they realized it was unlocked, yes,” I confirmed. “But most people won’t notice. Unless you routinely check your psychic defenses, or have some reason to suspect the window is unlocked, then the thief wins. And in this case, the thief has the ability to make the homeowner forget they were ever broken into. Maybe even psychically discourage them from checking that basement window.”

  Arianne stood. Blessedly, the academic discussion of possession seemed to have given her the time she needed to get her emotions under control. At least, she didn’t look as if she’d erupt at any second. “I’ve called someone to collect Charity Moghadam’s body. I’ll see that he gets a proper burial.”

  “Good.” Liam nodded. “How do we track Prower, then?”

  Arianne clenched her hands into fists, then forced them open and headed for the door. “He’s gone back to the astral plane. There’s no body to track, no way to force him to come back. He could be anywhere.”

  “There’s no way to predict who he’ll take next?” Liam asked.

  “Like you said, the people we knew of that had tattoos are gone,” I said, frustrated. “Stavros is the only one left, and he’s under wards at Suite Dreams.”

  “Can we use him as bait?” Liam asked.

  Peasblossom clapped her hands. “Oh, I like that idea!”

  I liked that idea too.

  “There are benefits to him taking a temporary form,” Arianne added as we all made our way back to Liam’s truck. “Completely possessing a thrall takes time and a ritual. It’s not a decision to be made lightly. Even if he planned this, if he knew he was going to die, he’s not strong enough for that. Yet. But he’ll recover quickly. More so if he has help.”

  “If we trapped him in Stavros’ body, that’s two birds with one stone!” Peasblossom crowed. “We can gift wrap him and send him to the Vanguard!”

  “No,” Arianne interrupted. “We do not need the Vanguard. I will punish him myself. Sorceress to sorcerer.”

  I glanced at Liam when she said that. It was difficult to read his expression in the darkness as we walked to his truck, even with my better than average night vision. However he felt about it, he didn’t say anything on the drive back to Suite Dreams.

  Arianne entered the hotel first, leading us to the front desk. None of us bothered with disguises now that the cat was well and truly out of the bag.

  Just having that thought made me look around, as if Scath and her pouch o’ Majesty would suddenly appear behind me.

  It could happen.

  “Stay here,” Arianne ordered. “I’ll need to adjust the wards on the elevator to make certain Prower can’t ride any of you down to the wizard.”

  Liam stiffened. “He could be inside one of us?”

  “Unlikely,” I assured him. “Arianne looked at us in the truck. But, yes, he could be here in the lobby. It’s a public area that doesn’t benefit from the same wards. But it’s unlikely it would be you,” I added. “Shifters are hard to possess. You’ve got a guard dog on patrol, so to speak.”

  Liam arched an eyebrow at my choice of words, but didn’t comment. “If Stavros is bound by the contract, he won’t be able to say much.”

  “If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Stavros wouldn’t have entered into a contract without negotiating,” I said darkly. “He’ll have worked out a way to say what he wants. And he already offered to tell us.”

  “Like when he basically told us who the Emperor was by pretending he was talking about himself,” Liam observed. “I have to admit, that was clever. He probably did it with Prower’s blessing. Told him he’d draw suspicion away, knowing that if it came down to it, he could tip us off to who he really was.”

  True to her word, Arianne didn’t take long to make the arrangements. She returned and ushered us to the elevator down the hall from her office. Unease rolled down my spine, leaving shivers in its wake. There was something unsettling about the way Arianne watched me approach the elevator, her dark eyes unfocused as she watched her wards react to me, scanning for any astral hitchhikers.

  “So you knew Prower well,” I said lightly as the elevator doors closed. As much as I hated to bring him up again, it was best to get this particular conversation out of the way now. If Arianne was going to have an emotional meltdown, I didn’t want it to be in the same room as Stavros. Chaos presented far too many opportunities for escape.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice clipped.

  I waited, but she didn’t add anything else. “How—”

  “Ms. Renard, I don’t expect you to know how the world of sorcery works, but let me assure you, there are few societies within the Otherworld that take producing heirs as seriously as my people,” she said bitterly.

  “I know of a lot of Others who take continuing their line very seriously,” I said. “The sidhe—”

  “In the world of sorcery, you are not expected to have one child,” Arianne interrupted coldly. “You’re expected to have a minimum of seven. And if you’re not lucky enough to birth seven girls in a row or seven boys in a row, then you must continue having children up to fourteen. Do you understand?”

  Ouch. I tried to tell her with my sympathetic facial expression what I was pretty sure I’d never be able to say verbally—at least not without interruption.

  “Families in the world of sorcery meet at summits once a year. I hated them. My parents dragged me to every single one. They had every intention of letting me choose my own spouse, and I was so grateful, until—”

  This time, she cut herself off. My heart ached at the sudden pain in her eyes.

  “When they saw I would not be happy with any man, and I would never…make a choice they would find satisfactory, they stopping asking me. And they stopped waiting.” Her eyes narrowed. “That’s when they introduced me to Richard Prower.”

  “You said they hated him,” Peasblossom said, her voice soft.

  “They did. Everyone did. Prower was from a time when Britain was still colonizing new lands, sending its citizens out to exert their supposed superiority over others.” She stared into space, as if looking into the past. “I don’t know why he fixated on me. But it was the last straw. I saw my father’s dreams one night, and I knew he intended to marry me off to Prower whether I was willing or not. So I left.”

  “You changed your name,” Liam guessed.

  Arianne gave him a wan smile. “Indeed.” She lifted her chin. “When I was sure I had the power to fight should my parents come looking for me, I started this place.” She gestured around her.

  The elevator doors slid open right on cue, as if the gods themselves appreciated the drama of the moment. I stepped out of the elevator with a new understanding of Arianne. Why her wards were the best. Why she’d made her fortress a hotel instead of a house, or a castle. She didn’t just want security and safety for herself. She wanted everyone to have it. And she was slowly, but surely working toward that goal.

  To his credit, Stavros seemed to sense immediately that his circumstances had become
significantly more precarious. When Arianne swept into the room, all traces of humor vanished from his face. He looked at me and Liam in turn, and I met his stare. I let him see what was on the line. Our determination that this would only end one way.

  The wizard watched Arianne approach with the wariness I felt when Peasblossom reminded me how much she loved me out of the blue.

  “Prower,” Arianne hissed. “He’s fled his body. You will help me find him.”

  “Of course,” Stavros said easily. “Release me, and I’ll help you find him.”

  “No,” Arianne snapped. “You will tell me now.”

  Stavros hesitated, but only for a second. He narrowed his eyes. “You have seen what binds me. It is no small risk to my own life for me to help you. Release me, and I will try. Keep me prisoner, and you can find him yourself. If you can.”

  “I can find him myself,” Arianne ground out. “There is no one who can hide from me in the Dreamworld.”

  “Not forever,” Stavros agreed. “But how long will it take you? Considering he knows you’re looking for him, which will give him an advantage when he hides from you. And what will he manage to accomplish in the meantime? Who will be his next puppet?”

  “You are in no position to bargain,” Arianne reminded him. “You betrayed him. If you don’t talk to me, I’ll remove you from the protection of my wards.” She gestured to his tattoo. “With that marking on your body, Prower should have no problem making you his next puppet.”

  Stavros’ mouth twitched up at the corner, but he wisely held the grin from his face.

  “You put that in the contract, didn’t you?” I guessed. “He can’t make you his thrall.”

  Stavros shrugged. “I may have seen that I had some protection. He can’t kill me, either.” He sighed. “Though of course, once he’s really considered the terms, I’m sure he’ll figure out a way around that. So as you can see, it’s in my best interest to help you find him.” He met Arianne’s eyes. “But only once you’ve guaranteed my freedom.”

  “I can make you talk.” Arianne raised her hand, and again I didn’t need my third eye to know she was holding a spell. Probably something nasty. And painful.

  “No, you can’t,” Stavros retorted. “If you try to force me, if I’m not free to be as manipulative and careful in my wording as possible, then I’ll die before you get the information. That I promise you.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “If your information helps us find Prower, we’ll let you go.” For now.

  Stavros looked at Arianne. “I want her word, too.” He looked at Liam. “And his. Everyone here must swear it.”

  We all swore, but Arianne looked very much like she intended to kill him at a later date. If Stavros did get out of here alive, he’d run if he knew what was good for him.

  “Did you see the shrine at the new fight club?” Stavros asked.

  I frowned. So he had deduced we’d found the club. Not much of a leap since that was where the Sanctum had killed Stafford and left his corpse. “Yes, we saw it.”

  “It was my idea,” Stavros said. “The Emperor clearly felt he was not on the level he deserved to be. Egos like that can be dangerous when fed. So I fed it, and waited for the beast to grow too fat to move. He was already very powerful, already used to manipulating the astral plane as if it were no different from rearranging office furniture. Deification was the next step. And after all, what is a god if not simply a being with great power? The power over life and death?”

  “Why would you give him so much power?” Liam asked. “You were his slave, why would you give him more power to lord over you?”

  “Blood and bone,” I whispered. The pieces fell into place.

  “What?” Liam asked.

  “Blood and bone,” I repeated. “The base of what we are.” I looked at Liam. “Ancient races used blood and bones in magic. It’s the oldest magic. That’s why it was used in offerings to the gods. And in some cases…”

  “Transubstantiation.” Arianne stared at Stavros, and a grudging respect filled her eyes. “You manipulated him into accepting the worship. You tricked him into giving the transubstantiation his blessing.”

  Stavros grinned. “I did.”

  “What does that mean?” Liam demanded.

  “Transubstantiation means the blood and flesh that were offered to the god—Prower—on that altar became Prower’s body and blood,” I explained. “Not just symbolically. Literally. He accepted the offering, and he gave the ceremony his blessing.”

  “So?” asked Liam.

  “So the blood on that altar is Prower’s,” Arianne said softly. “As much as if we took it from his true body.” A wicked smile spread over her lips. “I can use it to summon him. We’ll make a circle around his altar and summon him there.”

  I remembered the jar on the altar. “Liam. What did Vincent say about the altar? Did he tell you what the jar was for?”

  Liam frowned. “He said it was…” His brown furrowed. “Something Latin, anima mea?”

  “A soul jar.” I stared at Stavros. He’d planned this all along. The wizard winked at me. “We can use that jar to hold him. A sort of artificial thrall. Or, rather, a prison.”

  “We need to get blood from that altar.” Arianne left the room, marching back to the elevator like a hunter who’s spotted wounded prey. Liam and I barely made it into the elevator in time before the doors slid closed.

  No one said anything in the elevator, each of us seemingly lost in our own thoughts. I shuddered as I thought of the altar and what had been done to turn it into something powerful enough for us to use against the Emperor. Stavros had done this. He’d sacrificed lives just to set this up. To get his freedom back.

  I needed to make sure he didn’t get to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

  We exited the elevator and rushed down the hall only to come to a dead stop when the sorceress in front of us did. I grunted as I tried to stop in time to avoid running into her, rocking back on my heels as I tried to regain my balance.

  “Iman, what’s wrong?” Arianne asked.

  It wasn’t until she moved that I spotted Iman standing near the front desk. She was crying, fat tears sliding down both cheeks. Arianne hushed her, sliding one arm around her wife’s shoulders.

  “Come on, love, tell me what’s wrong.” Gently, she guided her crying wife away from the lobby, pulling her down the hall to her office. She gave me a look as she passed by, and I nodded. We’d give her a minute. If she needed to stay with Iman, Liam and I could go retrieve the blood sample alone.

  “Poor Iman, she looked devastated,” I said, leaning against the front desk.

  “I’d like to know what’s got her so upset,” Liam said.

  The girl at the front desk put down the papers she’d been stapling. “One of her patients just passed away.”

  “Oh, no. That’s awful. What happened?” I asked.

  The girl’s dark brown eyes were sad as she came closer to where we stood. “There was a car accident, and a girl was badly hurt. She needed an emergency heart transplant. Iman had a coma patient at the hospital who could donate, but the parents hadn’t signed off on taking her off life support yet.” She nodded toward the hallway, three of her thin black braids sliding over the shoulder of her suit jacket with the motion. “Iman had been working with them, trying to find some sign their daughter’s mind was still there. She’s already told them it’s not, but they wanted her to check one more time before they agreed to the transplant.”

  “That sounds incredibly stressful for everyone.” I sighed.

  Liam tilted his head. “If it’s such an emergency, shouldn’t she be leaving? I thought she had to touch her patient to make the connection?”

  The girl shook her head. “Oh, no, she’s not going. She just got back. It’s already done.”

  I stiffened. “She was just at the hospital?”

  “By herself?” Liam demanded.

  “Connecting her mind to a coma patient?” Peasblossom squeaked.

&nb
sp; The girl at the front desk—Crystal, according to her name tag—widened her eyes at our reaction. “Um, yes?”

  “I hate coincidences,” I groaned.

  Liam was already running, and I hurled myself after him. I was not a runner, but even I could maintain a sprint from the front desk down the hall to Arianne’s office. As soon as we rounded the corner, I spotted Arianne’s office door—slightly ajar.

  Her wards wouldn’t activate with the door open.

  We were three feet from the room when I heard another door close—sounding as if it had come from inside Arianne’s office. I tried to remember if there was a closet, or something else with a door that might have made that sound, but I couldn’t remember.

  Liam hit the doorway first, with me right on his heels. I knew right away something was wrong when Liam skidded to a halt. I looked ahead of him and gasped.

  Iman lay on the floor. Blood dripped from a wound on her head, and her eyes were closed. The amethyst statue of Morpheus I’d given Arianne months ago sat on her desk—smeared with blood.

  The sorceress was gone.

  Chapter 25

  “Iman!”

  I dropped to my knees beside the telepath. Peasblossom shot off my shoulder, landing on Iman and squeezing her eyes shut in concentration, stabilizing her while I put my hand on Iman’s forehead, calling my magic.

  “Sana,” I hissed.

  Liam ran around me, sniffing the air as he tried to find the hidden door Arianne had escaped out of. I shut him out, shut out everything as I concentrated on Iman. I guided my magic over her wound, probing gently. The blow had been violent, but it wasn’t a lethal blow. The skull was fractured, but I didn’t feel any shards in her brain. Just cracked, not splintered inward. I closed my eyes, feeling the injury as I pushed my magic deeper, trying to be as gentle as I could.

  All the while Peasblossom gripped Iman’s neck, her magic keeping the telepath stable while I worked to heal her injury.

  Across the room, Liam ripped books off the bookshelf, hurling them to the floor as if he were trying to dig through it to the wall beyond. He shoved at the heavy furniture, but it didn’t budge. If he wanted to, he could push that bookcase into the wall, so I knew he was holding back. Trying to open it without breaking whatever mechanism might open it.