Blood Ties

by Skyla Dawn Cameron

  The floor was thick with god knows what—excrement and old blood was still my guess, caked on deep and dark that stained my and Melinoë’s jeans. There was a single arched door of thick wood panels and we both rushed for it guided by the light of my phone.

  No handle. No hinges. Melinoë gave it a kick with the flat of her foot and but it didn’t budge.

  She paced, boots clomping on the ground. “Are we at the Hail Mary pass yet?”

  I thought we might very well be but didn’t reply. I set my phone down carefully, balanced on my boot rather than that filthy ground, and gestured her over. We worked to get the rope off our wrists, the light shining from below making the process that much more arduous.

  At least the ropes weren’t tied too tightly and within a few moments we were free.

  “They’re going to torture us,” she said.

  “Looks like,” I said as I lifted my phone again.

  “No magic still?”

  “None. This must be an Aanzhenii thing, to saturate the whole building and even the ground in something that’ll damper like this.” I lifted my hand and worked the nail out of my sleeve, then stared down at the tip.

  There was no taking this back if I did it. He might not even help. He might extract favours I did not want to give if he did decide to assist us. But we didn’t have any other choice.

  “Maybe Dev figured out what they were doing and that’s why he took off,” Melinoë said as she paced. “So he’s out there. Maybe he’ll...I don’t know, find us.”

  My brother, I suspected, was long gone. “I’m going to do something, and I need you to stay near me. And please don’t say anything.”

  “Is this magic?”

  I sat in the chair and peeled back the ripped flap on my jeans, passing her the phone to hold over my leg. “Sort of. But if the Aanzhenii is free to use his power, this should work.”

  “Should?”

  “Good time to pray.”

  “I’m an atheist.”

  I snorted. “Probably just as effective. Here we go.” I pressed the edge of the nail to the flesh of my thigh and took a deep breath, gaze tracing the lines of the Enochian tattoo. I didn’t want to, I wanted to do anything but.

  I let out a shuddering breath and took the plunge, digging in with the nail and drawing two lines on my skin to connect the tattoo.

  The blood welled, rolled, and started to whirl in circles, winding out to follow the lines of the branding.

  Pain pulsed in my leg, a deep agony that ripped a scream from my throat. Melinoë crouched at my side, reaching for the wound, but I batted her hand back. Noise filled my ears, that and the pain making it impossible to even form thoughts.

  Then the air before us rent in half, reality screeching. Melinoë locked onto my arm with a death grip as light played across our faces. A figure stepped through, his wings folded against his back. He looked similar to the one above, though dressed in black leather, his thin fine hair pulled back in a tail at the nape of his neck. His irises were pale gray, almost no distinguishing between them and the whites of his eyes as he peered down at me.

  A slow, wicked smile played across his lips.

  No turning back now.

  Nineteen

  Ashur

  The portal closed behind him and he regarded me. “Elis. You called.”

  His very voice burrowed into my brain and I winced. “Ash.”

  “Five years and you’ve never called on me.”

  “Five years and I’ve never needed to,” I choked out. I leaned on Melinoë, the pressure from using the mark and his presence enough that unconsciousness threatened. My stomach roiled and I swallowed back bile. “We don’t have time—the Brethren of Angels have us. They’re coming to torture us, and my power is blocked.”

  Maybe they were already on their way down, maybe their leader sensed another of his kind—I didn’t know, but the door behind him opened then on creaking hinges. Townsfolk entered the room and torchlight beyond gave Ashur a halo—the irony of which was not lost on me.

  He turned slowly to face them, wind brushing my face as his wings expanded. “Well, well.”

  I didn’t know if he’d draw it out, make me wait, let me assume the worst. I’d assumed so because I attributed malice to any of his actions, though realistically I knew his motivations would never be so human.

  Instead power blasted outward from him, the humans suddenly screaming as flesh burned and flaked from their bodies. He incinerated them in an instant, and it wasn’t hard to see why humans worshipped his kind—they could wipe us out in a heartbeat. The stink of burned flesh filled the air, briefly overpowering the other awful scents. The sudden show of supremacy was enough to terrify any others who approached, their screams fading as they fled down the hallway.

  Ashur turned back to me, bending his tall sinewy frame and offering a hand.

  I ignored it and leaned on Melinoë to rise. The cut in my leg wasn’t bad, but the pulsing pain of the Enochian tattoo was enough to have me limping, blackness threatening my vision.

  “I can take you out immediately,” he said, his voice still grating on the air. “You know what I require.”

  “We’ll walk,” I bit out.

  He tsked me and turned, leading the way through the door to the narrow dirt hall behind.

  Melinoë and I had to climb over bodies to follow. “I have...questions,” she whispered, not taking her eyes from the creature ahead of us.

  It was a lengthy story I didn’t want to tell. “When we get out of here.”

  The lumps of corpses were in even rougher shape than I normally left them, half fried, half gored, all stinking in the already filthy space. The tunnel angled upward, narrow enough that Ashur had to fold his wings and bow his head. There were more shouts, more steps somewhere vaguely ahead, and I could all but feel the gleeful alien energy rolling off of Ashur as he cut through any Brethren approaching. They deserved it and I’d do it myself if I could, but I cringed a little, as any display of power from the Aanzhenii struck me as wrong—I knew how easily it could be targeted in any direction, including at those who did not warrant it.

  The faintest whiff of fresh air brushed my face—we must’ve been nearing the exit. I glimpsed a closed wooden door at the end of the tunnel ahead, one that Ashur blasted open without even touching it, the splinters flying almost in slow-motion outward and striking the humans beyond. More screams, more humans fleeing. As much as I hurt, I picked up the pace, Melinoë and I bursting outside after Ashur.

  I sucked in a much-needed breath of fresh night air that filled my lungs and eased some of the ache behind my eyes.

  The Brethren were baffled, caught between falling to their knees in worship and fear, and rushing to fight the creature that had released their witch sacrifices. With the fresh air came the easing of intensity that had wrapped around me limiting my magic—the farther we got from the building, I believed the more my magic would return.

  The red-tinged net was flung over Ashur, clinging to his lanky form, and I looked up to see a pair of humans on the roof. They didn’t even look at me, the focus entirely on the competing Aanzhenii.

  Ashur turned slowly to peer up at them, reaching up and gripping the net. He wrenched it in half, the thing easily tearing under his grip—it wasn’t meant to hold his kind anyway—and the magic around it blinking out and going inert.

  The humans flew off the roof into the trees, impaled on branches that snuffed out their screams, blood pouring like rain to strike the dirt.

  The ground at our feet trembled, the wrongness of the Aanzhenii compromising the environment. Another figure flew down, the creature from earlier that the Brethren worshipped, and the atmosphere screeched in protest.

  He cocked his head to the side. “You kill my worshippers.”

  “You kidnapped my witch,” Ashur returned.

  I rolled my eyes but didn’t correct them—the Aanzhenii, when they fought, brought absolute destruction and I counted on getting the fuck out of here befo
re they noticed me.

  I urged Melinoë back as great wings flapped, and the remaining Brethren went for the new threat rather than us. We slipped around the building and then broke for the forest. The farther I went, the more my head cleared, and when I called it, magic answered gleefully at my fingertips. I pushed it toward the wound in my leg, focusing what energy I had on sealing the cut. I wasn’t sure if he could track me through the completed tattoo or what, but I hadn’t my dad’s power to speed healing and remove the scar—at least if it stopped bleeding and highlighting the tattoo, I could walk with less pain.

  I didn’t dare call a spell to light our way as we fumbled through the darkness. No idea where the cemetery and our car was, no idea if this was the forest we’d trekked through earlier or another part entirely.

  “Jesus fuck,” Melinoë whispered. “Jesus FUCK.”

  “Hopefully they’ll occupy one another for a while and not come after us.”

  “You’re friends with a—”

  “No,” I cut in, brushing branches in my path to the side and slipping between two trees. Moonlight barely lit our path, but the longer we were in the dark, the more I grew accustomed to it and I could mostly make things out. “Not friends. Not anything but an example of my misbegotten youth. I swore I would never use his help and I never have. Until tonight.”

  “Why did he help us?”

  “He wants something from me.” I wanted to leave it at that and thankfully Melinoë didn’t push—we did have to focus on getting out of here and could save lengthy conversations for later.

  She, being more mobile than me, took the lead and pushed a path through the woods. I searched my brain for some kind of spell, some kind of compass that could lead us to our car—

  My phone. I patted my jeans, my hoodie. “Did you grab my phone?”

  Melinoë stopped and looked back at me. “Shit. I must’ve dropped it when...”

  Couldn’t blame her. “Motherfucker. Yours?”

  She pulled it out and tapped the button to turn it on, but the screen remained black. “Fuck. I swear I charged it last night.”

  “Two Aanzhenii in one place—it probably fried the battery, if not the whole phone.”

  She stuffed it back in her pocket and tipped her head back and looked at the sky. “There’s the north star. Forest was north of town and we couldn’t’ve traveled that long when they dragged us.”

  “So if we go south, we’ll hopefully come out either at the cemetery or somewhere near town,” I filled in.

  She shrugged. “Best I can suggest.”

  I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  The more I walked, the more the pain in my thigh eased until I just had a slight limp. The cool autumn air brushed my skin and the flap of my jeans irritated the wound. No time to wrap it, but I stifled a yelp when a branch flew back and slapped it.

  “I think this is a trail,” Melinoë said, urgency in her voice and her steps increasing. I followed and sure enough, we burst onto a wide trail worn down by years of steps and bike treads. I couldn’t say if it was one we’d been on earlier, but it was something.

  We followed it south, walking briskly side by side. Magic wrapped around me like a cloak, its near sentience suggesting it was giddy to be connected with me again. I wondered if, when my power was silenced, magic had merely been suppressed in me, or if it had been waiting beyond the building for my return. So much, even after all this time, that we didn’t understand, but I’d worry about that later. I was just glad to be myself again.

  Red blinked in my peripheral vision; I slowed my near running pace and looked left, peering in the darkness.

  More red. Little dots, a dozen and then more, growing more and more. Leaves and branches cracked, tiny feet scampering across the ground, spilling like water toward us.

  My stomach dropped.

  “Swarm!” I shouted and threw out crackling electricity in the direction they came from, Melinoë and I turning to run down the trail. Any lingering pain, I thrust aside, and focused on just getting away.

  They sounded behind us, around us, moving through the trees, scampering and chittering. I gave up any pretence of worry—we had to see better to get away from them—and called the same light spell I’d used earlier. It lit our path so we could avoid any pits, any branches. Melinoë ran faster than me, her longer legs taking her farther, and I ran with quick light steps behind her. Didn’t risk a glance back, just threw the occasional barrier of magic behind me to thwart their path.

  Melinoë skidded to a halt suddenly and I bumped into her, lurching forward though her arm came out to protect me.

  There was a swarm in the path ahead, though this time it formed a figure about twelve feet away, like what we’d seen at the subway lockers—something human-shaped, made up of hundreds of the swarm.

  I looked behind me, saw the swarm closing in. They wound through the woods around us, drawing nearer and nearer.

  “Think you can throw up that barrier I showed you without a frame?” I asked her.

  “Won’t we get trapped?”

  “Throwing them off for a few minutes might give me time to work on the rest. So can you?”

  “I would not risk our lives on it, but I’ll try. You’ll fry them?”

  I could, though probably not enough. We just needed a path through, and right now it seemed like the person-shaped thing stepping toward us would be the hardest to get around, but going back the other way would lead us away from the car and possibly toward what remained of the Brethren of Angels.

  Think, THINK, damn it. If only we still had the messenger bag.

  Magic whispered in the air, coming from Melinoë—she tried to throw up the barrier, pushing it outward. The swarm hit it and paused, but then tried to keep moving, crawling up one another toward the top. Particularly skilled magic users could extend that barrier both through the ground and hundreds of feet in the air.

  Melinoë didn’t have that skill yet and the force of them pushing against it had her stumbling back.

  I did, but I had other things to do—I threw jagged electric magic straight through the barrier, sizzling the swarm with each contact. They still came from all directions; I wove the magic in a circle, cutting through the ground, an electrical field rising about two feet from the forest floor. My head throbbed but I kept pushing, and thrust the circle spinning outward.

  Demon flesh sizzled, blue electricity burning through them.

  But there were more. Always more.

  Hope dwindled—whatever the hell we were dealing with, there wasn’t a way past them.

  Then the trees bent and air moaned. I looked to the left to see Ashur leaning against a nearby maple, watching us with amusement. The swarm passed him without a glance in his direction.

  “Are you ready to pay yet?” he asked calmly.

  Fuck fuck FUCK I didn’t want to do this.

  Ashur waited, watching me, grinning faintly which was about the creepiest fucking thing I could imagine.

  But was it more deadly than what was approaching from all directions in the woods?

  “Elis!” Melinoë said, grasping my elbow and twisting to face the approaching threats.

  I closed my eyes and uttered the words I thought I’d never speak. “Fine. Yes, Ashur, I will pay.”

  He tore open a hole in the world then, and Melinoë and I didn’t hesitate run right through.

  Part Three: Slay

  Twenty

  Deal with the Devil

  We stepped into an unfamiliar room.

  It wasn’t what I was expecting. The Aanzhenii were these ancient terrifying inhuman beings and I saw them living in places monsters would. Some other dimension, full of foreign things, like an Alice in Wonderland deal. Through the looking glass.

  But we popped out into an apartment.

  It made sense, of course—the Aanzhenii were stuck in this dimension by all accounts. But I still wasn’t expecting it.

  It was an upper-end penthouse, white marble floors flecked with gray a
nd white walls, very monochromatic. I wasn’t entirely certain it was even Ashur’s, but we were here for now. Beyond the windows was a black night and dots of light of the city. Was this my city, or had he whisked us around the world? No way to tell—I didn’t immediately recognize the skyline, but then I might not from up here even if it was familiar.

  He’d dropped us in a living room, and I was probably dripping blood on the pale gray area rug but I didn’t care. “So what payment do you want?” I asked.

  Ashur spread his creepy hands in a casual gesture that was like everything else they did—almost human but not quite. Like the uncanny valley. “There’s no rush. Take your time. Rest up.”

  I blinked and we were in a different room—Melinoë and me, no sign of Ashur.

  “The fuck,” Melinoë hissed, starting. I was too weary to flinch but was unsettled as well. He’d deposited us in a bedroom decorated similar to the previous room—white and silvery gray, layers of pale colourlessness, overhead lights so bright that shadows were few. A bed topped with white, marble floor, nightstands and a dresser. No personal touches, though—no art, no knickknacks, and I wondered if I’d find anything in the drawers. It was all antithesis of me with the monochromatic designer look, and I wondered if Ashur did indeed live here or if it had been someone’s home. It wasn’t like I expected a throne of skulls, but this was even more unsettling, oddly.

  I limped my way through the bright room to what looked like a bathroom at the back. White subway tile met me when I hit the light switch. Jacuzzi bathtub, gas fireplace, double sinks, water closet. Did Aanzhenii use bathrooms? Next to nothing was known about their physiology and I really didn’t want to spend time thinking about their excretory habits.

  I leaned against the counter and eased off my boots then my jeans so I could better see my thigh. The cuts had scabbed over, still connecting the tattoo. What that meant, I wasn’t sure—I didn’t entirely get how the magic worked. Hopefully it didn’t mean he could now track me anywhere.