Vengeance of the Demon: Demon Novels, Book Seven (Kara Gillian 7)

by Diana Rowland

  Snarling, Pellini yanked the gun from Jerry’s grasp. He appeared unhurt as well, but my heart dropped as I continued my hurried scan.

  “Eilahn!” She sat on the stairs, hands clamped onto her thigh and an aggravated expression on her face. My stomach did a horrible flip at the blood that stained her jeans though I told myself there’d be a lot more if the bullet had hit her artery. I sprinted to the kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel, ran back and pressed it to her wound.

  “Leave. Now,” I growled to McDunn.

  McDunn didn’t have to be told twice. Chances were low that a single gunshot would draw undue attention, especially so soon after the Fourth of July when people still let off the occasional firecracker. But he had a host of other reasons to get the fuck out of the house. He hustled Tessa toward the front door so fast her feet barely touched the floor. Dazed and bleeding, Jerry staggered with an unfocused gaze in a futile search for his gun.

  McDunn yanked the door open and came face-to-face with a startled Tsuneo. “Get her in the car,” he ordered and shoved Tessa into the summoner’s arms. He scooped up the bag of gun parts and moved to grab Jerry.

  “No!” The shout of rage burst from Idris. Fists clenched, he started forward in long strides with Jerry as his clear goal. I didn’t need othersight to know potency rippled over his hands. “No! You’re not taking him,” Idris snarled. “He doesn’t get to hurt anyone else!”

  Shiiiiiiiiit. As much as I agreed with Idris’s bloodlust, this was not the time for it. I pushed away from the stairs and lunged after him, though I knew I had slim chance of closing the distance in time to stop him. As Idris charged, McDunn settled his weight and balled his hands, ready to defend his man, fucktard though Jerry was. Idris was young, strong, and determined, but even with an arcane edge he was no match for McDunn’s training, experience, and size—and his ability to eradicate arcane ability.

  Without warning, Carl stepped from the sitting room, grabbed Idris’s forearm and smoothly blocked him several feet from McDunn and Jerry. “You need to get a hold of yourself or more people will get hurt,” he murmured. Quiet and calm. Typical Carl.

  Pulse pounding, I stuttered to a halt behind Idris, braced for him to shove Carl aside and bull forward. Instead, Idris dropped his eyes to Carl’s hand on his arm then turned his gaze to Eilahn and the blood-soaked towel pressed to her thigh.

  The vengeful rage left Idris like air from a burst balloon. Utter chagrin filled his face as it hit home how close he’d come to putting us all in a disastrous situation. Maybe Carl had a calming touch like Sonny? Either way, he’d stopped a disaster.

  “I’m sorry.” Regret swam in Idris’s eyes. He started to say more, but I lifted a hand to stop him.

  “Hold that thought,” I said, more snappishly than I meant to, but I was kind of on edge. I shifted my attention to the pair by the door. McDunn had relaxed his hands and nothing else. Jerry’s head continued to bleed. “Get out.”

  McDunn grabbed Jerry by the back of the collar, hauled him out and closed the door hard behind him. Heavy footsteps on the porch mingled with a querulous whine from Jerry about how “the fat asshole” had his gun. A sharp smack followed that I suspected was McDunn’s way of telling Jerry how little he gave a fuck. I silently willed him to hit Jerry a few dozen more times—hard. The “fat asshole” had turned out to be one of the best people I knew.

  A few seconds later two cars started and left. “Clear,” Pellini announced.

  “Thanks.” I turned to Idris. “I need to talk to you in the kitchen.” He winced but went without protest. “Do what you can for Eilahn, please,” I said to Carl and Pellini. “I need a few minutes.”

  “Got it covered,” Pellini said. He unloaded Jerry’s pistol and tucked it into his waistband, then crouched by Eilahn as Carl fetched towels. Tessa’s favorites, I noted with dark amusement.

  Idris stood at the sink, back to me as he gazed out the window at the lake. I closed the door and moved to him.

  “I screwed up,” he said, voice thick. “I let my emotions get the best of me and put us all in danger.”

  “Yeah, you did.” I leaned against the counter beside him. “You were provoked, and Jerry is a worthless piece of shit. And that was a terrific apology, but that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”

  He gave me a baffled look. “What then?”

  My heart began to thud unsteadily. I leaned close and spoke low. “I need you to send Eilahn back to the demon realm.”

  He drew back in surprise. “Dismiss her?”

  “It’s best this way,” I said, unable to keep my voice as steady and assured as I’d hoped. “I can’t bear the thought of her getting killed for real.” I didn’t say and I’m not worth guarding anymore. Even though that was a factor in the amalgam of crap that brought me to this point, the decision was far more complicated. I knew Eilahn would never abandon me, whether I was a summoner or not. She was willing to die to protect me. But I was no longer willing to lose her.

  Idris searched my face. “Are you sure?”

  I swiped at a few pesky tears. “I wasn’t before she got shot. But . . .” Gooseflesh rippled over my skin. I’d watched her die once before. That was enough.

  “I get it,” he said quietly.

  A sick ache spread through my chest as the full import of my decision hit home. She’d been with me for the better part of a year, watching my back and perching on my damn roof and decorating my house with outrageous enthusiasm for every holiday. “She won’t want to go,” I told him. “You’re going to have to catch her off guard.”

  He exhaled. “Right.”

  I returned to Eilahn and sat beside her on the stair. A fluffy yellow towel with embroidered roses swathed her thigh. “How is it?”

  “It is a mere flesh wound,” she said. Pellini let out a cough that sounded like laughter though I had no idea why.

  “I hate seeing you hurt.” I wrapped my arms around her.

  She smiled and leaned her head against mine. “I am not certain I would associate with you if you enjoyed it.”

  I laughed, but it felt strange and weak. “This was a flesh wound,” I said, “but what if the bullet had hit something more vital?” I let out a shuddering breath. Stop it, Kara. I didn’t need to convince her or myself. Eilahn opened her mouth to reply, but I cut her off. “I love you. You are very dear to me.” Releasing her, I stood and backed away as grief surged up to drown me. “I’m sorry,” I gasped. “I have to do this.”

  Eilahn’s forehead wrinkled in confusion but only for a second. Through the open kitchen door, Idris worked the dismissal, formed and readied in this last minute I’d spent with her.

  Heedless of her injury, she shot to her feet as the flows wrapped around her. “Dahn. Dahn!” She flung a hand out toward me, pleading and furious. A stench of rotten eggs filled the air, and an unseen wind whipped around us. “Jhivral, dahn!” Please, no!

  I stepped back, tears streaming. “I’m sorry!” I cried out. “I’ll send Fuzzykins and the kittens as soon as I can. I promise!”

  Eilahn let out an inhuman screech as a rent of blinding white light opened in the fabric of the universe behind her. A sharp crack rattled the house, and she and the light vanished.

  Chapter 35

  We got out of there as fast as possible. I didn’t trust McDunn—or Tessa, for that matter—not to call the cops on us once they were clear, but we made it to Pellini’s truck with no issues.

  “Eilahn’s motorcycle.” I scanned the area in dismay. “We need to get it back to the house, and I don’t know how to ride one.” I finally spied it further down the street, tucked between two cars.

  “On the truck?” Idris suggested.

  “Would be tough to get it loaded up without a ramp,” Pellini said. “Plus, we’d need straps to keep it from falling over.” But then he shrugged. “I can ride it. Always wanted to try out a Ducati.”

  “Perfect!” I said and decided not to ask how skilled he was. At this point it didn’t matter since he couldn
’t be worse than Idris or me. Pellini was turning out to have one hell of an eclectic skill set. I handed him the spare key from my key ring while he gave me the truck’s.

  “It’s too bad you can’t take the bike home, Kara,” Idris said with a grimace. “That way Pellini and I could go symmetrize the node in the Kreeger River.”

  “I’ll tag along with y’all,” I said. “That’s an hour wasted if you take me home first.” The itchy crawly feel of my un-showered skin ramped up a notch, but I plastered on an accommodating smile. “Y’all can put up with my stench.”

  Pellini let out a bark of laughter. “Nah, Idris can put up with it. I’ll be on the bike.”

  “You owe me one,” Idris said to Pellini with a hint of a smile. “You up for talking me through another symmetrization?”

  “Sure, but if anyone has to dangle from a rope this time, it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me.”

  • • •

  Pellini hadn’t lied about knowing how to ride a bike. He crammed Eilahn’s helmet onto his head then zoomed off with damn near as much panache as the syraza. After a block he slowed to let us catch up then led the way out of town. To add to Pellini’s streak of being handy in a variety of ways, he also knew a place not far from the bridge where we could rent a boat, which scratched the need for anyone to dangle from the bridge. After anchoring near the node, Idris and Pellini symmetrized while I leaned back, closed my eyes, and thought as little as possible. I especially didn’t think about how I’d lost both my aunt and a dear friend less than an hour earlier. Nope, not one bit.

  Despite the added challenge of working with a valve node in a river, Pellini and Idris managed to finish up in under thirty minutes. As we motored back to the boat rental place I considered how good it would feel to jump into the water and rinse off the surface grime. However, the sight of a water moccasin as thick as my forearm slithering into the river put a hard stop to that line of thinking. We’d be home in under an hour, and my shower was blissfully free of snakes—venomous or otherwise.

  Pellini mounted the Ducati and fell in behind us for the drive home. Idris was broody and quiet, which I understood, but just could not handle right now. In an effort to save what was left of my sanity, I launched into the tale of Angry Chick, Young Thing, Rich Bitch, and the rest of my inmate experience. Much more fun to relate now that it wasn’t an immediate threat, and Idris appeared to enjoy hearing it. He needed the mental break as much as I did. In return he told me about the hijinks that ensued when he and Bryce retrieved the camera from the tree near the Katashi base and ran afoul of a furious squirrel. I wasn’t sure how much of it was true, but it made me laugh, which I sorely needed.

  I started to tell him about Tolya Gresh but sucked in a sharp gasp as an achingly familiar presence washed through me. Mzatal! But how . . . ? He was deeply worried or upset. Had something happened in the demon realm? Maybe strong emotions could bridge the distance in our bond.

  “Kara? You okay?” Idris peered at me in concern.

  “Yeah, I—” My phone rang. Bryce. “Hang on,” I said then hit the answer button for the hands-free. “Hey, Bryce.”

  “Mzatal is here,” Bryce said over the car speakers, voice low and strained. “Where are you?”

  “Wait, what?” I blurted before my brain could get into gear. “Here where? There? At the house?” Well, that explains why I can feel him! I thought in shock.

  Idris stared at me with wide-eyed dismay. The valve? he mouthed. I could only reply with a helpless shrug. Surely Mzatal wouldn’t risk destabilizing the pond valve by passing through it? Yet I couldn’t think of any other explanation for how he could be here on Earth.

  The next voice we heard was Mzatal’s. “Zharkat. Where are you?”

  Idris flapped his hands and then grabbed his head in a What the holy crapping hell is going on, and is he insane??? gesture that I had no trouble translating. I’d have done the same thing if not for the pesky fact that I was driving.

  “I’m less than a minute away!” I said as I punched the gas. “You used the valve?”

  “To reach you. I await you on the nexus.”

  I clamped down on colorful language as I sped along the highway. “Stay put right there!” I jammed the button to hang up in order to better pay attention to driving.

  The instant I disconnected Idris let out a strangled noise. “He must have felt it was worth the risk to stress the valve like that,” he said, aghast as he fought to rationalize Mzatal’s actions. He gulped and shook his head. “I guess he really needs you for something?”

  A lump of unease took up residence in my stomach. What could have driven Mzatal to such an extreme? “We need to barricade that valve,” I said. “And by ‘we’ I mean you and Pellini. I’m going to have to try and explain what needs to be done based on what Kadir taught me at the plantation about creating a barricade seal. As soon as Mzatal leaves we can do that. Otherwise we’re going to have lords dropping in right and left until the damn thing ruptures. Kadir said it would be disastrous, and we don’t need any more—” I cut off my stream of babbling as I punched the remote for the gate, cursing as the thing swung open at a snail’s pace. The instant I had sufficient clearance I zoomed through then remembered Pellini on the bike behind me. “Crap. Pellini has no clue why I’m driving like a maniac,” I said as I raced up the driveway. “Will you explain?”

  Idris said something I assumed was a yes, but it was drowned out by the spray of gravel as I careened to a stop in front of the house. I threw off my seatbelt, jumped out of the truck and took off toward the backyard at a run.

  Mzatal stood on the nexus, feet planted wide and hands clasped behind his back. His eyes locked onto me as I came into sight. He looked glorious and badass, dressed in black silk trousers and tunic with shimmering patterns of blood red. I wanted to be angry and demand a reason for why the hell he’d risked the valve, but instead I ran to the center of the nexus and threw my arms around him with a sob.

  The smell of smoke and sulfur surrounded him like a cologne of Badass as he swept me into an embrace. Abruptly aware of my own far less sexy aroma, I tried to pull away, but he held me close, his mouth finding mine. Our connection flared into full presence, and my petty worries about my unwashed state dropped away. I held him close and kissed him with desperate passion, lost myself in it and in him. The bond engulfed me, and I opened fully, sharing with him all the despair and pain of the days since I’d seen him last. His love met mine, merged into a joyous union as we held each other close.

  After an eternity I broke the kiss, pulled back enough to search his face. “Boss,” I said, speaking the word as the endearment it was. “Why are you here?”

  “Eilahn came to me but moments ago as I engaged an anomaly in Rhyzkahl’s realm,” Mzatal said, voice low but no less intense. “She told me of your grievous plight—the sundering of your arcane senses.” His eyes remained on mine as he stroked the backs of his fingers over my cheek then pushed a strand of hair from my temple. “I saw you in shadow form on Rhyzkahl’s terrace not a full day ago, and within hours he sent a woman to me with no explanation.” Deep concern darkened his eyes as he read the details from me. “You have an agreement with him.” His tone held no jealousy or accusation, only worry and a desire to protect me.

  “I do what I must,” I said with a slight quaver.

  “I cannot restore your abilities, zharkat,” he said. Frustration and deep regret filled the bond. “Perhaps later I will be able to—”

  “It’s all right,” I said. Strangely enough, it was. My abilities weren’t a priority at the moment. I caressed him through our bond and cupped his cheek in one hand. “Beloved.” I drew a shuddering breath. “You shouldn’t have come here.” He’d abandoned the other lords during a crisis and traveled through an unstable valve because he was worried about me. In the scope of one wavelength of light, the act was a priceless, romantic gesture. But within the full spectrum, it bordered on self-serving madness. During the plantation battle, Rhyzkahl had taunted M
zatal that I would be his downfall. I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but now I understood.

  Pain deepened the shadows in his face. “How could I not when you are at such risk?” His awareness of his folly resonated through the bond, as did more: He didn’t want to be the Mzatal who could set aside worry for me—or others. That Mzatal was closed to such petty distractions. Closed to all but that which served to achieve his goals.

  Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Your world is at greater risk than I am. Both our worlds are.” I placed my hands on his chest, gathered the silk of his tunic into my fingers. “Oh, Mzatal,” I breathed. “I saw you. I watched you engage the anomaly and lead the other lords. You were brilliant, and I have never loved you more or been more proud.” I clung to him, held him close by my grip on the silk. My throat clogged to where I could barely speak. “That’s who you need to be, for the sake of our worlds. Without distractions.” He drew breath to protest, but I rushed to continue. “Because of the love we hold for each other, we must both fully commit to our causes, or else all will be lost, and that love will be for nothing.” My heart screamed at me to stop at that and speak no more, but I plunged on. “You can’t hope to succeed in this without your blade.” Essence-deep agony flared with my words. “You must call Khatur and . . . fully commit.” I wept openly as he wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

  “Zharkat, I cannot.” A shiver passed through him, of denial, of horror. Fully commit. Terrible implications echoed within the two words. “I cannot.” His voice broke. Closing off was a desolate and isolated prison of his own making, near as dire as the submersion Szerain endured.

  And I had to convince him to step into the cell and lock the door behind him. “We fight a war on two different fronts.” I reached for the thick rope of his braid, drew it over his shoulder and gave it a tug. Desperate emotion twisted his face at the simple gesture that meant so much to us. A secret and wicked joy, a shared passion. Dying inside, I released the braid. “We . . . we had our time in the sun, but we dare not indulge any longer. Not if our worlds are to stand a chance of survival.”