by K. F. Breene
Breath coming out in even pants, he dodged a fist and ducked past an attack. A door swung inward as he raced past, someone in white robes rushing out with a gun and a sword. A second glance revealed Filacious raising his gun, aiming for Dominicous.
So, bad guy, then.
He slowed in time to heft a knife out of his belt. He threw it up, snatched it by the blade, aimed and threw in a few quick movements. The blade blossomed in Filacious’ neck. The gun clunked to the floor.
“Dominicous!”
Toa’s white head appeared down the hall, his arm waving an arc through the air. A large man stepped up to his side, knife held low, body bent.
“Look out!” Dominicous screamed.
The blade sparkled once as the dawn light from the windows caught it, before it stabbed towards Toa’s side. The breath caught in Dominicous’ throat… for no reason. A flick of Toa’s hand and the man flew back. Toa followed with a sword through his attacker’s gut. Feathery blond hair swished from Toa’s face as he once again faced Dominicous.
“You’re a pain in the ass, but I’d hate to lose you,” Dominicous breathed when he got closer.
“Yes, well. Where is Sasha?”
Dominicous spun toward someone with a leather vest and long curved blade. Mage Marius jogged to a stop in front of them. Blood spattered his face. “Have you seen Constance? I lost her in the lobby. It’s mayhem.”
“Yes. I saw her with Cato.” Toa glanced around to pinpoint his location. His head whipped north. “They were headed that way.”
“Towards the demon.” Mage Marius spat out a curse under his breath.
“A demon?” Dominicous breathed. “Andris.”
“It would seem. We better help. I know how to cut one off from the source.” Toa’s head dropped. “We should’ve killed him when we had the chance.”
“I would’ve,” Dominicous pointed out. “As I recall, you fought against it. Wanted to get Cato active again, if I remember correctly. Thought that would wake him up.”
“Can you guys argue another time?” Mage Marius started off at a jog, Dominicous and Toa right behind him.
“Sasha?” Toa reminded as they ran.
“I haven’t seen her. I heard a whisper that Stefan might’ve been taken. Hopefully, if that was true, she went for him before all this.”
“She got out?”
“I don’t know.”
As they ran, Mage Marius shot a grayish-white ball in front of him. It pulsed and throbbed through the corridor ahead of them, causing anyone in the way to flee lest they get trapped in it.
“I have not seen a spell like that travel so quickly,” Toa said.
They emerged into the wide open, colors whirling and moving as swords slashed and jabbed. A howl sounded way in the front, a claw rising over the heads and hacking down with incredible force. A group of people fought, working together, trying to bring the thing down.
At the front stood Cato, ten yards from the front entrance, leaning against a couch with his head down and eyes closed. Five men stood around him as protection, facing off to a group of six on the attack. Two lay dead and bloody on the floor, eyes staring. There was no way to determine who the dead belonged to—whether it was the attackers, the defenders, or both. Beyond them fought a crowd of people and one intensely strong demon, so powerful that it stood completely corporeal, moving so fast its limbs got lost in a blur.
“I know how to cut it off from this world,” Toa shouted as he ran up, a wary-eyed defender of Cato stepping to cut Toa off.
Cato glanced up and looked at Toa out of a face lined with fatigue. “Link with me. Pay attention to how you do it.”
“I know how to link,” Toa grumbled as he stepped forward.
Dominicous turned to the six attackers, all tired and drawn. They’d obviously been ordered to kill Cato, but looked like they knew they were no match for his defenders. The question was: would they die trying?
“Are you linked with anyone else?” Toa asked above the demon’s roar. It slashed through someone, ripping the body in half.
“Three, but they are secured in the rooms.”
“Is Constance with them?” Mage Marius asked in a harried voice.
“Yes.” The word was nothing more than a wheeze.
“Hurry Toa,” Dominicous called, stepping forward with a grin for the would-be attackers. Grins with swords always threw people off. “It’s probably sucking all the energy out of him.”
“You act as if I have not done this before.”
“Even in the middle of battle you’re snotty.”
“Must you two always fight?” Mage Marius asked. He whisked an intense spell up and fired at one of the attackers. As if shot by razor blades, gashes opened up half the male’s body. Blood seeped out from over a hundred cuts.
“Learned something from the human, eh?” Dominicous asked with a welling of pride.
“Anyone can get lucky.” Mage Marius lifted his chin in defiance.
“Uh huh.”
“You have the same power as her…” Toa’s breath drifted away into the room, colored with shock. “One in a million. How have you kept this a secret?”
“Notice how you are linking. I do not link like others.” Cato leaned heavily on the couch, his eyes fluttering, his breath forced out in pants. “This is to protect you. Sasha does not know how, though. You must adapt her to human magic. You must show her…”
“Talk after!” Dominicous roared. “Get that thing out of here.”
The demon howled, its monstrous jaws snapping. The tiny black eyes stared directly at Toa. Horrible scrapes and scratches hissed out of its mouth, trying to speak.
“Please tell me you don’t understand it,” Dominicous mumbled.
Cato slumped to the ground, face drawn and white. Toa staggered forward and braced himself. “Dominicous, I need more.”
Dominicous felt out and linked immediately, feeling a huge chasm open up before him filled with a pit of infinite magic. A sea of it, huge waves swirling and crashing, kept at bay. Toa didn’t need power, he needed energy.
Finally, Dominicous completely understood what Sasha had and what Cato had. They would never run out. They would never yank and twist and pull, trying to get every last drop of the elements to accept the invitation into their body. They had all that at their disposal, constantly. Instead, they would not remember to turn it off, and the magic would rage through their bodies, draining them of every last drop of energy until it completed its directions.
Dominicous had never felt so happy to have the kind of magic he did, even though he wasn’t white. It could be worse. It could be infinitely worse.
“Miraculous,” Cato breathed, his body limp as it rested against the back of the couch where he sat. “I would not have thought to go in that way. Much easier, though much more strain magically. More to do.”
“He never stops talking,” the defender next to Dominicous muttered in companionship as the last “maybe I just won’t bother” attacker turned and found somewhere else to be. “On and on he goes.”
As an afterthought, he nodded at Dominicous. “I’m Jim.”
Energy sapped from Dominicous’ body as he stood and waited. “Dominicous. He say anything about the black human?”
“Black human? The one with Julius?”
“No, not skin color. Black, as in magic level.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, that other guy is red, I think.”
“A black level female.” Dominicous had the impression this guy wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
“Oh right. Yeah, she took off with a bunch of wolves. Can you believe that? Intelligent wolves. It’s weird, man. An animal… that is a human. Anyway, he kept muttering about a link reformed or some damn thing. Said she was going to fight some kind of fated battle, or some form of stupid fantasy shit. I’m not into that kinda stuff. More a mystery guy, myself.”
Dominicous no longer had the energy to punch him in the mouth to shut him up, but he really wanted to. “Where?�
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“Where’d she go, do you mean? Oh, she took off down that secret corridor with all them animals and whatnot. Gonna grab a plane to—somewhere. Oh wait—they didn’t know where. That’s right.”
With a final roar that shook the building, the demon dissolved, splashing the floor with thick black sludge. A weight snapped free from the center of Dominicous’ chest, having him pitching forward without the energy to put his hands in front of his face. His face slapped off the ground.
Cato sat right where he was. He did not bother moving. “As I was saying…”
Jim rolled his eyes and jerked his head. “See? Picking right up where he left off—that’s how much the guy talks. You need a hand up, man?”
“You need to push her harder, Toa.” Cato panted for a moment, his breath ragged. “You need to get her on the brink before she will open up to it. She’s a scrapper. She didn’t grow up poor, but she grew up deprived. She fights for survival with her teeth. She needs to be on that stake, with the flames licking at her feet, before she’ll fully give in to it.”
“There he goes with that black foot again. You’d think it was some kind of trophy.” Jim shook his head and glanced out at the battle still raging on.
“She has come extremely far in just a few months,” Toa answered just a tinge defensively.
A huge male with blood splatting half his body jogged out of the crowd. His fierce eyes found Cato, half-dead and exhausted, sitting on the ground. His eyebrows dipping low, he started forward.
“I got this, bro.” Jim jogged forward with his sword. Two other guys jogged forward with him.
Good. Dominicous didn’t have much left. Not at the moment, anyway. He needed a Gatorade.
Cato sighed in fatigue. “Well, we will part here. I have to rest before I can be of any help. I’m not sure what state this place will be in, but if I see the other side of it, we will meet again.”
Toa glanced up at Dominicous with a confused expression. Dominicous said, “We have some traveling to do.”
Chapter 12
The canvas hood was ripped off of Stefan’s face. He yanked at his arms, now tied to a feeble wood chair, ascertaining they were still bound. His legs were similarly tied.
He stared at Andris who stood in front of him. Stefan surveyed the dimly-lit room. Candles flickered on shelves and stands, like something out of a Renaissance painting. A large, perfect circle, painted with what looked like a stencil, decorated the ground in the middle of the open space. Males and females stood around, loitering in corners. If they’d all worn capes, Stefan would’ve thought they were on a movie set.
“When do you start filming?” Stefan asked, rolling his head to loosen up his neck. He’d fallen asleep in the motorhome on the way here. The drug had worn off and very minute impressions of Sasha had bled through the link. Her emotions colored him with determination, power and strength; all things that said she was kicking ass. It’d relieved him enough to catch a few hours of sleep while he could.
He still felt her, however distantly. Determination still bled through more than anything else. His heart swelled at the same time as it bled. He would never see that remarkable female again. He’d never feel her silky skin brushing against his body, or encourage her soft mews of delight. He’d been the happiest of his life with her. If he went for eternity, just him and her, with nothing else in the world, it would be plenty more than he had before her.
But at least she will live on.
He took a deep breath and refocused on Andris, directing the crew of four that lead something resembling a stubborn goat.
“You stopped to pick up a goat?” he asked, glancing around the sparse room. “Couldn’t find one any closer? Where are we, anyway? In a gym?”
Andris turned and studied him for a second. “You find this silly. Yes, I agree. The pentagrams and candles—it’s all a bit ridiculous. But I had human advisors who practiced this sort of thing—when they weren’t fixing computers or playing Dungeons and Dragons, that is—or whatever that asinine card game is. They set it up this way, and since it worked, I continued.”
“You had human advisors?”
Andris turned back to the circle where the goat was being chained to the floor in the middle. “They taught me a great deal. And then became redundant.” He smirked. “Well, actually, they became the sacrifice to call a demon. Poetic, I thought.”
“Did you plan to get caught? By us? And taken to the Council?”
The goat bleated as the helpers moved away.
“I did not, no. As I said, you’ve done nothing but get in my way since the beginning of this enterprise. But, I am ever an improviser. Also well-connected.”
Stefan couldn’t argue with that. The male got out of the dungeon, got Trek out of the dungeon, and both of them away from the compound without any problem whatsoever. He was good at what he did— Stefan had to give him that.
Andris gestured for one of his staff to approach, saying to Stefan, “And no, to answer your question. I did not stop to pick up a goat. I stopped to pick up something infinitely more valuable. If you travel too far, the blood link is nothing more than an echo. I like to be apprised of my possessions at all times.”
“Ah.” Stefan glanced around the room for the person of which he spoke. “Does she know she is a possession?”
“She knows that she has landed a handsome, rich, powerful, dominating man that gives her the best sex of her life. She cherishes the ground I walk on.”
“But does she know she’s a possession? Females really hate that.”
Andris scoffed. “You’re too soft. Human women need to be taken in hand. Once they submit, they flow along nicely. Except for that harebrained human you found. Bad luck.”
Stefan smirked. Not at all. The sex was better with the feisty ones. Conversations were more colorful with someone that could match one’s intellect. And his mansion would run ten times more efficiently with someone that was strong enough to steer the ship on her own.
A hard stab of longing pierced his chest. He muffled the link, just in case any of that bled through. Andris was right, all the distance only gave echoes of feeling, but with him and Sasha, it would be enough to make her come running with a sword and a snarl.
Mate.
“Now,” Andris interrupted his thoughts as he moved toward the circle, book in hand. “Let’s give this goat a purpose, shall we?”
“You know, if you gave that goat to a family in an impoverished nation, it would have a longer-lasting purpose.”
Andris swiveled his body to stare at Stefan. “Since when are you so light and carefree? Is that what hanging around humans does to a male? Turns him nonsensical and delirious?”
“Well, now you’re just saying words.”
Hazel eyes stared hard. His head tilted a fraction, calculating. “Maybe I should’ve taken her. Maybe used her while you watched. I think that would’ve gotten the reaction I was looking for.”
Stefan shrugged, unconcerned. But you didn’t. She was safe, and she’d look after everything Stefan spent his life to build. His job as a mate and protector would be upheld.
“I doubt she will live through the siege on the Council, but if she does, maybe I’ll target her when we’re done. Use her for a demon.” Andris continued to stare.
Stefan shrugged again. “If you’re irritated by my always getting in the way, I can’t imagine you’ll find Dominicous and Toa any fun.”
Andris’ look darkened. He nodded to a helper, handed off his book, and stalked over to Stefan in heavy, angry strides. With two hands he ripped Stefan’s shirt open, revealing his chest. The next moment a knife flashed.
Stefan sucked in a breath as the steel bit into his flesh, slicing the skin across his pec. Pain bled across his senses, merging with the throbbing in his skull that hadn’t gone away. He opened his eyes slowly, knowing Andris waited for a reaction of some kind. For anger.
Instead, Stefan smiled. “Jonas would really love you.”
Rage clouded Andris
’ gaze. Crimson crawled up his face. Just as quickly, a cold, calm rationale settled down, muffling the loss of control. His lips curled slightly. “I see. Yes, you always had ways of manipulating. Clever. And maybe, were we playing fair, I would have met my match. Unfortunately, playing fair is merely a detour to getting where you need to be.”
“Poetic. Did you find that on a tee-shirt?”
Unblinking hazel eyes revealed the turmoil within. The spoiled kid that wasn’t getting his way. It almost made Stefan chuckle, but not yet. Someone laughing at him would certainly push him into a frenzy, but there wasn’t enough pressure to make the frenzy escalate into carelessness. Not yet. Stefan would save the laughter for a pivotal moment—if one ever came.
After another moment of collecting himself, Andris turned slowly and stuck out his hands for the book. “I hate this old magic. It takes so long.”
Two helpers entered the circle, one carrying a velvety blue pillow in two outstretched hands, and the other with hands folded down his front. They stood at the head of the goat, which pushed forward, seemingly looking for food. Andris walked in as well, stepping between the males with open book in hand. He glanced down at the pages, and then started to speak what Stefan thought might be Latin in a flat, monotone voice.
So he’d been right. Andris would create a lessor demon first. One he could control. Maybe even one that could help control a more powerful demon—who knew? Certainly not Stefan; he’d never seen old magic performed before now. And on first appearance, it seemed archaic and laughable. If he hadn’t fought what this type of magic could produce, he’d dismiss it out of hand.
The speech stopped. Andris handed off the book and held out his hand. Like a surgeon, the helper plucked a marble-handled knife off of the pillow and placed it carefully in Andris’ palm. The helper then bent to the goat, holding the neck steady with eyes downward.
The goat bleated, nipping at Andris’ pants. Andris flinched as he got in position—the goat’s teeth apparently nipping more than clothes—and held the knife above the goat’s neck. Another helper shuffled quickly into the circle, an ordinary galvanized bucket held between two hands.
