by Karin Harlow
On the ferry back to the mainland, Selena seemed to have gone off into her own world. Each time Nikko looked her way, she was staring at some far-off spot on the horizon. Finally, she turned to him and said, “Don’t you dare break your promise to Marisol.”
“I won’t.” Sensing her turmoil, Nikko reached over and squeezed her hand. She pulled it away and stared past him. He shook his head and squinted at the morning sun, realizing he was becoming light-sensitive. He was also becoming stronger, and his ability to control his vampire impulses was slowly coming around. Ignoring the burn, Nikko looked out over the rough, gray Atlantic. His guts churned along with the cold ocean waters.
Last night with Selena had shaken his resolve. Their emotional parting with their daughter this morning had shaken him more. He had responsibilities not only to L.O.S.T. but to his daughter. And, if he was honest with himself, to Selena as well. He looked at Selena’s proud profile. She sat rigidly beside him, the ocean spray moistening her flushed cheeks. His belly did a slow roll. She was beautiful. Passionate. And damn if she couldn’t fight better than half the men he knew. She was his for the taking, and yet, since leaving their room with Marisol earlier that morning, she’d acted as if last night had never happened.
They didn’t speak another word as the ferry chugged along the six-mile waterway separating St. Michael’s Island from the mainland. Selena was in a deep, contemplative mood. No doubt thinking of all the ways she could cut his balls off. After his rejection, he didn’t blame her. But she had to understand they led two entirely different lives than they had eight years ago. And even if they didn’t, he could not get past the eight years of emotional hell she’d put him through.
Nikko was tired of trying to sort out emotions. He was a man of action. “Selena, we need to talk about Saturday night.”
The ferry nudged the pier with a smooth bump. The passengers around them stood. Nikko glanced at Selena, who had not moved a muscle. “Set your emotions aside for the moment and give me your undivided attention.”
She nodded without looking at him, then stood. Great, moody Selena had arrived.
Nikko blew out a long breath and followed her toward the gangplank to the bustling pier. He stopped at the rail and looked suspiciously at the crowd. Beside him, Selena did the same thing. For so early in the morning, a substantial line had already formed for the return ferry to St. Michael’s. Nikko didn’t like it one bit. If he could find a way to shut down the steady stream of visitors, he would.
“Is all of this activity normal?” Nikko asked.
“It gets worse in the warmer months.”
“I don’t like being so far from Marisol.”
Selena looked at Nikko, and this time she squeezed his hand. “Welcome to my world.”
As they disembarked, Nikko abruptly stopped and sniffed the air. Sulfur. He looked down at Selena. The color had drained from her cheeks. “A Hellkeeper,” she whispered.
“Why is it here?”
As her dark eyes scoured the people coming and going around them, Nikko narrowed his eyes and, like a photographer, took a mental snapshot of each person in view. “My loving father has been poking around down here for information. He may have found what he was looking for.”
“Your father is here?” Nikko grabbed her arm and started back up the gangplank. “We need to get to Marisol.”
Selena shook off his hand. “Not so fast,” she said, surveying the people in line. “We have twenty minutes before the ferry begins boarding.”
“Tell me what to look for.”
“Daddy dearest isn’t here. He won’t show until the grand finale. He sent a Hellkeeper to do his dirty work for him. Find a soul to possess, get to the island, then report back to dear ol’ Dad.” She started walking along the crowd waiting to board the Georgia Peach. “Or maybe”—she sniffed the air—“his lackey has already found a host, and he or she is waiting in line.”
Nikko scanned the thickening line. Every person looked normal. “I thought you said daemons didn’t like water.”
“They don’t, but the more powerful ones can tolerate it in a host body.”
Anxiety hyped up Nikko, whereas Selena seemed to have become calmer. Maybe this was old hat to her, but it was not to him. “We’re not leaving here until we track that thing down and kill it.”
Selena smiled slyly and looked up at his determined face. He had no clue what he had just volunteered for. “We?”
“Yes, we. I’m in this all the way with you, Selena. I love that little girl back there with every cell in my body. I’ll die for her, and I’ll kill for her.”
Nikko grabbed her hand and pulled her along to a small café across the street, then barreled past the caffeine-starved patrons lined up three deep to the restrooms in the back.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Loading you up.”
He pushed open the door to the ladies’ room. A woman stood at the sink washing her hands. She looked up at him, shrieked, then ran past them out to the café. Nikko slammed the door shut, wedging the trash can beneath the doorknob.
“Was that really necessary?” Selena asked, wondering what the Hell he was up to.
He turned fiery eyes on her and shoved up his shirtsleeve. He bit his wrist and held it out to her. “I know you think you’re all badass with that necklace, but I want you to take my blood. Selena, it’s still raging with Rev. It will give you more power. And if we get separated and you need me, I can hear you.” His eyes softened. “And if I need you, you will be able to find me.”
Stunned, she could only stare at him. Drink his blood? She barely remembered his saving her life with his blood before. That had been an act of desperation on his part to collect information. But now? Despite her aversion to drinking his blood, emotion clogged her throat. What he offered was born out of concern. Selena swallowed hard. She could do this.
Slowly she reached out and took his arm. Those annoying tears threatened again. Why, she didn’t know. What he suggested made perfect sense. With his blood, she’d be stronger to kill the Hellkeeper and destroy the immediate threat to Marisol. There was no hidden meaning behind it. Though she wished there were. She pressed her lips to his wrist. The warmth of his blood was oddly comforting. She closed her eyes and took what he offered. The minute it entered her own bloodstream, she felt the kick. She grasped his wrist tighter to her lips and drank.
When she’d had enough, she stepped back and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She looked down at the smear of his blood on her skin. Her heart pumped wildly. They were bound by more than their daughter. She looked up at his edged face. “Thank you.”
He nodded, then took her hand, kicked the trash can out of the way, and strode with her in tow through the suddenly silent café.
As they stepped outside, they stopped. Like the hunters they were, they lifted their noses to the breeze and caught the scent.
“Let’s go hunting,” Nikko softly said.
“I have my swords, but you need at least one knife. There’s a bait shop at the end of the pier. Stay here and make sure that bastard doesn’t board the ferry. I’m going knife shopping.”
“I’ll go. You stay and cut him from the herd.”
He strode past her, the shop in sight seventy-five yards down the pier.
Selena anxiously paced the loading area to the ferry. Dozens of tourists stood in line to board. The sulfur scent intensified. Casually she strode along the chatty throng, her senses on high alert.
A young couple conversed with an animated elderly woman and her husband. A single woman smiled at the toddler grasping her hand. A large blond family chattered away in what she was pretty sure was Swedish.
Then there was the suit. Silent, staring straight ahead, trying hard to mind his own business and appear non-threatening. Even without the stench, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Selena stopped beside him and admired the blue sky. Casually she looked over at the man, who could not have been any more nondescript if he had been a b
rown grocery bag. Short brown hair, brown eyes, ordinary face, and medium build. Only his tailored suit set him apart, with everyone else wearing casual tourist attire. “I’m thinking of going to the island,” she said to him. “Is it worth my time?”
He didn’t so much as blink in acknowledgment. He just looked ahead. The line began to move; he moved with it. The sulfurous smell swirled around her like a noxious gas. “I asked you a question, mister.” He continued to ignore her. “Ya know, ignoring me isn’t a smart move.” She needed to get him alone, but that was going to be difficult with so many people surrounding him.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the line. The contact opened his mind to her. Selena hissed in a breath. He turned cold, predatory eyes on her. Scenes from his mind flashed before her: black-hooded priests surrounding a bloody altar, the screams of innocents. The deep drone of demonic chants pounded ruthlessly in his mind.
Dear God. The host was a disciple of Paymon’s! Her father was a benevolent master to those who served him faithfully. This man would be among his most trusted to be sent on such a sensitive mission. His power combined with that of the Hellkeeper inside him would test her mettle as it had never before been tested. If she failed? She refused to think of what would happen to Marisol and Nikko.
She had to ensure that this man did not board. “How can you leave me and the kids for a fourteen-year-old?” Selena shrieked, kicking him in the shin.
He grunted but made no move to defend himself. If he thought ignoring her would make her give up, he was wrong.
The crowd around them stepped back, visibly shocked. The man glared at her. “We need to talk about this, Bob. Please, can we speak in private?”
When he shook his head, the old lady in front of him whacked him in the back with her suitcase-size purse. “You should be ashamed of yourself! A fourteen-year-old girl!”
Selena sniffed back fake tears. “And she’s pregnant.”
The old lady kicked him. The female half of the couple beside her smacked him on the shoulder with her umbrella. “Pig!”
“Please, Bob,” Selena pleaded. “Talk to me!”
He turned and strode past her just as Nikko jogged toward her. She inclined her head toward the man, who was moving faster now in the opposite direction. He took off, and they went after him.
He was fast, but they were faster. Nikko tossed a serrated gutting knife to Selena as their prey turned down an alley. She caught it as Nikko leapt into the air after the daemon, tackling him into a Dumpster. The daemon turned on Nikko, his eyes blazing.
“Don’t look at him!” Selena screamed as she skidded to a stop beside them. She grabbed the struggling host up by his short hair and pressed the blade to his throat.
“Come out now, Hellkeeper, or die with this soul.”
“You would not slay an innocent,” a rough female voice hissed.
Lamia. Selena’s heart rate kicked up several notches. Not only a Hellkeeper, but a half-vampire Hellkeeper. Lamia was so powerful even the devil could not kill her. One bite from her was fatal.
“There is nothing innocent about your host! He worships Paymon!” Selena struck quickly, slitting the devil worshipper’s jugular.
He screamed, writhing, clawing, teeth bared, snapping at the air. Selena looked up to Nikko. “Hold him down until he bleeds out, then stand back. One bite from Lamia and she’ll own you.”
Selena pulled her swords from the sheath at her back and crouched next to the dying host, waiting for the serpent daemon to vaporize. And waiting. The body subsided, obviously void of life, but still nothing happened. The hackles on Selena’s neck rose. Something was terribly wrong. “Get out of here, Nikko,” Selena whispered.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her breathing shallowed. Lamia was alive, her stench still fresh. And if she was strong enough to survive in a dead host, she was strong enough to— Selena looked across the bloody body to Nikko. He watched her intently, waiting for her to direct him. Please, for Marisol, go, she mouthed.
He shook his head, his eyes riveted on her. I’m not leaving you.
His words rattled her heart. He had no idea what they were up against, but he was standing by her. Maybe, together … Selena nodded, knowing what she must do. With Nikko close, maybe she could pull it off. But it would leave her physical body exposed and vulnerable to possession. If the daemon would not come to her, then she would go to it. The idea of fighting for her life in a dead body terrified her, but she had no choice.
“Nikko, I have to go in there.” She pointed to the host’s body, then looked back at him. “I need you to protect my body. Don’t allow anyone near it. No vapor, no animal. Nothing.”
“How can you go in there? He’s dead. You’ll die, too!”
“If Lamia can survive in there, so can I. And besides, I have more to live for than she does.” Selena rubbed the stones and did something she rarely did. She made the sign of the cross. “Pray, Nikko, pray like you’ve never prayed before.”
And so would she. Closing her eyes, Selena grasped each sword and called on the stones for strength. They lit up around her neck, their energy building, infusing her shoulders, her arms down to her hands, and finally the swords. As they vibrated with power, she raised her arms to the heavens, and for the first time in her life Selena called to the Blessed Mother for help. As one mother to another. For the life of her child, she begged for assistance. As her lips moved in silent prayer, the air around her swirled, lifting her hair, brushing warmly against her skin. She shivered, not in fear but in awe of a presence so powerful and loving, it overwhelmed her. And then it was gone.
She opened her eyes to Nikko’s intense blue ones. “I’m going in, Nikko. If that bitch comes out, grab my body and run. Do not allow any energy but mine near it!”
Then she was gone.
Demonic laughter filled the dank, dark cavern of the host’s postmortem mind. Selena was not intimidated. She felt strong. Stronger than she had ever felt. Her swords thrummed with power. The infusion of Nikko’s blood coupled with the five nanorians blazing with energy around her neck powered her to step deeper into the serpent’s lair. Long, burning hisses swirled around her; the lash of a forked tongue pricked her ankle.
“Show yourself, Lamia!” Selena turned in slow circles, her swords raised, every sense on red alert. The vast, gray wasteland of the host offered few places to hide. It looked like a postapocalyptic desert. Lamia’s toxic vapor swirled tauntingly around her. “Coward!” Selena challenged.
“It’sssssss you who are the coward, daughter of Paymon,” Lamia hissed.
“I am here!”
“You cower from your destiny.”
“My destiny is on earth, not in Hell with the likes of you.”
“That is unfortunate for you, but,” she cackled, “fortunate for me. Give me the necklace and I will spare your life and that of your lover.”
The strength of the five could not be taken, only freely given. “Over my dead body!”
“It will be my pleasure.”
The daemoness materialized in the form of half-woman, half-serpent. The naked female part of her rested on the thick, shiny coils of a constrictor. Long, fiery hair sparked around her pale face and exaggerated fangs. In each clawlike hand, she wielded a blazing saber.
“You cannot defeat me, slayer. My power is too strong.”
“No power is unconquerable, Lamia. Not even yours.”
Lamia’s coils tightened, raising her upward so that she towered over Selena. In a lightning-quick strike of her tail, Lamia caught hold of Selena’s left foot and yanked her forward and off-balance. Selena hacked off the tail, freeing herself, and was back on her feet. She ducked as the bloody stump tried to pound her into salt. She rolled out and away from it, then backtracked and lunged at the stump, slicing off a large chunk of it. Furious, Lamia struck out with a fireball from one of her sabers. It hit Selena in the chest, sending her airborne. She cut the fire from her, slowing the velocity of the attack, leapin
g higher into the air so that she came down upon Lamia’s back. Selena dug her heels deep into the daemon’s back, eliciting shrieks of rage. The fiery sabers slashed around her. Selena counterthrust and parried, hacking the fiery hair from the daemon’s head. Lamia rose up, twisted, then slammed Selena into the ground. Like a cobra, Lamia puffed up, her fangs extended, and spat her venom at Selena. Selena closed her eyes and rolled out, but not before the venom sprayed along her back, burning into her flesh.
Selena hissed in pain, but pushed through it. Nikko’s blood would repair the damage. Selena shot straight up into the daemon’s chest and pierced her with the right sword, then dodged Lamia’s fiery sword as it swung beneath her feet. Like a corkscrew, Selena shot straight for Lamia’s heart. The daemon knocked Selena’s right sword from her hand, but Selena held steady and drilled her left sword into Lamia’s chest on the other side of the first cut. Four more cuts, and she’d have cast the pentagram; then she would go in for the kill.
“You have met your match, Lamia,” Selena taunted, bolting up again and dodging the fiery serpent’s sabers.
Lamia hissed and spat her venom. The spray caught Selena in the face, the acid burning her eyes, blinding her.
“Durendel!” Selena called to the sword Lamia had knocked away. It cleaved to her hand. “Be my eyes!” It heated in her hand and, as if she directed it, lunged and sliced another cut for the pentagram. Lamia screamed, spewing her venom. It rained down on Selena. “Repel!” she called to the nanorians. They flared with so much heat they scorched her skin. Lamia’s shrieks of pain were music to Selena’s ears.
“Don’t like to taste your own vile medicine, Lamia?” Selena pressed forward, the powerful nanorians infusing her body with surging power. Lamia cackled as the sound of escaping gas alerted Selena. Lamia was escaping the host! Nikko! Prepare yourself! She’s coming! she called to him in her mind. And don’t be a damn hero!
