“I can’t let you do that,” the voice in her head whispered. “The moment they remove the wards from this spell I’m going to take you and devour them while your friends watch.”
Dorian shook her head as Lennox let her arm go, and she stepped into the pentagram. “Big words for a creature who says he needs me on his side. Killing my friends…”
“Don’t fool yourself, Dorian. These are not your friends. These are not the people who sang you to sleep at night, healed your wounds, protected you from fates worse than death. These are not the people who raised you to be strong. Gave you your name.”
“You didn’t do any of those things,” she bit. “You only provided me a life of madness and rejection. You made me think I was insane, broken, a lost cause that would never be whole.” She ignored the stares of the Exorcists as she laid down, and didn’t make eye-contact with a grey-haired man as he leaned over her, binding her feet with a second chain.
Glancing to the side, she saw Lennox take his place amongst the conclave, and she saw Briar pacing like an angry tiger behind them. Knowing what was in her pocket, her failsafe, gave her more courage. These people wouldn’t die tonight. Even if they thought of her as a science experiment, a source for power, it didn’t matter. They were human and they’d live.
“They won’t.”
She laughed again as the Exorcist waved his hand over her bindings, releasing the wards. Nic waited in the shadows. He wasn’t ready yet. The man took several steps back until he was outside the circle, and Dorian lifted her head just a fraction, taking them all in. This was it. It was now or never.
“I’m ready,” she said, and before the chanting could begin, her eyes rolled back in her head and everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The doorway was wide, expansive. It shone into the infinite and he was holding her by the back of her hair. The wind whipping between dimensions was so hot, her skin was searing off, but she refused to back down.
“This is what your fate will be if you don’t let me do this,” Nic said, his voice rotten and cold in her ear. “Do you hear them screaming? Begging?”
She couldn’t understand the language, but the cacophony of voices didn’t need to speak her language to convey their agony. Their fear. They were being murdered, tortured, enslaved. They might not have been from God or the Devil, but this was hell. It was truly hell.
“They won’t stop with my world. There are infinite worlds, and they need yours. They will have humans bound in chains, bred to live in agony so they might dominate all worlds. I can’t let that happen!” His claws sank into the back of her neck, and her knees went weak.
Out of nowhere came a push of power, throwing Nic into the air and he flew several feet away. Dorian spun on her heel, backing away from the door, but before she could take more than a few steps, he was on her again.
“I’m too strong for them.”
“You’re still in chains,” she pointed out. His wrists holding her were raw just above his hands, and she knew he hadn’t broken the bindings yet.
“Not for long.” He let out a growl and his head turned up. Power surged from his chest and she felt her head spinning as he fought against them.
Not willing to give up, not ready to die just yet, she let out a scream, throwing her hands up and giving him a shove. “You can’t have me. I won’t give you my life just because you’re afraid.”
“And you’ll surrender your people just to save yourself? You’ll let those demons wage war on your home world?” He threw his head back, laughing, and as he stepped away from her, thick, leathery wings erupted from his back. His voice dropped several octaves and his white glow took on an orange hue. “Do you have any idea what you’re dealing with?”
“I’m starting to learn.” She took a step forward, but something stopped her. Her feet were glued to the ground and her hands were shackled.
“They’re giving up on you.” He laughed again, his hair falling into his face. “It’s been hours. The sun’s coming up. They’ve exhausted almost all of their power. Even your little Reaper hasn’t been able to draw me out.” He displayed several gashes on his forearm and when Dorian looked down at hers, she saw them mirrored there.
She wasn’t going to die, though. She refused. “Lennox!” she screamed, throwing her head back. “Adelaide! Briar!”
He started to laugh again, when a burst of energy tore through her, and the bindings broke. Feeling strong and unlike herself, she reached out, taking him by the front of his shirt. He fought, clawed at her face, and in spite of the blood and pain, she kept moving. He struggled in her grasp, but she was holding him now, her own power combined with her friends’, and she walked toward the doorway.
“We’ll stop this war on our terms,” she hissed at him through clenched teeth.
The doorway was swinging open now, wide, like a vacuum and it was pulling at him. He let out an inhuman howl as he clawed at her shoulders and arms, but it didn’t matter. She was torn to shreds but her strength held fast.
“You can’t do this to me! I won’t let you!”
Dorian smiled as they approached the doorway, and she felt his wings catch in the breeze, tugging him back. “Yes, I can. I’m going to be in agony when I wake up. Dirty, bloody, and who knows what else. But I’m going to be alive. I’m going to be myself.”
“Dorian, please! I need you,” he begged, but it was no use. She refused to hear it.
With a final shove, the air caught him and ripped him away. Not before a claw shot out, sinking into her side, but though the agony of his final blow sent her to her knees, the door slammed shut and everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The first thing she knew was pain. A tingling ache through her entire body. She felt shredded, literally, like claws had ripped the flesh from her bones. Cracking a hesitant eye open, Dorian expected to see marred flesh on her arms and legs, but instead she only found pink, raw skin baking in a stream of sunlight.
She was unbound now, her arms and legs free of chains, and she wasn’t in the forest anymore. She was lying on an air mattress somewhere unfamiliar. It smelled like a ratty motel off the side of the freeway, and when she turned to see old, peeling wallpaper, she realized that’s exactly where she was.
Letting out a low groan, she tried to get up, but a firm hand gave her a shove back down onto her pillow. “Easy there, killer. Not so fast.” The light brogue was an instant comfort, and she turned her head to see Lennox sitting cross-legged on the floor, one hand resting on her shoulder.
“What… how…” Her throat was raw, and her mouth was full of the taste of blood. “Where are we?”
“Some motel Markus found that wouldn’t ask a lot of questions.” He got up on his knee and reached over to take her wrist. It took a second to realize he was feeling for a pulse, and she watched as he monitored her heartbeat to the ticking hand of his watch.
“How long have I been out?”
He didn’t answer until he finished what he was doing, and seemed satisfied when he sat back again. “Two days, give or take. You’ve come to a couple of times, but not for more than a minute or so.”
Dorian realized she wasn’t wearing the clothes she put on before their trip to the forest, and she didn’t want to think of the implications of that. What he’d had to do to clean her up if she’d been bedridden for two whole days. He seemed unbothered though, so she let it go.
“Did I… did it work? Am I okay?”
This time he couldn’t stop the smile from blooming across his face, and he nodded. “So far so good, lass. Your pulse has been steady and strong, and your pupils look good. Voice is steady. You’ll be shaky on your feet for a while, but we did it. We beat him.”
The smile on her face ached. Everything ached, but it was worth it. Her head was quiet, and she realized after a moment, several doors in the room were laying half open, and one window was propped up to let in a breeze, and it didn’t bother her. In fact, the latent anxiety she fel
t as a constant was gone, without a trace.
It was overwhelming in that moment, and she couldn’t stop the flood of tears erupting from her eyes, rushing down her cheeks and pooling on the pillow. She reached a trembling hand up to wipe them away, but Lennox beat her to the punch, mopping her up with a handful of rough motel tissue.
“You’re gonna have a lot of that, so don’t get self-conscious. It’s all perfectly normal.”
She took in a shaking breath and nodded. “I really need to sit up, though. If I don’t stretch, I’m going to atrophy.”
Though Lennox seemed hesitant, he gripped her hand and helped ease her up a few inches. Her head swam, but eventually went steady and she was able to prop herself up against the wall. She appreciated being tucked in to clean sheets and a blanket, but she was craving a hot meal and a shower now like she never had before.
“So what’s next? Where is everyone?”
Lennox sighed, easing himself onto the bed next to her to keep her from falling over. “Mattie and the others are gone. Left behind their reports for you to go over when you’re feeling up for it.”
“Reports?”
“Aye. The witness reports of the exorcism. It’s standard, stuff for you to study when you begin your training. Best place to start when you learn the reaping is with your own, right?”
She shuddered at the idea. What she’d gone through in her head was enough, she didn’t want to imagine what it looked like from the outside. But she nodded and took a breath before she continued. “What about Markus? And Adelaide?”
“Back at the house. He’s happy with the lodgings and for now, he thinks you’ll be safe there. Whatever method Stone was using to track you is gone. A missing persons report was filed, but we have an internal agent who was able to tidy that up. They’re working on erasing your mental health record now.”
Her eyes went wide and she sat up a little, bracing herself on the side of the bed. “Wait, what? Erasing my record?”
Lennox got up from the mattress and offered a hand out to Dorian who took it with some trepidation. She eased herself up, scooting off the edge of the bed, and braced herself on Lennox’s arm as she stood. When she was steady, he eased her along the carpet to a table which had a spread of cheap danishes and some bottled water.
“We don’t do it to everyone, but a lot of people in your position have a long record. Especially with mental health, and you aren’t mentally ill. You were possessed.”
The very thought that not only was it not her fault, but that she was cured, she was going to be okay, hit her hard and she grabbed for the back of a chair to steady herself. It was all very overwhelming, and she wasn’t sure how to process it.
“Okay. That’s fair. But you know people like my doctor, people like Father Stone who might be looking for me, they’re going to notice if I’m suddenly not in their system anymore.”
“Your doctor will be taken care of,” Lennox said, and when she looked alarmed, he held up his hand. “Not like that. Nothing bad. Everything will be explained later, I swear it. For now, maybe try a shower, eat a little something. You need to get your strength back so we can get out of here.”
Dorian nodded and stood up on her own, shaking her head at Lennox’s offered arm. Her steps were shaky, legs burning with an ache like she’d run seventeen miles, but she was steady as she made it to the bathroom. Shutting the door, she didn’t bother with the lock just in case, but she appreciated the privacy. The bathroom was well equipped with towels, soaps, and a robe she was sure had been brought in by Lennox or Markus.
Turning the water on warm, she stripped down and piled her clothes by the door. She was clean, but she felt sticky and gross from having been in bed for two full days. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, and she had that vague smell of disinfectant on her skin.
Climbing under the warm stream, she shut her eyes and let the water soothe her. Her head rested against the scrubbed tiles, and as she stood there, she realized for the first time in her life, her head was quiet. There was no static buzzing, no pressure, the doorway was shut and sealed, and her mind was her own.
Her knees felt weak at the thought, and she had to brace herself on the metal bar attached to the wall. She was free and she was alone. Her head belonged to her and no one else, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to function like that. It was like losing a sense in a way, and the profound feeling of emptiness in her head threatened to send her into a spiral.
Taking several deep breaths, she willed herself to calm down. She poured soap in her hands and lathered up her body, feeling the grime wash off, and although she’d been through the wringer, she had no marks to show for it. Not even bruising where the cuffs had been attached to her wrists.
She wondered if that was normal. Or maybe it was a spell they’d done to heal her? Either way, in spite of the ache, she felt pretty good.
As she lathered up her hair, her eyes closed and she slipped into the memory of the final fight between Nic and her. He’d been scared, that much was obvious. Babbling for what felt like an eternity about what would happen to the humans if Nic’s realm lost the war, and a part of her believed him. But another small part of her wondered if maybe Nic wasn’t the parasite race coming to claim the human highway for himself.
That was the trouble with the demons. Their language was that of the liar, as Dash called it. Dorian couldn’t trust anything. But the point was, she was alive and free, and she was of sound mind. She could help. After they got the whole thing with Father Stone worked out, they could focus on the bigger picture.
Stepping out of the shower, she took in a deep breath and reveled in the feeling of being whole and squeaky clean. As she reached for the robe, however, a searing pain shot up her side, and she doubled over. She had a sudden vision of Nic’s final blow, of his claws sinking into her side, and she scrambled to inspect the wound on her hip, but there was nothing there. Her skin was clean and unblemished.
“It’s nothing,” she muttered to herself. As she took several deep breaths, the pain passed and she figured it was nothing more than a side cramp.
Laughing at herself a bit, she wrapped the robe around her, tying the belt, and she stepped back into the main room where Lennox was waiting for her. He gave her a watery smile and nodded to a pile of clothes sitting on one of the beds.
“Briar left those for you. Some of them are hers, but everything should fit okay.”
Dorian waded through what the Reaper had left, and picked out a pair of leggings and a loose, half-sleeve shirt which seemed like the only thing she could stand to have on her skin. Though she was uninjured, her body felt like raw meat, and she wasn’t sure how long it would last.
But Briar had chosen well, and after slipping into fresh clothes, Dorian felt like a new person. She couldn’t get over the silence in her head, and she knew that would take some time to get used to. She shot Lennox a smile as she sat on the bed, taking the offered pastry he handed to her, and nibbled a bit on the edge.
“So we wait? Or can we just go?”
Lennox sighed and glanced out the window through the crack in the faded curtain. “Markus said he’d ring me up in a bit, let me know when we have the all-clear. I was hoping…” Lennox trailed off, looking a little apprehensive.
“What?”
“Dash is in one of our rehab facilities about ten miles out. I thought we could—”
“Yes!” she said quickly, then flushed. “I mean, if he doesn’t mind seeing me, I think… yes. I’d love to.”
“He’d be furious if I didn’t bring you first thing. He’s been texting me about your progress non-stop. He had a lot vested in you, lass.”
Dorian’s face flushed and she wondered if it was from pride or guilt. Probably both, she reasoned. She wasn’t sure how she was going to look him in the eye knowing his entire life had been altered because of her. But she allowed herself that moment to accept it hadn’t been her fault, even if she didn’t truly believe it yet.
She managed two o
f the pastries before Markus called, and Lennox took the conversation outside. Waiting in a tense silence, still getting used to the quiet in her head, she tapped her foot against the floor until he walked back in.
“We’re in the clear.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and walked past her to clear up the room.
“Wait,” she said, jumping up. “Does that mean Father Stone…?”
“Missing,” Lennox said, his voice short and clipped. He popped the side plug on the air mattress and began to roll it into a tight coil. “We’ve got men on it, but whatever’s going on, he’s gone underground.”
That didn’t bode well, Dorian realized as she began stuffing their scattered clothing into the duffle bags. If he was missing, it could very well mean something was up. There was a damn good chance Father Stone knew about her exorcism, and though she survived it, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still want her. However, that was an issue for later. Right now they had places to be, and she was eager to get out of the stale motel room and on the road to her new life.
Five minutes and they had the place scrubbed. The only things to show they’d been there were empty water bottles and a battered pastry box stuffed into a small trash can.
Lennox looked around, running his hands into his hair, then turned to Dorian. “Okay lass, you ready?”
She gave a slow nod, trying to push down the anxiety of their next mission, but it was hard. Dorian needed to see Dash, to confirm he was okay, to see the look in his eyes when she asked him if he was going to be able to forgive her. But part of her wanted to run and hide. If he was away, if he wasn’t around, all she had were Lennox and Briar telling her Dash was fine and didn’t hold her responsible. She’d lived so long half in and half out of reality, it was a more comfortable choice.
Still, Lennox wasn’t giving her any room to let anxiety or fear take over. He had the car running by the time she got to the passenger door, and his excitement over seeing Dash again was infectious. She realized in spite of her guilt, in spite of her fears, she was going to witness the two of them seeing each other for the first time since the exorcism and that was something important.
The Reaping: Language of the Liar Page 18
