Shades of Wicked

by Jeaniene Frost

  If they could do those things with vampire power alone, I could, too. I wouldn’t risk everything simply because using my other nature was easier at this particular moment.

  I took a breath to steady myself, giving Dagon one last warning glance. Then, whole body shuddering from geysers of agony going off inside me, I forced my hand steady as I dipped it into Dagon’s blood again. What I’d had before was now drying.

  “You’re going to fail,” Dagon snarled.

  I didn’t reply. I slowly, carefully drew the final symbol without making a mistake. That was all the response he deserved.

  The bodies nearby and the splintered remains of the roller coaster around us vanished. A river cut through it, dark as deepest despair. A long, thin boat rode on it. For a moment, I saw two Dagons: one at the helm, and one beneath me.

  Then the figure at the helm changed, morphing from the false god I’d been tricked into worshipping as a child into the being that had fathered me. His silvery hair with its gold and blue streaks rustled in a wind I couldn’t feel as that lightning-like gaze met mine. Then he took in the bone shards on Dagon and around me.

  “I see that neither of you have obeyed me,” he said in the mildest of tones. But the waters that weren’t really there rippled as if his anger was a strong current.

  “Father,” I said, choosing the form of address I never used to his face. Then I got off Dagon since he wouldn’t dare try anything now. “Dagon has taken someone precious from me. I need your help to get him back.”

  He said only, “Who murdered all these?” with a glance at the shards littering us and the many skeletons I now couldn’t see.

  “She did!” Dagon said at once. Then he got up and flung the excess bone fragments off his clothes for emphasis. “She killed every last one of my loyal servants!”

  “Who you brought with you so you could kill me,” I countered.

  His icy blue gaze had regained most of its arrogance now that he no longer had a bone knife against his only remaining eye. “No. I told them not to kill you. Deny that, if you dare.”

  “Did I forget the part where you were trying to enslave me to use my blood as your latest drug trade?” I said caustically. “He came for the Simargyl,” I told the Warden, who watched us silently. “You revoked his ownership of Silver and gave him to me, but Dagon used a trace on Silver’s blood to ambush us. I killed those demons in self-defense.” Mostly true.

  “You lured me here!” Dagon sputtered. “You had traps—”

  “Enough.” The Warden’s command made Dagon clamp his mouth shut. I would have enjoyed that, but I was too desperate.

  “Dagon killed my companion.” I fought the lump in my throat as pain of a different kind strafed me. Not physical, yet in its own way, more intense than what I’d felt when I’d been drawing the symbols. “But you can bring him back.”

  The Warden gave me a diffident glance. “If you’re referring to the man who was with you before, he did not pass through my section of the Netherworld.”

  “No, he didn’t,” I agreed. Dagon glared at me, silently warning me to say no more. “Dagon kept his soul inside him instead of sending it on.”

  The Warden was silent again. Moments turned into minutes. I wanted to demand he say something, but I didn’t. Dagon wasn’t the only one who kept glancing at the waters beneath the Warden’s boat. They weren’t rippling anymore. They were roiling.

  “If that is true,” the Warden finally said, “all I can do is free his soul to send it to the destination meant for it.”

  “No,” I said at once. “Dagon tricked him into dealing it away. If you send his soul on, you condemn him.”

  “I condemn no one.” Was that a hint of weariness is his tone? “I only guard the gateway to the side of the netherworld assigned to me. Whoever passes through it has already sealed their own fate.”

  I was about to rail at him. Then I remembered what I’d felt when my other nature had been in control. That half came from him, so it stood to reason that it was a milder version of his mentality, psyche, whatever. If so, sentiment meant nothing. I’d have to use something else to sway him.

  What would resonate with the Warden, if emotions were irrelevant? Balancing the scales? My other half hadn’t felt grief over Ian, but it had taken offense at being robbed of what I considered mine. It had also felt that killing Dagon and his men was the appropriate response. If my father had a similar sense of obligatory recompense, maybe I could shift it . . .

  “I brought you valuable information about Dagon hoarding souls, and you give me nothing in return,” I said. “Your unpaid debt to me stands that much taller.”

  “Oh?” The faintest hints of disbelief—or was it scorn?—tinged the Warden’s tone. “What unpaid debt?”

  “I am your progeny.” Modern speech failed me in my urgency. “Dagon had me raped, tortured, and murdered for decades, but you gave him the lightest of reprimands by disallowing him further human worship. That is your oldest debt to me. Dagon took your obvious disregard for your progeny as weakness and began keeping some of the souls he was supposed to deliver through your part of the netherworld. Moreover, when he found out I was still alive, he ignored your command and set out to re-enslave me. Even if I also disobeyed your command, I did so after thousands of years. Dagon’s contempt of you is so great, he disobeyed you mere days after discovering I still lived. And now I get no recompense for bringing all this to your attention?”

  The Warden’s silver gaze landed on Dagon. The demon took a step backward—and my father’s hand rammed into his chest, disappearing inside Dagon’s body. Dagon shuddered, his single eye glowing such a bright shade of red, I thought it might spontaneously combust.

  “She speaks the truth.” The Warden’s voice rose until it boomed as he withdrew his hand. “You are filled with souls.”

  Now I knew my father’s voice sounded like thunder when he was angry. Dagon dropped to his knees, either in fear or pain since he continued to shudder as if my father’s hand was still feeling around inside his chest. “My lord Warden, I—”

  I clutched my hands over my ears at what came out of the Warden’s mouth. It was too loud, too awful, too crowded, as if every voice trapped in the worst part of the Netherworld had screamed all at once. Then he shut his mouth and that horrifying sound was replaced with silence heavy enough to suffocate.

  Chapter 44

  “You have indeed done well,” the Warden said, turning to me. It was praise I’d never heard from him. “Dagon will be punished. You will never see him again.”

  In that moment, I was genuinely afraid of him. Whatever my father was—a lesser god, different sort of demon, former or current angel, other type of celestial being, ancient alien for all I knew—his power defied comprehension.

  Tenoch had been right to warn me against letting that half of myself fully out. Maybe there wasn’t anything inherently evil about it, but that much power was dangerous when it didn’t come with a normal conscience. It was like a bomb. Drop it on the right target, and it could save lives. Drop it on the wrong one . . .

  “My lord!” Dagon cried. Then he fell forward, clutching his head the way I had when the Warden had let out that otherworldly roar. From the way Dagon rocked and moaned, it was as if he were hearing it directly into his head.

  “What about Ian’s soul?” I asked.

  The Warden’s gaze turned fathomless. For an instant, I felt the same mindless, helpless feeling I had in dreams when I was falling from a great height and knew nothing could save me. Then he blinked and I was staring into bright beams of silver again.

  “He goes where he has sent himself, as does Dagon.”

  My emotions cleaved. Dagon would finally get the justice he deserved. Everyone I’d promised to avenge would be avenged. I would be avenged. Ian would, too, but he wouldn’t be at peace. No, if I let my father do this, Ian would be worse off than he had been when he’d almost died in the Australian outback as a human.

  Ever been lost? Ian had roughly
asked when speaking of that time. The worst part was knowing no one cared enough to save you. That’s what you remember forever. Not the physical pain or the never-ending fear, but the despair of being utterly alone and knowing you’ll die that way . . .

  Ian was lost like that now. He’d stay lost that way forever, unless I did something very reckless with the most powerful being I’d ever encountered. One who didn’t feel a shred of love for me because his nature wasn’t wired that way.

  Given the choice, I’d always rather go down fighting . . .

  So would I, I’d replied. Time to prove it. “No deal,” I told the Warden.

  He paused. No surprise that he’d already dismissed me and turned away. Now, he turned back, the angry twitch to his brow seeming to say, Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?

  “No deal,” I repeated in a stronger tone. “Taking Dagon to whatever torment awaits him might make the two of you even, but it isn’t nearly adequate compensation for me.”

  “Your additional compensation is not fearing any retribution for all the demon lives you have taken,” the Warden replied. Then he pulled Dagon into his boat. He didn’t struggle. Dagon didn’t even seem to notice. He was still consumed by whatever had him shaking and clutching his head. The two of them and the river started to fade, wood fragments from the blown-up roller coaster now peeking through those dark currents.

  Panic made me shout “Wait!” with all the emotion my father couldn’t feel. Then I lashed myself. Stick to terms he understands. Scales and balances, not feelings and needs.

  “Everyone who makes a deal with you has to fill your boat with adequate recompense or they forfeit their lives, right? Well, my boat is still empty because I don’t want exemption from retribution over killing those demons. I only want Ian’s soul returned to his fully healed body.”

  The Warden rematerialized, saying, “You cannot withdraw one soul from Dagon without freeing them all,” in a tone that was as close to snapping as I’d heard from him.

  “Then do that.” I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down my cheeks. “Dagon only got them through deals he struck. Knowing him, none of them were fair.”

  “Fairness is up to another to judge, not me,” the Warden replied in that borderline curt tone.

  “Once again, you’re giving me nothing!”

  It tore out of me with all the pain I couldn’t force down. I’d tried to reason with him using scales and balances. It hadn’t worked. Now, even if it made no difference, he’d know every damn thing I’d been holding back, both now and in the past.

  “You sent Tenoch to rescue me, but that was more to keep Dagon from getting too powerful than to save me, wasn’t it? You only told Tenoch to look in on me afterward, to keep tabs on me, so I didn’t do something similarly problematic with my powers. How else would he know to keep warning me about them? But Tenoch chose to help me heal. He chose to make me his family. You never did. I hope that’s because of some cosmic prohibition. Whatever the reason, if you think we’ve even because you’re finally punishing Dagon and you’ll shield me from other demons’ wrath, let me tell you how you’re not even close.”

  I swiped at my tear-soaked face before getting right up in his. His arms folded across his chest. I ignored the subtle warning. He’d either kill me for this next part or he wouldn’t, but he wasn’t going to intimidate me into staying silent.

  “You sired a half-mortal child. As such, I have emotional needs. You knew that, and you refused to meet them even when I was so broken, I wanted to die. Your debt to me, therefore, is enormous. I’m offering a way for you to settle it cheap. Restore Ian’s soul back to his body. I don’t care what you have to do to make that happen, just like you didn’t care what I had to do to get the mortal-driven need for love, support, and companionship you denied me for the better part of five thousand years. If you don’t, you are choosing to leave your debt unpaid. Whatever big deal you might be in this plane of existence, in my world, that makes you nothing more than another worthless, deadbeat dad.”

  The Warden’s eyes were blazing when I finished, until I had to look away or risk being blinded by them. I waited, expecting something terrible to occur. Dagon bolting out of the Warden’s boat wasn’t it, but that’s what happened.

  The Warden caught him after only a few steps. Then he grasped Dagon by his long blond hair and put his hand flat over Dagon’s chest, speaking in a language I’d never heard before.

  “What are you doing?” Dagon hissed, saving me the trouble.

  The Warden didn’t reply. Multiple lights began showing through the tattered remains of Dagon’s clothes. I sucked in a breath. Please let those be what I think they are. Please . . .

  Dagon began to scream. The sounds grew into high-pitched shrieks. Then he tried to run again. The Warden lifted him by the hair until Dagon’s feet were sawing at the air. All the while, those lights moved farther up Dagon’s body. When they reached Dagon’s throat, they glowed until his skin resembled a lamp shade thrown over a spotlight.

  “What’s happening?” I had to shout to be heard.

  “The souls are eating their way out of him,” my father replied in his normal, dispassionate voice. “The more of his essence they devour, the faster they can free themselves.”

  Devour his essence? That sounded ominous, but I’d worry about the ramifications later. I watched, hope building as those lights crawled ever higher. Then, like fireworks shooting out, they burst from Dagon’s open, screaming mouth.

  There were so many of them! I counted thirteen or fourteen before they vanished from sight. I whirled, looking back toward Ian’s body, but I still couldn’t see it. All I saw was the dark river flowing around me. My father dropped Dagon. He fell much the same way he had when I’d stabbed his eyes out, but he wasn’t dead. His closed eyes were now as whole as my own. Both of them.

  “It is done,” the Warden said in a flat tone. “Your terms of reimbursement have been met.”

  I stared at him as I approached. Then I did something I never thought I’d have the courage—or desire—to do. I put my arms around him. “Thank you.”

  I’d be in less pain if I hugged a power station transformer shooting electricity from every wire, but I didn’t let go even when his arms stayed loose and he didn’t hug me back. Something flowed over me, though, breaching even the pain. A sensation that felt like an otherworldly caress.

  Then it stopped as he stepped out of my arms. “Time is short. I must tell you the repercussions for this.”

  “Whatever they are, I’ll deal with them,” I promised.

  “Yes, you will,” he said darkly. “For now, Dagon must be returned to your world instead of being punished in mine.”

  The Warden held out his hand. Dagon was suddenly sucked away as if a giant vortex had opened up and swallowed him. I was still gaping after that when the Warden resumed speaking.

  “Dagon will be weakened by what was torn out of him from the escaping souls. I have also taken away his ability to teleport, and I will ensure that he cannot go near your companion without paralyzing pain. Thus, he will not be able to seek vengeance against you by killing him. But Dagon will regain his strength in time. When he does, he will come for you.”

  Oh, yes. He’d see this as my stealing power from him twice: first, when he was forbidden to seek human worship; then, when losing the extra souls he’d hoarded to stave off his own death. He wouldn’t rest until I was dead, no matter how long it took.

  Let him come. I had no intention of backing out of my vow to kill him, either. I only hoped those I’d promised justice to could forgive me for delaying it a bit longer. Then again, they of all people should understand. If they could have saved a loved one from Dagon, I had no doubt that they would have.

  “Some of the souls that were released are very dark,” the Warden went on. “The oldest ones will be slowest to regenerate since their bodies have long been dust, but when they do . . . the power they consumed from Dagon’s essenc
e will make them formidable. You must hunt down the evil ones to limit the havoc they will wreak, since it was your demand that caused them to be freed.”

  I nodded. “Hunting down those who use their abilities to harm others is what I do. I won’t fail.” Gods, please, let me not fail, since I was responsible for this . . .

  I took his barest inclination to the right as a returned nod. “Toward this end, I have removed all their memories connected to Dagon and their time spent trapped inside him. This will limit their knowledge of their new abilities. It will also spare them from being . . .” he paused as if choosing a word, “broken over what they experienced in their imprisonment,” he finished.

  I caught myself before I said something caustic. So, he did understand the concept of extreme mental and emotional trauma. He’d probably removed those memories only to limit the people’s dangerousness, since a psychotic, powerful evil person was a bigger threat than a normal, powerful evil person. But whatever his motivation, it meant less suffering for Ian and the rest of them . . . wait. He’d removed all memories connected to Dagon? All of them?

  “Will, ah, will Ian remember anything about these past few weeks, if all of it happened in direct connection with his deal with Dagon?”

  My father stared at me, unblinking. “No. He will not.”

  Chapter 45

  Pain tore into me, as sudden and ferocious as the wraith attack. I forced myself to nod. To pretend that my father hadn’t just ripped my heart out and scrubbed the side of his boat with it. Ian was alive. Nothing else mattered, not even the fact that his only memories of me would be as the law-worshipping bitch he’d thought had helped murder his friend’s child.

  It was for the best, I told myself. Dagon would be gunning for me, plus many other demons for my slaughter of their kind. I also had several powerful evil souls to hunt down before they became even more dangerous and deadly. Ian’s best chance, now that he was finally free of Dagon, was to stay as far from me as possible. My father hadn’t intended it, but he’d done me a favor. This would keep Ian safe better than I ever could. My pain was such a small price to pay.