When the last of the excess power left her, she couldn’t lift her head. She stayed on all fours, exhausted and drained, and pushed each breath in and out, and ignored everything else. Bright light flashed through her eyes, and reverberated through her head.
It took a few minutes for Tarian to realize how quiet the rotunda was. The only sounds were the singsong of dolphins and the caress of ocean waves in her ear. The air smelled of flowers, sweat, tension, fear, residual energy, and cheap cologne. She collapsed the rest of the way to the floor and rolled over onto her back. At least now she could see what was going on without expending extra energy.
The Sentinels gaped at her, their weapons down by their sides. Calliope sat on her heels next to her. Her sister’s face was an unnatural shade of pale, and her brows formed one straight line. It looked like she might throw up. Advisor Jonus stood near the door to the receiving hall doubled over as though he were about to vomit. The blond stranger’s eyes were full of something she thought might be fear, and his hands balled into fists. Her mother stood next to Calliope with one hand on her sister’s shoulder. She looked regal—and pissed off.
“Well, so much for keeping this quiet.” Tarian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her arm throbbed. Through the stillness, the dolphin call continued. It meant something. Something important. Something she couldn’t quite pull out of the recesses of her brain. She was simply too tired.
The blond man looked around as he, too, realized the sound that remained in the air. He wore a suit, perfectly pressed, but his tie looked as though he’d twisted it in his hands. His eyes widened, and his hands fluttered by his side in agitation as he shifted from one foot to the other. He couldn’t possibly know the war she’d just been through inside her own body, but he’d surely felt the magic she discharged. She didn’t understand why it bothered him so much. It was her body, after all, not his. None of it had been directed at him.
“Just what are you trying to pull…” the man sputtered.
“You may leave now, Mr. Aiello. As you can see, I have other priorities.” Keeper Marielle raised her hand toward one of the alcoves in the entry just off the rotunda. A travel portal appeared, but Tarian couldn’t make out where it led from her position on the floor.
“This is not acceptable.” He glanced down at Tarian. He hesitated, on the verge of saying something. Whatever it was, he seemed to think better of it. He pulled himself up straight, and relaxed his hands. “Whatever this stunt was, I’m not impressed. You can’t brush this aside. You can’t just sit here in your island paradise, isolated from the real world, and expect to have any grasp of reality. People need guidance. They need supervision. We need the structure to support that. This…” he waved his hand at Tarian, “only serves to emphasize my point.”
“Sentinels, please see that Mr. Aiello arrives safely at his destination. We are closed to visitors for the remainder of the day.” Keeper Marielle glanced down at Tarian and Calliope. “Follow me, both of you.” Their mother returned to the Receiving Hall without looking to see if they obeyed.
Aiello glared at their mother’s retreating back. He took a step as if to follow her, but stopped when the Sentinels raised their weapons. Physically, the weapons looked like small handguns. Magically, they could put a man in stasis and render him unable to move, kill him or dismember him entirely, depending on the focus of the user. Aiello growled, then turned his back on the Sentinels and the Receiving Hall to stare at Tarian.
Tarian sighed and dragged herself to her feet with help from Calliope. “I wouldn’t hang out, if I were you. She’s not a pretty sight when she’s angry.”
“Scion.” He made the word sound more like a curse than a title. He smiled, although the expression never touched his eyes, straightened his tie and smoothed his jacket. His eyes traveled the length of her body and stopped as they reached her injured arm. She crossed her arms in an effort to hide the tear in her jacket—and the blood.
“Are you feeling well, Scion?” His expression changed abruptly from anger to curiosity and concern.
“I’m fine.”
He smiled. “I'm Victor Aiello. Leader for the Eastern region. I had hoped to meet you under more pleasant circumstances. Are you sure you’re not injured? That looks like a dangerous cut. Perhaps I was hasty. In my anger, I didn’t see clearly that you require attention. May I get a healer for you?”
“It was nice to meet you, Victor.” She wasn’t about to admit how injured she was to a stranger.
He paused for a fraction of a second, then nodded. “I certainly wouldn’t want to cause any more conflict with you already injured. Your mother is right. She has other priorities right now. It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Scion.”
His eyes flicked to her arm again before he turned away. She watched as he strode over to the travel portal and entered it.
What the hell was that glowing finger of power? She’d never seen, or felt, anything like it. It had followed her mother out the door and launched straight for her as if on purpose. It obviously had been sent by the Dolphin Throne, but she’d had no idea the throne could act on its own like that. Usually her mother invoked the power as an enhancement to her own. But surely her mother hadn’t known she was even in the rotunda, much less in any sort of trouble.
Maybe it was a reaction to Victor Aiello, rather than her internal tussle with a demon, but he seemed harmless enough. He hadn’t even gathered any power during the whole mess. Surely her mother hadn’t summoned dolphin magic just to send him out the door. The Sentinels could have done that.
Her thoughts collided with each other as Calliope pulled her through the doors and into the receiving hall. She let her sister guide her, too tired to do much else. Her eyes didn’t want to stay open, her head swam and the knot at the base of her neck weighed her down. Warmth from her sister’s touch spread down her arm until it reached the wound, where it stopped.
Halfway through the hall, her sister’s grip tightened on her arm. It wasn’t like Calliope to be tense, but she didn’t have the energy to figure out why. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. She stumbled, but Calliope steadied her.
Together they crossed the expansive room toward the platform which held the Dolphin Throne, along with a long table and several other normal chairs.
Her mother marched toward the seat of power as though on a mission. Tarian and Calliope followed. Advisor Jonus staggered behind them as though he were drunk. She’d giggle at the thought of him in that sort of state if she had any energy left. Their footsteps echoed off the stone floor and up the walls.
Her entire body hurt. She felt like she’d run a marathon after a bar fight. Her head pounded. She was cranky. And she smelled like puke.
Her mother paused at the bottom of the raised platform and turned toward Tarian. Her eyes held anger and some other emotion she couldn’t put a finger on. Panic? Concern? She wondered how those eyes would change when her mother found out what had really happened and the danger they were all in.
“Tarian, please remove the jacket. Jonus, please fetch Healer Chloe.”
Jonus flashed a look of resentment or irritation, but it was gone so fast she might have imagined it. He bowed and exited through the side door.
“Tarian.” Her mother’s voice sounded flat. So much for motherly concern.
“Mother.”
“Please remove your jacket and take a seat.” Marielle indicated the throne.
Tarian shrugged out of the leather jacket and let it fall to the floor. She didn’t look at her wound, but she saw Calliope’s eyes grow into two small moons that filled her face. Her arm throbbed again, one large pounding jolt that made her gasp.
The Dolphin Throne glowed brighter as she approached. The light pulsed in time to the throb in her arm. Now she knew what had provided the power surge, and why.
“Tarian.” Marielle pointed again to the throne.
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea.” Nobody ever sat in the Dolphin Throne asi
de from her mother. Nobody. As far as she knew, the throne wouldn’t allow it.
“The throne has properties you need. Now is not the time to argue.”
Tarian glared at her mother. She opened her mouth to protest. She’d contained the threat. She didn’t need to sit in that chair. She didn’t need the help. But her mother’s eyes filled with a knowing expression she knew all too well. She closed her mouth and shuffled forward. She was being stupid, and her mother called her bluff. Without ever uttering a word.
Calliope helped her up the three steps to the platform and over to the chair. As she moved next to the Dolphin Throne filaments of power reached out to her as they had in the rotunda, except now they seemed to wrap around her injured arm. The wound throbbed in response. The stone in her neck, shielded as it was, still punched her in small, tight jabs that tightened her shoulders.
Tarian paused. What would happen if she actually sat down? Some sort of war seemed to be brewing and she didn’t like how it was being waged inside her. Her body had taken about all it could for one day.
“I don’t think I should get any closer.”
“I think you should. Sit.” Keeper Marielle’s voice was soft, but there was a steely note underneath.
“I’m not sure what will happen.” Tarian turned to face her mother. The look of concern on her mother’s face was so unexpected it completely overwhelmed her.
“It’s already happened, Tarian. Whatever is going on with you, the damage is done. Now comes the hard part.”
“Fixing it?”
She saw her mother’s lips twitch.
“Tari, what’s going on?” Calliope looked back and forth between them as if watching a tennis match.
“I think the throne hates me.” Tarian clutched at her stomach as it churned. Her knees felt weak again. It was too much, too soon, on top of everything else that had happened today. She saw no other option, short of trying to run from the room. She didn’t think she’d make it down the stairs now, let alone out the door.
Tarian moved in front of the throne and sat.
Chapter 8
Warmth enveloped her and extended up her arm into the knot in her neck and shoulders. It soothed her body and comforted her soul, and wrapped the stone inside her neck in another layer of cushion. She sighed with relief and closed her eyes.
It felt wonderful. She let her consciousness go and drifted. Was this what her mother felt when she sat here? It was peace undulating in a rhythm, like ocean waves caressing a beach in, then out, then in again. She smelled hyacinth, and sand, and sea salt, and hibiscus. All of it blended into tropical scented paradise. Caressed by the throne’s power, she had no doubt that it belonged to the Pacific. Loving hands must have formed each animal on the wood. Dolphins sang it to life. Their cry echoed all around and through her, speaking of joy, of happiness, of safety, and serenity.
She wondered briefly what else the chair could do besides soothe strained nerves, but it didn’t really matter. She was happy to drift. Happy to let her internal struggle go. Happy to enjoy a moment of peace.
Bliss.
Voice intruded in her Zen moment. Harsh edges cut the soothing ocean kiss. She frowned. Why was there so much talking going on? Couldn’t they just let her rest a minute? She focused on the words. They came into her ears in pulses of sound which faded in and out and circled around her head. The voice sounded familiar. It belonged to someone kind. Someone she’d grown up with.
“I’m not sure what else we can do, Keeper. I’ve never seen anything quite like this. It’s as if something is draining her energy. I can’t stop it. The best I could do was bolster the shield she put in place. As you suspected, if she sits here, the magic of the throne replaces the power she’s losing. I think if she leaves the house, the power loss would escalate, but I can’t be sure. She needs rest and food, but beyond that I’m not sure how to stop this.… I’m sorry, Keeper.”
Tarian opened her eyes and found Healer Chloe frowning down at her hands where they rubbed the wound on Tarian’s arm. Chloe’s spiked purple hair wiggled as she worked on the sore muscle. Slowly Tarian’s brain registered that her arm no longer throbbed. She sighed in relief. Her stomach growled, loud enough for Chloe to raise an eyebrow.
“I could really use a cheesesteak.” Tarian’s mouth watered at the thought of her favorite meal. She tried to pull her arm away from Chloe, but the healer held it down.
“Ah, back with us, I see. Scion, how did you get this injury?”
Tarian looked around. Her mother, Calliope and Advisor Jonus all stared at her as if she had sprouted a horn or a third eye.
She sighed again, this time in irritation. Having to explain what happened to her mother, after she’d been warned about going in the first place, made her feel like a child caught doing something naughty.
“Long story short, a lizard man took a swipe at me. And now, according to Frankie and some guy named Daric Voltain, I’m a walking time bomb.” Tarian looked down at her arm. The wound had changed since she sat down. The large, angry welt was now a faint white scar, about 3 inches long. “Wow. Chloe, nice work.”
How had Chloe even had time to fix her arm? She’d only been there a couple of minutes. Come to think of it, when had Chloe even arrived?
“Thank you, Scion, but I didn’t do this on my own. Calliope helped. Now, tell me more about this lizard man. What did he look like?”
“Tall, dark, sorta grayish green and scaly. Claws for hands. You know, like an Amazon woman and a lizard had a baby.” Tarian shrugged. “What do you mean Calliope helped?”
“A real demon?” Calliope gasped. “In Philadelphia? But I thought they were a myth or extinct.”
“Did he know you?” Chloe’s voice was sharp. “Did he say your name?”
Tarian thought back. She remembered the smelly bum, who had obviously been sent to distract her in that alley long enough for the demon to catch her. Clever to use someone with no magic talent. She hadn’t felt threatened and hadn’t put up any defenses.
“No, he never used my name. But I’d say he knew me, yes. I’d say the whole thing was a set up.”
“What did he say?” Her mother moved to stand directly in front of her with her arms crossed.
“We didn’t exactly have time for polite conversation. The thing I remember most was him hissing at me. Oh, and he said, ‘You have something I need.’ Then he clawed my arm, licked some of the blood off the claw and left.”
Chloe glanced at Calliope. “It’s enough for the research.”
Calliope nodded, and ran for the door.
“What did I say?” Tarian watched her sister retreat in confusion.
Chloe cleared her throat, and patted Tarian’s wound. “Scion, it’s obvious both from your description of events and from your current condition that the demon was able to obtain a portion of your blood. While this hasn’t happened in hundreds of years, the medical journals are quite clear about what the demon, who by definition is half daemon or fae, will be able to do with your blood should he decide to use it, which he obviously has. We were able to cleanse the wound and seal it, but he’d already lodged a tracer which has traveled to the top of your spine.”
“A tracer? You mean that knot back here?” Tarian rubbed the back of her neck. A cold, hard lump bulged just under the surface of the skin. It pulsed, but at the moment the movement was slow and faint, as though it rested.
“He’s siphoning your power, Scion. While you sit here, in this house, in that chair, the effect is diminished. But now that he has a trace on you, it’s only a matter of time.”
Tarian heard Daric Voltain’s words echo through her head: “You have about a week.”
Great.
Marielle touched Tarian’s shoulder in a manner meant to be comforting. “While you remain here, the throne and I can protect you. We will solve this problem together.”
“Remain here…” Tarian’s voice trailed away. Stay here? Confined to the House, like a criminal?
“If I may, Kee
per…” Jonus stepped forward, his hands clasped together so tight his knuckles were white. “I think it would be wise to ensure the Scion’s safety at this crucial time by increasing the guards both around her person and the primary locations throughout the house and hallways, as well as increase the border patrol.”
“Guards?” She couldn’t keep the squeak out of her voice. “Are you trying to arrest me?”
Jonus flushed, and a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Of course not. I am merely suggesting that as Scion your safety is of utmost importance, and I must agree with the Keeper that you remain within the confines of these walls, with armed guard, so that we can better ensure the safety of you and the throne.”
“Agreed.” Marielle’s voice sounded firm, and final.
Tarian pushed her mother’s hand away and stood up. The cold look she saw in her mother’s eyes only added fuel to a fire already forging its way through her veins. Words spilled out before she could stop them. “I’m not sitting here doing nothing while everyone else risks their lives to solve the mess I created. Besides, I have the advantage. I can track him. Now that I’m rested, I can find him.” It was hard to be puffed up with bravado when she couldn’t even stand on her own two feet without leaning on the chair for support.
Marielle planted her feet and clasped her hands in front of her. “Tarian, you’ve missed several important details. Jonus is right. As the Scion, you simply can’t go running off after a creature that hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years, let alone one who can exert power over you. And as much as you might try to ignore it, something else has been triggered by your arrival bearing that trace.” Keeper Marielle lifted her hands, holding them out as if there were something in the air Tarian should pay attention to. Then she turned and pointed to the center of the room, at the floor.
Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld Page 116
