She accepted it in her heart and mind.
With acceptance, warmth from her sister and power from the throne infiltrated every part of her body. It restored her enough to add her own power to the mix. The three combined to become something that one alone could not.
Synergy.
The word wandered through her mind. Was it her sister or the throne or something else that spoke?
She lay there, gathering her strength, bathed in power. She glanced at her sister and saw for the briefest moment a gargoyle-like creature with his hand on Calliope’s shoulder.
Synergy. Two, together, are greater than one, alone. There is strength in yielding to the bond of another.
The creature vanished, as if it never had been there. The archivists, it seemed, weren’t above passing along their own messages.
She stood slowly, letting the blood in her body flow back to her head, hands and feet. Calliope stood with her and maintained the link of their hands.
Rasmussen turned, suddenly aware of them.
“You think to defeat me? Your magic is useless against me. Your kind can’t even fathom the power I hold.”
“If you mean that red mist, you’re right. I don’t understand it. But I understand this. We have each other. And you stand alone.”
History classes had taught Tarian that women held the greater part of magical power. That their genetic makeup made them able to hold more and utilize more. But she wasn’t sure that was entirely true, anymore. In this moment, she realized what made women stronger in magic power was their ability to let go of ego and join with another. To work together as a group.
She saw a slight smile on Calliope’s face. For the moment, they were one. Whatever came their way, they’d face together.
Calliope squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.
Ready?
She thought it in her mind. Calliope nodded. Together, they sent pulse after pulse of power at Rasmussen. Tarian used a water base which sang with the dolphin song, while Calliope sent an earth based jolt of rocks. Both slammed into Rasmussen. He staggered against it, his face bloody and his arms torn from the onslaught, but didn’t fall. His answering rage engulfed them in misty-red fire that burned. Tarian closed her eyes and kept firing, trusting the dolphin’s magic to guide her. She and her sister sent pulse after pulse, each one doing a bit more damage, though not enough. Not nearly enough.
What they needed was a steady stream. Something that would overcome his ability to fire back.
Tarian stopped the pulses, then opened herself wide and poured every ounce of power she could gather into a flow that stretched across the room and met Rasmussen. He managed to deflect so that the stream didn’t quite reach him. His red mist floated around her gold stream in a shower of sparks. Her body drained of power each second that went by. She couldn’t keep this up much longer, and Rasmussen knew it.
She could see his chest rise and fall in labored breathing, but he stood tall and strong. He didn’t falter.
“We have to do something else. This isn’t working. We can’t keep this up.” Calliope gasped. “Reverse the flow. Extraction.”
Reverse the flow? What did that mean? Just as Tarian was about to ask, she felt Calliope take the pull of magic and send out something Tarian had never seen before. It wasn’t fire, it wasn’t light…if anything, it was the absence of light. It was a black beam of nothingness, almost like a sponge. It reminded her of the banishment when she’d been summoned by Daric and the absence of magic in the cave, combined.
It rushed past the red mist and struck Rasmussen. He staggered, then roared. Tarian felt along it and felt it draining her, too.
Trying to figure it out, Tarian sent her own pulse down it, to be swallowed by the odd stream her sister had created.
“Reverse it!” Calliope gasped.
Calliope collapsed down onto the floor as Tarian took the stream of magic away from her. The black bar of absorption rebounded on her while her attention was diverted, and for a moment she thought she’d burst from it. Calliope’s magic was still there, mixed with the dolphin throne’s, combined with Rasmussen’s odd half-demon rage, combined with her own.
Her head split in blinding pain. Every pore on her skin hurt, and her stomach churned in revolt. Her eyes held their own laser-light show. Lightning struck through her vision, blinding her to almost everything else. Rainbow colors flared every time the lightning in her eyes struck, and every time it did, waves of pain reverberated through her head. Dry heaves made it impossible to breathe, and her ribs shot pain through her with each dry hack.
Not thinking, not even considering what it might do, she closed her eyes. She took as deep a breath as she could manage and pulled on Rasmussen’s odd red energy. Relentless, she pulled through the pain, through the heat. The acrid smell of burning hair filled her nose and she gagged. She opened her eyes. Rasmussen moved silently toward her, his eyes wide and terrified. She now had more power than she could hold and had no idea what to do with it. Panic gripped her. Not knowing what else to do, she released the gathered power all in one shot, directly to Rasmussen.
He gaped at her, throwing his hands up to ward off the blow as it struck him. The force lifted him fully off the floor where he hovered for a brief second, then exploded. His body turned to red dust that rushed forward, coating everything in its path. Tarian ducked, throwing herself down over Calliope.
When she was finally able to look up, Rasmussen was gone, rubble coated the floor, a brilliant blue sky burned through the skylight, and her hair was on fire.
Chapter 41
Tarian pulled up her shirt to smother the flames in her hair. Fire touched flesh, and pain shot through her hands up her arms. Her stomach heaved at the acrid smell and the crunch of burnt hair on her fingers. Everywhere, pain. She beat at the fire with her shirt until it went out, and then fell onto her back.
Not enough air. She coughed. Rolled to the side to ease the pressure on her stomach and lungs.
Her mother. Needed help. She had to get up. Had to get to her. A lightning show behind her eyes prevented her from seeing the room. Next to her, Calliope lay in a crumpled heap, her breath ragged but steady.
Another fit of coughs wracked her body. Damn dust. Other coughs and moans issued from different corners of the room. She had no way of knowing who they belonged to and didn’t care. Her mother needed help.
“Healers! We need healers in here!” She tried to yell the words but couldn’t be sure if she managed above a whisper. Everything hurt.
After a moment, her eyes settled down so that she only saw flashes of light when she blinked, and the room came into focus. Her stomach churned as the room spun around her for a moment.
Calliope groaned. Tarian turned to her sister and placed a soothing hand on her arm. Her sister opened her eyes, then gasped and closed them again.
“My head.” She moaned, and put both hands up to her temples.
“I know, me too,” Tarian whispered and softly brushed back some of her sister’s hair. “It goes away. Just breathe deep and be still.”
Reassured that Calliope was fine, Tarian pulled herself to her feet. Daric lay with part of his body supported by a piece of table. Victor sprawled next to him. His chest didn’t move.
A feminine, weak moan from the corner of the room ripped her attention away from the two men.
“Mother!” She stepped as fast as she could around the bits of ceiling and broken tables to her mother. Black stone and bits of ceiling pinned her mother's lower body to the floor. Blood poured down the side of her mother’s face.
“Mother.” She tried to move the stones, but they were too heavy and her body too exhausted. She couldn’t use her magic. She couldn’t even lift her arms. She was spent, in every way imaginable. It was all she could do not to pass out. “Help. Someone, help.”
She looked around. Calliope attempted to get to her feet. Daric looked dazed.
Jonus appeared from somewhere. She couldn’t track his movements. He was just th
ere, ever the faithful sidekick. He knelt beside her mother and lay a hand on her forehead. “Oh, Keeper.”
“Get help! Get a healer, Jonus.”
He obeyed without a word, rushing through the side door and into the hall.
Tears burned the corners of her eyes. Tarian blinked, but more followed.
“Someone help me move this rock.” She tried to shout but couldn’t tell if anyone heard. She pulled on the smallest stone and it rolled off her mother. She tried another. Her arms were so tired, so heavy.
“Tarian.” Her mother groaned.
Calliope fell to her knees next to her mother and clasped her mother’s hand.
“Calli, can you fix it? You can heal.”
Calliope closed her eyes. The knuckles turned white, and her face paled. She couldn’t have much magic left, either, after the fight they’d just had.
She put her hand on her sister’s and tried to add what little strength she had. The energy from the Dolphin Throne surrounded them to create a strong, enduring, tireless stream filled with the magic of the sea and the dolphins who created it. Tarian leaned into it, letting her senses open to pull on it, and gasped from the headache that bloomed.
“I can’t. Tari, it’s too much. I can’t.”
Tarian looked at her sister. Their eyes met. Tears spilled onto Calliope’s cheeks.
“We have the throne’s power. It will work. It has to!”
“Tarian…” Marielle’s voice was barely there at all.
She’d never seen her mother look so weak. This was a strong woman, a woman always in charge of the situation. A woman others followed without question.
“Mother. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have listened. I should have…” Tarian brushed a stray hair from her mother’s forehead.
She looked at Calliope and saw her own pain reflected in her sister’s eyes. Body aches, pains, headaches, all of it had been forgotten in this last moment with their mother.
Her mother gasped, coughed, then spent the next several moments coughing. Calliope helped to lean her forward.
She took several ragged breaths, and then her eyelids fluttered open again. Her eyes found Tarian’s.
“Keeper.”
Her mother coughed, and then turned her head to look at Calliope.
“Calliope…follow your own…”
Marielle laid back and closed her eyes. Her body shuddered.
“Together…you can change…” Her body convulsed, her lips gasping at air that would not fill her lungs. Then her body was still. Their mother was gone.
Stunned, Tarian didn’t move. A faint breeze moved her hair, like the gentle touch of a hand. A mother’s hand, saying goodbye. Seconds slowed down into long moments. Time lost meaning. The world dimmed.
A sniffle brought her out of herself. Calliope. Tears coated her sister’s face. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and glanced up to see Alex, with Daric right behind him.
Running footsteps echoed down the hall and into the room. Sentinels, armed and ready for battle, followed by Jonus and Chloe.
Chloe hurried to Marielle’s side and gently tried to shift Tarian away. She refused to move. She wouldn't leave her mother alone. Not here. Not ever again.
Alex took her arms and lifted her away from her mother. She gave up protesting. Her body wouldn't let her.
Chloe hovered over their mother’s body, checking every vital sign. When she patted Calliope on the arm, Tarian knew. She’d known anyway, but somehow confirmation made it so much worse.
The world shattered.
Words drifted by. Calliope sobbed. The room spun. In the midst of it all, dolphins cried, and the ocean waves which usually soothed her instead sent wave after wave of grief coursing through her body.
She had no idea how long she sat there in the rubble. Did it matter if she stayed there forever? Did it really matter if she kept going? Life wasn’t supposed to be this way. She wanted to rewind the past few days and start them over. She’d never go to that alley. She’d listen to her mother, and stay here and absorb all she could. She’d do it all better. Different.
Would she?
Somehow, she knew she wouldn’t. Even if she had the chance to do it all again, it seemed like every step she’d taken was the right one at the time. She’d followed this path to this moment, and now…now her mother was dead. And it was her fault. Hers, and the man who’d planned this whole thing. Victor Aiello.
She clenched her jaw and fists. Victor Aiello, insane in his lust for power. He’d caused this. He’d sent people to trick her, to attack her, to steal things and manipulate her. He’d found a traitor in her own house to lure her away and start this roller-coaster ride.
A traitor in her own house.
Beware the danger within.
She looked up. Advisor Jonus stood over her mother’s body, talking with Chloe. Making arrangements, no doubt. Planning the funeral. Planning Tarian’s ascension to the throne. Planning next steps.
His clothes were remarkably clean. He didn’t have a scratch on him. He obviously hadn’t been in the room when the ceiling collapsed. Anyone who had been was covered in dust, dirt, scrapes and bruises. He’d pulled her mother into this room, and then vanished. There was only one reason he'd have rushed out of this room when everything was in such chaos and the Keeper so obviously in need of assistance.
He’d known.
Tarian stumbled to her feet and pushed Alex out of the way so she could have a clear shot at Jonus. She tried to gather power, but nothing responded at first. The fight, the turmoil, drained her to nothing. The Dolphin Throne pulled her toward it like a beacon of safety. She went to it, and sat. Dolphins called, circled, encased her in warmth and power. Warmth enveloped her as though she rode the ocean waves. The salt in the water, the air, and her tears combined to fill her. If ever there was a time to kill someone, it was now. Jonus had betrayed her family. He’d betrayed the magic of this place and their way of life. He was responsible for it all. She should kill him.
She lashed out, pouring every ounce of magic she could into the bolt she sent hurtling toward Jonus.
Chapter 42
“Tarian!” Alex’s jaw dropped as he looked from Tarian to where Jonus hung, suspended, several feet off the air, in stasis.
“Alex, please take Jonus to the holding cells.” Her voice had never sounded so like her mother’s: calm, collected and absolutely in control, though exhausted. The stasis she'd thrown at Jonus locked him in place, including his frozen expression one of shock and, she thought, defeat. He knew that she knew, in the moment before the spell hit.
For his actions, she should have killed him. He deserved it. But deep within her, something pushed back at the thought. It wouldn't help, and it wouldn't bring her mother back. Answers might eventually soothe the pain, but she wouldn't get those if he were dead. The Cellar, level three, was where he belonged. Stasis, forever, haunted by the memories of what he'd done. After she’d questioned him, of course.
“Tarian!” Calliope covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes wide, she stared at Jonus.
Silence, so thick it took the breath away, coated the room as everyone turned to watch. Daric stepped forward, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Unlike Jonus, his clothes were coated in grime, his face covered in scratches and blood dripped down his leg.
“Daric said it. Someone inside this house is a traitor. Someone sent me to that alley. Someone who knew me and my habits, who had knowledge of the databases and the people who live here. Someone who knew the Sentinels and which one would be likely to earn a favor from me. Someone who sent me to get a dangerous book and knew I’d most likely follow the spell pointed out to me. Someone who knew that I’d already fulfilled the ritual without waiting for this reception because that someone saw the Dolphin Throne react.
“That person dragged my mother into this room during the heat of battle, a battle most didn’t even know was taking place. He knew Rasmussen would have control of me because he knew the shield
had been cracked. He knew I was weak, after having been banished and summoned. My mother would have told him everything.
“And he knew the rules of the succession ritual. He knew the second the Keeper entered the room during battle, that the throne would be up for grabs to anyone who defeated her and her heir. And I’d already been defeated. That left only one person standing in the way.”
She turned to Jonus. “Did you plan on taking it yourself, Jonus? Or did you think Victor would give you something in return for stealing it for him? I paid my price for keeping the throne safe. What was your price for betrayal? Just how far does this conspiracy go?”
Jonus couldn’t answer. He would eventually. He’d answer not just to her, but to everyone he’d betrayed.
“You got no proof, chica.” Alex kept his voice low. “The leaders are gonna want solid proof.”
“She has it.” The voice behind her sounded grim, and determined.
Tarian tore her eyes away from Jonus to see Frankie stepping over the rubble. His uniform disheveled, his hair singed, and dirt coated his face.
“I found the digital trail he left. He’d tried to wipe it, but it was still there, if you knew where to look. It matched up with traces of code we found when we checked into Mark Chester.”
Alex nodded. If Frankie said it was true, it was true. Alex trusted his brother with his life. Just as Tarian trusted her sister. And them. She nodded her agreement.
Alex and Frankie took Jonus by the arms and pulled him out of the room on a cushion of air. She watched them go.
“What about you, Daric?” Tarian turned to face him. She didn’t know who she could trust anymore. Her current list would fit in one hand. Her sister. Alex. Frankie.
Did Daric fit on the list?
“What about me?” He lifted his chin and crossed his arms.
“Your brother?” She pointed to Victor’s lifeless form. “This…is your brother? Did you plan it with him? Was this all a trick for the two of you to get into my bed? To put a child on the throne? Are you in on it?” Her voice rose an octave on the last few words. They hurt to say.
Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld Page 141
