“The spells are still active?” I’d killed Simon months ago. Someone should have figured out what he was using to protect his shit ages ago.
“Three have gone in. None have come back out.”
“Is the council sure they’re dead?” But even as the question left my lips, I knew it was stupid. This was Simon we were talking about. The man was a murderous psychopath on a good day. It was only made worse by the fact that he had been a warlock, giving him carte blanche to raise whatever the hell he wanted without fear of retribution.
“If their screams are anything to go by, then yes, they’re all dead.”
Sighing, I leaned my head back against the wall and stared up at the sliver of sky I could see between the buildings. It was an ugly orangish black as the lights of the city hit against the heavy black clouds overhead, leaving you with a claustrophobic feeling like you were trapped in a bell jar with all the other insects.
I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going back to the Towers in the first place, particularly the Dresden Tower, since that’s where all the horrors of my life actually took place. But I needed to research Death Magic, not to mention a few other things that Gideon and the council didn’t need to know about.
Adding to my dilemma was the fact that if anyone could get into Simon Thorn’s rooms, it was most likely going to be me. I had studied under the bastard. I knew the spells and wards that he favored. Hell, I used half of them to this day. I learned to unravel most of them so they wouldn’t kill me in my sleep each night. The only concern was whether Simon had bothered to change all his spells after I left the Towers when I was a teenager. If he hadn’t, there was a good chance I could get in quite easily. If he had, I was so fucked.
But what choice did I have?
“Let me head home and get changed into something Towers appropriate,” I said with a sneer as I turned back toward the main street and my car.
“You don’t have to do this,” Gideon said, catching me with a hand on my shoulder.
“We both know I do,” I grumbled. “If it’s not this, then it’ll be for some other reason. Everyone knows I’m their best shot at getting in there, and I’m sure there are some nosy pricks who are dying to know what the hell Simon was up to.”
“Then we go now.” As he spoke, a biting chill swept down my body like icy hands sliding over my flesh from my shoulders to my feet. I tried to jerk away but Gideon held tight to my shoulder. Glancing down at myself, I found that I was now wearing the uniform of the guardians, leaving behind the guise of the mild-mannered tattoo artist with the charming disposition.
“Warn me next time,” I snapped before one last shiver claimed me.
I thought I heard Gideon give a derisive snort, but the world blinked out and there was no sound at all — only the all-consuming silence of the nothing we traveled through to get to Germany in the blink of an eye. A rise of panic had me clenching my teeth because it felt like there was no air to breathe in the emptiness, but even as that frantic thought formed in my brain, we were in Germany. I had to shield my eyes for a second against the glare of the moonlight coming off the snow after the darkness that had consumed me.
The Dresden Ivory Tower rose up like a pale, bony finger against the thick velvet night sky. The forest that surrounded the structure had been pushed back as if even nature feared to draw too close to the witches and warlocks that lived inside. My heart gave a couple hard thumps at the sight of the structure and my breathing grew ragged around the lump that had formed in my throat.
The last time I had seen this Tower I had stood before the council waiting to hear if I was to be killed for my rebellion against my mentor and my attempts to escape. Obviously, I was allowed to live, but there had been a price. And in the end, whatever concessions I thought I had won proved to be false because I was right back here ten years later. Only this time, I had asked for entrance into their bloodstained halls.
“I brought us in this way because I wasn’t sure if Master Thorn had a secret entrance that you could use,” Gideon said when I no longer sounded like I was at risk of hyperventilating. There was no missing the note of hope in his tone.
“If he did, I don’t know about it.” My voice sounded like it had been dragged across the concrete. I never thought I’d find myself back here. And when Simon had been killed, I’d hoped I would never have to think about him or my past again. It’s amazing how fucking wrong I can be at times.
Clearing my throat, I took a step forward and then another one, relieved to find that it grew easier as long as I kept my mind on the task at hand. Getting into Simon’s rooms meant my getting into the library, which meant that I was closer to finding the killer and finding a way to keep Trixie and our baby safe. Now I just had to enter Simon’s rooms without having my organs pulled out through my belly button.
Gideon wordlessly commanded the massive double doors to open and we stepped inside the Tower, escaping the bitter cold for something that felt so much worse—a heart-sickening familiarity that was almost comforting. Ten years had passed and it all looked the same. The floor was covered in cold gray marble and the walls were a deep charcoal gray, while smoky white globes of light dotted the walls at regular intervals. There was a hint of burnt heather in the air along with a whiff of lavender, both of which just barely failed to mask the coppery tang of old blood.
But it wasn’t the scents or sights that nearly had me gagging. It was the fact that something in my body relaxed upon returning. I had lived here for nine years—longer than I ever lived with my real family, who loved and treated me with kindness. This Tower had become my life, my future, and my entire world. No matter the horrors I survived, the people I had killed, or the times I had nearly died myself, something in my psyche called this place home.
“I can go up to Thorn’s door with you, but I can’t help you beyond that,” Gideon said, breaking the silence after allowing me a couple of minutes to merely stare at my stark surroundings.
“No. I’ll meet you in the library after I’m done,” I said once I felt that I had a firm handle on my emotions.
“Gage, you don’t—”
“Yeah, I do.” Glancing over my shoulder at his, I flashed him a twisted grin. “Don’t worry. I remember the way.”
Striding across the open main hall, I stopped before a quartet of large black openings along the wall. They were like car-less elevators that could take you to any location within the Towers. You just had to have the balls to use them. Or maybe you had to be a little insane.
I sucked in a deep breath and forced myself to step into the open black pit. My heart clenched as my foot fell a couple inches, pulling my entire body down before it hit a solid floor. I stepped the rest of the way into the opening, so that it looked as if I were hovering in open air. Without needing to close my eyes, I thought of the location of Simon’s old rooms and my body was thrust upward at a startling rate by an unseen force. The openings for the other floors flashed by in a splash of white light before I suddenly stopped just a couple floors from the top.
As I stepped off into the foyer of the floor, a terrified scream echoed up through the empty chamber, sending all the hairs on my neck to standing on end. The scream came from a child, likely a new apprentice who had yet to grow accustomed to this mode of travel through the Tower. I’d seen too many warlocks and witches push their new wards into the tunnels so that they could wring a scream out of them. Travelling up wasn’t so bad as you had a base to start with. Descending to the lower levels almost always left you confident that you were going to smack into the hard paving stones at the bottom, shattering every bone in your body. It took years for that fear to finally subside. Luckily it only took a few months for a new apprentice to stop screaming. But at that point, the mentor usually gave them something new to scream about.
The empty shaft opened into a short narrow hallway that led to the main foyer of the floor. The circular foyer was surrounded by four doors that led to the private rooms of four different warlocks or witche
s. A dim light glowed in the center the foyer, lacing all with a thin gray shadow.
Everything was silent as I stood there, looking at the other doors. It was nearly five in the morning in Dresden and soon the apprentices would be stirring from their tiny cots and uncomfortable pallets to prepare the morning meal for their mentors. I tried to move silently, but I was sure they had already heard my footsteps across the stone floor. The smart ones learned not to sleep too deeply. There was no telling what would sneak up on you when you were at your most vulnerable.
With some reluctance, I finally dragged my gaze off to the left, where Simon’s door stood. The shadows were thicker there, as if whatever malevolent spell he’d set on his rooms was leaking out into the main foyer in search of fresh territory to conquer. Closing my eyes for a second, I took a deep breath and pushed my memories of the bastard to the back of my brain. Simon Thorn was dead. I had killed him and sent him down to the Underworld. He wouldn’t hurt me any longer.
I needed to stay focused on unraveling the spells that lay before me.
Stepping closer to the door, I put out my hand and immediately snatched it back. I was right. The protection spell was starting to leak out. The air wavered slightly and there was a tingling along my skin like little needles digging into my flesh. Apparently if you left whatever he had created running too long, it decided to expand its reach. That or it was affected by all the magic that hung in the air within the Towers because of all the damn magic users. I had heard of incidents where spells went a little wild because of the errant magic, but hadn’t personally encountered it until now.
With a frown, I decided the best course was to start with the easy stuff that I knew he’d still have in effect. Patting down my pockets, I located a piece of white chalk I had started carrying with me at all times. On my knees outside the door, I put the chalk to the bottom of the frame and whispered a cleansing spell. After a couple seconds, writing along the frame shimmered into view. Simon was fond of using invisible chalk to inscribe some of his wards. I just had to go back over them in reverse to undo each of them.
As I completed the last one, there was loud cracking sound as if part of the wooden frame split. I leaned close to inspect the door frame when something large and angry slammed into the back side of the door, causing the heavy barrier to rattle in the frame. I jumped back, my heart launching into my throat as I stared at the door. Claws scratched against the wood, as if the creature was trying to climb through it to get to me. What the fuck had Simon set loose in there?
I crabwalked backward until I was seated in the middle of the dimly lit foyer, waiting for the scratching to cease. There were no other sounds coming from the room besides the claws on the wood and stone floors. No growling or snarling. There were any number of creatures you could summon up that loved nothing more than to snack on weaker creatures, but I should have heard some other noises. None of them were mute. They were also a bitch to control and I didn’t think even the strongest witch or warlock would be insane enough to use one.
When the clawing had ceased, I pushed to my feet, trying to ignore the shaking that had crept into my hands. The attack didn’t resume when I approached the door again, but I didn’t take that as a sign that the creature had curled up in its little bed and gone to sleep. It was waiting for me to enter.
Inspecting the door and the frame again, I was disappointed to find that there weren’t any other spells guarding the entrance. There was no more stalling. Shoving the chalk back into my pocket, I pulled out my wand and carefully erected as many shields and protective wards as I could on myself before uttering the unlocking spell.
Soundlessly, the door swung open. I tried a lighting spell, knowing that there had to be lamps or candles in there to push back the darkness, but nothing happened. Wonderful. I either stepped into the black pit of death or gave up on saving my relationship with Trixie. Man, I was an awesome boyfriend!
Calling up a ball of white light, I stepped over the threshold with it hovering just over my shoulder. It did little to cast light over the room. The shape of a chair a few feet in front of me and what might have been a table cluttered with books were barely discernible within the gloom.
And then something moved. It crossed from right to left, as if circling me. I didn’t see it so much as felt the movement within the darkness, as if it were nothing more than a ripple of energy. Twisting around to try to keep whatever it was in view, I tightened my grip on my wand. My heart was pounding and my palms were growing sweaty, making me feel as if my wand was going to slip right out of my hand.
The door slammed shut, cloaking the room in darkness. My body tensed, waiting, but the creature didn’t attack. It moved around me again, drawing a little closer as if testing what I’d tolerate. The only sound in the room was my breathing as it broke past my lips in short gasps. There were no sounds of claws on the stone floor, no shuffling sounds of cloth or the rub of fur. I couldn’t even hear it breathing.
That’s when it dawned on me that this was no living creature I was facing. As I had feared, this thing was similar to what I had guarding the basement of Asylum. But even as my heart ramped up with this sickening idea, I was confused as to why it hadn’t attacked yet. The spell at Asylum launched itself at anything that just partially descended the stairs, ripping the poor fucker to shreds. If this were the same thing, I should have been dead before clearing the threshold.
It was watching me. Waiting.
Praying that my shields would hold, I pulled together the same spell I used to disarm the protection spell at Asylum. As I did, the creature in the darkness drew closer on my left. I couldn’t see a shape or any defining features. It was just the sense of a massive force that was a little darker than the unyielding blackness of the room.
Why are you trying to lock me up?
The words drifted through my brain, but it felt as if they had been hissed in my ear. I lurched back a step, trying to put some distance between myself and the darkness. But there was no getting away. The force was everywhere in the room, crowding close but still not harming me. Was it toying with me? Playing with its food out of boredom? That couldn’t be because that would mean this wasn’t just a spell. This dark energy was a thinking, feeling creature.
“Why haven’t you attacked yet?” I asked, trying to make sense out of what I was faced with.
She’s asked me not to kill you.
“She? She who?” I barked.
The thing laughed without making a sound. I could feel its amusement, leaving behind the feeling of oily sludge sliding down the back of my throat. The darkness rippled and the little light I had created winked out. I couldn’t see anything, not even a strip of light leaking into the room from under the door. I wasn’t even sure I was still in Simon’s rooms but was now floating in nothingness.
The one you’ve been promised to.
“Lilith?” I breathed as my hearted threatened to explode in my chest.
It didn’t answer. It didn’t have to. Besides the fact that Simon had handed over a chunk of my soul to the Queen of the Underworld, I had killed two people using magic. I owed magic two years of my life and when it came time for me to pay up, Lilith was the one I went to serve.
The creature laughed again and I fought the growing wave of nausea threatening to send what little I had eaten that day up my throat. Clenching my teeth, I drew in air through my nose and slowly released it, pushing back against my twisting stomach. Puking now would break my concentration and I’d lose all the protective spells I was clinging to. I certainly didn’t trust this thing not to attack me just because Lilith had asked nicely.
“You’re one of her monsters then,” I said when some of the queasiness had passed.
What twisted amusement I had felt from this thing disintegrated in a heartbeat and it was instantly on me, knocking me to the ground. Even without a body, it felt as if the creature was crouched over me, pinning me to the cold hard stones.
Not hers! Demon, not monster, it snarled.
The demon’s anger receded with my words and it retreated. I was slow to get to my feet. My knees were jelly and couldn’t hold me. Sadly, I think the demon had also fried my common sense, because I still couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Fine, Demon Not Monster. You’re following Lilith’s suggestion, but she doesn’t control you. Why bother listening to her request?”
If it was going to give me a free pass at breathing, I wanted to know why. The hope was that if I knew the real reason, then I was likely to find the boundaries of its good will. A stupid hope, I was sure, but I was afraid of running into the situation where if it thought too much about its decision to let me live, it might discover that its reasons weren’t all that good after all.
Why would I kill the one who lets me out to play?
A chill ran down my spine, raising the hairs on my arms. I opened my mouth to argue that I had no dealings with demons but something shifted slightly in the creature as it drew away from me and it suddenly felt . . . familiar. The same feeling that had hit me when I first stepped into the room.
“Shit,” I hissed, stumbling backward. The demon moved, closing the distance between us to push against my back to keep me from falling on my ass. I jerked away from it, but didn’t take any additional steps. My head was spinning. The protection spell in the basement of Asylum, the energy I set loose to attack anyone that entered my private domain, was a demon.
I cursed myself and my stupidity for ever trusting a powerful protection spell I copied off of Simon. It should have been no surprise that the warlock has been messing with things no sane person would have used. Everyone said demons couldn’t be controlled. They’d tear your heart out just for laughs and slurp up your soul as a cocktail. All they knew was pain and destruction.
Demon's Vow: Part 2 of the Final Asylum Tales (The Asylum Tales series) Page 6
