It took time for her to repair over a century worth of damage. Then, finally, no sign of decay remained. Eyes closed, she slid her magic through his body to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. He couldn’t say she hadn’t followed through on their bargain. Her promise to return him to his former glory had been fulfilled.
Sighing, her hands fell from his temples to her lap. “Good as new,” she murmured as she sat back and opened her eyes. Her magic was almost completely drained, and her body ached with misuse. “Now give me the cure.”
For a moment Ga’loh didn’t move, and she wondered if she had killed him. All that work for nothing. But then he opened his eyes, his gaze bright and unnatural. He stood slowly, taking inventory of each part of his body, a wide smile spreading across his face.
“I need a mirror.” Lilura raced toward him with a shard of glass. He tore it from her hands and held it to his face. As he saw his reflection, his posture straightened.
After a few seconds, he threw the glass to the floor. It shattered, scattering across the ground. Head thrown back, he muttered an incantation. The air in the room was suddenly dense with unearthly magic. Prince Ga’loh was back, and deadly.
Brenna said a quick prayer they were strong enough to pull this off.
Ga’loh turned to her and, for the first time, she saw him full in the face. Her stomach dropped. Every curse word, in every language she had ever learned, threatened to spill from her lips.
She now knew why he had seemed familiar. Before, under the layers of rotten skin, it had been impossible to see the truth. But now, fully restored, his skin shining with health, it was unmistakable.
Ga’loh looked exactly like Adare.
Ga’loh laughed. Still naked, he padded across the dirt floor in his bare feet to an iron chest in the far corner of the room. Pulling it open, he pulled out a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt. Holding them in his hands, he turned to face her before pulling them on.
“Bet you didn’t see that coming.” He grinned as he slipped on his pants. His muscular chest gleamed in the firelight. “What is Adare to you?” She stood, her legs shaking.
Ga’loh pulled his shirt over his head, then turned back to her. “He’s my older brother. And he’s more powerful than you can imagine.”
Brenna snorted, masking her fear in bravado. “No one’s invincible.”
“Go on believing that, little Shadow Bearer, if it helps you sleep at night.”
“Fulfill your promise.” She picked the discarded dagger up from the floor and handed it to him blade first. “I want your blood, now.”
He laughed but took the blade. It sliced his hand, and he grasped it tighter. Blood spilled from the wound, falling onto the dirt. He motioned to Lilura, and she threw him a small mason jar. He pressed it against his arm until it was almost full. “That should give you your precious cure,” he said, handing the dripping jar to Brenna. She handed the glass to Seraph, who found a lid and shoved it in the duffel.
“How do I use it?” Brenna demanded. The room was beginning to spin, and darkness tinged her vision. The ritual had drained her even more than she expected.
“How should I know? My uncursed blood made the toxin, so it’ll make the cure as well.” He grinned.
“You swore.” Brenna was shaking. She held onto the wall to remain upright.
“I promised to give you the means to find the cure.” He grinned. “And I’ve done that.”
Brenna tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, that Lucy would come through once she had Ga’loh’s blood, but she wasn’t convinced. Regardless, she had to keep the plan moving. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mira move into position behind Lilura. There was a shift of movement behind her from the tunnels. Hilda and Agnes were in place. Ga’loh’s back was to them, but she saw a second of recognition on Lilura’s face. She opened her mouth to warn Ga’loh, but she was too slow. Mira reached forward and snapped her neck. The witch crumpled to the ground.
Ga’loh glanced over his shoulder at the dead witch and shook his head. “Damn witch is useless.” He glanced at Brenna. “You’re taking this well.”
She ignored him. Trusting Seraph to cover her back, she stepped away from Ga’loh. Her body was weak, but it vibrated with rage as she moved to where she had placed the three ceremonial knives. In a flicker of movement she grabbed the handles of two, tossing the first to Seraph, and the second to Mira. They caught them in a blur of motion. She clutched the third blade and started toward the demon. Once she had trapped with her spell, they would imbed the blades in his flesh, trapping him in his human form.
“Turning on me already.” Ga’loh shook his head. “I wondered how long it would take. Your witches haves been getting impatient.” He motioned to the tunnels.
Brenna’s heart fell. How had he known? They’d been so careful.
“Ga’loh smiled. “Our eyes and ears are everywhere. After Sam destroyed your headquarters, I thought you’d be smarter.” His eyes narrowed. “My pet demon ran you to the ground. After he killed Damien, I thought for sure the gig would be up, that you’d figure it out. I gave you too much credit.”
Sam had killed Damien? Brenna didn’t want to believe it, but the words rang true. “And headquarters? Did you use him for that too?”
“Nope. That spell came straight from Adare. I may have sworn an oath not to hurt you until you could heal me, but he didn’t. Once Sam told us what you were planning, we couldn’t let such a golden opportunity pass.”
Brenna gripped the blade, her knuckles white. “Why Sam? He had a good life here.”
Ga’loh snorted. “He’s an incubus, a lesser demon. He was born to serve me. He was here, so we used him.”
Brenna linked with Seraph and Mira. Despite the setback, they were to go ahead as planned, converge on him together; she’d pool their magic and trap him with a spell, then Agnes would take over. Ga’loh was in position and the witch had been taken out of the battle. Everything was a go.
Ga’loh grinned and beckoned them forward. As they stalked toward him, the humor fell from his gaze and she felt him call his magic. It wrapped around him, a smoky mist in the dim light. Power danced across his skin as he moved. With a wave of his wrist and a short incantation, the ceremonial knives flew from Seraph and Mira’s hands and into the fire. They had been for show, everything hinging on her confinement spell, but without their back-up she didn’t know if she could hold it long enough for Agnes to work her magic. Diseased and near death, Ga’loh had been a force to be reckoned with. Healed he was an immovable force. If they couldn’t find a way to stop him, he would kill them all.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brenna gathered what was left of her magic as Ga’loh stalked toward her. There was a hint of glee in his eyes and a smile played across his lips. She took a step back. Her butt hit the wall, and she faltered as her power struggled to respond to her call.
“As much as I appreciate you healing me, I can’t let you live.” Ga’loh batted away a fireball Seraph had conjured. Shooting him an irritated glance, the demon moved forward until he was toe to toe with Brenna. “If it makes you feel any better, Gray is already dead.” He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
“He’s not. I would know.” Brenna ignored the urge to check. She was in no position to waste her magic. She grabbed Seraph’s hand and squeezed. The only reason she had any semblance of power over Ga’loh was because a portion of her magic now flowed inside his body. Magic she could control. But once her spell was complete, she would be as vulnerable as a human.
She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the demon breathing on her face. An incantation on her tongue, she flung her power at him like a net. It twined around him from groin to neck, holding him immobile while she completed the spell. Ga’loh was frozen, his body encased in an ice-like structure. There was hatred in his gaze, and she knew if Agnes’ spell didn’t work, he would
rip them limb from limb.
“Work the spell,” she called to Agnes. “I don’t know how much time we have.”
Agnes stepped from the shadows and Brenna felt a sharp drain on her magic. The witch had begun the spell. Magic grew around them, a bluish-green rope of power that danced through the cave, twining through the tunnels, then returning.
“You haven’t won yet,” Ga’loh smirked.
But before Brenna could even process his words, Hilda stepped from the safety of the tunnels to stand alongside Agnes. Magic swirled around her in a cloud of gold, winding around her slender form and trailing through her long blond curls. Brenna had never realized how beautiful she was, but, in that moment, her hair thrown back, her green eyes wide and focused, she was breathtaking.
Ga’loh laughed. It was a bitter cackle that made Brenna’s skin crawl. “Must feel nice having a tangible body again, but you’re still a ghost.”
Hilda locked her eyes on the demon. Ga’loh murmured an incantation under his breath. A dark cloud of magic knocked Hilda from her feet, but she never flinched.
A magical whip had begun to wrap around Ga’loh’s feet to trail up his body. Pain filled his gaze and he threw his head back and screamed. The ice surrounding him exploded in shards. Turning to the witches, he sliced his fingernail across his wrist. Tarlike blood glistened in the firelight. He flicked the liquid in the air and shouted an incantation.
Hilda screamed. The pain-filled cry echoed across the dirt corridors as she fell to the floor writhing. Her human body caught flame and turned to ash before their eyes. With her last shout, Agnes’s spell dissolved. The spell didn’t work without the sacrifice.
Brenna drew her athame, but her hand trembled around the blade. She was in no condition to fight. If she took on Ga’loh, she’d be dead in a minute. A quick glance at Seraph and Mira and she realized they’d had the same thought. On a good day, they may have been able to take him, but not today. They were dead in the water.
Brenna looked behind Ga’loh, heart pounding. Agnes stood beside the remnants of Hilda’s burnt body, a stricken look on her face. Golden waves of power danced around her slight form as she moved forward. Dressed in a white sweater and jeans, she had tied her hair back into a utilitarian braid. Daggers were strapped to both her thighs, and the handle of another peeked from her waistband.
“I started this,” she said as she stepped over Hilda’s remains and moved into the room, unsheathing one of the daggers. “And I’m going to finish it.”
The silver blade shone in the candlelight. It slid across her palm. Blood welled in the wound and dripped onto the dirt floor. She flicked it in their direction, murmuring an incantation. A wall of magic danced between them.
“She’s put a barrier between us. We can’t interfere. Seraph slammed his hand against the altar. It shook beneath his weight. “Damn it. I can’t do this.”
Brenna silently agreed. Regardless of the outcome, Agnes was going to die. And all they could do was stand by. Agnes had drained their powers to fuel the spell, and, with the barrier up, that was all the help they could give her. Brenna hoped it would be enough.
“Stick around. I’ll deal with you next.” Ga’loh winked at Brenna before turning back to the witch. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as if testing out his new body, then lunged. But Agnes was ready for him. She let him catch her, and they landed on the dirt floor. She was astride him, her hands pressed against his chest.
She smiled, smearing her bloody palm across his lips.
He growled, flipping her over until she lay beneath him. Leaning down, he stroked one finger across her lips. The act was almost sexual, the intimacy uncomfortable. “Are you going to kill yourself to save a few useless humans?”
Agnes sighed. The sound echoed through the room. “My blood is the only thing that can send you back and it’s seeping into your skin. I spilled too much to get you here, it’s only right I spill my own to send you back.” He released her, and she wiggled from beneath him.
“Nice thought, but it’ll take more than this.” He licked his lips. “Though it’s tasty.”
“Don’t worry,” she replied, the dagger grasped in her hands. “There’s plenty.”
The air in the chamber shifted. It thickened and suddenly it was difficult to breathe. Brenna leaned against Seraph, lightheaded. Magic twined around them, drawing from them to fuel the spell. She glanced at Agnes, who smiled, her fingers playing on the silver blade in her hand.
Agnes began to chant. As the words fell from her lips, the pungent stink of blood magic filled the room. It scurried across the rock walls and the damp floor to curl around Agnes.
“Stop.” Ga’loh grabbed Agnes’ by her braid and yanked her backwards. Her words never faltered. His fingers caught fire and he released her, stepping back. “Damn you, witch.” He struck her across the face, and she fell forward. Blood streamed from her mouth and nose. Ga’loh screamed as his fist erupted in flame.
Laughing, Agnes held her hands to the ceiling, screaming the final cadence of the spell. Black mist wrapped around them. It smelled of brimstone and old blood, and the magic within it demanded more than mere words.
Brenna saw Agnes’ hand tighten on the handle of the dagger. There was no way to intervene and, as much as she wanted to close her eyes and not see what came next, she forced herself to watch.
Agnes lifted her head and met Brenna’s gaze. “I want this,” she whispered. With a scream, she plunged the blade into her chest. She had intentionally missed her heart. The spell required pain. A clean death wouldn’t be enough. Agnes fell forward. Blood spilled from her lips and pooled on the ground beneath her.
“No,” Ga’loh screamed. “I won’t go back.” He ripped the blade from her chest. Blood drenched her sweater. She slumped to the ground, eyes wide and staring. She managed to blow him a kiss before the life in her eyes disappeared.
Magic exploded through the room. A spinning sphere of light shimmered in the far corner. It danced in the candlelight, swelling until it broke open, flooding the room with a thick golden mist. Agnes had opened a portal in the Veil.
The mist flooded the small space. It licked the barrier Agnes had constructed around Brenna, Seraph and Mira then sought out Ga’loh. The demon screamed in pain as it swept through his body. Golden light streamed through him, pulling him apart. His horrified screams filled the small space, dancing off the dirt walls and echoing inside Brenna’s head.
Then, suddenly, it stopped.
The room was plunged into darkness. The portal was gone. The demon was no more.
The magical barrier disappeared along with the portal. Brenna scrambled across the room to Agnes. Stumbling to her knees, Brenna checked for signs of life. There were none. Tears falling freely, Brenna met Seraph’s gaze. “She’s dead.”
“I know.” He knelt on the ground beside Brenna. “This is what she wanted.”
Brenna shook her head. “That doesn’t give her the right to commit suicide by demon.” She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “I let Marissa die and now Agnes and Hilda. This is my fault.”
Seraph grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her to face him. “You don’t get to wallow in self-pity, not now.” He yanked her to her feet and pushed her toward Mira. “Get back to the house and give the blood to Lucy. Let’s finish this.”
“What about Agnes?” Brenna yearned to return to the body, to hold Agnes and weep tears none of them had time for.
Seraph crouched down and lifted the shell that had been Agnes into his arms. “Her coven will want to bury her. I’m not going to rob them of that right.”
Gray shook Keegan harder. The dragon kept drifting in an out of consciousness, his body shifting between forms. The flow of blood from his injuries had soaked the floor beneath him.
Gray glanced around the cave, frantic. There had to be something he could do. He had tried to give th
e dragon some of his blood, but he wasn’t a healer. Brenna’s blood would have helped, but she wasn’t here to donate. Still, the blood made Keegan stronger, which gave them more time.
A movement at the far end of the cave caught Gray’s eye. Jumping to his feet, he pulled free the katana strapped to his back. If Adare had come back to finish them, Gray was in no shape to stop him. But it wasn’t Adare who appeared in the narrow tunnel.
Sam stumbled into the cavern. Gray’s hand clenched around the handle of the blade as his eyes alighted on Sam’s lean form. At first Gray didn’t recognize him. His sallow skin hung loose on his now gaunt frame, eyes sunken in. Even so, it was what he gripped in his hand that held Gray’s attention. The black messenger bag trailed the floor of the cave.
“Give it to me.” Weak as he was, Gray lunged for the bag. He yanked it free of Sam’s hands and pried it open. Inside were vials and flasks filled with potions and remedies. They had sustained him in the years before he had returned to find Brenna. Unwilling, and perhaps afraid to be parted from them, he had insisted on bringing them with him when he crossed over. Even now that he knew they were partially made with demon magic, they were still a security blanket of sorts.
He glanced at Sam, confused. “Why would you bring this here?”
Sam collapsed to the ground as though his legs would no longer hold him. “I never wanted to be Adare’s puppet.” He shook his head. “Ga’loh’s gone. He can’t control me anymore. But you can’t trust me, not while Adare’s around.”
Gray closed his eyes and drew a long breath. Brenna was safe. The ache for revenge tingled through his blood, but, he wouldn’t kill Sam, not yet. His promise to Brenna meant far more than the life of a lying incubus.
Gray turned back to Keegan. The dragon was in human form. His black hair was spread around his head like a halo, a stark contrast to his pale skin. Gray dumped the contents of the bag onto the floor. He shuffled through the glass containers until he found something useful. The small crystal vial held a yellow liquid so bright it hurt Gray’s eyes. It was Keegan’s only shot. Gray had tried everything else.
Fading Light: Shadow Born, Book 2 Page 21
