Ben smiled back at me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded. “Okay, let’s do this!”
When we stepped into the living room holding hands like schoolyard kids, both men stiffened. Wick’s nose flared, and Tristan’s eyes narrowed.
Tristan recovered first.
“There’s no reason to fear me, Witch. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Although, if anything ever attacks Andy again in her home, I hope you’ll come better prepared.”
Tristan referred to the time a horde of Kappa-possessed norms swarmed my home. Ben had showed up with his denmates looking like children from The Goonies. Complete with water guns.
Ben sniffed. “Those guns were full of hexes and curses. We’d have taken down those humans.”
Tristan nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Everyone turned to Wick, whose shoulder muscles hunched with tension. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “If you ever cause her harm, Witch…”
Now probably wouldn’t be a good time to tell Wick about the beach.
“I don’t make a habit of hurting my friends,” Ben said, his nervous glance told me he thought along the same lines.
My heart swelled like a mamma bear that he’d managed to speak a half-truth and not give away a lie. Technically, he’d hurt me pretty bad only a couple hours ago. I squeezed his hand and let go.
“Where are your denmates?” Wick asked.
“They’re too inexperienced to help,” Ben said.
“Liabilities,” I muttered. Ben cast me a bitchy face. I turned and shrugged at him.
“Where’s your salt?” Ben asked. I pointed to the kitchen and within minutes, Ben drew a summoning circle with salt in my living room. While he worked, I changed into some shorts and a tank top. I planned to shift, but Bola might be a tad apprehensive if he showed up at a summons to find me naked. I wanted to catch him off-guard, not cue him in to my plans right away.
After I emerged from the bedroom, Wick and Tristan went in to shift. They left the bedroom door open and planned to wait until Bola arrived and I broke the circle.
“Blitz attack,” they’d both said, and then glared at each other for having the same idea. Fucking Alphas. I hoped they weren’t in there playing fisticuffs as a warm up. An attack of any kind wouldn’t work if they knocked each other unconscious before Bola showed up.
Ben withdrew the ceremonial knife he had sheathed and attached to his belt. A six-inch blade winked in the artificial lights as the sun set outside. Without a word, Ben ran the knife across his palm, and walked around the summoning circle. The smell of blood overwhelmed my nose, drowning out the addictive Alpha scents.
Ben finished and stood beside me. He whispered the incantation under his breath. He probably did it for my benefit, or maybe he had to put more effort into the summoning because of the moon phase. “Hekate. Si placet, ancora nobis ad orbis terrarium. Gratias tibi ago.”
Ben took a deep breath and turned to me. “You sure?”
My heart hammered in my chest. Was I really about to do this? Purposely call forth my beast to fight a powerful Demon? My partially-shifted fingernails dug into my sweaty palms and drew blood.
“Andy?” Ben asked again.
I shook my head. “Nope. Let’s do this anyway.”
Ben nodded and continued. “Hekate. Si placet, advoco Daemonium Glasya Labolas ad nobis. Gratias tibi ago.”
A tremor streaked through my body as the air in the room stirred like a miniature tornado. The portal snapped into place, and the air grew heavy as a giant figure materialized in the center of the circle.
His stench hit me first. Steel and blood, tainted almond and waves of rotten grass. Sweat trickled down between my breasts. I clenched and unclenched my fists, but I refused to flee despite the terror racking my body.
Bola turned to face us, naked and terrifying, and started laughing.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
~Dylan Thomas
The room crackled with cold energy and a foreboding sense of danger. Did Bola suspect what we planned? Could he sense the Alphas in the other room?
“Did you wish to make a deal, Carus?” he asked.
Guess not. “Yes. What payment do you want to vacate Christopher’s body and return to the demonic realm?” I inched closer to the circle.
Bola cackled. The room filled with the smell of stale grass. “Break the circle, my dear, and your wish is my command. Though you might not live to enjoy your…success.”
I had no wish to draw this conversation out. The longer I waited to make a move, the harder that move would be to make. I couldn’t risk losing my nerve. Not now. Sweat continued to drip down my spine. It pooled on my lower back above the waistband of my shorts. My muscles tightened. I lifted my chin and met his overconfident gaze.
“Gladly,” I said and stepped over the line.
Bola’s eyes widened. The air popped as the circle’s power imploded. Pain lanced across my skin as if blade-sharpened hail pelted against it. A huge wall of pure energy slammed into me. I flew across the room, twisting in the air. With a face-first landing, I groaned and turned to face Bola.
The Demon cranked his salivating dog head back, balled his giant fists and roared. Spittle flung from his mouth, spraying the floor. It reeked of iron and decaying grass.
The deep vibrations of Bola’s call woke the beast within me. Normally nestled into my core, she rose with a burning fury. My skin lit on fire, stretched and tore open, the shift so sudden and brutal, I swallowed vomit and writhed on the floor. With my beast face smushed against my filthy rug, I took a millisecond to let the shift settle before I lurched to my feet. Sensory cues flooded my nose and ears, overwhelming and unwanted. Fire and strength coursed through my veins. The beast prodded my brain.
Destroy, she growled.
I swiveled and faced Bola again as the Ualida. A ball of rage bubbled up from my gut and a deep roar of my own ripped from my throat.
“Impressive,” Bola said.
We leapt for each other at the same time and collided over the destroyed summoning circle. Salt and blood coated our scaly hides as we rolled and grappled, straining to strangle, struggling to defend. Acid burned my throat and hollowed my stomach. The room filled with sounds of grunting and thrashing, but nothing else, just the hum of silence, of waiting. Where were Tristan and Wick? Were they waiting for the right opportunity to strike?
“Give up,” Bola growled at me. He clutched my throat and shook.
“You first, asshole.” My beast voice low and gravelly. Inhaling deeply, my lungs filled with air until they burned. Fire ruptured from my throat, and hit Bola in the face.
He chuckled, and wiped his dog face with a taloned hand. “I’m from hell. Fire has no effect on me.”
I knocked his other arm away and shoved him back. We sprang to our feet and circled one another, hands wide, and talons out. The tang of steel and iron flooded the air, so heavy the metal coated my tongue. Bola swiped at my head. I ducked. We circled some more.
“You can’t beat me,” Bola said.
“Who are you trying to convince?” I asked.
He lunged, tackling me low. The impact of his body sent us flying back, slamming hard against my kitchen’s tiled floor. He landed on top with a grunt. His large canine jaws gaped open and thick saliva dripped onto my face, stinging the skin it contacted. Rotten grass filled my nose. I wrapped my tail around one of his legs. Bola’s head snapped forward and time slowed. I watched in horror as his stench-ridden teeth came closer and closer to my face.
I wrenched my tail with all my strength and pushed off the ground, flinging Bola back. By the time I staggered to my feet, Bola was on me again. I kicked out. He stumbled backward a few steps. My heart thudded against my rib cage, and my limbs shook with the adrenaline racing through my blood.
Wick and Tristan sprinted from the bedroom in their animal forms. Wick rammed into Bola, blind-siding him, while
Tristan, faster and more agile, snaked around and leapt to attack from the other side. The Weres ripped at the Demon’s skin with their teeth. Their claws dug into flesh and dark, rank blood flowed onto the floor.
A wave of their Alpha power rolled through the room like a tsunami. It slammed into my body. I staggered as my mountain lion and wolf rose from within to join the Ualida.
Ben poked his head out from around the corner and mumbled. White light blasted from his hand and cracked into Bola’s exposed chest. The Demon stepped back with a howl. Both Weres clung to him as he dropped to a knee. Skin torn, dark red blood poured from the wounds, and the air shook with his rage.
Ben blasted him again, and Bola grunted. His hand shot out to support his weight. His body convulsed as the Weres clung to him, raking their claws and teeth against his thick hide.
Bola’s body shook. His head lifted. When his cold eyes met mine, he smiled.
Wait, what?
I leaned forward. Those dead orbs glinted with laughter. He was laughing!
Fuck!
Without warning, he surged up and flung the Weres off his body with such force they flew through the air and slammed against the opposite walls. The apartment shook; the whole building trembled. Ben stepped forward and blasted him again with blue fire. Bola dropped his head and laughed. Then he swiped his arm out, smacking Ben across the hall. He hit the wall and crumpled to the floor in a bloody heap.
I reached out for Ben.
Bola growled a warning.
I stopped and turned to him.
“Pitiful,” Bola sneered. “Bringing your boy toys to the fight. Do they know I’ve had you? That I’ve sunk myself deep inside your body as you howled with desire?”
My blood burned as it raced through my body to my fast beating heart. The beast surged forward in my mind, demanding control. She snarled and raked her claws against my brain. Maybe I should give her control, maybe she’d take Bola without my fighting inferiority holding her back. She could show me what this form could really do.
I swallowed and focused on Bola. “Howled in rage,” I corrected.
Bola smirked, and his weight shifted forward.
Before the Demon could launch his body at me, Tristan careened into Bola’s side and latched onto his arm with sharp teeth and claws. Tristan’s hiss filled the room and burnt cinnamon rolled off him in waves. Guess he heard Bola’s taunt.
The Demon’s eyes met mine again and another sickening smile spread across his awful dog face.
No!
The glint in Bola’s gaze telegraphed his intent. In sickening slow motion, I watched as Bola twisted his arm around somehow and grabbed Tristan by the nape. He slammed him into the floor and stomped on Tristan’s neck. A sick snap broke the deadened silence in the room.
I stopped breathing. A broken neck didn’t mean death. Not to a Were. Not to an old Were like Tristan. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. Sweat trickled down my face. My heartbeat raced, yet my limbs hung heavy and useless as weakness consumed my body.
Bola chuckled and left his foot on Tristan’s neck, pinning him to the floor.
I stepped forward, claws out, teeth barred, but Wick flew out of nowhere and barreled into Bola’s side. The Demon laughed again, and I watched in horror as he repeated the exact same move with Wick.
Snap. Crunch.
No!
My heart sank in my chest, and I sagged to my knees. My beast roared, but defeat plagued my heart. I shouldn’t have asked for their help. If they didn’t survive. If they got hurt…
Wick twitched under Bola’s foot. He lived! Did Tristan? A sudden coldness spread through my chest. Please Feradea, let Tristan be alive. I’ll do anything.
I didn’t dare move forward. Bola could easily end the lives of Wick and Tristan. He wouldn’t require much provocation. That he hadn’t killed them meant he wanted something. From me.
“What will it be, Carus? The lives of two for the lives of many?” Bola asked.
I shook my head. The world spun slowly before me. I couldn’t make that choice; I couldn’t live, and let them die. My heart beat in my throat. If I chose to fight Bola instead of bargain with him, he’d kill Tristan and Wick. And could I best him on my own? I wasn’t exactly winning before the Weres and Witch joined the fight. I gasped for air. Bola wanted me to sacrifice Tristan and Wick or the humans in the Lower Mainland. My heart convulsed. My arms hung limp at my sides. I didn’t want to live in a world where Tristan and Wick didn’t exist.
But I couldn’t sacrifice innocent people to save them, either.
A high pitched whine came from Tristan’s throat. Bola’s foot clamped down harder.
Save yourself, Tristan said. Save the others.
I…I can’t, I replied, and meant it.
I’ve lived long enough, Tristan said. Do it.
Andy, Wick said.
Bola roared and drowned out whatever Wick planned to say. But it didn’t matter. I knew his sentiments would echo Tristan’s. I knew what he’d want me to do.
But I couldn’t do it.
I took a step forward. “What about one life for the lives of many?”
Bola’s head snapped up, and his weight eased off Tristan’s neck. His chest swelled. “Your life?”
I licked my dry lips and nodded. My chest dropped as an emptiness blanketed my heart. “In exchange for you returning to the demonic realm immediately, and your word to never harm these men again, ever.” I made a large swooping gesture with my arm so he knew it included Wick, Tristan and Ben. Scratch that, I was dealing with a Demon. I better spell it out for him. “And by these men, I’m referring to Wick, Tristan and Ben.”
No! Tristan and Wick bellowed in my head. Ben gurgled.
Andy, no, Wick said.
Don’t do it Andy. We’re not worth it, Tristan said.
“You will belong to me,” Bola said.
I nodded. I’ll find a way out of it, I told the men, though I didn’t believe my own words. At least they’d live, even if I couldn’t be with them. Images of the horrific things Bola had done to me in a host body flittered across my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the bloody and painful images away. My limbs trembled, and I bit back a sob as it threatened to race up my throat. What awful things did Bola plan for me? Did it matter? The weight in my chest sank lower, leaving my heart with a dull ache.
Bola flicked his nail across his wrist and dark blood oozed out. “I, Glasya Labolas, do so swear to leave the realm of Earth and release my possession of the Witch known as Christopher. I also swear to do no harm from now to eternity to the three men in this room, named Wick, Tristan and Ben, in exchange for the sole ownership of Andrea McNeilly’s body, mind and soul by her own sworn word for the rest of her existence.”
Every single one of his words cut at my very being like shards of glass, but I ignored the pain. I had to. I couldn’t stand by and watch Wick and Tristan die. Not when I had the chance to stop it.
I bent down and retrieved Ben’s ceremonial knife from a pool of his blood. I glanced at his pale face and noted his shallow breathing. God, I hoped he was okay. I wiped the blade on my leg and held it up to my palm.
Something compelled me to look up and meet the anguished expression on Wick’s face. He strained against Bola’s hold, thrashing around as if sheer force of will would set him free to stop me. Then I turned to Tristan. He’d gone limp, but his feline gaze trained on me, taking everything in.
Goodbye, I told them both.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Smells detonate softly in our memory like poignant land mines hidden under the weedy mass of years.”
~Diane Ackerman
The knife bit into the sensitive flesh, and the smell of the forest erupted. Instantly, my mind transported back to the night of my fourteenth birthday; the night when I’d walked into the forest, sweat soaked flannel pajamas, hair plastered to my head. The night I met my original three feras. The night my world changed.
Why this memory? Why now?
&n
bsp; Because we are you, you are us, we are one, my feras wailed in my head.
The memory played out. Twigs and dry branches littered the forest floor. They dug into my naked, unseasoned soles. The dense branches of fir trees brushed my skin, sending tingles up my arms while pine needles sprinkled into my hair, like glitter. The loamy scent of deep rooted earth plugged my nose, making it impossible to smell anything else; my connection to the forest undeniable and overwhelming. I stumbled into a clearing, flailing face first onto the forest floor.
How did I get here? What was I doing before? Did it matter? A surge of warmth spread through my body. Something moved in the trees before me. Something I wanted. Something I loved.
On my hands and knees, I looked up to watch a lone mountain lion weave around the trees to stand in front of me. A sense of safety consumed me. Of being home. At rest. For the first time since pubescence. Gone was the uneasy feeling of something not quite right. Gone were the headaches behind my eyes that made my skull feel like splitting.
All that existed were the two amber eyes studying me, beckoning me to reach forward and touch her. One touch. My hand extended, and then something out of the corner of my eye made me hesitate. My arm faltered and dropped to my side. A wolf, gray and regal, loped into the clearing to sit beside the mountain lion. A small hawk-like bird swooped in to rest on the mountain lion’s back. The animals stared intently. Waiting.
I reached forward again, this time overwhelmed with an adrenaline rush and a feeling of anticipation and excitement. The feras leaned in.
“Andrea.” A deep voice startled me.
The vision of my feras melted away like a disappearing mirage.
Wick. Tristan. Ben. Bola.
What the heck? They were dying in my living room, and I was skipping through the forest frolicking with my feras and finding myself.
I leapt to my feet and whirled around. Sid stood behind me in the clearing, thankfully clothed.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t give him a chance to spew seductive words at me. I lunged forward, grabbed his shirt, and like a true Canadian, pulled it over his head in a classic hockey move before feeding him my right fist. Repeatedly.
Carpe Demon (Carus #3) Page 19
