Deliverance

by Dakota Banks

  “Hi, Jake,” she said.

  Hi, Jake—there’s an impressive opener.

  He kissed her on the forehead and pulled a chair up to the bedside. An aide appeared with a vase already prepared for the flowers.

  The efficiency of this place can get on my nerves.

  “How are you feeling?” he said.

  “I got my arms slashed and a knife in my side. I’m healing okay, though—just not as fast as you would.” She smiled.

  She searched Jake’s face for signs of the monster Master Liu described, and then checked his aura. It was the same as the last time she’d viewed it, similar to hers. Black with the stain of killing, but streaked by a desire to see justice done and an urge to help people.

  If this man is a sadistic killer, then I could be one myself. How is he hiding his cruelty and disregard for life?

  “You’ll be better soon. I thought we might take a vacation. Get away from work and go somewhere romantic, just the two of us.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  Alone with him for days? Not unless I call Master Liu a liar, and the jury’s still out on that.

  “Good. I’ll make plans.”

  Maliha decided to test the waters and see what kind of reaction she got. After all, it was hard to believe Jake would pull anything at the clinic.

  “Jake, can we talk about Abiyram again?”

  “Sure.”

  “I had already told Abiyram that he might be able to join my team. He was optimistic about it, waiting to hear the details. Why would he, as you said, be plotting to get on the team when it was going to be freely offered to him?”

  Logical question. Just a clarification needed. Certainly not offensive.

  “I guess he wanted to be certain. His focus was that he wanted you and wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way of having you to himself. Who knows what an old human like that thinks, anyway?”

  It just didn’t ring true. She’d worked with Abiyram a long time, and he’d never once let his heart rule his head. When they’d worked together, if she’d gotten caught, Abiyram would save her if he could, but not at the expense of success of the mission. It was his training and his personality mixed together, and it had nothing to do with having a woman as a partner.

  I think Jake might be talking about himself, not Abiyram. There’s a lot of disdain in that crack about old humans, too.

  She hesitated with her answer.

  “Is there a problem?” he said.

  “Not really. Well, maybe. I just don’t see it the way you do. From working with Abiyram, I don’t think he’d let his attraction to me cause him to do anything stupid.”

  “So he was more important to you than I am?” Jake took her wrist and held it tightly enough to hurt a bit. There was an expression of concern on his face, concern with anger creeping in.

  “I asked you before, is there a problem?” he said.

  “The problem is you’re hurting my wrist.”

  He didn’t let go. “What is it with this Abiyram? You’re going on about him and I can barely remember his name. He’s not a problem anymore.”

  “What are you saying?”

  His hand subtly tightened around her wrist. “I’m saying that the old man won’t bother you anymore. Or try to take you away from me.” Furrows formed on his brow. “Why don’t you ask what you really want to know?”

  Did you kill him? Did you kill my friend? Don’t go there.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Maliha said.

  Isn’t it time for my blood pressure to be taken or something?

  “I mean, is there a problem with Abiyram out of the picture? You love me, don’t you? Not him? We’re going to get married.”

  Hold on. I never agreed to that.

  He twisted her wrist so hard that she thought it would snap. Anger got the best of her.

  “Let go of my damn wrist or I’ll scream.” She pressed her lips together in a line and glared at him, daring him to take any action.

  He eased up enough to take away the sensation that her wrist was about to break.

  “Master Liu told me why you didn’t take the pledge to his school,” Maliha said.

  I shouldn’t have said that.

  “He shouldn’t have said that,” Jake said. His voice was cold.

  Maliha viewed his aura again. His voice might have been cold, but his aura was raging hot. Brilliant flares of red anger and violence nearly drowned out the black.

  That’s how he does it. He controls his aura somehow—until he gets angry and his control slips. Then his true colors show.

  Maliha lifted her chin. Her eyes were bright with defiance. “He warned me about you. He said you’d kill me when you got tired of me. My friends, too.”

  A knife appeared in Jake’s hand.

  Call for help? Anyone who came in here now would be slashed to ribbons. He’s my problem. I brought him in, I’m the one who has to take him out.

  She sat up a little straighter in bed and kissed the hand that held the knife. “But Jake, we love each other. That’s all that matters.”

  He smashed his hand up into her face, leaving her nose bleeding. “Cut it out, Maliha. I see you now for what you really are, a scheming whore. Are you really rogue or still working for Rabishu?”

  He leaned over her on the bed and the knife went to her throat. He made an experimental slice on the side of her neck to see if she would heal instantly. It was all Maliha could do to hold still.

  “What happened to ‘I don’t want to lose you’?” Maliha said. She struggled to keep her voice from trembling. She was stalling for the right moment, the correct position of her body relative to his, and she couldn’t make any sudden moves until she was ready. She was only going to get one chance.

  “Shut up.”

  He lifted the knife a fraction of an inch. A minute passed quietly as Jake waited for the cut on her neck to heal. It didn’t.

  “Son of a gun. You really are a rogue.”

  He started to sit up, and that’s when she took the biggest risk of her life.

  His hand still held her wrist, but not gripped as tightly as before. She stiffened her fingers and rammed them into his eye, then slid her fingers back through his encircling fist as he dealt with the pain of her surprise move.

  Free!

  She grabbed the wrist that held the knife, pulled it to her, and bit it as hard as she could. Tasting blood, she knew she’d severed the radial and ulnar arteries used to commit suicide. They were close to the surface of the skin on the inside of the wrist. It wouldn’t be more than a distraction to Jake, but a distraction would be helpful.

  They struggled in complete silence, neither one wanting to attract outside attention. Jake dropped the knife on the bed and Maliha lunged for it. It was slippery with his blood, but she grasped it and plunged it into his heart. Pulling out the knife, she bent her legs and kicked out at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. She felt her own wounds respond to the action with fresh bleeding, especially the wound Elizabeth had given Maliha in her side. There was no time to consider body damage. At this point, she held not only her own life in her hands, but also the lives of her friends.

  She dove from the bed and landed atop Jake. To weaken him further she broke both of his arms. The cracking of bone sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room. She straddled Jake and put the knife to his throat.

  How could things go this wrong? I was ready to marry this man—until he asked me.

  “We’ve been through this before, you know,” Jake said. His voice held only a tinge of pain.

  “In my haven,” Maliha said. “I was ready to kill you.”

  She stabbed his thigh as she went by, then she hit the wall of the weapons cache and spun around with a sword in her hand. She felt a little less naked.

  Jake was down. Against the odds, she’d surprised him and landed a blow. She shoved off from the wall to press her advantage. Half a second later, she was on him, her sword balanced at his throat. Her chest pr
essed against his and she could feel his heart thudding. The edge of her weapon drew blood. All she had to do was lean her weight on the sword, sending the edge deeply into his flesh.

  She’d delayed so long that by now he should have thrown her off. Instead, he went still beneath her.

  She saw his lips move, forming the shape of her name with no sound.

  Her hands weren’t obeying her mind, they were taking orders from her heart. The blade broke the skin in a short line that welled with blood but went no further.

  She rolled off him, kept going, and came to her knees a short distance away. Then she rose to her feet and dashed back toward the door.

  “I love you,” came from the man down on her floor.

  “You couldn’t do it then and you won’t do it now,” Jake said. “I love you.”

  You are one hundred and ten percent crazy.

  She leaned her weight on both ends of the knife and kept pushing until the blade reached the carpet on the other side of his neck. She pushed his head a foot away. She wasn’t sure, but she thought if she left the head in contact with his body, his Ageless healing ability would reattach it.

  Maliha changed her position so she was no longer straddling Jake’s torso and slumped to the floor.

  “Hound,” she whispered. “Hound.” Louder.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” she said.

  As the door opened, Hound said, “Just being polite, in case you and Mr. Hunk were, uh, going at . . .”

  She looked up at him, still holding the knife.

  “Oh. I see.” He knelt down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be all right. We’ll take it from here.” He turned his head toward the door. “Mickey! Get your ass in here!

  “Are you wounded?” he asked Maliha.

  “No, just the injuries I already had.”

  Mickey came running through the door, slamming it back so hard that it crashed into the wall. “What the fuck?” He stood frozen as he took in the scene. “Did you have to . . . ?”

  “Yes, she did,” Hound said. “I’ll explain later. Lock the door before we get a lot of company.”

  Hound spread out a clean blanket on the couch in Maliha’s room, and Mickey carried her over to it. Just then her reward for killing Jake was measured on her scale, and it was a great one. She twisted in pain, pulling apart her pajama top as the scale glowed and moved on her skin. Mickey was frightened and baffled until Hound explained what was happening. Finally she was pulled through time, fading in and out of view, emerging with a few more silver hairs visible within the black braid that hung down her back.

  “This woman is extraordinary,” Mickey said.

  “Took you long enough to realize it,” Hound said. “You want to protect her, but it’s like trying to protect the sun from being too hot. Hopeless.”

  I heard that.

  “You get some rest,” Hound said to Maliha. “You’re safe with us.”

  Although Maliha knew there were threats that only she could deal with, right then Hound’s words were a balm to her ragged soul.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Three weeks later

  Maliha was back in Chicago. She was the only one in her condo and for now, relished the quiet and long hours to think. Amaro was visiting his sister Rosie, Yanmeng and Eliu were still in Switzerland at the clinic, Hound was working on a case, and Mickey had gone back to Phoenix with a fattened bank account and a promise to return soon. Before they’d split up, the team had welcomed Mickey as a new member.

  The police found Arnie Henshaw’s body after Hound phoned in an anonymous tip. Arnie wasn’t just dead, he was Elizabeth-style dead, upping Maliha’s pain at the thought of what he went through.

  She felt that she’d paid in blood for recent events, and if she dwelled on the past, she could drown in a sea of remorse. It was time to look to the future, to rededicate herself to both her personal quest to redeem her soul from the clutches of Rabishu and to assemble the crystal lens needed to read the Tablet of the Overlord. Her feeling was stronger than ever that she was the only one living who could accomplish that and rid Earth of the seven Sumerian demons. What lay beyond that for humankind, she didn’t know, but she wanted to see how it all turned out.

  Something that needed her team’s attention was that Vice President Cameron had told her there were others like him in politics, sons and daughters of the New Founders. He’d claimed that none was in a position to influence the course of events in the country, as he had been—but what reason would he have had to tell the truth? Lying about the projects of the New Founders would have been second nature to him. He’d told her there were twelve Founders, but what if there were thirty? Or a hundred or more? Rooting out information on the secretive group would be a challenge to her team.

  Lucius, her soul mate, her Ageless lover who’d given himself over to a torturous existence to save her, no longer needed to be hidden away in a secret compartment of her heart. Now he lived in her entire heart, and she hoped someday to find the way to bring him back from his demon’s hell. She’d never give up trying.

  The answer might lie in the Tablet of the Overlord. I have to find the rest of the shards.

  There was that mysterious statement Master Liu made to her that kept popping up in her mind, that their lives are linked.

  How? Why? I can see how he’s important to me, but how could I make a difference to him? He’s already so powerful. Is there something on that tablet he wants too?

  Maliha raised the shades on the windows of her condo, something she rarely did for security reasons. She stood in front of the expanse of curved windows, looking out at Lake Michigan. Sun glinted off the ice of the lake, searing away thoughts that had saddened and depressed her, searing the hurt from her heart.

  It hurt to lose Jake because I still don’t understand how I could have been so wrong about him. Now I have to focus on Lucius and how to bring us back together.

  A doubt tried to wiggle into her mind. Could he be hiding something, like Jake? Am I doomed to repeat this kind of failed cycle of love? No, I don’t believe Anu would punish me like that.

  December had slipped by while she was in the clinic, and a new year spread out before her. A year of purpose and accomplishment.

  Master Liu mentioned that one of his disciples named Daniel Harper has a shard. If I can get Daniel’s away from him, I’ll have four of them. More than half. Master Liu said to approach Daniel as a woman. I think I can manage that.

  She went into the storage room where the boxes from Abiyram’s apartment were stacked. It was time to tackle them. She finally knew the story of his death and in her own way had avenged it. Until now, she’d had neither the time nor the inclination to handle the items she’d inherited from him.

  Box after box yielded dusty but fascinating artifacts. She was going to need a special display area in her haven for them. She would consider donating the better pieces to museums, but it was impractical. She couldn’t produce authentic provenance, the complete history of the artifact, because Abiyram had been less than scrupulous in his collecting techniques. She’d have to forge documents, and for now it was too big a project to undertake.

  Maybe later.

  A battered leather document tube carried a note in Abiyram’s scrawl: We’ll find this one together.

  Inside was an ancient map. As Maliha held the map that threatened to crumble in her hands, an image rose from it into the air and enlarged in front of her. Full of wonder, she stared at the hovering map that would lead her to the next shard.

  It looks like I’m going to have to learn a lot about volcanoes.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank the readers of the first two books in the Mortal Path series, Dark Time and Sacrifice, who responded to Maliha’s unique and compelling story, allowing me to bring this next book to you. I love this story and these characters and it’s satisfying to be able watch Maliha walk the mortal path.

  My agent, Adrien
ne Rosado of Nancy Yost Literary Agency, has provided valuable support. Thank you, Adrienne! I couldn’t make my dreams come true without you.

  Emily Krump, my editor at Harper Voyager, helped transform this book from a collection of words into the version you hold in your hands, the one that best represents my vision of the story, for which I am grateful. A special thank you to Emily for her compassion and patience in working with me during a difficult period of my life, the decline in health and passing away of my sister Maxine. A class act, Emily, and one that I’ll never forget.

  Copyeditor Ellen Leach deserves great credit for smoothing the rough edges of my manuscript. Thanks, Ellen, for a difficult task well done.

  My husband, Dennis, makes a rotten critique partner but redeems himself with excellent brainstorming. I get Maliha into trouble, he helps me get her out. On top of that, he makes a terrific egg sandwich with hot pepper cheese. What’s not to love?

  A special mention belongs to reader Jill Bakkum, who won a contest to name a character in this book after herself. I enjoyed having Dr. Jill in this story.

  About the Author

  Growing up in a converted 1890s funeral home, complete with blood gutters in the basement floor, fueled DAKOTA BANKS’s interest in the paranormal. She’s no ghost whisperer, but she keeps an open mind. She’s fascinated with both archaeology and the paranormal, especially when the two intersect, as they do in Mortal Path.

  Dakota is a member of the Horror Writers Association and the International Thriller Writers. She lives in aSt. Louis suburb with her husband, two sons adopted from Peru and Ethiopia, and a couple of cats who keep her writing on track.

  Visit her website at www.dakota-banks.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  High praise for Dakota Bank’s

  MORTAL PATH

  “Deliverance by Dakota Banks delivers everything I love in suspense fiction: great characters who jump from the page; a smart, layered plot; and pacing that screams. This is the kind of book that makes you look forward to a rainy day.”