by Anthology
She blinked in confusion.
He clicked his teeth. “Yes, that’s right, in this century you call it…America, yes? The point still stands.”
She hesitated. “You said—”
“I said,” he chided softly, “the new world order. It doesn’t involve human-versus-human conflicts. It involves the very end of your species.”
She lifted her head in challenge. “And how exactly do you think that will be accomplished?”
He shrugged and said simply, “The Day of Remembrance is on September 14, 2001. There will be a cerebral attack on every human in existence.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Does what you saw in your vision not ‘look too bad’?”
“No need to get testy,” she pointed out. “And no—it looked worse than what you’ve described. But…to be honest, I don’t know what I saw. I just know that something was happening. Something bad.”
“And it needs to be stopped,” he said quietly.
She shrugged. “No argument there. So why me?”
He smiled. “Because without you, there will not be a single human left unaltered the day after.”
Her jaw dropped as she stared at him for a few long seconds. She waited as the silence drew taunt and she said, “FML. You’re serious.”
“I never joke in Hell.”
6
She stumbled back, not quite sure where she was stumbling to as she laughed uneasily.
“You’re insane.”
Ire flashed in his red eyes as he started walking toward her.
She held up a halting hand. “Wait, just wait a minute.”
He didn’t stop. She, however, did. She straightened her back and held her single weapon in front of them like a barrier that looked more dangerous than it really was.
Behind him she could see something form in the darkness. She wasn’t completely certain, but it pushed her theory of where they were from about forty-five percent certainty based on this particular realm’s characteristics, up to eighty-eight percent certain. She knew where they were.
Just in time, because she was tired of playing games anyway.
Muttering a short incantation, she transmuted the knife from the simple, if deadly, metal blade into a much more useful entity.
Smoke encased her hand, and when it dissipated she held a small gun. A very small one. She knew just from the laws of magi-physics that the gun would only have one bullet.
One was all she needed.
With a steady voice, she said, “Stop right there or I will shoot you. I’m tired of being hauled around like a rag doll. It’s time for me to be the one in charge.”
He said, “You think your mortal weapon will stop me?”
She smiled. “Who says it’s mortal?”
Before she could even finish the sentence, a dark, inky smoke began to form behind him like a black cloud. But the cloud had claw-like hands that were reaching out from it, straight for her red-eyed friend.
Snarling, Rhiannon yelled, “Get down.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond; she fired the shot. Fortunately he followed her command and dropped to all fours with wide eyes.
Rhiannon watched the bullet whizz directly over his lucky head and straight into the cloud.
The cloud roiled from the impact, and instead of a hole forming in the center where the air was forced outward with the bullet’s entrance, the entire cloud began to convalesce.
“Well, that definitively answers the realm question,” she muttered to herself almost without noticing. A transmuting cloud that allowed materialization could only appear in a certain realm of the Void, one where she had full access to her magical powers without undue repercussions.
Then it solidified and out dropped a demon that made her stomach sink to her feet.
A hellcat with skin and hair as black as coal.
Sucks to be him.
He growled loudly once while it twitched its long tail in the air. It didn’t have time to do any more before it crashed to the floor like a heavyweight champion knocked out in the first round.
Except this champion was dead. She’d stake her reputation on it.
She watched smoke rise from the dead demon as she saw the demon she’d saved rise from the ground.
“Believe me now?” he said drily.
She put her hands on her hips and glared. “He was after you.”
Her demon ruffled his fingers through his long brown hair and sighed. “And what precisely do you think he would have done to you once he was done with me?”
She waved her gun in his face. “Not a damned thing.”
He glared. “Put it away, human, we can argue further later. We must leave here.”
Her eye twitched as she said not a word. But her stance was clear: she wasn’t moving.
They had a stalemate as brown eyes met red eyes in a fierce battle of wills.
He frowned at her and then said, “Fine. If I give you my word, will you go with me as far as the next gate—just so we can leave this accursed Void?”
“You’re the one who brought us here,” she exclaimed in exasperation.
“Because I thought the danger in your realm was worse than the danger in my own,” he snarled. “I was wrong.”
“Well there’s a shocker, I’m betting that’s not the only thing that you’re wrong about today.”
“What will it take?” he snapped.
“Your bond,” she said quickly, sparks in her eyes. A demon’s bond was as good as a blood oath. He wouldn’t do it lightly and he couldn’t betray her if he did.
He didn’t flinch when he said, “Done.”
She rocked back on her heels, surprised. “Well then.”
Without wasting a moment, he reached out a hand and runes began to glow on his skin. Before she could get a good look, he gripped her forearm and said, “My bond as a demonic auris, I will not harm you for the rest of this mortal day, your cause for this time is my cause, and your life is mine to protect.”
She said, “That’s pretty specific on the time limit.”
“Take it or leave it,” he said flatly.
She called up a bit of her magic and squeezed the arm he gripped her with back. “Done.”
He leaned forward and snorted into her face.
“Eww,” she snapped as she leaned back and broke their grip.
“A show of respect from my kind,” he said.
“One I could have done without.”
“Let’s go, witch.”
He held out a hand again.
She said, “This time I lead.”
He said nothing, which she took as consent.
As she whisked them between realms and back to where the rest of humankind lived, she took one last look at her dead hellcat.
He would lay there until carrion came for his remains. With deep swallow, she tossed the weapon she had used to kill him on his corpse.
It had been true, one bullet was all she had needed. And all she had had. The gun was useless now.
Then ended up back at the construction pit.
She quickly turned to her car and leaned in to grab her phone.
She was careful to keep aware of the demon’s aura in the background. It outlined his entire form, almost like he was glowing, and since she could ‘see’ his aura without actually turning around, it was almost like having camera trained on him.
Unfortunately it didn’t tell her what he was thinking.
She would have to turn back around for that.
Stepping out of the car, she tried to turn the phone on only to realize it was dead.
“It’s dead,” she grumped. “Nearby void activity?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re wondering if the Void shut off your phone.”
“Considering you seem to think that I’m number one on someone’s hit list, I wouldn’t past that someone to do anything in their power to cut me off from my allies,” she said with just a smidgen of sarcasm. Okay, a huge hea
ping of sarcasm.
He snorted. “I wouldn’t either, except if there was a cross-Void summoning, it wouldn’t affect your phone.”
She glared. “And you know this for sure?”
He stared. “What kind of witch are you?”
She waved her phone at his nose. “The techy kind.”
He rolled his eyes. “All right tech mistress, did you charge the contraption?”
She opened her mouth and closed it with a snap.
He rolled his eyes and started walking past her. “Problem solved.”
“Hey,” she shouted. “Where are you going?”
“To the source.”
She waved a frantic hand at her car that he couldn’t see. “Vehicle of conveyance right here!”
He stopped and gave her a glare back over his shoulder. “You think I can fit inside that? It’s smaller than most horses.”
“It is not!” she shouted in a wounded voice. “It’s my baby.”
He snorted and kept walking.
“Oh come on,” she said. “You could at least try.”
She was shifting from foot to foot by her car.
“Not going to happen!” she heard him respond as he turned the corner.
Swearing with one last look at her baby, she raced off after him. At least she had worn sensible boots today.
She caught up with the demon in seconds and spent the next four blocks complaining as he walked beside her stoically.
As they were crossing Adams Street and turned toward a park, he grabbed her up with a curse. She yelled and only managed to just barely resist slamming her fist into his chest by remembering that he was bound to not harm her for the duration of the day.
So instead she snapped, “What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving your life,” he retorted right back.
“Oh, I’ve heard that before—” she had seconds to say before he completed the wide swing of her body into his front and planted unchaste lips on her mouth.
Seconds passed. Seconds were all she needed before she was out of breath and she could feel the magic inside her responding to his demonic touch.
Scrambling for some control, she gripped his chest with her hands and pushed back with both physical and magical force. He let her go with a yelp.
“What was that for?” he yelled.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said at the same time.
He rolled his eyes. “Dark warlock, nine o’clock.”
“I beg your pardon,” she said while staring at him in vague distaste. It was all she could do to cover up the tingling that was going up and down her spine and the wooziness in her head.
That had been one hell of a kiss. An unexpected one at that.
“Warlock,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “A dark one.”
She glared up at him and then slowly leaned her body to the left so that she could peek around his right side without revealing her entire face.
She immediately saw the man he had been talking about.
She nodded. “And? So?”
He stared at her. “Use your magic for once, witch.”
“May I remind you that it was I who retrieved us from the Void and I that conjured a gun out of plain metal? A gun that saved your life, might I add,” she said.
“Yes,” he said softly, “Very good defensive tactics. Now try something offensive. Seek out his aura. Test it. Taste it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Taste it?”
He crossed his arms in irritation. “Do it before I start to turn to stone.”
She gave him an irate look but she did it.
The warlock’s aura was interesting. Dark. But she had expected that. What she hadn’t expected? The feeling of grittiness surrounding him and the bitter taste…the taste of soot.
She gasped. “He summoned the hellcat.”
“Yes,” said her bonded protector drily. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get off the streets. Now.”
She chewed her lip. “Shouldn’t we follow him?”
“We have bigger problems.”
“Bigger problems than a warlock who can summon a higher-level demon?”
“Trust me, that summoning wasn’t high enough—not to merit your attention when we’re facing what’s coming.”
She sighed. “Let’s go. Show me what you want to show me. The source, you called it.”
He nodded and gently turned her around with his hand. “It’s one block further.”
Feeling like a doll with puppet strings, she walked forward at his prodding.
“This day just gets better and better,” she said while stretching her neck and peering with interest at the surrounding buildings.
Now that her aura was turned on she could see ley lines running from surface to surface like a second invisible wireless network. But they followed the outlines of physical buildings instead of racing willy-nilly through the air.
They turned into a brownstone on the corner and walked up to two flights of stairs.
When he opened an apartment door and led her inside, she almost walked right back out.
Almost.
There was only so much a witch could take in one day.
Instead she stood stock still until the demon closed the door behind her, then she marched up to her boss and snarled into his horned face, “What in the seven hells is going on, Michael? And don’t tell me it’s need-to-know because I shot a hellcat today and I’m just itching to see if a large-caliber bullet will work just as well on a minotaur.”
Never mind that she had left her gun in the other realm. Michael didn’t know that.
And judging by the murderous look in his expansive black eyes and the snarl on his bull-like face, he didn’t care either.
7
Shaking with her fight to resist wagging a finger in his face, like her aunt did to naughty schoolgirls, but instead Rhiannon said, “Well?”
Her boss closed his eyes for a minute and then opened them. “Take a seat, Slater.”
“Not a chance,” she said flatly. “I want to know what’s going on and I want to know now.”
Michael walked around her on remarkably delicate hooves considering the fact that he was about two hundred and seventy pounds of pure muscle. He just carried it well, like a dancing bull. She’d always admired that about him.
She turned to keep her eye on him and watched as he paced the apartment. All rippling dark-chestnut fur, acid-washed jeans, and a gold nose-ring that glinted in the light.
She twitched with impatience but she knew getting words out of him was like pulling teeth until he was ready. He roiled with emotion, though. In his aura and his physical form.
He was angry, she could tell. He had been before she’d even gotten here which told her it was mostly not directed at her. Small miracles.
Finally he spoke. “You know New York City was attacked this morning.”
“I do.”
“And?”
She shrugged. She knew he wasn’t asking for her feelings on the matter but rather an analysis. “The method of attack. The timing. It’s not a Void attack. There was nothing ritualistic about it—it didn’t happen on a holy day and the method, using a plane, is certainly not characteristic of demonic kind.”
“No, it’s not,” agree her bonded demon.
Michael didn’t acknowledge either of their words.
He turned to look out the window. “If not demonic, then who?”
“Are you asking because you don’t know?” she said slowly. “Or because you prefer that I drag it out of you?”
The chestnut minotaur didn’t move.
“Dammit, Michael,” she cursed. “We don’t have time for your jedi-padawan mind games. Just tell me what’s up. Before I bring up the fact that you elected to not tell me what was up in the morning…in bed.”
“Very well,” he said as he unclasped his hands from behind his back.
“You’re right, today’s attack wasn’t Voi
d, but the one three days from now?”
Rhiannon jumped, partly out of guilt.
“How do you know about that?”
He pinned her with a glare.
“I was going to call, but this buffoon,” she said while pointing at the hapless demon, “plucked me out of this realm and tossed me into the Void. By the time I got back my phone had died and, well…”
She trailed off, seeing that excuses were getting her nowhere.
Clearing her throat. “So Bella told you?”
“Something like that,” her boss said darkly.
“All right,” she said with a sigh. “So what do we do about it?”
“We prevent it,” Michael said with a laughter.
She out a short laugh of her own, more out of force of habit than humor. “And how do we do that if we don’t know whom or what it is we’re targeting?”
Michael looked over at her demon escort with a raised eyebrow.
The escort sighed. “I didn’t have time to tell her. We were under attack as soon as we got into the void, I think the warlock purposely made it difficult for me to cross with her.”
“He would,” mumbled Michael.
“And why is that?” Rhiannon demanded. She was tired of being kept in the dark.
Michael looked her straight in the eye. “Because the warlock was Lucius. And the mistress he works for is the one who wants you…sidelined. Dead possibility, I’m not quite sure.”
Rhiannon blanched. “That’s not funny Michael, seriously.”
She knew who Lucius’s mistress was. The woman was no joke.
Michael tilted his head with a glare. “I never joke.”
“Now would be a very good time for you to start,” she said with suddenly dry lips as she stumbled over to the couch and finally sat down.
Michael snorted and came over as he said softly, “I will do everything in my power to protect you. And to prevent this catastrophe.”
Rhiannon giggled. “And how, exactly, do you plan on protecting me from Sarah Beth?”
The apartment was silent for a moment.
“I don’t know,” said Michael thoughtfully. “But I will find a way.”
Rhiannon leaned forward to rest her hands on her knees. “You know…that’s the first thing you’ve said to me that was honest.”
