by Olsen, Lisa
“We’ll fall and die.” No sooner did the protest come than she welcomed it. What had she told Ethan? She’d rather be dead than his plaything. This definitely constituted being his plaything, more than she could have imagined.
“Shhh, trust in me, I won’t let you come to any harm.” Moving with confident strength and agility, he scaled the side of the building, drawing her up onto the roof with ease. Once there, he looked around, but there was no roof access to the stairwell.
“Please, just let me go. There’s no way down,” she tried again.
“There is always another way.”
Her gaze fell to the neighboring rooftop, spotting what he needed. There was no way she’d make it over there, the building was easily fifteen feet away, but Cady made no protest. Instead, she was caught up in the flex of muscle as her body broke into a dead run. Raw power surged through her as she pushed away from the building, soaring through the air with impossible speed to land on her feet on the other side. The feeling of freedom… the power… it was…
“Indescribable, isn’t it?” He swelled with pride. “I told you, I won’t let you come to harm.”
Cady watched in fascination as her slender, five foot five form easily bust through the locked door and gave them access to the stairwell below. No wonder he was able to resist Ethan so easily. What couldn’t she do with that kind of power?
“What indeed,” her own voice chuckled aloud.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It had been easy enough to find the place, the tiny bungalow tucked in between two larger craftsmans. The sight of the chimney gave him hope that he had the right place, but it was impossible to tell without any signs of movement inside. Ethan spent an extra twenty minutes watching the house from the cover of darkness, waiting for the last light on the neighboring street to go out. If he was about to surprise a family of four in the dead of night, he wanted to make sure he had a clean escape route planned.
This time he took not only the knives, but his 9mm and a snub nosed .38 tucked into the top of his boot, leaving nothing to chance. It wasn’t the best plan to go in guns blazing, but he’d be damned if he let Q get away again. If he had to perform the binding ritual with the subject shot and bleeding, so be it.
Approaching with silent stealth, Ethan made a slow circuit around the house before he decided on a point of entry. All set to pick the lock on the rear door, a twist of the handle revealed it was unlocked, and he stepped inside, cautious of the sound the squeaky hinges made. Ethan waited a moment, and another, his heart pounding slow and steady, until he was absolutely certain the noise had no repercussions.
Gun held loosely at his side, he crept through the darkened house, a flare of recognition going through him as he spotted the old fashioned woodstove and window seat, just as Cady had described them, and the collection of matryoshka dolls on glass shelves tucked into the corner. He had the right place.
Moving faster now, he searched the small bedroom off of the living room and the bathroom before following the hall to the master bedroom. There on the bed lay his quarry. A man of his general size, blonde hair cut in a similar fashion. The rusty dagger drew out of its sheath without a sound, and Ethan gave silent thanks for the shag of brown carpet beneath his feet that masked his footfalls from the sleeping demon.
Blue eyes startled open as the knife went into Q’s side, and Ethan quickly followed up with another, smaller dagger to the shoulder. They were small wounds, designed to incapacitate, not drain the subject, but the man on the bed thrashed, with no sign of paralysis.
Damn, this one was stronger than ever. How did he develop such a tolerance to rust? Ethan wondered, even as he brought the pistol down onto the demon’s temple with a resounding crack. Q went still, arms flopping uselessly to the side and Ethan pressed his advantage, knowing it wouldn’t take long for him to revive. Drawing the black dague, he clasped the demon’s hand, preparing himself for the blinding pain as he drove the dagger into both of their hands.
Now came the difficult part.
Focusing the majority of his attention on the spell of binding, Ethan wrapped his free hand around the gun again, prepared to shoot him if he so much as reached for either dagger.
“Immundus spiritus, audite et scire timor. Hostis humani generis, vitae raptor, tu malorum radix vitiorum seductor hominum, proditor innocentes auctor invidia, avaritia, causa discordiae. Exorcizo te de cortice eius. Vis dimittere eum: et cognosco meas.”
So far, so good. The demon showed no signs of stirring and Ethan plunged into the final stanza, the air around him prickling with energy as he recited the age old words.
“Alligo te in umbras ubi tu sollicitent non spiritum liberum sempitérna sæcula. Ubi constringo vos, ut non nocent. Alligo me ad unum caro unus est.” The final words were charged with triumph as Ethan prepared for the tingle of power that accompanied the end of the spell and the white hot pain as he was branded with another demon.
It never came.
No flash of blinding light, no arc of energy, no rush of success.
The only sound in the room was his own labored breathing as he gazed down in puzzlement at the man bleeding beneath him.
“Shit, it wasn’t him.” That was the only explanation, Q wouldn’t have been able to flee the body once the rusty dagger pierced his skin. For some reason, the demon had already fled to another body before he got there. It was rare for any demon to abandon a host without an imminent threat. What had happened to draw him out of the man?
Pulling the ceremonial dagger free, Ethan tucked it away and bound his hand absently, trying to decide on his next move. A groan from the man on the bed drew his attention, and he pulled the rusty daggers out, wincing over the rush of blood that welled in their absence. Grabbing up the sheet, he wound it tightly around the man’s body, doing his best to stop the bleeding. A quick glance showed an old fashioned push-button phone on the nightstand, and Ethan dialed 911.
“There’s a man down here, multiple stab wounds to the abdomen and shoulder, send an ambulance,” he reported succinctly, tossing the handset on the bed next to him. What the police would think about finding a man of his description in the house of a missing suspected felon was anyone’s guess, but Ethan couldn’t stick around to find out. He took the time to wipe down the phone, obscuring any fingerprints, doing the same on the rear door.
Less than two minutes later found him driving away in the white Jetta, obeying the crippling speed limit, his thoughts running a hundred miles an hour. Something had spooked the subject, that much was clear. It pissed him off to no end to have to start at square one again, especially when he’d been so close.
For a brief moment he considered calling it all in and asking the Company to bring in the diviner and a new reaper. It would likely mean a transfer for him, and possibly disciplinary action, but it might be worth it if it meant they’d finally catch the bastard. The longer he thought about it, the more sense it made. He’d do his best to keep Cady’s name out of it, and as long as she followed his exact instructions, she’d be safe enough until it was done. Then later, he would contact her, see if she still wanted to be with him or if it was one of those heat of the moment things born of extreme circumstances.
Stopped for a red light, he sent her a quick text. Didn’t get him, stay put. A few minutes later the phone beeped, and he glanced down to check her reply.
You suck.
Ethan snorted, taking the insult as playful. Nice. He jumped to another body. What was I supposed to do?
Nothing but excuses, typical for a loser. Admit it, he’s better than you.
Easily splitting his attention between the phone and the road, he considered calling her to see what her game was. Instead he sent the simple response. The hell I will.
Smarter, stronger, sexier
Are you drunk? He sent playfully, knowing there was no alcohol in the apartment, but he had to wonder, she sounded a little strange.
No, I’m finally seeing things clearly. I’ve made my choice and
it’s not you.
Seeing things clearly? What are you talking about?
He’s more of a man than you ever will be, and I want to be with him in EVERY way.
Dread settled over his heart as he read the text. That wasn’t Cady, he was as sure of it as his own name. Who is this? He sent with trembling fingers.
Someone who knows what she really needs.
Ethan sped through the streets, pushing the Jetta as fast as it could go. The little car shuddered on the turns but got him there in one piece. Scarcely pausing long enough to throw the car into park, he raced up the stairs with a gun in hand and his heart in his throat.
Impossible. That’s all that kept running through his mind over and over again. It was impossible for him to have gotten to Cady if she’d stayed put. Had she broken her promise to him? Half expecting to find another stand-off when he unlocked the door, Ethan burst into the room, gun drawn and chest heaving, only to find himself all alone. “Cady?” he called out into the stillness, as if she might magically appear from under the bed.
Methodically, he checked under the bed himself, and in the closet until he reached the bathroom where he found the broken out window. Shit… the bathroom. He’d forgotten to protect the bathroom. How could he be so stupid?
The bottom of the tub was wet, a damp towel lying in a sodden heap on the floor; he could guess what she’d been doing when the bastard came for her. “Goddamn it!” His fist lashed out, smashing the eight by ten mirror into a hundred pieces. How the hell had he gotten her out of there? The protections were still in place, he could feel them. How had he even found her with the talisman he’d given her?
The offending rock sat on the floor between the toilet and the bathtub and Ethan scooped it up. The protection spell was still active, and his bloodied hand closed around the stone, welcoming the stab of pain it brought. He needed to get her back. He needed a plan.
Shoving the pendant into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, retreating to the dubious shelter of the apartment. Instead of sending another text, he dialed the number, half expecting it to go to voicemail before Cady’s voice came on the line, high and sweet.
“Cady here.”
“Cady?”
“That’s me.”
“Are you alright?” It was hard to believe he’d let her on the phone, harder still to believe her light tone.
“I’m better than alright, I’m fantastic. The best I’ve ever been.”
“Did you send me those texts before?”
“Of course, who else would?”
“What did you mean by them?”
“What do you think I meant, idiot? I don’t want you anymore. I’m not even sure why I did in the first place. It’s not like you ever came through between the sheets. I mean even if you couldn’t get it up, you could have done other stuff to take care of my needs.”
“What?” Ethan stared at the phone. What the hell was she talking about?
“He satisfies me in ways you never can.” She made a sound, like a cat stretching in the noonday sun, and Ethan knew something was up.
“Cady… is this…” It was too awful to say it aloud, but he forced the words. “Is he in you right now?”
“Yes, and it feels wonderful,” she purred, even as his stomach clenched in revulsion. He’d never once considered that Asherik might take her as his host, he’d never taken the form of his victims. Ethan was beyond using euphemisms for the demon’s name any longer, it had become too personal.
“That sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?” he asked the demon inside her. “It’s a little hard for you to rape and torture when it’s yourself, isn’t it?”
“That just shows how little you understand me,” she replied, her voice cold. “I force nothing that she doesn’t want in the deepest part of her soul.”
“Prove it, let me talk to Cady,” he demanded. The line fell silent and Ethan thought he might have lost the connection, but then her voice reached his ears, trembling and uncertain.
“Ethan?”
“Cady!”
“Ethan, oh God, Ethan,” her voice shook, the words tumbling out fast. “You have to come and get me, please!”
“Where are you?”
“I-I don’t know exactly, it’s a boat, but I couldn’t see the name. I saw the St. Francis Yacht Club on the way in. I see… there’s a boat next to us, it’s called The Flying… That’s enough.” Her voice changed as the demon took control again and Ethan suppressed a growl of frustration.
“You heard her, she wants me to save her,” he snarled. “She doesn’t want to be with you.”
“I’ll be the one to show her what she wants.”
It was surreal hearing those words in her own sweet voice, and it was all Ethan could do to calm down enough to say what needed to be said. “If you hurt her in any way. I will kill you, do you understand me?”
“Go ahead and try, it won’t do you a lick of good,” her voice rang with bravado. “We both know you won’t hurt her to get to me.”
“Cady, I know you can hear me in there, I will come for you,” Ethan pledged.
“Come or don’t come, I’m sure I can find all sorts of things to do to keep her satisfied until you get here.”
The line went dead, and Ethan pressed the phone to the bridge of his nose hard enough to snap the case, tamping down the rage until he could think again. He knew what needed to be done, but could he actually do it? Any way it went down, he couldn’t see Cady surviving the ordeal. Forget calling the Company for reinforcements now; if he did that he’d have no options at all. There had to be a way for her to walk out of this alive and free of that fucker.
He needed a plan. He needed it badly.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“He’ll come for me. He’ll come for me. He’ll come for me.” Cady clung to the steady litany in the cage of her mind, the better to divorce herself from the demon’s actions while he commanded her body.
“Shhh, it’ll all be over soon enough.” His voice spoke in her mind and Cady drew herself into a tighter ball, refusing to acknowledge his presence.
“He’ll come for me.”
“That’s exactly what I’m counting on.”
Something in the way he said the words made her sit up and take notice. “What are you planning?”
“All in good time. I must say, your reaper does not disappoint. He’s watching us now if I’m not mistaken.”
“Ethan is here?” Cady tried to see what he was seeing, but all she spotted was the string of boats tied to the pier.
“I imagine it’ll take him some time to work himself up to approaching, but yes, he’s out there alright.”
As much as her heart thrilled to know he’d found her, Cady had to wonder. Why was Ash sitting there, waiting for Ethan to arrive? They were on a boat after all, it would be easy as pie to get away. “You’re not going to run?”
“Why should I, when I worked so hard to get him here in the first place?”
* * *
Ethan spotted her easily enough. The long red hair was a dead giveaway, and for whatever reason he hadn’t bothered to close any of the curtains in the cabin. The boat was a large one, more of a luxury yacht, with two visible levels above the main deck. The lights blazed inside, illuminating the sumptuous interior clearly. Besides Cady, the yacht appeared to be deserted, no crew in sight.
She paced back and forth in front of the windows, a slender champagne flute in hand, occasionally pausing to bring it to her lips, staring out into the night. It would be light soon and for some reason, Ethan felt like he had to approach under the cover of darkness. There was nothing but superstition to it, but he couldn’t help but feel like if the new day dawned, he might lose her forever.
Light on his feet, he left his vantage point from behind a tall sailboat dubbed The Immaculata, creeping closer until he reached the shadows near the hull. Grasping the nylon rope tethering the bow to the dock, Ethan climbed hand over hand, careful not to bump against the fiberglass for fea
r of giving away his position. Without a sound, he hoisted himself up and over the side, landing in a crouch.
Cady stood on the deck, watching his efforts intently. The marine breeze caught at her hair, but she gave no sign that the chill bothered her in the brief shorts and tank top. “Very impressive, you always were athletic.” A faint smile curved her lips as she extended a crystal flute to him. “Champagne?”
“No, thank you.” Ethan turned down the offer, gaining his feet cautiously. Having lost the advantage of stealth, he faltered somewhat, hand hovering over the dagger, but not drawing it just yet. “I told you I’d find you.”
“So you did. I admit, I thought it would take you a little longer to accomplish it,” she smiled, draining the flute and tossing it over the side. “Well then, shall we begin?”
“Begin what?” His eyes narrowed, circling warily. Was that supposed to be a signal to someone else hidden on the boat?
“What you’ve come to do.” Her hands spread wide, taking a step in his direction. “To bind me, of course.”
Thrown off balance by the invitation, Ethan took a step to the side, continuing to circle. What was the bastard up to now? “You want me to bind you now?”
“Of course not, but we won’t get anywhere until we get this part out of the way, will we? Go ahead, do your worst. I won’t fight you.” Her lips parted in an inviting smile, but Ethan had to remind himself that it wasn’t Cady looking out at him from behind those brown eyes, it was the monster. He had to do it, he had no choice.
Forgive me, he whispered in the stillness of his mind, drawing the rusty dagger and plunging it into her side.
Her body went rigid, a sickly smile frozen on her lips. “You know… she’ll die…” she bit out.
“I’m sorry, Cady.” His voice was heavy with sorrow for the girl trapped inside the frozen shell. The girl he loved. Gently lowering her to the deck, he brushed the hair back from her brow, tucking it behind her ear. “This is the way it has to be.” Ethan plunged the second rusty dagger into her shoulder with enough force to pin her to the polished wood.
