by Patti O'Shea
“I get it,” he snapped. He wasn’t happy about it. He wanted Mika with him, he wanted her safe. “Be careful.”
“I will be—I promise.” She went up on her tiptoes, brushed her mouth over his and said quietly, one last time, “I love you, McCabe.”
Without waiting for him to speak, she walked up to the door and, after a glance over her shoulder, stepped through without opening it. He stared hard at the wooden portal, but it still looked ordinary. As soon as his amazement passed, Conor took a step to follow her. Her crossing had seemed so…final.
“Don’t worry,” a voice said. “She’s survived in Orcus her entire life without you. She’ll manage one more day.”
Conor turned to confront his father. “Why are you here?” he demanded.
“To watch your back,” Sebastian answered smoothly. “Someone had to. You were more focused on your woman than the situation.”
Conor opted not to argue. “Planning to cross back over yourself?” he asked hopefully.
“No, and I wouldn’t suggest trying to help me through.” The Kiverian smiled and halved the distance between them. “Keep in mind that I’m the only healer on this side of the veil, and if Mika is hurt, you’ll need me again.”
The truth of his father’s words made Conor scowl. Mika’s close-call was too fresh in his mind to disregard. And this was almost a joke: The demon he’d hated his entire life, the father he’d thought of as a monster, was a healer, while Conor himself was a bounty hunter, a mercenary, a killer. He had blood on his hands—lots of it—and Mika had recently told him that healers in Orcus didn’t fight unless in self-defense or in defense of a loved one. So, which one of them was the monster? The universe had one warped sense of humor.
“Where are your buddies?” he asked his father with heavy sarcasm.
“I’ve been doing my best to evade them. They’re not happy I healed someone they want dead.” Conor’s father shrugged. “And I wouldn’t refer to them as my friends—more like, uneasy allies. They’ve always known that I worked with them to keep you safe.”
Conor went rigid, his hands fisting at his sides. It took a great deal of self-command to keep from launching himself across the room and forgetting the vow he’d made. He couldn’t contain his snarl, however, and he was sure his eyes were glowing faintly. Without his contacts in, there was nothing to disguise his anger. “Do you expect me to believe that you give a damn about me?”
“You’re my son,” came the reply.
As if that were an answer. Conor’s growl started low and increased in volume as his rage grew. Conflicting thoughts and emotions hammered at him, and he struggled to hold them in check. Some part of him was stupid enough to want to believe the bastard. Another piece was outraged that the demon who’d raped his mother dared to call him son.
And in the midst of this, Conor realized his Kiverian half was not only free, it had destroyed its cage completely—he could feel his demon blood burning in his veins. That shocked him enough to regain control.
When had this happened?
He reviewed the past few days, but it had occurred so gradually, it was impossible to pinpoint one moment. He wanted to blame the change on Mika, but that was unfair. Yeah, she prodded him frequently, and had encouraged integration of his dual natures, but he was the one who’d undone the leash.
After a brief struggle, Conor stopped arguing with himself; he had more important things to focus on. “If you really want to help, tell me how to get the dark demons to leave Mika alone,” he said.
His father stared at him, and Conor stared back. He’d been surrounded mostly by humans his whole life, and the difference in aging was startling. This—like it or not—was the demon who’d fathered him; yet Sebastian appeared no more than a few years older than himself.
Conor now knew why his mother had hated to look at him; his resemblance to this man was strong. They were the same height, and of similar builds, although weightlifting had made Conor broader, more muscular. Their eye color was identical, and the only difference in their hair was the length. Conor wore his short, while Sebastian’s brushed his shoulders. No one looking at them would doubt they were related. He was probably lucky his mother had waited until he turned eighteen to throw him out of the house.
“What has she told you of them?” Sebastian asked.
Conor blinked. It took him a minute to remember what they’d been talking about, and that his father meant Mika and not his mother. “She didn’t know a hell of a lot,” he said.
“The Dark Ones do keep to themselves.” After a brief pause, Sebastian stepped closer, till only a few feet separated them. “They’re obsessive, not easily turned from a course once they adopt it. The only way they’ll leave Mika alone is if they die. And they’re not easy to kill—perhaps not even for an auric assassin.”
“Are you saying it’s hopeless?” Conor asked.
“No. You have some points in your favor—the biggest being that they want you alive. However, all they need do is render you unconscious, and Mika will stand alone. She’s Mahsei. They’ll be able to handle her in minutes.”
“She survived when they cornered her before,” Conor said harshly.
“Because they were toying with her, not because she’s a match for them. They enjoy playing games, but twice now they’ve lost their opportunity to fulfill their assignment. It’s a mistake they won’t repeat, do you take my meaning?”
Conor nodded grimly. “They’ll go straight for the kill. You said I had a couple of points in my favor. What’s the other one?”
“There are two more, actually. The second is that Mika’s your vishtau mate.”
Conor turned the statement over in his mind, but it made nothing clear. “So?”
Sebastian rested his hands on his hips and asked, “What do you know of the vishtau?”
“I know that the bond is considered sacred, and that demons can only have children with one of these mates.” Conor ran a hand across the back of his neck. Damn, was Mika pregnant? he wondered.
“No, she’s not.”
Conor’s gaze snapped to his father. “How the hell did you know what I was thinking?”
“Relax,” the Kiverian said, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “I can’t read your mind; there was question in your voice as you spoke. As of yesterday, when I performed the healing, your mate wasn’t with child.”
Disappointment came out of left field, and Conor was speechless for a moment as he worked through it. What the hell was she doing to him? With the problems he and Mika were facing, he should be thrilled there wasn’t a baby to complicate them. He cleared his throat, pushed his emotions aside, and asked, “What do I still need to know about this vishtau thing?”
“Probably a lot.” Before Conor could get irritated by the answer, the Kiverian continued, “But the part that will assist you in your battle with the dark demons is the sharing of power. Instead of both of you dipping into your own reserves, you can share one well. Something about that gives extra strength to both demons. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know, but the sum of the parts is greater than the whole.”
More potency in battle sounded good to Conor. “How do we do this?”
“There’s a price, I’m afraid.”
Conor muttered a curse. No matter how many advantages there were to being half demon, there always seemed to be drawbacks as well. “Nothing’s ever easy. Now, how do Mika and I do this?”
Sebastian studied him. “First, you’d have to perform the bonding ritual. Second, both of you would need to show absolute trust in each other. Without it, at best you’ll remain two individuals. At worst…one of you could destroy the other.”
“Explain.”
Conor’s father grimaced. “At this moment, you’re protected from most attacks. If you go through with this, you’ll have no defense against Mika. She’ll be able to kill you easily, because she’ll be behind your auric shield, not outside of it. As I said, it takes trust.”
Conor didn’t hesit
ate. “But, after we do it, she’d share the protection of my shield?”
His father nodded. Then he cautioned, “But it may not protect either of you from the Dark Ones.”
Although he normally wasn’t impatient, Conor found his temper wearing thin. He didn’t want partial answers; he wanted everything laid out logically. “Start from the beginning and explain it all,” he ordered.
After a brief hesitation, Sebastian acquiesced. He recounted the bonding ritual, reciting both halves. It left Conor stunned for several reasons: first, the finality of the bond. Even if things went to hell between him and Mika—even if she left him—they’d be tied exclusively to each other sexually. No one else would be able to arouse them again, not until the vishtau mate died. It was an odd magical effect, and a daunting prospect. Secondly, he recognized the rite from one of his books. He hadn’t been able to decipher its meaning, but somehow he had memorized the passage without trying. The third thing was the most incredible of all—Mika had gasped those words during sex. She’d repeated them each and every time, and although he hadn’t understood, they’d incited Conor’s passions as if on some level his demon side recognized her call.
Conor barely recovered before his father went on to the second part. That was less concrete, but Conor thought he understood the process. “Most demons don’t do this power sharing, do they?” he asked.
Sebastian shook his head. “Most demons don’t perform the bonding ritual at all, making it a moot point. But you’re correct. Even true vishtau mates rarely have faith in each other to this extent.” He paused. “From what I’ve seen, I doubt you trust Mika completely enough for it to work, either.”
Conor scowled. He didn’t like the thought of his fath—this Kiverian—watching them that closely. He asked, “What’s the third advantage you think we have?”
For a minute, he didn’t think Sebastian would go for the change in topic, but with a barely perceptible shrug the demon said, “Well, it’s less an advantage than a positive consideration. If you and Mika are successful with your plan for the Council and destroy the incantation to lower the portal, you’ll most likely only need worry about the pair of dark demons after you now, and not the entire branch for the rest of your lives.”
“Why? You said the Dark Ones are obsessive,” Conor argued.
“They are, but this is only one option for lowering the veil between worlds, and from what I overheard, it was always considered a long shot. After all, your position as the person who can remove the barrier is only legend. Many Dark Ones prefer more tangible alternatives. The duo assigned to you will remain fixated on Mika’s death and on your invoking the spell, but once it becomes known the grimoire no longer exists, the rest of them should turn their focus to their other plan.”
Conor mulled this over. He hoped Sebastian wasn’t feeding him a line, because he wanted this over, even if shutting the gate meant Mika left him forever. Above all else—even his selfish desire to keep her with him—he wanted his mate to be safe.
Mika had plenty of time to think. The Council had left her in the antechamber for damn near forever now, and that surprised her considering how eager they’d been to retrieve the spell. Maybe she was worrying about nothing. Maybe. Except, something about the guards on the demon side of the veil had left her uneasy. They’d acted…odd, and there had only been three present. Recently, whenever she’d used that portal, there’d always been four. That, on top of this wait, raised her anxiety.
Two other petitioners sat with her, and she unobtrusively studied them. The Nitah woman had given a faint smile when Mika was escorted in the room, but the other, a Elismal male, had ignored her. His snub wasn’t unexpected. His branch wasn’t as strong as they liked to believe, though occasionally there would be a powerful demon born of the type. Elismals thus had a sense of superiority that was unwarranted, but since she didn’t want to start anything, Mika bit back any comment.
With a sigh, she shifted. The small stone room was utilitarian and short on style, but then, why waste resources on making petitioners feel welcome? Even the rug she sat on was thin and worn to the point of offering no ease. Mika’s bottom ached from sitting on the stone floor and she shifted again, trying to relieve some of her discomfort.
It was the waiting. Impatience strummed at her, and she struggled to overcome it. She couldn’t allow her Mahsei nature to distract her from her goal. It was up to her to ensure Conor’s safety, and she wouldn’t fail him no matter how long she had to sit.
Mika straightened when the chamberlain appeared, but he didn’t come for her. Instead, it was the Elismal that received the invitation, and who shot both her and the other woman a disdainful look before leaving. It made sense that they’d summoned him first. Not only was he here before she’d arrived, but his branch was alleged to have ties to the Dark Ones, and the leaders would be leery of offending him.
It wasn’t easy for Mika to curb her antsiness, though—not when she knew McCabe would be worrying. And the longer this took, the greater the likelihood he’d use the gate. He’d absolutely refused to promise that he wouldn’t come after her.
The Nitah went back to her book, leaving Mika to occupy herself with her own thoughts. There was nothing she could do about Conor except fret over what action he might take, and that increased her fear for him. She needed to rid herself of it immediately. If she faced the Council in this state of mind, they’d sense it and use it against her. She had to be cool and confident when she walked into their chamber.
To keep her thoughts from straying to her vishtau mate, Mika considered what he’d discovered about their watcher. It made sense that it was a vampire, perhaps, but his shadowing of them made her wonder if he was working alone or was part of the interspecies conflict in Crimson City.
She’d like to believe she was jumping to conclusions, but if Conor had heard rumors of humans looking to ally with demons, it was likely that vampires and werewolves had picked up the same information. What better way to make sure a coalition never came about than to reach accord with Orcus first? Maybe the watcher had waited near the portal for someone to be called across. It wouldn’t be easy to trail most demons, but he’d been lucky and she’d come through. Mika swallowed her humorless laugh. She’d been having so much fun playing secret agent at the time, it was unlikely she would have noticed if she’d been followed by an entire army.
But why had he wanted to follow her? She had a guess. Demons were scarce in the human world. Maybe he’d wanted to learn more about them before using the gate. Vampires could do what werewolves and humans could not—cross the veil and survive.
There was no telling with whom Orcus would choose to align, but one thing was clear: Both the Council and the Dark Ones wanted the barrier between the worlds gone. And Mika doubted either human or vampire was ready for the consequences. Both groups thought they’d be able to control her people, but they would quickly learn otherwise.
Mika fidgeted again before she caught herself. I’m cool and collected. Not impulsive. She needed to use her humanness, and to retain complete control during the meeting. The irony of her weakness being an asset wasn’t lost on her, but she had to focus on one thing right now—remaining in command. Breathing slowly and deeply, she reined in her emotions. She lost the rhythm when the Elismal stormed through the room, but resumed her calming breaths as soon as he was gone. By the time the chamberlain returned and summoned her, she’d reached a state of composure.
Inside, at the far end of the room, the four councilors were seated on large pillows positioned atop a dais. It gave them the height advantage whether the supplicant remained standing or was allowed to sit on one of the intricately-patterned rugs provided. Hanging behind the leaders was an elaborate tapestry with a human king bowing before a demon council—his lords and masters.
This was only Mika’s second visit to the Council Chamber and it was as impressive this time as it had been the first. High, vaulted ceilings provided a sense of majesty, which was accentuated by the many rich
ly woven tapestries adorning the stone walls. Mika’s gaze absorbed every detail of the lavishly appointed room, lingered on each work of art.
Guards armed with swords were stationed on either side of the platform and at each entrance. Most of the weapons had jewels embedded in the hafts, but Mika knew they weren’t ceremonial. Each guard was a well-skilled soldier, and sworn to obey the Council until death. Curious, she checked their energy sigs. A number of them were Grolird, one was Setonian and several more were Kiverian. The only branch who wouldn’t think twice before starting trouble in here were the dark demons.
Mika continued forward until she stood before the Council, and folding one hand demurely over a fist, she bowed low. She didn’t rise until she was bade do so.
“You have the incantation?” en-Tanith, the Council leader, asked.
“Yes and no.”
One of the councilors shifted angrily at her reply; another scowled menacingly, and nin-Siath, the lone female councilor, glared at her. There was a soft glow in the demoness’s pale yellow eyes which told Mika how poorly her answer had been received.
“That is not an acceptable response,” en-Tanith said. “Either you have it or you do not. Which be it?”
“I have a copy. The original remains with Conor Mc-Cabe. He wishes to make a bargain, and has agreed that I may act as his emissary before the esteemed Council.”
The level of anger in the chamber rose at her words. In her peripheral vision, Mika saw the guards shift, blocking the exits should she be foolish enough to try an escape. This response was not unexpected, although she’d hoped they would give her a chance to speak. Her gaze swept the room, instinctively looking for alternatives should she need to run. There were deeply-set windows about twenty feet above the floor, and though they were narrow, she felt sure she could get through one—if she could only reach it before the guards caught her.
“You told him of your mission?” The question was hissed.
