Shadow's Curse

by Jami Gray

  “He’s young.” Darius’s comment brought her back to the immediate situation.

  “Quite, and not very strong.” She completed her circle. The demon trapped within kept circling to keep her in sight. “Which means he left enough of his name unguarded for someone to use.” She shook her head. “Stupid.”

  “Or he shared it with someone he trusted.” Darius watched their captive. “Who is he?”

  “Not sure yet,” she murmured, still working through the symbols. Something about them bothered her. Problem was she didn’t have the luxury of time to figure it out. Oh well, no time for delicacy. “Let him speak,” she told Darius.

  The ear-piercing wail resumed.

  She straightened, pulled on her power, and clamped it around the demon’s will like a vise. “Who Bound you?” Her voice emerged deep, sinking past skin and bone, pounding into the spirit of the demon trembling before her.

  The wails dampened to whimpers. He opened his mouth, the muscles in his neck straining but remained mute.

  Something cold and cutting pushed back against her hold. It didn’t belong to the one caught inside the circle. It was older, darker, and much more dangerous. She flexed her magical muscle. “Tell me.”

  Caught between the two warring magics, hers and his summoner’s, the demon’s body snapped into a painful arch. The strain moved from visible to audible as bone after bone began to snap. The whimpers turned to screams.

  Stunned by the ferociousness of the reaction, Natasha withdrew her magic. “What in the hell?”

  The demon collapsed, eyes open, blood seeping from his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth, his claws scraping against the floor.

  Darius crouched, a low growl emanating from him. He lifted his head, his eyes frigid with fury. “Part of the binding. It won’t let him answer.”

  “Maybe not that question. Perhaps another one?”

  He turned back to study their captive, considering. “Possibly, but you’ll have to work fast. Once he starts talking, the binding will take over. We’ll be racing against the clock.”

  Someone out there considered one of hers disposable. She refused to let Darius see how much that angered her. “Can you run interference while I readjust the runes?”

  She couldn’t alter the symbols on the floor and hold the binding back at the same time. Besides, her request would keep Darius out of her hair while she worked. Taking his nod, she shifted her attention to the runes.

  As Darius took over the binding, wisps of black spread like ink in water around the demon still writhing on the floor.

  “Don’t kill him.” The last thing she needed was another dead demon.

  She caught Darius’s disgruntled look. The symbols on the floor faded in intensity, but remained visible. Identifying the three she needed, she began.

  Reworking the runes took skill, strength, and patience. She had the first two, but not much time for the third. When it came to bindings, the summoner created the symbols specific to the demon they called. Those symbols represented the various objectives the summoner wanted accomplished. Adding in the true name of an Amanusa tied the demon’s wellbeing into the summoner’s goals. If the demon failed to complete their task, they lost everything. If they succeeded, they kept their life and soul, but were forever leashed to their summoner, unable to disobey given commands. Summoners tended to be a greedy bunch of idiots. Each success bred a thirst for more—more violence, more power, just more. Until the only possible outcome for the Bound was failure.

  Breaking through the unholy compulsion depended on the age and strength of the one Bound. In this case, because he couldn’t be past half a century old, she should be able to get at least a confirmation of what he was sent to accomplish. Retrieving the name of his summoner might be a possibility, since his binding wasn’t complete. The outcome would remain elusive until she began to unravel it.

  Darius growled. “What are you waiting for, woman?”

  She curled her lip then got to work, slipping through the demon’s fractured mental shields. Readjusting the symbols was like working with molten metal. Their power seared across her psyche. Tied as symbols were to the demon’s spirit, they fought against her attempts as if sentient, when in actuality they were part of the summoner’s inherent defenses.

  Relying on the additional strength of her own demon, she forced the runes to bend to her will. Overriding a summoner was never easy, and this time proved no different. In fact, there was a unique depth of age to the magic holding the binding together. Each change she wrought caused the demon to react and she swore the binding shifted as well.

  Once the first symbol was in place, she tried again. “Why?”

  The thrashing demon lurched on to all fours, ignoring the obviously shattered bones in his arms and legs. It threw back its head and howled.

  She drew her magic tighter. “Why did you attack?”

  “Divide—conquer—” Spittle flew as the words hissed out. “Musssttt—removvvee—” the rest trailed off into incomprehensible squeals.

  Firmly inside the demon’s mind, she caught glimpses of the summoner’s. To share with Darius, she repeated what she saw out loud. “First order, cause dissension among my house, second, remove key leaders.” No surprise there, considering who he attacked, but it made her curious. “Who’s next?”

  The demon didn’t answer, but turned its head with reptilian slowness toward Darius.

  The damn man laughed. “Your master’s not very bright.”

  The black mist solidified into ebony ribbons. As they wrapped around the demon’s limbs, he began to scream. Blood began to seep along the ribbons’ edges. Just as the demon began to babble, the ribbons reverted back to their previous, smoky state. The demon collapsed into a sobbing heap.

  “Stop playing with him,” she bit out.

  The demon’s mental acuity began to crumble and the binding fluctuated against Darius’s hold.

  “You better figure out who he is or who called him because he’s not going to make it,” Darius warned.

  “Can’t you hold him?”

  Her frustration rose as she realized the binding was leaving her no choice but to utilize brute force to get the information she wanted. There was no saving this demon. Hardening her heart against the tortured sounds, she forced the last two symbols into shape, then played observer to his broken memories.

  A smoke filled room.

  How cliché.

  Cards on a green felt table. Male laughter and half-hearted curses. Switch to cool night air. Stone against his back, smoking a cigarette. A shadow coming up next to him.

  No startlement, so probably someone he knew.

  The beginnings of his name, his true name, in a resonant voice. Fear sliding through him, his body refusing to respond as the names curled tighter and tighter, like barbed chains around his mind and will. As despair threatened to suck him into oblivion, the voice stopped. A bright, fleeting spark of relief. The summoner forgot to name his maternal line.

  “Jared Pick,” she murmured, sharing the demon’s name with Darius.

  The memories continued. Now warped and broken pieces, nothing made much sense. No clear image of the summoner, just a driving need to complete the instructions given. Flashes of blood, Sullivan’s rough shout, more blood, hunger, feminine screams and pleas, shattered glass, and rain.

  Natasha kept scrolling forward, catching images of her home. Hope pierced the mindless compulsion, pulling her up short. Something about seeing her home? No, seeing her, had given Jared hope. Hope for what?

  If she dug deeper, she’d chance losing more answers as his human intellect crumpled under the pressure. His death was a foregone conclusion, but she wanted to ensure she tried everything before it finished.

  “Natasha, hurry the hell up.” For the first time, strain colored Darius’s voice. “Whatever you’ve hit, it’s triggering the Binding.”

  Sure enough the links began tightening, tearing through the fragile spirit twisting in torment. Jared fought back, strugglin
g to override the compulsion curling around him. His determination to reach her was painful to watch. “He wants what you have—careful—”

  She tried one more time. “Who?”

  But it was too late.

  The binding flared and Jared’s scream choked into a gurgle. His inner demon clawed forth, his intellect swallowed by primal instinct. The binding stretched and the magical links warped.

  When the first link snapped, what was Jared snuffed out under the Binding, leaving only a demonic beast behind.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Darius muttered a quick oath. When the first link broke, he slammed a protective shield around Natasha. He didn’t stop to question why protecting her was his first instinct. He felt her powers slide into place under his, adding another layer of protection. Still, some long-forgotten instinct hadn’t wanted to take any chances with her safety.

  The skin of the trapped demon began to split, spilling a reddish orange light from fast widening cracks. His wails turned into demonic growls and his body morphed into the horrific forms of human nightmares.

  Broken bones disappeared under a patchwork of leathery skin and scales. As the body twisted and turned, Jared’s demonic nature took over, coming out to play in the Side. It wasn’t even close to pretty—tortured thoughts and twisted desires given horrific form. Fueled by mindless hunger for chaos and destruction, it would tear through the boundaries between realms searching for a new host. Which meant they needed to stand guard on the mortal plane and take it out.

  It slammed against the magic holding it captive. Each hit reverberated through Darius like a physical impact. He could withstand those, but it was the rampaging emotions trying to chip away his remaining control offering the biggest peril.

  The Bound’s animalistic nature began to bleed through the barriers, threatening to infect Darius. The air was heavy with hungering rage, and it called to him like a forgotten lover. The hot rich taste of blood. The intoxicating high as all hell broke loose. The primal satisfaction of rendering his enemies limb from limb, while the world broke under the terror. The visceral need to replace control and logic with the seductive lure of chaos.

  When a particularly vicious hit to the magic’s confines left him leaning over to gasp in much needed air, that rage coated his mouth like the spicy aftertaste of mulled wine. It urged him to indulge in another sip, another thirst-quenching drink. A ravenous need to destroy darkened his vision, narrowing it to a laser fine focus.

  He and the Bound locked gazes.

  Darius’s own demon howled for blood. Through sheer will, he held himself in check. Knowing he would pay for it later, he shoved his primal nature back, shackling it with chains forged of ruthless control and rigid discipline. Snapping and snarling, his primal aspect retreated, leaving behind the warrior.

  “Darius, dammit, are you listening to me?” That was Natasha, and from the sounds of it, she’d been trying to get his attention for a while.

  “Am now,” he growled back, unwilling to take his gaze off their captive.

  “We won’t stop him until I get back and sever Jared’s ties to the mortal realm.” Nice to know the little queen understood what needed to happen next. “Can you hold him?”

  Was that doubt in her voice? What the hell gave her the impression he couldn’t hold his own against a Half-Bound demon fledging? He cocked his head and met her frown. At the same time he adjusted his magic.

  Lethal, black ribbons whipped around the demon’s wrists and ankles. As if yanked by invisible hands, the demon’s limbs snapped into an X shape, even as it continued to struggle. Darius arched his eyebrows in a silent, mocking question.

  Even in full demon form, her eyes were expressive. Right now, they said as much as the narrow lines of her lips and her crossed arms. Funny, but he found her annoyance as intriguing as her passion from earlier. What would it be like to get her truly riled up? What lay under all that cool restraint? The challenge she presented enticed both natures residing under his skin—man and demon.

  An enraged yowl snagged his attention, reminding him to keep his focus on the problem at hand. He blinked, pleased to see Natasha mimic the action. She gave a small shake of her head. He followed her gaze back to the restrained beast floating above the floor. The summoner’s bindings wreathed over the struggling figure, competing with his own implacable restraints. A tiny flicker of pity flared to life. “He’s beyond saving now.”

  Something darkened in her expression. “I know,” she agreed softly. Her familiar arrogant mask fell into place. “If we don’t time this right, there’s a very good chance he’ll be set free among the humans.”

  She was preaching to the choir. Since a Bound was tethered to all three dimensions, breaking those ties needed to be nearly simultaneous. If any link remained behind in any realm, the mindless animal would be freed. While their combined efforts managed to currently hold him in the Side and in the human world, it still left the Between unguarded.

  With just the two of them, covering all three realms simultaneously would prove difficult. “We can’t sever the ties individually. We’ll need to time our hits. You’ll need to break the ties in the Between and mortal realms when I break these.”

  “And how, pray tell, do you expect to do that?” She shot him a look. “It’s not like cell phones work here.”

  “Give me your hand.” He didn’t bother hiding his grin when she tucked her delicate claws behind her back instead. “Scared?”

  “Cautious,” she corrected. “Only a fool would blindly trust the one sent to hunt her.”

  His demon purred at the backhanded compliment. “No harm. My word, Natasha,” he rumbled. He held out his hand and waited.

  After a moment she placed hers carefully in his.

  He turned it palm up, tracing a delicate line across the surface. She blinked rapidly. “You are Blood of Secrets. I’m Blood of Death.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “What do the two share?”

  He watched her devious little mind rapidly work through the connections. “Whispers.” Whispers of intrigue, of secrets and half-truths. The initial seed of all discord. However, this time, it wouldn’t be lies, but a way to synchronize their actions.

  The next pass over her palm laid open a thin line, leaving a crimson streak behind. As her blood seeped from the cut, he repeated the movement on his palm. This time she didn’t hesitate as she pressed her hand into his. “The blood connection won’t last long,” he warned, “but it’ll allow us to work across realms.”

  Their blood mingled, their magic twining together, forging a delicate link between them.

  Her fingers tightened against his then slowly pulled away. Her voice was husky. “Be ready.”

  She stepped back and opened the door between the Side and human worlds. Before she stepped through, she lifted her palm to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out with a leisurely sweep, licking her palm clean. A low hum of hunger escaped as her gaze darkened.

  The sound and sight sent heat and lust curling through him. “Tease.”

  Her lips curled in satisfaction. “Don’t disappoint me, Darius.”

  Then she was gone.

  ☣☣☣The exotic flavor of Darius’s blood still lingered on Natasha’s tongue as she reentered the mortal realm. The intriguing taste brought a slew of questions as the whispers his blood offered began to murmur. Did he realize what he so casually offered her? Sharing of blood, even such a light sip, could be dangerous, even fatal, in their world. It was so tempting to delve deeper into the secrets held in that small taste before the potency faded, perhaps finding something she could use later. Unfortunately, the snarls and growls coloring the air took precedence. So do the small problem of how to sever the magic in both the mortal and Kyn realms.

  “What the hell is going on, Natasha?”

  The harsh unexpected demand snapped her attention beyond the struggling creature before her. Ah, a solution.

  Gavin stood inside her demolished living room, crimson staining the side of his T-shirt and agg
ression surrounding him like an invisible cape.

  What had the boy been doing? “You seem to be leaking, dear.”

  “Appreciate the concern, but still doesn’t explain what you’re doing.”

  With her more volatile nature so close to the surface, there was no stopping the warning growl vibrating from her. She was getting damn tired of pushy males.

  Turning her head, she let Gavin see what he was poking. He stood a few feet away, a lethal blade held at his side, his face grim.

  She opened her mouth to answer, only to shut it with a distinctive snap as Darius’s voice swept through their blood connection, his voice curling around her mind. “Stopping checking out the witch and get to work, woman.”

  Considering how clear his exasperation was their newly formed connection was far from weak. Resentment at his unfair admonishment heated her face. She redirected her and her demon’s earlier irritation at him. “Jealous, pet?”

  She deliberately added a mocking edge to her question, needing to knock the arrogant ass down a peg or two. Or three.

  Still, they didn’t have time to engage in petty emotional games. Ignoring the mutters from the disgruntled male demon in her head, she turned to Gavin. “Can you reinforce the containment spell?”

  “What is that?” Gavin’s attention didn’t waver from the Half-Bound demon caught in her living room.

  “Durand, focus!” Beyond frustrated and highly aware of the clock ticking down, she snapped, “Can you hold him?”

  Gavin moved farther into the room. “Not unless I know what I’m dealing with.”