Grand Master (Demons, #3)

by Simcoe, Marina

  “You really hadn’t considered the possibility of such an outcome?” Keller tilted his head, obviously enjoying my distress—feeding off it, as if he were some kind of energy vampire himself.

  I desperately hoped he was just toying with me, but what he said made sense. If anyone out there wanted the demons dead, now they had a way to accomplish it.

  “But the Priory has been helping Incubi, even when at the expense of the lives of human women.”

  “The Priory has been containing them, my dear, by any means necessary, for a lack of any more effective ways of dealing with them. Until now.”

  “It can’t be,” I mumbled, clasping my shaking hands in my lap, terror gripping my heart with icy fingers.

  “Yet it is happening.” He paused, probably to let the full horror of this sink in me. “But there is still a chance for you to save Valefor. As long as he has not been Forgiven, he will be impossible to exterminate.”

  “I won’t help you enslave him,” I said, my voice firm.

  Keller leaned closer across the table, fixing me with his glare.

  “Unlike his,” he gritted through his teeth, “your own life is fragile. And who knows what might happen to an Incubus whose Mistress is dead.” Without taking his unblinking stare off me, he took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair again, arms crossed over his chest. “It would be a shame if Valefor was to suffer such an unfortunate loss.”

  My chest seemed to be closing in on itself, and I forced some air into my lungs, determined not to make too obvious the devastation his words had created inside me.

  “A moot point—my life is not on the negotiation table here. I know you have no plans of letting me out of this alive either way. Why else would you be telling me all the things you have? You’re not intending for me to live long enough to tell the tale.”

  “Smart.” Something like a flicker of genuine admiration crossed his features for a moment. “However, your life is in my hands, and I may consider gifting it back to you if you do exactly what you’re told.”

  Chapter 34

  UPON LANDING SEVERAL hours later, Keller’s monks dragged me out of the aeroplane and into one of the several all-terrain vehicles parked near what looked like a small airstrip in the middle of nowhere.

  Whatever hope I might have had of escaping evaporated when faced with the deserted landscape interspersed with patches of short, grey vegetation and melting snow.

  “Where are we?” I asked the monk sitting next to me on the bench inside the tarp covered back of the vehicle they’d shoved me into.

  “Brother Valeriy has vowed an oath of silence,” the one across from me spoke instead. “Not that we should be talking to you anyway.”

  The monk appeared very young, no more than twenty. However, the disdain on his face was way beyond his years.

  “Well, since you are talking, where are we?” I asked in Russian, the language he spoke.

  “Doesn’t matter to you.” He smirked, without looking at me, as though to do so was offensive. “It’s a long way to your embassy from here—you’d have a better chance blasting into space than getting back to where you came from.”

  One of the other monks nudged him, and he went silent.

  “How long is the drive going to be?” I asked anyway, but none of them replied this time—all avoided eye contact, too.

  Unable to see anything through the few narrow gaps in the tarp, I did some quick calculations in my head.

  I had nothing to accurately track the time, but by my estimation, the flight must have taken us about five to six hours. Except that I had no idea in what direction we had flown.

  Since I was abducted in the late afternoon, taking the ride in the van and the flight into account, it should be early morning right now. However, I noted on the way from the aeroplane to the vehicle, that the sun was already a considerable distance above the horizon, which meant we flew against the sun . . .

  East.

  The chill that sneaked inside my coat seeped deeper into my bones. Keller had taken me East, not West. The desert I glimpsed outside could have been anywhere in the southern parts of the former Soviet Union. Some of which were scarcely populated states run by corrupt governments. That snappy monk was right, my embassy—any western country embassy—would be a long way away.

  ‘You have a better chance blasting into space . . .’

  I strained my memory. Baikonur, the Russian Star City where the spacecraft launch facility was located, was in southern Kazakhstan. Was this where Keller had taken me?

  THE DRIVE FROM THE landing strip took us another couple of hours. The sun was considerably higher over the horizon when the caravan of vehicles stopped and I was allowed outside again.

  The sun blinded me, as cool wind bit at my face and snuck under my coat.

  “Get her ready,” Keller ordered to the monks when the two of them brought me to him. “Keep her away from the others. We’ll start as soon as everything is set up.”

  “This way.” The same huffy monk who spoke to me during the drive yanked at my arm, dragging me away with the help of another one.

  Blinking in the sunlight and huddling from the wind, I tried to get a better idea of where I actually was by examining the landscape.

  At some distance, I spotted a large object of uneven shape that seemed to be half buried by dirt and sparse vegetation. Closer to us, there were several rows of dilapidated huts, where the monks seemed to be taking me. And to the side, there was a cluster of much more modern looking tents, where Keller headed with a few other monks accompanying him.

  “Brother Grigoriy!” someone yelled behind us, prompting my escort to slow down.

  Another monk caught up with us, a bundle of brown material in his hands.

  “Here, ceremonial clothing for the witch.” He handed the bundle to the monk at my side. “Per Father’s orders.” He bowed quickly and took off in the direction of the tents.

  “Father?” I asked. “Is that what you call Keller?”

  “We are all the children of men,” Brother Grigoriy replied, his expression easing into calm serenity. “As demons are children of the Devil.”

  “Aren’t we all children of God?” I said, in an attempt to provoke him into continuing to talk, in hopes he’d say something useful.

  “God is weak.”

  “What?” I blinked, genuinely puzzled by his words. Whatever this little operation of Keller’s was, he seemed to have given it the distinct characteristics of some religious cult.

  “God has had his time. And his love for humankind only bred weakness and decay. It’s the Devil’s time now.”

  “Holy crap,” I gasped. “Are you all Satanists?”

  “Not exactly.” He shoved me into a hut, farthest from the rest, then followed me in. “We are the chosen ones who know the truth.”

  “Sure you are.”

  I swept the inside of the hut with my gaze. It appeared to have served as a shed or a small cabin some time ago. Now, the floor was covered by a layer of dirt and debris blown in by the wind through gaps in the walls, and the whole structure seemed to be falling apart.

  “The Devil’s reign is approaching.” Brother Grigoriy shook out the bundle in his hands, unfurling a long, brown robe similar to the ones they wore. “He has sent the demons—his children and his soldiers—to cleanse the Earth of the weak and feeble before his coming.”

  I had expected some brainwashing on Keller’s part to keep the army of monks at his disposal. This, however, had exceeded anything I could’ve come up with.

  “So this cleansing is what you expect the demons to do?”

  “Yes. All the rot will be wiped off the face of the world, so the strong and the chosen ones can flourish. Get ready . . .” He thrust the robe my way. “For the meeting with the messenger of Hell—Valefor, the Devil’s Soldier.”

  Chapter 35

  SHIELDING MY FACE FROM the wind, I hurried behind the two monks tugging me through the desert towards a large domed shape in the dis
tance. Struggling to keep up with the punishing pace the two had set, I could barely breathe, the cold air piercing my lungs.

  “Worthless,” Brother Grigoriy threw my way.

  Barefoot, dressed only in the coarse brown robe they had forced on me, I couldn’t keep my teeth from chattering and tried to ignore him.

  Worry about Vadim fuelled me with anxiety, numbing me against the monk’s insults. One didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that Keller had planned another summoning ritual for Vadim, which I knew would hurt him.

  “Your only purpose is to satisfy the desires of the flesh for men, nothing more.” Brother Grigoriy wouldn’t quit. “Even conversing with females rots one’s mind.”

  I wished he would stop conversing. In fact, I would have preferred he’d taken the same vow of silence as Brother Valeriy. At this point, I was convinced the only purpose of the yappy monk chatting with me was to torture and demoralize me.

  “Masculine strength is the true manifestation of power,” he went on. “Weakness always comes from females.”

  A brand new religion they had here, however, the concept seemed age-old and painfully familiar—women were evil.

  Tripping on the hard soil, I considered refusing to walk, making them have to carry me instead. Only, the thought of their hands on me filled me with repulsion.

  “Sooner or later, the Father will let us share your flesh,” he announced suddenly.

  “Fuck you,” I spat his way. His words finally riled me enough to abandon my resolution to ignore him.

  “You are a demon’s whore,” he explained evenly. “You have lain with him. Through your flesh we will all get closer to one of the Devil’s Soldiers.”

  “If you come anywhere near my flesh, you little prick,” I squeezed through my chattering teeth, anger boiling hot inside me. “My demon will rip all of your tiny dicks off.”

  The flash of shock—no matter how brief—on his face brought me a strong feeling of satisfaction. My reply had finally shut Brother Grigoriy up, and the rest of the way was made in relative silence, save for him mumbling something about ‘rotting of the mind’ under his breath.

  The structure we approached turned out to be the ruins of an old stone building, buried to the roof in the desert floor. Only the domed top and part of a wall, with an entrance carved into it, remained aboveground.

  As if subdued by the anticipation of what was to come, both monks were completely silent as we took a long, curved stairwell down into a large round room lit by a number of torches on the wall.

  The smoke from the torches made the air hazy, throwing an orange glow on a group of monks standing in a circle. Someone in the shadows beyond the circle recited something in a language I’d never heard before.

  The monks shifted, letting us into the circle where Keller stood, dressed in the same long brown robe as the rest of us.

  I tripped again on the slippery ground, my gaze fixed on a motionless, naked woman spread on the floor at his feet.

  Without saying a word, Keller gestured and two minions lifted the woman off the floor, taking her out of the circle. The way her limbs flopped, like those of a rag doll, meant she was either unconscious or dead.

  “Is she alive?” I gasped.

  “No, she is not,” Keller replied calmly. “And neither will be you if you don’t keep your mouth shut.”

  His threat vibrated through the chilly air. The sinister atmosphere surrounding me rendered me speechless.

  The sudden rush of cold against my exposed skin as they ripped my robe off brought me back to my senses, and I fought their hands as they dragged me to the place where the dead woman had just lain.

  “Let go off me, you sick bastards!” I thrashed in their grip.

  “Silence.” The order came from Keller. Then one of those who held me kicked the back of my knees, knocking me to the ground.

  Bent over on the floor, I realised I was kneeling in the middle of a pentagram painted on the stones. Short metal chains with rusted cuffs were mounted at the ends of four out of five rays of the star.

  A shot of panic spurred me into action. I scrambled to get up, but my hands and feet slipped, unable to find purchase on something warm and sticky that coated the floor. I caught a whiff of copper in the air.

  Blood.

  With a grunt, one of the monks wrestled me to the ground, flipping me to my back, while the other quickly locked my wrists and ankles into the cuffs.

  Fully restrained, spread on the floor with my arms and legs wide open, the helplessness of my position threw my panic into top gear.

  “No! Let me out of here!” Blinded by fear, I thrashed on top of the pentagram.

  “Quiet!” Keller landed a heavy kick to my ribs.

  Gasping for air, I tried to curl into myself, but the restraints prevented me from that, keeping me open for more abuse.

  The chants increased in volume, and the torchlight seemed to blur as the orange haze turned to red around me.

  The centre of the dome above us had caved in at some point in time, leaving a gaping hole in the middle, with the bright sunlight shining through high above me. The light never reached me, though, overpowered by the hazy darkness below.

  Mixed with the stench of blood, the air turned nauseatingly suffocating. Panting, I struggled to get any oxygen to my lungs, as my chest seemed to be compressed by some invisible weight.

  “I can’t do this,” I squeezed the plea through my sore throat.

  “Yes, you can.” Keller knelt at my site. “And you will. Name me his master, and I’ll set you free.”

  I knew I couldn’t trust him, still the mention of freedom sparked a glimmer of hope and longing somewhere deep inside me.

  Keller began to chant, too, his voice joining the one outside the circle. Then, with a flash of reflected light, he raised a long, narrow dagger over my chest.

  My heart felt like it skittered in my chest and my breath stuck in my throat with a renewed wave of terror.

  Unable to tear my stare from the glistening blade, I watched in horror as it descended lower with each foreign word coming from Keller’s mouth.

  “No!” I pressed my back into the stone floor when the cold tip of the blade touched the skin between my breasts, as if I could escape it by disappearing into the ground beneath me.

  The circle of men around us tightened. Some energy seemed to be charging them and filling the room.

  The thick, crimson fog churned and shifted over me, coagulating into a cloud. It appeared to be heating up from the inside, as the red had brightened to orange, then to fierce yellow and finally to a blinding white.

  Keller kept his voice low. However, the conjurer’s chants increased in volume once again, his tone firm and commanding.

  Raising my head slightly, I caught sight of an elderly man just behind the monks’ circle. Kazahk or Mongolian in appearance, his long, thin beard almost reaching his waist, he lifted a string of beads in his hands with a large pendant shaped like a half-moon.

  The beads and the crescent began to glow as bright light silently exploded from the radiant mist above me. Blinded for a moment, I closed my eyes.

  The dagger in Keller’s hand jerked, scratching my skin, and a thundering roar shook the dilapidated building to its foundation.

  The conjurer’s incessant chants broke into short commands—forceful and loud.

  A wave of warmth descended upon me from above, and I slowly opened my eyes.

  The cloud above me had expanded. Its edges, however, seemed to be stopped at an invisible line in the air, the same size and shape as the circle formed by the monks around me. As if unable to penetrate the space outside, the glowing cloud shifted and churned with a rumbling sound somewhere deep inside it.

  As I stared at it, the bright tendrils curled and squirmed, forming fiery images. At first, they seemed abstract and blurry, then the face of a roaring lion emerged clearly.

  No feature of the face stayed in place, every line moved continuously. Its mane was formed entirely
of licks of fire that spread in every direction, as far as the invisible circle would allow.

  The yellow eyes of the fiery apparition stopped on me, and pain distorted the features of the glowing face.

  Suddenly, the groaning noise that had been thundering through the walls under the prolapsed dome formed into words, “Release her!”

  Neither Keller nor the conjurer paid any attention to the demand, both continuing their litanies.

  The lines of fire shifted once again, making me gasp in shock as I suddenly recognized the features above me. Despite the burning yellow eyes and the golden flame of mane, it was the face of the man I loved.

  “Vadim,” I whispered, tears escaping my eyes.

  With a renewed burst of energy, the conjurer lashed out with another string of chants, and my man’s face became a lion’s once again as he roared in pain.

  I recognized the convulsions that distorted the features of the animal. They were identical to the ones that tortured Vadim while I held him in my arms during the previous summons.

  The tormented creature leaped down to me, but another barrier over the pentagram seemed to enclose Keller and me. The lion’s tortured groans bounced off the walls as he crashed against it in vain.

  “Oh, God, please stop this,” I sobbed.

  “God won’t help him,” Keller’s coarse whisper reached me. “But you can.” He nudged me with the blade pressed to my chest. “Tell him who his master is.”

  As if sensing the break in Keller’s chants, the fiery lion lunged for me again the moment Keller renewed his string of foreign words, yanking the demon back up again. His roar was filled with agony and frustration when the barrier stopped him from reaching me once again.

  “Now,” Keller hissed, the fingers of his free hand digging into my shoulder.

  Another tortured growl was wrenched from Vadim’s chest.

  “Mistress,” he rumbled, his eyes on me full of sorrow.

  The blinding cloud of fire shaped as a lion was the essence of the man I loved. I knew Vadim was the one enduring every painful lash of chants, his physical body twisted in agony out there somewhere. And I was not with him to help him this time.