Torn (23 page)

She’d seen.

And she’d assume I was cavorting with the enemy.

“Kiera!” I called, but it was too late. She was gone.

I turned to Deacon. “She’s going to go to Clarence, dammit. She may not understand completely, but he will. He’ll know exactly what game I’ve been playing.”

“Where? Where will she go to meet him?”

I didn’t know. “We never have a planned meeting place. Zane’s. Sometimes he shows up at my apartment.”

“No matter where Kiera meets Clarence, the question is, where will Clarence want to meet you? If he believes that you are a traitor, would he assume that Zane would be his ally? Or his enemy?”

I wasn’t certain what Clarence would think. For that matter, I wasn’t certain what Zane would do. He had no allegiance to the dark. Of
that
, I’d become certain. But he wanted his reward, and if he helped me, they would certainly take away the promise of mortality.

“I don’t know.”

Deacon nodded, and I could see that he was thinking. “Your apartment,” he said finally. “I could be wrong, but I think Clarence would want to confront you there, where he first met you. Back when he was in control. In Zane’s basement, you’re stronger.”

“I’m stronger in my apartment, too.”

“And that’s why you’re going to win.” He took my hand. “I’m coming with you.”

“No. I need you watch out for Rachel and Rose. If Clarence is onto me, that’s how he’ll try to hurt me.”

He hesitated, then agreed. I think he knew better than to argue with me where Rose was concerned.

My apartment isn’t that far from the Bloody Tongue, and I made the trip in record time, barely even paying attention to where I was going. Only driving. And imagining what I would do when I saw Clarence. Because everything hinged on him now. Everything.

Deacon had destroyed the third relic. I had no idea how he’d managed that, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it didn’t exist, and apparently no one realized that, a fact that gave me the tiniest bit of bargaining power. Because, hey, I was Map Girl. And if you were still in the process of searching for treasure, you didn’t destroy the map, right?

Except I wasn’t so much worried about being destroyed as I was about being tortured. Which was why I had to win this round.

More than that, I had a plan. A simple, brilliant plan, and one I had yet to share with Deacon. But I was certain it would work. It would, because it had to. I was running out of options here, and I figured it was my turn to have some luck, if not for me, then for Rose.

If Penemue and Clarence and Kokbiel all still thought the third key existed, then Johnson did, too. And once I got the incantation out of Clarence’s head for the Vessel of the Keeper, then what was to stop me from telling Johnson that I was going after the third relic?

Nothing, right?

And he’d insist on coming along for the ride, planning on ambushing me for the full
Oris Clef
. But it wouldn’t matter. Because we’d pull Rose out of Johnson, hide her in the vessel, and get the hell out of there, my sister disembodied but safe and Johnson stuck with his thumb up his ass.

I’ll admit I was still fuzzy on the details—like how long she could stay in the vessel before we found her a suitable body—but on the whole, the plan worked for me.

Best of all, it got Rose free of Johnson and me free of Clarence. There were still almost two weeks left until the convergence, and with Rose safe, I’d happily spend that time searching for this lost legendary key that Deacon seemed to be so convinced existed.

On the whole, my plan put me in a happy place, the only downer the fact that for it to work, I had to kill Clarence.

In theory, that didn’t bother me.

In practice, I had to wonder what kind of tricks the wily beast had up his sleeve. Because I had a feeling there was a lot more to Clarence than met the eye.

I expected to see them both outside my apartment when I got off the elevator. But there was no one. And since Clarence wasn’t allowed in my apartment without permission—and I now realized that must be part of the protections—I almost turned around and headed back to the pub and Deacon.

But I didn’t. For all I knew, the revelation of me as a traitor to the dark cause destroyed the protections. At the very least, I had to look.

I pulled my knife out and held it ready as I unlocked the front door, then pushed it open.

Clarence stood in my living room, his squat body in front of the window, and a beer in his hand. Beside him, Kiera was stretched out in a chair, her feet kicked up on my coffee table.

She turned to look at me, her eyes dark and anger rolling off her in waves. “You fucking bitch,” she said, which was Clarence’s cue to turn around and face me with big, sad eyes.

“How did you guys get in?” I asked, keeping my voice light, deciding to play this as if I were completely innocent.

Kiera cocked her head. “Duh. You think your crappy lock would keep me out?”

“I’ll have to remember to upgrade,” I said. I kept my knife in my hand—which probably destroyed the whole “innocent” thing—and headed toward them.

“What were you doing?” Kiera asked. “Why the
hell
were you up close and personal with Deacon Camphire?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said, shooting for an annoyed, yet casual, tone. “That’s what this is about? What do you think I was doing? Trying to get close to the guy. Trying to figure out what he knows, because I’ve been getting weird vibes about him for a long time.” I looked straight at Clarence. “You know what I mean, right?”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say a word. Interesting. This was the first time I’d seen Clarence do the silent-guy routine. I couldn’t say I liked it much.

“You looked close to the guy, all right,” Kiera said.

I rounded on her. “Dammit, Kiera, do you really believe I’m working for the dark side? I’m fighting my nature, just like you. We’re alike, you and I, so you tell me—what side are you on?”

She leaned forward, kicking her feet to the ground, ready to lunge. “I know exactly what side I’m on. And I know what I saw.”

“You saw me and Deacon,” I said. “You saw me finding out where the third relic is.”

Across the room, Clarence hissed in a breath. I turned my back to Kiera and walked to him. “And thanks so much for the support, both of you. I mean, God! I go out and try to do one thing—one really good, solid thing—and you both assume the worst of me.”

“You’re certain about the piece?” Clarence asked.

I nodded.

“How? How can you be sure?”

The beer in his hand was empty, and I took it from him. This was going to be the tricky part. “I was afraid you wouldn’t approve,” I said as I wandered into the kitchen. “So I didn’t tell you. But I’ve suspected he knew something for a long time. And I wanted to figure it out on my own.” I opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, then looked back toward him as I popped off the lid. “You’re probably really mad at me, huh?”

“I’m not happy,” he said. “But if the information is good . . .”

“Oh, I think it’s solid.” I brought the beer back to him. And when I did I made sure our hands touched. And I made sure I looked into his eyes.

And then—
yes
—I was in. And in a split second, I saw it all. The knowledge and innate skill to spin the incantations. The ability to master the map that even now burned on my arm. To find things—relics, vessels, keys, and more.

I didn’t find a damn thing about Deacon’s legendary key, but I didn’t have time to look either. I’d only wanted a peek. Wanted to make certain the incantations came from
him
—from his very essence—and not from a book.

I wanted to make sure that by killing him, I’d gain the ability I needed. That I would truly become an In-cantor.

I was certain now.

I jerked free even as he was still howling in surprise and protest.

Barely any time had passed at all, but it was enough for Kiera, and as I thrust my knife forward to strike Clarence, she tackled me from the side, sending my blade askew.

It skimmed over his body, slicing his shirt and drawing a thin line of black, demonic goo, but it didn’t kill him. It didn’t even come close.

“You idiot!” I screamed as I deflected her blows. “He’s a demon. He’s a goddamned, fucking demon.”

I rolled her over so that she could see, and knew that she believed when I heard her whispered curse. The black goo was proof enough.

But I realized what had really convinced her when I scrambled to my feet—Clarence, his clothing ripping as his demonic form burst free. Wings sprouting. Talons growing.

And angry, buggy eyes fixed right on me.

TWENTY-FOUR

“What the fuck isgoing on?” Kiera screamed,but I had no time to answer. Clarence was alive. Alive and pissed and seriously deadly.

For the first time in our short acquaintance, I was really and truly afraid of the dude. Because this wasn’t my mild-mannered, froggy handler. This was a full-fledged powerful demon. Penemue’s right-hand guy.

“Bitch,”
he snarled.
“Traitorous fiend.”

“Me?” I countered, my knife out as I circled him, trying to guess how he was going to attack. “I’m not the one who lied and pretended to be heaven’s messenger. Who the hell are you?” I demanded, because there was
no
way I was believing this beast’s name was Clarence.

“I am Clarvek,” he said. “And you will join me.”

Behind me, Kiera sucked in air. Right then, I wasn’t much concerned about her shifting perspective on the world, though. Right then, I simply needed to get Clarvek dead.

“Screw that.”

“You are as much a servant of the dark as I am,” Clarvek said, his wings spread wide.

“The hell I am,” I said, and I lunged at him, reckless and wild, but he’d played the one card that was guaranteed to get under my skin. Because no matter how much I might wish otherwise, the darkness was in me.

And you know what? Right then, I welcomed it. Welcomed the need to kill. The desire to maim. The absolute keening need to take another demon in my hands and suck down its life force.

I had only my blade on me, but I was making the most of it, twirling and darting, calling upon all the demons inside me, all of their tricks, all of their strength.

Even so, I was barely a match for Clarvek. He’d been around for a while, that boy, and he was fast. He lashed out with his talons, his arms now wings that knocked me over in a rush of air and fury.

“Lily!” Kiera had her crossbow with her, and she lifted it now, ready to aim it.

Those deadly claws, however, slashed sideways, knocking the crossbow free and slicing Kiera hard across the face. She yowled, then raced forward, landing a solid kick to his chest. Not that it did any good. He filled his chest up with air, then blew—and Kiera went flying, smashing into the far wall and leaving a dent in the drywall.

She shook it off, her eyes heading toward me, her expression both bewildered and scared.

I didn’t have time to reassure her. I was assessing my options. Clarvek might risk killing Kiera, but he wouldn’t risk me. He needed me alive. He needed me for my arm.

Which meant that he’d take me. Take me and hole me up somewhere. Lock me away like he’d done Zane, only I wouldn’t get a big basement. My cell would be small and cramped and dark and scary. And there’d be no promise of freedom. Instead, I’d get pain and torment and the horror of knowing that my skin was revealing secrets I didn’t want displayed.

The very thought was enough to make me freak. And it was
not
going to happen.

No way, no how.

The only good thing about the whole scenario was the fact that because he needed me alive, I could get closer and fight harder than I might otherwise be able to. And I damn sure did. Harder than I’d ever fought, wilder than I’d ever been.

“You cannot win,” he snarled.

“Watch me.”

I leaped on him then, deciding to just go for it and score some serious points for the good guys. Beside me, Kiera leaped, too. I had my knife out, and despite the fact that I’d managed to get some solid blows in, nothing worked. His skin was like armor, and he was, literally, laughing at me.

“Pretty damn foolish of me to think you were strong. To think you were worthy.” He opened his mouth and laughed—

—and I grabbed his tongue, pulled, and sliced.

It didn’t kill him, but it damn sure shut him up. And right then, I was taking my victories where I could find them.

Clarvek backed up, howling, then whipped around, sending a thick tail crashing down through my coffee table. I realized what he was doing and lunged for the tail, catching it just as he leaped for the window.

I heard glass shatter, and then felt the whoosh of air as we plummeted to the ground, landing hard in the middle of the asphalt, me on top of the one creature in all the world I hated above all others.

“Bitch,” he said, his mentally blasted words reverberating in the air like some demonic public-address system. “We gave you power, and this is how you repay us?”

“Power? You fucked with my life. You set me up to be some goddamned pawn in your stupid game—”

“We made you to be great. You wield the power, Lily.
You
.”

“Yeah? Well, watch while I wield it on your fat, ugly face.”

Not the best line, I’ll admit, but I wasn’t thinking clearly, what with the rush of the dark in my mind, racing through my head, urging me to kill and kill and kill.

I lunged forward, but he did as well, rising up on his haunches and swinging around with that deadly tail. It caught me across the middle and sent me flying, knocking me hard against the windshield of a nearby parked car.

“Lily!”

Somehow, Kiera had gotten down to the street, and now she was standing still, her crossbow aimed. She let the arrow fly, even before I could release a scream of protest, and it hit true, lodging in a soft spot between two ribs.