Torn (26 page)

 

 

 

 

“No!”
I jerkedout, breakingaway from the vision when I saw the image of me. “That’s not right. That’s not true. It can’t be true. The third relic was destroyed! Deacon destroyed it!”

But Gabriel was not listening to me. Instead, he moved away. But I wasn’t released. Instead, I was trapped within the same swirling mist that had brought him to this temple.

“Stop it! That’s not me! Dammit, listen to me! I’m not fighting for the demons. I’ve been working against them. All this time, I’ve been working against them. Deacon, tell him!”

Deacon, however, didn’t say a word. Instead, his face was a mass of concentration, and I soon realized why—he was the one preventing the swirling mist from taking me away.

Deacon had kept more than his past hidden from me. He had some badass powers, and he was calling on them now. And as I watched, trapped and helpless, I realized why I hadn’t been privy to these powers before—because these were demon tricks, and that was something Deacon wanted to get away from. Far, far away.

He was pulling out all the stops now, though, and I knew that he was doing it for me. And while I hated that he had to dip into the dark, I couldn’t deny that the knowledge that he was out there, thwarting Gabriel in an attempt to keep me safe and with him, made my heart that much lighter.

And, yeah, Deacon was definitely doing some serious thwarting. Gabriel’s tattooed face was a mask of pure rage, and he thrust both his arms out in an obvious effort to counteract whatever Deacon was doing.

As for Deacon, all I could tell was that he was working hard. I could still see the man I knew, but the effort had cost him, and his skin and bones had shifted, the flesh itself changing color. He wasn’t metamorphosing like Clarence had, but there was definitely some demonic mojo going on.

Right then I didn’t care. Bring on the demon, if that was what it took. Anything to keep me anchored there.

“Fool,” Gabriel hissed. “Do you not see that even now you destroy everything you have strived for?”

“I see myself saving an innocent,” Deacon said. “A woman who would save the world, not a demon who would destroy it.”

“You do not see clearly.”

“I see clearly enough.”

“What was it you sought, Deacon Camphire? Was it redemption? I believe that it was.”

I could see the anger flare on Deacon’s face, but he didn’t rise to the bait and answer. He stayed silent, waiting.

“All that you worked for, destroyed,” Gabriel said.

“Don’t taunt me with what your kind denied me,” Deacon said bitterly.

“But cannot your deeds even now redeem you? Cannot what you do today combine with the deeds of the past to earn you what you seek?”

Deacon looked up at Gabriel, and this time, to my horror, I saw interest in his eyes.

“You stole the third relic from Penemue and hid it where it has yet to be found. For that, you were tortured, thrust into the pit, and marked as a Tri-Jal. You would have that torment be for naught?”

“I’ve made my choice,” Deacon said, through clenched teeth.

“Have you? You sought to retrieve the other two relics. Tried to find them for the purpose of destroying them. Tried once more to find a way to betray Penemue and serve the forces of good.”

“I failed,” Deacon said, even as I fingered the necklace and gemstone that hung around my neck. I understood now how he had known that the caves were in China and how he had known to warn me away from the acid stream. He’d already been there once, and he knew what to expect. What he didn’t know then was how to get the box from the water. For that, he needed my blood.

“You wanted to lock the gate. Wanted to earn a place in heaven and shed the weight of the horrors of your past. You failed, though,” Gabriel said. “With this woman at your side, you failed.”

“It isn’t over,” Deacon said. “We will still lock the gates.”

“‘We’?”
Gabriel asked. “This woman who craves the dark. Who is fascinated by its lure? By the power it can bring.”

Deacon’s eyes darted to me, and I wished I could shake my head in denial, but I couldn’t. Because everything Gabriel said was true. And if Deacon let me live, he assumed a greater risk than he’d ever assumed before.

“I will lock it,” Deacon said. “I’ve foreseen it. And Lily will help me.”

“Visions are tricky things,” Gabriel said. “But on the whole, I do not doubt your word. Lily
shall
lock the gate. And as for your redemption, all you must do is choose.”

Deacon shook his head, clearly not understanding what Gabriel meant any more than I did.

“
Lily
is the key,” Gabriel said, making my knees turn to water.
Me?
Though once I thought about it, I supposed it made sense. The flip side of the prophecy, and all. And it sure as hell explained why I couldn’t find the key on my arm even though I knew the proper incantation—my map doesn’t find people. And whatever else I might be, I was still a person.

“No,” Deacon was saying, shaking his head slowly.

“Yes. It is her—her flesh, her blood—that locks all the gates. Her flesh, her blood, thrown into the portal at the moment of convergence. And you need only lower your arm to ensure your redemption. Lower your arm,” he repeated, “and let me take the girl away.”

I swallowed, terrified that Deacon would do just that. There was a blur, then I saw that Rose—standing tall and proud with her new pink hair—had Kiera’s knife pressed hard to Deacon’s temple. “Betray my sister, and I will kill you.”

Deacon never even looked at Rose. Instead, he looked only at me. “I would never betray her,” he said. And then he jerked away from Rose, and in the same lightning-quick movement, snatched her knife and sliced off his left hand.

“Deacon!”

“I lost my hand a long time ago.” He met my eyes. “I thrust it into a stream of acid.”

I watched, aghast, as the limb that had fallen to the ground re-formed, shrinking and twisting and turning into what looked like a small, golden cage.

With superhuman speed, Deacon dove for it. And then, before I could even blink in surprise, he threw it straight at my chest.

It didn’t, however, hit me. Instead, the thing seemed to have a mind of its own. It bent and twisted and re-formed itself over the gemstone on the
Oris Clef
necklace, making a decorative sort of cage. And the moment it stopped, I understood.

This
was the third relic. Deacon hadn’t destroyed it; he’d hidden it. And I now wielded the
Oris Clef
, and all the power it promised.

And then, with the same incredible speed, Deacon burst forward, his feet not even touching the ground as he sailed through the mist and tackled me, drawing me out of Gabriel’s whirlwind. I was freaked and shaking, but dammit, I knew what I had to do, and with Clarence’s powers surging through my head, I called for the portal to open.

It worked. Thank God, it worked, and a portal opened in the floor only feet away. Gabriel raced after us, hand outstretched as he pulled for us, the tug lessened only by the massive power that Deacon had demonstrated. “In!” Deacon cried, and with him and Rose at my side, we leaped inside, the portal closing behind us even as Gabriel’s power yanked us backward.

But he was too late. We were in the void.

For the moment at least, we were safe.

It wasn’t over, though. I knew that. Not only did he need me to lock the gates, he also knew that I had the
Oris Clef
, and he believed that I’d use it. That I wasn’t going to lock out the demons but was going to step up to rule them.

Two visions of my future, and both of them called to me. Dark or light, and I would have to choose.

I shivered, thinking of what I’d seen in his head. The hordes bowing down to me. Worshipping me.

The vision had disgusted me as much as it had foolishly, shamefully, intrigued me and tempted me. To wield power such as I’d seen in Penemue. Could I do that? Did I have the strength within me to stand at the head of the demon hordes? Was my destiny, perhaps, to turn them to good? To help them, and me, find redemption?

Or was I only making excuses to slide into the dark?

I had no idea what the future held. No idea what I would do.

All I knew was that I had my sister back. We were, both of us, free.

I reached up and closed my hand around the
Oris Clef
, this strange relic that was both my salvation and my doom. Despite my uncertain future, I couldn’t help but be glad that I’d found it.

Because now I was the girl in charge.

And all I had to do was survive.

Coming January 2010 from Ace Books

 

The third book in
the Blood Lily Chronicles by Julie Kenner

 

 

TURNED

“Run!” Deacon’s voice cut through the haze in my head, and I realized that the ground was shaking, huge chunks of concrete and lethally sharp steel girders being thrust upward as the earth buckled and snapped.

Except this wasn’t an earthquake. This was much, much worse.

I didn’t argue, didn’t stop to analyze. Instead, I grabbed my sister’s hand and tugged her across the undulating floor of Zane’s fast-disintegrating training basement. There was only one way out, and we needed to be on that elevator. Right then. Right that very second.

Because I knew what was under the floor—I hadn’t seen it, but I was certain.

Penemue
. A master demon.

More specifically, a master demon I’d just royally screwed. Somehow, I had a feeling he wasn’t planning a nice, reasonable little chat. Instead, he wanted what hung around my neck: the
Oris Clef
. The key that would lock open the Ninth Gate to Hell and give the bearer dominion over all the demons who crossed into the earthly realm.

“Lily!” Rose’s shriek was filled with terror, and I turned automatically in the direction she was looking: Behind us, the floor had opened like a sick parody of a flower, concrete peeling away like inelegant petals to reveal a deep pit that reached all the way down into the blackest depths of hell.

“Move.”
I grabbed her arm and wrenched her back into motion even as I visually scoured the dust and rubble for Deacon.

The stench of sulphur filled my nostrils as the chasm burped vomit green gas. From the black pit in the ground, I could hear a deep, menacing rumbling as what was down there began to emerge—the demon himself in all his powerful, festering, massive glory.

And beyond him, separated from me and Rose by the widening void and the rising beast, I saw Deacon.

“Go!” he shouted. “Just
go
.”

One long, squidlike tentacle shot free of the abyss, then crashed down, shattering the ground as if it were no more substantial than Styrofoam.

“Dammit, Lily! Run!”

I knew I should. Knew I needed to get the hell out of there. But I couldn’t. Instead, I stood stock-still, my hand on my knife, my jaw clenched.
This
was the beast who had fucked up my life. This was the beast who had pulled the strings to trick me and make me believe I’d been doing good when really I’d been Evil’s puppet.

This was the bastard who’d done that to me, and damned if I didn’t want to look in his eyes. Damned if I didn’t want to ram my blade right through him. And, yeah, I wanted to wallow in the darkness that filled me following a demon kill, the bitter black that was the price I paid for doing what I was created to do. A master demon like Penemue would be the ultimate hit, beyond anything I’d experienced before. And oh, yeah, like an addict, I craved what could so easily destroy me. But I didn’t care. I wanted it. Hell, I
needed
it.

“Lily!” Rose screamed as the tentacle lashed out toward us, coming so close we could feel the breeze left in its wake. She screamed again, the sharp edge of her fear cutting through both my fury and my craving. I took a step backward, abandoning my demonicidal fantasies.

Because the truth was I couldn’t end him. Not this beast. Not even with all the power that came from being Prophecy Girl.

He was too much—too massive, too powerful. And even with my supercharged body and über-girl skills, I was no match for him. I couldn’t risk losing. Not to him. Not then.

Lose, and he would get the
Oris Clef
.

Lose, and he would use it.

Lose, and Penemue would control all of the demons that crossed over at the convergence. He’d rule the Horse-men of the Apocalypse. Not four, but four billion. Even more. Countless, untold demons that would cover the earth like a plague. With Penemue the master of them all.

Not if I could help it.
With Rose’s scream still echoing in my ear, I turned, grabbed her hand, and ran, the floor buckling beneath our feet as we stumbled across the room.

“Lily!” Rose stumbled over a length of steel girder rising from the concrete like a sentinel. She slammed to the ground, crying out in pain as the sharp edges of stone and metal sliced through her jeans and cut into her hands.

No time to worry about that, though. I grabbed the back of her T-shirt and hauled her to her feet. “Go!” I shouted. She stumbled a bit, probably not entirely used to her new legs and taller body, but to her credit, she picked up speed and headed toward the elevator, not falling despite the way the floor was buckling and shifting beneath her.

“Come on, come on! Dammit, come on!” Rose tugged on the gate to the old-fashioned elevator, trying to slide it aside, but it was easy enough to see that her efforts were futile. A little fact that sucked big-time, because as far as I knew, there was no other way out of the basement that had once been Zane’s prison.