Knight's Curse (16 page)

“What are you planning to tell Gavin?” he asked.

Good question. I’d have to put my refined lying skills to good use. “I’ll tell him I don’t need Quin’s help. Then I’ll lie and say Geraldine shared the ritual for angel evocation at the same time she told me about my father.”

“He’ll be pissed you didn’t let him know this before now.”

I realized that, but I’d cross that bridge as I watched it burn behind me.

Zee never made it back to her post outside my room, and I returned to my prison unseen. After locking myself back in, I slipped a note under the door with a request to see Gavin and he showed up less than an hour later.

“I understand you want to see me.” Gavin stood in the doorway, his expression flat and his eyes half-lidded, looking bored. He took a quick peek at his watch as if I kept him from an important appointment.

I lay propped up on the bed by two pillows stacked against the headboard. “Where’s Zee?”

“In my bed. Why?”

That was far more information than I needed to know. I shrugged, but didn’t hide the disgust on my face. “Just wondering.” I pointed the remote at the TV and switched it off. “How much longer are you planning to keep me locked up in here?”

His chest heaved with a silent sigh. “Not much. Do you have something better to do?”

Asshole.
“Dinner and a movie?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

A date? My stomach turned so fast I thought I’d lose my lunch. All I’d been fed today was peanut butter and grape jelly on white bread and a glass of Kool-Aid, compliments of Zee. “If it will get me out of this museum for a few hours then yes, I’m asking you out. But only if Aydin can come with us.”

His eyes flashed. “No.”

Okay, no more games. I tossed the remote on the bed and swung my legs over the side. Swallowing hard, I asked, “How’s Quin?”

“You’re full of questions tonight.” He stepped farther into the room and took a seat on a ladder-back chair by the window. “Are you that bored?”

He knew I was. The jerk. “I’d just like to make sure Quin’s all right.”

“He’s as well as can be expected under the circumstances.” Gavin slipped a cigar from his shirt pocket. “Do you mind?”

“I sure as hell do.” I made a face and he put the cigar away. “You don’t have to hurt him anymore, Gavin. I can do this without Quin.”

Gavin squinted at me. “What could you possibly know about performing an evocation ritual?”

I bit my lip, letting my nerves show. I felt anxious and I wanted him to know it, just not the reason why. “I know the ritual because Saint Geraldine explained to me how it works.”

He leaned forward in the chair. “What did you just say?”

My stomach twisted. “When Geraldine confirmed who my father was and told me his name, I told her I wanted to see him. I asked if she knew where he was, but she can’t contact the Fallen. Only the Arelim. She said I could summon Barachiel myself if I had the right tools.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because I…” Crap. What could I say? A sudden burst of realization hit me like a slap in the face. Tears filled my eyes and I tilted my head back to keep them from falling. “Because I wanted to do it by myself and without you around. Contacting my father is
my
business, Gavin, not yours. You already took my mother from me, and I won’t let you take my father, too.” I confounded myself with the truth behind those words. I meant every one of them.

He glared at me.

“So you can stop torturing Quin now. I’ll perform the ritual for you on my own.”

Leaning back in the chair, he said, “You should have told me this sooner.”

I studied Gavin’s stoic expression, his skin starting to redden with anger. I tossed him a pleading look. “I’m sorry, okay? Just don’t hurt him any more.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Too late for that.”

He couldn’t mean what I thought he did. My heart did a tap dance inside my chest. “What are you saying?”

“Quin is dead.”

The tap shoes went instantly still. “But you just told me…”

He stood and began his habitual pacing. “I said he was well enough under the circumstances, which for Quin happens to be dead. All he had to do was cooperate, but he’d been nonresponsive since the moment we brought him to the Fatherhouse. If you had just told me this before now—” He stopped and hit the wall with the side of his fist. “Damn it, Chalice! He could have worked for us. His psychic powers were impressive. I even had a gargoyle arranged for his bonding.”

My breaths came short and shallow. I’d really blown it this time. But if the angels really had taken over his body to prevent him from working for Gavin, maybe they’d taken his soul, too. If so, he hadn’t suffered. If his body had been sacrificed for the angels he channeled, he never felt a thing. God, I hoped that’s what happened. Poor Quin. May his soul rest in peace.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“His body is still in his room.” Gavin returned to the chair and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. “We’ll have him cremated tonight. The plan is to make it appear that he made a sudden decision to return to England. We’ll pack up his house, fake his resignation from his job, and take care of tedious details to avoid suspicion. I can fix it so that his car runs off the road and catches fire on the way to the airport.” Looking pleased with himself, Gavin leaned back and slapped his thighs before launching to his feet. “Let’s go.”

I felt dazed and looked at him with unfocused eyes. “Go where?”

“We have a ritual to perform.” He waved a hand at the open door. “Tell me what you need to get started.”

I inhaled a shaky breath. “Give me a minute, okay? A man just died! Have you no heart?”

He didn’t even flinch. And he didn’t answer me, either.

I shook my head, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. Gavin was about to wipe Quin’s existence from the face of the Earth without any thought to the dead man’s family or friends. And he was taking it upon himself to have Quin’s house packed up—oh, shit. Saint Geraldine’s other hand! Aydin would have to get it out before Gavin found it.

“Minute’s up,” Gavin said. “What do you need for the ritual?”

I didn’t know. Aydin was supposed to find out from Geraldine, and I assumed he was with her now. I recalled the herbs I’d smelled while in Quin’s workshop. I had a hunch I’d need them, as well as something else. “Get me some of Quin’s blood.”

“Not a problem.”

I bet it wasn’t. “I also need sage, jasmine, lavender, absinthe and myrrh.”

He cocked his head. “Standard ingredients for rudimentary spells. Is that all?”

No.
“I’ll need the scrying mirror we took from Quin’s house.” I couldn’t believe I was going to try summoning an angel, and a Fallen one at that. Would Barachiel even come to me?

I remembered all the metal in Quin’s shop, the tin and the silver. And the crystals. Whether or not he used them in a summoning spell was unknown, but it wouldn’t hurt to have them just in case. “Bring me tin, silver and Celestine crystal.” I felt like a total fraud. “That should be everything.”

Gavin left, closing and locking the door behind him.

I clutched my head and fell sideways on the bed, my stomach tumbling with nerves. What had I done? And what would I do now?

LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER I STOOD IN THE
basement of the enormous Fatherhouse, at the center of a fifteen-foot pentagram painted on a concrete floor. They called this the summoning room. Bare brick walls rose up to meet a broad-beamed ceiling. Thanks to the light from the wall sconces, I could see rusty stains splashed over the pale floor. I could still smell the old blood.

“Use this room much?” I asked Gavin, who stood leaning casually against the wall.

He grinned like a wolf calculating its prey. “Of course. We depend on our allies beyond the veil to help us with our business dealings.”

The
black
veil. I studied the pentagram, noting the Greek letters for alpha and omega imprinted on the star. The beginning and the end; the symbol of the infinite.

The pentagram was a striking rendition of an archaic mark that symbolized the human being. The five-pointed star included all five impressions of the Great Light: Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Michael and Samael.
Angels.
It just proved how thin the line was between darkness and light. One couldn’t exist without the other.

“You ready?” Gavin asked.

Crap. Where the hell was Aydin? “As I’ll ever be.” An ordinary wooden chair was positioned at the star’s center. Did I have to get naked for this? I was dressed for winter, from a heavy down jacket to gloves and boots. It was freaking cold down here and I wasn’t about to take off my clothes.

I held my hand out to Gavin. “I need the mirror.”

He lumbered toward me and slapped the beautiful piece of carved obsidian in my hand. “Did you know knives and arrow points were made from this stone as early as 2500 BC?”

Yeah, I knew. And so what? This wasn’t a history lesson. I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the artifact. Obsidian was rare. Since this was an Aztec piece, I surmised that the stone had come from the Peruvian Andes. A place of intense dark magic. And I was about to taint my soul with its poison.

I gave the mirror a passing scan, reluctant to look at it too long since it had nearly entranced me the last time.
I
was in charge now and it felt damn good for a change.

“Obsidian makes the perfect cutting tool, sharp as a scalpel.” Gavin slipped his hand inside his sports coat and I knew he was reaching for the beautiful stone knife he had used to threaten Shui a few nights ago at the motel. Except the stone blade of that knife wasn’t obsidian. The marbleized red-and-purple colors were unique and I wanted to know what kind of rock it was made from. I also wanted to know why the sight of it had paralyzed Shui and obsessed me.

Zee came striding into the room trailed by Shui, the gargoyle’s folded wings giving him an awkward gait so that he hobbled as if crippled. He glared at me while taking his place beside his master. What the hell were Zee and Shui doing here?

“What’s with the audience?” I asked.

“Witnesses.” Gavin gave Shui a pointed look before adding, “And protection. We never know what we’ll encounter when trying something new. Though I doubt an angel, dark or light, poses much threat, it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

And of course Gavin had his special knife with him to make sure the gargoyle behaved. “What about her?” I inclined my head toward Zee, whose smoldering glare could have set my hair on fire. In fact, my scalp did burn a little and I absently rubbed the top of my head. “Is she a bodyguard, too?”

He chuckled. “Hardly. She’ll record the ritual for future use. I think the Fallen have the potential to be quite useful. A high bid for the gift of invisibility will make us a fortune.”

It was all speculation. He had no idea what value the Fallen would have for the Vyantara. I didn’t know what moral code they followed, or if they even had one. However, it was reasonable to assume they were self-centered beings that acted solely on their own behalf.

“Is Aydin coming?” I craned my neck to watch for him through the door. I couldn’t do this without him. I needed his strength and his courage, though I wouldn’t confess this to Gavin. “I figured that since he’s had experience with a fallen angel, he could help me.”

Gavin gave his watch a cursory glance. “He’ll be here. He said he had something for Shojin to do, and that’s just as well. Two gargoyles can’t be in the same room together.”

Though I suspected the reason, I wanted to hear it from him. “Why not?”

“They’re too territorial.”

Meaning they’d fight. That interested me, especially when I wondered how they determined the winner.

Gavin checked his wrist again, then shot his cuffs. “I don’t suppose you could do whatever you need to do to prepare?”

I scooted the chair back and laid the scrying mirror at the center of the pentagram. There were five bowls containing the herbs I’d requested, and one with the crystals, but something was missing that I remembered seeing in Quin’s workshop. “I need silver and tin.”

“The pentagram itself contains silver and tin,” Zee said, enunciating each word slowly as if speaking to a child. “All metals must be present to perform a summons. You should know that.”

Gavin shot her a sharp look that shut her up. He then said to me, “Proceed.”

Aydin? I need you, damn it!
“Quin’s blood?”

He reached in the pocket of his jacket and brought out a vial filled to the brim with something black as ink. I knew it was just the lack of light that made the blood appear so dark. He handed me the vial.

“I also need a knife.” I held out my left hand. “The ritual requires my blood as well as Quin’s, and I have nothing to cut myself with.” I hoped Gavin would offer me his stone knife, but he handed me an ordinary pocketknife instead.

I removed my contact lenses and gazed around the room. No ghosts here, which is where I’d expect to see them. There had to have been deaths at this site, sacrifices and murders necessary for a ritual that would summon something through one of the veils. With the exception of stationary green veils, a veil could open almost anywhere, but nothing could cross to the mortal plane without an invitation. I had the ability to see through a veil if it was near me, like the way I’d seen the Maågan demon on my first night in this house. Tonight would be my first time actually bringing something through on my own.

I blinked naked eyes at the doorway where a misty figure stood waiting. Aydin. He pantomimed that he’d have to get inside me. I knew what he meant, but when I considered the physical alternative, it gave me a thrill. There was no denying I wanted him, but it unsettled me to think of his ghost merging with my body. It wouldn’t do for me to pass out before things even got started, yet he couldn’t convey the details for the ritual any other way.

I sat in the chair and inhaled deeply while closing my eyes. Within a few seconds, I felt another presence inside me, filling me with heat and energy. Aydin’s very essence expanded each cell in my body, his thoughts and emotions like liquid fire running through my veins.

The sensation was more intimate than I imagined. Every erogenous zone in my body came fully engaged, and I squirmed in the chair while responding to his sharing. Hot didn’t begin to describe what I was feeling. If I were a smoker, I’d need a cigarette after this was over.

I sensed his wisdom, his knowledge, his “otherness.” Information going from his mind to mine was instantaneous. The experience was over within seconds, and I was still awake yet completely relaxed.

He also sent me a powerful sensation of calm and confidence. When he left me, the emptiness was so sudden it felt like my own soul had been siphoned away, leaving me bereft and painfully alone. The feeling vanished almost as quickly as it had presented, and I opened my eyes to see Aydin’s ghost disappear through the wall.

Shaking off my disorientation, I glanced down at the tools and ingredients by my feet. All were here, everything I needed, and I instantly knew exactly what had to be done.

I combined the small bowls of herbs into one, setting the absinthe aside. I crushed the sage, jasmine and lavender flowers with my fingers, filling the room with their pungent scent. The sticky, resinous myrrh had to be crumbled over the crushed herbs before I could sprinkle absinthe over the entire mixture. I hadn’t asked for matches, but I found some beside the herb bowls, an obvious ritual component I had overlooked.

I lit a match and ignited the herbs and resin. A flame abruptly flared toward the ceiling and I nearly dropped the bowl. Gavin looked ready to jump in the middle of the pentagram and rescue it if he had to, but that would have ruined everything. The painted circle around the star served as an invisible barrier between the mortal plane and the worlds beyond. Any breach at this point would nullify what we were trying to achieve.

I sat within the boundaries of a gateway, acting as its gatekeeper. I’d never before felt so in control.

I stood to position myself at the head of the pentagram. The fire had gone out of my herbs, but dense smoke swirled from the bowl and I offered it to the north, south, east and west. Crouching down to retrieve five Celestine crystals, I placed them all in the bowl to coat them in ash, then set one crystal at each point of the star.

I opened the vial of Quin’s blood and poured a generous amount into the bowl. I used Gavin’s pocketknife to slice through my palm, wincing at the sting of razor-sharp metal through my flesh. I held that hand over the ashes and watched my blood mix with Quin’s. Using two fingers, I stirred the bloody concoction until it became a paste that I smeared on my forehead in the shape of an X. I knelt on the floor beside the mirror.

“The blood of an angel blends with that of the host who serves as conduit to connect two worlds.” I touched my bloody fingers to the mirror’s cold black surface and marked a spiral pattern; the symbol for creation. “I summon the dark angel, Barachiel.”

Nothing happened, not that I was surprised. I’d probably missed a step. This ritual was meant to call one of the Arelim, and Barachiel was no longer a member of their club.

I shot a furtive look at Gavin, whose solemn stare made him appear more patient than I think he was. The tightness around his frigid blue eyes told me that much.

Still kneeling, I bowed in supplication to the angel I summoned. If the Fallen were as arrogant as I guessed, submissive behavior might get me noticed. A flutter of nerves ran up my spine and ice coated the pit of my stomach. Anticipation had every hair on my body standing at attention. “Barachiel, it is your blood I shed. I summon you to the mortal plane, to the human side of the veil, so that I might know the one who spawned me.”

There was an immediate change in the mirror’s surface. The blood and ash began to bubble, and steam rose in long streamers to twirl and spin, expand and contract. It was a lot like watching the formation of a cyclone, only far slower and at a fraction of the size.

I sensed tension from the others and only then noticed that flesh-and-blood Aydin had joined them. He stood calmly at the edge of the circle, hands clasped in front of him, his strong, handsome face angled toward me with his eyes focused intently on what rose from the mirror.

A series of colorful sparks burst within the swirling steam. The sconces on the wall sputtered before flickering out completely, but the light show at the center of the pentagram threw off enough illumination to make up for any loss of light. I set the mirror down on the ground in front of me and took a cautious step back. I blinked against the brightness and threw up my hands to shield my eyes.

A figure began to take shape. It stretched its enormous wings, black feathers gleaming with reflected light from inside the spiral.

The angel’s body was human in appearance and so pale that it glowed in the darkness. He wore a short black tunic belted at the waist with what looked like a silver rope. I had to tilt my head back to gaze up into a face of frozen white marble, its eyes as black as the obsidian mirror where it stood.

The fallen angel, Barachiel. My father.

He cocked his head while gazing down at me, though it was hard to tell where his attention was focused because he had no pupils. The blackness completely filled his eyes, making him appear blind. I thought I saw stars glimmer within their depths.

“It’s you.” His baritone voice carried through the room with a reverberating echo. “I knew it had to be you.”

I swallowed, fixated on his unnatural beauty, his skin so smooth it didn’t look real. Was he real? Was he solid, or an apparition? I reached out and touched his chest, his sculpted pectorals as smooth and solid as polished stone. And just as cold.

His hand covered mine. “Daughter.”

I inhaled a sharp breath that felt like needles pricking my lungs. I think I’d forgotten to breathe the moment Barachiel became visible. With the sudden burst of fresh oxygen, my blood flooded my veins with force, the rush of it causing a pounding pain behind my eyes.

I had so much to say, so much to ask, but my addled brain went suddenly blank. I was staring at an angel. A fallen angel, but still an angel, and now that I’d actually seen him and touched him, it was easier to accept who and what
I
was. And what my mother had been.

My mother. This creature had bedded my mother, made her pregnant, then left her without protection so that she could be murdered by a man from the Vyantara. How dare Barachiel let that happen? How dare he even call me his daughter?

My hand still against his chest, I pushed. Hard. He hadn’t expected it, and though he was twice my size and probably a hundred times stronger, he stumbled backward. One bare foot remained on the mirror as he caught himself.

He scowled briefly before looking amused. “You call me to you, then try to get rid of me so soon?”

I fisted my hands at my sides. “How could you do that to my mother?”

“Chalice!” Gavin shouted.

Barachiel turned his head, his lion’s mane of sleek black hair lifting in a surreal breeze, then falling in perfect waves across his shoulders. He glowered at Gavin. “Who are you?”

Gavin stepped forward, straightening the lapels on his jacket before tugging at the neckline of his shirt. “Gavin Heinrich, chief of operations for the North American Vyantara. I have a business proposition for you.”