Read Surrender to Darkness Online
Authors: Annette McCleave
Surrender to Darkness (41 page)
He glanced at the glass brick window.
The sky was dark purple.
Christ. Bloody short days.
Knotting a towel around his hips, he skated out of the shower on wet tiles and snatched up his sword. Then he yanked open the door to his room. The hallway was completely dark, only a few shiny shards glinting from the carpet. Consistent with all the bulbs being smashed.
There was no time to don boots. He stepped into the glass, sword aloft.
His berserker took care of the pain. As adrenaline sped through his veins in response to danger, so did the familiar red rage. His body heat soared, his muscles swelled, and the urge to flay and maim overtook his usual caution.
He sensed them before he saw them.
Like a cool finger running over his hot skin.
Pushing open the door closest to him, he saw one hovered over the body of a trainee, silently sucking. The trainee’s eyes were wide-open, but he appeared to be paralyzed with fear. He lay quiet as the sapper hungrily drew his bones from his flesh. Another sapper hung from the ceiling, cloaked in shade, waiting on a victim of its own.
“Die, ya bloody buggers,” Murdoch yelled.
Then he charged.
Today was not one of the five remaining most auspicious days. Those were lucky from beginning to end and pretty much guaranteed success. Today was the next best thing, though. Lucky all day except for noon.
Not perfect, but still a good day to ascend.
Sometimes the opportune moment was better than the perfect moment.
Kiyoko carefully washed her arms and her legs, her feet and her hands. She tied her hair back and removed all traces of makeup from her face. Once she was completely clean, she donned a pair of black silk tank-top pajamas and sat in front of the fireplace to wait for Murdoch.
It was the last waiting she intended to do.
Having endured several painful and heated discussions over the last few days, she was ready to admit defeat. Murdoch would never change his mind. He was convinced that he could not control his berserker. So, tonight when he came to play chess, she was going to attempt the transcendence, whether he was willing or not. Two Gatherers had already paid the price of her desire to make him a partner in the process. Enough was enough.
“Kiyoko-san?”
She glanced at the bedroom door and bit back a groan. Yoshio stood politely outside, waiting for an invitation to enter. She still had not entirely forgiven the young
onmyōji
warrior for contacting his North American brethren behind her back. But turning him away would be rude. “Come in, Yoshio-san. What can I do for you?”
onmyōji
warrior for contacting his North American brethren behind her back. But turning him away would be rude. “Come in, Yoshio-san. What can I do for you?”
He slipped inside the room and closed the door.
She frowned. “I’m expecting Murdoch to arrive at any moment.”
Ignoring her, he crossed to the bed and lifted her pillow. “Where is it?” he asked.
Kiyoko gained her feet, her heart thudding. There was only one thing he could be referring to. Yet she had never mentioned the Veil to Yoshio, nor shown him where she put it while she slept. Which suggested this was not Yoshio at all, but …
Azazel
.
.
Her hand itched for her sword.
It lay on the bed, much closer to her foe than to her. But Murdoch had enjoyed no success using a sword against the fallen angel, so perhaps the distance didn’t matter.
He spun to face her. “Where is it?”
Magic was the key to survival. She raised a shield, summoned her
shikigami
, and leapt for the Veil, which lay on the table behind her.
shikigami
, and leapt for the Veil, which lay on the table behind her.
As she rolled behind the flimsy protection of the armchair, she caught a glimpse of the band around Yoshio’s ankle and felt a tiny flicker of hope. Azazel had made an error in choosing Yoshio as his mask. The moment he’d left the bunkhouse/arena area, alarms would have begun to ring. Help would come.
The demon growled and swatted at the
shikigami
.
shikigami
.
“This is stupid,” he said. “You can’t hope to win. Give me the Veil now, and you might survive.”
She used his distraction to toss a binding spell.
Which he swatted away as easily as he hurled her valiant tiny imps against the wall. “Are you counting on a rescue?” he asked, grunting as one of the
shikigami
plowed into his chest. “Don’t. My former brethren from heaven are currently responding to a series of large-scale demon attacks around the globe. Orchestrated by me. Murdoch is at this very moment locked in a building full of bone-sappers, and Webster is battling gradiors in the front yard. You’re on your own.”
shikigami
plowed into his chest. “Don’t. My former brethren from heaven are currently responding to a series of large-scale demon attacks around the globe. Orchestrated by me. Murdoch is at this very moment locked in a building full of bone-sappers, and Webster is battling gradiors in the front yard. You’re on your own.”
She tossed an exotic variation of the poison cloud hex at him, hoping the mustard yellow mist would seep through his shield.
He was wrong. He had to be. There were plenty of Gatherers on the ranch. Guards placed at strategic spots for defense. And even now, the ankle bracelet was sending a signal to Carter’s …
Her follow-up blind spell faltered.
How had she forgotten? Carter was dead. Which meant there was a very good chance no one was listening to the alarm. She really
was
on her own.
was
on her own.
Emily’s eyes popped open, her gaze locked on the unfamiliar stucco ceiling.
Where was she?
Her gaze darted around the room and then she sighed with relief. Her surroundings weren’t completely foreign. This was the guest bedroom in Brian’s house. Way to panic for nothing.
Stretching, she rolled off the bed.
The meditation thing had worked. Sort of. Sora had encouraged her not to lose awareness of her surroundings, but after only a minute in the lotus position, her forty-pound eyelids had slid closed. She’d fallen asleep. On the plus side, she felt relaxed for the first time in days, ready to tackle anything.
Leaving her room, she skipped down the stairs to the kitchen and dug through the cupboards for the potato chips she knew would be there. If Brian and Lena weren’t immortal, they’d be candidates for a heart attack. Swear to God. She poured herself a glass of milk, stuffed a few barbecue-flavored chips in her mouth, then closed her eyes and did a sweep of the ranch.
Chip bits spewed from her mouth.
Holy fucking shit.
They were everywhere. Dark, creeping shadows, hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Inky black ooze, filling every corner and slowly swallowing up the bright pulses of energy that represented each Gatherer. Snuffing them.
Her gaze darted to the patio doors. The porch light was out. Oh, God. A wave of dizziness hit her.
Okay, don’t panic. Think, Emily.
What was the best thing to do? Save the screaming trainees in the bunkhouse? Help Brian with the zombies in the front yard? Or tackle Azazel upstairs? Shit, who was she kidding? Could she really help
any
of them?
What was the best thing to do? Save the screaming trainees in the bunkhouse? Help Brian with the zombies in the front yard? Or tackle Azazel upstairs? Shit, who was she kidding? Could she really help
any
of them?
She swallowed the sour lump in her throat.
Not without help, that was for sure.
Uriel? Squeezing her eyes shut, she prayed with all her might. But there was no flash of blue sparks, no hint that he was on his way. She couldn’t wait. Her stomach heaved with every terrified scream echoing in her head. Gatherers were dying. Lots of them.
She had to do something.
Now.
Now.
Sora was upstairs napping. Stefan was in his trailer. It was a toss-up, really. One mystic or another. But experience put the best odds of success with Stefan. She’d seen him kick serious demon ass. And he was younger. That had to count for something.
She slid open the glass door to the porch.
No time to worry about what waited in the dark. Just run. Around the freakin’ hedge and down the path to the trailer.
You can do this.
Taking a deep breath, she ran. On an average day it took her three minutes to reach the trailer. Today it took an eternity. Even with her head down and her legs pumping as fast as she could make them go.
You can do this.
Taking a deep breath, she ran. On an average day it took her three minutes to reach the trailer. Today it took an eternity. Even with her head down and her legs pumping as fast as she could make them go.
She pounded on the trailer door.
“Open up!” She glanced over her shoulder. A shadow moved in the trees. No, more than one shadow. Six, maybe seven. She was going to die out here. Without waiting for the door to open, she popped into the trailer.
And slammed into Stefan, knocking him to the ground.
To give him some credit, he appeared to be heading for the door. To let her in.
“Sappers. And gradiors. And Azazel.” She gasped every word. “Every-freakin’-where.”
He blanched. “Where is Azazel?”
“In the house. Fighting Kiyoko.” She helped him to his feet. “We’ve got to do something. People are
dying
, Stefan. All over the place.”
dying
, Stefan. All over the place.”
He nodded. “Where is Murdoch?”
“In the bunkhouse, but he’s—”
“Go help him out. I’ll go up to the house.”
Fear shivered through her. The bunkhouse was through the trees. “But I can’t do it on my own.”
“Yes, you can.” His gaze pinned hers, firm and confident, more like the Stefan she knew. “You have the skills, Emily. Use them.”
For the first time, she noticed a funny smell in the trailer, like way-overdone chicken wings. She glanced around. “Where’s Dika?”
“She had to leave for a while,” Stefan said, grabbing a black drawstring bag off the leather couch. “She’ll be back.” Then he was gone, out the front door and into the night.
She stared at the trees.
You have the skills. Use them.
Shit. She could’ve just popped here from the house. She’d run all the way down the path, practically pissing her pants, all for nothing. And she could pop into the bunkhouse just as easily. All she had to do was imagine herself there, fold the fabric of the universe just right, and …
Pop.
Her skin burned as she passed through a barrier spell. She landed smack-dab in the chaos that was the common room and took an elbow in the gut from a Soul Gatherer fighting for his life. Grunting, she dodged out of his way. At least a dozen bone-sappers were preying on the trainees, many of whom were already horrible pools of flesh on the floor.
Murdoch was at the far end of the room, in full-out berserker mode, swinging his sword with blistering speed, battling two sappers at once. Red-faced and pumped with supernatural energy, he had them on the defensive, pressed up against the wall. But their fluid forms allowed them to slip out of his way, avoiding serious injury, and they showed no signs of dying anytime soon.
You have the skills. Use them.
What skills did she have to fight shadowy blobs? Swords weren’t very effective from what she could see, and she didn’t know a freeze spell.
Note to self: learn a freeze spell.
Note to self: learn a freeze spell.
But she did know how to pop.
And she could pop just about anywhere. If she could pop into hell and rescue Carlos, then she sure as heck could pop into the between. Especially since sappers couldn’t hurt her. She was alive.
The
where
of the between was a little fuzzy, but she’d dreamed about the place enough times. Somewhere between hell and the middle plane. As long as she didn’t think too hard about it, she should be able to go there. Now all she had to do was grab one of the suckers. Easier said than done. She eyed the black mucus latched onto a downed Gatherer under the table to her right.
where
of the between was a little fuzzy, but she’d dreamed about the place enough times. Somewhere between hell and the middle plane. As long as she didn’t think too hard about it, she should be able to go there. Now all she had to do was grab one of the suckers. Easier said than done. She eyed the black mucus latched onto a downed Gatherer under the table to her right.
Then stepped within leaping range.
“Come to Emily, you butt-ugly blob.”
Kiyoko squeezed the Temple Veil tightly in her hand and drew every mote of power from it that she could. Then she murmured one of the ancient spells her father had taught her and tossed a frozen-tongue curse. It would stop him from uttering spells. Temporarily. Perhaps long enough for her to cast an endurance charm upon herself. She needed it. She was already weakening, and Azazel had yet to throw his might at her.
She wasn’t sure why.
Perhaps he feared damaging the relic. It couldn’t be the
shikigami
—as effective as their dive bombing was, they did nothing to reduce the power of his spells.
shikigami
—as effective as their dive bombing was, they did nothing to reduce the power of his spells.
Whatever the reason, she was grateful. She couldn’t help but hope that given enough time, Murdoch would come to her aid. Despite Azazel’s claim that he was locked in a building full of sappers, imagining him defeated was impossible.
Azazel recovered his speech and flung a spell of his own, and a violent shudder ran through her. A will sap spell, archaic but very potent. For the barest of moments, before her counterspell took effect, her body was not her own. Her thigh muscles flexed, pushing her to her feet.
The fallen angel smiled.
He dropped the Yoshio charade, and appeared to her in his true form: Huge black wings, bare chest etched with runes, chin-length black hair. Strangely alluring for someone with thick horns protruding from his forehead.
“You are a talented mystic,” he said. “I’m impressed by the spells you’ve cast. Many of them are unknown to me.” He swatted at the air. “But it’s time to stop fighting. Bring me the Veil.”
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