As he repeated the incantation over and over, I began to sing the counterpoint. “Walking death, wandering spirits, whispering souls, hear our command. Return to grave, shroud of death, whispering souls, you shall not stand.”
The energy built slowly but steadily, a wreath of violet fire that circled around us. I watched as it circled us, a network of pulses sparking like synapses in the brain. Morio and I kept up the counterpoint and the bubble of energy expanded out. The zombies were almost to the outer border of the circle when the closest gave a shriek as it reached out to pass through the twinkling lights. Within seconds, it fell to the ground and rotted away like a time lapse photo, the final ooze from the body soaking into the ground.
One down, a half dozen to go. Another zombie shuffled up and through the border and within seconds had turned into mere memory. The others paused. While they were soulless, almost automatons, they had some spark of self-preservation built into the magical code that brought them to life.
As they hesitated, Wilbur let out a grunt and a rolling wave of light crested over the zombies. With a unified shriek, they vanished, incinerated in whatever mother of a spell he’d cast. Morio and I stared at him, our own spell dropping as our concentration broke. What the fuck had he just done? More important, could we learn to do that?
He winked at us, then turned back to the fight that was going on between the others. The demons were down a man. And . . . oh Great Mother, help us, so were we. Chase was on the ground and he looked unconscious. Wrapped in the magic, I hadn’t even heard the scuffle.
I scanned for Delilah. She was slashing away at one of the Tregart demons, screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. I leapt forward, racing toward Chase, and dropped at his side. He looked pale, and blood covered the side of his shirt. Morio joined me and I waved him away.
“Go help them. Send me Roz.”
Rozurial was by my side in seconds. He frowned when he saw Chase, then pulled out a bottle of something and splashed it over the wound site, through Chase’s shirt. “We need something to bind him with,” he said, fumbling in his pocket for a tin of the salve he carried everywhere.
I looked up at Wilbur. “Your shirt. I need your shirt.”
Wilbur shrugged and ripped it off, handing it to me. I tore it in tiny strips, trying to ignore the sounds of battle raging around me. We had to save Chase—had to get him medical attention. Roz and I bound the strips around him, after Roz slathered a handful of salve over the wound. I struggled to turn Chase long enough to get the material beneath him so we could tie it tight. He was heavy, and when I moved him, the wound began to bleed again.
“Cripes, what the hell are we going to do? We can’t get him to our cars from here.” I frantically looked around. “His breathing is so shallow. What are we going to do?”
Roz leapt up and raced over to Smoky, where he was fighting one of the demons. He’d almost finished the guy off and now Roz pushed him my way and took his place. Smoky hurried over.
“What? What do you need? Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “We have to get Chase to the FH-CSI headquarters. He’s been hurt, and hurt badly. I don’t think Delilah knows yet.”
“It’s hard to focus in there. Those brutes are so tough it’s amazing we can take them down at all. Here, I’ll take him through the Ionyc Sea and then return to help you out.” Smoky gathered Chase in his arms and—before I could say a word—vanished.
I wanted a moment to regroup but there wasn’t time. There were still . . . oh hell, still five of the bikers standing and they were driving everyone back. Delilah looked like she’d been wounded, and I saw blood on Trillian’s cheek, and blood spatters on Vanzir. Iris came rushing up.
“We have to do something,” I said to her. “It appears these demons have skin like leather. I don’t know what to do. If we retreat, they’ll just try again!”
She nodded, her lips firmly set together. “I swore to myself I’d never use this again, but . . . we have no choice. I’ll take care of it,” she said softly, tears forming in her eyes.
I was about to ask just what she was planning, when she yelled out, “Fall back. Now!”
Everyone in our party heard her—her voice echoed through the yard like she was using a megaphone. And then, she closed her eyes and I heard her whisper, “For Henry . . .” and a whirlwind of energy rose around her, a vortex of blue and white mist, and she pushed it forward with a terrible cry.
The wall of energy rolled over the demons and piercing shrieks echoed from their midst. I couldn’t see what was happening, and then, as the energy began to vanish, I could see. Iris had fainted and as I knelt by her side, I looked up at the yard.
“Oh, Iris . . .” I fell silent, staring at the chaos. The Tregarts had been turned inside out. They were so much muscle and bone and raw, pulsating flesh. Without a word, I turned to the side and vomited.
“Iris . . .” Delilah dropped her dagger to her side. She looked around. “Is anybody else hurt? Chase? Chase?” A frantic light came into her eyes and she whirled around. “Where’s Chase?”
“Smoky took him to see Sharah. He’s been wounded, Kitten. He’s still alive, but he needs medical care.” I didn’t dare tell her how badly he was hurt. We needed her in one piece—and not a kitten.
Her lower lip began to tremble, but she didn’t go any further because at that moment, Iris groggily came to. As we helped her to her feet, there was a shout from the door. There stood a man—or at least, at first glimpse it was a man.
Vanzir jumped up, striding forward. He looked furious. “Trytian, what the fuck are you doing here, you bastard?”
Trytian! We were right. It was the daemon’s son. I forced myself to march up beside Vanzir.
“Where is she? Where’s the Bonecrusher?” I knew I sounded slightly hysterical but couldn’t help myself. My emotions were riding high.
Trytian, who looked a little like Keanu Reeves in an eerie, hellish way, gave me an insolent smile. “Gone. Our guards bought her time enough to evacuate. We’re moving operations.”
I leapt forward. “She murdered my friend and destroyed my shop!” As I brought one hand around, hard, to slap him on the cheek, Vanzir stopped me, catching my wrist. He nodded for me to move back. He spoke in low tones to the daemon, who at first shook his head and then, with a shrug, nodded.
Trytian stepped forward. “Listen, we want the same thing. Shadow Wing—dead. The Bonecrusher wanted your help. My father and I wanted your help. You prefer to work from another angle. I’ll make you a promise—and Vanzir will vouch for me. If you leave the Bonecrusher alone, don’t hunt for her, don’t try to find her, she’ll leave you and your friends alone. But make no mistake: We mean to find the seals and when we do, we’re marching on Shadow Wing.”
“What makes you think I won’t let the information leak that she’s a traitor?” I hated his smug smile, his arrogant stance. He had helped kill Henry. I knew it; in my gut I knew he was one of the men in the shop.
As I stepped forward, Vanzir grabbed me around the waist.
Trillian let out a shout, but Vanzir called over his shoulder, “Don’t move. Don’t even think about it.”
He laughed roughly. “Oh, Camille, I not only know it, I’d guarantee it to a bookie. You’re a sure bet. Because you know, in your heart, that you aren’t prepared to fight Shadow Wing. And you know my father and Stacia can take him on and have a chance of winning. I know you’ll still be looking for the seals, but I warn you: Don’t get in our way. Because if you cross our path again, you’ll lose more than a broken-down old man. You’ll lose everything.”
I broke out of Vanzir’s hold then, rushing forward. I grappled with Trytian. He clearly wasn’t expecting my attack but managed to grab my wrists and rolled me over as he held me down, straddling me.
“You’re lucky you have friends here right now, woman. I may be out for Shadow Wing’s blood, but I’m still a daemon, and some things are just too tempting to resist.” His whisper was too low for anyone else to hear; he snorted. Then he let go and jumped up.
“We’ll find you! We’ll search the house and find something you overlooked.” Oh, to land a good kick to his balls, but I had the feeling it wouldn’t hurt him in the least.
“Go ahead—in fact, I expect it of you. You’re so obvious.”
Morio lunged forward, but Trytian danced back out of his reach. “Youkai, leave this alone. It’s none of your business. And the rest of you, remember what I said. You won’t get a second warning. Stacia will put off Shadow Wing’s orders to kill you long enough for us to make our move, but only if you don’t interfere. Stick your noses in our business, unless you want to turncoat, and you’re so much burnt toast.”
He turned to Vanzir. “My debt to you is over . . . this more than pays you off.” And with that, he vanished as if he’d never been standing there.
CHAPTER 24
I mutely stared at the empty place on the porch. Just then, Rodney came shambling out of the house. Morio moved up beside me, and Trillian flanked my other side.
“What’s going on in there?” Morio said.
The flame in Rodney’s eye sockets flared. “Not much. They scrammed but fast. Bitches didn’t even take all of their zombies. A few bone-walkers in there, too. But—what the hell is that?” He cocked his skull, as if he was listening to something.
I frowned. There was a low humming coming from inside the house. It reminded me of the whine of a jet engine. And then, instinct guiding me, I shouted, “Get the fuck out of here—run toward the trees!”
Nobody questioned me; they all just turned tail.
We all managed to reach the tree line before there was a low rumble and then a loud explosion. The shock wave blasted us forward, but we were out of range of the flames that shot up. I hit the ground hard, landing on my knees and hands.
As I gasped, choking on the smoke, Vanzir muttered, “Cocksucker . . . he meant for us to be there when that happened.”
Delilah coughed and struggled to her feet, then helped me up. “But he said—”
“Forget what he said. Forget what I ever suggested about working with him. He’s a daemon. He was trying to kill us to make sure we don’t interfere. My guess is that they decided to shift their headquarters. They must have found out we were coming and planned this little booby trap.”
“How? How did they find out?” The house was engulfed in flames and the sound of sirens echoed in the distance.
“I dunno. I think we have a leak somewhere,” he said slowly. “Somebody . . . someone told them. Who did you tell about this?”
“It could be any number of people. Chase’s FH-CSI officers knew we were coming, Nerissa knew . . . who else?” Something tickled at the back of my mind but I couldn’t wrap my thoughts around it; I was so shaken.
“Then we have a lot of thinking to do.” Morio motioned toward the ravine. “Come on, let’s get out of here before the cops arrive.”
Delilah let out a low sob. “Chase—I need to know how Chase is.”
“Yeah, and Iris . . .” I glanced at the Talon-haltija, who was staring at the flames, her mouth pinched. Her expression was one of haunting and pain. It was then that I understood that she hadn’t realized what she was going to do—or that she had even been sure she could still cast that spell. Too close to her memories of her fiancé for comfort.
“Come on. Let’s go,” I whispered, wrapping my arm around her shoulders as we headed back into the trees. “We aren’t going to wrap this one up tonight, guys.”
As we slipped under the cover of the rain-drenched leaves, I wondered just what the hell we were going to do now. We had an informant somewhere—it was the only way to explain that they knew we were coming. We had the Fae Queens on our back from both realms. And I knew that Stacia wouldn’t hesitate to come after us once she realized we’d survived the explosion.
I had no idea what we were going to do about any of it, but I knew one thing for sure: We’d find the Bonecrusher, and when we did, we’d rip her to shreds.
We arrived at the FH-CSI headquarters, soaked through and covered with mud and ash. Sharah was waiting for us. Delilah moved forward, her face a blank slate. Menolly and I flanked her sides.
“Chase . . .” Her voice was faint, her back rigid.
Sharah stared at her for a moment, then slowly said, “He’s in critical condition. I don’t know if he’ll make it. We’re doing everything we can.”
“No . . . no . . .” Delilah wavered and Menolly pressed her hand against her back, steadying her. “There has to be something you can do to help.”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to breathe, not wanting to speak. I knew the answer, but dreaded being the one to suggest it. But if it might help . . .
“I know what might heal his wounds. But it could destroy him in the long run,” I blurted out. Enough heartache for one night. If it could save him now, we’d deal with the future later.
“What is it? We can’t lose Chase. I can’t lose him!” Delilah grabbed me by the shoulders. “Tell me!”
I sucked in a deep breath. “You were going to have him drink the nectar of life. The potion will also heal extreme injuries. Without the proper rituals, it might also drive him mad in the long run, but it will save his life now.” Turning to Sharah, I asked, “Does he stand a chance otherwise?”
“There’s always a chance . . . but the odds are low . . .” Her voice trailed off and I saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes.