Bind the Soul (28 page)

“I’ll tell you how we got away,” she said, “if you tell me exactly how the Sahar works.”

He tensed a tiny bit.

“You know the trick to using it, don’t you?” she pressed. “You were so sure I couldn’t use it. You must know something about how it works.”

“
No
one knows how it works.”

She smiled. “Liiiiiaaarr,” she chimed in a singsong voice.

Lyre snickered into his soup.

Shadows slid across Miysis’s eyes. He didn’t look amused. “My family has been guarding the Sahar’s secrets for five centuries. I’m not about to share them.”

“Fine. You can leave then.”

Miysis’s expression went even colder. His words came out in a low, melodic croon. “You will tell me how you escaped with the Sahar or I will force you to tell me.”

She froze under his black stare, caught in its power—almost as powerful as Samael’s. Terror slid through her on a wave of memories filled with the Hades Warlord’s crushing gaze.

“Brave words,” Ash said into the silence. His voice slid under Piper’s skin, banishing the memories of Samael. “Very brave words for a daemon in a dampening collar.”

Miysis’s lips curled in a soundless snarl as his attention turned to Ash, who looked back with black eyes, all signs of exhaustion erased from his posture.

“Samael kidnapped me because I can use the Sahar,” she said. “But I don’t know how I’m doing it or why. I need to know.”

Miysis’s jaw clenched as he considered her. He glanced around the room and lifted a hand in a sharp gesture. Magic raced through the air like an electric charge. The atmosphere popped like a vacuum seal releasing.

Ash’s eyebrows rose. “Sealing the room? I see you’re finding ways around that collar.”

Miysis stretched a hand toward Piper. “I will tell you nothing unless you agree to be bound to silence.”

She nodded, taking his hand. Magic raced up her arm, making her gasp. Miysis did the same to Ash, Lyre, and Seiya. The draconian girl gave the Ra a long, hard stare before taking his hand.

Miysis leaned back in his chair, surveying them before he spoke.

“Five hundred years ago, my ancestor Maahes created the Sahar, but he didn’t do it alone.” He exhaled. “His collaborator was Nyrtaroth.”

Piper’s mouth fell open.

“Nyrtaroth?” Lyre blurted. “
The
Nyrtaroth? As in the last warlord of the draconians?”

Miysis nodded tightly. “Maahes and Nyrtaroth created the Sahar together. They were both extremely skilled in magic, but neither could have done it alone.”

Nyrtaroth was infamous for inciting the Taroths’ final war with the family. With a five-hundred-year-old reputation as a merciless leader and murderer, Nyrtaroth hadn’t struck Piper as the intellectual type. She would never have guessed that he’d been involved in the Sahar’s creation. Creating such a complex magical object would have required shrewd creativity and genius-level intelligence.

“Maahes’s intent,” Miysis continued, “was to create a power that would keep the Hades family in check. Nyrtaroth seemed to share his philosophy, though his later actions suggest he had more active intentions for the Stone.”

“What do you mean?” Piper asked.

Ash pushed his empty bowl away. “Nyrtaroth used the Sahar to level an entire town in a single attack, killing 500 people.”

Miysis’s stare snapped to Ash. “How do you know that?”

“Why wouldn’t I know the reason the Hades family destroyed my people?”

“You aren’t a Taroth, whatever your name is,” Miysis said flatly. “The Taroths are extinct. It’s a documented fact that the bloodline has died out.”

Ash shrugged. “What everyone likes to forget is that though the Taroths may be gone, draconians are not. We haven’t forgotten our history.”

Piper rubbed a hand over her face. She already knew the Stone had been used to destroy an entire town, but she’d had no idea Nyrtaroth had been the one to wield it. Her history books only referenced Nyrtaroth committing a terrible crime against the Hades family but not what the crime had been.

“Why did he do it?” she asked.

“Most of the Hades family was in that town,” Miysis said. “Nyrtaroth decided the best way to make sure he killed them was to kill everyone.”

Ash turned to Piper, his somber stare meeting hers. “Or maybe he too had difficulty controlling the Sahar,” he murmured for her ears only.

Piper tensed. Had that attack not only been the first recorded use of the Sahar, but the first time Nyrtaroth had used the Stone? Had he, like Piper, not known about the vicious bloodlust that filled the Stone and infected its user? That would mean Nyrtaroth hadn’t meant to destroy the town; the whole Taroth family had died because of one miscalculation.

Miysis interrupted her thoughts. “Overworld and Underworld daemons can’t work closely together. Maahes and Nyrtaroth knew what a rare thing it was for them to collaborate in concord. So they made
that
the Sahar’s safeguard.”

“What do you mean?” Ash asked.

“The Sahar can be used by anyone, but it can only be
triggered
by two daemons working in harmony: an Overworld daemon and an Underworld daemon. Unless it’s first triggered, no one can commune with it.”

Piper’s head spun with understanding.

Lyre whistled. “So neither you nor Ash can use it alone, but together you can?”

“No.” Miysis regarded Ash with disdain. “The two daemons must have a harmonious relationship. That’s why the safeguard is so effective. Even if you know the secret, the chances of creating the proper circumstances are extremely slim.”

“So it takes two to open the Sahar,” Ash said. “Then what?”

“The Stone’s power migrates to the dominant of the two daemons.” Miysis’s face hardened. “That’s why Nyrtaroth wielded the Sahar instead of Maahes.”

He sounded distinctly offended by the idea.

Ash turned to Piper. She stared at him. So when she and Ash had both been touching the Sahar, the power had shifted to him because he was the dominant one. Made sense. But the question was whether the power had transferred to Ash because she was “in harmony” with him, or because she, not being two physically separate daemons, could transfer the power to anyone who touched the Stone while she was communing with it.

“I don’t get it,” Ash told her. “But it looks like you do.”

“Both my parents are haemons,” she explained. “I inherited magic genes from both of them. I should have died but a healer sealed away my magic when I was a child.”

Comprehension lit his eyes. “So you must have an Underworld bloodline and an Overworld one.”

She nodded. “Seems like it.”

“Yes,” Miysis breathed. “That would explain it perfectly. You are probably the only hybrid haemon in the world. Female children born from two haemons always die in childhood.”

“Wow, Piper,” Lyre said. “You’re one of a kind.”

She shrugged, grimacing. She’d rather be a normal haemon with nice, normal magic.

“Samael knows you can use the Sahar but not why.” Miysis frowned. “He couldn’t possibly have guessed the truth without knowing your history, and even then . . .”

He trailed off and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. It buzzed loudly with an incoming call. He flipped it open.

“Yes?” A pause. “What?” he barked. “Wait. I’m coming.”

He snapped the phone shut and stood. “A scout just arrived from the Underworld with a report. I will be back for your account of your escape later.”

The air popped as he released his spell against eavesdroppers. Before Piper could even reply, he marched out of the kitchen. She blinked at the empty doorway.

“Well, that was interesting,” Lyre said, stretching in his seat. He jumped up energetically and grabbed Ash’s arm. Ash barely had a chance to look surprised before Lyre hauled the draconian out of his chair. Ash staggered gracelessly and Lyre pulled his arm over his shoulders. “Come on, mate. Let’s get you into a shower before you fall asleep. And don’t tell me you can skip the shower. You need it.”

Ash huffed but didn’t argue as Lyre steered him toward the door.

“You can go clean up too,” Piper told Seiya. “There are four bathrooms upstairs. Take your pick.”

“Upstairs?” Seiya repeated, familiar with the no-daemons-upstairs rule of Consulates.

Piper glanced pointedly in the direction of the meeting room. “I think the upper level will be a little safer.”

Seiya nodded and left the kitchen, leaving Piper by herself. She sighed and began tidying up, thinking over what Miysis had revealed. Exhaustion dragged at her as she piled the bowls in the sink. Though a hot shower and her warm bed beckoned, there was one other thing on her mind—a nagging worry that had been growing stronger for days. Sleep could wait awhile longer.

She headed out of the kitchen and, pausing to kick off the too-small hiking boots, padded toward the other end of the manor. Across the hall from the Head Consul’s office was a large library of neatly shelved books. Piper closed the door quietly behind her and sighed again as she surveyed the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling shelves.

When the door to the library opened again, she’d been sitting at the table in the center of the room for nearly an hour. A stack of books sat beside her. She looked up from the index of the heavy volume in front of her.

Lyre strolled into the room, inexplicably soaked but cheerful.

“Here you are,” he said. “Been looking all over. I thought it was a little soon for Miysis to have snatched you.”

She stifled a yawn. “Did you get Ash tucked in?”

“Yep.” He flashed a grin. “He finally ran out of steam and half passed out in the shower, but I got him sorted out and into bed. Uh, your bed, actually.”

She blinked. “My bed?”

He leaned one hip on the table and smiled sheepishly. “Seiya said you said to stay upstairs but there are only four furnished rooms upstairs: Your father’s, which I wasn’t touching. Your uncle’s, which Seiya took since he’s not here right now. One guest room, which I’ve been using. And then your room.”

“Why didn’t you give Ash
your
room?” she asked pointedly.

“Because,” he said, smile shifting into something wickedly sultry, “I’d much rather share a bed with you than Ash.”

She watched the gold in his eyes shift to a shadowy bronze, then turned back to her book.

“That’s too bad,” she said casually. “Now, when I lock you out of your room so I can sleep, you’ll have to camp out on the sofa.”

He was silent. She looked up to find him studying her with narrowed eyes far too close to black.

“What?” she asked sharply, not liking the way he was looking at her, like a wolf watching a rabbit.

He smiled, the sense of danger vanishing.

“Whatchya reading?” He leaned over for a look. “
The Encyclopedia of Preternatural
? Sounds like ideal bedtime reading but I wouldn’t’ve thought you’d need any help falling asleep.”

She sighed and closed the book. “I’m trying to find out what a Blood Kiss is. Unless you know?”

“Ummmm.” He frowned a little. “Sounds familiar but can’t say I know what it is. A hint?”

“I don’t have a hint,” she grumped. “Makes it hard to look up. I don’t know if it’s a spell or a military maneuver or a plant or a cocktail. Damn it,” she added with a frustrated growl. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead, kneading gently. Her head was splitting.

“Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it can’t.” Micah had told her to find out what Blood Kiss was before going after Ash. That suggested some kind of time limit—unless he had just been messing with her, like usual.

“Piper,” Lyre crooned persuasively, stepping closer to her chair. “Come on. You need sleep.”

“I have to find—”

He reached out and traced his fingertips across her cheek. When she felt tingles run across her skin, she slapped his hand away.

A slow, satisfied smile made him look dangerous. “Too late,” he purred.

Whatever spell he’d used was already in motion. Her eyelids drooped as fatigue took hold. She tried to stifle a yawn.

“You jerk,” she mumbled.

He pulled her chair back and knelt in front of her. She tried to glare but found herself slumping forward. He pulled her against him, hooked his arms under her backside, and stood. She wrinkled her nose at the dampness of his clothes but pillowed her cheek on his shoulder anyway. He carried her out of the room in a sort of reverse piggyback ride. A piggyfront ride?

“I have to find out what a Blood Kiss is,” she told him, attempting to sound firm. Instead, she sounded drunk and slurry. “I won’t be able to sleep until I do.”

“I’ll look it up while you sleep,” he soothed. “If it’s something horrible, I’ll wake you up. Otherwise, it’ll be waiting for you in the morning.”

She thought about it as he climbed the stairs. “I s’pose that’s okay,” she conceded.

He stopped in front of her bedroom door and set her on her feet. He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. She sighed. Finally, a hug. She’d been waiting for a hug since she’d walked through the Consulate doors. Tears unexpectedly welled as memories of the last few days surfaced.