Dark Forsaken (The Devil's Assistant Book 3) (8 page)

Chapter 10

“You can’t leave her here,” Raal’s voice broke into the darkness. “I won’t be responsible for her.”

“She’ll—” Ronin said.

“Screw you, man. She’s the fucking Fall Queen and you brought her here—with
his
blood. Fuck me, I’m a dead man.”

“She isn’t going to do anything to you or this shop. She’s going to wake up with a bitch of a headache and leave.”

Ronin was right: my head was pounding. I stepped outside of my body.

Raal was pacing, nervously running his hands over his bald pate. “What, after she levels Underworld?”

Ronin stood there with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. His phone buzzed and he checked the time. “I have to go. And quit worrying about the lass going supernova, she knows how to handle it.

Raal barked out a laugh. “No one knows how to handle that kind of power. I can feel it building.”

The energy at my core wasn’t as bright as it had been last summer, but I could see it twisting and turning back in on itself—contained, as I’d trained my body last summer—so I wasn’t sure what Raal was sensing. The vines he tattooed on my skin pulsed with life. As I watched, a tiny sliver of energy rippled through the design. A second later, another sliver snaked its way up my arm. Tracing the pulse back to my hands, it appeared that the blood coating my nails was somehow being absorbed into my palms.

That couldn’t be good.

At least the vines weren’t visible to the naked eye. Of course, that didn’t mean the big three wouldn’t see the power as it coiled within. With a force of will, I mentally tried to dampen the power. I was stronger than I’d been in weeks, but I didn’t want anyone else to sense the change. There had to be a way to hide it.

“Oh fuck,” Raal said, backing away. “That bitch is about to wake up—I can feel it. You’ve screwed me, Hunter. I’m taking this to the big man. I should have told him weeks ago what X’s boys have been up to. I won’t be responsible for this shit.”

A red flash ran across Ronin’s aura. His eyes went glassy and he lunged forward without hesitation. Raal didn’t have time to react before Ronin snapped his neck. Dumbfounded, I stood in the in-between with my mouth agape. Before I could open my eyes to confront Ronin, he disappeared, leaving Raal’s dead body to crumple to the floor.

My eyes shot open and my presence returned to my body. I stared into the shocked, lifeless gaze of the man who’d just spiked me with Harry’s blood, the man whose neck was now bent at an impossible angle.

“Shit,” I cursed.

Getting to my feet, heart racing, I quickly put distance between me and Raal’s body. I couldn’t sense any life, although considering he was threatening to go see the big man, which was probably Harry, I wasn’t sure I would have healed him if I could.

I took a few calming breaths to settle down, then dropped to my knees as if someone was pulling the new power out from under me. I blinked and the visible overlay that let me see energy, thresholds, and magical wards blazed bright. Raal’s body was glowing as the tattoos on his skin flared to life. I watched in horror as the vines on my arms began to bleed into a stream of energy that creeped back toward Raal. The flow of power reawakened the vines on Raal’s skin as they had originally appeared before he transferred them to me, as if the power was returning to the source now that Raal was dead.

I wondered if this was because of proximity or if anyone he’d ever done this to would be feeling the pull. As I considered this, a thin trail of energy snaked in from under the door, answering my question. His base magic was somehow pulling everything back to him.

The power at my core rippled, fighting the drain. The slivers of energy that I’d appeared to absorb earlier from Raal’s own blood were pulsing toward the brightness at the center of my being. I couldn’t let any of the power go or I’d never be able to take Ronin to see Leland Kane—not to mention that I’d most likely never get another sample of Harry’s blood to try this again, and the weak Fall Queen that I’d become would die easily at the hands of the next contender.

Remembering the way my body had reacted the first time Mab juiced me—before I had any control—and seeing how Raal’s magic seemed to want to join mine, I let loose the reigns, hoping this wasn’t the biggest mistake of all time, and pulled hard on all the power around me.

Just like it had in the museum last summer, my newly powerful presence wanted everything, but unlike the museum, which had power oozing from its pores, the only source of power here was the dead man in front of me. Instantly, the flow of power out of me reversed: the vine tattoo that had been manifesting on Raal’s skin drained away and returned to me.

But it didn’t stop there.

All the tattoos on his arms started fading. The first to go was the mermaid he’d been putting on Frankie when we arrived. There was power in every one of the marks, power so faint in some that they wouldn’t have been noticed individually, but together, the stream of energy blossomed into an electric charge so strong that it almost knocked me on my butt. My sight saw the final flow of power as it trickled in through the door, through Raal’s body, and onto my skin—putting the ghost image of each tattoo in place as it had been on his form. I was lit up like the illustrated man at the carnival and glowing so bright I must have looked like a pure ball of white light to anyone that could see it.

Raal’s body sunk in on itself as the final spark of his magic left, and he disintegrated into dust before my eyes. My core roiled with hunger at the loss.

I. Wanted. More.

A pulse from within beckoned to the world around me. It instinctively pulled on every source of magic in the vicinity and I didn’t want to stop it—so it was maybe a good thing that someone clocked me on the back of the head.

~#~

It had been a while since I woke up in unfamiliar surroundings, but if I wasn’t mistaken, this place had the smell of druids all over it—and pickled olives in a stale, dusty atmosphere that made me want to sneeze.

The power at my core roiled, wanting me to pull in more energy, but thankfully my ability to loop it back on itself was keeping it at bay.

I thought back to everything that had happened at the shop with Raal. I wasn’t completely sure why Ronin felt the need to kill him, but something about how it happened and that odd red aura just didn’t feel right. Then he disappeared, I was hit on the back of the head, and I was brought here—wherever here was. It had to be connected, but why would he help me and then set me up? Plus, if I were dead or captured, how would I be able to repay the favor I owed him?

Without opening my eyes, I stepped outside my body. Even though the smell of pickled olives was prevalent, I wasn’t in the storeroom of a restaurant this time. I’d been left in an office off the main floor of a large warehouse. The big room, which I could see through large windows overlooking the main floor, was about the size of a football field. The ceilings stretched up half that height in the industrial structure, showing exposed metal beams and concrete columns. I popped around the interior. There was a large rolling door at the far end, with enough clearance for an eighteen-wheeler to pass through. Three truck beds were parked off to the side, with one truck cab waiting to be hitched. At least fifteen people were working and a few others were milling around. The workers—all druids—were loading pallets of merchandise onto each truck. Were these guys connected to the mob? Were they Johnny’s boys? If so, maybe Ronin wasn’t the reason I was here. Frankie could have come back with some of his crew to teach Raal a lesson and found me instead. I needed more information about where I was.

As I’d done before in the fourth realm, I imagined my presence going up through the top of the warehouse, high enough to look down on the area like a map. Unlike a regular map, there were no markings other than the brown dots of druids. The warehouse itself was perched on a high cliff jutting out over the Silver Sea, which meant the large rolling door didn’t lead to land. It had to be a portal, but to where?

I pulled my presence farther into the stratosphere, looking down on a much larger area, but again, only druids. I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I realized the truth.

I was in Paradise.

Chapter 11

As I surveyed the land, I caught sight of a tiny glow of green in the distance. I willed my presence to investigate. Zipping along the lush vibrant countryside, I finally found the enclave of green dots. Fallen descendants—or those who had chosen to change their allegiance to the fourth realm—were quarantined there. The quaint cottages, a small village of them, were surrounded by a military-style blockade. There was only one way in and out: through an armed checkpoint.

I was beginning to understand why my power wasn’t growing stronger. Harry—if he knew about this—wasn’t letting them leave. Mab was probably killing hers. I didn’t know how The Boss was justifying it, but I suspected none of the newly fallen still within their old realms were being allowed to return to Fallen.

I opened my eyes, returning to my body in the warehouse, and stood. I considered searching the office, but knowing who brought me here wasn’t going to solve my other problems. If it was the mob, then I wouldn’t learn anything new. There was most likely a standing order to grab me and the crew got lucky. If it wasn’t them, then I’d just have to deal with it later. The office was fully visible through the large glass windows to the main floor. If I stayed, I’d just get spotted by one of the workers. I had to leave now before any of them knew I was awake. I closed my eyes and thought of the enclave. I snapped a line and materialized within the woods outside the checkpoint.

I’d been aiming for inside the enclave, so I was surprised it hadn’t worked. I tried again, but couldn’t get past the barrier. Blinking my eyes, I looked at the area with my second sight. The magical wards glowed a bright purple, with waves of yellow running through the design as if it were electrified or always changing.

Being careful to remain hidden from the guardsmen at the checkpoint, I approached the shield. Pushing my hand forward, I tried to touch the surface of the barrier. I’d had the ability last summer to destroy Kane’s prison, which trapped him in the meadow, but this bubble was different. I could see the magic of the wards flex as my hand approached. I continued to push until the length of my arm should have been inside the enclosure, but the magic of the shield had stretched around it.

The tattoos wrapping my arm ignited and the hunger for power within me flared. I imagined myself walking forward and having the purple glow encase me completely, and then using my new ability to drain it dry.

My hand warmed and the tulip glowed so bright it hurt, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. The magic literally tasted bitter and I wanted to spit it out. Was this its attempt to resist being consumed? I pulled my arm back and tamped down the hunger, but it was far from quelled. I focused on cycling the energy back in on itself to regain control.

Noise from the guard shack startled me, breaking my concentration. Energy crackled around each wrist and lapped out at the enclosure. Streaks of black rippled through the shield before I could rein it in.

“Over here,” one of the guards yelled.

I closed my eyes and thought of the fourth realm. Staying here and possibly getting caught wouldn’t solve the Fallen refugee issue in Paradise. I needed to know what was going on in my realm. Omar might offer some advice on fixing this mess, or at least suggest a way to save the trapped descendants. I thought of the beach where I’d landed the first time I’d entered the fourth realm, but just as it had when I tried with Ronin, nothing happened. I thought of the house Omar had taken me to when I almost died, but I sensed no line form. I focused on Omar, someone I should have had a strong connection to, but nothing happened. Even with Harry’s blood, I couldn’t get to the fourth realm.

The voices of the guards were getting closer. Trying one last time, I thought of home. It was a long shot, and I assumed I’d end up in my NYC address if not the fourth realm, but the line that snapped into place wasn’t my apartment in New York.

My home, the one in my heart, was currently holed up in Mab’s castle. The cold stone fortress sent a shiver down my spine. Of course, it didn’t help that Thanos’s gaze was staring lovingly into the eyes of another. I gasped, causing him to look up. For a brief moment I saw something—joy or pain, I wasn’t sure—then my heart fell as he laughed.

A young voice lazily spoke from the other side of the room. “What causes this outburst, Brother?”

My head turned to find a girl draped disrespectfully across the arms of Mab’s throne. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail and her lean legs were sheathed in black leather pants so perfectly fitted they looked molded on. A tight, body-hugging white t-shirt, contoured leather jacket, and custom riding boots completed the look.

She raised her head to see what Thanos was up to. I gasped again as our eyes met. It was the biker version of Sydney, only one that might actually be able to kick my ass if she was Mab’s untouchable as Ronin said.

“Faith,” Thanos drawled. “Do tell mother I tire of her games. I have much more tasty morsels to play with now.”

Faith Dragon, Enforcer, Sophia Mazie Grant, and Sydney’s twin curled her lip in a wicked sneer and mouthed, “Game on.” The knowing gleam in her eye as she licked her perfectly glossed lips sent a new shiver down my spine.

I glanced back at Thanos, who was nuzzling the neck of the
tasty morsel
in his arms. I staggered back as if I’d been slapped. The pain was too much to take. He hadn’t forgotten me—he’d simply moved on.

Hellfire coalesced in my palms and power dripped from my fingers. Part of me didn’t want to control the surge anymore. He didn’t love me. Faith cackled with laughter and my anger began to consume me.

Mab’s voice broke the silence. Drifting in from the foyer, she said, “Thanos, your last trollop is simpering out here. Take out your trash before I am forced to handle it.”

I closed my eyes. Dealing with Mab wasn’t on my list, so I snapped a line to my apartment and blinked away.

Tears ran down my cheeks at Thanos’s betrayal. He didn’t need saving. He didn’t love me and he hadn’t kept his promise. I fell against the office wall, sliding down until my ass hit the floor. Thanos had been with another girl and he’d literally had another in the wings. He’d dismissed me without a second glance.

Hellfire danced around my wrists. The energy roiling at my core wanted more power—and I had no desire to stop it.

Through my tear-stained vision, I caught the trickle of amber light as it wound its way in through the windows and doors. I pulled the magic to me. The stream of power increased as more lines merged to feed my hunger. I let it come, welcoming it in to feed my damaged soul.

A loud crash sounded outside on the street. I blinked to the window, looking out on the city around me. A woman’s scream pierced the quiet, horns honked, sirens blared, and guns fired as one by one streetlights winked out in the twilight and buildings went dark.

The pull continued, drawing more and more of the power from the surrounding area. Cars stopped dead in the streets and everything was eerily quiet.

Darth Vader’s Imperial March started playing from my pocket, breaking my concentration and stopping the flow of power.

Conrad Bosh was calling.

Taking a deep breath and stretching out my neck to ease the tension caused by pulling so much juice, I retrieved my phone.

“What?”

There was a momentary pause, before he spoke. “Claire. Is something wrong?”

I wasn’t sure what pissed me off more: the fact that The Boss interrupted my power grab or that in the entire five years I’d worked for him, he never once asked me if anything was wrong. So why the fuck did he care now?

“No,” I responded, my voice coming out in a dull monotone. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m getting reports of a disturbance near your apartment. Transformers have blown and a portal near your building became visible to humans just before it blinked out of existence. There was also a similar occurrence downtown earlier. A virtual dead zone now exists. Thoughts?”

“Shit happens,” I said. Then, I hung up.

Switching the phone to silent, I tossed it on my desk. I made my way mindlessly to the dark kitchen. I drank half the carton of milk, ate all of the leftover pizza cold, and had just started on the peanut butter when a knock sounded at the door.

My first thought was that maybe I shouldn’t have hung up on The Boss, but then I sensed the names of the one outside, and it wasn’t The Boss or Quaid, his right-hand man and general lackey, untouchable, whatever. Turning to face the door, I realized the entire apartment was barely visible in the twilight of early evening, just like it had been on the street outside. I was curious how my phone had survived the drain. A second knock focused my attention back on my unexpected visitor, the bitch queen’s untouchable, Faith.