The Darkening (2 page)

Sekhmet's spell died in her throat and she found herself alone in the audience chamber, staring at the spot where her beloved Darius had stood seconds before.

"Darius," she shouted. "I summon you to appear before me." She held her breath and waited, her heart pounding. When he did not appear, she felt an icy fear grip her. His immortal life force had not been properly restored, and he was as close to' being mortal as he'd never been before. It was why Ravenscroft had expelled him.

"Whitley," she called. She knew she had to do something to warn Darius about his vulnerability, and she was hoping her levelheaded priest would help. She paced the floor, considering her options. She couldn't go herself-Re had made sure of that before he lost his powers-but once she explained the situation to Whitley, he might agree to let her send him back in a dream.

She heard the running footsteps of the man who had been her lover for thousands of years. It was ironic that she, a goddess feared by mortals and deities alike, would be afraid of the reaction of this particular man.

She quickly rehearsed what she'd tell him, stopping when she got to the part about the unfinished spell. Whitley, being a man, would not understand a mother's need to protect her child from the lure of sex.

How much of her spell had touched Darius before he vanished? Worse still, what would the ramifications be of the incomplete spell?

"Mistress, are you all right?" Whitley rushed into the room. When he saw she was alone, he dropped the pretense of being a mere priest and came to her, enfolding her in his arms. "What is it, my love?"

"Darius is gone. He broke the orb and was expelled to Earth."

"It's okay," Whitley consoled her. "He must protect the humans."

"No, it's not okay," she told him. "His life essence didn't absorb into his soul as it should have. Instead, it drew on his unique brand of magic and turned into a tattoo. He's lost his immortality, and there's no telling how it may affect the rest of his powers

"And he's just gone to Earth where a powerful evil is waiting for him." Whitley scowled at her, and she bowed her head in shame.

"It's my fault," she said miserably. "I only wanted to protect him."

"Call him back," Whitley ordered.

"I can't-I tried," she replied.

He glared at her. "Then send me back to Earth so I can warn him."

Doing so would make Whitley mortal again, and she couldn't bear to lose both her men. But it warmed her heart to know he was willing to sacrifice his immortality for their son. "There might be another way, if you're willing to help."

"Of course I'll help. What do you need me to do?"

She quickly explained her idea, but when she finished, she found she couldn't look him in the eyes.

Whitley was never one to push, so he remained silent and patiently waited for her to continue. Finally, she took a breath and looked up into his face, genuine tears in her eyes. "There might be one other problem."

CHAPTER ONE

The blaring noise of the alarm roused Lexi Corvin from a deep slumber, and she awoke feeling drugged and irritable. She wanted to rip the offending timepiece from the wall and toss it through the window of her fifth-story apartment, but knew she couldn't afford to keep buying new clocks-or replacing windowpanes. So, instead, with great restraint, she merely slammed her hand down on the snooze button to quiet the obnoxious noise.

Resisting the urge to go back to sleep, she cracked open her eyes and found herself squinting against the bright sunlight slipping through the curtains, giving the room a disgustingly cheery warmth that was at complete odds with her mood.

The week before a full moon was always hard on werewolves. Their animal side grew stronger, and they had an urgent need to foster reproduction. Translated into human terms, it meant she was bitchy
and
horny.

If she had still been living in upstate New York with her pack, she would have simply shifted to wolf form and spent the next week hunting prey and frolicking with the available males. That wasn't really an option anymore, now that she lived in the city. She had bills to pay, food to buy. That took money, and people who took off a week or two each month to be a"wolf" didn't hold jobs very long. She wanted to keep her job. It was the first one she'd had that particularly suited her. Bounty hunter.

Shoving back the covers, she dragged herself out of bed. She took a couple of minutes to stretch, trying to loosen muscles that had become tight and sore after chasing down four skips the day before. Crime in the city was up by staggering numbers, which meant business was good.

She crossed the bedroom and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until she found the news. Lately, it was more depressing than ever. The world--or at least her little corner of the Big Apple-was going to hell in the proverbial handbasket. Just last night there'd been another gang fight in Central Park, leaving five teenagers dead and another three seriously injured. In Murray Hill, a venerable neighborhood filled with old money, a fourteen-year-old boy had gone berserk and shot his parents and younger sister before turning the gun on himself. Down in Soho, a man had stabbed his girlfriend multiple times following an argument
,
killing both her and their unborn child. Plus, five more people were mysteriously missing-making a total of twenty-three in the last four weeks. The police had no more clues now about how the different people were related or what had happened to them than they did after the first disappearances. The number of random street muggings was up, as were the number of rapes, and the police were advising everyone to stay inside after dark-much to the annoyance of the local nightclub owners, who were fighting back by offering nightly specials.

Lexi flipped the station and watched a reporter standing outside the mayor's office giving an update on the rumor that the city officials were debating on calling in the National Guard to patrol the streets both day and night. But NewYork wasn't the only city suffering, and the National Guard was already stretched thin. Lexi shook her head and turned to yet another channel, this time finding a TV evangelist asking his congregation to petition their government for stricter Conversion Laws because he felt the number of vampires in town had dramatically risen in the last six months.

She turned off the TV and walked into the bathroom. Had she really thought that by moving to the city she'd escaped the raw animal violence that came from living with the pack? It seemed she'd only traded it for a new, darker kind of violence-though she couldn't remember it being this bad five years ago. Only recently, as far as she could recall.

She stood in front of the mirror and gazed at her reflection. The light gray eyes staring back at her looked tired. She'd let her friend Heather talk her into going to a special meeting last night. Like Lexi, Heather was a witch, but while Lexi preferred to operate on her own, Heather belonged to a group called the Coven of Light. They had stayed up too late, listening to the members discuss possible strategies for dealing with this dire outbreak of crime. The coven believed the growing problems were the work of a powerful demon, who was upsetting the delicate balance of living magic and death magic.

Lexi didn't know who this all powertul demon was, and frankly, she found it hard to believe the coven's predictions of doom and gloom if the Big Bad wasn't stopped. Like most magical creatures, she'd learned the basic laws of physics at an early age. The world was comprised of two types of magic: living and death. The natural state was for both magics to exist in balance.

The Coven of Light witches were convinced that the Big Bad was somehow going to eradicate all living magic, even if it meant the world would be destroyed as a result.

Weeks ago, Heather had told Lexi about Amber Silverthorne, a witch in Seattle who had an encounter with the Big Bad while investigating the murder of her sister. She'd almost died too, but then some warrior called an Immortal had suddenly appeared to protect her.

At that point in the story Lexi had almost walked out on her friend. Was she supposed to believe the Immortals existed? Please. Demons trying to take over the world? Immortals? Myths and legends. Then again, people once thought werewolves and witches were just stories too.

She picked up a brush and started working the tangles from her long black hair.

Lexi would have dismissed the whole story as nonsense, but Heather had never lied to her, and she could see for herself the death magic increasing in strength.

When the coven found out the demon was being aided by one of the five Immortals, the members decided the only way for it to be stopped would be to hold a Calling and summon the other brothers to help.

Heather had begged Lexi to participate. They needed as much living magic power as possible to make the spell work. Still not one-hundred-percent convinced, Lexi had nevertheless agreed.

To her amazement, the spell had almost worked. She'd caught a brief glimpse of at least one of the other Immortals in her scrying flame. Unfortunately, the spell had also Called the rogue brother, Tain, who appeared on the scene with the Big Bad at his side and helped break the spell before any of the other three Immortals could materialize.

Lexi put the brush down and held up her hands to look at the palms. Fire was her medium for casting spells, and that night of the Calling, she'd had to hold a fireball in her hands for longer than ever before. In the end, all she'd had to show for her effort were firstdegree burns across her palms and fingers. But now, a week later, the only evidence of her participation was a slight pinkish tint to her skin where the burns had healed.

Last night's meeting had shown her that the witches were feeling at a loss as to what to do next. They'd played their ace and lost.

Lexi still wanted to find some way to help, but right now she had some big bads of her own to tackle. Working her waist-length hair into a braid, she secured the end with a hair fastener. When she finished, she pulled off her nightshirt that read "F* * * You and Your Anger Management Class" and pulled on her working uniform of a black leather sleeveless shirt, pants, and Dockers. The outfit was comfortable to work in, but, even more importantly, she knew it made her look tough. A lot of times, taking down a skip was as much about psychology as it was sheer speed and strength.

As she prepared to leave her apartment, she felt the prickle of pent-up magic along her arms. She'd need to visit Ricco soon to help her siphon oft some of it before the buildup of magical energy killed her-not that she'd ever let it get that bad. She smiled at the thought of all the wonderful ways the dark-haired, blue-eyed vampire gang leader had "helped" her before. Ah, Ricco.

Heaving a sigh, she left her apartment. Outside, she discovered a beautiful, clear May morning with just enough of a breeze that in the shade, one could actually catch a chill. She let the sun warm her and took in the bustling neighborhood. Hell's Kitchen in the morning was a place unlike any other.

She walked along the sidewalk, listening to the chatter of people on their cell phones as they hurried about their business. The smell of fresh-baked breads and pastries mingled with gas fumes from passing cars. Over the din of traffic, she heard the distant blare of a cruise ship's horn as it pulled out of dock. At the corner, she waited for the traffic light to change before crossing to the other side, where she stopped at her favorite kolache shop to grab a bite to eat. By the time she reached the office of Blackwell Bail Bonds, she was in a better mood.

"Morning, Marge," she greeted the secretary at the front desk. Then she crossed her arms across her chest and gave the petite older woman a reproving glare. "I thought you were going to quit?"

"I quit last night, honey," Marge said in her deep, gravelly voice. She took another drag off the remaining half-inch of her cigarette. "It worked so well, I might try it again tonight."

Lexi shook her head. "Those things'll kill you, you know."

"Yeah, well, at my age, there's not much point in giving up something I enjoy." She exhaled a puff of smoke and coughed a couple of times. "what's going on with you? You look like shit this morning."

"Late night," Lexi said evasively, not bothering to elaborate when Marge raised her eyebrows. She wasn't sure Marge would believe her if she told her some superdemon was trying to destroy the world. "Who are we going after today?" she asked, pulling the top case file from her in-box. She was hoping for a difficult rundown, or maybe someone who would resist arrest so she'd have an excuse to rough them up just a little. Such things were frowned upon, but she would relish a bit of a fight just to work off her frustration--sexual and otherwise.

She opened the file and read over the case. "You're kidding me, right?" She waved the file in the air. "This is a fucking fairy. I'm not going after him."

Marge tsk'd at her in disapproval. "Such language."

Lexi tossed the file back in her box and cocked her head in apology. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. I'm not going after that fucking
leprechaun."
She looked at the other in-box and plucked out the top file resting there. "What kind of skips does TJ have?"

TJ was the other bounty hunter at Blackwell. He was a year or two older than she was and six feet of pure muscle. Behind that muscle was a keen intellect, which made him deadly for a human. Despite her werewolf abilities, Jonathan Blackwell still typically assigned the tougher cases to TJ.

She opened the file. "Maurice Gonzales. Charges of spousal abuse. Seven priors. Substance abuser." She glanced at Marge over the top of the file. "I'm taking this one."

"Lexi, you know the rules. Jonathan assigns the cases, and he specifically gave that one to Ti."

"It's not fair," Lexi said. "The leprechaun's a lush. He's probably passed out somewhere. He'll be easy to find, and he's so tiny that TJ can carry him in a backpack."

"If you don't like the cases you're assigned, you'll need to take it up with Jonathan." Marge's scratchy voice was firm as she stood up and came around the desk. Taking the file from Lexi, she set it back in TJ's box. "All I know is that I put it in TJ's box. Now, if you'll excuse me."