The Devil You Know (18 page)

One night,
Josephine Fera thought, shaking her head.
Why couldn’t Cate Delacy stay out of trouble for one bloody night?

Even now, Jacq, Fera, and the vamps were battling for their lives. Over and over, Marco and his people zoomed downward, crashing through the trees, quickly moving around the pines only to circle back as the otherworldly, half-man, half-bat demons took to the skies before dropping into a new location. It was the strangest battle plan Fera had ever seen, but it worked well enough to confuse them. They continuously lost track of the monsters. There would be two, their large black wings flapping, silhouetted against the white clouds, then three, then two again. Even the Kin became lost, losing count of each other until they each sounded off into their communicators.

Using the earpieces Marco had provided, Fera and Jacq leapt from tree to tree, following the others. She was grateful that they’d seen Gemini Roskov on her way back to the car. Marco had posted his injured vampire, Bon, as guard at the fight’s outer edge, but one of the demons might still manage to double back.

Marco was also thinking about Gemini Roskov when he zoomed down through the trees, pursuing one of the black demons. Branches snapped loudly in the distance as his Kin did the same, following the other two downward into the wood. He had nearly reached the tiring demon when the silver-skinned fighter—
Jacqueline
, he put a name to the face he had first seen in a Council file—leapt down from a high limb onto its winged back. With both hands on her silver runed sword’s hilt, Jacqueline brought the weapon down ahead of her, spearing the beast between the shoulder blades. Its body disintegrated into fiery ashes that were lifted up and carried away by the wind. The silver-skinned Jacqueline fell through the black cloud that had only seconds before been one of their enemies.

Marco swooped down to catch her but she disappeared in a flash of silver, appearing again much farther away, this time hanging in midair in front of a demon. Her face blazed with an intensity that made Marco glad she was not his enemy…in that moment. Then she took the demon’s head with a long sweep of her sword, turning its body into a black cloud of ashes that blew past her, carried by the dead demon’s unstoppable momentum. For a second, she hung there, glowing brightly in the black haze. Then, with a flash, she was gone again.

Marco heard a cry and looked up, spotting the last demon above. Its back was turned to him, legs kicking as it struggled with someone, wings flapping wildly as it tried to hold up itself and its captive. The winged beast twisted, turning to face him, and Marco hesitated. The demon’s arms were locked tightly around none other than Gemini Roskov. The damphyre held a pink glowing baton between her hands, but with her arms pinned to her sides, her efforts to swing the weapon at her attacker’s head did little more than bang and bloody her own shoulders. The demon, head reared back, had long canines poised to rip out Gemini’s throat—a wound even a half-blood could not survive. Marco flew upward, enlisting every ounce of speed he could. Two of his Kin, converging from opposite directions, did the same.

They would not be quick enough.

From the treetops, a green bolo of magic flew, growing as it spun faster and faster. He glimpsed the Fae Sheriff, Fera, sword tucked into her belt, standing on a limb, holding a young sapling’s thin top with one hand, even as a finger on the other spun directing her spell. Just as the bolo reached the two, she thrust her arm out, closing her fist sharply. The weighted green cord of magic spun around the demon’s wings, drawing them tight around its own arms and Gemini’s body, pinning the black beast as it had pinned its victim. The green magic surged upward, covering the screeching demon’s face before he could sink his fangs into the damphyre’s throat.

Fera jerked her hand back. With the movement, the demon’s body jerked. A green cord appeared, turning the bolo into a lasso. The roped demon and Gemini swung downward, their weight pulling the cord tight as they fell. They swung out and down, like a pendulum. Fera strained to hold their combined weight with one hand. The vampires changed course, moving to aid her. But even as they did, the young tree bent under its burden, slowly lowering her and her captives to the ground, where Jacq waited, her eyes flashing with a bloodlust Marco knew all too well.

From her position within the tree, Fera saw Marco turn and zoom away. Once the demon and Gemini were on the ground, Fera jumped from the tree. It snapped back to its full height with a quiet whoosh as she tapped her earpiece, asking Marco where he was going.

There was no answer.

* * *

Was I dead?
I hung in a black haze, the lack of oxygen making my mind wander where it shouldn’t.

“Look at me, witch!” Ramus roughly shook my neck, bringing me to my senses. I wanted to keep my eyes closed, to deny him the pleasure of my fear, but couldn’t. He squeezed my throat tighter then eased back. I gulped a breath of much needed air, its relief almost as sweet as feeling his body pull back from mine. Oxygen-filled blood rushed into hungry veins, waking numb nerves, and my eyes flew open in pain. I met the demon’s gaze, immensely confused by the obsessive interest lurking therein.

“I can taste your power,” Ramus hissed, “and it has granted you a reprieve…from a
quick
death.” His voice lowered, his cold breath barely brushing my ear. “I don’t know how this can be, but my kind’s ancient blood runs through your veins alongside that of the pitiful Vanguard’s mongrel kind. You could be one of us one day. You could be a Mistress of the Moon—the first in a very long time. And believe me, it would be a most pleasurable role.”

Ramus laughed with maniacal glee, and his grip around my waist returned. He moved, pushing slightly against me, and I shivered, as much with the sensation as the breeze blowing cool against my legs, letting me know my dress was now above my knees.

His lips moved against my ear, bringing my attention back to his words. “So I want you to see, witch.” He squeezed my throat again, cutting my breath off, lifting my chin until my eyes met his in the mirrored ward. “See what you will become.”

The words were so low I almost thought they were my imagination. But as his black magic again headed for my mouth and his fingers pried into the hinges of my jaw, forcing my lips open, I knew I hadn’t imagined them because he added, “See what I will help make you.”

Then his thick black magic was at my lips, rushing down my throat, gagging me, burning like black ice as it pushed into my body. My back bowed in pain, throwing my head back, rigid muscles somehow fighting his grip to do so. I looked at the star-studded, cloudy night and silently screamed. My demon-half echoed the sound, her loud roar reverberating in my head as she blasted fire up my throat and through my eyes, lighting the night sky with three blazing pillars of fire.

The fire stopped and I coughed, gasping as Ramus’s grip again loosened. My throat felt as if it had been scraped with razor blades, making it impossible to respond as he said, “Good, you’re strong. That will make it all the more fun when I do this over…and over…again.”

My eyes widened as black magic, this time a larger dose, was stuffed down my throat. Again, my beast rose up, bowing my body backward, slicing through the dark magic with fire. As the fire stopped, I stared unseeing at the clouds, barely noticing the deep choking breaths my body was taking. Ramus was mistaken, thinking his sadism had found a new pet. Yes, I was strong…or had been before I’d had my skull cracked, my brain fried, and given the majority of my magic to save Van. I had been strong. Now I was simply tired.
So tired.

My eyes drifted shut and no amount of shaking on Ramus’s part could force them open. My demon-half roared, ramming the walls of her cage, trying to escape and gain control, her need to survive overriding her common sense. But her efforts were weak and her jail held. She collapsed, dazed. I felt her consciousness slip back into the shadows.

My mind began to do the same, my demon-half’s lethargy becoming my own. My body went limp, causing my toes to barely touch the ground. The contact wasn’t much, but it was enough. Beneath my bare feet, the earth shuddered as another witch worked a spell close by. Magic rippled against my skin, rousing me, reminding me of my second source of magic. I forced my eyes open long enough to see Cassie’s barrier flicker again. Cassie had turned to the Earth Mother, and She had protected her. With my fire all but extinguished, I must do the same.

My eyes closed and my body sagged, this time intentionally, forcing the grip around my throat to keep me up. My feet were now almost flat to the ground, and I sought the raw healing power hiding just beneath its surface. Even as lights began to burst and my eyes bulged from lack of oxygen, Ramus lowered my body further, easing his grip around my throat until I could take a quick rattling breath.

“How disappointing,” I heard him distantly say. “We’ll have to finish this now. Mustn’t have you dying on me.” His hand at my waist left but not before tucking my dress into the edge of my panties, exposing everything below my waist. Any relief I felt at that brief respite from his touch was lost as his hand moved behind me, brushing my buttocks as he loosened the ties on his own pants.

Without his grip on my waist, my body hung straighter, flopping downward. My feet made full contact with the ground, and I felt it shudder again, a powerful blast of magic running through the earth. The sensation of another witch’s magic, like sunshine against my skin, and the rush of much needed oxygen woke me from my stupor. I began to struggle again, kicking backward, bruising my bare heels on his shins, scraping his wrist with my nails. Still, I kept my eyes closed, refusing to let the demon see my fear. My urge to fight, to live, had returned.

But it was no use.

Ramus again pressed his fingers into my jaw, painfully forcing my gasping mouth to stay open. The threat was unspoken but I understood. He would break the bone if I refused. Still, I tried to lock my teeth tightly together, but my body betrayed me. Cold black magic moved under my chin, heading for my open lips. Its frigid chill made me shudder fiercely. At the same time, his feet kicked my legs apart, using icy strands of black magic to keep them that way. Shocked, my body stilled. I wanted to fight, would fight, but I was suddenly lost.

How could I battle something such as this?

Cold magic hovered a breath from my open mouth, wavering back and forth like a black-headed cobra, readying to invade my body possibly for the last time. I felt Ramus’s fingers trace the edge of my thong and gagged, bile rising in my throat. I forced it down, knowing if I vomited in this position I would asphyxiate. I couldn’t bear it. I opened my eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t have, because the truth, the pure joy, I saw in Ramus’s gaze was horrific. It was bad enough moments before when I’d thought Ramus planned to kill me. Now, I
knew
. He planned to rape me—body, mind, and soul—then leave me alive to deal with the consequences.

Ramus hissed in my ear, “Yes, see witch. Open your eyes. See what you will become.”

I almost refused his command, almost closed my eyes again to block from sight what I could never block from my mind. But there was something new in the air—another, much stronger ripple of magic, one I didn’t need to touch the ground to feel. That magic made me keep my gaze open and locked ahead. Cassie’s barrier thinned, revealing the pale-eyed witch holding a large gun only inches from my face. My eyes widened, knowing from her stony expression what was coming. Ramus knew too, because he released me, reaching for Cassie.

I dropped like a stone, stumbling forward into the green ward. Just as my head was about to go through the magical wall, I glimpsed in the mirror a dark shadow dart from the woods. Then I was crashing through Cassie’s shield. Her magic roared through me with a burning backwash, and I had no time to wonder if the shadow was friend or foe. I hit the hard ground just as a loud gunshot tore through the night. Cold darkness spread over me and I forgot to worry.

* * *

A high-pitched whine whistled through the air, making Kathryn, Helena, and Gwendolyn jump. All had been lost in thought, which was easy to do when the conversation was sparse and the night long. The house was still and quiet, but it was an eerie silence. All knew that just beyond the walls of their safe haven a great battle raged. And further distant, thunder rolled and lightning lit the night sky. A storm was coming. The battle and the thunder were only trumpeters, heralding what was yet to come. And all wondered what damage, what casualties, they might find when the night was done and the storm past.

The teakettle whistled again, and Kathryn moved as if to stand. The two guardians rushed to stop her.

“No,” said Helena, the one who looked so much like her son’s long-gone lover. “You’re the guest.”

Kathryn nodded. She was surprisingly comfortable here in this small kitchen with these two strangers, but at the same time she was uneasy. It wasn’t merely the unseen, unheard fight occurring so near that worried her. She sensed one of her children was in trouble. The feeling was like a tight heavy ache binding her heart. Almost as heavy was the knowledge that nothing could be done, at least not by her. She had given her word that she would stay within the witches’ protection. And a Queen was only as good as her word. So stay she did, though she regretted the rash promise. And with good reason.

Kathryn had felt the same sensation the day her daughter Draya and her two sons, Filo and Trayton, were killed. The day that began a centuries-long war of retribution. That war may have ended, but the consequences of it—of her mistake—would never end.

A cool hand patted Kathryn’s and she shook herself from her thoughts, looking into Gwendolyn’s faded green gaze. Kathryn wanted to disregard the sympathy and comfort in the gray-haired guardian’s eyes but could not. The ache in her chest lessened slightly.

Gwendolyn squeezed her hand, saying reassuringly, “The past will not repeat itself. We will not allow it. Cate will not allow it. You’ll find our granddaughter a stronger, more resourceful ally than any of us—” Shaking her head, she corrected herself. “—any of us but Evie anticipated.”