Blood of an Ancient (21 page)

I put on my sweats and one of his T-shirts, and sat on the edge of the bed holding the little packet of marjoram. If I left it, I could sleep. If I didn’t, I could see Nikolos again.

I looked at Phro. “Not one word.”

Hell, it wasn’t a choice. I tossed the marjoram and crawled under the covers. Groaning because of my still-sore rib, I turned onto my back and thought about another motel room when Nikolos’s body had lain heavily on mine. I wished we’d been able to really make love, in a real bed like the one in his home. We hadn’t had enough time together. And this last time…a sob caught in my throat. I hated thinking about it.

“I miss you,” I whispered into the darkened room. I pulled our ankhs out from under my T-shirt, clasped them in my palm and hoped I’d get to see him one last time. I honestly had a bad feeling about this concert tonight.

This time, I shouldn’t have tried so hard.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the dirt-and-stone pit and Nikolos was chained to the wall. I ran across the room and ducked down to look into his face because his body was slumped—he sort of dangled from the chains by his wrists. He wasn’t awake, so I wrapped my hands around the chains and pulled. Either I didn’t have my extra strength in this world, or those were spelled into the wall, because they didn’t budge.

“Hey, can you hear me?” I touched his face, then snatched my hand back when he growled.

Red eyes looked at me as if I were the one jailing him. He snarled and pulled on his chains. I backed away from him, my heart shredding over the red streaks on his body. He was no longer thin and he looked…bigger. Thick muscles roped his arms, shoulders and thighs. He stopped making noise and stood, breathing hard, staring at me.

“Do you know who I am?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer. Snarls came out of his mouth and he tried to run at me, but the chains held him away. He pulled against them, straining so hard veins popped out in his neck and blood began to run in streams down his arms.

“Stop. Please stop.” I stayed out of reach, but stretched my arms to touch his face. For a second or two, he watched me, even nuzzled my hand, then the snarls and growls started again. Without warning, he lifted his leg and kicked me. Hard. In the stomach. I stumbled backward and kept going until my spine hit the wall.

Was his humanity gone then? For good? The wave of grief that washed over me, so heavy and thick, made me drop to my knees. I clenched my hands in the dirt floor, trying to anchor myself to the world like I did at home, but here it didn’t work. Heat seeped into my fingers and I stood up, my gaze falling on the gate.

The open gate.

Nikolos was chained to a wall, so whoever had him was apparently not worried about him escaping. I walked to the gate and winced when the metal creaked as I pushed it further open. The narrow corridor was so dark—it was either night in this world or we were far underground.

By my third step, I wished I’d worn shoes to bed. Sharp rocks dug into the soles of my feet and I was pretty sure I hit every one on my way up. Murky, gray light filtered in near the top. I hadn’t really expected the second gate at the top to be open, but it was. Trying to see out of it before moving it had my heart pounding so hard it hurt. I reached for my knives, then realized I hadn’t worn them to bed either. Sometimes I’m just not that bright.

Sighing, I swallowed back the terror weighing down my legs and slowly pushed the door open. My relief over the empty hallway had me leaning against a stone wall. It looked like we were in a castle dungeon, complete with jagged rock walls and another set of wider stairs at the end of the long hall. Four other black gates were set into the walls. I walked to the first, but it was locked, as were the second and third. The fourth was slightly open. I peered down the stairs. Like Nikolos’s cell, this one had two gates—one on either end of a narrow staircase.

I’m not sure I could describe the level of terror I felt in that moment. Do I risk this long black stairwell or do I turn and go back to the snarling, almost nonhuman love of my life and try to get through to him again? I still didn’t know the time constraints of this place.

But I could grab the ankhs when I was ready to leave.

I had to see what was down there.

The loud screech of the metal gate made me wince, so I only pushed it open enough to squeeze through. I bit back a scream when my bare foot landed on another sharp rock. This time, I felt the warm wetness of blood on my next step. Great. Phro had freaked about me bleeding here before. This time I would leave blood in footprints.

When I got to the bottom, I realized the gate here was locked and as I looked through the metal slats, I didn’t know why. The giant stretched wall-to-wall against the opposite side of the dungeon was so obviously dead I gagged and covered my mouth. He’d been beaten so badly, the arm I could see was bent at the wrong angle. His hand, palm up, was three times the size of my head. Dried blood caked his entire body and had turned his tunic the color of old mud. One blind white eye faced me. The other had been plucked from his head.

I turned away and hurried back up the stairs, not caring about the wound on my foot. When I got to the top, I heard someone coming down the hall. I plastered my back to the stone wall, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t see me, but desperate to see the kind of creature I’d be up against. Whoever it was stopped, just out of sight, and I waited, holding my own breath because the sound of its own was spine-scrapingly loud.

Deep, but strangely feminine laughter sounded.

I remembered what Nikolos had said about being spotted, and even though it felt like I was ripping my own heart out, I clenched my hands around the ankhs and let myself go home.

Chapter Eleven

I blinked into the room to find everyone standing around gaping at the motel bed.

“You just appeared,” Castor said.

I struggled to sit up and not show them how much it hurt. My throat felt scraped raw, my stomach ached where he’d kicked me. But everything, every single ache and burn, was overshadowed by my desperate need to get Nikolos out of that hell dimension. I started to tell them what happened, then bit my tongue. This dark fear laced with fury raged through my veins, scalding and painful. I stared at each person in the room, all looking back at me with concern, and knew I couldn’t share this.

Because I wasn’t going to wait until we got back to Nikolos’s house to have them do the spell that ripped into the hell dimension.

I was going tonight.

Dooby was here to call the elemental. Blythe was here to bind it and if we freed the other witches, I knew they could help. Castor and Elsa would take care of my body.

Phro eyed me from the corner of the room, her expression worried, as if she knew what I was thinking. I schooled my own and took in their costumes. “Wow. You guys look great!”

Blythe had been built for this style dress. The yellow and crimson displayed her curves to advantage, the colors a complement to her creamy skin and soft, blonde hair. Castor and Dooby could have walked off a movie set in soft, buttery-beige pants and frilly shirts. Castor had a forest-green velvet doublet over his. The shirt Dooby wore probably came from his own closet.

Elsa, like me, wasn’t much of a skirt wearer. She had on something similar to the guys, her pants in a soft blue, her poet’s shirt in black. She’d pulled her hair into a tight bun and fit a black Viking skullcap over it. She held up my outfit. “You’d better hurry. I came in to wake you up early. If we want to get to Sophie before the concert, we should leave in fifteen minutes.”

I scrambled out from under the covers, grabbed the costume and ran into the bathroom, hoping my foot wouldn’t leave any bloody footprints if I moved fast. I checked it first—didn’t look too bad. I did wash my foot with soap and water in the bathtub.

Looking at the outfit, I realized I wouldn’t be able to keep the T-shirt on underneath for warmth. The neckline wouldn’t be right. So I pulled the tunic top over my head, surprised when it fit my body like a glove. The hood covered most of my head, so I just left my hair down. The long pants slid on easily and they were so soft I played with the idea of just wearing these from now on. I smoothed everything down, opened the door and headed to the mirror, thinking black eyeliner would make this look rock. I stopped, stunned when I saw my reflection.

“Castor and I hid the book in a safe place so we can both go.” Dooby walked up behind me. “Holy shit. I know you can’t see it, but your ass looks fantastic in those pants. The bottom of that top opens enough to play peek-a-boo. I like. I like so much.”

I frowned at him, but secretly admitted I loved this thing. “I’m going to be warmer than all of you.”

“True. But it’s a pretty nice night. Temperature is up in the fifties.”

Now that was good news. I brushed my teeth, applied eyeliner, a little lip gloss, then pulled down the hood to run a brush through my hair. I decided to go ahead and tie my hair back at my nape. That way it wouldn’t get in my face. I set the brush down, stared into the mirror and ignored the thousand butterflies in my stomach as I sneaked the last thing out of my bag. The cigar I’d purchased at the gift shop. I slid it into my bra. This was it. When we stepped outside the motel room, I hummed, calling the bees. The moon was full, providing them light, but some still flew in a sluggish pattern.

“Dammit, Beri!” Elsa jumped into her SUV and slammed the door.

Grinning, I called more. I was hoping Fenris would hear. Or follow the trail of flying food. He did. He fluttered around my head, clucking his tongue. “Now this is how you should always dress.”

“You know, Fenris, I’d agree if it didn’t mean I’d be blending even less. Can’t have that in my line of work, you know.”

His wings beat fast. I could hear the tiny drum sound, the speed of air being kicked up around him.

“Want to come with us and see what’s damaging the forests? It’s possible you can hide under my hood.” Don’t know why I asked. He had to come to give us blood.

“I can keep to the trees.”

Blythe tapped me on the shoulder. “We don’t have earplugs that would fit him. What about the music?”

His little spine snapped straight, his shoulders went back. “I am immune to another’s thrall.”

“Are you sure about that?” I asked. He was so small, one tug on his life energy from that lilin would probably be all it took.

He merely scowled and flew into the vehicle.

People were already gathered when we arrived, which wasn’t all that surprising since so many had set up tents along the opposite side of the road. Luckily, the concert flyer had had that map or we would have never found the place. Blythe had pulled up the exact spot on the Internet earlier and we’d discovered the land belonged to a farmer. From the aerial photos, it looked like he farmed part of the property while the back was left to grow wild. There were acres of old trees and a clearing, perfect for a concert.

As soon as we drove onto the farmer’s land, the magic crept under my skin like an invisible hand trying to fillet me. Shuddering, I rubbed my arms. “Feel that, Blythe?” I twisted in my seat to look at her.

She nodded, her eyebrows together with worry. “This is different. It’s dark, really dark.”

“It’s not just dark,” Dooby said. “No mere farmer owns this land. He’s one of my kind and from the feel to the air, he’s been doing bad, bad things to the earth.”

I snapped my mouth closed because I could taste this magic. Bitter, acrid, the only description I could think to explain it was death. It tasted of long-dead things here. It took effort to hold back a gag.

Elsa turned her big car around. “I spotted RVs. Nice ones. I’m going to park a little ways from those, but on the other side of the trees. So hold on, we’re going off-road.”

She turned the wheel and I immediately braced my arms on the dashboard because deep ruts in the ground jostled the SUV like crazy. There was a
thump
and swearing in the back. I glanced over my shoulder to find my brother rubbing the side of his head. He hadn’t cut his hair for this and it fell in beautiful copper waves past his shoulders.

My sister laughed and pushed her foot down on the gas. “I was wondering how this baby would do.”

I spotted a small group of people behind one of the RVs. “Hey, you’re attracting attention.”

“Far as they know, we’re fans having a joy ride before the concert.”

“Elsa, most of their fans are emaciated and tired.”

“Oh yeah.” She slowed, but her bottom lip poked out a bit.

Chuckling, I eyed the group who had stopped paying attention to us. They stood in a circle, holding hands.
Goddess
, everything about these concerts screamed cult.
I hated cults.
Had actually tracked down a bugbear in one once that had been hired to scare the children on the compound into compliance. He hadn’t merely crawled out from under beds or jumped out of closets either. The cult leader had locked misbehaving children in a dark room with the bugbear. Bugbears had lungs that sounded like they were full of gravel and they smelled like the inside of a dirty barn, but the worst was their penchant for biting. The memory of that still made barbed anger unfurl inside me. I’d stuffed the cult leader’s pockets with raw meat and locked him in the room with the creature.