Bound by Light (56 page)

Then a lurch in her gut, like stepping through a normal projective mirror, only magnified by a hundred. Maybe a thousand.

Sibyl battle cries rang in the void, and her skin tingled, and—

Her feet touched solid, foggy ground. So cold, so dark, and totally familiar now.

Káto Ólimbos.

A wide expanse of the mountain, from what she could make out in the gray, misty light—about the size of the area in Central Park where they had been fighting.

Jake thumped to the same ground beside her with a grunt, doubled over, and she pulled him upright and held him against her with one arm. Blood streaked his cheeks, face, and neck, and he looked twice as pale now. Probably wiped from the transport.

Water came crashing down in a great tidal surge around them, then every drop evaporated, leaving only the darkness and fog and rocks—and the Mothers, and the Sibyls, and Andy, in a wide circle around the demon, much as they had been at the lake.

The Leviathan’s one eye was wide now, furious red light pouring from its empty socket and one of its ears, too. Its muscles strained. Its scales rippled.

But it absolutely could not move against its elemental bindings, which seemed twice as powerful now that they had come to this ancient mountain.

Merilee held back an urge to spit on the damned thing.

Andy didn’t.

"Uh, are we on time?" Jake asked in a soft voice.

Merilee’s internal clock felt haywire, but best she could tell, they were down to about forty-five minutes and change, provided she hadn’t gotten too off in her count while she wasn’t conscious. "No sweat," she whispered back. "We’re early."

Jake’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t have time to speak, because the air was really starting to stink, even worse than the rotten-water stench of the demon. Merilee glanced to her right and left, noting Andy’s grim expression and the firm set of Mother Anemone’s jaw. The rest of the Sibyls and Mothers remained completely focused on containing the ancient demon.

Shadows oozed out of the rising mist in front of the demon’s head, between the Leviathan and where Merilee stood next to Jake. Tall, almost skeletal forms solidified, wearing stained red robes, their matted black hair covering their pale faces. Ten Keres came forward, their torn wings shedding black feathers as they walked.

One death spirit separated from the others and approached Merilee until she stood only an arm’s length away.

"Nosi," Merilee said, and the spirit inclined its head in greeting.

Merilee’s eyes and lungs burned from the stench of rotten meat, but she forced herself to keep a neutral expression—unlike Andy, who was holding her nose.

Mother Anemone spoke next. "We are not here to offer ourselves as suicides. We only assist our sister Sibyl, who has come to pay her blood price. Respectfully, we request that you honor the spirit of our visit."

Merilee’s blood turned to ice as she realized that every Sibyl on Káto Ólimbos was technically in violation of the ancient treaty, and could be taken as forfeit. Jake’s low snarl suggested that he realized exactly the same thing—and he wouldn’t be allowing any treaty terms but their own to be fulfilled this night.

Her fingers flexed and her pulse raced as she considered reaching for her bow, but Andy coughed and let go of her nose. "What the nice lady means is, if you pull any shit, we’ll fight our way off this mountain—and we’ll turn this big ugly bastard of a lizard loose, too. Clear enough?"

Mother Anemone went stiff, but Mother Keara, Mother Yana, and Bela laughed outright.

Merilee found herself smiling, too.

She couldn’t see Nosi’s face for the hair, just the fangs, but she was pretty sure the death spirit was amused.

No weakness.

They like courage—at least they’re consistent. And really, not so different from us.

Nosi glanced toward Andy. In her strange, eerie voice, she said, "You will be a friend to us, water Sibyl. For you"—she shifted her hidden gaze back to Merilee—"and for you, we will help your people to depart in peace."

Relief surged through Merilee. She wasn’t sure if there were any formal words she was supposed to recite to complete the bargain, but Nosi turned away before Merilee could ask.

"Release the Leviathan," the death spirit commanded. "Its elemental energy cannot escape our bindings, even in its death throes."

Merilee knew what was coming next.

"Cover your ears!" she shouted as the Mothers and Sibyls turned the demon loose—and several dozen more death spirits popped out of thin air, filling the space between the warriors and the Leviathan.

Even as Merilee slammed her palms against her ears and stretched on her toes to press an elbow against the ear Jake couldn’t cover because of his bad arm, the keening cries of the Keres tried to rip apart Merilee’s eardrums.

But that was nothing—
nothing
—to what the death spirits did to the demon with their fangs and claws.

The creature might as well have had fur instead of scales, and its size and roars didn’t matter one damned bit. It never even got off a good swipe of its barbed tail.

Merilee’s stomach clenched, but she didn’t look away from the destruction of the creature who had created the Legion and caused the death of countless members of the Dark Crescent Sisterhood.

None of the Sibyls averted their eyes.

Justice was justice, no matter how bloody.

Merilee felt the vibration in the elbow she had against Jake’s ear as he hissed his approval.

Seconds later, the demon fell under the onslaught of blows and slashes and unnaturally powerful bursts of elemental energy. The thing never stood a chance against creatures who could wield magic and strength even older and more powerful than its own—and yet, when the Keres finished with it, Merilee could have sworn it was still breathing. She lowered her hands from her ears and moved her elbow away from Jake’s head. Her heart rate picked up, and her fingers once more ached to grab her bow and ready an arrow.

"Fucker’s still alive," Jake said, and Merilee heard the rising violence in his tone. Bum arm or not, he would take on the thing all over again if he had to.

Nosi once more emerged from the pack of her fellow Keres, who kept the Leviathan’s heaving form pinned to the dark, rocky mountain.

The death spirit drifted straight toward Andy and offered her gore-flecked hand.

Andy took hold of Nosi’s fingers without flinching, and the death spirit led her to the head of the Leviathan.

Merilee’s heart squeezed at the sight of Andy so close to the beast without her elemental energy in full swing, but when Andy reached the thing’s big red eye, she took out her HKP-11 and leveled it right at the glowing center.

"This is for Sal, you asshole," she said, and fired all four darts directly into the Leviathan’s brain.

The mountain groaned and shuddered, pitching Merilee against Jake.

As she righted herself, she sensed a detonation of elemental energy more powerful than any nuclear warhead, but the air and the fog and the mountain absorbed it before it touched any living creature.

The beast twitched once, then went still.

Andy lowered her dart pistol and a satisfied expression spread across her face.

Closure.

Merilee could almost see it happening as Andy holstered the pistol, then raised her face to the fog-laced stars above and let out a long, piercing howl of mingled rage and pain and triumph.

The Keres screamed so loud in response that Merilee almost fainted.

Her body lurched.

She slammed against Jake, had time to feel his good arm circle around her, and then a powerful wave of elemental energy grabbed hold of them.

They were moving again.

Sailing away from the mountain.

Away from the death spirits.

Racing through time and space and nothingness, so fast her brain felt like it was turning inside out.

Seconds later, they jerked to a complete stop and settled into totally solid, totally normal form.

After a few blinks and deep breaths, Merilee realized they were back in Central Park, standing along the edge of the lake. All of them, Sibyls and Mothers alike.

When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw that the whole area was still deserted except for the newly returned Sibyls and Mothers, and totally torn to hell. Trees lay in piles of splinters. Rocks and dirt were strewn in piles through huge patches of torn-up and burned grass, and daggers and swords and guns and arrows littered the ground.

There were probably emergency vehicles and all kinds of personnel ringing the park, but no fucking way were they going to approach before the OCU told them it was clear—and most of the OCU was out of commission, wherever the Astaroths had taken them for medical attention.

It’s over.

Thank Hecate, it’s over.

She let out a breath and savored the sight of the returned Sibyls and Mothers, and drank in the sensation of Jake alive and whole next to her.

They were safe now.

She let his spicy scent fill her nose, cleanse her senses—but when she turned to face him, his pale skin and his broken expression sent tremors of worry all through her.

"Jake?" she whispered as she reached for him, but he was fading away.

Her mouth came open. Her breath stopped. She grabbed for his shoulders with both hands, but caught only air. He was nothing but a ghostly image now.

"Don’t you leave me!" she screamed, her mind and heart tearing apart at every seam and joint.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice and body breaking up like a bad radio signal. "I love you."

"No!" Merilee wrapped both hands around his talisman, and she saw him shimmer brighter from her touch.

"Like a feather on my soul," he whispered, and he smiled.

"Jake Lowell," she yelled, letting every bit of her wind power her voice as she squeezed the chain and ring so tightly it dug deep in her skin. "I
order
you not to die!"

(42)

"At least there’s some justice in the world." Merilee put down the copy of the
Post,
knocking two discarded chip bags to the floor. The headline announced Martin Jensen’s arrest for conspiracy in the murder of Derek Holston, and a bunch of other shady crap related to the late, not-so-great "Bartholomew August" and the Leviathan’s defunct, dispersed Legion cult. Apparently Max Moses, facing a major bunch of trials himself and a string of potential life sentences, had ratted out on every person he had ever seen do business with August.

After attending Sal Freeman’s memorial, four Sibyl funerals, and nine services for OCU officers—and after seeing the damage to the Sibyls and other women who were so horribly misused—Merilee wanted every ass-hole involved with August to pay as dearly as possible, Jensen included. "I hope that sneaky bastard spends the rest of his life playing butt-monkey to some huge convict named Bubba."

"Oh, come on." Cynda slugged back her espresso as Merilee slid the paper across the table to Riana, who was busy looking at the chip bag mess near Merilee like it was killing her not to pick it up. "Tell us what you
really
feel, Merilee."

Merilee tried to ignore that comment, because she didn’t need to talk about her real feelings, not unless she wanted to sob for days. "I’m just glad the media’s moved on from all the paranormal hysteria—and that they never got around to finding out about us or the Leviathan."

"Earthquake. In Central Park." Cynda shook her head. "I so can’t believe the public was so eager to chew up that bunch of bullshit. I guess nobody noticed the big horned skyscraper demon from hell—that, or people believe what they need to believe to get them by."

Merilee blinked, then stared down at the table.

She knew Cynda didn’t mean anything by what she said, but it still struck a little too close to home.

Riana glanced at the paper, then seemed to notice Merilee’s silence. She moved her steaming mug of evening coffee to one side, leaned across the kitchen table, and rested her palm on Merilee’s wrist. Her dark eyes reflected caring and hope, but it was her frown that gave away how much she was worried. "Darian promised Jake will come back, honey. All the Astaroths have told you the same thing—it’s
fine
to believe that."

Merilee inhaled the rich scent of her French roast and tried not to cry for the millionth time. She felt her triad sister’s gentle gift of earth energy flow into her veins—and Cynda’s not-so-gentle singe of fire against her right hip.

"Ow!" Merilee patted out the flame on her jeans and glared at Cynda. "Way to be understanding. Bitch."

"Sorry." Cynda gripped her espresso cup with one hand and stared at her other smoking hand like it belonged to somebody else. The circles under her eyes made her look like a freckled raccoon—with steam coming out its ears. "I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in over a month. Shit gets away from me."