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Authors: L. A. Banks

BOOK: Conquer the Dark
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“The energy creates a portal? But how is this dark?” Asmodeus said, beginning to pace.

Rahab threw her head back and cackled and pointed at Celeste. “
She
is the dark portal, where dark energy came in.”

“She’s a Remnant,” Forcas said in a flat tone, studying his manicure. “Get serious. This one didn’t break.”

“The
pharaoh
broke, making his house or his palace—chose your words, it doesn’t matter—unholy ground.” Rahab crossed her arms and smiled. “He espoused freedom and had
nine slaves
… in that house, on that mall, in that power grid of Light where the founding fathers prepared to go to war over freedom. On December fifteenth, 2010, they even put a memorial for the nine there because it was a dark secret and finally people found out
and demanded justice, posthumous.” She looked at Forcas with triumph blazing in her eyes. “I
did
my research. I
read
the newspapers—internationally. I
scour
the Internet looking for portals. Don’t
ever
doubt me in the research department.”

She then returned her attention to Asmodeus. “All around that mall area, slaves were sold and brought to market.
That
is an energy breech. Nine is an end number, a number of termination.
She
was one of the nine in her last life.
That
is a conflict in ideology, wouldn’t you say? Where there is hypocrisy, we can come in … true or false?”

“Rahab,” Asmodeus said with a slow smile, “this is why you always make my dick hard.”

Chapter 20

M
ortals had been deposited
safely, a village had been doubly secured, women in Azrael’s care were out of harm’s way … all except Celeste. The fury radiating from his presence alone cleared the top deck of the small cruise ship. Whether it was free will or some instinctual reservoir of self-preservation, mere mortals found a reason to enjoy another area of the ship when Azrael and his men took over the stern.

Nearly blind with rage, Azrael leaned on the railing with both forearms, trying to see beyond the horizon into the next dimension until the rail glowed white-hot.

“You’re going to cause a deck fire if you don’t channel this properly, mon,” Isda said calmly.

Bath Kol was on Azrael’s flank. “Listen, as long as you’ve got that key—”

“You told me that already,” Azrael yelled, pushing
away from the rail. “But standing around and doing nothing doesn’t help her!”

“Burning yourself out doesn’t either, brother,” Gavreel suggested soothingly. “Let’s think this through strategically.”

“Think, wait … what
the hell!
” Azrael said now, pacing.

“That is exactly where Asmodeus wants you to be,” Pas-char said calmly. “In hell. In your mind. So you can’t think.”

Aziza walked up to the gathering of men with Melissa and Maggie and stood in front of Azrael. “You’re connected to her, you know.”

Tempering his response out of respect, even though the words wouldn’t form, he nodded.

“May I see the key?” Aziza held out her hand. It wasn’t a request.

Azrael looped the chain over his head and gave it to her, watching her study it.

“The book was gold, right? Quartz crystal around it and gold?” She looked up at Azrael but Bath Kol nodded.

“Yeah,” Bath Kol said, and took out a cigarette.

“A key is usually symbolic of male energy, yet this silver key, silver being the feminine principle, is going into a male book.” She stood on the deck holding the key, absorbing from it as the chain dangled between her graceful fingers and Azrael’s nerves frayed down to a nub. “You’ve been trying to locate her, right?”

“C’mon, ’Ziza,” Bath Kol said, lighting up. “What kinda question is that? The man here is losing his freakin’ mind and—”

“You’ve been trying to go into her mind for knowledge, trying to locate her by forcible entry, and the people who have her aren’t worried about her—they’re worried about you. So, fall back. Surrender.”

“What?” Azrael walked in a small circle, trying to keep his voice modulated when responding to Aziza.

“Let her come into you,” Aziza said quietly, then closed her eyes. “In fact, there are three sisters here. She can come to us, rather than us trying to chase her down.”

No one spoke for a few minutes as Aziza scanned the environment for impressions with her mind.

“Paschar, that’s why your visions aren’t connecting with her, either. You aren’t allowing her impressions to come into you … you are chasing her, running her down to capture her thoughts. All with good intent, of course, but it doesn’t work that way under these circumstances. Old paradigms are falling away. It is a return of the feminine principle.”

Aziza opened her eyes and laid a hand on Azrael’s arm. “Come. Sit. You need to be healed before you can complete this mission.”

“No offense, Aziza, but I need to kill something. When I’m done, you can heal me.”

Steadfast, she blocked his attempt to step around her. “No. In order to find her, you have to use the lessons we learned in the village. At every turn, we’ve been given signs. What did we learn there? That we cannot do it alone—you cannot do it alone.”

Azrael let out a hard breath, uncomfortable with the reminder.

“Pride goeth before a fall, man,” Aziza said, frowning. “You of all people know that.”

“Wow … she went there,” Bath Kol said with a low whistle.

“Dat’s cold, ma,” Isda said in a dejected murmur.

“It’s the truth,” she said, folding her arms over her petite breasts with the key firmly clutched in her hand. “Tell him, BK. I can turn his chakras inside out, and he needs that right now. In fact, didn’t that little boy teach your big, burly ass
anything
about surrender in order to conquer the dark?”

“Surrender is my Achilles’ heel, I admit,” Azrael said in a low rumble.

Aziza sucked her teeth and then pointed to a chair. “Go, sit!” She spun on the group as Azrael moved to a deck chair and plopped down in it. “This man is the one among us who is most injured, but unlike the child, not only doesn’t he accept that he’s been mortally wounded by the abduction of Celeste, he rejects a collective effort to try to take this pain from him. Pain is sickness, dis-ease of the mind, body, and spirit. So, we are going to surround him like we did for that child and we are going to send so much love, so much Light, so much hope, into him that his spirit will be bright enough for Celeste to see through the darkness clouding her head. And, then, he is going to be receptive—open—yielding to accept in her transmissions to him so he can see
her
… and we’re gonna get on our knees beside him and be his training wheels until he gets this receiving thing down cold.
Then
he can go kill something. Agreed?”

“Yes,” Azrael said as others joined in. He stared up
at the petite women who stood before him with her arms folded looking as though she were ready to have a street fight. “I’m sorry. You’re right. This thing is tearing me up, Aziza.”

“Ashé,” she murmured, getting down on her knees in front of him and taking up his hands.

Hers were so small within his as she pressed the key between their palms and she kissed the backs of his hands. “We’re gonna get her back, honey. I know this to be true, but you’ve gotta believe.”

His brothers and sisters in battle slid beside Aziza and fit in all around him. She bowed her head and led the prayer, pelting stanzas with “Ashé, amen, and so it is!” Her fervent energy channeled in from all the others’ energy took hold of his spinal column, layering Light and current where trauma had blacked out sections. Then she placed her hand over his chest, pressing the key to his heart chakra, making warmth bloom within the once-heavy cavity. Soon that warmth spread to his lungs and through his torso and down his limbs. Peace was there but so was determination.

“Feel her,” Aziza murmured, now placing both hands on his chest with her eyes closed. “Remember everything you love about her and invite her into this space of Light within you and then be still … suspend all thought. Just feel her warmth coming into you.”

Azrael could feel his brothers’ wings gently brushing his shoulders and arms as they surrounded him, then they faded like the breeze. Melissa’s and Maggie’s slow, easy breaths melted into the night. Aziza’s hands, like hot stones, disappeared into the heat that became Celeste’s
smile … and her laugh … and her sigh … and her warm embrace. Her sad, sad smile and distant gaze out of a window drifted on a tear that ran down his cheek. Then her eyes became his eyes as he looked out from them from a villa on the Red Sea.

“Baby … where did they take you?” he murmured, feeling her breaths become his breaths.

I don’t know … but they are taking me home. Go home.

“To heaven … or to our home?” he said on a quiet exhale of her breath.

Philly.

“Are you hurt?” he said, tracing his bottom lip and tasting blood. “Who struck you?”

Rahab,
the wind told him as the Nile lapped against the ship’s hull.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m coming for you.”

No … let me show you what they have planned. Then come to me. I love you.

Images poured into his mind, reverberating against the darkness of his worst fears and deepest rage, and soon the images rippled through the group, entering each person who touched him until it was over and they were left spent.

Azrael sat up, then stood up and rubbed both palms down his face. “Thank you, Aziza. I am forever in your debt.”

“You all have to leave us; we’ll just slow you down,” Aziza said quietly, and looked at Bath Kol. “We can catch a flight out of Luxor so we don’t have to go all the way back to Cairo, if Isda can arrange it. But we’ll be protected. They don’t want us and don’t want to jeopardize
you giving them the key. Some of the brothers that escorted us over can escort us back, but you have to go and warn the others.”

Bath Kol came to her and held her hands and then suddenly hugged her. “Didn’t we do this before, Aziza? You told me that before and they burned the temple to the ground with you in it. You didn’t come back for
lifetimes.
We’ll figure out—”

“Shhhh,” she whispered, and kissed him gently. “You have to go. I eventually came back when it was time, and it’s probably far more dangerous what you’re about to walk into than me catching a flight with the girls home.”

“You are minimizing, woman, I know you,” he said, dropping his head against her shoulder.

She rubbed the broad expanse of his shoulders by hugging him tightly and reaching up and under his wings. “Walk through the ether and don’t look back.”

Gavreel folded Maggie into a winged embrace, and Paschar took Melissa into his arms and shielded their deep kiss with his plumage.

“We’re gonna get her back, mon, seriously,” Isda said, landing a hand on Azrael’s shoulder. “And all in one piece.”

Azrael looped the key over his neck and rubbed it. “Absolutely.”

“Take a memo,” Asmodeus
said, staring at a hooded messenger demon as its eyes began to glow. “Go find Azrael and tell him that I have something of his of value and he has something of mine, and I’d like to do an exchange.”

The demon nodded and lowered his scythe. “I will need protection, given his state. And how will I find him?”

Asmodeus stood and went to Celeste. He stroked her cheek, then slapped her, opening up the cut on her lip. He tore a bit of fabric from his sleeve as she angrily glared at him while straining against the nylon ties that held her. When he wiped her lip with the fabric, she spit in his face.

“Perfect,” he murmured, and wiped his face with the bloody fabric, then handed it to the demon. “This is bait. He was last seen around Philae but is probably heading back toward Aswan where he came down from this afternoon. He has to have made camp somewhere. Put this cloth out there in the desert and come to him as a swarm. Become many insects with very tiny heads or I assure you he will take yours.”

Blood on the wind
made Azrael lift his head from his top-deck meditation and push away from the rail. Total panic electrified his limbs. The sense of complete powerlessness made him grind his teeth. He’d been waiting for Isda to secure the women’s safe passage back to the United States, then the brothers would walk through the ether as a unit to return early to Philadelphia. But now Celeste’s blood was in the air? Intolerable.

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