Demon's Embrace (32 page)

She disappeared into the pane.

Ash cried out, roared his denial of the loss of his mate.

Every plane of existence or temporal plane projected what might have been, could have been, from the time the universe began. It expanded endlessly out into what-might-have-been, reflecting the eternal struggle between creation and destruction, light and dark. Sentience, knowledge and thought had given some of that chaos structure.

But not all of it. Not this. Not here.

Miri plunged into the thick lush growth of the primordial swamp, a place where plants and insects commanded, where little of warm blood survived, a place where the sun filtered through tall, tall plants and swaying trees towered high above her to sweep the sky.

This world hummed, rattled on a scale that echoed in her bones, vibrated there.

In an odd way, among that insectoid buzz, Miri…understood.

She didn’t have much time but she felt something…and it was close.

It was all a matter of timing.

There would be only one chance to get this right, only one out of the myriad possibilities. If she’d seen it right, if her guess or guesses were true, correct…

Ash’s life, the lives of Ba’al and Mal, all of Daemonae and all of humanity, depended on it.

It was highly unlikely Templeton, once he felt the reach of his power, would aim so high.

She dove into the undergrowth, searched frantically, even as she heard the Stranger burst onto this plane in pursuit, following her path.

Terror shot through her.

Miri looked over her shoulder but the thick, lush growth concealed her as well as him.

It was here, she could feel it, it was somewhere close, she knew it. Her hands scrabbled through the thick ferns and mosses as a centipede as long as her arm crawled up and over her, uncaring, and she shivered.

There.

The Book. Unseen, but she knew it was there.

She reached for it.

Her fingers closed on the cover, on the rich surface of the leathery binding, the feel of it so soft, so oddly familiar. It was as smooth as satin and nearly as glossy. The color was a deep rich scarlet, a shade or so darker than Ash’s. It gleamed as if it had been oiled as his did.

Shock jolted through her as she suddenly understood.

A shudder of revulsion went through her so hard and quick she nearly dropped it as a cry of dismay, of denial, burst out of her.

Images raced through her mind as her fingers locked on it. Nausea churned as the vision of how the Book had been made moved through her. She wanted to be sick. She gripped it and all the while wished desperately that she didn’t need to touch it.

That small cry though was very nearly her undoing.

Miri heard the Stranger spin in response to the sound. Leaves rustled. More leaves rattled like bamboo canes as it came after her.

Her only thought was,
H
e mustn’t catch me here, not on the ethereal planes
.

If he caught her here, in his own element, if he took the Book from her here on his ground, here in his place, the Book would be his.

Through it, he would command of the Daemonae. All of them, Asmodeus, Ba’al, Mal.

Gabriel’s unborn child.

And Ash.

Her beloved Ash, in chains, obedient to this creature’s will. Her worst vision, his worst fear, made all too real.

Never.

This was what the Stranger had been after all along. Like Templeton and not. Using Templeton for its own ends.

In his search for power Templeton had broken his protective circle with that explosion, had cracked open a Door to the ethereal planes just wide enough to let something through - the Stranger, who had once been a small curious boy by the name of Daniel.

If the Stranger were to get hold of the Book, he would instantly render the only true opposition to his kind helpless and make them servants instead.

On her own plane, in her time and place, only the now-returned Daemonae had magic, save for a very few like herself. But against the Stranger and his kind?

Magic was natural to them. Only the Daemonae were a real threat to his Master and their kind. Only the Daemonae stood between him and her world.

If the Daemonae were instead forced to serve rather than fight?

They’d be unstoppable.

Ash. It would destroy him.

She wouldn’t allow it. Couldn’t.

There was a way, just one…

Miri burst from cover at an angle, running hard and fast for the place where she’d arrived, conscious of the Stranger in hot pursuit.

He was so fast. So frighteningly, terrifyingly fast.

A glance over her shoulder. She twisted as he swiped at her, tried to catch her.

Claws ripped. Pain seared through her shoulder.

That glancing blow had enough force to stagger her, to tear through cloth and skin. Blood ran.

She dove through the Doorway, turned in mid-air to take the fall into her own time and place on her back, the precious and damned Book wrapped securely in her arms as she slid across the battered marble floor.

Instantly her eyes went to Ash, not knowing what had happened in those few frantic moments when she’d been gone, half-afraid to find the Stranger or Templeton had killed him out of spite or revenge.

To see him alive, well?

Miri nearly fainted with the sudden rush of relief.

Tears flooded her eyes, drenched her lashes.

Nothing could have eased Ash more than the sight of Miri as she fell out of nothingness, as she dropped through that pane with something dark and thick clutched against her chest.

Scrambling backward on her heels and one free hand, though, she faced that pane, that plane of existence, as the Stranger – or whatever it was he’d become – stepped out after her.

To Ash’s horror his blood ran cold as he recognized it even as he recoiled from it.

The thing’s implacable gaze was fixed on one thing and one thing only.

Miri, or rather, what it was she held in her arms.

“Ba’al,” Ash said, softly. “Hurry.”

His heart was locked in his chest, his breath frozen there.

Miri.

He was desperate to reach her.

“I know,” Ba’al whispered, his tone agonized. “I’m hurrying.”

Ash knew Ba’al didn’t truly understand. Someday he might but not now. Not yet. Not until he had a mate of his own.

Another shackle opened.

Recognizing what was in Miri’s arms, Templeton shouted, “The Book!” and started toward her as he gestured to his men.

Everything else was forgotten.

Miri glanced frantically, desperately, at Templeton and his men closed on her, her brilliant green eyes wide, desperate and determined. She turned to try to evade him and his men. But she couldn’t avoid the Stranger, too, she was trapped, caught between them.

Desperately, Ash tried not to fight the chains, to let Mal free him.

The Stranger reached out and grabbed the Book, tried to wrest it from Miri’s hands.

It felt as if Ash’s heart had gone still, as if time had.

Light flashed brilliantly, blindingly, brighter than a thousand suns it seemed, at the very moment the Stranger’s hands touched the Book.

Ash felt a flare of magic, old, old magic.

Familiar magic. Magic he knew. The magic of his people, of the Daemonae.

To his astonishment, he saw a flash of triumph in Miri’s green eyes, relief evident in them, in the curve of her body, as tension was suddenly released.

She was triumphant, nearly exultant.

The Book was gone.

Disbelief flashed across the features of both Templeton and the Stranger but it was the Stranger who spoke first.

Furiously, the thing roared, “What did you do?!!,” as it advanced on Miri.

Templeton swore viciously. “My Book!”

Miri stepped backwards smiling despite her fear and shook her head.

“Nothing. I didn’t do anything. You did. It’s not your Book, it was never yours,” she snapped to Templeton, before she looked to the Stranger. “You’re not from this temporal plane. Like matter and anti-matter you were never meant to touch it, not here. On your own plane you might have mastered it and you might have mastered them, the Daemonae. But not on this one. You don’t belong here. You should never have been here.”

Ash watched, his heart breaking with love and pride as Miri lifted her chin. Her voice rang through the chamber, her green eyes brilliant, blazing.

“They’re free,” she cried, “they’re free, the Daemonae, they’re free from both of you. You can’t touch them, either of you, ever again.”

“No!” Templeton roared in denial.

“Even you can’t make something like the Book simply go away,” the Stranger said to her, his eyes narrowing. “It’s a thing, a magical construct.”

“There’s a similar principal in physics,” she said. “Matter into energy. It’s not a thing, I can’t and didn’t make it ‘go away’, it has a mind of its own now, thanks to you and thank you very much. You forced it apart, out into the temporal planes. You set it free the moment you touched it.”

There was more but she wouldn’t tell these that.

Furious, the Stranger advanced on her, rage limned in every line of its boyish, chitinous face.

“You knew this would happen.”

Miri didn’t flinch. She’d seen this, too, in that breathless moment of Sight, the nearly sure chance of her own death.

“Yes,” she said.

She’d known she might die here.

And if she did?

The Daemonae, her beloved Ash, Ba’al with his hidden anger and cool Mal, Asmodeus, Gabriel and her baby, they would all be free.

As much as it wrenched her heart to leave him, at least Ash and the others would be safe.

There were far worse ways to die.

Coldly, Templeton said sharply in disgust to his men. “I have no further use for them now. Kill them. Daniel, we’ll see you at the office. Hargrove, make it all go away.”

He turned and walked away.

The thing that had once been a boy named Daniel smiled and raised a clawed hand, the other swiftly snagged in the front of Miri’s dress. Fire lashed up from her belly as its claws scraped over her skin.

Mire knew she would die here but she accepted that.

“I might be a while,” it seemed, as its gaze raked over her body.

Despite the pain, she snarled back at it. “Fuck you.”