Legacy of the Demon (42 page)

I turned my back on Seretis and reimmersed in the comfort and security of the super-shikvihr. Though his current situation tore at my heart, my estimation of him rocketed to infinite heights. Seretis had more strength of will and character than the rest of the lords combined—including, I had to admit, Mzatal. I loved my zharkat deeply, and he was a serious badass, but I couldn't deny that the blades and their origin and influence were a cancer in his essence.

Calm determination filled me. Though I was by myself on the nexus, I wasn't alone. With me was the gentle support of Rho and the strength of Seretis. Rhyzkahl watched me steadily from where he sat beneath the tree, while my friends and comrades stood firm and resolute around me. And, as always, the touch and resonance of Mzatal surrounded me in the super-shikvihr.

With my confidence bolstered, I instructed Pellini to have the DIRT teams wait outside the gate upon arrival, then I settled into the negotiations. Dekkak and I laid out terms, specified points and clarified details, while I also ruthlessly hunted down loopholes. The imperator would lunge at any opportunity to interpret wording to her advantage—like a genie who grants a man's wish to never be sick again by promptly killing him.

After at least a dozen exchanges, we reached a point where neither of us would concede the slightest detail and finally agreed upon acceptable compromises.

Dekkak would rescue Elinor and bring her to me, which was, of course, my primary concern. To my dismay, she refused to agree to my “no harm to humans” addendum and stated only that she and her demons would show restraint. Mzatal or
Rhyzkahl could have driven a harder bargain, but I'd reached the limits of my powers of persuasion. Yet deep down I understood that for a mission such as the one I'd outlined, where her forces would be facing armed resistance, she simply couldn't swear to do no harm.

Didn't mean I had to like it, though.

Incursions by her clans would cease until the spring equinox. She advised me that she had no control over the actions of other clans, but with her demons out of the picture, rift activity would drop by seventy-percent or more.

Also, any viable pods left at Fed Central, including David Hawkins from Grounds for Arrest, would get the ilius support needed to successfully complete the pod process.

Lastly, before this full moon had waned to half, she would surrender the remains of the Dirty Thirty via the rift by the nexus.

In return for these concessions, I would deliver the blades to her no later than the spring equinox. Rather than the six warlords she'd originally demanded, four would remain on my property until I turned over the blades. Two reyza, a kehza, and the zhurn, all responsible for hunting game animals on their own for food. No humans, pets, or livestock. The warlords were also forbidden from attacking or deliberately causing harm to any resident or guest on my property—whether human, demon, animal, or lord—except in self-defense. At the same time, all sentient creatures under my authority would similarly refrain from attacking or deliberately causing harm to the “visiting” warlords.

The rift by the nexus would remain open until I fulfilled my end of the bargain.

And, finally, Dekkak would return to the demon realm with one human “guest”—a.k.a. hostage—who would be condemned to slavery and/or death should I fail or break my oath. Though I'd managed to negotiate her down to just the one hostage, sick heartache remained that anyone would have to go at all.

We repeated the terms one last time. The whole thing sucked from top to bottom, but my head and heart told me this was as good as I could possibly get under the circumstances.

“I agree to the terms and give my oath that I will abide by them,” I pronounced.

Dekkak inhaled, as if drawing in my words. “My honor and my blood bind me to this covenant,” she intoned, then with a
claw the length of my forearm, gestured toward where my knife lay on the slab.

I picked it up, abruptly aware that I hadn't the faintest idea what the protocol was for blood oaths. For summonings, I'd always made cuts in my forearm, just deep enough to nick the surface veins. But that felt insufficient for an oath of this magnitude.

A twitch of movement from Seretis caught my eye. Face carefully blank, he made a fist with his right hand then relaxed it, palm up. Grateful, I gave a small nod, as if merely psyching myself up. He'd seen my befuddlement and offered a hint, reminding me of how Mzatal always cut across his palm for ritual work.

The palm it was then.

I adjusted my grip on the knife, casually shifting a few inches to my left to keep Seretis within my line of sight. I had faith that he'd give me a sign if it looked as if I was about to make a fatal faux pas.

Dekkak snapped her wings in the universal demon sign of impatience. Pretending to ignore her, I placed the edge of the knife against the meat of my palm then closed my hand around the blade like I'd seen Mzatal do.

Then again, the lords don't have to worry about permanently severing tendons
, I thought sourly. I steeled myself and silently counted to three then pulled the knife through my grip as if drawing it from a sheath.

Fuckingshitgoddamn ow that hurt!
Breathing through clenched teeth, I opened my hand to reveal the long gash then looked up at Dekkak expectantly.

She drew a claw across her own palm, opening a wound that dripped blood in a steady stream onto the black slab and its silvery inlay.

Without any warning, the nexus vortex reversed, sucking the arcane downward. My legs nearly buckled as my body abruptly felt impossibly heavy, as if gravity had quadrupled in strength.

Dekkak bellowed as her wings drooped under the arcane pressure, but quickly recovered from her surprise and peered intently down, making no move to stop the flow of blood. Her eyes narrowed with avid curiosity, as if trying to discern the reason for the shift in the vortex.

Crap! I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't want her to break my nexus by continuing to bleed all over it and gum up
the works. Nor did I want to give away any nexus-y secrets to an imperator.

“Dekkak! Off my nexus with the blood. Now!” I spoke with as much force as I could muster while weighing five hundred pounds.

She utterly ignored me and spattered more blood, scrutinizing the slab.

The bindings and protections around the nexus dimmed briefly, like a brownout. Whatever this reaction to her blood was, it sucked a shitload of power. Power I needed. If I couldn't find a way to make her stop—

The sigil from the notebook. The one Szerain had told me to memorize.

Use it if—when—you want Dekkak to pay close attention to what you're saying.

I certainly needed that superpower now. Fighting against the steady downdraft, I traced the little sigil before me then spoke into it.

“Imperator Dekkak. Stop bleeding onto my nexus, or I
will
withdraw agreement.” I could only hope that we weren't already done with the oath-swearing.

Her gaze lifted from the black surface, and for the barest moment she seemed . . . confused. Then she growled low and wove rakkuhr over the wound as if she hadn't been intentionally painting my slab red a moment earlier. The instant the blood stopped striking the nexus, the vortex returned to its normal updraft.

Hot damn. It worked.

“The agreement is made,” she said, giving zero indication that she remembered my ordering her around. “The oath is in the making.” She extended her wounded hand then waited, eyeing me.

Seretis turned his hand palm up, shifted it forward an inch then flicked his eyes at Dekkak.

Got it. I held out my injured hand.

“Now we seal our blood oath on this pact,” she rumbled then seized my arm and swiped her thick, rough tongue over the slice.

I choked back a squeak of surprise and did my best to look as if that hadn't been really weird and kind of gross. Dekkak released me, still holding her own gashed hand out.

Oh. Eeeeeeew!
She'd peeled off the rakkuhr bandaid, and the
bleeding had pretty much stopped, but that didn't change the fact that I was clearly expected to lick an open wound on a big demon hand with a palm the size of my torso.

But if I hesitated any longer, I'd look weak. Steeling myself, I grabbed her massive wrist with both hands then glommed my tongue right smack onto the squishy middle of the gash and gave it the kind of girl-on-girl action this deal deserved.

I released her wrist and stepped back, keeping a confident smile in place and an iron hold on the urge to scrub my face and mouth.

“Bound by blood and oath, it is done,” Dekkak proclaimed, dissipating the privacy ward. “I go for the shell of Elinor Bayliss.”

Before I could ask if she needed directions, she spread her wings and let out a roar that shook the air. Slugthing, moving faster than a creature that big or that ugly had a right to move, wrapped Seretis in tentacles and tossed him bodily into the rift. Dekkak bounded up and over, landing twenty feet beyond Rhyzkahl's orbit. Slugthing followed.

The rift crackled with magenta flame, and a horde of creatures the size of large cats boiled forth. Flyers and walkers and slitherers. All colors and all forms. Moving in unison like a flock of birds, they converged to swarm around Dekkak. Potency coalesced around her as her deft hands bound and anchored rakkuhr.

Bryce's orders to the security personnel crackled in my ear. Assemble by the nexus. Keep clear of the demons.

Yulz thrashed in the net as the arcane bindings weakened. Cursing, I dragged my attention from Dekkak then unanchored the bindings and speed-chanted the dismissal. With a flash of blinding light and a ripping
crack
, Yulz was gone.

A circle of magenta and orange light the size of a manhole appeared on the ground before Dekkak. I twitched in shock. It was a rift. A perfectly circular
rift
that was expanding by the second. She wasn't flying to get Elinor like I'd assumed she would do. She was taking a shortcut through an arcane sinkhole.

I yanked my phone off my belt, found the number I needed and hit the call button.

A cool female voice answered. “DIRT HQ. How may I—”

“This is A.C. Kara Gillian,” I interrupted, then rattled off my security code. “A rift is about to open in Beaulac, Louisiana. Best estimate is near the Post Office on Harper street. All non-
essential personnel in a one mile radius need to be evacuated, on my authority, and yes, I'm aware that radius includes Fed Central. This is a confirmed event. Do
not
waste time sending this up and down channels.”

“Yes, ma'am,” she replied, completely unruffled. In the background I heard lightning fast typing. “Your security code has been accepted. I'm transmitting the order for an evacuation of all non-essential personnel within a one-mile radius of the Harper Street Post Office in Beaulac, Louisiana, including the Federal Joint Agency Command Center. Do you also wish to order a patient evacuation from the medical facility there?”

“No, there's not enough time,” I said, concentrating on keeping my voice even. “They'll be safer and more secure where they are.” I mentally crossed fingers and toes that everyone else would feel the same way.

“Of course, ma'am. Are you able to provide an estimated time frame and/or intensity of the predicted rift?”

I cast a worried glance at Dekkak and the widening sinkhole-rift. The original version of my plan had Dekkak flying to Fed Central, giving me a cushion of at least twenty minutes for people to evacuate. “Time frame is very soon. Within the next couple of minutes.” How many people would be able to get out in such a short amount of time? “Estimated rift size is less than fifty feet with moderate intensity.” I held off specifying that was the diameter, since I had no idea what it would be like at the other end.

“Thank you, ma'am. I'm forwarding that now. Do you have any further information?”

I rubbed my eyes. “No, that's all I could get.”

Dekkak bellowed and dove into the sinkhole-rift with Slugthing and the swarm right behind her.

“Yes, ma'am. Is there anything else I can do for you at this time?”

Find a way for me to protect everyone? “No, you've been very helpful.”

I half expected her to wish me a nice day, but she merely thanked me again and disconnected.

Gut twisting, I shoved the phone back into its holder. People were going to get hurt or killed, and it would be on my head. I could stand here and justify it until the cows came home, but it wouldn't change a thing.

“I need to see the DIRT crisis feed,” I said. My voice sounded
weird and hoarse to my ears. “I need to know what's going on.”
I need the casualty reports.

“I'll get the tablet,” Tandon said and sprinted for the house.

Medic Nils Engen ran up and expertly bound my cut palm in a pressure wrap of gauze, instructing me to keep my fingers closed over the bandage until I could get stitches.

As soon as Engen finished, Pellini put a hand on my arm. I let out a shaky breath. “I know what you're going to say,” I said. “You'll tell me it had to be done, that we exhausted all other options. Maybe even something about how this will save far more lives in the long run.”

“Yeah, but my version would've been a lot more eloquent and heartwarming,” Pellini said then surprised me by pulling me into a hug.

“I'm going to start crying,” I choked out even as I clung to him. “I can't start crying during a summoning and with all these demons watching.”

“Would you please shut the fuck up,” he murmured then held me close while I bawled. Thankfully, my uncontrollable sobbing subsided within half a minute—like lancing a boil and getting that first big spurt of pus, leaving the rest free to drain more gradually. I went still and let him hold me, let him be tough for me in this brief moment.

Because it was about to get a lot worse. I pulled away from him then stepped to the center of the nexus. “I need everyone to listen to me,” I said, voice quavering. Damn it. I took a deep breath. “Only a few people here know just how vital this summoning was, or why we all risked our lives in a bid to rescue one woman. Yet even without knowing the details, every single one of you performed so far above and beyond the call of duty it defies measurement.” I paused, tightening my hands to keep the trembling at bay. “I can tell you now that if we'd failed to get Elinor away from the one who held her, Earth would face certain obliteration.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “Dekkak is getting her right now. For a price. I'm paying part of it . . . but for the rest, she wants a hostage: one human to return with her to the demon realm until I fulfill my part of the bargain.” I held up a hand as everyone drew breath to speak. “I have her vow that the hostage will be treated as a guest and won't be subject to the kind of treatment Seretis endures. But . . . that's all I know, and that still leaves a lot of room for a less than pleasant stay.” I
swallowed. “However, if I don't uphold my end of the bargain, Dekkak will effectively own the hostage. Needless to say, I absolutely will not order anyone to do this.”