Sacrifice (22 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Quintenz

BOOK: Sacrifice
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“That’s not really possible, though, is it?” Cassie glanced around the room. “They can’t—I mean,
The
Lilith?”

“Let’s not wait to find out,” said Thane.

“What do you suggest?” Ian eyed Thane uneasily.

“Clearly we must strike now.”

“And whom do you suggest we attack?” Ian’s eyebrows hiked up.

“Idris. The Lilitu working with her.” Thane’s expression was hard, merciless. “To stop Lilith from returning, we must stop those trying to aid her in her return.”

“You assume the only Lilitu working with Idris are the ones we’ve seen at the meetings. What if there are more? Eliminating Idris and her attendants now would only put the others on alert.” Ian gestured to Cassie. “And what about the acolytes? They’ve been initiated by a blood rite we do not yet understand. Moving on the cult could jeopardize these young women—who I assume we can all agree are merely victims in this?”

Cassie blanched; I don’t think she’d fully accepted her own peril before this moment. Hale and Dad traded a worried look.

Thane’s eyes narrowed. “You propose we do nothing?”

“I propose we move carefully, Thane.” Ian glanced around the room. “Yes, we must act. But we must act
intelligently.
Keep in mind, we have some time until winter solstice arrives.”

“Why is it always winter solstice?” Royal groaned.

“It’s the longest night of the year.” Lucas glanced at Ian, but the old archivist gestured for him to explain. “It’s a night of power for the Lilitu.”

“I thought every night was a night of power for the Lilitu,” Cassie mumbled.

Gretchen gave her a wry smile, and then eyed the bandage wrapped tightly around Cassie’s palm. “I think you’re going to need stitches for that. Come on. I’ll drive you to urgent care.”

“I’ll keep you company,” Matt said, stepping back to give Cassie room to stand.

Cassie stood, cradling her hand gingerly. She glanced back at the archivists, deeply concerned. “Do we even know what Idris needs to do to prepare for Lilith’s return?”

“Would it be some kind of ritual?” I glanced at Ian. He considered me thoughtfully. “Or maybe it relies on some kind of supernatural artifact, like the vessel Seth needed to open the Seal. Have you guys ever read about anything like that?”

Thane and Ian exchanged a look.

“I have not. Have you?” Ian asked.

“A how-to for waking up the mother of demons?” Thane’s lips twisted, as though he’d just bitten into a lemon expecting something sweet. “No.”

“Perhaps a lesser text includes some mention of the particulars.” Ian stood. “We can start with the compendium.”

Thane grimaced. “I do not like this, Hale. We are playing with fire. Inaction, however prudent it may seem, is still inaction. Can we afford to waste what little time we have before winter solstice?”

Hale’s brows drew together as he contemplated Thane’s words. After a long moment, he sighed. “Let’s see what our research digs up. If we’ve found nothing by the end of August, we’ll shift to offense.”

Thane shook his head slowly. “Time is our enemy. Each day that passes without action is another opportunity for victory lost. We risk too much by waiting—”

“Wait.” I sat up straighter on the couch, goaded into action by a sudden flash of inspiration. Everyone turned toward me. “I think I can save us some time.”

Dad’s eyes searched my face. He knew me well enough to be worried.

“Are you saying you might know something about this ritual after all?” Thane’s voice was dangerously quiet. His eyes danced with suspicion.

“No.” I gave Thane a defiant glare. “But I know someone who will.”

 

 

Dad flipped the light switch off, then crossed to take a seat in the chair he’d pulled next to my bed. I was sitting, cross-legged, on the comforter, leaning back against my headboard. Dad eased into the chair and crossed his arms.

“Dad, trust me. I can do this.” I hoped to cut him off at the pass before he could launch into another lecture on why this was a supremely bad idea.

“I do trust you, sweetheart.” Dad’s eyes creased with concern. I wanted to reach out and hug him, but I was afraid he’d take that as a sign of fear. “But we know almost nothing about her, and you’re getting ready to jump into her mind.”

“I know this doesn’t mean anything to you, but I’m
strong.
Stronger than Karayan, even.”

Dad glanced over his shoulder toward the door, uneasy. “Karayan isn’t as strong as you might think,” he said quietly. “Her mother came from a long line of Lilitu who have been hunting and breeding in our world, presumably since the last great war with the Lilitu, over 3,000 years ago.”

I studied Dad, confused. “What does Karayan’s mother have to do with anything?”

“A Lilitu’s power is directly related to her lineage. The farther removed by birth she is from Lilith herself, the weaker the Lilitu’s powers.”

A memory sprang to my head. Something Seth had said to Karayan during our fight at the mission. “She’s... low-born?”

Dad looked into my eyes, surprised. “Yes. Exactly.”

“Seth said his mother was Lilith-born.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed. “Did he?”

“So that means Lilith was actually his grandmother?”

Dad nodded. “I suppose that explains how he was able to enthrall Angela so completely.” Dad’s thoughts turned inward for a long moment. “Seth must be very old. Older, even, than we thought. To the best of our knowledge, the last of Lilith’s daughters was exterminated during the Crusades.”

I was suddenly struck by another thought. “What about my mother? Doesn’t that mean—” I swallowed, scared. “That means Seth—if his mother was Lilith’s daughter, and my mother—best case scenario—was Lilith’s granddaughter, that means he’s inherently stronger than I am.”

Dad met my gaze, but he didn’t answer.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them tightly.

“If you don’t want to do this, honey—” Dad started.

“No. No. It’s okay.” I forced myself to smile, then scooted down, curling onto my side. Dad watched me, eyes full of trepidation. “You’ll be here?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dad reached out and caught my hand. He gave it a brief squeeze, then leaned back to wait.

I closed my eyes, taking a few moments to gather my courage. And then I willed myself into the dream.

My roses swayed in another rough breeze. I clamped down on my fear, and the breeze died down.

“This is the only logical move,” I told myself. I thought I believed it, so why did my voice sound so shaky?

I knelt and placed my hand to the ground. As the pool opened up before me, I concentrated on her face. Long brown hair, stunning blue eyes, perfect, fair skin—

A shimmering spark rose out of the pool at my feet, haloed in that strange blue-purple light that distinguished Lilitu dreams from those of humankind. I closed my hand around the spark.

Elyia had woven a shield around her dream. But, unlike the smooth shield that Seth had erected around Mr. Hart’s sleeping mind, this shield was rough—more like a briar patch than a seamless barrier. I let my mind skim over the surface of the shield, until I found a chink. With as little effort as it took to untie my shoes, I pulled on the shield. It came apart under my hand.

I slipped smoothly into Elyia’s dream.

Elyia looked up as I appeared before her, still reeling from my having wrenched a hole in the fabric of her dream. When she saw me, her eyes bulged. I felt a mild pressure. She was trying to push me out of her dream.

I smiled a feral smile, confident now that I was stronger than Elyia.
Much
stronger. “That won’t work.”

Elyia staggered back, and the pressure around me shredded. “What do you want?”

“Information.”

Elyia’s eyes widened. She glanced around, as if she could escape.

I took a step closer. “Tell me about Lilith. How are you going to wake her up?”

“Wake her up?” Elyia’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. It shot a spear of ice through my core.

“Are you saying—” My voice caught in my throat. “She’s already awake?” Elyia’s smug satisfaction was all the answer I needed. “How long?”

“Oh, for a while now.” Elyia’s eyes glittered; she looked pleased with herself.

“But—” I wracked my brain, recalling what Idris had told Cassie. “She needs help to return.”

Elyia’s smile faded. Her eyes flickered across my face, suddenly uncertain.

“What does Idris have to do?”

Elyia’s jaw clenched tight; she wasn’t giving it up that easily.


What does Idris have to do before Lilith can return?
” I punctuated each word, moving closer to Elyia. “I know you only have until the solstice.”

“How—?” Her voice was thin and reedy with panic. But then a puzzle piece seemed to snap into place for her. “One of the acolytes? One of the acolytes has been reporting to the Guard.”

Fear flooded my mind. For a moment, I was too stunned to think.

“Which one?” Elyia’s lips pulled back in a snarl. “The blond? Or is it the little dark-haired girl?”

Driven by panic, I knelt and put a hand to the ground. I knew what I had to do. Just like the horrible night I’d stolen Lucas’s memory, I focused my energy, willing Elyia’s thoughts to take on a physical form within this dream. A flower sprang out of the earth at my fingertips—a memory—the memory of this conversation. I put my hand around it and pulled.


No!
” Elyia dropped to the ground, clutching her head in agony—just like Lucas had. But now, I felt no hesitation. I had to protect Cassie. Elyia couldn’t be left with even the faintest hint of suspicion that could implicate Cassie.

The flower’s roots ran deep, and as I pulled, more blossoms sprang up. But I worked quickly, and in less than a minute, all of Elyia’s concerns about the acolytes had been—literally—pulled out of her mind.

“What have you done?” She crouched facing me. Her eyes were dull with confusion. She blinked, struggling to recall a memory that was no longer present within her mind. Around us, the flowers—the representation of that memory—withered and crumbled into dust.

I felt my hands shaking, adrenaline and panic still washing through my system. But I forced myself to face her with a steely glare. “You still haven’t answered my question,” I whispered. “What must Idris do to prepare for Lilith’s return?”

Elyia’s eyes refocused onto my face. She glared murder at me, refusing to speak.

I placed my hand to the ground again, this time seeking information unfamiliar to me. After a few moments, a new spray of flowers erupted around us. “Last chance,” I said, placing my hand around the first flower’s delicate stem.

Elyia stared at the blooms with a sick look of horror on her face. “Do this, little traitor, and you will regret it to the end of your days.”

“Suit yourself.” I pulled the flower out of the ground. Its roots trailed up, scattering bits of earth across the other flowers. Images flooded into my mind. Blood. A knife. A slender finger of sunlight—

Elyia clutched her head, shrieking. “Stop!”

I looked up as the images sorted themselves in my head, revealing this first bit of her memory. “A sacrifice?”

Elyia glared hatred at me, gritting her teeth.

I pulled harder. As the roots emerged from the soil of her mind, they tugged another flower up out of the ground in a rain of dirt. “A
human
sacrifice,” I breathed. Elyia groveled on the ground before me, but I could barely see her. All the warmth drained out of my body. “The acolytes? Are you going to sacrifice those girls?”

Recovering slightly, Elyia lifted her head. She was actually smirking at the question. “The sacrifice must be
male.
” Her eyes glinted with malicious curiosity. “How can a Lilitu know so little about her own kind?”

I gripped another flower stem. Elyia froze, eyes riveted on my hand.

“So the sacrifice, I’m guessing it has to be performed on the solstice?”

Elyia licked her lips, meeting my eyes. “Yes.”

“Where?”

Elyia eyed the flower in my hands, fear growing behind her eyes. “The temple,” she whispered.

“The Temple of Lilith?” When she didn’t answer, I jerked the flower out of the ground. Elyia howled in agony, doubling over onto the ground. More images flooded through me. Stone walls, deeply carved patterns, a massive stone altar— Another piece of the puzzle snapped into place in my mind. “You’ve been there?” My gaze sharpened on Elyia. She was panting now, pressing her fists to her temples in obvious pain. “Where is it?”

Elyia lurched to her feet. I felt her trying to escape the dream—to force herself to wake.

No—I couldn’t let her go. Without thinking, I plunged my hand into the dirt at my feet. In that instant, I could feel the entirety of this dream, another fragile bubble floating in the vast darkness of the collective unconscious of all living beings. I concentrated, shooting a shield around the edges of the dream, trapping Elyia inside, leaving only the tiniest hole open for my own silver thread of consciousness.

Elyia spun on me, her face ashen. “Please. He’ll kill me.”

“Where is the temple, Elyia?” I stood. Elyia staggered back, trying to flee. I gestured almost lazily toward the ground at her feet. It went from solid to soupy in the blink of an eye. Suddenly Elyia found herself scrabbling through quicksand, unable to escape. As I approached her, the ground solidified for me.

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