Seduced by Crimson (34 page)

Patrick drew back in surprise. "That's a very cynical statement."

"I had a very cynical childhood."

"No, you didn't." He didn't know for sure, but he guessed. "You were raised in a monastery. You were taught love and faith and all things good."

"And look where that got me." Xiao Fei leaned forward. "You have a saying here: Only the good die young. But you can't have morals in an immoral world. It makes you too out of step."

"I survived; he's dead," Patrick said. "I was right; he was wrong." He took a deep breath. "Hurting people just to cure them is wrong. Making your own father sick so you can take his amulet is wrong. And killing innocent demons by sucking their life energy into your own soul is very, very wrong." He groaned. Had he just called demons innocent? But Jason's victims
had
been innocent. And a part of Patrick wondered if they weren't invading Los Angeles now because his friend had drained so much of their planet's energy.

If Jason had never used the amulet,
would
Los Angeles now be under attack? Patrick didn't know, but the thought terrified him.

Xiao Fei propped her chin on her fist and came to her own conclusions. "So you killed him. Because what he did was wrong."

Patrick nodded. "Yeah. I was the only one strong enough to stop him. And then, afterward, I was the only one strong enough to wield the amulet."

"To become the next Draig?"

"Yes."

She was silent a moment, studying him. Then she flashed him a smile. "Thanks."

He blinked. "Huh?"

She smiled as she resettled on the floor. "I said, thanks. For telling me what happened."

He gaped at her. "You're welcome."

She closed her eyes, apparently planning on going to sleep, but he couldn't let it end there. "That's it? Thanks. 'Glad to know you're a killer, but it's naptime now'?"

She didn't bother to open her eyes. "What would you like me to say—that you need therapy to deal with murdering your best friend? Well, duh."

"I already went," he snapped.

"Well, then, do it again, because it didn't take," she replied.

He didn't respond. He knew she was right.

She opened her eyes. "Ha! Thought so."

He rolled his eyes. "Xiao Fei—"

"Look, Patrick, you already know everything I'm going to say. Somehow you're going to have to come to terms with being both a killer and a lover. So I'll turn your earlier question around. What do you want?"

He stared at her. "I want you to say you'll have sex with me in a sacred grove. That together we'll close the demon gate and end this nightmare once and for all."

She shook her head. "No way." Then her expression softened. "I can't promise about the gate. But I will make love with you there; I will feed you all the power I have in my spirit, based on my love for this Earth. And I will let you, Draig-Uisge, shape that power however you will. Hatred or love, whatever you choose. Because I trust you that much."

He stared at her, and she held his gaze like she was holding his hands: in tenderness and trust. It took three tries before he could speak past the lump in his throat. "You believe in me that much? Even after what I told you?"

She smiled. "Freaky, huh? But then, you already know I need therapy."

He kissed her. He couldn't move fast enough; he swooped down and locked his mouth on hers. She returned his kiss in full measure. She even opened her mouth to let him explore and plunder, just as she pressed into him with her own touches and desires. It was an awesome kiss, all the sweeter because it had nothing to do with Earth or demons or anything but him thanking her for this most precious gift of her trust.

Peter stomped into the room and clapped his loud, obnoxious hands, reminding Patrick that trust was not enough. "Don't be burning that power early," the druid boomed. When Patrick pulled back and glared, the obnoxious man abruptly sobered. "Er, well, yeah. Um…"

Patrick sighed, already starting to stand. "You needed to talk to me?"

"Yeah. About tonight's ritual. I don't—"

"You know, I'm feeling a little hungry," Patrick cut in. He turned back to Xiao Fei. "Do you mind ordering food? Anything you like. Here." He neatly lifted Peter's wallet out of the man's pants pocket. "Use Peter's credit card."

"Hey!" said the academic.

Xiao Fei easily caught the snakeskin billfold, but her expression remained dubious. "Order food? I'll see what I can do, but I don't know what'll be open with—"

"Do what you can. Pete and I are going to talk about druid stuff." Then Patrick strong-armed the man back into his office.

He slammed the doorshut, saying, "Settle down, Peter."

Surprisingly enough, Peter did. The man walked silently around his desk, and settled into a large executive chair.

Patrick had enough time finding his own seat to notice the green plants in the office, the comfortable academic atmosphere, and the plush leather chairs. "This isn't a game, Pete. She's skittish enough as it is without your crude sophomoric jokes."

Peter didn't answer; he simply leaned back in his chair and stared hard at Patrick. And for the first time since this had all begun, Patrick remembered that the man was a professional—an academic with his own share of power, and the most skillful druid in Southern California. He was, in fact, a brilliant mathematician and accomplished at a variety of political maneuvers. He'd have to be, having gained his level of power within the academic hierarchy of UCLA. Patrick leaned back in his chair, suddenly wary.

"So, you find my humor sophomoric," Peter said dryly. "That's rich, considering what you're doing."

Patrick frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Come on. Sex with a pretty Asian chick is going to end the demon invasion?" Pete gestured irritably at the spellbook on his desk. It was the one Patrick had given him earlier, explaining the ritual.

Well, Peter had obviously read it. Just as clearly, the man had doubts. Damn, Patrick was getting tired of defending his reasoning.

"I know it sounds far-fetched, but it's not really sex." At Peter's raised eyebrow, he amended, "Well, it is—sort of. The point is, it's already worked once. We closed the gate some, just not all the way."

Peter nodded. "So you said. That's the only reason I'm considering helping you further."

Patrick felt a wave of anger swamp him. "Don't bullshit me, Peter; I'm not in the mood. Tonight had better be all set up."

The head druid suddenly slammed his hand on his desk, his eyes blazing. "I can cancel at any time, you idiot. There are
demons
out there, damn it. And if you think I'm going to put my people at risk just because you want to sleep with that—"

Patrick's hand wasn't quite large enough to wrap around Peter's neck. He knew this because he was leaning across the desk, his right hand squeezing the man's throat hard. Hard enough that the druid's eyes were bulging.

He very slowly released his grip, and as he let Peter breathe again, he spoke very softly. "The spell works. Despite your best efforts to screw this up, you will be hailed as the greatest druid that ever lived because it was on your watch that the demon gate was closed. So get your weapons, set up a perimeter, and let me do the rest."

"That gate wasn't opened with an amulet." The head druid's voice came out scratchy, but with no less power.

"What?"

"It wasn't opened with an amulet. Some asinine research team did it. I don't know how, but it wasn't with an amulet."

Patrick frowned. This went against what he'd assumed. "You're sure?"

"As sure as I can be. I've heard the city government working like mad trying to close it. They may not need you at all."

Patrick released a breath. "Thank God. Do they have a timetable?"

Peter narrowed his eyes, obviously thinking hard. At last, he shook his head. "I don't know that they've discovered anything useful. I just know an amulet didn't open the gate. You're still our best hope." He sounded like it was killing him to admit it.

"Demons are trying to kill me and Xiao Fei, Peter. Doesn't that tell you we're on to something?"

"Demons are trying to kill everyone," came Peter's response.

Patrick didn't speak. What was the point? The head druid had already made all the phone calls he could; he'd already arranged for the ritual to begin as soon as the moon was up. They'd already done everything they could except wait.

With that thought, he pushed up from his chair and headed for the door. "I'm starved, and I need to meditate before tonight."

"Geez, you're really prepared to do it. Damn, that's cold." Peter's tone stopped Patrick at the door. There was something in it that riveted him. It was part admiration, part revulsion, part horror.

Patrick turned to study the druid more closely. "Of course I'm prepared. I'm the Draig-Uisge."

Peter nodded, but his expression was troubled. "I know you've killed before, but to snuff out the woman you're having sex with while you're doing it…" His eyes narrowed. "I wasn't sure you'd be strong enough to do that."

Patrick took a few hasty steps back to the center of the room. "What are you talking about?"

Peter grimaced. "I knew it. Draig-Uisge, my ass—I knew you were too soft for this."

"Explain, Pete. Now."

"She's a Phoenix Tear, right?" The head druid spun in his chair and began typing at his computer. "The only one we've got, right?"

"Yeah, what of it?" But Patrick already knew where this was going. The sick dread it spawned in his belly was enough to make him sit down.

Peter pointed to his screen. "Here it is. From your mother. The e-mail she sent out on the whole history of the Phoenix Tears." He looked back at Patrick, a hand still on the mouse as he scrolled. "The whole sad story."

Patrick leaned over the desk to see the text. He didn't have to read long. His mother had sent him the same letter. "Yeah," he said as he straightened. "What of it?"

"Well, her power's in her blood, right?" Peter abruptly spun his chair to face Patrick fully. "She's going to have to bleed, Draig-Uisge. She's going to have to bleed
a lot
."

And there it was: the thing Patrick had been avoiding this whole time. Xiao Fei's donated blood might not be enough. In order to access enough power to close the gate, they would need the blood of… say, thirty Phoenix Tears, just like they'd had thirty girls in Cambodia. Just as Xiao Fei had been saying all along. Now Pete knew too. But Patrick wasn't willing to accept that. Not yet, at least.

"We already closed the gate some. She bled only a little then."

"How much?" Pete pressed.

"A little. You know, from… Well, she was a virgin,
so
..." His voice trailed off in embarrassment.

Peter's eyes widened. "Really? Wow. I wouldn't think a woman that beautiful would—"

"She was raised in a freaking monastery!" Patrick interrupted.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, good point. Well, the breaking of that membrane is supposed to have special meaning—I mean, beyond the obvious. There could have been an extra power boost there."

"That's just male propaganda," Patrick retorted.

Peter shook his head. "The membrane's there for a reason. The body doesn't create things that don't have a purpose."

"Hello? Appendix?"

"Had a purpose. And so does the hymen."

Patrick narrowed his eyes. "As a power source? Come on."

"Yeah. Something like that." Peter fell silent, obviously deep in thought. Patrick, too, keep his mouth shut as he thought through the ramifications. If they'd already used up her extra power boost when he took her virginity, that meant they had only the power of her blood. What if that wasn't enough?

"She's the last of her kind," he said, as much to himself as Pete. "If she dies, there will be no more Phoenix Tears."

"She'll be dead either way," the head druid answered. "You know that, right? She either dies closing the gate or because we fail to close it and the demons find her."

"She doesn't have to die, Pete. We can close the gate without all her blood."

The druid shook his head. "I don't think so. It took thirty of them before—"

"I know, I know. But we're not doing what the Cambodians did. There wasn't our druid power; they didn't have our ritual."

Peter shrugged. "You've got to be prepared for the possibility. You've got to be willing—"

"I know!"

Patrick thought that would be enough to shut the man up, but Peter was not easily swayed. He sprang to his feet, towering over Patrick. "These demons are killing people by the hundreds, and this is just the first assault. They mean to—"

"I know!" Patrick snarled.

"One woman's life is a pretty small sacrifice."

Patrick matched the man stare for stare. "It's a huge sacrifice, and I won't do it! Because I won't have to."

"It's what they were born to do, Draig-Uisge. It's their jobs."

"Damn it, we won't need that much blood!" He spun on his heel and stomped out into the reception area.