Shadow Rising (32 page)

“Oh, please, Tray. Save it for someone who’ll believe you.”

Kara didn’t want to listen to more, but he continued. “I helped you the night the Southwestern Coven coven tried to clobber you with the beam. I could have let you get in that car with Johnson—he was sent to San Diego as my backup if I failed—and if you’d gotten in the car with him, that probably would have been the last ride you ever went on. I washed your blood from the blankets so he couldn’t use them to put a spell on you. I took care of the body when I found the dead bounty hunter in the alley that you speared with a crowbar.”

“I had no idea he’d been such a busy boy,” Claudius commented to someone Kara couldn’t see. “Please, Tray, don’t leave us hanging like this. Enlighten us about the other accidents and the witches in New York. It’s been torture watching from the sidelines like this, wondering if Kara could outsmart the other idiots involved and get me the blood.”

“Kara, you have to believe me,” Tray pleaded. “I didn’t know about the New York witches or the other accidents Abbey mentioned. Once the bounty hunters got involved, it got really complicated, really fast. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Her mouth hung open.

“That’s wonderful, Tray,” Claudius said. “Make your peace with her before you go.”

“Claude,” Tray bit out, “you’re the fucking idiot. I just thought you should know that.”

Maybe Sage was going to beat him again, because Claudius said, “Wait. It’s okay. I said he could have some final words.”

Kara could hear the sound of his deep breath before he spoke. “I won’t deny that I was sent by the Southwestern Coven. But you’re missing one thing, Claude—I work for the O.P.A.”

Claudius paused, then Kara heard the smile in his voice. “You’re with the Office of Paranormal Affairs?”

“You bet your ass I am. And you’re already in deep shit. You don’t want to add murder to everything else.”

The Office of Paranormal Affairs? Was that the same agency that Gavin had told her about?

“That’s a fantastic story,” Claudius replied. “But I have a file on you as thick as this spell book, Tray Thomas Oaks. You were born Tomás Carvalho, in Brazil, to two warlocks who guarded the high priestess of the Southwestern Coven. You were raised in the United States, did a tour in the military, and after you got out, you returned to your homeland, probably to get additional training and an assignment.”

Claudius’s shoes scuffed on the ground as he circled Tray. Kara couldn’t believe what he was saying, but Tray didn’t bother to argue or correct him.

“And then you got the job with the San Diego Police Department,” Claudius continued, “most likely because the Southwestern Coven had Abbey under surveillance and thought that was your best bet to gain her trust. If I’d known at that point you were a spy, your first week on the force would’ve been your last.”

The sound of Tray being beaten rang in Kara’s ears—the smack of flesh, a whoosh of breath and his low whimper as he tried to get his lungs working again.

Kara’s voice was clogged with betrayal and misery. “All that, Tray, to spy on Abbey?”

“No, Kara.” He coughed and it sounded as if his ribs rattled. “The Southwestern Coven was interested in Abbey, but not the O.P.A. Abbey was just a bonus for them. It was
you
they were curious about. There aren’t many—hell,
any
—females of your species living outside the protection of your kind. When a tracker sent reports that he’d found something strange, the agency wanted to keep an eye on you—that’s all—and I was already undercover with the coven. Getting them to assign me to Abbey was easy. The O.P.A. was never going to hurt you. You never would have known.”

“He sounds so sincere,” Claudius joked to Sage. “It must be the secret-agent training. I hope they taught you the art of escaping shackles, Tomás, or your career is coming to an abrupt end.”

“I’ve already called them. They know I’m here, and if I don’t check in, this place is going to be crawling with agents before the hour is up,” Tray told him.

But from the crack in his voice, she didn’t think anyone in the room believed that. Not even Tray.

Chapter Twenty

Gavin stood on a gray plane that extended into infinity. The ground was misty, like a storm cloud. He’d done his damnedest to find Julian a space so remote and removed from the kingdoms that not even the lowliest black-wing could feel threatened by his presence.

“Here we are.”

Julian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes. Thank you for bringing me here. It feels right in my spirit.”

“I’m glad.”

Julian turned and locked eyes with Gavin. “You love her?”

Gavin rocked back as surely as if Julian’s words had shoved him from his spot. “You have the gift of reading thoughts, brother?”

Julian smiled, but it was stiff. “I’m getting glimpses here and there, but in this case, I have the gift of having eyes.”

Gavin nodded. “I’ve always loved her.”

“Did she feel the same?”

“You are who she wants. You are who she’s going to move heaven and earth to get to. Kara is a stubborn woman.” He’d had his chance, but it was better this way.

“If you remember me, if you feel any loyalty to me—take care of her in my absence.”

“You don’t need to ask. I will always do what’s best for Kara.”
I always have.

Julian spun a slow circle, then stopped. “A silver streak is approaching fast.”

Gavin couldn’t see it, but then Julian was part of the consciousness of this place now in a way that Gavin never could be. Julian lifted his arms, and a transparent black bubble materialized around them just a second before a pale blur hit hard and bounced, landing face down in the gray fluff.

Only spiky white hair was visible through the mist. “Aiden?” Gavin called. When he stepped forward, he bumped into a solid, immovable wall. “By Hexa’s hairy ass, Jules. Take down this ward.”

Julian popped the bubble with a touch of his finger, and Gavin bolted forward.

“Aiden.” Gavin propped up Aiden’s limp form and cradled his head. “What in the name of hell were you doing flying balls-out through the Land of Desolation?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin saw Julian’s brow hitch. He hadn’t told him the name of this land for fear he wouldn’t want to come. When it came to real estate in the Shadowland, location was everything.

“I was looking for you, you dumbass.” Aiden tried to sit up and shake off the impact Julian’s ward had made on him. “Well, you and
him
.” He jabbed his thumb in Julian’s direction.

Gavin’s whole body tightened, his muscles constricting. “What’s happened?”

“I hope our ritual to ease Julian’s passage between the worlds has had the desired effect, because he needs to come back now. Kara’s head is on the block.”

Julian flashed to his knees at Aiden’s side quicker than sight, and brought his face level with the other man’s. “I don’t understand what that means to have one’s ‘head on the block’. Is she in trouble of some kind?”

Aiden looked from Gavin to Julian. “It means the witches are going to chop her fucking head off.”

Kara couldn’t stand the sound of Tray’s torture any longer. She was in shock over Tray’s duplicity, but until she got to the bottom of it, she couldn’t allow Sage to beat him to death. She was the most twisted witch Kara ever had the misfortune of knowing. “No more! Stop hurting him, you sick bitch!”

Sage’s black half boots appeared in the corner of Kara’s vision. She was panting from her workout on Tray. “Good idea. Let’s give him a break. I’d rather spend some quality time with you.”

She brought the pipe down on Kara’s shoulders with bone-jarring force. Kara’s entire body went limp in the aftermath of the pain, and her throat fell against the wooden block, pressing against the cartilage until she had to gasp for air.

“Sage. No,” Claudius said. “Put down the pipe, and come help me form the circle now.”

“Fine.” She threw down her weapon and skulked over to him.

Claudius stood on the edge of the chalk triangle on the black plastic sheet and positioned his men along the perimeter. “Hold hands. It shouldn’t be long now. And we may not have much warning before the black-wing arrives. Once he’s bound and his flesh body can be killed, we’ll move him to the rack to drain him. Have you cleaned out the urn? I don’t want to take the chance of his blood mixing with the last spell we brewed.”

Kara couldn’t believe her ears. They were speaking of Julian like they were brewing a pot of coffee. “You have no clue what you’re getting into,” Kara choked out. “A few drops of his blood doesn’t make you invincible, Claudius.”

“No, but his blood combined with my magic does.” He winked at her, then his expression went blank. “Hold hands, I feel an invited presence permeating the ward.”

Even though Kara could barely hold her head up, she watched in horror as Claudius’s men linked hands, Sage at his right, as they began chanting. “Focus your power,” he said. “Visualize him alighting in the mark of the Maker.”

And then Kara saw him. The torches fluttered wildly and the energy in the room made an audible
crack!
when Julian touched down, his feet centered in the triangle, his black wings poised over his back like a raptor. He wore tan buckskin pants, and his strongly muscled chest was bare with only a single sun pendant adoring his neck.

The witches continued chanting as Claudius regarded him. “Hello, my Fallen friend.”

Julian roared, and it shook loose stones from the walls and caused dirt to sift through the cracks in the roof of the cave. His fangs and claws glinted in the dim light. “You dare to touch my woman? What insanity is this?”

“I should point out that the woman you’re referring to is currently one twitch of my wrist away from losing her head. Even the Aniliáre have no cure for that.”

Julian’s gaze flew to Kara and traveled up the guillotine, no doubt seeing the blade she knew was poised high above her neck. “If you harm her, there will be nothing stopping me from devouring your entire coven down to the bones.”

“Which is why she’s totally fine. We haven’t harmed her. We’re only interested in you.”

“Don’t listen to him, Julian! He’s going to try to drain you for your blood. Just get out of here.”

“Shut up,” Sage spat and almost pulled away from the circle of hands.

Claudius yanked her back. “It’s all right, Sage. Let her speak. She loves him, and she’d rather die than see him hurt. Now let’s see if he feels the same way.”

“Do you really think you can drop the blade before I can flash her from this place?” With his lips poised above his fangs, Julian extended his wings. When they hit the bounds of the triangle, blue light sizzled up his body.

Claudius shook his head. “This just isn’t your night. You’d have to be able to leave the mark in order to save her. Why don’t you try? Go ahead. We’ll wait.”

Kara’s heart tumbled in her chest when Julian stepped forward and was nearly electrocuted by the energy rising up from the mark. He wouldn’t leave the cave while she was still there, and perhaps he couldn’t leave it even if he wanted to.

“He needs help grasping the seriousness of the situation,” Claudius said to someone outside the circle who Kara couldn’t see.

But a second later, pain exploded across her lower back, as if a giant had slammed his fist two inches into her kidneys. She screamed against her will. Her head slumped, and she could only hear muffled words, as if from a distance.

“Stop! I’ll do it. Do not hurt her.”

“Wonderful. And this won’t take long, so the sooner we get started, the better.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Lie down in the mark, and I’ll do the rest.”

They were chanting, in Latin maybe, and by the time Kara’s heavy eyelids bobbed open, Julian was bound, hands and feet, with red ropes in the center of the triangle. Claudius and his people unlinked their hands, and two men hefted Julian to a strange semi-vertical table that had shackles at the top and a large-mouthed urn underneath. That was where they were going to drain him.

Tears ran freely from Kara’s eyes, but her throat was too raw to call out to Julian and plead with him to fight it. They chained his feet to the wide board and positioned his head over the urn.

Sage withdrew a jeweled dagger. “Where should I make the incision?”

“Just one would take all night,” Claudius replied and took the dagger from her hand. “Let’s see where we get the best yield.”

Kara gasped and twisted in her bindings when Claudius thrust the dagger through Julian’s ribs, then again through his thigh and finally through his stomach. Blood streamed down Julian’s chest, running over his face, trickling through his black hair into the urn below.

“Look how well that works.” Claudius swiped a finger across Julian’s chest and sucked it clean. “When it slows, we can try the wrists, and when that’s finished, we may still be able to get a little more from the main arteries in his neck. Don’t be shy, gentlemen. Give it a try.”

Kara’s fingers itched, and her body shook with a silent growl as she watched her bondmate’s lifeblood spill from his body. She twisted in her bindings, feeling the sharp metal cut deep into her wrists. She welcomed the pain, struggling against the ties as Claudius and his people made a game of poking Julian like a pincushion.