The Company of Darkness (30 page)

“Not that it did much good,” she pouted, sullen over how quickly he’d recovered.  His jaw didn’t bear the faintest trace that she’d ever hit it at all.

“It hurt like hell if that helps.  Just not for very long,” he allowed, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a lopsided smile.

“It does a little.”  It was hard not to smile back, but she managed to smother it. 

“It’ll be gone after tonight.  You’ll heal much faster, be able to absorb a lot more damage.”

“You know what they’re going to do to me?”  Cady wondered if Ethan did too.  She had to talk to him, to figure something out.  “You could help me.  Get me and my brother out, Ethan too.”

“I can’t do that.”  His brows twitched closer, the furrow there growing deeper.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“It’d be a death sentence for all of us.  I like you, Cady, but I don’t like those odds.  Better to live to fight another day.”

“I thought you weren’t afraid to take what you want?” she challenged and his gaze dropped to her lips. 

“Would you come with me if I got you out?” 

Before she could answer, the door opened and Ethan stood there, taking in their position, her hand in his.  “What the hell is this?” he demanded, even as Cady yelped.

“Ethan!”

“Get your hands off her,” he demanded, stalking forward, hands clenching into fists even as Rikard let go of her, rising to his feet.

“Keep your voice down,” Rikard admonished, his hands coming up in a supplicating gesture.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” Ethan growled, pushing his hands aside and shoving at Rikard’s chest.  “What are you doing touching her in the first place?”

Cady slipped up beside Ethan, her hand wrapping around his bicep.  “Ethan, calm down – you’re letting Ash get the best of you.”

“This has nothing to do with Ash and everything to do with this asshole trying to make time with my girl.  What’s wrong with your hand,” he scowled, looking down at the makeshift bandage.

“It’s fine, but you need to calm down.”

“You’re going to have to step outside,” Rikard said, his voice cool and composed but that only seemed to irk Ethan all that much more.

“The hell I will!”

Rikard struck fast, twisting Ethan’s arm back and turning him away from Cady.  “I can’t let you see her.”  Ethan thrashed at the grip, but he wasn’t as strong as the fixer, and his anger made him sloppy. 

His face twisted with rage as he struggled impotently against the hold.  “Get off me!”

“Rikard, let him go, you’re hurting him!” Cady yelled.

“Everybody take this down a notch before someone hears us. It won’t hurt as long as he stops resisting,” Rikard said coldly.

Ethan ignored the plea for silence, thrashing while Rikard forced him from the room.  “You want to go, let’s go!  Come on and fight me like a man!”

“Please, just let us go,” Cady pleaded, making her voice softer as she followed them to the door. 

“You know I can’t.”

“Can you let us talk, just for a minute?” She tried again, seeing the war between duty and emotion on his face.

“I can’t let him see you, those are my orders,” Rikard said softly, and Cady nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat.  “So stand behind the door.”

“What?”  Her head came up in surprise. 

“Get behind the door.  Go ahead and talk, I’ll give you a little privacy.”

Cady nodded, slipping behind the door inside the room, wondering why he’d made such an allowance that was clearly outside his orders.  Rikard walked Ethan into the hall, only then releasing him. 

“I’ll be at the end of the hall where I can see the doorway clearly, but don’t make me regret this.” 

Ethan rolled his shoulders and flashed him a malevolent stare, but didn’t say a word, instead crouching by the crack of the door. 

“Are you alright?” Cady whispered, hating the fact that she couldn’t see a damn thing from her vantage point.  His voice floated back to her a second later, tinged with dark humor.

“Shouldn’t that be my question?”

“You’re the one throwing a fit.”

“I’m sorry.  You know it’s not how I want things.  He just makes me so…”

“I know, he does it to me too, that’s why I hit him.”

“What?  I meant Ash, who did you hit?  Rikard?”

Cade swore under her breath.  “Yes,” she admitted. 

“Why, what did he do?”

She heard the anger simmering there and did her best to deflect it.  “It’s not important.  It was stupid of me to do anyway, he heals everything at the drop of a hat.  But I don’t want to talk about him, who knows how much time we have here.” 

“Cady, I’m so sorry about this.  All of this.”

“It’s not your fault, if anything it’s mine.  I can see that now.”

“No, it’s not.  I never should’ve let you know about any of this.”

“There’s no point in beating that to death anymore.  I just need to know – is there any way we can break out of here before this goes down tonight?”  She waited with bated breath for any kind of hope in his voice, but all she got was defeat. 

“We’re not ready.  We haven’t tried putting any of the ritual in sequence yet.”

“How about we work on it now?”

“Rikard won’t let that happen.  If he thinks we’re talking about escape he’ll turn us in for sure.”

She wasn’t so sure of that.  He hadn’t offered to help, but he might not stand in their way either.  “You let me worry about Rikard.  Can you teach me?” she pressed.

Ethan’s belligerence was quick to return.  “What’s that supposed to mean?  Is there something going on between the two of you?”

Her cheeks burned with shame, but Cady forced it down, reaching for his fingers through the crack in the door.  “Try and keep calm, you know there’s nothing between us.  You’re the only one I love.” 

His fingers curled around hers almost instantly.  “I know, shit, I
know
that.  I’m sorry.  Ash just makes me crazy.” 

“I know, it’ll be okay.  We have to hang on a little longer and then he’ll be someone else’s problem.”

“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you.”  There was a small catch in his voice that might’ve signaled tears. 

“You are, I’m just glad you’re here.” 
God, she wished she could see him.
  “There’s no chance then, of breaking out before tonight with Ian?”

“Ian’s here?”

Apparently they weren’t keeping him entirely in the loop.  “Yes.  Alma’s holding him over me to make me cooperate.”

“Bitch,” he snarled.  “I’m sorry, Cady, I really am.  But I don’t see how we can get out of this, I really don’t.”

“I understand.”  She held his fingers for long moments as she came to terms with it.  A demon, bound or not… would she ever feel the same way again?  Before Ash, Ethan’s personality hadn’t been affected one way or the other, but with Ash’s blood inside her, could she count on the same?  “What will happen to me tonight?”

Ethan let out a long breath.  “You’ll be lying next to whoever they’re taking the glyph from.  They’ll weave a spell around you, for protection and to prepare your body.  Then they’ll draw the subject out of them and into you, most likely with a
dague
.” 

Dague
… that was his ritual dagger.  “Will it hurt?”

“Yes, it will.  But it’s nowhere near as painful as the ritual to become a reaper.  You can take it, you’re strong.”

“I’m glad you have that much confidence in me.”  She wasn’t so sure.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, you have the ability to do anything you put your mind to.  You’ll get through it fine.”

Cady smiled over the note of amusement in his voice, she could only imagine he meant her single minded pursuit of him and the truth.  She was about to reply when she heard Rikard’s voice through the door.  “Time to move on, someone’s coming.  Mind your fingers.”  That was all the warning she got before Ethan withdrew and she snatched her fingers back just in time before Rikard opened the door wide enough to slip inside, listening for long seconds until he was sure the coast was clear. 

Cady watched him diligently oversee her safety, only relaxing once some inner objective was satisfied.  “Thank you for that.  I know it was risky for you,” she said softly once he flashed her a faint smile.

“I held up the letter of the law, I kept him from seeing you,” he shrugged.  “You feel better now?”

“A little, though I’m not particularly looking forward to tonight.  I understand there’s pain involved.”

“I could try and arrange it so you’re out cold if you like.  You’ll go to sleep and when you wake up it’ll be over.”  His accent was back, but she didn’t call him on it. 

“No, I’d rather know what’s coming.”

“That’s a good girl,” he nodded with approval.  “Face things head on.  How’s the hand?  Can I fetch you some ice?”

“No, it’s fine, just sore is all,” she said, flexing her hand.  “I’d like to get some rest now, if you don’t mind.” 

“Go ahead.  I’ll be right outside if you need me for anything.” He turned to go, but Cady called him back. 

“Rikard, how old are you?”

His head tilted to one side as he considered the question.  “Does it matter?”

“I just wondered.” 

“Older than your boy, but not by too much.  Does that help?”

She nodded.  But only if Ethan had told the truth about being twenty-eight.  Was that why he’d freaked out so much when he found out her age?  Was he still counting the years that passed or was he going with what age he’d first had a demon bound to him? 

Cady stretched out on the bed to close her eyes, pushing those thoughts away for now.  There were worse things than staying physically nineteen for a while.  She could do this. 

Cady lay face down on a padded table, naked from the waist up, her right arm stretched out to the side, bound and clasped to Virginie’s, who lay in a position mirroring her own.  This time she hadn’t shunned the tranquilizers offered, knowing she’d never be able to lie still without them, and if she twitched at the wrong moment, who knew what might happen. 

There were sigils drawn on every available surface in the windowless room, including the ceiling and the floor, to safeguard against the demon’s escape, according to the dreamer.  The blonde girl rested serene as the chanting lulled them into a kind of trance and Cady was glad to have her calming presence.  Without her there, no one would’ve answered a single question, as the four casters dressed in white robes ignored all her efforts at conversation.  In addition to the symbols drawn on the walls, the table itself lay within a double ring of salt, and another layer of thick rock salt was pressed around her entire body, including between her fingers. 

At regular intervals, one of the hooded priests or monks or whatever he was, would throw a handful of herbs onto a small brass container that held hot coals, throwing off a cloud of noxious fumes.  At first they made Cady cough hard enough to disturb the layer of salt around her and the men scrambled to replace it, throwing her the dirtiest looks.  After that she learned to hold her breath whenever she saw them reach for the herbs until the worst of it had passed. 

At first the chanting seemed awfully repetitive, and Cady didn’t pay much attention to what was said, more bored than anything else as it stretched on.  But then something changed.  The air grew thicker, harder to breathe, though she hadn’t noticed any additional herbs burnt.  One of the casters stepped forward, a black dagger in his hand.  No one had said anything about ceremonial bloodletting, but there was pain involved, everyone could agree on that. 

He raised the dagger over his head, his voice ringing out with authority.  “
Et spiritus immundi, ne audirent me, et scio. Casia potest custodire mandata mea invocabo. Es ligatus agitet te tenebras non in spiritu in saecula. Dimitte puerum hominis iubeo
.”  Cady tried not to flinch when the dagger came down, not wanting to disturb the protective salt around her, but the black blade touched Virginie’s unprotected back, not her own. 

Virginie let out a whimper and stifling a cry of sympathy, Cady’s eyes blurred with tears until she realized he hadn’t cut her at all.  Instead of blood, a shimmer of heat disturbed the air over her skin, like looking out on a stretch of hot pavement in the worst of summer.  The stench of burning flesh filled her nostrils, and sending a flare of panic along her spine and down to make her toes twitch.  Would it burn when that knife touched her?  Because that was fast becoming obvious as the plan. 

The caster dragged the blade slowly over Virginie’s smooth skin, drawing the glyph with it and leaving a trail of red, puffy burn marks in its wake.  No longer whimpering, the dreamer’s eyes were pressed tightly shut, a fast staccato breath passing through her lips.  Cady’s own breath came faster and faster as she instinctively leaned away from the approaching dagger, but her bound wrist only let her get so far. 

And then the blade reached their hands and Virginie’s hand tightened around Cady’s wrist, her entire body twitching.  The girl lost what control she had, a high, keening wail escaping her as Virginie threw her head back and stared with unseeing eyes.   In that same instant Cady felt the sting, beginning in the center of her palm, it radiated through her hand like wildfire, burning everything in its wake.  Cady cried out at the shock of it, but it was bearable, at least at first. 

It hurt, but nothing to scream about, until the caster began to utter new words.  “
Cassia constringo vos, ut ubi non malum facient. Cassia, adiuro vos hoc et filius hominis unus caro unus spiritus
.”  He repeated the phrases again and again, the blade moving ever so slowly over her skin.  The pain grew exponentially with each new inch of skin he touched, spreading along her nerves like an infection until she wasn’t sure what parts of her hurt and what didn’t. 

She became aware of the fact that she was grunting, her breathing short and labored as it burned too much to draw in a full breath.  Why didn’t he move the blade faster?  Why didn’t he get it over with?  Did they enjoy dragging out this torture for fun?  Her body lay heavy and leaden on the table, and that was the only good side effect of the spell because Cady wouldn’t have been able to lie there and take it one moment longer if she’d had full control of her limbs.  

The knife had barely reached her bicep and she was all kinds of ready to make that the demon’s final resting place.  She opened her mouth to say so, but all that came out was a scream as the knife touched the sensitive skin on the underside of her arm.  After that there was nothing but clawing panic as she tried to drag in enough air to feed the screams, the white hot pain consuming all else until she mercifully lost consciousness. 

* * *

Forget dreams, Cady was beyond pictures and sound.  In the deepest, darkest slumber, she awoke with a start, unable to see much in the dim room.  The light touch at her hair told her she wasn’t alone, and somehow she knew it was Ethan that lay beside her, not Rikard or anyone more sinister. 

“Hey, welcome back,” he whispered, cutting through the last of her mental fog.

“Hey.  How long was I out?”

“Not that long, about an hour.  How are you feeling?”

That meant it was still the middle of the night, but there was too much to process to roll back over and chase oblivion.  “Is it over?  Did it work?”  She didn’t feel particularly different, only tired and weak, but her mind was as sharp as ever. 

“Yes, it’s over, thank God.”

Something in his voice pricked at her calm and she sat up higher, unable to suppress a low groan as her sore muscles protested at the movement.  “Why do you say it like that?  Did something go wrong?”

“No, it was just harder to take than I’d thought it would be.”

“What was?  They didn’t do anything to you, did they?”

“No, but Ash…  He sensed when you were in pain, and it was… we didn’t like it.”

“Ah, I get it,” she replied softly.  “Did you see it?  Where is it?”  All of a sudden she had a burning need to find the tattoo and see which one she had to live with. 

“It’s on the back of your neck, but you can get a look at it later.  First tell me how you’re feeling, it sounded like you were coming apart in there.”

“No, I need to see it.”  Pushing back the covers, she crawled out of bed, moving slower than she’d have liked on the way to the adjoining bathroom.  Snapping on the bathroom light, Cady squinted at her image, turning one way and then the other, trying to get a look at it, but she couldn’t see the whole thing until she picked up a small mirror and turned around. 

The tattoo began just below the hairline, along the spine.  About three inches in length with broad, tribal strokes, it resembled a woman’s figure more than anything else, but maybe that was fanciful thinking.  “All that trouble for this little thing?” she murmured, gingerly touching the glyph, but it wasn’t the least bit sensitive to the touch.  The trail of burnt flesh was completely healed as well, no sign of any redness lingering anywhere on her hand or arm. 

“I think it’s kind of sexy,” Ethan said, leaning against the bathroom door, his eyes on her reflection.

“You wouldn’t say that if you felt as unsexy as I do right now.  I feel like I got locked in a tumble dryer for an hour.  Did it feel that way for you too the first time?”

“No, not really,” he admitted, his brows bunching together at the recollection.  “It hurt like a bitch to go through but afterwards I felt stronger than I’d ever felt before.  You don’t feel that at all?  Like you could…” His gaze swept over the room before lighting upon the towel rack.  With two fingers he plucked it out of the wall, leaving two sets of gaping holes in the drywall.  “Here, try and bend this.”

“This should be interesting,” she muttered, taking the metal bar and pushing with all her strength, but all she succeeded in doing was marking her hands with red ridges from gripping the bar so tightly.  “Nope, not gonna happen.  Alma said she wasn’t going to give me a big hulky demon, it’s supposed to be one suited for dreaming.”

“You should have increased strength though,” he frowned, taking the towel bar and bending it easily in half. 

“Yeah well, not all of us have six demons inside of us.”  She couldn’t even imagine adding another one, she never wanted to go through the process again. 

“Still, that’s not normal,” he frowned, catching up her hand.  “Ash says he can feel the demon in there, but dormant, like the others inside of me.” 

Cady snatched her hand away, not wanting to be close to Ash.  Would he have an even bigger affinity for her now that she had more demon inside of her?  “That’s good, right?  No offense, but the more dormant, the better.”  She could feel it too if she concentrated, but far weaker than any other demon she’d sensed before.  Instead of the pinwheel of energy, all she got was the lowest hum, like it was hibernating. 

Ethan let out a long breath.  “Get some rest, you’ll probably feel stronger in the morning.”

Only Cady didn’t feel stronger the next morning, if possible she felt even more weak, and hungry… so hungry.  She ate her weight in sausage and eggs with a liberal helping of waffles too.  Enough to stuff a hungry trucker, but still, she felt so run down and drained, it prompted her to ask, “What if I’m allergic to the demon?  Would they take it out of me then?”

“I can’t imagine you would be,” Ethan frowned.  “It’s not a cat, it’s a form of energy.”

“So?  There can be bad energy, why couldn’t I be having a bad reaction to it?”

“I still don’t think it’s likely, but I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Hoping to get to the bottom of it herself, Cady didn’t complain when Alma ordered a battery of tests for her, designed to measure the success of the procedure.  Only from the look of things, she failed each and every one.  If anything she tested as weaker than an average female, her endurance was total crap and she didn’t get a single thing right on the stupid extrasensory tests.  The two guys administering the exam didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to be a psychic to know she’d blown it big time.    

When Alma sent for her, she was all kinds of ready to talk to her about getting the demon out of her as soon as possible.  What good was she doing anyone the way she was?  The cool blonde looked less than thrilled by the file on her desk when Cady filed in and plopped onto the chair, exhausted.

“They tell me you’re having some trouble this morning,” she said mildly and Cady snorted. 

“I feel like total crap.  I think maybe I’m having a bad reaction to this demon or maybe it’s a dud?  Or maybe it’s not compatible with the demon blood I already have inside of me?” 

Alma ignored that for the moment, continuing her line of questioning.  “What about your dreams last night?  What did you experience?”

“I didn’t have any.”

“We’ll know if you’re lying,” she said, her eyes narrowing sharply.

“I don’t know what to tell you, I didn’t dream anything last night.  It’s not even a fleeting sense of dreaming when I woke up that faded, I mean it was nothing but blanked out sleep.  Maybe it’s broken now?”

Rising from her chair, Alma came around the desk to sit on the front of it, directly in front of Cady.  “Sometimes a candidate attempts to downplay the benefits given them by the process in an attempt to hide their true power.”

“I’m not downplaying anything, I swear.  Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was go through all that last night for nothing.  If I had any new abilities, I’d share it with you.”

“There’s one practice that’s fairly easy to tell with simple observation whether or not the procedure was a success or not.”  In one swift motion, Alma swept up a letter opener and slashed it across Cady’s forearm, leaving a long stripe of blood across her skin.

Reacting much too slowly, Cady cradled her arm to her chest only to have Alma force it straight again, pinning her wrist to the arm of the chair.  “What the hell?” she demanded, too weak to pull free.

“You can skew a test with Zener cards or underplay your strength, but it’s hard to control the body’s ability to heal.”  Only it didn’t heal.  The blood welled and ran down the side of her arm to drip onto the floor.  “Interesting,” Alma murmured, letting go of Cady’s wrist after several minutes with no change.