I swallowed against the fury rising in my chest. I thought you wanted to survive. Keep provoking me and we’ll end up back in that …
That void of madness. That terrifying maelstrom of uncontrollable rage and violence that had swamped us both four nights ago, devouring our minds, twisting us together, ripping us apart.
Fear slid between us, tangling our thoughts. The sharp cut of Eterran’s ever-present loathing dulled, a whisper of wordless agreement.
I glanced once more at my phone, then slid it into my pocket. Tori was gone, off searching for a way to save me. Doing everything she could, up to and including betraying my trust and putting my best friends in danger. Maybe she was risking her life right now.
And what was I doing? Accepting the inevitable … or making more excuses?
A clatter from the workroom. The petite brunette had pushed her chair back and was approaching the communal printer with hesitant steps, as though it were a lightly slumbering beast.
As the question echoed between me and Eterran, I pushed off the wall and strode into the workroom, my sights set on the unsuspecting demon contractor.
By the time I reached her, Robin had gathered a stack of freshly printed pages in her arms and was waiting for the rest to print. The printer ground to a halt. Muttering under her breath, she peered at it helplessly, then glanced across the room—looking in the opposite direction of my approach.
As I’d been doing for nearly a decade, I shut down my emotions—and shut down Eterran. His presence muted to a dull flame of cold hate in the bottom corner of my soul, and the pain, rage, and despair that had been smoldering inside me since last night fizzled and disappeared—for now.
Emptiness filled me, and when I spoke, my voice was smooth and friendly.
“Need help?”
Robin turned, a relieved smile curling her lips as her blue eyes, obscured by black-rimmed glasses, turned my way. “Yes, please. I have no idea how to …”
Her voice faded, her mouth dropping open. The color drained from her face, pupils dilating, a sharp inhalation rushing through her nose. She clutched the papers against her chest like a shield, her body language screaming one thing and one thing only: terror.
Shame tightened my throat—a reflexive response to her fear of me. Of what I’d let myself become.
But how did she know to fear me?
Deep in his black nest within me, Eterran’s attention sharpened, and my own suspicion deepened. Robin Page knew something about me. Maybe not the whole truth, but something.
My gaze dipped down her torso to the infernus hanging just below her armful of papers, the medallion’s face etched with a sigil Eterran recognized.
“Ezra,” she belatedly gasped, eyeing me like I might morph into a demon and rip off her head.
I answered with a calm smile. Whatever she knew, and how she knew it … I needed to find out.
Chapter Thirteen
My earpiece crackled, and Aaron’s voice whispered through the speaker. “It’s go-time, Tori. He’s heading for the garage.”
I sucked in a terse breath. “Copy that.”
The evening’s event was about to begin.
Though I couldn’t see the door through my crack in the ceiling plywood, the quiet clatter of the bolt was unmistakable. A man strode into view: late thirties with a powerful, confident bearing strangely at odds with his flat-featured face.
He marched to the lectern. With the click of a small cigarette lighter, a tongue of fire appeared. He used it to light the three candles in the candelabra—and their flames bloomed in an unnatural shade of scarlet. The glow bathed his plain face as he tucked the lighter in his pocket and turned. He disappeared from view, and the garage door banged again.
As I squinted at the creepy scarlet candle flames, Justin moved. He carefully slid his glowing phone screen in front of him. Aligning the camera lens with his spying crack, he started a recording.
Noticing my questioning look, he whispered, “Evidence. You never know when you might need it.”
I almost pointed out that magic didn’t photograph well—but people photographed just fine, including mythics.
“Two new arrivals incoming,” Aaron whispered.
The door handle rattled, and a young couple entered. Aside from the long, skinny black candles they carried, they appeared completely normal in their jeans and jackets. They lit their candles from the eerie candelabra flames, then crossed the silver ring on the floor and knelt just outside it, facing its center. Their candles also burned crimson, making the scarlet walls dance like running blood.
“We’ve got more.” Even at a whisper, tension threaded Aaron’s voice. “Shit … how many are there?”
I didn’t reply, scarcely daring to breathe. One little shift of my limbs could cause the plywood to creak or dust to sift down, alerting the couple below. My heart raced with adrenaline as I pressed my face to the crack.
With clatters of the door, an even mix of men and women filed in. They came in ones or twos, all twenty-something to thirty-something years old. Each carried a candle that they lit from the candelabra before taking a spot around the silver ring. Their placement didn’t seem coincidental.
A final couple arrived, lit their candles, and sat, bringing the total to twelve. There was no room left in the circle, the only gap belonging to the wooden lectern.
The door thumped shut and the bolt clacked.
The tall, confident man strode to the lectern. Over his black sweater and slacks, he’d donned a floor-length scarlet cloak with a deep hood. Wow, I’d been right about the creepy cloak thing. The lava-lamp glow from the candelabra rippled over his shadowed face.
“Welcome,” he intoned in a deep, somber voice. “Today, our newest Auditrix joins us for the first time, completing our circle. Welcome.”
“Welcome,” the group chanted back. I couldn’t tell who was the first-timer.
Aaron had gone quiet. My mic was sensitive enough to pick up that someone was speaking—the man wasn’t talking quietly—and Aaron wouldn’t distract me unless he had to.
“In honor of the newest soul to find the Goddess’s light, let us ruminate on how we came to be here.” His gaze found each attendee in turn. “We are more than a mere circle. We are a family, united by the Goddess’s love. We’ve gathered to share our love with Her and each other. Through our faith in Her and in one another, we are that much stronger.
“Here, we have acceptance and unconditional welcome. Here, the Goddess’s light embraces us all.”
The members smiled at their fellow worshippers.
“Outside our circle,” the leader continued, “the Goddess has been forgotten. But how could the world forget the mother of magic who created mythics? Does the Goddess’s power frighten them? Or is it fear of Her servants, who more so than the Goddess have been twisted into something else—something terrible and reviled? We know the truth, but the rest of the mythic world … all they know is this.”
Crimson light flared from the leader’s chest. It streaked down to the silver circle’s middle, hit the floor, and pooled upward like bloodstained water filling an invisible mold.
A demon solidified in the room.
It was a type I hadn’t seen before—seven feet tall, muscular like all demons, with four-inch horns, spines on its shoulders, and a pattern of black scales dotting its limbs. Not the ugliest demon I’d ever seen, but an unpleasant sight compared to Robin’s lithe, humanoid demon.