Seduced by Power (7 page)

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

— William Shakespeare, Macbeth

THE COLD AIR
stung my cheeks as Blake carried me outside toward the rose garden that now looked more like a dug up grave. The ceremony would be more effective on sacred ground, and the garden was as sacred as it could get.

I'd insisted on walking and had tried, but my leg wouldn't bear the weight. I wondered if it would ever heal properly, but I didn't really care all that much.

Something had died in me. I could feel it. Even the pull of Blake's sexual energy had little effect on me. The pain in my leg barely registered. All of my attention had pooled inward, sucked up by the misery in my heart.

Father Patrick drew symbols on the ground, with Drake helping him. Ocean had tried to come, but I refused to even be near her or anyone else. I didn't even want Father Patrick and Drake near me, but he'd assured me that they were protected by other forces.

Since we needed his help, I didn't argue. I had no energy left as it was.

Blake set me down in the middle of a circle and pulled out a knife and bowl. "Any portal into the demon dimension requires a blood sacrifice. I'd do it for you, but it has to be human, or at least part human."

"Does witch count?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Yes."

Father Patrick stood and nodded. "It's ready."

Drake approached with the codex Jasmine had found the communication spell in.

We'd already gone over the details, what to do and when. My heart thumped in my chest, and my stomach clenched as waves of nausea threatened to overwhelm me. Drake had already started speaking in low tones in a language I didn't understand. I wondered when and how and why he'd leaned to speak in demon tongue. Was there a big call for this at their school?

Thinking of their mansion brought back all the talks and plans Derek and I had for our future. A future with children of our own and working with the kids at the paranormal school. A future full of love and laughter.

Blake was talking.

I tried to focus on his words.

"There must also be a gift of pain, beyond the cut for blood."

Thinking of my crushed heart, I shrugged. "I've got that part covered. There's nothing you could do to me that would hurt more than what I'm already experiencing."

He nodded and I held out my wrist as Drake droned on. With a quick swipe that I didn't even feel, Blake opened my skin, and blood trickled into the bowl.

I stared at the red liquid with a certain detachment, as if it were a movie and not my own life force pulsing out of me.

"This is just going to open a portal for communication, nothing more. You'll be able to talk to someone on that end and ask questions. You should be safe, and I'll be here if anything goes wrong. But it takes a lot more than this to cross over. Just be careful. Demons are tricky and manipulative. They never do anything for anyone without expecting something greater in return. You'll have to be prepared to give up something, and they will try to make it seem insignificant, but it won't be. Don't promise anything without talking to me first, okay?"

My body shook, from the cold or nerves, I didn't know. "We've already gone over this, Blake. It'll be fine."

He covered the cut on my arm with white gauze and tape and sat next to me, holding my hand. "Focus on your pain and send it to the bowl with your blood."

I wasn't sure how to
send
my pain anywhere, but I focused on the metal bowl and imagined my pain as a real thing—not that hard to do, considering how much of me it had eaten up—and I directed it to my blood.

A flash of light burned my eyes, lighting up the night with oranges and reds, and then it was gone, and the bowl was empty. No blood.

I pulled off the gauze Blake had put on my arm, and a small scar remained where the cut had been.

Cool trick, but I didn't feel anything else happening. I'm not sure what I was expecting. Some red magical phone to start ringing with a scary demon voice on the other line? A ghostly vision haunting me?

Nothing. Just the clear winter sky and cold ground that was freezing my ass.

I turned to ask Blake what we did wrong, but he had a look of terror on his face as he stared forward, his hand clenching mine.

"Rose, you have to leave. Now." Blake whispered, but he might as well have shouted.

"What? No! I need to talk to someone. I need answers."

I didn't budge as he tried to push me out of the circle.

Father Patrick called my name, but his voice faded until I couldn't hear him anymore.

Night closed in around me, cutting me off from everyone. I held up my hand, the one Blake had been holding, and grabbed for him, but he was gone.

"Blake? Father Patrick? Drake? Where are you guys?"

For the first time, I felt fear. Real fear.

Fog swirled past me, and the cold turned to steam, then heat, and my body broke out in a sweat.

A flash of lightning silenced the world around me, and a dark mist clouded over my vision, sticking to my clothes and body, filling my lungs and stinging my eyes. I cried out, but there was no one there to hear me.

The mist pulled something out of my body, something I needed. Something important.

Then I was the something being pulled out, being severed from my form. "No! Put me back. I need my body."

Like losing a limb. No, not like that. That's a tangible pain. This was like dying without losing consciousness. Like being cut in half and living through the pain. Never dying, but always dying.

Death without release, only more pain.

My body faded away as the dark mist carried me, my essence, my soul, into another world—a world that didn't know about light or love or hope.

A world that fed on darkness and pain.

A world, Blake warned me, I'd never survive.

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,

The instruments of darkness tell us truths,

Win us with honest trifles, to betray's

In deepest consequence.

— William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Dear Diary,

Who are we, really? Are we the product of our genetics? A blank slate that our environment fills up with ideas? Can we ever change?

I'm hoping we can. I have to believe that the blood pumping through my veins doesn't define me. If it does, we're all in trouble.

I STILL WORE
a body similar to the one I'd just been ripped from, still felt all the physical sensations of my environment. Heat, pain, ache, hunger.

The hunger was new. I hadn't been hungry when we did the ceremony, which was supposed to be a simple talk, not a yank-me-from-my-body trip to the demon world.

The hunger, it gnawed at me, making me empty and desperate.

It wasn't the kind of hunger that could be fed by a sandwich. No, this felt soul deep and connected to my awful power. I shuddered, imagining what exactly this darkness in me would  consume before it would stop tearing me apart from the inside out.

Bent over, shivering despite the oppressive heat, huddled in a corner in a dark, dank room, I made myself as small as I could and surveyed my surroundings.

I could see why Blake wanted to leave this place so badly, why he was willing to sacrifice someone to stay on our world. The darkness seemed alive, as if it would devour any color or light that had the audacity to penetrate this dimension.

Fires burned in pits dug deep into the rocky ground. Around me stood tall walls of stone, built so high I couldn't view the ceiling, if there even was one. Hallways branched out in multiple directions and screams of agony echoed through the chamber. Fear and pain squeezed my heart. Derek was here, and one of those screams was his.

His need, his hurting, pushed me to take action. I'd come for answers, and I intended to find them.

Standing, I strode with confidence I didn't feel toward one hallway, when a hunched over demon with blue skin and black eyes grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a shadowed corner.

A scream escaped my throat, and he covered my mouth with his scaly, clawed hand. "You not be making noise here. They find you and eat you they will. And that path, the one you be on, that take you straight to the mouth of the dragon. You not be wanting that."

Struggling against his wiry body, his thick skin scratching me, I pushed him away. "Get off me. What are you? Who are you?"

I wanted to run, to get away from this creature with eyes that sunk into nothing, but what was the point of being here if I refused to talk to a demon?

"You be the one calling, I be the one answering."

Body shaking, I forced myself to stand and face him. "I wanted to talk, not come here in person. I was told the ceremony was only for making contact."

He shook his head, thick brick red hair as coarse as a horse's tale fell around his misshapen, hideous face. "Twas for talking, but you be feeding the fire too much pain with your blood. It too sweet to resist. We needed to taste more."

Ugh. Oh God, I almost puked. They pulled me here to feed on me?

"You have friends of mine trapped here." Friends. No. Family. My whole heart. "I need to get them back."

The ground trembled beneath us, and the fire pits shot out sprays of red light. I braced myself against the wall as a roar filled the cavern. "What was that?"

"That be the demon dragon." A forked tongue the color of raw liver poked out of his shriveled mouth. "You not be wanting to meet him. He eat pretty thing like you and live on that sweet pain for long time."

Did that mean…? "Is that where my friends are? Derek and Dean." My heart thumped as an old memory resurfaced. A little girl taunting me. My power slipping out for the first time. Her dead eyes. "And Donna. I need to get the three of them out of here." Would there be anything left of her to save?

He inched closer, his rancid breath gagging me. "That be where all lost souls live. They be our meals, parceled out one scream at a time to our starving world while dragon gluts himself on their tears."

Another demon marched through the cavern dragging someone behind him. The poor beast screamed out a sound like pigs being slaughtered. The larger demon, skin the color of dried blood, entered the dragon's hall without looking our way.

"That be a guard. He feeds dragon."

"You torture your own kind for food?" Demonic cannibalism. Gross.

"We die if not. But death not real, we just suffer in other level." His eyes dropped, face softening.

I almost felt bad for them. They lived here unable to leave, unable to feed, forced to sacrifice their own people to survive. What had happened that they'd been cursed with this fate? "Will you help me save my friends? Please?"

He shook his head. "Can't do that. I be dragon food if do."

I resisted the urge to punch him. "I'm Rose, by the way. Rose Wintersong. What's your name?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "Bankun be my name, the one you can pronounce."

"Bankun, I'm looking for someone. My father. I'm half demon, and my father is from here. Maybe he can help me. Do you know who he is?"

"I not know who you father be. You have name of him?"

That would have been helpful. "No, not really."

"Cannot help."

"You must! This is important. I'll do anything to free them. Name your price." I knew I gambled with a lot now, but I had no choice. I really would do anything to fix my mistakes.

His eyes lit up, his power reaching for mine. It felt slimy and old. "Anything?"

I swallowed past a lump in my throat and nodded.

"I help you free friends. But you do one thing for me."

"What?"

"You stay and be my dinner."