I was torn—part of me wanted to run to Ian, to help him fight whatever horrible spell Indigo had used to bind him, but the other part of me knew he’d expect me to protect the girls. And with John having clearly taken the esprit out of Ian’s sword, he was as unprotected as Helen and Adam had been. He would have no defense against Anzo’s compulsions, no way to avoid doing anything she asked of him.
“Ian?” I asked, hoping he’d react to the love I poured into my words. “It’s okay. We can fix this. Can’t we?”
His shoulders tensed as he fought the spell, but he remained silent. The fire in him that I’d felt the second I entered the room ebbed, leaving me feeling bereft and hopeless.
“Fetch the other one,” John ordered.
Indigo glanced over to where Glitter sat with the gray, lifeless Sasha.
“I know it’s cliché to say ‘over my dead body,’ but really, over my dead body,” I said, pulling Sparkle to the side so I could move into a position to defend both her and her sister.
“If you like,” Indigo said with an indifferent shrug, but this time I was ready. I had the sword up, blocking the small, deadly blade she’d whipped out and sent spinning my way, at the same time shoving Sparkle over to where Glitter sat.
“Just get rid of her,” John spat, kneeling inside the circle. “I will begin the summoning. Kill the woman and bring me the other sacrifice.”
“Gladly,” Indigo said, her eyes suddenly bright as she started sketching symbols in the air at the same time she moved away from Ian, toward the door. I backed up a few steps until I felt a chair bumping the back of my legs, and I realized then she had cornered me.
Ian still knelt, his hands hanging down impotently, his head bowed, and every line of his body expressing an impotent struggle. I glanced at him, wanting to take the pain from him and in return fill him with the love that burned so bright inside of me. Mostly, I wanted to strip the spell from him so that he could fight alongside me, where he belonged. Together, my anxiety animal declared, we could conquer anything. But with him bound as he was…I knew he would interpret this as yet another failure on his part.
But Ian would be the first one to say my duty was to protect the innocents.
Indigo continued to draw symbols on that air while I gathered the two little girls, keeping myself between them and the threats posed by Witnesses. With my heart singing a dirge to Ian, I lifted my sword again and said, “Look, I know you intend to pull your Cthulu-esque old god into this world—”
“Dark earth master,” John snapped, and knelt between the two prone members of his church so that he could touch both of their free hands with one of his own, while the other he used to connect to the circle. The air within it started the shimmer and shake, like it was made of translucent gelatin.
“But I am not going to let you hurt anyone else. Nor is Ian. Because we’re dragon hunters, even if we don’t have the proper swords. Or even a whole sword. And protecting people is what we do. Right? Ian? Right?”
My words were brave, but the worried thread in them was audible even to my own ears. And Ian continued to kneel, head bowed, his shoulders twitching with the strain of trying to break his bonds, making my soul cry out to him.
Just as I thought he had completely retreated into his own personal hell, I felt a little spark of fire flare to life within him, one that burned with anger and fury, and grew with every second until his determination gave me strength. It called out to the blaze that raged in me, leaving me almost giddy with the realization that he must be winning against Indigo’s spell, but since he remained in that submissive position, I knew he must be planning a surprise attack.
“You are too late,” Indigo said, laughing a little as she nodded toward the circle. “The master is coming now.”
“We need the second sacrifice to bind the master to the mortal world,” John said, his words as sharp as a razor. “Stop stalling and get one of them, so that I can complete this.”
A dark, vaguely human-shaped spirit started to form in the shimmering air, elongating until it was about my height.
I lifted my sword, my eyes narrowed on Indigo, praying to as many gods as I could think of that Ian had triumphed over the spell enough that he could take care of whatever emerged from that portal to who knew where. “Bring it, sister.”
“I am so not your sister,” she said with another one of her smirks, and then she cast her hands wide, as if she was throwing something on top of us. I braced myself, half expecting to be struck, but nothing happened.
“Well, now, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”
A woman’s voice spoke from the direction of the circle, but I didn’t take my eyes off of Indigo to look at who was speaking. Neither did Indigo—in fact, she looked downright stunned for a moment, first examining her hand, then narrowing her eyes at the girls and me.
“Anzo?” Ian spoke at last, the one word riddled with utter disbelief.
“Darling! How handsome you are in black. I always did favor that color. But what is this? You look so surprised. Oh, did I not tell you about my origins?”
I took the moment of Indigo’s distraction with the arrival of her old god to shoot a quick look down the room. A woman stood in the middle of the circle, of average height, with waist-length blond hair, a tight-fitting zebra-striped dress, and a big, toothy smile.
I stared openmouthed for a second before the word Ian uttered registered in my brain.
This was his boss, the demon lord who inspired such loathing that my sister and stepfather had preferred to die rather than serve her.
And Ian no longer had the protection of his sword to keep him safe.
Chapter Nineteen
“DARLING, YOU DON’T LOOK AT ALL HAPPY TO SEE ME. Surely that is just the surprise of me finally being able to access your world, and not because you are displeased by my presence,” Anzo almost purred, her voice flowing like silk and as sharp as a well-honed blade.
Ian heard Veronica gasp and knew from the pain burning across his chest and arms that his brands were bleeding again. Anzo was never subtle in methods of expressing her power over him, and now that he had no protection against her, he knew he was in a world of hurt. Literally.
“I am surprised you are here, yes. I wasn’t aware that you could access the mortal world,” he said, slowly getting to his feet and throwing aside his plan to lull the Witnesses into a false sense of security with his apparent defeat before attacking them. Not that he could do much without his élan vital, but still, he could take down at least the ringleader. “Nor did I think you had any desire to be here.”
“And miss the chance to watch you in action, working away on my behalf? How you underestimate my interest in every little thing you do,” she said, her voice seeming to tighten itself painfully around him, reminding him yet again of the bond between them.
He gritted his teeth, being careful not to glance at Veronica. If Anzo thought for one moment that Veronica held any sort of spot in his heart, they would both suffer untold torments. “You have demons to verify that I am acceding to your wishes.”
Anzo waved his comments aside. “I have many demons, yes, although one has gone missing of late. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Ian raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Evidently, Anzo was too busy pursuing her own line of thoughts to notice his non-answer.
“Regardless of how many servants I send to attend to you, it’s not the same as seeing you in person. Not that I wished to come here. Mortals! What do they have to offer me? Nothing but their insignificant lives, and I can get those anytime.” She glanced around. “So long as I am here, though, I might as well see the courier you were to bring me. Where is she?”
“Your Grace,” the male Witness said, shuffling forward and bowing so low his head almost touched his knees. “May I first welcome you to this, the domain of mortals, and that which I know you, in your infinite wisdom of ages long past, will make your own.”
“Who are you?” Anzo aske
d, looking faintly annoyed.
“I am John Fuller, Your Grace. I am the anointed priest of the Church of the Mortified Flesh of the Anguished Witness, devoted solely to you and your determination to make the mortal world a bastion of death and destruction of the impure.” The Witness bowed again. “It is my utmost pleasure to have summoned you to the mortal plane, an act which was in no way easy given the nature of those who have also devoted themselves to your cause.”
The Witness shot a look of pure venom across to where his wife sat bound and gagged.
“Are the words that are spewing from your mouth like so much infected phlegm supposed to interest me in some manner?” Anzo asked in her most velvety voice, which instantly raised the fine hairs on the back of Ian’s neck. He knew that tone, and knew well that it boded ill for whoever heard it. “I do not recall giving you leave to address me directly. Unless you have something that would be of vital importance to me, remain silent.”
A snorting sound came from Aspen. Her husband sent her a look of loathing, then bowed again. Ian could have told him he was taking his life in his hands to continue to speak to Anzo after she ordered him to silence, but who was he to forestall the destruction of a man who so clearly wished evil upon the mortal world? He focused part of his attention on formulating a plan to get Veronica and the esprits out of there.
“Your most powerful and primal grace,” the Witness said, bowing a third time, this one almost a grovel before Anzo. “I would not for the world do anything to cause you distress, but we’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to gather appropriate sacrifices for you, and thus, I seek to present them to you. They are over there, with the brave woman who brought them to us.”
Anzo flicked a glance over to Veronica. Ian was delighted to see that Veronica was keeping Indigo at bay. The latter was, in fact, clearly casting spells upon Veronica and the two sacrifices, but he suspected it was the esprits’ inherent magic that protected them. “Next to the dragon hunter? She looks ineffective at best. Speaking of dragon hunters, is that the one you collected for me, Ian? She doesn’t strike me as being particularly impressive. I don’t know that she will be nearly as delightful as you.”
Ian was ready, knowing he had little ability to lie without the protection of his sword. “That is the courier, yes. The dragon hunter is newly made, not one who has mastered much yet.”
“Disappointing,” Anzo said, looking somewhat disgruntled. “I suppose I should take her and have you teach her how to best serve me, but that would distract you far too much from attending to me. And I will be busy with the courier, breaking Asmodeus and the other demon lords, at which point I shall rule Abaddon, as is right and proper.”
Ian felt a swell of relief, but was careful to mask it. He didn’t have Veronica safe, yet.
“But, Your Grace—” the Witness said, frowning.
Ian stiffened, glancing quickly at the man, worried that he might tell Anzo the truth about the esprits. If he did, then she’d likely destroy them on the spot lest they be turned against her. It was far, far better that she remain in ignorance about their ability to destroy dark power.
“Again you speak?” Anzo snapped her head around to glare at the Witness. “You dare much, priest.”
“Yes, Your Grace. That is, no, but this is important.”
“Would you like me to remove him from your presence?” Ian asked, feeling a bit of desperation to get the man out of the room before he could ruin everything. “It is of a moment’s work to clear the room for you.”
The second he said the words, he felt Anzo’s consideration and knew he’d taken a misstep.
“No,” she drawled. “He may speak so long as he has something worthy of my ears.”
“It’s the esprits, Your Grace,” the Witness said, and gestured toward the two little girls.
Anzo frowned. “What about them?”
The Witness started to visibly sweat. “Surely you will want them, not Indigo, er…the courier who brought them.”
“And why should I want beings from the Court? They have no power in Abaddon, whereas the courier, I’m told, can help me greatly.”
Beads of sweat dotted the man’s forehead. If Ian hadn’t been so worried he’d blurt out the truth about the esprits, he might have enjoyed the moment. As it was…he looked toward Veronica. Indigo now lay facedown on the ground, both esprits sitting on her while Veronica bound her hands with a bit of torn shirt. “I…I thought you would want them. We took great pains to acquire them via your faithful servant Indigo, who brought them to us in her role as our high priestess. She is most valuable to us, and we would not have been able to summon you without her aid and devotion to your presence.”
Anzo’s eyes flashed with a deep red light that caused Ian to back up two steps. “Repeat that.”
The Witness licked his lips. “I…we knew that the dragon hunter had two esprits that we needed to give power to our summoning, so we took them.”
“I see.” Anzo was unusually still. “It would appear they have some use after all. I did not know they could be used to give power to those wielding them.”
Ian took another step back, his gut sick with dread. A warm presence on his left side caught his awareness. From the corner of his eye, he saw Veronica. To his utter relief, she didn’t attempt to touch him or in any way indicate that they had anything in common but a similar occupation. He was in hell, mental hell, wanting her out of the room, safe somewhere that Anzo couldn’t touch her, and aware that with his élan vital broken, he was severely limited in his abilities. The truth was he needed Veronica’s strength, needed her help to overcome the situation before them.
He just needed her, something he never thought would happen. Fate was especially cruel to deliver that realization when he was a hairsbreadth away from complete destruction.
“Ian.” Pain lashed through him at the word, and he felt Veronica start in reaction to it. He willed her to express disinterest as he bowed his head to his master.
“Yes?”
“Collect the esprits for me. They may not be of use to me in Abaddon, but perhaps I can use them here, to destroy those who would oppose me.”
The dread grew until Ian thought he might be sick. He knew without a shred of doubt that Anzo intended to use the esprits against Veronica, something he would die before he allowed to happen.
But before he could summon up an excuse for not heeding a direct command, the male Witness drew Anzo’s attention.
“Your unholy grace,” the Witness said quickly, gesturing to the small glowing ball of light at his feet. “Much though I would give the esprits to you in the knowledge you would use them to purge the unworthy, we’ve only acquired three, and one of them is spent giving strength to our summons. The other two are earmarked for other things.”
“You defy me?” Anzo asked, her eyes flashing.
Ian felt Veronica start and move back a few feet. He didn’t blame her one bit. He prayed she was well out of the way when Anzo took out her wrath upon him when he refused to hand over the esprits.
“You dare to defy me? I will not have this!” Anzo’s voice sliced like a knife, a fact that evidently the Witness felt, since he all but cowered before her, whimpering pitifully.
“We needed the power to summon you,” the Witness pleaded. “We need to use the other two in order to ensure you can leave the circle and rule the mortal world as you were meant to do.”
“I don’t give two snaps for the mortal world, you fool!” she snarled, and Ian flinched with the wave of pain that blasted him with the impact of a bulldozer.
The Witness fell to the floor, cowering in a fetal ball.
“Mortals have nothing to offer me, nothing at all. I’ve let you prattle on about summoning me here because it was a change, and I wanted to see for myself how my servant was conducting himself, but you…you have nothing I want. You are nothing to me. You cannot aid me in my battle as the courier can. You are worthless! Less than worthless! In the end, you have achieved nothing but summo
ning me into this world!”
The Witness was babbling now, his words tumbling over themselves as he curled up before Anzo, his hands protectively over his head.
“You are not worthy of existence,” Anzo said, then shouted out a name. “Quen!”
A small, dark woman tore open the fabric of space and stood obediently before her master. Veronica stifled a surprised intake of breath, and Ian risked a quick glance back at her, trying to tell her with his eyes to do nothing that would bring Anzo’s attention down upon her. To his immense relief, she gave a little half nod of understanding.
“My lord?” the demon asked, waiting patiently for an order.
“Take this…thing…with you. He needs a lesson in the proper way to speak to me.”
The demon gave a curt bow and dragged the babbling—and now pleading—Witness through the tear back into the depths of Abaddon. For a moment, Ian felt sorry for the man, but realized quickly enough that he had brought about the deaths of many and would have caused many more in the future had his plan come to fruition.
“He is not at all like you,” Anzo said to Ian, dusting off her hands as if she had gotten them dirty. “You do not waste my time with trivialities. How the people in the mortal world plague me. Ian, my darling, I believe you have spent enough time in the mortal world. Retrieve those esprits and use them to destroy the dragon hunter. I know, I know, I told you I wanted you to bring her to me, but if she is as new as you say, she’s worthless. Destroy her and return with me to Abaddon.”
“There is much to do here yet,” Ian said, trying to come up with a viable reason for him not to do as ordered. His mind was blank, the demon within him struggling to be released. For a moment, he despaired that it would gain the upper hand, but his dragon self managed to wrest temporary control, allowing him to add, “Despite what the Witness said, I do not know that an esprit can destroy anything.”
“He said they give power to your desires. Therefore”—she waved a hand at Veronica—“you shall use them to give power to my desire.”