Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

Adam didn't listen. He was distracting Balaam so I could try again. He believed I could do it. He was betting his life I could do it.

I closed my eyes and if I'd thought I'd tried my hardest before, it was nothing compared to how hard I tried now. Everything disappeared as the incantation took over. That was all there was--the words, the power, the will, the desperation.

If I failed--I didn't want to think of what would happen if I failed. But I had to, because that was the only thing that was going to make it damned well certain I'd give this everything I had. Fail, and Balaam would kill Adam. Fail, and Balaam would unleash the virus. Fail, and my world--and everyone in it--could be destroyed.

Do not fail. That was the only option.

I recited the incantation and then I recited it again and then--

A hand on my shoulder. A voice in my ear. "It's over, Savannah. He's gone."

I looked up at Adam. I took his arm and I pulled myself up and only then did I look over at Balaam. Only it wasn't Balaam. It was just Gilles de Rais's ruined body, lying in a cornfield.

I picked up the vials in my good hand, lowered myself to the ground and sat there, cradling them, Adam beside me with his arms around me.

FORTY-EIGHT

The Cabal team showed up about thirty seconds later. Figures, doesn't it?

I radioed Lucas and Paige to meet us back in the auditorium. According to the team members who'd just arrived, something had happened there. Something I really wanted to see.

When we made it back, I saw Elena and Clay first. Elena noticed the blood on my shirt and rushed over, but I waved her away.

"Is she here?" I asked. "Is she okay?"

Elena smiled and nodded. "She's fine."

With Adam helping me, I crossed the stage to where Hope lay on the floor, Jeremy tending to her, Jaime gripping her hand. And Karl . . . Karl was holding a baby.

"Nita Elena Adams Marsten," Hope said, smiling. "Yes, it's a mouthful, but she'll grow into it."

"She's beautiful," I said. And she was--with black hair and wide blue eyes, staring up at her father.

"She's putting a spell on him," Hope said. "Not that she needs to. Someone already has Daddy wrapped around her little finger."

"Takes after her mother," Karl said.

Everyone laughed. I just sat and stared at Nita. I'm not one for babies, really. But this was different. This was . . . I won't say a miracle, because that's corny. But after everything we'd gone through, this new life just seemed . . . perfect.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner," Karl said.

"What?" Hope blinked. "Um, if you mean when I was taken captive, you were nearly dead at the time, so--"

She stopped. Karl had been looking down at Nita. Now he lifted his head and his eyes shimmered. They weren't orange or green like a demon's. And they didn't just glow like Aratron's. They shimmered iridescent, with points of a thousand colors.

"Oh," Hope said.

She lifted her hands as she struggled to keep her expression calm. He handed the baby back to her and she clutched Nita tight, her gaze never breaking with those eyes.

"I was watching," he said. "But it seemed best not to interfere."

She just nodded and cradled Nita, who started to fuss.

"The grandchildren of demons don't inherit their powers," he said. "But I am not a demon."

"No," Hope whispered. She looked at Nita, and her eyes filled with tears; then she looked back at him and said fiercely, "No."

He pushed the sweaty curls from Hope's forehead. "She will not inherit the hunger for chaos. That is . . ." He tilted his head. "A consequence of living among demons. It is the powers she will inherit--the visions and the rest. That will not be easy, but it will be . . . easier. More important, it will be easier for you. She's taken some of your power. It will dilute it, and dilute the hunger. That will help."