Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

“It was not my goal,” he replied, lip curling. “Your chekkunden lover destroyed the last chance of a gentler solution.”

“Chekkunden” roughly translated to “honorless scum.” Damn, was I ever tempted to smack him into a different kind of orbit. “That’s hysterical,” I said. “Mzatal’s the only lover I’ve had who isn’t chekkunden. Meanwhile, you lead the pack when it comes to my asshole exes.” I narrowed my eyes. “And what did Mzatal do to fuck up your so-called gentler solution? And solution to what?”

His scarred right hand twitched, and he clenched it. “He disrupted our ritual. Stole you away.”

Stole you away. Time slowed to a crawl, and I went completely and utterly still. Mzatal had indeed stolen me away—from the ritual in which Rhyzkahl had tortured me, bringing pain upon pain as he carved sigils into my flesh with his essence blade and rakkuhr. Had Mzatal failed, I would have lost my self and become Rowan, a weaponized summoner for the Mraztur.

“That was your gentler solution?” My voice was soft with rage. “Torturing me? Destroying me? Turning me into a thrall?”

Rhyzkahl’s gaze bored into mine. “Gentler for Earth,” he said. “Gentler for humans.”

Every beat of my heart seemed to shake the air. I didn’t want to ask the question, didn’t want to know the answer. Didn’t want to know if perhaps it had been wrong to survive the torment. “And what, pray tell,” I managed, “is the problem that requires such a gentle solution?”

His face remained impassive. “The impending destruction of the demon realm and, subsequently, Earth.”

Bullshit. I didn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust him. And I certainly couldn’t believe that anything was as cut and dried as “had to sacrifice you or we all die.” Asshole.

“Then I guess I need to get my ass in gear so I can save the world.” I gestured grandly to the a

rcane tendrils of red and shadow. “Enjoy your rakkuhr.” And with that I turned my back on him and headed to the house.

Chapter 9

Pellini came out onto the back porch as I reached the steps. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that this is bad. Right?” He swept a worried look over the tendrils of rakkuhr.

“Extremely,” I said, “and it’ll only get worse.” A low headache took up residence at the base of my skull. “Is Jill inside? I’ll fill everyone in about all this crap, but I need to talk to her first.”

“She’s in the war room.”

I thanked him and headed to what used to be my dining room. Now maps covered three walls, and dominating the fourth was a giant flatscreen TV permanently tuned to the recently created Demon News Network. Despite the silly name, DNN really did maintain the best and most up-to-date coverage of arcane-related world events. Jill sat at the far end of a long table littered with papers, and weapons. A thick, leather-bound book lay open in front of her, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies remained untouched atop a pile of reports.

She frowned when I entered. “You look stressed. Eat a cookie.”

“I am, and I will,” I said, “but before I tell everyone the bad news, I have a bit of good news for you.” Jill straightened. I took a deep breath and bulled on. “Even though things went to shit out on the nexus, I got a signature hit on the AWOL four.”

She dropped her hands to her lap. I didn’t need to see to know she was clenching them together. “What does that mean in people-speak?” she asked quietly.

“That they’re alive for sure. And on Earth . . . sort of.”

“Where?” Her eyes narrowed. “And what does ‘sort of’ mean?”

I probably could have left off that last part. “I know they’re within a five mile radius of downtown Beaulac, but the arcane signatures phase in and out. Like they’re here then they’re not, but . . . more here than not.” I winced. “I wish I could explain it better.”

Jill sat in silence for a moment. “You’ll tell me when you have more specifics.” It was an order backed by a scary undercurrent of intensity.

“The instant I know.”

She nodded, quick and firm. “I’ll call Bryce and Pellini in so you can give us the bad news.”

After the two arrived, I briefed everyone on the unfolding rakkuhr disaster. Pellini monitored our DIRT feed on the laptop, face going stony as I spoke.

“Are we all going to mutate?” Bryce asked when I finished. “I’ll put in my order for wings now.”

“I’ll make a note of it,” I said, grateful for the attempt at humor in a terrible situation.

“Is the new landscaping part of this?” Jill asked.

It took me a second to figure out what she meant. “Oh, the tree! No, it’s a demon realm grove tree. As weird as it sounds, it’s more than just a tree. It’s, er, an ally.” I spread my hands. “Sorry. It was freaky for it to appear out of nowhere. And no, I have no idea how or why it did.”