Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

“Seretis claims you are the zharkat of Mzatal.” She snarled the last three words as if they were poison in her mouth.

“He spoke the truth.”

Red sparkled in the depths of her eyes. “Will you betray your zharkat?”

That was quite the loaded question, and one I needed to consider very carefully before giving my answer. A “yes” would be a mark of dishonor. But a “no” could not only put an end to the negotiation, I might as well hand over my head so she could give it to Xharbek.

“Tell me why you want the trinity,” I said instead. Her question had all but confirmed my suspicion about the trinity. It had to be the three essence blades. Mzatal’s creations. To procure them, I would have to betray him—at least from her perspective.

Her eyes bored into me as if measuring my worth and potential, and it took everything I had to stand my ground before that ancient gaze. And I mean ancient. I’d often thought that the lords were “ancient,” but now I was going to have to downgrade

them to merely “really really old.” Dekkak was older than the rivers and the mountains. Countless civilizations on Earth had risen and faded to dust in her lifetime, and a good number of them would have worshipped her. She’d have given even badass goddesses like Hel and Tiamat a run for their money.

Her nostrils flared, and the intense scrutiny eased. “The Ekiri changed our world,” she said in a voice that resonated through me. “We, the Jontari, changed with it. There are outsiders who wish for us to return to our former way of being, before the change. Before rakkuhr.” She spread her wings a few feet and leaned toward me. “We. Will. Not.” Her wings snapped closed with a sharp report.

Her explanation was a little light on the specifics, but I got the drift. The Ekiri had “fixed up” the planet, and in the process—whether intentionally or not—they’d given the demons a big ol’ leg up. Then the Ekiri, who had something to do with the rakkuhr, left. Now, several thousands of years later, there was a push to put everything back the way it was—wiping out every bit of the demons’ evolution, improvements, and advancements.

I couldn’t blame Dekkak for being pissed. It would be like trying to force modern society to live without electricity or indoor plumbing—and with all knowledge of it removed.

No, it would be like the gods asking modern society to give back the gift of fire and everything that came of it.

Beside Dekkak, Seretis caught my gaze and mouthed “Bryce”—quick but clear—before going quiescent again. He was telling me he’d communicated more to Bryce, which made my wild curiosity happy.

“How does the trinity fit in?” I asked.

Her low growl warned me that this was a touchy subject. “Last question. Last answer,” she hissed. “The defiler Mzatal enslaved our Jontari elders: Vsuhl, Khatur, and Xhan. The gatekeepers of the rakkuhr. The first students of the Ekiri. He bound their essences between blade and gimkrah to hold dominion over the Jontari. We have recovered the three gimkrah. Now it is time for our elders to come home.”

Well.

Fuck.

Okay then. Back straight. Head up. Stand strong. So what if Dekkak had just added a couple of tons to the weight already on my shoulders. It wasn’t as if any of it was super critical like, say, the fate of two worlds, or a deep and personal relationship with the lord who’d enslaved a trio of demigod demons.

Didn’t matter. I already knew what my answer would be, even without the threat of death hanging over me. I would agree for the sake of the Jontari, because the trinity was an abomination, no matter what sort of dire events had driven Mzatal to that length. And I’d agree for the sake of the lords, because the blades held a terrible and insidious sway over them, all the more dangerous for not being obvious. It wasn’t a betrayal of my beloved. It was his salvation.

Later, after this crap was done and over with, I’d let myself think about the ramifications.

“You want the trinity,” I said. “I want Elinor Bayliss. There are terms to be laid out.”

“Agreement before blooding. Yes.” A forked tongue darted out to lick her fangs. “My terms are simple. The trinity to me before your next spring equinox. Because I will complete my terms before you complete yours, my six warlords will remain unfettered on Earth, and two of your minions will abide with me. If you fail to deliver the trinity within the allotted time, your minions become mine, and I will hunt you as kiraknikahl.” She paused. “Along with the trinity, you will deliver Mzatal, bound in makkas.”

Yeah . . . no. Not in a million years, you demonic bitch. I’d maintained an impassive expression while she spoke, seasoned with a teensy dash of mild boredom. Now I offered a smile as far from friendly as, well, a Jontari was from Mzatal. “My terms. You will bring Elinor to me within the hour, alive and unharmed in any way by you or your demons. During this task, no other humans will be harmed. Demon incursions are to cease as of this moment. You will immediately surrender to me all human body parts collected by your minions since the beginning of the incursions. And you will release Seretis. Now.” I paused. “As for your terms. The time frame for the trinity is agreed. One warlord is to remain on Earth, and only until the trinity is delivered to you. None of my people will accompany you to your realm. The matter of Mzatal as part of your lord collection is removed from this negotiation.”

She growled. “Seretis is mine. The matter of Seretis is removed from this negotiation.”

Crap. At this stage in the game, I didn’t dare ask her to clarify what she meant by mine. Yet no way could I accept his dismissal from the terms without knowing more. “I would speak to Seretis,” I said. “Alone.”

Dekkak clicked her claws together in a complex staccato. I had zero doubt she was working out a way to deny me and still get what she wanted. “Fifty heartbeats,” she finally said. “Unveiled.”

“One hundred.” I decided not to push the privacy issue and risk losing the opportunity altogether. “Human heartbeats,” I quickly added since I didn’t want to risk losing out because some weird demon had a pulse rate of three thousand beats per minute.

“Agreed.”

Seretis stood as I approached. Barely a foot behind him, Slugthing towered like a wall of writhing tentacles and grisly human remains.

Since we had no privacy, this needed to be a show for Dekkak’s benefit. I kept my face impassive. “What bargain did you make?”

“A selfish one,” Seretis replied. “Is it wrong that I feel safer in the tender care of my mortal enemy than in the heart of my own realm?”