Maybe he really was coerced.
While I have no idea how he got there, I’m determined to stop this madness before it can escalate further.
I jostle against the bloodthirsty crowd, gagging on sickly puffs of ethanol that waft from their lips, seep from their pores, as I make my way to the front. Only to watch Dace willingly lower his head, allowing Suriel to drape the hissing, writhing rattler around his neck, as a hand clamps down hard on my arm, dragging me back into the belly of the masses.
“Almost time for me to shift.” Cade tightens his grip. His fingers leaving sharp imprints in my flesh, his fathomless, icy-blue eyes meeting mine. “And just as I planned, my timing is perfect. Seems you and Dace really are fated. Destined to die at the exact same time. Tragically romantic—all the way to the bitter end.” He uses his free hand to shove a cold sharp knife hard against my side, before I have a chance to reach for mine, leaving no doubt of his intention to use it.
I push against him in protest.
Jab my elbow smack into his gut as my foot finds his shin.
But Cade’s freakishly strong. He just laughs in my ear and holds me in place. “Watch,” he hisses, twisting the knife until it pierces the tight weave of my sweater, rips a hole in the tank top I wear underneath, and pricks at my flesh.
At the moment, the state of my flesh bears little consequence. With only the vaguest awareness of the shock of icy-cold metal piercing my skin, the warm trickle of blood that streams down my side, I continue my struggle against him in a desperate fight to reach Dace, as I gape in horror at the spectacle unfolding before me.
Dace.
Tied to a chair.
With a venomous snake draped over his neck.
“One strike and he’s history!” Cade’s voice buzzes with excitement. His words reverberate hard against my cheek. “It’s all over, Seeker.” He focuses hard on the snake with an intense, burning red gaze. Waiting for just the right moment to complete the shift, cleave his blade deep into me, and claim the ultimate Coyote victory.
If I had any clue what Dace was doing, or how he ended up there, I might have a better idea how to help. But while I don’t know a thing about reptiles, I do know that animals tend to strike when they feel hungry, threatened, or both.
Which means I need to rethink my earlier plan to ambush the stage. I can’t risk startling the snake when doing so could cause it to turn against Dace.
Left with no choice but to trust that Dace knows what he’s doing, I turn my focus to summoning my athame into my hand. While I’m committed to not killing Cade, if he goes too far, injuring him is not out of the question.
From somewhere within my back pocket, the blade begins to vibrate and move, as Suriel stares transfixed at Dace, and Cade’s hot, labored breath pelts hard against the back of my neck—the second sign (after the glowing red eyes) that the shift is at hand.
He adjusts his grip, digs the blade deeper into my flesh, as I steal a moment to close my eyes and call upon my collection of helpers and tools. Using every bit of magick I possess to ask for their help in moving the athame from my pocket to my hand.
The blade flips out of my pocket. Finds its way to my palm. As Cade curses under his breath, and Dace says, “I think he likes me.”
What?
My lids snap open, my athame all but forgotten, when I see Dace still on the stage, still tied to the chair, a good-natured smile lighting his face as the venomous rattler lovingly nuzzles his cheek.
“Does this mean I can keep him?” Dace lifts his gaze to meet Suriel’s, laughing when the snake creeps up to his head, coils itself on the crown, and hisses at Suriel when he tries to snatch it away.
“Did you see that?” Outraged, Suriel whirls on the crowd. His voice thick with indignation and fury, he shouts, “Did you see the way he looked at that snake? He has possessed it with his demon spirit—just as he will soon possess all of you. None of you are safe!” His eyes bulge, his crooked index finger stretches toward the sky. Only to have the mob respond by sending a half-full beer bottle soaring toward his head, this time grazing his ear.
But Suriel’s so far gone, so unhinged, he remains completely unaware of the wound—the jagged flag of flesh left bloody and dangling, dripping onto the frayed white collar of his shirt. He stoops toward the large basket he’s placed by his feet, dips a hand in, and faces the crowd with a feverish gaze, and an armful (seven if I can trust my hurried count) of venomous snakes.
“Still feeling brave?” He dangles the nest of snakes before Dace. “You’ll never survive this one, boy. You can’t get to them—they know who you are!”
Dace flinches. The move slight, nearly imperceptible, but I caught it. And from the way Cade laughs under his breath, he saw it too.
“Here comes the money shot!” he sings. Having regained his confidence, he inches the knife deeper into me. “I change, and the Seeker and my abomination of a brother say bye-bye forever.”
Cade’s eyes glow a deep burning red, as he watches Suriel toss the tangle of hissing, venomous snakes into Dace’s lap. And I know I have just a matter of seconds to use my weapon against him while I still can.
“Sure you want to do this?” I say, my eyes never once leaving Dace, as I tighten my grip on the hilt. “Sure you want all of these people to see you in demon face?”
“You kidding?” He laughs, the sound he makes somewhere between animal and human. “They’re so ripped they won’t know the difference. Besides, they’re about to get used to it. As soon as I rid the world of you, I plan to spend most of my time in my altered form. I’ll
have no further need to blend in.” He pushes the knife just a little bit deeper, but still enough for me to let out a small squeal of pain. The sound as startling to me as it was to him. And I know that no matter what happens on stage, it’s time to fight back. It’s just a matter of time before Cade punctures something, does serious damage.