Vengeance of the Demon (Kara Gillian 7)

I started to tell him about Tolya Gresh but sucked in a sharp gasp as an achingly familiar presence washed through me. Mzatal! But how . . . ? He was deeply worried or upset. Had something happened in the demon realm? Maybe strong emotions could bridge the distance in our bond.

“Kara? You okay?” Idris peered at me in concern.

“Yeah, I—” My phone rang. Bryce. “Hang on,” I said then hit the answer button for the hands-free. “Hey, Bryce.”

“Mzatal is here,” Bryce said over the car speakers, voice low and strained. “Where are you?”

“Wait, what?” I blurted before my brain could get into gear. “Here where? There? At the house?” Well, that explains why I can feel him! I thought in shock.

Idris stared at me with wide-eyed dismay. The valve? he mouthed. I could only reply with a helpless shrug. Surely Mzatal wouldn’t risk destabilizing the pond valve by passing through it? Yet I couldn’t think of any other explanation for how he could be here on Earth.

The next voice we heard was Mzatal’s. “Zharkat. Where are you?”

Idris flapped his hands and then grabbed his head in a What the holy crapping hell is going on, and is he insane??? gesture that I had no trouble translating. I’d have done the same thing if not for the pesky fact that I was driving.

“I’m less than a minute away!” I said as I punched the gas. “You used the valve?”

“To reach you. I await you on the nexus.”

I clamped down on colorful language as I sped along the highway. “Stay put right there!” I jammed the button to hang up in order to better pay attention to driving.

The instant I disconnected Idris let out a strangled noise. “He must have felt it was worth the risk to stress the valve like that,” he said, aghast as he fought to rationalize Mzatal’s actions. He gulped and shook his head. “I guess he really needs you for something?”

A lump of unease took up residence in my stomach. What could have driven Mzatal to such an extreme? “We need to barricade that valve,” I said. “And by ‘we’ I mean you and Pellini. I’m going to have to try and explain what needs to be done based on what Kadir taught me at the plantation about creating a barricade seal. As soon as Mzatal leaves we can do that. Otherwise we’re going to have lords dropping in right and left until the damn thing ruptures. Kadir said it would be disastrous, and we don’t need any more—” I cut off my stream of babbling as I punched the remote for the gate, cursing as the thing swung open at a snail’s pace. The instant I had sufficient clearance I zoomed through then remembered Pellini on the bike behind me. “Crap. Pellini has no clue why I’m driving like a maniac,” I said as I raced up the driveway. “Will you explain?”

Idris said something I assumed was a yes, but it was drowned out by the spray of gravel as I careened to a stop in front of the house. I threw off my seatbelt, jumped out of the truck and took off toward the backyard at a run.

Mzatal stood on the nexus, feet planted wide and hands clasped behind his back. His eyes locked onto me as I came into sight. He looked glorious and badass, dressed in black silk trousers and tunic with shimmering patterns of blood red. I wanted to be angry and demand a reason for why the hell he’d risked the valve, but instead I ran to the center of the nexus and threw my arms around him with a sob.

The smell of smoke and sulfur surrounded him like a cologne of Badass as he swept me into an embrace. Abruptly aware of my own far less sexy aroma, I tried to pull away, but he held me close, his mouth finding mine. Our connection flared into full presence, and my petty worries about my unwashed state dropped away. I held him close and kissed him with desperate passion, lost myself in it and in him. The bond engulfed me, and I opened fully, sharing with him all the despair and pain of the days since I’d seen him last. His love met mine, merged into a joyous union as we held each other close.

After an eternity I broke the kiss, pulled back enough to search his face. “Boss,” I said, speaking the word as the endearment it was. “Why are you here?”

“Eilahn came to me but moments ago as I engaged an anomaly in Rhyzkahl’s realm,” Mzatal said, voice low but no less intense. “She told me of your grievous plight—the sundering of your arcane senses.” His eyes remained on mine as he stroked the backs of his fingers over my cheek then pushed a strand of hair from my temple. “I saw you in shadow form on Rhyzkahl’s terrace not a full day ago, and within hours he sent a woman to me with no explanation.” Deep concern darkened his eyes as he read the details from me. “You have an agreement with him.” His tone held no jealousy or accusation, only worry and a desire to protect me.

“I do what I must,” I said with a slight quaver.

“I cannot restore your abilities, zharkat,” he said. Frustration and deep regret filled the bond. “Perhaps later I will be able to—”

“It’s all right,” I said. Strangely enough, it was. My abilities weren’t a priority at the moment. I caressed him through our bond and cupped his cheek in one hand. “Beloved.” I drew a shuddering breath. “You shouldn’t have come here.” He’d abandoned the other lords during a crisis and traveled through an unstable valve because he was worried about me. In the scope of one wavelength of light, the act was a priceless, romantic gesture. But within the full spectrum, it bordered on self-serving madness. During the plantation battle, Rhyzkahl had taunted M

zatal that I would be his downfall. I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but now I understood.

Pain deepened the shadows in his face. “How could I not when you are at such risk?” His awareness of his folly resonated through the bond, as did more: He didn’t want to be the Mzatal who could set aside worry for me—or others. That Mzatal was closed to such petty distractions. Closed to all but that which served to achieve his goals.

Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Your world is at greater risk than I am. Both our worlds are.” I placed my hands on his chest, gathered the silk of his tunic into my fingers. “Oh, Mzatal,” I breathed. “I saw you. I watched you engage the anomaly and lead the other lords. You were brilliant, and I have never loved you more or been more proud.” I clung to him, held him close by my grip on the silk. My throat clogged to where I could barely speak. “That’s who you need to be, for the sake of our worlds. Without distractions.” He drew breath to protest, but I rushed to continue. “Because of the love we hold for each other, we must both fully commit to our causes, or else all will be lost, and that love will be for nothing.” My heart screamed at me to stop at that and speak no more, but I plunged on. “You can’t hope to succeed in this without your blade.” Essence-deep agony flared with my words. “You must call Khatur and . . . fully commit.” I wept openly as he wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

“Zharkat, I cannot.” A shiver passed through him, of denial, of horror. Fully commit. Terrible implications echoed within the two words. “I cannot.” His voice broke. Closing off was a desolate and isolated prison of his own making, near as dire as the submersion Szerain endured.

And I had to convince him to step into the cell and lock the door behind him. “We fight a war on two different fronts.” I reached for the thick rope of his braid, drew it over his shoulder and gave it a tug. Desperate emotion twisted his face at the simple gesture that meant so much to us. A secret and wicked joy, a shared passion. Dying inside, I released the braid. “We . . . we had our time in the sun, but we dare not indulge any longer. Not if our worlds are to stand a chance of survival.”

“Zharkat—”

“You always do what is needed, beloved,” I said in little more than a whisper. I tipped my head up to his. “You must do this. We must do this.” I swallowed. “Together we can do anything.” Even if we aren’t together.

A long sigh shuddered from him. He cradled my head to his chest and remained still for a long moment. When he spoke, the words flowed through the connection and resonated through my skull.

“It is the only way.”