With a hiss of displeasure, Junga clenched her human hands into fists until the nails dug into flesh. Blood dripped down her palms and onto the ballroom floor.
“They failed.” She repeated what the messenger had just told her. “Za and Hur failed to retrieve the witch.”
The messenger bowed, and in her fury, Junga had the urge to rip out his throat with one swipe of her Fomorii claws.
“Don’t kill the messenger,” came Elizabeth’s voice in her mind. Junga had the insane desire to laugh. These humans had the damnedest aphorisms.
“Change to Fomorii.” Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. “Guard the witches.”
Making sure her warriors were in their natural forms would protect them from any of the Fomorii who might need a good meal once summoned. The demons had also captured more stray humans for that—anyone they found alone and vulnerable.
The messenger bowed again. He shifted into his gangling orange form and retreated, a definite hurry to his lope as he crossed the ballroom and joined the guard standing before the witches.
Junga held her stance for a moment, trying to ignore the sick feeling at the pit of her belly that hit her at the realization that Za was dead.
No. He was simply another Fomorii. His death meant nothing to her.
But the ache in her chest was so great she almost stumbled. For the first time in her life she felt an incredible sadness weigh her down at the loss of one of her comrades.
With her fingertips, she wiped wetness that had formed at one eye. What was wrong with her?
It had to be this damnable human body.
Straightening her shoulders and raising her chin, she forced her attention back to the preparations for the summoning.
They now had twelve warlocks, counting the new converts and the Balorite priest. The Fomorii had not been able to convince one more to participate, despite threats and beatings, and Darkwolf’s seductive skills.
Junga intended to find Silver Ashcroft and hold her as hostage to force the equally powerful Victor and Moondust Ashcroft to join the summoning. She had tried threatening to kill one of them if the other did not aid her, but both said they would rather die.
She growled low in her throat. She was certain things would be different if she captured Silver. By threatening to kill either of her parents, she would ensure the aid of at least Silver. Yes, by threatening her parents, no doubt Silver would turn.
Darkwolf had informed her that the witch had started down the path already.
One little shove.
Good. Very good.
Raising her head, Junga moved closer to the circle with the now black-robed witches, who would soon become warlocks as they gave themselves to the dark.
Off to the side, the Ashcrofts were propped against each other behind the magical shield, both bruised from their beatings, but both refusing to participate.
Junga’s lips curled, baring her teeth.
She clenched her hands again, until she almost cried out from the pain. She turned her gaze toward the twenty or so humans the Fomorii had quietly hunted down and brought back to the hotel.
The humans huddled at the center of the ballroom where they were guarded by several demons. Some of the people were quiet, fear glazing their eyes. Others cried, and there were those who even shouted to be freed.
The pathetic beings would be food for the summoned Fomorii, to avoid the deaths of any of the warlocks.
She gathered herself and brought her attention to the warlock priest. With the membrane between Underworld and this world so thick, it would be difficult to bring anything but a small number of Fomorii to this world with a summoning. But the Balorite priest was certain it was possible, if the number of cooperating witches and warlocks was enough.
Darkwolf started the summoning at a new location in the ballroom. Again he took his crystal-tipped black wand and burned an eye into the floor. Again he called for a human sacrifice that covered the floor with blood. Again he drew a circle around the witches.
Black fire shot up from the ring being burned into the floor and the dancing flames almost mesmerized Junga. The ritual fascinated her as much this time as it had the last.
Fascinated yet horrified her.
The initiation and summoning ceremonies were nearly identical to the others, and Junga sent a prayer to Balor that this one would work.
Yet at the same time she flinched from the thought of serving a god that was truly evil. The Fomorii—they did as they were meant to. Conquer and spread their numbers. This—this evil caused her skin to crawl.
No doubts. No fears. They were who they were.
The Fomorii. Mighty. Strong. And not evil.
Darkwolf chanted to the dark forces of the world, and of the universe. They were Balor’s warlocks, his children, calling upon the great one-eyed god for his aid in this most important moment.
Impossibly, this ceremony seemed more impressive than the last. Stronger, harsher. The power in the air was like electricity, searing through one being after another. Junga felt it in her body and her heart.
The low-hanging fog that grew around the warlocks’ feet carried the odor of burned wood. Then the stench of something much worse filled the room. Like death and decay. The more the warlocks chanted, the stronger it became.
The sense of evil filling the room was more palpable this time, so much so that Junga’s heart stuttered.
The room shook and shuddered so hard that Junga heard Elizabeth’s voice shouting in her mind, Earthquake. Like the enormous one in 1989.
Real terror was in that voice, which frightened Junga as much as the rocking of the room, the sway of the chandeliers. Mirrors cracked. Shattered. Witches, as well as the humans huddled at the center of the room, screamed.
Despite the fact she stumbled in her human form, Junga maintained a sense of pride that her warriors didn’t move. They dug their mighty claws into the floor to keep from sliding or falling in the bucking room. By the twitch of their eyes she could see their terror was as great as her own, but they maintained their posts.
Strange thoughts flickered through her mind as the bucking seemed to continue forever. Was this lone room rocking within a still hotel? Or was the hotel trembling within a silent city? Or was the entire city being shaken to its core?
A chunk of ceiling plaster landed on Junga’s head and she almost fell to the floor. For a moment, her sight blurred from the pain of it. She shook her head and saw more plaster raining from the ceiling. Dust joined other smells in the room.
The black fire had grown so large Junga could barely see the now twelve warlocks within its heated core. Her eyes watered from the smoke, dust, and incense.
The swaying figures continued chanting, the sound merging with the splinter of wood, the crack of mirrors, the thudding of plaster. Then their voices rose higher and higher, until Junga could hear their words.
“Bring forth the Fomorii, let it be done. Harbingers of the dark rule to come.”
Air stirred. The room’s rocking began to slow.
Junga straightened. Blood pounded so hard in her veins that it vibrated through her.
Black light flickered throughout the room like lightning in a boiling thunderstorm. Shapes began to appear around the circle of warlocks. Wavering at first. Becoming solid, then transparent again.
“Bring forth the Fomorii, let it be done. Harbingers of the dark rule to come,” the chanting continued, so loud Junga’s ears rang with it
The shapes surrounding the warlocks solidified. Enormous demon shapes. Fomorii. Greater than the number that had made the crossing with Junga.
The rocking of the room stopped. Sounds of crying and screams of the humans faded to moans and sobs. Only an occasional thud of ceiling plaster broke the silence. Flames around the circle slowly died as Junga looked from Fomorii to Fomorii to Fomorii. All great warriors she recognized.
Including Queen Kanji. Who looked at Junga, obviously recognizing her even though she was in her human form.
But the Old One—she was not with the others. A shiver erupted beneath Junga’s skin.
Furious at herself for allowing any fear to enter her mind, Junga stiffened and growled at Bane to guard the witches and set the disposable human prey free.
Fomorii always enjoyed a good chase.