Chapter 30

The priests continued their dizzying walk around the circle, chanting in a dark monotone. Michael swayed as he entered into a trance. Catlyn kept her eyes averted from the tray of grisly implements standing nearby.

The Goddess Hecate floated into her consciousness. Hecate touched the center of Catlyn’s forehead and whispered into her ear. As the priest’s chant grew louder, Catlyn began singing a counterpoint to it under her breath. Her chant was in the same language Hecate had spoken. Catlyn didn’t consciously know what the murmured words and sounds meant; but she knew on a deep, subconscious level that she had cast a spell of protection—and something more. Maak added her power to the spell.

Catlyn glanced to the circle where Michael’s blood had crossed it. A small crack weakened the energy of the dome at that point. She thanked Hecate for the opportunity, then concentrated on opening it even more. Sean needed to get in when the time came.

The air became thicker, making it harder to breathe. More than the smoke from the incense created the noisome fug in the room.

“They are creating a denser atmosphere, more like Bho-Ahp’s plane of existence,” Maak explained. “If we are unsuccessful, it will give him time to acclimate to the lighter gravity and higher vibrations of Earth.”

It made sense. Catlyn hoped she hadn’t put herself into this position just to fail. She bent her head and focused on her chant. The pricking of a knife on her skin startled her. Michael slit open her forearm and held a chalice under the cut to catch the blood. When it was about half-full, he turned to the altar.

He lifted the cup high in offering. “Great Bho-Ahp! I bring to you an offering of blood. May it give you strength to walk on this plane.” He brought it to his lips.

“May you choke on it!” Catlyn glared at the chalice.

Michael stalked to her and backhand her. Her head flew back, and her lip split.

“How dare you,” he raged. “You will not mock this ceremony!”

He returned to the altar.

As he lifted the chalice to his lips, Catlyn whispered, “May it bring about your destruction!”

Michael took a drink, a large gulp, and choked. As he sputtered and coughed, Catlyn couldn’t help a smug smile from creeping onto her face. He tried drinking her blood again, only to gag on it. After the third time, he gave up and poured it out in the center of the circle, mumbling under his breath. He made a circling motion with his hand; the blood followed his movement to form a smaller circle within the larger one.

“The portal will open inside the inner circle,” Maak said.

Catlyn stifled a groan. She would be the main course when Bho-Ahp crossed. Michael turned back to her. His evil grin spoke of unimaginable torture. She quickly chanted the pain blocking spell Maak had taught her. Her agony was about to begin.

He picked up something from his tray, leaned down, and grasped her left foot. She screamed as he broke first one toe, then another, until he broke all of them. Heat assailed the bottom of her foot, and the horrible stink of charring flesh filled her nose. She closed her eyes and escaped into her mind, continuing to chant as Michael assaulted her body.

After leaving the town of Joshua Tree, Sean drove through an alien countryside filled with nothing but sand, sagebrush, and Joshua trees. They’d left all signs of civilization behind them, and Sean shuddered at the eerie emptiness. As a city boy, he rarely ventured into the rural areas.

They drove for miles on bumpy, dirt roads. As his undercarriage rubbed on yet another rut, Sean wished they’d brought Charlie’s big Chevy truck rather than his low-to-the-ground Camaro. The beeping of his tracking device growing louder kept him going. Catlyn definitely was in this area.

Then it went silent.

“What the hell happened?” he screamed at Charlie.

“I don’t know. It just stopped working.” Charlie picked up his cellphone, tried to call Jade, then put it back in his shirt pocket. “No service. There isn’t any cellphone service out here in the boonies. That must be what’s wrong.”

“Great. How are we going to find her?” Sean stopped, lowering his head to the steering wheel, trying to breathe through the tightness in his throat. A tidal wave of fear crashed over him. What horrendous torture was Catlyn enduring while they searched? Would they arrive in time to save her? At this point, he wasn’t concerned about stopping the daemon; he only wanted to discover Catlyn alive.

The van behind them honked, drove off the road, and pulled up beside them. Sean rolled down his window, coughing at the cloud of dust. He peered at Jade. “My signal died. Do you have her?”

Jade gave him a thumbs up. “A surge of energy hit me at the same time. She can’t be too far. We’re on the right road, if you can call it that.”

“I’ll follow you, since your spell is working.”

“Are you sure you want to continue driving that thing on this road?” Jade contemptuously sneered at his Camaro. “You can leave your car here and ride with us. It should be okay. This road doesn’t get much, if any, traffic.”

Sean shook his head. He’d go crazy if he didn’t have his hands on the wheel and focusing on driving. Otherwise, his mind kept conjuring all manner of torture Catlyn could be—probably was—going through.

They continued on, the sun dropping lower on the horizon. Finally, a tiny house appeared ahead of them.

“This can’t be it.” Sean frowned as they stopped in the yard where the dirt road ended in front of the shack. He climbed out of the car and stretched, tired from sitting so long. Jade, Eileen, and the others clambered from the vans.

“This is it,” Jade assured them. “This is where Catlyn and Michael are. They must be underground.”

Sean switched on his witch-sight. Strange symbols appeared, glowing a sickly green. They covered the walls and several feet of the ground surrounding the house.

“This is definitely it.” Eileen settled her sword harness over her hips. “There are demon sigils and spells protecting this place.” She flung a hand out to stop Sean. “Not yet. Let me take these down or you’ll be fried—literally.”

His grandmother held out her hands, and a mist of golden light formed around them. She drew several symbols in the air, the golden light swirling like the afterglow of sparklers, but these were so bright they hurt his eyes.

“Barra!” Eileen commanded in a language Sean didn’t know. “Me peta babka. Me salamu tebu.” The golden sigils zoomed to the house, blanketing it with their light. The sickly green ones blinked once, then vanished.

Eileen dusted off her hands. “Now it’s safe. It shouldn’t have warned those inside, but be ready in case it did.” She drew her crystal sword from its sheath.

The other Sentinels had also drawn crystal daggers or swords in a rainbow of colors. The tall cactus surrounding them took on eerie shapes from the setting blood-red sun. Sean shuddered as evil seemed to crawl in the shadows.

Jade led the way to the shack, her crystal dagger glowing a pale lavender. Carefully easing the door open, she peered inside, then motioned for the others to follow her. Sean slipped in behind her, frowning at the odd room which only contained a staircase leading below ground. The Sentinels quietly crept down the steep concrete stairs.

After a few steps, Sean caught the faint sound of men chanting in a strange language. The air stank of the same noxious incense he’d smelled many times before. His heart fluttered with hope. If the ritual was still in progress, they weren’t too late.

Jade held up her hand and Sean froze. She drew a sigil in the air, her magic making it glow a dark indigo. “Masku,” she intoned, quietly. She turned to Sean and whispered, “Now we’re concealed. They shouldn’t see or sense us until we’re ready for them.”

Sean nodded and slunk down the remaining stairs, trying not to make any noise, still unsure how magic worked. He paused at the bottom to take in the large chamber. A pentagram painted in red filled the center, and symbols blanketed the walls.

Two figures inside the circle held his attention. Catlyn hung limply from a chain holding her shackled hands over her head. Blood covered her from head to toe. Her eyes were swollen shut from the beatings she’d endured. Michael stood in front of her, carving something into her skin with a long, flexible blade.

Sean gritted his teeth, clamping down on the urge to rush Michael and stop Catlyn’s torture. If he did, she’d have suffered for nothing. They were here for more than rescuing Catlyn.

Sean felt a gentle push, and he moved aside to let Charlie and the other Sentinels enter. Sean inched toward the circle as the Sentinels silently filed into the room. They surrounded the twelve robed men, who looked like monks and paced around the circle, chanting. Madness—and passionate fervor—gleamed in Michael’s eyes. Evil rolled off him in putrid waves, filling the space with its repugnance.