Chapter 31

Catlyn didn’t know how long the torment lasted. It could have been hours or days. The only break from the agony came in the brief moments when Michael chose a different method to torture her.

And still she chanted.

It was that or be consumed by the evil spilling from Michael. Hecate’s spell kept the vileness from penetrating her soul through the various cuts and wounds in her body.

When her mouth became too swollen and bloody from his blows, she mentally chanted. Without the focus on the pain blocking spell, she doubted her mind could survive the unrelenting waves of excruciating agony.

She refused to consider what Michael was doing to her. Once she destroyed Bho-Ahp, her work would be finished and she could escape into the death Michael skillfully held at bay. Sadness seeped through the physical pain, intensifying it. She wished she’d had a chance to explore the growing romance with Sean. Now, it would die on the vine. It had shriveled up the moment she agreed to this madness. Even if she somehow survived her present nightmare, their relationship could never bloom. No one would ever look at her again and think her beautiful or want to be intimate with her mangled, disfigured body.

Much later, lost between reality and the edge of unconsciousness, she dimly became aware of Maak feeding her energy and power. Even as her blood dripped to the floor, and she screamed in pain, she grew stronger.

“Sean and the others are here,” Maak’s voice broke through her haze. “It’s time.”

Time for what? She asked, confused.

Deep within her, Catlyn sensed something stir. Power bloomed in her root chakra and wove up her spine. A fresh burst of strength rushed through her, clearing her mind and extinguishing her misery. It was like a shot of adrenaline, but much stronger. The pain encompassing her body receded.

Catlyn began a new chant. At first, no sound slipped through her lips. She licked them, tasting the salty copper of her blood, and tried again. This time, the chant came out in a whisper. Heartened, she raised her head and recited the words, loud and strong.

The monks stopped their own chanting. They paused in their procession around the circle and turned as one to stare at her.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Michael screamed at her. He slammed his fist into her mouth.

She grinned through the fresh flow of blood and continued the spell.

“No, no, no!” He gaped at the small circle of blood, the doorway meant for the daemon’s emergence. “It isn’t time! You’re not ready for Bho-Ahp. He can’t come yet.”

The inner circle glowed. Flames shot up from it, forming a large oval in the air. The portal was opening. The thick, opaque center grew translucent and thinned as Catlyn chanted.

Michael whipped back to her. “Stop! I’m not ready!”

Catlyn continued to call Bho-Ahp through the gate. Movement behind the still staring monks drew her attention. She shook the blood from her eyes. Shadowy forms quietly surrounded the monks. She heard another quiet chant under her own, sounding close by her. Her eyes widened.

Jade stood by the crack in the protective dome, unnoticed by Michael’s followers. She winked at Catlyn and drew a sigil in the air.

Intense heat flared around Catlyn’s ankles, and she squirmed before realizing it hadn’t burned her. She almost lost the thread of her chant when she saw the shackles melting away. Real magic did exist in the world! The heavy iron clanked to the floor.

Michael blinked at it as if dumbfounded at the interruption. The monks whirled around as they finally noticed they weren’t alone in the room.

Chaos bloomed.

Jade continued to burn through the wrist manacles. Catlyn fell as the manacles lost their unrelenting grip on her. New agony erupted when she hit the concrete floor. She crammed the pain behind her block and ignored it. What was one more hurt among the myriad of others?

The rising magic within Catlyn wrapped her in a cocoon of strength. It didn’t heal her body of the terrible wounds inflicted during Michael’s torture, but it allowed her to move as if she were whole. She stood, turning her attention to the portal.

Catlyn took up the chant again to open the portal. Maak’s voice added her power. A sliver tore in the membrane, and an immense form appeared behind the veil.

Pandemonium filled the room as fighting broke out. The monks, suddenly able to see the Sentinel Witches, whipped out long knives from under their robes. They were exactly like the one Michael had when he abducted Catlyn. Heat warmed Sean’s back, reminding him of the crystal dagger he wore.

He jerked it from its sheath. Its pure white light pushed aside the murk. He let his pent-up rage overtake him. A knife swung toward his face.

He blocked it, sparks flying as the blades met. His dagger glowed brighter and seemed to eat into the black metal. Horror filled the monk’s eyes as his blade melted. Sean slammed a fist into his opponent’s face. He fell back, blood spurting from his broken nose. The monk’s fingers twisted, forming dark sigils in the air. Sean’s senses told him he didn’t want those malignant spells hitting him. He plunged his dagger into the monk’s chest. The sigils broke apart and as they fizzled out, a few motes landed on his arm. His flesh sizzled and bubbled, and he whipped his arm behind him, wiping the corrosive ash from the surface of his skin.

A loud pop drew his attention toward the stairway. Two monks conjured a hellish opening. A pack of a dozen of the strange greyhound-cat demons with crocodile tails and owl-like heads burst through. Their master followed, a dark blue-gray hairless creature with an elongated face and tall domed skull. It flicked a whip at its pack of demons. One yelped, letting out a tremendous screech, showing the needle-sharp fangs filling its beak.

A three-foot tall denim blue demon scurried from the opening. It ran-hopped in an ungainly gait due to its one leg hoofed like a goat and the other a skinny crow’s foot. The bells tied across its squat barrel-shaped body jingled. It raced to a witch, prodding him with a two-pronged stick held in its lobster-claw appendage. The witch jerked as if hit by a Taser. Sean blinked at the creature, remembering the incident last month where a man had been pushed into a semi-truck. The veterinarian—and Catlyn—hadn’t lied when they said a demon caused the accident.

More demons scrambled through the hellish opening and attacked the now outnumbered Sentinels.

Sean ignored the demons and fought the monks on his way to the circle. He had to save Catlyn.

His mind gibbered when he saw what was coming through the portal.

Sean truly hadn’t understood the difference between demons and daemons until that moment. Immense power rolled off the creature, who stepped from the gateway. The daemon turned his baleful eyes on Sean. He took an unintentional step toward the daemon, reaching for him as he would a lover. The darkness called to him, beckoning him to drown in its depths. All the other demons Sean had glimpsed were mere puppies compared to this monster.

The daemon laughed, and Sean recognized it as the same one he’d heard at the Iron Maiden Killings.

Michael reached for the daemon.

Horror froze Sean in place. What were we thinking? There’s no way the Sentinel Witches can stop Bho-Ahp. He’s too powerful!

Sean’s grandfather’s medallion warmed against his chest, and at the same time, his crystal knife flared. Its brilliance, and the amulet’s power, broke the daemon’s spell.

Sean gaped.

Catlyn is in the circle with the daemon!