27

 

 

 

“You sure about this?” Tyrius shifted on the floor next to me in my apartment, his tension becoming more obvious as his tail slashed behind him in quick successions.

“I am,” I said, sitting on my heels with my knees pressed against my living room floor. I had lost the grimoire, but Tyrius, being Tyrius, had a photographic memory. With his help I was able to draw the summoning circle and write down the spell to conjure the archdemon.

Only last night, Tyrius had been hit with a dark curse, but he had recovered really quickly in less than twenty-four hours, which was the only reason I’d allowed him to come with me. Kora had stayed to watch over Gareth as he got his strength back. He was exhausted and I had a feeling some dark magic had penetrated his magic-proof trench coat.

The cat cocked his head and sighed heavily. “Carry on.”

I had already poured the salt around the Seal of Solomon sigil, which was a circle within a closed triangle, with three additional demonic symbols drawn inside each triangle corner. It was the usual sigil to summon all demons and I drew it from memory.

As such, I knew what came next. My fingers trembled and sweat beaded on my forehead as I lit three candles and placed them on top of the three demon symbols inside the triangle corners.

Next came the mirror. With my heart pounding madly, I shifted my hips and grabbed the same oval-shaped mirror from my bathroom I had used to summon Degamon in the middle of the Seal of Solomon.

I was struck with the sudden overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. This whole situation felt similar to when I’d summoned the Greater demon Degamon.

“You think he’ll show up?” asked the cat, his brow raised in question.

“He’ll show up,” I nodded. “He gave us his name, remember?” Lucian, I repeated in my head. “He has no choice. I have his true name. I could just as easily summon him by simply saying it.” Degamon had been pissed when I’d summoned him. It was only logical to assume Lucian would be... well... it was going to get ugly. But my mind was made up. I was doing this.

Tyrius leaned back on his hind legs. “You’ve got this all figured out. Don’t you?”

“Don’t patronize me, Tyrius.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling another migraine on its way from lack of sleep and food. Maybe I should have stayed with Gareth one more day. His bed was comfy. “I’m doing the best I can.” This was going to work. It had to.

Tyrius pressed his paw on my thigh. “I know. Just... just be careful and don’t give him anything personal. He’ll use it against you.”

“I don’t think he wants to hurt me,” I said, hoping I was right. God, I hope I’m right.

“You never know,” he replied. “You don’t know what’s in that archdemon head of his. Who truly knows why he wanted to help you in the first place. Very, un-demon like if you ask me. Archdemons are notoriously self-centered. Their giant egos were one of the reasons why they fell from Horizon. There’s something in it for him. I know it.”

My eyebrows rose and I looked at him. “You’re a demon and you help me all the time,” I said, giving the cat a pointed look.

The baal demon shrugged. “We’re besties. Totally not the same.”

I leaned back and exhaled. All that was left now was to write Lucian’s name with my blood on the mirror and say the incantation, which I’d written on a piece of paper with Tyrius’s help.

The cat took a breath and said, “He’s going to be pissed that you’re summoning him in a circle.”

My eyebrows rose, and I stifled a shiver. “Probably. I’m hoping he’ll look past that.” Hoping that an archdemon, though my father, wouldn’t kill me once he realized that I had bound him to a summoning circle—was stretching it. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

“You sure about this gift thing?” Tyrius said between yawns, and guilt hit me hard. He shouldn’t even be here. He should be with Kora resting at Gareth’s with a belly full of pizza. “Didn’t he say it was a one-time offer only?” added the cat.

“He did,” I answered, my tension rising. “But he’s an archdemon. And I think he lied.”

“I did,” said a polished voice.

Heart in my throat, I whirled around on my knees—and froze.

Lucian stood in my kitchen. He wore a tailored three-piece gray suit made of the finest silk. The soft yellow light from my kitchen gleamed on his dark slick hair. His blood-red eyes rested on me, making me shiver. Smoke coiled to the ceiling as he toasted me with his cigarette and took a puff while showing me his straight teeth.

Damn. I was neck-deep in doo-doo this time. There was an archdemon in my kitchen and I wasn’t protected by the Seal of Solomon sigil. There was nothing I could do but pray to the souls he still wanted to help me, and not hack me apart like a piñata.

“Demon balls!” screeched Tyrius as he leaped on his feet, his fur brisling like he’d been electrocuted. “How did he get here?” asked the cat, pulling the question right out of my mouth.

“I heard you call my name,” said Lucian, smiling as he took in the rest of my apartment. “You need a new decorator. No wonder you’re still single. Who would want to stay the night in this 1970s atrocity?”

Alarmed, my lips parted. “You heard me call your name in my head.” Holy, shit. What have I done?

“I did.” Lucian opened my kitchen cupboard and started to look through it. “I’m your father. As such, we share a psychic connection, you and I. You are connected to me, as I am connected to you. Think of it like a land line, a one-way caller.” He closed the cabinet door. “You’re very messy,” he said as he turned around and leaned on the kitchen counter, his cigarette between his fingers.

My eyebrows rose, and I stifled a cold shiver as it licked up my spine. My eyes darted to the Seal of Solomon. Damn. No use in trying to cover it up.

“Nice circle,” commented Lucian as he took a drag of his cigarette. “Was that for me?” He blew out a long shoot of gray smoke.

“Rowyn,” warned Tyrius, and I reached out and put my hand on his back, entwining my fingers through his fur.

“It’s okay, Tyrius,” I soothed, though my skin prickled in goose bumps.

Lucian pushed off the kitchen counter and came forward. “Not bad for an amateur,” said the archdemon, his face creasing in thought. He straightened and looked down at me. “Don’t do it again.” He ran his cigarette-holding hand over his slick hair. “It never ends well for the summoner. But I’ll let this one go, just this once.” He snapped his fingers. There was a pop of displaced air. And with a sudden burst of wind, the Seal of Solomon sigil was gone. And so were the candles and my mirror.

My shoulders stiffened. I pushed myself on my feet, not liking that the archdemon was staring down at me. I wanted to stare at him face to face, leveled. But the real reason was I didn’t want him to see that he scared the crap out of me.

The thought of telling the archdemon about the other Unmarked rose through me, but then I shoved it out of my head. If he hadn’t sensed them by now, maybe he never would.

“I’m assuming you’ve changed your mind about my gift?” said Lucian, gesturing with his cigarette. Gray ashes fell from the tip and dissolved before they hit the floor.

I swallowed. “I have.”

Lucian’s wide smile was terrifying. “I’m very pleased, daughter.”

I winced. “Rowyn. Please call me Rowyn.”

The archdemon lost a little of his smile. “I knew with enough time, you’d come around.” Lucian flicked the butt of his cigarette on the ground and blew out a mouthful of smoke. I watched amazed as the cigarette butt dissolved before it hit the floor. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his metal cigarette case. “This gift is your birthright, after all,” he said as he put another cigarette to his lips and lit it. “It belongs to you. You should have it.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Birthright or not, I was still scared shitless. I didn’t want to become a monster, yet I was seduced by the thought of power—power to kick Ethan’s ass.

“Rowyn,” said Tyrius. The worry in his tone made me look at him. “I know I’ve asked you before. But are you really sure you want to go through with this? We still don’t know what it’ll do to you.”

“If it means it can make me stronger, more powerful than Ethan and the others, it’s worth it. I have to do something, Tyrius. I can’t let things go the way they are. You saw what they did to you.”

“Made me a fried kitty,” he said angrily. “A kitty nugget.”

“And they won’t stop.” If I was sure of anything in my life, that was it. “We don’t stand a chance. I’m doing this.”

The cat nodded his head. I knew Tyrius understood seeing as how strong the Unmarked were compared to me, to us. I had no choice.

I met Lucian’s red eyes, forcing myself not to look away. “I’m ready.”

The archdemon came closer and I resisted the urge to take a step back. “Give me your hands,” he said, as he lifted his own palms up. His cigarette had mysteriously disappeared.

Nervous, I tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and fidgeted. “Will it hurt?” I searched the archdemon’s face.

“It will make you stronger.” Lucian let out a frustrated breath and dropped his hands. “This will only work if you are willing to accept the gift freely. It won’t work if you don’t. You must accept wholeheartedly, your soul too.” He hesitated. “Perhaps you’re not ready—”

“I’m ready.” So help me God, I have to be.

“Give me your hands,” instructed the archdemon, raising his again.

I shot a last glance at Tyrius, who looked like he was about to spew some furballs, and slipped my hands over the archdemon’s. His hands were surprisingly warm and smooth like a businessman who spent his days typing on his laptop and talking on the phone.

I flinched as he gripped them hard. My heart was racing, but I pushed my fear back down as I stared into his blood-red eyes. Yikes.

“Do you accept this gift, Rowyn Sinclair?” demanded Lucian in a business-like tone, sounding like he was selling me life insurance. “This gift of power, of darkness, which will give you an arsenal of abilities and strength. Do you accept?”

Here is it. I can never go back now.

I closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I stifled down my nerves, and said, “I accept this gift.”

In a rush, I felt Lucian’s consciousness swoop in and enter mine, making me dizzy. I gasped, almost flinging myself out of his grip, but our hands were cemented together. Even if I wanted to pull away, I couldn’t.

Relax, I heard Lucian’s voice inside my head, and almost immediately I felt myself relax. The archdemon grabbed my consciousness again, only this time he seemed to twine his around mine, rubbing his energies across me.

And then I felt it. The power. The darkness. The gift.

My back arched as the power flooded in me, painful and delicious. It burned, clean and bright and dark, as fire from the gods. It felt like a surge of adrenaline, only a thousand times stronger. Holy shit. Heat soaked into me like an internal flood, first frightening, and then soothing. Power resonated in me, pulsing from me like a wave. It cascaded over my awareness, my body, my soul.

And then it was over.

Lucian let go of my hands, and when I opened my eyes, I saw him beaming like a proud father, a lit cigarette hanging on his lips. I saw relief in his features and his posture, like he’d half expected this transfer of power to go badly. Maybe he’d thought I would explode or something. I narrowed my eyes as he took a drag off his cigarette. Something else flickered behind his eyes that I couldn’t read.

I stood for a moment, trying to catch my breath. I was a little dizzy, but it hadn’t been as bad as I’d anticipated.

“Rowyn?” came Tyrius’s scared voice.

I looked down at the cat, trying not to react to the fear that reflected in his blue eyes.

“I’m okay,” I told him, panting, and I gave him a genuine smile. “I feel fine.” I creased my brow. I felt different, like an added weight on my soul. There, inside me, churning now, my body shook with the building force of it as it searched for a way out. Whether this was a dark gift or one of light, it didn’t matter. It was power. And I was going to use it.

My lips curled and I whispered, “Your ass is mine, Ethan.”