WILL LEANED AGAINST his design table, needing its support as Stone reported in. A report redundant to what he’d seen on the SWAT team’s body cams.
Stone’s people had found nothing. They’d searched every floor. All they discovered was that the abandoned hospital was just that. Abandoned.
On the screen, Stone stood on the lawn behind the hospital. Past him, his men talked in groups. Early morning sunshine lit the scene, bright and cheery as if mocking Will’s mood.
“Nobody’s been inside for a couple of years,” Stone said. “Dust everywhere. No signs of disturbance. Sorry, Will. Looks like a bogus lead.”
Will rubbed his face. He didn’t understand. The hospital’s interior matched what Fader had shown him in Dream. Matched perfectly. This was the place. And yet it wasn’t.
Had Marell and Morrigan fled, taking their prisoners with them? He could ask Case and Fader tonight in Dream. But they were all running out of time.
A sound pulled his attention back. Sirens. Stone shouted to his men. The sirens got louder.
“Stone! What’s happening?”
“Weapons down!” Stone shouted. “Weapons DOWN! NOW!”
“Stone!”
“Police,” Stone said. “I’m dropping this connection and wiping my phone. We used a private satellite link. Nothing’s traceable back to you.” Behind him, police cars were approaching fast, lights flashing, sirens getting louder and louder.
“Sorry, boss.” Stone’s connection went dead. The scene on the screen disappeared, replaced again by Adi’s hospital room.
Will collapsed on the couch, burying his face in his hands. Yeshe a prisoner, dying. Adi hurt, maybe dying. Case and Fader still prisoners, still missing. The raid a bust. Stone’s team arrested.
His worst fear had come true. He was the only person left to stop a crazed super villain.
And he didn’t have the slightest clue what to do.
MORRIGAN BACKED AWAY from where Marell-Karmalov lay, hands raised before her face. The web of a shielding spell hung between her fingers protecting her from the fire.
The astral fire now blazing within Marell.
She was in no danger but needed to dim the blaze to see what was happening. Her lioness had done its job well. It had carried Marell’s long-lost astral fragment deep into the Marell-Karmalov body. And released it.
Marell had been right. Once free, the missing piece flew to his incomplete astral body like iron filings to a magnet. The reunion was immediate.
And explosive. On the astral plane, that is.
To her magical sight, Marell’s restored astral body flamed like a miniature sun inside him. Brighter than she ever remembered. Even brighter than when they’d met. Brighter than when he’d first faced Yeshe years ago.
Had time dimmed her memory? She suspected another reason. Over the years, Marell had continued to gain knowledge of the astral planes. He’d trained himself, honing his astral skills. Simply put, years of study and practice had magnified his astral form.
Restored, Marell was stronger than ever before.
Still unconscious, Marell writhed on the bed. Inside him, his spirit flamed even brighter. Stepping back farther from the blaze, she bumped against the other bed where Yeshe lay. Turning, she was surprised to see his chest still rose and fell, weak but steady.
For now. Marell, now restored, would kill Yeshe. For fear of the monk’s powers. For revenge.
For enjoyment.
And he would kill the old man slowly and painfully. Because he could. Because that was who he was.
A vision of Fader floated before her. She made a decision, one surprising her even as she acted on it. Laying a hand on Yeshe’s forehead, she spoke in her mind to the monk, not knowing if he heard her.
Yeshe Norbu, once holder of the Golden Throne, you were a valiant and worthy foe. For that, you won my respect. For that, I grant you this mercy.
She summoned a spell, used many times over the years. She cast it into the monk. With her magical sight, she watched as a golden hand wrapped long fingers around Yeshe’s still beating heart.
And squeezed. Gently, almost lovingly.
Yeshe’s eyes flew open. He gasped in a breath. And another. His body spasmed. His back arched up from where he lay. He collapsed. A final breath escaped his cracked lips in one long sigh. His chest did not rise again.
The monk was dead.
She searched for Yeshe’s astral spirit, which would flee his dead body. To no avail. Gone from this plane? She shrugged. If not yet gone, it soon would be, beginning its journey to the Realms of the Dead. Disconnected from a living body, no astral form could remain long on the physical plane.
Closing the old man’s eyes, she brushed a long strand of white hair from his face, mystified by the wave of sadness washing over her.
“Morrigan!” It was Karmalov’s voice, from behind her.
She turned. The mercenary stood on the far side of the bed where he’d lain. Karmalov’s voice, yes, but not Karmalov.
Marell-Karmalov gazed down at his body, flexing his arms. A delicious thrill ran up her as the man’s bare chest rippled in response. Yes, a fine choice for her lover’s new host.
“Strong in body,” Marell said, a huge smile on Karmalov’s face. “But what of the spirit?” He closed his eyes. His expression went blank, and she knew he was projecting his restored astral body. What would he find? Seconds passed.
His eyes flew open. Throwing his head back, he laughed, long and loud. No matter who he occupied, she could always recognize his laugh. A sound of pleasure without joy, triumph without mercy. It was, she realized, a cold thing. “Marell? Are you…?”
“Complete,” he whispered. “After all these years, I am whole once more.”
She waited. For a word of praise, of thanks. A mention of her role in his victory. In their victory. But Marell only stood there, new hands raised before his new face as he clenched and unclenched his fingers.
He lowered his hands. “I must test my abilities.”
“Test?” she said, chewing on her resentment.
“Yes. Bring me someone. Someone to inhabit.”
“We have one street boy left. Insurance, had the monk’s retrieval been delayed.” Or had her spells failed. But she didn’t say that.
“One boy? Only one?”
She shrugged. “If anything had gone wrong with the monk, Stayne and Stryke could have acquired more on short notice.”
Marell moved around the bed to stare down at her from new eyes. She battled an urge to step back. She’d grown accustomed to looking down at him as his hosts grew younger and younger. Karmalov was a head taller than her. She felt intimidated by Marell’s new body. And his restored powers.
Intimidated? No. Afraid. She’d never feared Marell before.
“That is not what I meant,” he said. “There is another, is there not?”
She understood. “Not the child.”
Marell’s jaw muscles clenched. He stepped even closer. “You refuse me?” His breath was warm and sour in her face.
Drawing herself up to full height, she met his gaze with narrowed eyes. “Not the child.”
A touch on her mind. So soft, so brief she wondered if she imagined it. Had he dared? Had he probed her? Her? Morrigan the Bright?
Instinct took over. Her skin tingled with the runes of a stun spell, their glow reflecting in Marell’s face.
Marell’s eyes widened. His lip curled. Her left arm prickled as she prepared to cast the spell. His eyes flicked to the symbols on her arm. He stepped back. “Fine. Keep your little plaything.” Grabbing Karmalov’s shirt from the bed, he pulled it on. “Bring me the other one. But I’ll need more subjects. I must prepare. I must be ready.”
The spell’s tingle faded. Her anger did not. “Stayne and Stryke will collect more from the streets. I’ll bring the other boy now.” As she stalked to the door, a thought struck her. She smiled. Yes, that would be fun. She turned back. “Actually, I do have a second subject for you.”
Marell raised one eyebrow, waiting.
“That is,” she said, “if you’re not fussy about gender.”