Addison flung through the air like a ragdoll before plummeting into the pool below. As she was swallowed beneath the water’s surface, she swore she’d seen the blurred images of two men … and light, bright light, darting around the cave like reckless fireworks. She flashed back to the moment she’d raised her hands toward Aamon, preparing to do everything in her power to end him once and for all. In that moment, she’d felt a sharp pain tear into the side of her flesh, a pain that hadn’t come from Aamon’s direction.
The water surrounding her was no longer blue. It had turned a rich crimson. But the source of the change hadn’t come from the wound in her side, but instead from her ring. The ring was calling out to her, telling her what she needed to do. She raised the ringed finger above her head and felt its power pulling her toward the surface. Using what little strength she had left, she swam to the side of the pool.
Pausing a moment, she caught her breath and then held her hand in front of her, staring at the ring. It was still aglow, pulsing in and out like it had a heartbeat of its own. Addison was overcome with a feeling of nervousness and inadequacy. The ring was supposed to provide protection from her enemies, from all those who wished to do her harm. And she’d been blindsided at the first real opportunity to use it.
Where was Aamon now?
Was he lurking in the dark, waiting for a second opportunity to strike?
Addison searched the area, her eyes narrowing as she studied every possible nook, cranny, and dark space.
He wasn’t there.
Why isn’t he here?
Where is he?
He wouldn’t leave without her, wouldn’t surrender such a golden opportunity. She was a necessary pawn in his endgame. Hell, she was his endgame. If he wanted to destroy the world, reclaiming it for himself, he needed her to do it. He may have been a man of many faces, but he was also a man who wouldn’t hide—not from the thing he wanted most, not now that he was in possession of the book.
He wouldn’t let her go, not today or any other.
And where was Samael?
She swore it was his voice she’d heard before the chaos ensued.
Could she have been wrong?
Had he stopped her from confronting Aamon?
If so … why?
If he had been there, he wasn’t now.
The cave was silent, and she was alone.
Frustration mounting, Addison pounded a fist on the ground, yelling, “What do you want from me! How do you expect me to stop him, to do what I need to do, if I have no idea how to do it?”
The tempestuous rage within her was desperate to get out. She’d felt the full weight of it for the first time today, the moment Aamon confessed to the murder of her mother. How was she to fight for the light if she couldn’t control the darkness—
her darkness?
Addison pushed herself out of the water and hunched over, wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her head between them.
There must be a way to defeat him.
There must be a way, and I must find it.
I will find it.
Aamon had something she didn’t—centuries of time to learn and grow, to wield his magic, perfect his craft.
The cave’s light began to fade, smoke permeating its chamber like a thick, heavy mist, coating it in black. From the darkness a speck of light appeared, a small white orb, beaming brighter and brighter as it drifted toward her. The orb expanded as it neared, the cave becoming rich with its vibrance.
“Addison, it’s time for you to rise. Rise now and take my hand.”
The voice—it was so feminine, so familiar.
A voice she hadn’t heard for a long time.
It can’t be.
It’s … impossible.
“Look at me, Addison,” the woman said. “It’s all right. I am here for you now.”
Addison glanced up, her eyes brimming with tears as she stared into the face of the woman standing before her.
“Mom?”