His lover shook her head, her pale blue eyes pleading.

  “You will do as I command. What will it be? Him? Or them?” it said, gesturing at the horrified bystanders.

  Mathias’s eyes met those of the Fae who held his heart. “Do it. Save your people. I have failed.”

  She was given a knife, then slowly made her way to him now. As his robe and shirt were ripped away, she blinked up at him in tears.

  “Know that I will always love you,” he whispered.

  “Live. Live for me,” she pleaded.

  And then with a cry, she made the first long slice across his chest.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  When Mort returned, he brought Katia’s trapping bag with him. Then he handed over her car keys and said the vehicle was parked down the street. How he’d done that she didn’t know, but she thanked him nonetheless.

  “How’d it go?” Riley asked.

  “The spell had weakened by the time I got there. It didn’t take much effort to break it.”

  “He said he’d free them,” Katia said. “And after the portal closed he tried to reopen it, but he couldn’t. Now that I think about it, he was really upset about that.”

  Mort sank into a chair. “The reanimates are staying with Summoner Norman while their families are being notified. Oh, and Mr. Means asked me to thank you, Katia. He said you saved their lives with the Holy Water circle. He told me about how you climbed the shelving and escaped.”

  “Someday you’ll have to tell us the full story,” Riley said.

  Katia gave her a nod and resumed staring at the backyard. In time, Mort drifted inside the house and Riley joined him. While Katia rejoiced that the Deaders were free, each passing hour felt like torture as time continued its relentless march forward. Darkness fell, yet the backyard remained illuminated with soft lighting. Now that it was useless to stare at the sundial Katia stared at nothing at all, hoping for the return of her friend, his sister, and the most powerful necromancer on the East Coast.

  Eventually both her host and Riley returned, sitting nearby, talking quietly among themselves. If they thought she couldn’t hear them, they were wrong.

  “Ozymandias is never gone this long,” Mort said, his voice thick with worry. “Each trip has been harder on him, and it takes him longer to recover.”

  “You think he’ll find them?”

  “He won’t give up until he does, or he’s forced to return. Too long in one of the other realms and your magic fades.”

  “Will he be too weak to cross back here?”

  “It’s possible. In some realms there are things that live on magic. They will devour him.”

  “Oh, God.”

  Katia closed her eyes and began to pray.

  NINETEEN

  The sacred circle was fading, its power ebbing with each passing minute. Simon had tried to create another one but it failed. He tried again with the same result.

  Why had the first one held for as long as it had?

  “We’re running out of time, aren’t we?” his sister asked as the circle’s slow demise was easy to see.

  “I’m thinking so,” he said. Perhaps it was time for more honesty. “You know, I’ve always been in awe of you, Sis.”

  “Me?” Dee replied. “Why?”

  “Because you never allowed anyone to run right over you. Not like me.”

  She laughed as if his suggestion was ridiculous. “Oh, you’re wrong there. So wrong, Simon.”

  Before he could reply there were noises in the forest behind them, followed by a lengthy howl. Then even more howls. Simon took the steel pipe from his sister and rose.

  A beast came out of the woods, shouldering one of the trees aside as if it were a mere nuisance. It stood at least ten feet tall with a pair of spiny heads on long reticulated necks.

  The mouths gaped open and were filled with multiple rows of jagged teeth. Each of the tongues glowed green in the dim light. One of them dropped down to the ground, slid along, and then captured something. A small creature screamed in terror as it was lifted and then dropped inside one of the gaping mouths. Chewing ensued while both heads stared at them, as if sizing up their next meal.

  Simon glanced down to find the circle was gone now. “If we run, it’ll chase us.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  “We’re going to be eaten like that little thing it just snarfed up.”

  “So running away is the plan,” Dee replied as she got to her feet. “Your job really sucks, did I mention that?”

  They began to back up, one slow step at a time. Simon gave a quick look over his shoulder and then swore. A smaller version of the lizard thing had moved in behind them. The first one set up a howl, followed by the second one. Their tails lashed the air and spit flowed out of their mouths.

  “Please tell me they’re going to ignore us and fight each other instead,” she said, her attention swiveling between one threat, and then the other.

  The shift of the larger one to the right, followed by the smaller one going left suggested that his sister might be correct. This might become a fight for dominance. Or a mating dance.

  Simon was about to suggest they angle away from the pair when the bigger beast charged straight at its opponent. The other lizard rushed forward as well, and he was sure they were going to be trampled between the two monsters. Then just as quickly both beasts turned toward him and his sister, eyeing them.

  “Run!” he shouted.

  Dee easily kept up with him, sheer terror making her move at top speed. Behind them came the bellows and the crashes of brush and small trees as the pair of lizards tried to run them down.

  Simon leapt over a thick branch, only to be caught by another branch further on. As he started to fall, Dee caught his arm, yanking him up. A bellow came from ahead of them now, identical to the ones behind them. They were being herded to their deaths.

  “Adler!” A voice shouted. “Adler!”

  Frantic, Simon searched until he found the black robe and the glowing sigil.

  He came for us!

  “This way!” Ozymandias cried out, beckoning.

  They sprinted toward him. There were more beasts on their tail now and Simon swore he could smell their fetid breath. A flash of light heralded the opening of a gateway just as something struck his back. Simon sprawled into the dirt, then stumbled up on all fours, then to his feet to catch up with his sister.

  “Go! Go!” he shouted. At least she might get out of here alive.

  Dee went through the opening first, a small flash of lightning heralding her passage. As he drew closer to the summoner he felt magic build behind him, raising the hairs on his neck.

  Simon dove into their world, Ozymandias on his heels. The moment he had crossed the opening the summoner launched a spell, the sigil on his lordship’s forehead blazing like a lighthouse in a turbulent storm.

  “None shall pass!” he cried, striking the portal with his staff.

  Lightning blazed, thunder roared, and then there was only green grass where there had once been a doorway. Simon fell next to his sister, unable to go any further. His lordship joined them on the ground, panting as if he’d used every bit of his power to bring them home.

  This was Mort’s backyard. They were truly safe.

  Someone cried out his name.

  Katia.

  She was alive, which meant that all his prayers had been answered.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  Caught up in their discussion neither Riley nor Mort had noticed the tiny glimmer of light, how it began as a small dot out of nowhere. But Katia had and she bolted out of the lounger as that small light exploded into a gaping hole.

  Deanna staggered through first, making it a few steps before falling to her knees.

  “Simon?” Katia shouted. But there was no sign of him.

  And then there he was, limping, his face pale, and his clothes torn as he staggered through the doorway.

  “Ozymandias!” Mort shouted, moving closer. “Get out of there!”

  Finally the elder summoner stepped through, then banged his staff against the portal. As it closed something bellowed on the other side, furious at losing its prey.

  They had made it home. Someone had heard her prayers and brought them back.

  “Simon?” Katia called out.

  Riley knelt next to Deanna now, talking to her, then slowly helped her rise. The woman shook, so terrified that she stared at nothing. Then she saw her brother and began to cry.

  Mort put his arm around his lordship’s waist, and with significant effort hefted him up. The light on the senior necromancer’s forehead was dark now. They slowly moved toward the house, Ozymandias stumbling twice on the flat ground. Only his fellow summoner was able to keep him upright. Riley and Deanna followed them, each step full of effort.

  That left Simon. He had leveraged himself up on his knees now. His arms and face were streaked with dried blood. The instant his eyes met hers a true smile appeared. He had no idea how furious she was with him. It was time to fix that.

  “You damned idiot!” Katia shouted. Then she shoved him as anger overrode every other emotion. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  Simon’s bloody palm gently touched her cheek. “You had to survive. Nothing else mattered.”

  That was not what she wanted to hear. “Me? What if you never come back? What if you’d died? How could I live with that?”

  He smiled. “But I didn’t. And neither did you.”

  She shoved him again, just because. This time he landed on his butt, that idiotic smile still in place.

  She’s alive.

  Katia had several bandages on her arms and legs, but she looked better than he’d hoped. He saw her anger and knew it for what it was: She had truly feared she’d lose him.

  “You are an idiot,” she murmured, sinking onto the grass next to him. Then to his surprise she laid her head on his shoulder and let the tears fall. He placed his arm around her and rejoiced. A miracle had been granted them and he would always be grateful for that.

  Riley found them like that a few minutes later. She edged closer, then cleared her throat as if unsure she wanted to intrude.

  He looked up at her, still smiling.

  “Hey, you,” she said. “Your sister is okay. Freaked, but okay. She only has a few cuts. Mort called Ayden and she sent down one of the witches. Tastra’s a healer.” From her cautious tone she expected him to argue about the witch’s involvement, but he just nodded his approval.

  “Oh, and your sis wants to go to your parents’ house once she’s sure you’re okay.”

  “What’s to keep the necro from hunting her down?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Which is why Mort thinks she should stay with Summoner Canhoto. At least until this is over.”

  “I’m not sure Dee will go for that.” Because she’d want to be with their family after all she’d been through.

  “Then maybe you should talk to her,” Riley suggested.

  That was ironic: An exorcist’s sister would be safer with a magic user than with her own brother, or her own family.

  Simon reluctantly rose, his head spinning. His various wounds pounded in time with his heartbeat, and he swore he had the beginnings of a fever. “I’ll do what I can.”

  “You might find her more receptive than you think.”

  He had no idea what that meant, so he left Katia sitting in the grass and followed Riley into the house. His sister was in a back bedroom along with a woman with long mahogany brown hair. The witch was winding a bandage around Dee’s arm.

  “Put this ointment on it twice a day. If it starts draining, let Summoner Alexander know immediately. I don’t see that happening, but it’s always good to be cautious. Fortunately, the wounds aren’t that deep.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Happy to help. I hope I was able to answer your questions.”

  It was only then that Deanna noticed he was at the door. “Simon,” she said, her voice guarded.

  The witch looked over her shoulder. “Hi, I’m Tastra. Your sister is going to be fine.”

  “Thank you for helping her.”

  “I’ll leave some of the ointment for you, too.” A pause and then, “You should know it was created with magic, though.”

  Which meant there had been a discussion as to who he was and what that meant in terms of treatment options.

  “Okay. Thank you for letting me know that.”

  After a quick nod Tastra departed. It sounded as if his sister had been quizzing the witch, though about what he wasn’t sure. As he saw it he had two ways of dealing with this: Go hardline as to why it wasn’t wise to hang with magic users—and acknowledge that didn’t seem to apply to him—or accept that his sister had her own path.

  Dee beat him to it. “I asked her about herbal medicine. I’m, well, interested in natural healing and I’d been told the witches know a lot about that.”

  “They do. Riley swears by it. She would know.”

  A series of emotions crossed his big sister’s face now: Surprise, confusion and then relief as if she’d expected a stern lecture. Which told him just how much of an insufferable ass he’d been, even with his own family.

  Simon leaned up against the door frame because standing was getting harder by the minute. He was trying to ignore that the wounds on his arms were turning black.

  “Look, I don’t like magic, but I’ve also seen it save lives. Like both of ours today. If his lordship hadn’t come after us, hadn’t stopped those lizard things, we’d be dead. Or wishing we were dead.”

  There was hope in his sister’s eyes now. “So, ah, if I wanted to study with the witches to learn about herbal medicine, that wouldn’t make things bad between us?”

  He sighed. Yeah, he’d really been a jerk over the last few years.

  “It’s your life, Deanna. My job means I deal with the supernatural and with magic users. Last year I thought they were all evil because I was a total self-righteous hypocrite. I learned my lesson the hard way, that often the evil we think we see in others is really our own.”

  His sister was off the bed and hugging him before he could move. His injuries protested and he barely kept the agonized groan to himself.

  Once Deanna had stepped back, he asked, “So what brought on this interest in herbal stuff?”

  Her eyes flared. “Because I hate my damned job.” She stepped even further back, clearly upset. “Two days ago I was informed that I needed to take on even more responsibilities because the morons I work for aren’t going to replace one of the staff members who just quit.”

  She strode back to the bed, plopping down on the mattress. “I’m already working ten to twelve hours a day and even more on the weekends, and not getting paid for any of that extra time. There’s no acknowledgment of my efforts, or any chance at promotion. When I do what they ask, I just get more work shoveled at me. I’m damned tired of it!”

  It slowly dawned on him that maybe Dee had been micro-managing his life, because she felt she had no control over her own.

  “I wondered what was going on. You’ve been stressed out over the last few months. I wasn’t sure if it was because of me, or something else.”

  The anger in her eyes dimmed now. “Part of it was me worrying about you. Most of it was my crappy life. I want to do something that helps people, not just file papers and make sure I hit all the damned corporate goals for the quarter so I can get a pat on the head like a good little girl.”

  Oh yeah, she was pissed. “Then do what makes you happy. If nothing else, I’ve learned life is too short to be miserable. I’m betting Mom and Dad told you the same.”

  Dee nodded. “They did.” After a long sigh, she added, “I love you, Bro, you know that, right?”

  “I do. And I love you right back. Well, unless you’re rearranging my kitchen cabinets.”

  She delivered a mock frown. “It really did work better; you have to admit it.”

  He shrugged, not willing to concede that. “You’re forgiven. I hope you’ll forgive me for being a self-righteous dick for all those years.”

  A crooked smile appeared now. “You know, I’m thinking you hanging with that new trapper is a good thing.”

  “I certainly have more to talk about every time I go to confession.”

  She laughed. “I bet the Vatican would love to know what sins you’ve been committing. I know I would.”

  He wasn’t going there. “Mort really feels you should stay with one of the senior necromancers in case this crazy comes after you. He might do that, Dee. If you’re at our parent’s place . . . ”

  She nodded her understanding. “Yeah, bad news. Especially if the little ones are at home. Okay, get me somewhere safe and then nail this bastard,” she said, brightening up.

  “You got it.”

  Simon headed back to the courtyard, running on empty now. Once she saw him, Katia pointed at a chair near the wicker table.

  “Shirt off,” she said, then added a reluctant “please.”

  He did as ordered, trying not to moan at the pain the movements caused. Sitting with his back to her he could feel the air on the wounds, and it made them throb even more.

  “Oh, God. These cuts are deep. And they’re oozing black stuff.”

  That explained the nascent fever. “It was one of those skeleton bird things.” He’d tell her about the lizard things later. Much later.

  “Yeah, well, that’s why we are going to have to use the witches’ treatment first because washing them out doesn’t work. We learned that with mine. And yes, there’s an extra something in this but if you don’t ask what it is I won’t have to lie to you.”

  He could refuse it, or he could just let his wounds be cleaned by something that might counteract whatever crud those birds had dug into his skin. A lengthy shiver zipped through him reminding him that dying was stupid.