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“Thank you for waking me, Cicely. Let me show you just how grateful I am.” The look on his face was insolent and yet—and yet—there was Kaylin, behind the new attitude.
“Kaylin—do you remember what happened?” The thought ran through my mind that maybe this hadn’t been the best idea, but Lainule had insisted we needed him and how could I leave him in a vegetative state? I might as well have killed him as done that.
“Oh, I remember,” he said, slowly stepping toward me. “I was sleeping for a long, long time and then . . . something stirred and it was time for me to wake.”
“You’re the night-veil—where’s Kaylin? I see him in there. Let him through. It’s his body and you only share it.”
“Share it? No, I think not. I’m going to take this body and thoroughly enjoy the freedom.” The demon laughed, holding out his hand. He made a fist and brought it up, gazing at it joyfully.
“Cicely—you have the fetish!” Chatter frantically motioned to my hand.
Crap! I was supposed to break the fetish against Kaylin’s heart! Otherwise the demon would be free to control him. I scrambled to my feet, nodding.
“Help me, Chatter—I can’t do it by myself.”
The demon snorted. “You think I’m going to let you carry through with the rest of the spell? I know perfectly well what you’re up to and it’s not going to work.”
I glanced at Chatter, wondering if we could take him. We didn’t dare let him loose. “We have to,” I murmured. And so, without another word, we both jumped Kaylin, trying to take him down.
Chapter 8
Kaylin burst out in laughter again and he swung his fist, connecting with my stomach to send me reeling across the room. I landed hard on my tailbone, feeling like my midsection had met a sledgehammer. But I still had hold of the fetish. I wheezed, struggling to right myself as Chatter landed a blow on Kaylin, my wolf growling low and long.
“Cicely! Chatter! What the fuck’s going on in there?” Leo pounded on the door. “Open up!”
“Stay out until we call you!” I didn’t want them in the way of those fists. As it was, my midsection was going to be sporting a nasty bruise for a couple of weeks. I rolled to my feet while Chatter and Kaylin engaged. Chatter was stronger than I was, but Kaylin had suddenly developed a strength that could match—or best—one of the Shadow Hunters. I glanced around the room and suddenly remembered my street-fighting days and the advice from Uncle Brody: When facing the enemy, think dirty. Anything for a weapon.
I grabbed a bottle of cologne off Kaylin’s dresser and aimed it for his eyes, then pressed the button. The scented spray of Spice hit him directly in the face, and he let out a roar as he covered his eyes with his hands and stumbled back.
Chatter tackled him, knocking him to the floor as I scrambled over to his side and brought the fetish down hard against his heart. The clay figurine shattered into pieces and I leaned over him.
“Egrend . . . Egrend . . . I command you to submit your will to Kaylin. You are no longer in control. Merge, and become one.”
Kaylin’s eyes jerked open, glowing with a pale yellow light, and he struggled, but after a moment the light faded and he slumped on the floor, breathing softly. I looked for any sign that the creature was playing possum, but I was fairly certain the spell had worked.
Chatter gathered him up and laid him on the bed. “He’s exhausted, I think. Being ridden by a demon can drain a person in no time. And when his demon woke, it rode him like a horse.”
“Yeah,” I said, staring down at the bed. “It was out for blood, all right. I wonder how this will change the Kaylin we know.”
“There’s no telling. Not yet. We just have to hope for the best. If we hadn’t done this, Cicely, he would have faded and never again been able to wake. You saved his life.” Chatter placed a hand on my arm, and I smiled gratefully.
“Then why do I feel so strangely guilty? Like I’ve just altered him forever?”
“Because you have. But we had no choice. Come on, let him rest. He’s no longer unconscious, just asleep. I can feel the difference.” Chatter led me to the door and, with a backward glance at Kaylin’s slumbering form, we left the room.
Leo and Rhiannon were both looking terrified, although with Leo, an undercurrent of anger ran through his worry. We told them what happened, and he just shook his head in disgust.
“I thought we were working together on this—why the fuck did you shut us out? Or at least me. And you put Rhiannon in danger.” The muscles on the side of his neck tensed and his ears were turning red.
I had to nip this attitude in the bud. “Listen to me, Leo. I did as Lainule asked. She told me to take Chatter and Peyton with me, that you and Rhiannon couldn’t handle the journey, and she was right. Until you get up to speed on your fighting skills, deal with it. You’re a healer—we need you in the background. You are vital to the continued health of our group, and that’s not a front-line job. If you get hurt, it hurts all of us. Got it?”>He was on the floor by my side in the blink of an eye, gathering me into his arms. I leaned against his body, closing my eyes as he murmured an apology.
“Oh, Cicely, of course you aren’t—not this time around. But before, when you were with Grieve, you were Myst’s daughter, destined to take the throne in the future when she died. You defied her . . . you ran . . . you dared to love one of the enemy. You have to accept that part of yourself if you hope to beat her this time.”
“You were there. Which side were you on?”
“I was Shy’s brother. Don’t you remember?” His words hit like a sledgehammer, and I started to cry.
“No, no . . .” But the room started to fall away, and I went spiraling into the past.
