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And then the figure let his robe fall open, and I saw that it was a carbon copy of Harold, only older. Harold’s father? No, too young. Maybe an uncle? He was geeky looking, but the brilliant fire that flashed in his eyes told me he was far from stupid, far from safe. The slow hand of death enveloped his aura like the cloak he wore around his shoulders. Necromancer —he was their death mage. And he was adept but careless. The energy rode him, rather than the other way around.
And then Camille pointed, and I followed her gesture. Around his neck hung a pendant. A gem of swirling blues sat centered in the silver filigree: a diamond-faceted, round cabochon of aquamarine. The energy that spilled from the gem made me want to sink to my knees. And then I knew what Camille knew, what Delilah was realizing. He was wearing a spirit seal. Our enemy possessed the fifth spirit seal, and he was aiming directly for us.
CHAPTER 25
I backed up, wondering if he knew what the spirit seal was. Was he in league with Shadow Wing? He closed in on us, his gaze dancing from Camille to Morio. He must sense the death magic that they’d been working with. Oh shit, if he thought they were a threat—and they were—he might target them first. I raced over toward Camille, intending to jump between her and the necromancer, when he waved his hand, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t run anymore.
I dropped to the floor, hitting hard on my knees. If I’d been alive, I probably would have shattered a kneecap. As it was, if there was any breakage, it would heal up by tomorrow. As I struggled to pull myself to my feet, I realized that some magical force was holding me down. I pushed against the energy, but it wouldn’t let me up.
A glance at the others told me that Camille and Delilah were also caught by the spell. Rozurial was pushing against it, slowly trying to make his way forward. Vanzir had disappeared. Had the spell killed him? Morio had turned back into his human form and—like Roz—was struggling to move at about half speed.
And the man who was holding us down headed directly for Camille. Shit. Double shit. A look of fear raced through her eyes. Morio managed to slog forward a couple steps, but then, at a wave from the necromancer’s hand, he landed on his knees, too. Roz was still moving, though. One excruciatingly slow step at a time.
The man walked through the haze of magic without missing a beat. He put one hand on Camille’s wrist, then lifted his other hand and brought it down across her face. Hard. She gasped—or would have if she could have made a sound—and her head fell forward. He tossed her over his shoulder, turned, and headed toward the stairwell.
As I watched him go, a haze of anger and thirst welled up, and I felt my fangs descend. He was a dead man, but not before I made sure he felt every single step toward oblivion.
Roz continued to crawl forward, pulling himself toward the stairs an inch at a time. Delilah and Morio were struggling but still frozen. All the members of Dante’s Hellions were also paralyzed.
A moment later, the energy began to lift. At least for Roz, Delilah, Morio, and me. The rest of the Dante’s Hellions were still down for the count. As I struggled to my feet, I heard Camille scream.
Morio reared up, fighting off the residual effects of the spell, as he shifted back into demonic form—all eight feet of his incredibly scary, beautiful self. He lunged toward the stairs just as Roz broke out of his slow-mo struggle. Morio bumped into Roz and almost knocked him down the stairs but managed to catch the incubus before he went tumbling headfirst.
Delilah and I raced forward, pounding on the heels of the men. As we entered the amphitheater, I skidded to a halt. The Demon Gate, which had been forming when I first caught sight of it, now glowed with a manic raven-black energy. A swirl of stars shot through the inky blackness, and then I saw one star growing larger, heading our way.
“Fuck! Something’s coming through the gate!” I glanced around, frantic to find Camille. There she was—on the altar stone next to the elf. The necromancer had slapped her in a set of iron cuffs. She was moaning as the sizzle of smoke drifted up from her skin. Oh yeah, he was dead.
Morio and Roz headed down the stairs. I took a shortcut, leaping over the rail to land in a low crouch near the foot of the altar.
“Let her go. Now.” I stood, staring at the necromancer, who laughed.
“You want the girl? Or you want the elf? You can only rescue one at a time, and by that time, Shadow Wing will have feasted on the other, and the sacrifice will be complete.”
Shadow Wing? No—he couldn’t be coming through the gate! Not the Lord of the Subterranean Realms.
“You’re insane—he’ll kill us all!” I realized I was screaming at him, blind panic welling up. We were all dust motes compared to the demon lord. He’d bring his army through the gate and rip the world apart.
Morio didn’t bother saying a word. The next thing I knew, he was standing next to the necromancer and, with the full force of his power, backhanded the man in a swipe that should have broken the neck of any other FBH. But nothing happened. The man reeled back, quickly catching his footing. He turned to Morio, a dark look clouding his face.
“You are a nuisance.” He raised one hand and began muttering something in Latin. At that moment, Vanzir appeared from behind one of the terraced shelves and tackled him, taking him to the ground.
I leapt forward and grabbed the iron cuffs holding my sister captive. I could bend them. My hands would sizzle, but because I was a vampire, I’d heal, where she would sustain permanent damage if she touched them too long. Pure steel wasn’t as much of a problem. Cast and wrought iron were torture.
Camille was trying not to cry, but I saw the welts rising on her skin as I pried the cuffs apart and set her free.
Vanzir was wrestling with the necromancer. He managed to land a sound blow on the man’s nose, and the guy suddenly went limp. I tossed Vanzir a grin.
“I love you for that!” I yelled as I freed Camille and pulled her to her feet.
“I’m holding you to that,” he shouted back.
I turned to free the elf, but at that moment a loud noise from the Demon Gate stopped me. I didn’t want to look, but I had to. If Shadow Wing was coming through, we’d better pray for backup, because the world was doomed.
As the shooting star hurled through the gate, Camille leapt to her feet, despite the pain on her face. Morio raced to her side, and Roz to mine. Vanzir yanked the spirit seal off the necromancer’s neck and tossed it to Camille, who shoved it down her bra and drew out the unicorn horn. Delilah shifted, taking her black panther form, and I wondered if the Autumn Lord would be here, fighting with us, too.
“Put out a call for Smoky,” I yelled to Camille.
She nodded, closing her eyes. The magical bond that joined her together with Morio and Smoky would allow her to reach him, to send a message that she was in trouble, that she needed him.
