Chapter Twenty-Seven
Amerella’s body tensed. That did not sound good. She didn’t feel like being a martyr for anything right now. She looked around the study at the three guards. None were by the exit door, but two were close to her.
Uncle Giuseppe stood behind his desk, scowling at her. Nothing new there. If she were to make a break for it, now would be a good time. She turned toward the door to the hallway and casually stepped forward. A guard grabbed her wrist. She bent her elbow and pulled back her forearm, lifting his thumb. Holy shit. That worked, too.
The other guard approached. She kicked the first guard in the balls and pushed him into the second man. The second shoved the first out of his way and lunged for her. Her fingers wrapped around a small lamp on a table and she bashed it against her attacker’s head. He fell sideways, taking the table down with him.
A gunshot echoed in the room, loud enough to hurt her ears. Everyone in the study froze. “All right, no more of this nonsense, Amerella. Get into the ballroom.”
“Fuck you. Get someone else to be your lamb to the slaughter,” she said, chest heaving for air.
“I’m sure your son would make an acceptable blood sacrifice.” He smiled at her. He knew he had her. Bastard. At least her boy was safely hidden. “Oh,” he continued, “don’t worry about getting him. Tony can drive down to Mojave and pick him up.”
Her heart stopped, but her face turned to stone. “Don’t you lay one finger on my son, or I will kill you.” How dare he threaten a helpless child? Did he say “blood sacrifice”?
He waved the gun toward the double doors. “Into the ballroom, Amerella. I’m tired of waiting. Tony turned out fine. I want mine.”
The witch opened the doors to reveal an eerie scene. Amerella had never seen the room so dark. The blackout curtains covered the entire glass wall, keeping out all ambient light. If the witch hadn’t said the sun had set, she wouldn’t have known. In the center of the room was a collection of stuff that begged more questions than answers. The strangest bit being a mini bonfire inside a metal container. Why in the hell couldn’t they put it in the fireplace? It wasn’t like it was overused in the middle of the desert.
A hand between her shoulder blades pushed her into the room. “Get on the table, bitch.”
Amerella spun around and slammed the woman in the face. “Watch who you’re calling a bitch, witch. I’m family.”
The woman’s face turned a red Amerella had never seen. The witch’s hands snapped into the air, fingers wiggling. Uncle Giuseppe grabbed both wrists and held them down. “We need her, remember. If you ruin this, I will kill you unpleasantly. I want my demon.”
“Sorry, what?” Amerella asked. She knew she heard wrong. The door from the hall opened and her bastard cousin Tony walked in. His eyes glowed red.
“And it’s about damn time. We’ve waited too long already. I want to get out of this fucking desert.” Tony lifted Amerella off the floor, carried her to the table, and dropped her on it.
“Ow, you dick.” She rubbed the hip she landed on. Tomorrow there would be a bruise. “You really are a piece of shit, aren’t you?” His red pupils flared and he burst into laughter—deep laughs that carried a nonhuman resonance. He shoved her to lie back and wrapped Velcro around her wrists, holding them to the table. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Sit back and enjoy the show. It’s the last you’ll ever see.”
She yanked on the binds. “What do you mean? Uncle Giuseppe, what are you doing?”
Her uncle stopped at the table, next to her head. “I’m sorry, child.” He brushed hair from her forehead. “But the ritual calls for family blood. And since you’re supposedly missing, then we might as well keep it that way.”
Tony pulled a sheath from his pocket and slid an athame from it. The knife was beautiful, but looked deadly as hell. She swallowed hard. This looked really bad for her. If Frank wanted to rescue her, now would be a great time.
Giuseppe turned to Tony and took the knife from him. “Anything I should be prepared for before we start this?” Giuseppe asked his son.
Tony’s head cocked to the side and he stared at nothing. “Not really. There was a learning curve between me and the human’s motor skills. But that is to be expected since your son fought me. You must let the demon take control without fighting it. Your son was not happy with me taking over.”
“He had no say in the matter. The pissant was pathetic. I would’ve preferred my niece over him.”
Amerella couldn’t remain quiet anymore. “Hold on just a second. What the fuck are you talking about? Both of you sound batshit crazy.”
The men laughed. Uncle Giuseppe patted her restrained hand. “Julia here is a powerful witch who summons demons. These demons make humans stronger, smarter, and slightly magical.”
Amerella shook her head. “Let me get this straight. You’re letting demons—evil spirits who care about nothing except themselves—take over your body. Had it ever occurred to you that humans don’t usually do that for a reason?”
Julia smacked Amerella across the face. “Shut up, bitch. No one asked your opinion. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Blood seeped into Amerella’s mouth. Try doing that when her hands were untied and they’d see who bled.
“Julia, please,” Uncle said. “Let’s get this started. Re-runs of The Sopranos are on TV tonight. I don’t care that the show ended in 2007. I still love it.” He handed the ritual knife to the witch, then took a seat in a chair next to where Amerella lay.
The witch rang a bell, chanted, and lit four blue candles encircling their area, stopping at four places around the circle to kneel. “In nomine dei nostri . . .”
Amerella assumed the language was Latin. Shit. She was hoping the witch was a fraud, or at least a freak. But then again, Tony’s red eyes looked pretty damn real.
Julia came toward her with the fancy knife in hand. Amerella pulled on her bound hands. “Stay away from me, lady. I have a mate that will be really pissed if you kill me.”
The woman stopped, and her eyes narrowed. “Why did you use the word ‘mate’?” she asked.
“Because that’s what shifters call the other half of their souls. And my mate is rather damn possessive. He’ll tear you to shreds.”
Uncle Giuseppe sucked in a sharp breath. “How do you know about those creatures? Are they in Vegas? Can we capture one?”
“Fuck, no, you’re not capturing one,” Amerella shouted. Shit, she should’ve kept her mouth closed. Now she might’ve endangered Frank.
The witch placed a small silver bowl-shaped container at Amerella’s neck and one by her feet, into which she crumpled a lot of strong incense. Knife in hand, Julia returned to the first bowl, still chanting, and slit the side of Amerella’s throat. Amie tried to turn away, but her head wouldn’t move. The witch must’ve spelled her. She felt her blood flow into the bowl.
After a few seconds, the witch carried the blood-filled container to the fire and poured the liquid into it. Shit went crazy from there.
A wind swept through the room, circling the perimeter, almost tearing down the blackout curtains. Then it cut to the center of the room and swirled around the fire, creating a tornado of flame. Julia shouted her words to be heard above the howling chaos.
Amerella felt warm wetness under her head, soaking her hair. Her blood still trickled out, spilling on the table.
From the whirling fire, a humanoid form stepped forward. Julia bowed and stepped behind the table. “Oh, powerful one. Thank you for blessing us with your presence,” the witch said.
“What the fuck?” Tony yelled. “This isn’t a powerful demon! What are you doing here, Lamozierus?”
“Ashol? I wondered what happened to you,” said the demon in front of the fire. His voice was so guttural that it made Amerella think of wild animals.
Did the demon just call Tony “asshole”? If she wasn’t so tired, she would’ve laughed. The demon hit that right on the nose.
“Where is the king?” Ashol/Tony asked.
“He is no more,” the demon said.
“What the fuck, Lamozierus?” Ashol/Tony replied. “What does that mean?”
“You’re no longer in the underworld,” Lamozierus said. “It’s no longer your business what happens there.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on. We’re calling a demon to take possession of the man in the chair,” Julia said.
“Oh.” The demon shook his head. “Out of the question.”
“What do you mean?” Julia sounded panicked. Amerella felt gratified. Maybe the demon would kick her ass. Stupid bitch. Amerella would do it herself, except her body felt tired. She’d just lay there a bit longer.
The demon tried to make himself bigger again, more intimidating. The whole thing had turned into a mess. “I said no. No one will possess the human.”
“I don’t understand. Since when did demons stop doing possessions?”
“There are still those that do, a group of rebels, but not on my watch,” the demon said. “You called on me and I won’t allow a possession.”
“What is happening in the underworld?” Ashol/Tony asked.
“Everyone has powers the former king had kept to himself.”
Ashol/Tony frowned. “How can that be?”
The demon gave him a serious look. “We’ve had a lot happen recently.”
“Can I come back?” Ashol asked. “Wait. What about the plan?”
The demon turned to Julia.
“Don’t ask me,” she spit out.
“What plan are you talking about?” the demon asked, his eyes focusing on Ashol/Tony.
“The ultimate plan the king had to take over this realm and rule the planet.”
The demon’s red eyes brightened. “Not at this time.”
“What?” the witch asked, surprise clear in her voice.
Amerella couldn’t believe how stupid the woman was. Whatever the hell was happening in the underworld, the witch wasn’t getting a possession. A chill rushed her body. Did someone open a window? It was really cold suddenly. Maybe it was just the blood leaving her body. Hello, Frank. Anyone home?
“I’m going back to the underworld,” Ashol/Tony said.
Uncle Giuseppe jumped from his chair. “Tony!” Uncle knelt and held a finger to his son’s throat, obviously checking for his pulse frantically. Amie couldn’t stay awake any longer. Her lids felt so heavy. Her eyes closed and she felt her last breath escape her chest.