Chapter 4

  “Mama, I sick,” Jasmine moaned, and the words filled her mother with indescribable panic.

  “I know, sweetheart. Just rest on me,” Arya told her softly. “Just relax. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Arya pulled Jasmine’s small frame against her, feeling the heat of her body against her and the sorceress’ heart began to pound with more intensity.

  “Mama, where we going?”

  “Shh, Jasmine. Just rest. We will be there soon.” She stroked the child’s unruly red curls, hoping to calm her.

  “Mama, my tummy,” the girl cried.

  “That kid isn’t going to puke, is she?” the driver demanded, turning his head to glower at them. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Can you watch the damn road?” Arya yelled, not intending to swear or scream, but her nerves were far too taut to contain herself.

  Jasmine began to cry and she rocked her tiny daughter against her.

  “It’s okay,” she insisted. “I’m sorry Mommy raised her voice.”

  “She better not puke or you’re paying for the cleaning fee,” the surly driver continued, and it was the final straw for Arya.

  Arya inhaled and forced herself to focus. Her eyes bored into the back of the man’s head and she conjured her energy, forcing his mouth together with her mind, willing him to shut up. His eyes bugged as his lips melded into his cheeks, but he was blissfully silent as she controlled him to watch the road ahead, the panic bright in his eyes.

  She would release him when they arrived on the Strip and not a second before. In the meantime, she needed silence to concentrate, not the uncaring demands of the driver.

  “Mama – “

  “Please, Jasmine, you need to rest,” she begged the toddler. “We will be at Mommy’s friend’s house very soon but until then, you must close your eyes and be still. Do you understand?”

  “Yes Mama.”

  “Everything will be fine, sweetheart. I promise.”

  She wondered if she was lying to her daughter, if she had made a mistake leaving the Seattle Children’s Hospital.

  Upon arriving home, Circe had dropped her and Jasmine off at the emergency room of the hospital. But no sooner had the Valkyrie left, did Arya begin to have second thoughts.

  Perhaps it was the mass of mortal children coughing and sneezing around her or the mere scent of suffering, which nudged her through a highly evolved sixth sense. Maybe it was the simple fact that she knew her daughter’s secret might be exposed if a barrage of tests were ordered. While Arya could easily silence mortals who might learn the truth about them, she couldn’t control that many people, and certainly not all at once. And if she did end up having to leave the hospital in a hurry with her daughter, she didn’t know if she’d be able to bring herself to harm any of these people, even if she needed to.

  Whatever it was, Arya could not deny that there was an ominous, heavy feeling weighing upon her shoulders as she sat nervously, cradling Jasmine in her arms.

  No, she decided, gathering the waif-like child and hurrying out to hail a taxi. I am not staying here to wait for trouble, whatever it may be. And I know deep down that they won’t be able to help her anyways. No one can.

  Face it, half-breeds rarely survive in our world.

  She had no way of knowing how close she had come to seeing Jasmine’s father, Dante having appeared mere minutes after she and the girl had driven off. If she had seen him, her feeling of foreboding would have made perfect sense.

  Instead, she was making another decision for the health of her baby and as they neared the Sapphire Strip, Arya hoped that she was not wrong.

          ~ ~ ~

  Rowan’s iridescent eyes became nimbus clouds of anger when she opened the door.

  “I was hoping that my vision was wrong,” she growled, spinning so her flowing robes swished across the wood floor. “I couldn’t imagine that you would be so careless as to bring a demon spawn to my doorstep.”

  “Mama?” Jasmine asked, tilting her red curls back to peer at her inquisitively with bloodshot green eyes.

  “Nothing, baby,” Arya said quickly, scowling at the high sorceress. “Go and lay on the couch. Mama wants to talk to her friend for a minute.”

  “Arya, I have – “Rowan started to say but the ginger headed woman held up her hand to silence her boss. They both watched as her tiny replica sauntered out of earshot toward the velvet couch near the window.

  “This is highly unusual, almost a breech of the covenant,” Rowan snapped when she was permitted to speak again. “You should never have brought the girl here.”

  “You know why I brought her here,” Arya insisted. “If I had another choice, I would have spared both me and my daughter the abuse.”

  Rowan stared at her, face contorting into a sneer.

  “You think this is abuse? She is but a baby now, but what do you think will happen to her among the immortals when they realize what she is?”

  “Schoolyard bullying is the least of my concerns right now,” Arya retorted. “I need to know what’s wrong with her and how to cure her.”

  Rowan’s face softened just slightly, but she maintained her stubborn expression.

  “Why have you come to me?”

  “Rowan, I don’t have time to play games. You saw her illness which means you know a way to combat it. Don’t you?”

  “You disappoint me, Arya,” Rowan sighed. “For such a renowned thief and bright girl, you should have foreseen this. It’s an abomination that this child was even conceived, and a miracle that she has survived this long. You cannot mix immortal genetics and expect there to be smooth sailing. It’s really no different than what happens when mortals and immortals breed; catastrophe. Her “condition” is called Hybrid Immunity Disorder – HID.”

  The words sent chills through Arya and she felt her fists clench in defiance at her side.

 “She is not an abomination,” she spat. “And she will overcome this illness, this HID. She’s a child! They get sick all the time!”

  Rowan laughed humorlessly, her clear eyes shifting toward the sofa where Jasmine was drifting off, her breathing shallow.

  “Not like this, they don’t,” she replied. “This will kill her.”

  The statement held a note of finality to it, and an ice-cold shiver worked its way through her body. But Arya would not accept the sorceress’ words as gospel. There had to be a solution, a cure!

  “No,” Arya said flatly. “I refuse to accept that. I pulled her from the hospital, worried that they would learn about her, but I will take her back if you don’t help me, and it will put all of us at risk.”

  She knew she was playing with fire. The threat was almost begging for retaliation – but she didn’t care. Her baby’s life was endangered and she would die protecting Jasmine.

  “Don’t talk out of your ass,” Rowan barked, waving a pale hand dismissively as if Arya was a pesky fly. “You know as well as I do that we would hold our own against any mortal investigation.”

  Frustration mounted inside her and she glared at Rowan angrily.

  “Clearly I made a mistake coming here. You have no idea how to help her.”

  She moved toward Jasmine, but Rowan reached out to touch her, the contact sending a burn through Arya’s body.

  “Don’t be disrespectful, witch,” Rowan hissed warningly. “I didn’t say I don’t know how to help her.”

  A combination of relief and suspicion coursed through her as she jerked her arm away from Rowan’s burning touch.

  “But it won’t be easy, Arya, and you likely will not succeed.”

  “If there is a way, I will find the means to succeed,” she vowed.

  Rowan stared at her pensively for a long moment, and Arya reached out to her telepathically, taking another risky chance at pissing off the powerful witch, but the priestess had blocked her thoughts solidly.

  “There have been other hybrids, of course,” Rowan offered slowly. “Each one saddled with their own problems. The Lycanthropes comingle with the vampires and create Wendigos, the Valkyries breed with the pixies and spawn the hobgoblins. Over the millennia, there have been dozens of cross-breeds, all unintentional and each offspring of these matches ingrained with hideous deformities, some visible, others not so much.”

  Arya was growing tired of hearing her toddler being referred to as a freak of nature but she wisely held her tongue, sensing that Rowan, when all was said and done, might actually provide a solution.

  “Most of the hybrids die, however,” the high priestess continued and Arya noted that she glanced ruefully at the sleeping girl before continuing, an uncharacteristic look of shame crossing her face. “They cannot withstand the fight within their own bodies and they succumb to their fates.”

  “But not all of them,” Arya insisted. “You just gave me a list of those who have overcome.”

  “Yes,” she drawled hesitatingly. “Of course, there are exceptions to the rule. And some, a very rare few, gain the powers of both species and thrive, becoming very powerful indeed. But to overcome the HID, all but two that I know have received the Shroud of Protection.”

  Arya waited, her pulse quickening as she listened.

  “There is a spell which only a high sorceress can perform…”

  “Then you must do it!” Arya ordered.

  Rowan cast her a scathing look.

  “It’s obviously not that simple, Arya,” she snapped. “And you would know that if you let me finish.”

  Arya wished she would get on with it, but she dug her nails into her palms to keep from speaking out of turn again.

  “The spell is ever changing and lives in real time through the Chasm of Guile.”

  Oh gods…

  “I can see by the look on your face that you know what it is,” Rowan commented and Arya nodded miserably.

  “There are only three copies in the known world, each owned by the most powerful demons. It is a living entity, one which is updated moment by moment as the world adapts.”

  Rowan paused again, toying with her and Arya had no patience for such a game that day, not when Jasmine grew sicker by the minute. The illness had started so mysteriously, after all. The child had gone from a playful, happy baby to an apathetic and lethargic toddler almost overnight.

  It had been two weeks and it seemed to Arya and Circe, who came almost every day, that Jasmine was becoming weaker by the day. Her breathing was irregular, her skin almost opaque. She slept for twenty hours a day and ate very little.

  And the coughing had started, a terrifying crackling in her small lungs which caused Arya to lay awake with her, worried that each breath she took might be her last. No spells had worked, not modern medicine. There had been nothing Arya could do but pray to the gods and hope they intervened.

  “No, you will not succeed.” Rowan stated.

  “Why the hell not?”

  She spun back, her coral sashes becoming ribbons along her lithe body, blue eyes fixed on Arya.

  “Because, my dear girl, the only demon on this continent with a Chasm of Guile is Dante Carmichael. And he is the most ruthless demon of them all. And if by some small chance you do succeed, I will tell you right now that I will be the new owner of the Chasm, for I will not perform the spell unless I am keeping the power from it.”

  She gaped at the sorceress, unspeaking. Of course. Of course fate would throw her another gauntlet.

  And not just one, but two! Not only would she be stealing from the demon who had so callously tossed her aside three years ago, but now Rowan was also putting demands on her. So, it wasn’t like she could steal the Chasm and then return it, no one the wiser – no, now she would be hunted for life by Dante.

  No demon was easy to trifle with, but in the past couple of years, it was as if the soul had been torn clean out of him. Any caring he may have had in the past disappeared, and the reputation he was getting was dark indeed. No one dared cross him. Ever.

  No one knew why, but the demon seemed to have disappeared for a time, and then become the most vicious Deviant around.

   In general, demons were not to be trifled with; not even the lowliest opium smoker on the Strip. They were all powerful and their wrath was legendary.

  Stealing from a demon was suicide.

  Stealing the Chasm of Guile from Dante was…

  Sealing her fate.

  Arya could not even imagine what would become of her if she was caught attempting such a feat.

  “Why?” Arya demanded. “Why the hell would you want it? If you can just help Jasmine, then maybe I could return it without him ever kno – “

  “And what would be in it for me?” she hissed, her eyes snapping at Arya. “You think I wouldn’t be hunted for using it as well? There are only a handful of people around with the skill to use the Chasm, so I won’t risk my neck unless I can protect it afterward. And the book will give me the power to do that.”

  Arya gritted her teeth, willing herself not to remind her client that high sorceress or not, she was still below the demons on the food chain.

  “We’ll never survive this...”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she sighed. “Then I am afraid your daughter is going to die.”

  “I’m still going to do it, don’t get me wrong. But you and I will not survive his wrath. At least I won’t.” Arya muttered.

  “I am giving you a way to save her, Arya. You can take it or leave it but it is the only way.”

  No, it’s not the only way, she thought furiously, suddenly not caring if Rowan could hear her inner thoughts. I will bring it to another high priestess. There must be someone else within reach who had the power to use the Chasm. But first she had to steal it. 

  “Fine,” Arya gritted out.

  The witch’s mouth curved into a satisfied smirk and her eyes glittered with something she could not identify.

  “That’s good. And who knows, maybe you can do it,” she chirped. “After all, who would know him better than you?”

  Arya’s eyes flew to the sorceress’ and panic flooded her body. The urge to grab her daughter and flee was strong and she barely stopped herself.

  How could she know? Dammit, that gave Rowan too much power over her! 

  “Shall I take your silence for agreement?” Rowan asked and Arya realized she had been stunned into silence for too long, her mind whirling.

  Arya raised her eyes, her mouth becoming a fine line of determination.

   “Oh, hell yes,” she replied shortly. “No one deserves being made a fool out of more than Dantalion Carmichael.”

  Later, in the cab ride home, with Jasmine sleeping peacefully in her arms, her mind began to wander over the upcoming job.

   Dante, I promised myself that I would never have to set eyes on you again.

  The rejection and humiliation she had suffered after that night washed through her again.

Suddenly, the pain lanced through her again, the panic when she had found out she was pregnant almost taking her down completely. The fear had been a thousand blades piercing into her body at once and she had doubled over in pain. Then finally, her steely determination had kicked in and she had forced herself to move on and deal.

  But it was a long time before even the sound of his name didn’t cause her to cringe in pain. It had taken two years for her to force herself to not notice his mannerisms or smile in Jasmine, and while she still thought of him much more than she wished, she had not heard his name spoken aloud since the whistle-blower report had surfaced.

  Then, his name had been on every human news station, filling her with memories she had sworn she had forgotten, dredging up emotions she thought she had buried.

 Arya had even experienced bouts of jealousy when she learned that the woman responsible for the leak on Carmichael Industries had been a former lover of his.

  He just fucks over everyone he touches, doesn’t he? He probably left her high and dry too and she’s just getting him back. Serves him right. I did the right thing keeping Jasmine from him. God knows what he would have done if he learned about her. Either he would have taken her or forsaken her. In either case, I did what was best for my baby.

  But now she needed him, needed to hear his name…

  No, she thought furiously, blinking quickly to hide the sudden confusion in her eyes. No, he’s evil incarnate and I will not succumb to him again! This time I will be the one to fuck him over. 

  Then a small voice in her head raised a question. What if he would help you if you just asked?

  She pondered the question for a while, but decided that his past actions toward her, and his present reputation were answer enough.

  Why would I think that all of a sudden he would be happy to hear from me – especially seeing as I would be coming back to ask for a favor. He’ll only see me as a burden. It’s not like he tried to see me again after I gave him what he was wanted. What a slime ball!

  She shook her head in disgust, not only for him but for herself too. How could I have fallen for such a guy? Usually my instincts about people are so much better than that! Lesson learned…. the hard way.

  I would sooner steal the book than let him know about Jasmine. No one needed an evil father, and the potential for the girl to be hurt was overwhelming. The truth was, Arya was petrified what he would do to Jasmine. Would he try to raise her as a cunning demon? Would he dismiss her as a lowly sorceress?

  There were so many bad outcomes to having Dante learn about Jasmine and so few likely good ones.

  He abandoned us after making me believe he felt the same way about me as I did him. And then directed his staff to send me away when I showed up at his offices. He would certainly laugh in my face if I asked him to help.

  Screw you, Dante Carmichael.