Touch of the Demon

He stepped within a pace of me, aura surrounding me, suffocating me. “It can be undone,” he said with a shake of his head. “Dear one, it is not too late.”



“Yes it is! You can’t undo the fact that it happened, not without destroying me in the process.” My breath came in shallow gasps. He wasn’t even projecting terror at me in that way, but his presence alone brought it forth. “You’re the one who said it was too late, and now you sound like a psycho stalker.” I pressed back against the potency barrier. “I’m not going with you. I’ll never go with you. You can’t undo this.”



Another aura. Mzatal. I vaguely felt his arm across my chest, but it was as if he was the dream and Rhyzkahl the reality. Rhyzkahl sensed it too. He looked beyond me then snapped his focus back to my eyes and spoke with measured intensity, breath hissing. “You do not understand.” He caught my face between his hands. “Kara, all will be well. I will take you away. Away from here. Away from the realm. And you will be you and whole.”



Mzatal was there, somewhere—an invisible support. “No,” I said, baring teeth. “I do understand.” Though my heart still slammed, I gathered myself, gripped Rhyzkahl’s wrists and tugged, seeking to get his vile touch off my face. “I understand that you would give me over to Jesral and those other fuckers. I understand you lied to me and betrayed me. I will never ever go with you. Get that through your blond head right now.”



A whisper passed through my mind, and I knew Rhyzkahl read the truth of my words. Good.



His breath quickened. He released my face and took a step back, hands lifted as though he still held me. A stricken look swept over his features, and he shook his head, looking strangely lost.



I felt Mzatal’s physical hold on me more clearly as well as his nonphysical touch. “Rhyzkahl. Leave me now,” I said as I took a step toward him, willing him away.



He retreated another step.



A flush of determined anger seared through me. “Go! Leave me alone.”



Potency surged over me as he tensed and dropped his hands to his sides. “Ungrateful chikdah.” He spat the words and took another step back, visibly shaking in what could only be anger.



I blinked in true surprise at the slur. “Wow. Yeah, dude. A couple of pointers here if you want keep a girl. First, don’t torture her. Second, calling her ugly names is also a no-no.” I held steady to my core and the supporting presence of Mzatal. “Get away from me. I don’t ever want to see you again.”



“You think your savior’s hands are clean?” he asked with a short, cold laugh. “You will see me again. Soon.”



Mzatal’s encouragement to continue to resist and push came through clearly, and I did so with ferocity. I shook, there was no doubt about that. But I also had no doubt that I could and would push this fucker away. My fingernails bit into my palms as I rejected his presence with every fiber of my being.



Rhyzkahl took a forced step back and growled an angry curse. He turned his back on me, lifted his open right hand. “You had all within your grasp and cast it aside. You will be mine.” He made a fist and ripped it forward, wrenching the dream-sending away.



I gasped and my knees buckled. Mzatal held me securely from behind, his left arm over my shoulder and across my chest until I could get my legs to support me again. I managed to do so, then pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Shit.”



Mzatal muttered something in demon as he half-carried me back into the bedchamber and settled me in his chair. He dragged the sheet from the bed and draped it over me, then crouched and peered up into my face.



“What was that?” he asked, naked concern etched in his features. “I could only peripherally sense it.”



I grimaced as my head throbbed. “Dream. A dream-sending from Rhyzkahl.”



“That was no dream. This has happened before?”



“Yeah, shit. A bunch of times on Earth,” I replied, rubbing my temples. “This time it was way stronger than before though. When I died, the link was broken, but he hooked it right back up next time I summoned him. The bastard.”



Mzatal laid his hands over mine at my temples and eased the headache, then drew my hands down into my lap and held them there. Without taking his eyes from mine he called out to Gestamar. “Have Idris prepare a purification now, with the last quadrant open. I will need to specialize it.”



I heard Gestamar’s acknowledging grunt from the other room. Mzatal squeezed my hands. “It would have been useful to know of this sooner.”



I gave the lord a sour look. “Well, he hasn’t done it in a long time, and I figured you’d tromped through my head enough to know every fucking thing about me. I mean you know what goddamn brand of tampons I use.”



Mzatal closed his eyes and shook his head. “And understandable to draw that conclusion. But this is something I could not detect, and even when active, I could not follow it.”



That didn’t sound good. “Can you get rid of it?”



“I gathered enough during the contact to localize it,” he said, opening his eyes again and looking into mine. “I will deactivate it.”



So far he’d followed through on what he said he’d do. No reason not to trust him in this as well. I managed a weak smile. “I guess training will come later?”



“Priorities. This first. Definitely this first.” He gave my hands a final squeeze then released them. “Tell me what happened,” he said, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.



And I did. By the time I finished, a slight frown curved his mouth, and he seemed deep in thought.



“What is it?” I asked.



Mzatal shook his head. “He is dangerous in a new way. He has shown signs of true jealousy. I witnessed it clearly during the ritual, and it colored much of your interaction in the dream-sending.”



“He’s possessive,” I agreed “What’s so bad about that? I mean apart from it being totally psycho that it’s directed at me.”



“I have known Rhyzkahl for millennia, and he has never shown jealousy,” Mzatal said with a slow shake of his head. “Possessive power displays between qaztahl, yes. That is normal for all of us. Personal jealousy such as he has shown is alien. It is not our nature.”



I took that in, though it was hard to get my head around the idea of the lords not being jealous. “Well it sure as hell looks like his nature now,” I said, scowling. “He seemed to lose it when I told him I would never go with him.” I put the puzzle pieces together. “You’re saying he’s an unknown because you don’t have a precedent for it, and therefore he’s dangerous. More dangerous.”



Mzatal nodded. “Yes, and we will need to take that into account.”



“What did he mean when he said, ‘You think your saviour’s hands are clean?’” I asked, watching him carefully.



Mzatal exhaled. “I have lived millennia, Kara, and done much that would revolt you. My hands are not clean.”



I realized I didn’t really want to know the details right then, not with everything else I already had to deal with. The fact that he hadn’t tried to dance around the question was sufficient—for the moment. I didn’t hold any illusions that he was a saint; he was a demonic lord, and I’d had a glimpse of his darker side.



I nodded in acknowledgement. “Fair enough, for now.”



He stood. “Go bathe, then come to the summoning chamber, and we will disengage this link. Gestamar will stay with you.”



I looked up at him and nodded, tension leaching out of me. He gave me a quick smile and departed, hands clasped behind his back. I watched him go, grateful to him on innumerable levels. Though I was the one who’d pushed Rhyzkahl away, I wasn’t sure if I could have done it without Mzatal’s support—at least not yet. I owed him big time. Again.



Was he keeping score? And if so, what would the payoff be?



Chapter 26



I tried to avoid thinking about the coming ritual as I made my way to the summoning chamber. It’s a purification, I told myself sharply. Not even as dangerous as a summoning, and I’ve done a kajillion of those. Didn’t help. The curl of tension still sat like a rock in my chest.



I stopped before the double doors, heart suddenly pounding a mile a minute. I didn’t reach for the handle to pull the doors open. I didn’t want to go in there. Bad things happened in summoning chambers.



He held his hand out, and I stepped forward and took it. He smiled down at me. Pain. Blood.



I startled as Mzatal placed his hands on my shoulders from behind, and I realized I’d been standing in one place, staring at the doors for what had to have been at least ten minutes, so absorbed I hadn’t even felt his approach. Yet he didn’t say anything, simply held my shoulders and let me know he was there.



“I’m sick of trying to be strong,” I whispered hoarsely. “I’m not. I’m not strong at all. I fake it and pretend to be tough, but I can’t do this.” I shook my head in a sharp motion, eyes on the doors. “I…I can’t go in there.”



“In there or out here,” Mzatal said in quiet, resonant tones, “it is the same. It is a horrific ghost that haunts you, wherever you are. What you carry, what you fear, is as potent on this side of the door as it is within the chamber, though its manifestation is clearer there.” His gave my shoulders a light squeeze. “Your victory is in facing the ghost where it manifests strongest. Turn from it now, and Rhyzkahl triumphs, and you, and those you care for, no longer face a ghost but a certainty. Face it now with me beside you, and you are a step closer to banishing the ghost forever.”



I breathed out a curse. “Oprah needs to have you on her show,” I said sourly, feeling the truth of his words. I hated it, yet I also knew I had to accept it.



Steeling myself, I grabbed the handles and yanked. They opened far more easily than I expected, and only Mzatal’s hands on my shoulders saved me from toppling back on my ass. I grimaced. Yeah, this was a great way to start things off.