Damnation Marked (32 page)

It was her apartment building.

She watched with sick fascination as the swaying image approached her door. Another man moved into view to kick it open.

The camera went wild, and red mist sprayed. The man in front dropped.

Anthony stood in the apartment’s living room. He pumped his shotgun and stepped behind the wall.

The man with the camera entered the apartment, and Anthony faced him. His motions were mechanical as he stepped forward to fire again.

A rifle swung into view, held by the kopis with the head-mounted camera, but he didn’t get a chance to shoot.

The camera fell. It bounced off the floor.

Anthony’s feet took another step. Another body fell to the carpet.

Elise could only see them from below the knees as men swarmed him, slamming him to the ground. A woman delivered a few swift punches, and the sliver of Anthony’s face that was visible in the image didn’t seem to register pain.

“That’s good,” Malcolm said. “Thanks, Carradee.”

Elise watched the monitor for a few long seconds after the screen froze on a single frame—a shot of Anthony’s impassive face, and a bloody limb on the carpet. She wasn’t sure if it was an arm or a leg.

When James told her that Anthony had attacked him, she hadn’t imagined anything quite so… fatal.

“He’s been possessed,” she said. “There’s no other reason he would do that.”

“Psychotic break?”

“Anthony isn’t crazy.”

“He is definitely showing signs of possession,” Malcolm admitted. “We’re not equipped with an exorcist right now, though, so the best we can do is keep him from hurting anyone else. In case you’re worried, we have regulations for this. He won’t be punished for what he’s done under the influence.”

Elise traced a finger over Anthony’s face on the monitor. He must have been taken in the Warrens—and she thought he had been running away.

Another one of her friends’ lives destroyed by her decisions.

She sighed. “Don’t send him to a priest. Just get someone to bring my belongings to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to exorcise him.”

E
lise met James
in a darkened observation room. She studied Anthony through a one-way mirror into Anthony’s cell. The Union had strapped him to a heavy wooden chair, and the only things holding him up were his bindings. He was slumped over with his head hanging from his shoulders. The ropes at his wrists had rubbed him raw and bloody.

“Can I get you anything else for the exorcism?” Malcolm asked as she took her belongings from James and pulled the spine scabbard on like a backpack. “Holy water? Bell, book, and candle? Young priest and an old priest?”

“Privacy,” she said.

“That’s a good one. You know the Union records everything, right?”

“Exactly. Turn off your cameras. Leave this room. Don’t watch us.”

“We have regulations against that.”

“Of course you do,” James muttered.

Elise caught the commander’s gaze. “Please.”

“Oh, bugger. Why not?” Malcolm pushed a chair into the corner, climbed onto it, and plucked wires out of the back of the camera that pointed at the window. “If I get demoted, I expect you to make room for me on your couch.”

She snorted. “You’ll have to buy me a couch first.”

Malcolm laughed and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “God, I don’t like you. I don’t think I’ve ever liked you. But you are fun as hell. Try not to kill this guy, all right?”

He left, and the door into the hall gave a solid, satisfying
click
as it closed behind him.

It left Elise with nothing but the door into Anthony’s room, a chain of golden charms, and a sick sense of inevitability.

“The sooner we do it, the better, I suppose,” James said, moving toward the cell.

Elise stepped in front of the door. “Actually, I wanted total privacy.” When he only looked at her blankly, she added, “Including from you.”

“But we’ve always piggybacked before you performed an exorcism.”

“I know.”

“That means I would see everything that happens in that room anyway.” James dropped his warding ring onto the table and waited expectantly.

She sighed and twisted the ring off her thumb.

The magic wore off, and Elise’s mind blossomed like a flower facing the sun. His thoughts and senses washed over her. There was magic threaded through the fiber of the room, from the wards on Anthony’s chair to the light hanging from the ceiling. It dazzled with crystalline energy.

Elise didn’t really want to see herself through James’s eyes, but she had little choice. She always looked awful, and that day was worse than usual. A unit of James’s blood hadn’t completely restored her color, and it had done nothing for her shadowed eyes and bandaged shoulder.

After a minute of deep, controlled breathing, she was back in her own head again. She entered the cell before his emotions could hit.

Anthony didn’t react to their presence, but Yatai’s energy was palpable in the room. It made the air feel thick, as though she had to swim to Anthony’s chair. James felt it, too, but he wasn’t as accustomed to forcing his way past infernal energy. He hesitated to cross the threshold.

Elise kneeled in front of Anthony, getting low enough to see his face underneath the veil of his bangs. His eyes were closed. His skin was soaked with sweat. She reached up to smooth the hair out of his face.

Anthony’s eyes opened.

He grimaced with pain and lifted his head. “Oh
man
, my neck hurts,” he groaned. His fingers twitched, like he was going to try to rub away the aches, but he could barely jiggle his arm within the restraints. Anthony’s eyes fell on the ropes.

Panic flashed over his face. He shook his seat, making the legs scrape against the floor.

“Relax,” she said. “Don’t fight. You’ll hurt yourself.”

His eyes flicked from Elise, to James, to the door, to the mirrored wall. “Where am I?”

“We’re in a Union warehouse.”

“Why am I…?” He pulled on his wrists again. Fresh blood welled under the ropes, and he hissed.

Elise glanced at James, uncertain of what she should tell him. There usually wasn’t much point in talking to someone who was possessed. If they were conscious enough to understand, they wouldn’t believe it. And once the demon took over, it didn’t matter, anyway.

“We’re trying to help you,” James said.

Anthony gave a harsh laugh. “Help me? By tying me to a chair? Let me go, guys.” Elise looped the chain of charms around her fist. He froze. “What are you doing with those?”

She circled the chair silently. It was James who responded. “Remember that we’re your friends. We aren’t trying to hurt you, and this will be over quickly.”

“What is ‘this’? Elise?” He craned around, trying to see behind him. “Elise!”

“
Crux sacra sit mihi lux
.”

The chain of charms flared with power. And just as they had during Zohak’s exorcism, they immediately grew warm. She focused on the strength she shared with James.

“You can’t exorcise me,” Anthony said. “I’m not possessed!”

“
Non draco sit mihi dux.
”

His mirthless laughter turned to panting, and then small cries. He twisted his fists.

A ragged cry ripped from his throat.

“Elise!”

“
Vade retro, Satana,
” she went on in a low voice as the chain grew hotter.

James’s thoughts ran underneath hers—
what is she doing, she isn’t focusing her energy at all, this isn’t going to work
—and she pushed it away.

Elise’s spoke softer than before. “
Nunquam suade mihi vana. Sunt mala quae libas—
”

Anthony screamed. He flung his head back, smacking it against the back of the chair, and his biceps strained as he tried to lift his hips. The harder he fought, the brighter the warding symbols on the wood burned.

“—
ipse venena bibas,
” she finished.

He stopped fighting. Anthony slumped again, his head hanging over his shoulders as he sagged.

Elise flung the burning charms to the ground. Heat turned the metal molten white.

“That can’t be it,” James said.

She stepped back. “It’s not.”

The demonic energy hadn’t left Anthony. In fact, using the prayer of St. Benedict had only intensified the fire burning over his skin. The tension in the room heightened. Her blood felt slow in its veins.

Anthony’s head lifted again.

This time, he didn’t struggle. His face was slack, his mouth hung open, and his drooping eyes were no longer brown—the irises had turned as black as the abyss that Yatai had tunneled through the earth, except that she had burrowed through his mind.

The lone light bulb in the center of the ceiling flickered.

Yatai had come.

Shadows slithered from Anthony, extending tendrils to each corner of the room. The eggshell white walls dimmed.
Trying to exorcise me again? I thought you would have learned that it’s impossible by now.

“I did.”

Then you waste your time as well as mine.

“Not exactly. I thought you might let him go.”

Her chuckle was identical to Yatam’s. It poured over her skin like a cold kiss and stirred deep within her belly.
Why would I do that?

“Because I can give you what you want.” She struggled to take a deep breath in the thick air, steeling herself. “I can kill you.” James’s gaze fell on her. She felt his silent incredulity, and ignored it. “You don’t have to destroy the entire city to die. There are other ways.”

Yatai was silent for so long that if Anthony’s eyes hadn’t been so dark, she might have been certain the demon was gone.

When she spoke again, she wasn’t quite so confident.

I am eternal.

“And I’m the Godslayer.”

Yes, but how is such a weapon wielded? Consider it.
The figure of a child stepped out from behind the chair. Lucinde was still wearing her Sunday best, but there was still no mistaking her red lips and hungry eyes for anything but Yatai’s.
Do you think you were meant to return from the abyss of the garden? You are a sacrificial lamb. A life for a life. You may be able to kill me, but surely not without surrendering yourself.

Yatai strolled toward her, slinking with a sway to her hips that was unnatural for such a small child. She circled Elise, trailing an icy hand over her back.

Your life is your weapon, and it can only be wielded once. The question is… how badly do you want me to die?

Elise thought of Nukha’il, and Itra’il, and the casino sinking into the earth.

“Very badly.”

But not badly enough
.
You have no resolve, Godslayer—you aren’t prepared to die.

“You should ask Yatam what I’m willing to give to kill you,” Elise said. “Both of you.”

Uncertainty flickered over Lucinde’s innocent features.
He is enamored with what you represent.

“I know.”

He doesn’t love you. He only loves his death.

Elise had to laugh at that. “I’m not worried about love. Trust me.”

Yatai faced her, and the darkness in the room grew until Elise couldn’t see beyond the length of her arm. Anthony and James vanished, sinking into fog. Only the girl remained visible—a ghostly figure in the void.

Her hands smoothed over her blue skirt. She looked… nervous.

“Yesterday, I fed your brother my blood and my flesh. And when I drew my knife across his chest, he didn’t heal. Do you know what that means?” Elise asked. The demon didn’t respond. “I can kill you. You just have to abandon the gates and let the city go—you have to let
Anthony
go.”

The girl’s mouth drew down into a frown.
My brother lives. I feel him. I think you’re lying to me.

“I’m not.”

You are prepared to die to bring death upon us both.

Elise opened her mouth to say, “Yes.”

But she hesitated for a heartbeat. Just a heartbeat.

It was enough.

The room reappeared around Elise. Yatai stepped back.
Your love of this life is still too great. You will not die for us.

“Wait—”

If you change your mind, come and find me. I will lay my life at your merciful feet, spare your city, and surrender this man to you for the low cost of your blood and soul. Otherwise…

She disappeared, taking the shadows with her.

Anthony arched in the chair. He roared, throwing his head back and kicking out both feet.

The thrashing was so sudden that the chair tipped. It cracked against the floor. He screamed and strained his arms against the wrists, beating his feet against the legs.

Elise dropped by Anthony’s side, but the seizure wracked his entire body, and he didn’t respond to her touch.

James hovered by the door, eyes wide circles.

How much had he seen?

She felt him probe her mind, and Elise shoved the warding ring onto her thumb before he could see anything.

“Get Malcolm or a doctor or—
something
,” Elise said, grabbing one of Anthony’s hands. He was ripping his wrists apart trying to get free. James didn’t immediately move, and she shot a glare at him. “Go!”

He flung the door open and ran.

A
Union doctor
with a syringe full of morphine wasn’t enough to sedate Anthony. It took an entire unit of kopides to strap him to a bed and wheel him to the infirmary, where they had more drugs and more staff to hold him down.

Elise paced the empty hallway outside the ward, arms folded tightly across her chest. James hung by the railing overlooking the warehouse. He hadn’t looked at her once since they had left the containment cell. He watched the teams move on the floor below as though his gaze could set them on fire.

Malcolm emerged from the infirmary. “Well?” Elise asked.

“He’s finally unconscious. He bit a witch’s hand, though, and we’re not sure if he’s spreading the ichor yet. Might have to amputate.”

Her back hit the wall, and she slid down to sit on the floor. “Damn it.”