Darkness Brutal (The Dark Cycle Book 1) (35 page)

FORTY-SIX

I rise from the lake of flames retching and gasping for oxygen.

Someone screams, and another voice says, “Holy shit!”

My eyes try to focus as arms grab me, cling to me. Someone is weeping against my shoulder. “Oh, God . . . oh, God, Aidan.” Kara’s clutching me so tight it hurts, kissing my cheek, my neck.

I gulp at the air, confusion twisting inside me.

Shit.
I was dead.

I look at the stunned faces around me—all of them. Kara, her body clinging to mine, Connor standing at the foot of the bed looking like he’s seen a ghost, Jax gaping, Holly leaning on the wall beside the window, palm to her forehead. And Sid frowning from the shadows. Even Finger’s here. But how did they all get here so quickly?

“What’s going on?” I ask. My voice sounds like it hasn’t been used for a decade.

Jax plops down, rocking the bed. “We’ve been sitting here staring at your corpse for the last three hours, wondering what to do if you didn’t wake up like Sid said you would. I voted for tossing you off the balcony, but Holly thought you’d prefer drowning in the pool. We were gonna make the story exciting, like you’d been running from the mob and—”

Sid grabs Jax by the arm, stopping his yammering, and yanks him to his feet. “Enough. Give him space.” He pulls Jax to the desk and settles him in the chair.

“I was dead,” I manage to get out of my dry throat. Even saying it aloud doesn’t make it feel any more real.

Kara shivers beside me, not releasing me, like she’s desperate to keep me there. “I woke up and . . . oh, God, Aidan.” Then she moves back and socks me in the arm, sudden rage billowing out to mingle with the sorrow between us. “What the hell were you thinking?”

I shake my head. I wish I knew.

Sid moves forward. “Let me talk to Aidan alone.” He begins shooing the others out. Kara starts to pull herself away from me. She’s wearing her clothes again, and I wonder what she’s been feeling over the last few hours. While I laid here, a corpse.

I grab her wrist and won’t let go. “Kara stays.”

The others file out of the room, but Connor straggles behind. “You scared me, man,” he says, touching a hand to my shoulder. “No breaking Kara’s heart, right?”

“Right,” I say, finding Kara’s hand.

Her fingers slide through mine.

“Good. Stay alive then.”

Once Connor is gone, Sid sits on the bed and sighs with obvious relief. “I knew you’d be in a deep sleep during the awakening, but you seemed very dead, son. It was difficult to convince myself not to call the ambulance and request some sort of medical miracle. You nearly gave me a heart attack being out for so long.”

I try to form a coherent thought. “I was dead, so I didn’t have a whole lot of say in the matter. But next time I decide to keel over I’ll be sure to get it approved by the committee first.” My voice cracks. My throat is a desert. “Is there any water here?”

Sid gets a water bottle from the minifridge and hands it to me. “In the scrolls it implied a sort of coma state. Not
death
.”

“I guess a death of sorts was supposed to happen. The angel said—”

“An angel!” His eyes grow even wider.

So apparently he doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t appear to know that Eric’s an angel. He’s not even aware there’s an angel involved at all. Somehow the idea of him being somewhat in the dark makes me feel a little better.

“When I was . . . dead, I saw an angel,” I say, deciding not to tell Eric’s secret. “Then, after he talked to me, I woke up here, and all of you were gawking at me.” I take a swig of the water, and my insides soak it in like parched earth.

“Amazing,” Sid mumbles. “And do you feel it? The power?”

I pause, taking stock of how I feel, to see if anything seems different. But I have to say that if it is, I can’t tell. I look over at Kara. At her hands fiddling nervously with her shirt. “Do I seem different?” I ask.

She considers, and then she says, “Maybe a little.”

Sid moves closer, examining me. “What?”

Kara hesitates. “You feel . . . I don’t know. More
other
. Less real.”

I blink at her, not sure what to make of that—is that good or bad?

Sid frowns at me. “Hmm, yes. I see what you mean,” he agrees. “As if his skin is . . . shiny, maybe—oh!” He points at my chest.

I look down.

Across my chest is the continuation of the marking on my arm. It runs from my hand up to my elbow, curling over my bicep and shoulder muscles and spreading out like thick brown veins over my pecs. And where my heart is there’s a sort of brand: a circle with a symbol inside. A sigil burned into my skin. The flesh around it is puffed red, but it doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel it at all. “What is that?”

Sid squints at it. “It appears to be a sort of seal—perhaps on your powers?”

“I thought you were supposed to know all this,” I say, concerned by how unsure he sounds. “You’re the one who pushed this to happen.”

“I wanted your powers to be awakened because it was what was best. Now they are,” he says. “I only know what the scrolls tell me, son.”

“Well, can you at least tell what it means? I can’t read it upside down.”

Sid shakes his head. “It’s not anything I recognize.”

Wonderful. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.” But I realize as I look around for my shirt that it’s not night anymore. The sun is full in the sky. “What time is it?”

“It’s four thirty.”

“Four in the afternoon?” Shit. I’m running out of time.

“Aidan, what difference does it make?” Sid asks. “This is just the beginning.”

I jump out of the bed, reaching for my shirt on the floor. “There’s too much to do.” My legs scream in protest as I stand. I wobble, but manage to stay on my feet.

Sid frowns. “Do?”

“He’s going to try and save her,” Kara says, sounding defeated.

“You mean your sister? Aidan—”

“No use telling me what a horrible idea it is. I already know.” I pull my shirt over my head. “And I’m going anyway.”

“But you barely received your powers,” Sid says. “You don’t know what you can do! And the demons . . . Aidan, this is suicide.”

“I’m really not interested in your thoughts.” I know I’m not
less
powerful, and I was determined to act before this event, so I’m certainly not letting whatever this is change my mind. “You can either help me or I’ll figure it out on my own. Your call.”

“I’ll help,” Kara says quietly.

Sid opens his mouth to say something to me, but then he closes it and finally says, “Try to see reason!”

I ignore him and turn to Kara. “I need to find some things.”

I’ll need salt to keep them back, cinnamon to throw them off my scent . . . Eric will have a hex box or spirit bowl. I can get him to give them to me—now that he’s my guardian angel and all.

“I’ll drive,” she says. She smells like defeat, but her shoulders are set in determination. “Just let me get my keys. I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.” She heads out the door, leaving Sid and me alone in the room.

“You need to stop and think about this,” he pleads. “There’s no reason to rush into anything—”

“Yes, there is. Her awakening is tonight.”

Sid’s eyes grow.

“And I think that’s when the darkness will really take root. Unless I stop it. And we still aren’t sure if she’s the key or not.”

“You could die. For sure this time.” He sounds crushed. “After all that I’ve sacrificed to save you.”

“You’re a crazy bastard, but I’m grateful for everything you did for me.” He did try to help me, even if his methods were a bit faulty at times. “Just let it go now, Sid. My future isn’t in your hands anymore. And this was always about saving Ava.”

I turn and leave him standing by the bed that was my grave ten minutes ago, and I realize I’m not doing this for just Ava anymore, or for my mom. I’m doing this to prove something to myself, to show that little boy who watched from the doorway as his mom was torn to shreds and tossed to the floor like a rag doll that it’s okay he didn’t save her. Because I can save Ava.

Today I’ll do what I should’ve done that night so long ago—I’ll redeem what I love.

Or die trying.

FORTY-SEVEN

Kara parks the Camaro in the back lot of SubZero, and we head to the club’s service entrance. She lifts her fist to knock on the door, but I stop her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

I pull her closer, leaning down to take her lips with mine. She’s hesitant, but she doesn’t resist. When I move away, she stares at me for a second and then asks, “What was that for?”

“I want you to know how I feel about you.” I’m full of anxiety. Death is a strong possibility.

“You’re freaking me out, Aidan.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just, this thing between us is never going to be something we can keep neat and tidy—I’m not that guy, you know.”

She gives me a look that says she doesn’t understand why I’m telling her this.

I continue anyway. “Before I jump into this thing tonight, I want you to know why the spell worked and my powers were awakened, even though we never . . .”

She rolls her eyes. “Had sex. You’re allowed to say it.”

I don’t let her snark keep me from telling her what I need to say—I know she’s putting up a front. “Something happened last night,” I say, “when I told you those things, when we were lying there together and talking.”

“You told me about your mom,” she whispers.

“I’ve never told anyone those things. Not even Ava knows. You know more about me, about my heart, than anyone I’ve ever known, Kara. Whatever happens I need you to know that.”

I feel her tremble as I hold her arm. “Please don’t do this,” she says, desperation threading her words. “You can’t leave.”

“I have to.” I have to try.

She jerks her arm from my hand. “You don’t
have
to. This is your choice.” She steps back, and tears glisten in her eyes. “Do you know what I thought when I woke up beside you this morning? I felt how cold you were, empty. It wasn’t you—I knew that the minute my eyes opened. I was lying beside a corpse.”

I don’t know what to say. “Kara . . .”

“And now you’re going to run toward death again. Is that what love looks like? Because if it is, then it sucks.”

I feel beaten, robbed. In a way, she’s right, but there’s so much more to it. I won’t be able to make her understand. I barely understand it myself.

“But two can play this game, Aidan.” She wipes the tears from her chin. “You won’t be going into this without me. If this is death, then I’m following you into it.”

She opens the back door to the club and escapes me, heading into the dark hall before I can argue with her. Kara coming with me? That can’t happen . . .

Hanna’s talking to a delivery guy in the hall when she glances up. “Aidan.” She doesn’t look terribly surprised to see us. “Is everything all right?” Her eyes move to Kara and back to me.

“I need to talk to Eric,” I say.

“He’s not here. He left last night on a business trip. Maybe I can help?”

I study her as if this is the first time we’ve met. Knowing now that Eric isn’t what he seems makes me wonder if Hanna is one of them. An angel in disguise. Or is he deceiving her, too?

“Where is he?” I ask, voice hard.

She seems taken aback at my push, but she’s not going to budge. “Just tell me what you need, Aidan.”

“Supplies.”

She finishes up with the delivery guy and waits for him to leave through the back door before she motions for us to follow her as she walks in the same direction, heading to the warehouse. After the delivery guy is out of earshot, she asks, “Demons?”

I nod.

She glances sideways at Kara, but Kara’s lost in her own thoughts, following along without a word.

We walk across the parking lot and enter the warehouse through an open bay door. After going through the garage, we walk down a hall, passing several offices before stopping at the end in front of a large door. There’s a keypad and a fingerprint lock on the wall beside it. Hanna blocks our line of sight and types the code in and presses her thumb to the screen. Something in the wall clicks, and a seal breaks with a hiss. The five-inch-thick metal door opens, revealing a large, dark room.

We walk in, and Hanna seals the opening behind us. She turns to another keypad on the inside wall, typing in a new code that results in a loud thunk as the latches fall back into place behind us.

The lights flicker on, one by one, immersing the entire space in a fluorescent glow and revealing rows of shelves.

I’ve never been in here. Eric always brings things into the office if he needs me to check them out. I can see why he’d guard this room so fiercely. It’s a treasure trove. I see a standing globe that can’t be less than six hundred years old, with several wrapped paintings leaning against it. To the left there’s a full wall of scrolls, sectioned off in cubbies and tagged with colors to catalog them. There are countless statues lined up in the far corner: Greek and Egyptian and Persian gods and goddesses. Artifacts cover every surface, in gold and silver and tarnished copper. Jewels glitter from a few items. There’s a huge glass case that’s full of weapons: daggers, broadswords, and bows of all shapes and sizes. And along the wall to our right are crates stacked to the ceiling filled with more stuff. The place is like something out of an Indiana Jones movie. I wonder suddenly if the Ark of the Covenant is in here somewhere, too.

I find myself drawn to a sword that’s more than four feet long leaning against the desk in the center of the room. The desk is covered in scrolls and old books. The sword’s energy seems to hum against the air, tickling the back of my throat.

“What sort of things are you looking for?” Hanna asks.

“Not sure,” I say. “Do you have any hex boxes?”

“I have a Persian spirit bowl,” she says, “but it depends what you want to catch. What kind of demon is this?”

Kara looks curious about my answer to that question, too.

I consider how much I should tell Hanna, but then decide there’s no use hiding it from her. I’m done with secrets. “It’s a possession. I need to get a demon out of a body and into something that can lock it down. Plus, there may be another demon or two hanging around as guards.” Better to be safe than sorry.

She doesn’t seem fazed at all. “So more than one kind. All right. How do you plan on doing the exorcising?”

“I was going to do it the old-fashioned way, immersion in water.” I’ll have the ocean right there—and some herbs and oils.

She shakes her head. “No, no. You’ll have no time for that—not if there’s more than one.” She goes to a shelf and pulls a small box down. After digging around in it she pulls out a necklace. There’s a large amulet on the chain with a Star of David etched in the gold, circled to harness power, and in the center is the word
yatsa
, the Hebrew for “go out,” in its hiphil form, meaning the demon is made to vacate.

I take it from her. The medallion is about the size of a silver dollar and cold to the touch. It’s lightweight, but it’s powerful. I can sense the tentacles of energy just below the surface.

“You have to press it against the sternum of the possessed body,” she says, motioning dead center at my chest where it should be placed. “It’ll force the creature out of the human host. Just remember to say the name of the power source aloud. The demon can sense the energy coming for it, so be careful to time it right, or the thing may harm the body it’s in.”

I consider mentioning that the body is dead already, but I don’t want to see the look on Kara’s face. I don’t want to think about what I did. I killed him. Me.

The medallion singes my palm for a second, and I hiss in pain, grabbing it by the chain instead.

Hanna gives me an odd look.

I slip the necklace in my pocket and walk over to the weapons case, pretending to study the daggers inside.

“Do you have any rowan ash?” That’s always good to keep the darker spirits back—something about the smell, I think. It can also work as a disguise if I smear my face with it. For some reason it confuses lower-ranking demons.

Hanna walks over to a cupboard, looks inside, and pulls out a small jar.

Kara takes it from her and asks, “And maybe some sacred dirt?”

Hanna points to a medium-sized sack next to the door. “You can take the whole thing.”

I walk over and pick it up, tossing it in my backpack. “Thanks.”

Hanna seems to think for a moment, looking at the weapons case, but then she turns back to me. “Be careful.” She moves to the door and types on the keypad lock again, pressing her thumb to the screen.

“I will,” I say.

“
We
will,” Kara corrects.

I don’t acknowledge her comment because I’m not about to get into a debate with her about the fact that there’s no way in hell I’m letting her put herself in harm’s way. I may be willing to run headlong into certain death, but I won’t let her follow me.

Hanna hesitates. She looks back at the weapon case again, and then she seems to decide something. She walks over to the desk, opens a drawer next to the sword handle, and pulls something out. A stone box. As she walks back to us, I realize it wasn’t the sword’s energy that was reaching out to me. It was this. The box is ten inches long and four inches wide, made of alabaster. There’s a winged circle carved in the lid—a “winged sun.” It was a symbol of power in many ancient cultures.

My skin tingles as Hanna holds it out to me.

“Take this with you,” she says, her lips set in a determined line, “but don’t look inside. Not yet. You’ll know when it’s time.”

I stare at her, trying to sense if she knows about me, my abilities. It comes to me in a rush, as if she decided right at this moment to let me in: she knows. Everything.

She looks me straight in the eye. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nod and take the offering.

My skin hums with the box’s energy. I know what she’s saying:
You’ll know when it’s time
—the words Eric used in my death vision.

When it’s time to make the choice.