Revenant (17 page)

Caleb
bent over and lit each of the candles. Like the other night, an odd odor filled
the room as the candles started to burn.

Caleb
grabbed the book, and to my surprise, stepped into the pentagram with me. It
was a tight fit inside the powder lines—we stood hip-to-hip.

He
opened the book and held it up. “Now repeat the words as I say them.”

The
spell was long and involved. I struggled along, trying to repeat each word
after Caleb. When the last word left my
mouth,
I felt a tingling come up from the ground and run through my toes. Electric
shocks skimmed across my body.

Caleb
tossed the book to the ground. He pulled
the
dagger
from his waist and held it out in front of him with two hands. He
closed his eyes and raised the dagger up in the air. As he whispered to
himself, he moved the dagger up and down, then left and right, turning to face
me when he finished. He was so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.

“
Turn around
,” he said.

I
didn’t want to. He had a knife in his hand. The last thing I should do is turn
my back on him.

“
Turn around
,” he commanded in a cold voice.

He can’t hurt me, not now, not here, not when
Gage will be back any minute…

I spun
on my toes until my back was to him. I felt him come up behind me. A shiver ran
through me as I felt his body against mine. One of his hands came up and
circled my waist. “Whatever you do, don’t move,” he whispered in my ear.

I felt
the cold blade against my throat. Panic filled me. I started to move away, but he
pulled me back, hissing, “Stand still.”

He’s going to slit my throat
. I tensed, ready to fight for my life. I
felt anger pump through my blood. I could do it—I could raise my magic
and kill him now before he hurt me. The collar was off Dean.
But if I use my magic
…

Dean
had no power of his own. If Jacob came at him with a knife, could Dean take
him? If Jacob raised magic and used it against Dean, would Dean turn berserker
and kill him? Or would he be helpless, unable to fight back?

I
wanted so desperately to call upon my powers and watch Caleb suffer for what he
did to me. But if I did, there was a chance that Dean would
be hurt
. He wasn’t in control of his berserker
nature, so there was no guarantee he could protect himself. I couldn’t risk it.

Caleb won’t kill me here and now. He’ll wait
and do it when no one’s watching. When no one will
suspect
his involvement.

“Ready?”
he asked. I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Whatever
you’re going to do, do it,” I muttered.

The
cold blade rested against my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut and then—

I felt
a prick. A tiny drop of blood trickled down my neck.

Caleb
reached up and slid his finger across the cut on my skin. I felt electric
shocks where his skin made contact with mine. He raised his finger in front of
my face, and I watched a drop of blood slowly fall to the dirt. It hit the
floor.

An
explosion of orange light ripped through the air and blew me off my feet.

When I
opened my eyes, I was laying on the ground. I’d
been
thrown
five or six feet from the pentagram.

What was that?

Caleb
was on his knees a few feet away—he was thrown back, too.
What happened?
He was blinking hard, as
if trying to clear his thoughts. He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw
fear in those eyes. “What are you?”

I
wasn’t hurt
, but I was bruised and shaken. “I-I’m…a
death dealer.” I wanted to believe that was all I was, but I could do things no
other death dealer could do.
What am I?
That very question haunted me.

Before
Caleb could say anything, Gage walked into the room. He surveyed the scene,
then rushed to my side and put out his hand as though to help me to my feet. I
ignored his offer and pushed myself off the ground to stand on shaking legs.

“What
happened?” Gage demanded.

“We
did the spell,” Caleb said. “There was an explosion.”

“Really?”
Excitement filled Gage’s eyes. “I’m sorry I missed it.” He looked at me. “You
really
are exceptional.”

“That
wasn’t part of the spell?” I whispered, brushing dirt off my jeans.

“No,”
Gage answered. “There’s usually just a small burst of light, like the
one
you saw when I shot at Caleb.” His hands
came together, and a thoughtful expression filled his face. “An actual
explosion… You are such a fascinating girl. I can’t wait to find out what
you’re truly capable of.” Gage reached into his pocket and pulled out a
feather. Now, let’s test the spell.” He walked toward me and gave me a smile. “This
won’t
hurt,
I promise.” He placed the
feather in his palm, took a deep breath, and blew it out.

The
feather floated off his palm toward me. When it was just a few inches from my
body, it stopped—as though rebounding against something—and then
started to float in the opposite direction.

“Most
excellent. The spell is working. It will become more discriminating as it
settles in. Of course, it doesn’t stop human touch. Someone could still slug
you in the face or throttle that pretty neck of yours.” He picked the feather
out of the air. “It’s more for inanimate objects. Feathers aren’t much of a
threat. It won’t stop anything really big, like a bazooka or a crosstown bus,
but knives and guns should no longer be a threat to you—unless, of
course, they are enchanted. An enchanted bullet is hard to
come by
. They’re very expensive and very few
mages know how to make an effective one.” He smashed the feather between his
fingers. “Nothing like dropping a pretty penny on a supposedly enchanted bullet
only to have it turn out to be a dud.” He dropped the feather and a slow smile
spread across his face. “Are you ready for the big finale?” Gage asked. He
didn’t wait for my answer, instead walking over to Caleb and holding out his
hand.

Caleb
reached back and pulled out
the gun.
He
placed it in Gage’s hand. Gage pointed the gun at me. I raised my hands and
shouted, “Wait—”

I
barely got the word out before Gage pulled the trigger.

The
gun went off with a loud explosion. I felt like
a
horse
kicked me in the right shoulder. I lifted off my feet and slammed
into the ground, my head bouncing off the dirt so hard that, for a moment, I
was dazed
. Then a burning, searing pain
radiated down my arm.

A
scream of rage escaped my lips, and I lost all control. The hairs on the back
of my neck
rose.
Tingling filled my body.

An
eerie howl filled the air, immediately followed by a dozen more. A gray shadow
formed out of nowhere, raced by me, and headed straight for Gage.

Gage’s
face filled with surprise and he quickly raised his hands to defend himself.

A half-dozen more shadows whizzed by me. The
dark clouds morphed for a split second into the shape of wolves before blurring
back into
mist
, into
fog
, into gray lights that swirled and danced
in the air all around Gage. They darted in at him, forming a near-solid shape
as they attacked. Gage stood perfectly
still,
hands raised, seemingly unconcerned about the threat they posed. Most of the
attacks seemed to turn away at the last moment, but a few got through whatever
invisible defense Gage was mounting. I watched the skin tear open across Gage’s
arm, but he didn’t flinch in pain. His expression was one of concentration and
determination as he stood against my spirit pack.

My
spirit pack. I’m not alone.
Pure joy and relief filled my heart. I could
feel them with me, around me, protecting me.
They’ll keep me safe.

I heard a shout fill the air. I looked over
to see Caleb standing with his feet apart, both his hands full of orange flame.
At his feet, the still-
struggling
form of
a burning zombie tried to rise even as the flames consumed it. Another zombie
rushed into the room, moving toward me at an unsteady trot. When I woke the
zombies, I bound their will to me. But I was Gage’s prisoner, so
Gage controlled my will
. For the first time, I
realized,
they’ll come when I need help
.
Two more zombies entered the room. For a moment, wild thoughts of turning all
the zombies on Gage and saving my friends overwhelmed me.

Then Caleb burned them away. His fire flared
out, burning so hot that the zombie coming toward me stopped as if it hit a
brick wall. The meat dripped off its bones in gobs of burning fat and
blistering muscle. In
seconds,
there wasn’t
enough tissue left to hold the bones together. It slumped to the ground. All
that
remained
was a pile of bone,
ash,
and glowing embers.

I
looked at Caleb and a red-hot anger filled me. With the
anger came
a fire
from within my very depths. I felt it
rising up
,
warming my body and mind. There was no more fear. There was only glorious fire.
My hands rose
up, azure-colored fire hovering in
my palms,
and I threw it with all my strength at Caleb.

There was
real
fear in his eyes now. His fire burned
brighter
in response and
his flames extended out to create a wall of reddish
orange.

My magic slammed against his, colorful sparks
flying in the air at the collision. My blue flames began to wear down the wall
of orange. Caleb’s magic wall shimmered and then, all at once, it exploded. A
million tiny sparks of red and orange shot through the air.

Blue fire twirled and streamed,
unimpeded,
straight toward Caleb. My mind was
full of darkness, full of rage. I looked on gleefully as my magic washed over
him.
Time to pay for what you’ve done to
me
.

Caleb fell to his knees as the fire consumed
him. I dropped my hands. The fire faded. I’d done it. I killed Caleb before he
could kill me.

And then I watched in shock as Caleb rose
back to his feet. He stood there staring at me, completely unharmed. My magic hadn’t
done anything to him. I overpowered his magic, but did no damage.

“Honestly,
I expected more from you, Colina,”
Gage’s voice called out. He
sounded disappointed.

I looked over to where he stood.
Gage had a gash across his
arm,
and little drops of black dripped from a
tear across the middle of his shirt. Was it blood? Blood wasn’t black. The
drops began to smoke, turning to ash and drifting slowly away. The gash on his
arm started boiling like molten oil rising from the
ground,
until a black mist clung to his arm and covered the
disturbing sight. In seconds, the mist faded, leaving an ash coating on his
arm. Gage absently brushed it away, revealing unmarked skin. He had somehow
healed himself.
Just what is he
capable of
?

All at
once, the adrenaline that had kept me going wore off. White-hot pain radiated
down my right arm, crashing through my body. I felt hot liquid slide down my skin
and looked at my shoulder. There was a large hole just below my clavicle where
the bullet hit me. Blood gushed out of the wound and ran down my arm. More pain
hit me, this time filling my mind until there was nothing—nothing but white-hot
agony pounding through me. I let out a scream, crumpling to the floor.

My
eyes fluttered open to reveal Gage standing over me. He had a bored expression
on his face. “The spell should have worked. How odd that it didn’t.”

You monster… You shot me!
I screamed in my head. The world began to
narrow and turn gray. I stared into Gage’s cold eyes right up until the moment
I passed out.

When I woke up, I was laying on
a table.
My shoulder throbbed in time with my pulse, radiating heat
and pain through my whole body. I felt weak and tired, and raising my head
seemed impossible.

After
a moment, I comprehended that I was in the mummy room, laying on a slab that had
likely recently held a rotting corpse. The skin of my back prickled in
disgust,
and I quickly began gathering the strength
to rise. I looked to my left and saw a body on the table next to me covered in
white powder.

I felt
myself begin to gag
, turned my head to the right, and
flinched in surprise when I saw Gage standing beside me. “That’s the
natron
.” He picked up some of the powder off
the body and then let it fall through his fingers. “The drying process has
begun.”

I looked down to where my spirit pack
had attacked him, where there should have been gashes on his arm. But he’d
somehow made his injuries disappear
. How?
What type of magic does he hold?
The dark mist I watched him create and
then brush away reminded me of the magic the demon used. I remembered the demon
blowing out
ash
and using it to make a
hellhound.
Is Gage’s magic as powerful as
the demon’s, or somehow connected to it?
Gage boasted of finding old
spells,
powers thought long lost, but to what
end?

It’s
not what they are, but what they want to become.
Wendy’s words floated across my mind once again. Gage was trying to become more
powerful, to morph into something else. But what? A demon—or maybe
something worse? Was there such a thing?

I’d been trying to hurt him. I would
have liked to have watched him die. I had every intention of killing him, but
here he was, alive and
kicking
.

A cold shiver of panic raised goose
bumps on my skin.
I attacked Gage
. I’d
unconsciously called my spirit pack, but they had attacked him. And I’d tried
to kill Caleb, right in front of Gage. He’d sworn that he would hurt the ones I
loved if I ever turned on him.
Luke. What
did he do to Luke
? It took me two tries before I finally whispered his name
through trembling
lips, “Luke?”

“Now, now, your boys are fine. I know
you didn’t mean to try and hurt me. It was just a gut reaction to lash out once
I shot you. I would have done the same thing under the circumstances. I don’t
blame you
for what you did. It’s totally understandable.”
He gave me a knowing look. “You
were injured
,
in
shock.
You reacted without thinking.
The thing that concerns me is not that you attacked me—it’s that your
attack failed.” He watched me in silence for a long moment before continuing. “You
have such powerful magic. The way you raised the zombies, the fact that you
released a demon… I just can’t understand why your magic was so ineffectual this
time.”

Gage was
actually
upset that my magic failed and that I hadn’t killed him
or
Caleb. I wished I had. How wonderful if my
magic had destroyed them both. Why hadn’t it worked? My mind flashed back to moments
I’d used magic defensively in the past.
I’ve
pushed spirits into the afterlife, I’ve called my spirit pack, I killed
Weatherton…

But
not until he was in spirit form
.

It all started to click in my mind. I’ve
always used my magic against spirits. Does my magic not work against the
living?

I started to sit up, but my head spun
and a wave of pain radiated down from my right shoulder. I realized I couldn’t
move my arm. “How are you feeling?” Gage asked. “You lost a lot of blood, but
the healers I have on staff are top notch.”

Despite his question, I could see there
was no true emotion behind his face; there was no real concern in his eyes when
he looked at me. I struggled to sit upright. Gage watched me with interest but
didn’t offer any help. Finally, on the third try, I pushed myself into a
sitting position using only my left arm.

A black hospital-type gown covered me.
I could feel bandages pressed against the skin on my injured shoulder under the
gown’s material. A black sling cradled my right arm.

Gage gave me a smile and motioned
across the room. “Ian here says you should be fine in a day or two.”

A brown-haired man weaved around the
tables, making his way across the room. Once he stopped in front of me, he lifted
a hand to touch my forehead. As he raised his wrist, I saw a flash of blue.

A blue swallow. My mouth turned dry.
This was
not a gypsy healer—this man was
from a Scottish clan. He was one of my people.

Gage registered my shock. “Ian and I
came to an understanding a few years back.
His
life and the life of his family in exchange for his services.
He has
been quite helpful. He’s an extraordinarily gifted man. I mostly have gypsy
healers on staff, but Ian insisted on taking care of you himself.”

I found myself looking down at the
floor. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest.
Will I recognize his face? Is he someone I’ve seen at festivals and
clan gatherings? Or worse—is he from
my
clan? Will I look into the eyes of a man who, at some time, may have
sat across from me at my
own
dinner
table?

I took a deep breath and forced myself
to look into Ian’s face. I didn’t recognize him. Relief filled me—he was
not someone I knew. He was a painfully thin man, all angles and sharp points,
and he seemed to be bowed by some heavy weight. He might have been old—or
maybe just worn out—and I wondered how long he would last in Gage’s
service. He pressed his fingers against my wrist, taking my pulse. His shadowed
eyes met mine. I expected to see disgust and hatred, but instead his blue eyes
were full of pity. For a brief moment I wondered if I would find the same
reception if I went home. Could it be possible that my clan might not hate me?
Would they instead pity me?

“Ian, this is Colina Campbell,” Gage said,
as though introducing us at some social gathering. “I’m sure you’ve heard all
about her. She is becoming quite legendary for one so young. A healer turned
death dealer who raised a demon and is now creating an undead army. Who would
have thought such a young girl could be so gifted?”

Ian watched me quietly. Worry lined his
face and tinged his eyes with sadness.

He was on Gage’s side—but he
worked for a demon’s henchman in order to keep his family safe. Ian had a
reason to work for the dark side. No one had threatened me when I crossed the
line and entered into darkness. I did it for revenge. And when I crossed the
next line, edging my way closer to that dark abyss, it had been for love.

I felt tears sliding down my cheeks.

“I’ve used my powers to close the
wound,” Ian said in a soft voice. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You will feel a
bit weak for a day or two.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Ian nodded his head, turning and walking
away. I watched him go. Defeat slumped his shoulders and bowed his head. I could
imagine that being in Gage’s employment would eventually break even the
strongest spirit.

Gage reached out and patted my good
arm. “I’m still not sure what went wrong. The spell should’ve worked.”

A wave of dizziness washed over me and I
started to wobble to one side. This time Gage came to my aid. His hand clamped
down hard on my good shoulder,
righting
me. “We’ll have to try it again. Just like with the mummies—
trial
and error.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You
want to shoot me
again
?”

He looked at me blankly before annoyance
crossed his face in reaction to my question. But, just as quickly, his face
cleared and he smiled at me again. “I don’t want to, but it’s an important
spell. It’s one you need to master. Don’t worry, my dear, I am sure that your
failure was a fluke. We will try it again when you feel better. I promise—next
time, we will be extra careful. I still don’t understand why it didn’t work.”

Caleb had helped me with
the spell
…I’d repeated back every word he’d
said. What if Caleb mispronounced or left out words of the spell on purpose? If
Gage had aimed for my heart instead of my shoulder, I would be dead, and Caleb
would have his revenge. What was to stop him from doing the same thing again?

The thought hadn’t even occurred to
Gage that shooting me might be a bad idea. I knew without a doubt that something
was missing in Gage’s mind—he moved through the world without any
understanding of the limitations the rest of humanity put on our behavior. If
it
were
necessary to his plans to kill
hundreds of people—or maybe just for fun—he would go ahead and do it.
He didn’t even give it a second thought. I would never appeal to his better nature,
would never get on his good side, because he didn’t have one. In that moment, I
realized my only hope of survival was in appealing to his self-interest.

My mind raced, trying to think of what
I could do to prevent being shot again.

“The demon has plans
for me, and it would be annoyed if I was killed before I could complete them,” I
said, putting as much edge into my voice as I could.

His eyes narrowed and he was silent for
a moment, and then when he spoke again it was with a self-assured air. “There
is still a chance it could work. I’ve heard it can take a couple of tries
before the spell takes for some young death dealers.” Gage patted my arm
reassuringly. “But then again, we really don’t understand your abilities. The
mixing of healer and death dealer magic has had such interesting consequences.
I’m concerned about your
power…
or lack
thereof.”

My spirit pack had attacked him, but they’d
barely managed to do any harm.

Gage noticed me looking at his arm. “Your…animal
banshees. Hmm… Is that what we’re going to call them? Mildred used the phrase
‘spirit pack.’ How amusing. I’ve never seen animal spirits bound to a mage before.
For a moment I thought I might not be able to fight them off when they came at
me, but all they did was make a lot of angry noises and slash at me a bit.” He
was watching me closely. “Not to worry, my dear, I didn’t hurt any of your
pack
. They whooshed off back into the ether sea
all on their very own.” A thoughtful look filled his face. “I think the problem
is that you don’t have that killer instinct in you yet.”

Killer
instinct?
I looked up at him, trying to
comprehend what he was saying.

“I don’t know why your fire magic
didn’t
work, either.
It went through
Caleb’s hellfire barrier without much effort—which
was
impressive and not something I’ve ever seen happen before.”
Excitement filled Gage’s eyes, closely followed by disappointment. “But I
expected Caleb to burst into flames. I don’t understand how your magic didn’t
hurt him. How is it that your magic is so ineffectual? Well, that’s still a
puzzle that must be worked out.”

His fingers grazed the smooth skin of
his arm. “But these animal banshees of yours weren’t out to kill me. Scare me? Yes.
Kill me? Far from it. There was no real aggression, no instinct to kill
in
them. No true ill will. I think your
healer
background is holding you back.” He
reached out and touched my cheek.

I couldn’t help shrinking back. Gage
was wrong. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill Caleb—and yet I failed.

He looked annoyed, but then he smiled. “There
is
darkness inside of
you
—I can feel it. I think you just need
to give
in
. Surrender. Become
one with it fully
.”

I thought there was no leftover healer light
still inside me. But hearing Gage say I hadn’t completely succumbed to the
darkness brought forth a spark of hope. Was there still goodness inside me? Was
it the only thing keeping me from being one of them? Keeping me from becoming a
cold-blooded
killer?

Gage watched me closely. He wouldn’t be
happy until he’s turned me into one of his followers.

“Don’t worry,” he continued. “We will
work on it.
The
demons only respect strength. If you are not strong enough to stand up to them,
you
will
be their slave. You’ll have
to be much stronger, Colina. We’ll have to rid you of your childish belief in
good and evil. There is only power, and if you want your
share,
you’ll have to take it.
”
He patted my hand and then turned and walked out of the room. A heavy dread filled
me as I watched him go. I knew Gage wouldn’t be satisfied until I could kill
without a second thought.

Just like him.

* * *

Wendy was standing in
the corner when I came through the doors.

I’d expected Caleb to escort me back,
but this time it was Jacob who followed me back to the house. Jacob said very
little to me as we made our way through the tunnels. Jacob didn’t look at me
with eyes full of hatred. I didn’t fear Jacob as I did his brother. But how
different,
really,
was Jacob from his twin?
Jacob willingly followed Gage’s orders. Why would someone voluntarily succumb
his will, his mind, his body to someone as evil as Gage?