“I really hate teleporting.” He glared at Aerolus, knowing he had no right to snap at his brother, but his anger kept him just this side of sane. “Cadmus,” he roared.
“I’m right here.” Cadmus appeared in the foyer sounding as annoyed and discomfited as Marcus felt. “Quit shouting, you’re only adding to my headache.”
“Cadmus,” Aerolus warned, apparently seeing what Cadmus was too dense to realise.
Striving hard to keep himself in control of his emotions lest he flood and destroy everything in his sight, Marcus stared directly into his brother’s brown eyes. “Where. Is. She?” he asked in measured tones.
Cadmus’ eyes widened. “Damn it, cut it out, you’re seriously spooking me.”
Everything around Marcus looked hazy, and eerily, distortingly blue. It was as if the world in which he stood existed, but was buffered by a wall of murky, pulsing water, a liquid world of life and death. He focused his will and his vision cleared, though he still felt as if he stood in water.
“Take me to her, brother,” he commanded Aerolus, conscious his voice sounded off, muffled.
“Control it, Marcus, until you know when to release it,” Aerolus said quietly. “You’re more powerful now than you’ve ever been, and you’re going to need it. Unfortunately, we can’t summon Arim or Darius. Don’t ask questions, there’s no time. I’ll explain it all later, after we’ve rescued Tessa. Both of you, take my hands.” Marcus and Cadmus grabbed him. “Whatever you do, Cadmus, let Marcus lead today.”
“No problem.” Cadmus stared at Marcus with both pride and awe. “Now that waterboy’s back in control, with any luck, he’ll kill the sorcerer and you and I can go home without any affai. Ow.” He glared at their joined hands, then at Aerolus. “What the hell was that for?”
“Focus on the now, Cadmus. Tessa’s life is in danger.”
Cadmus grimaced. “We all know that, Aerolus. But thanks again for pointing that out. Don’t worry, Marcus,” he said seriously. “One way or the other, your affai will leave in one piece with you.”
Marcus nodded, aware Cadmus meant it—that he would sacrifice himself, if need be, to save Tessa and Marcus. “As long as Tessa is safe, that’s all that matters.” His eyes glinted as he stared at his siblings, the men he loved with an intensity that could never be described by mere words. “Be careful, and if I tell you to step back and let me handle the sorcerer, do it.”
Expecting Cadmus to argue, he was surprised when his brother merely nodded. “Well,” Marcus said with a deep breath, his voice sure even if a small part of him teetered on uncertainty, “let’s go.”
Would the pain never stop? Tessa clutched her aching head and glared at ‘Sin Garu, who looked none too pleased with her either.
“If you don’t engage the next one before it reaches that line, I’ll let it and its brethren have you. Really, Tessa, these sentiments of morality are aggravating in the extreme.” He pointed at her and murmured something, and Tessa’s skull felt as it would split in two. “Do as I command, unless you’d rather we retire early?” His expression turned thoughtful as he studied her body from top to bottom, his eyes coming to rest on her breasts.
Stifling an instinctive shudder, she said through clenched teeth, “Fine, I’ll do it. But you’d better pray I never get loose. The minute you turn your back you’re a dead man.”
As soon as the words left her mouth she knew her angry bravado had been a mistake. The sorcerer laughed, the first sincere chuckle she’d heard while in his presence. Then he neared her and leaned close. His breath was both sweet and repulsive, as if it contained whispers of corruption amidst promises of unimaginable desire.
“I’m grateful for the warning, melea,” he said softly and grabbed a hunk of her hair, gripping it in one enormously strong hand. Unlike the Djinn, ‘Sin Garu encountered no repercussions from touching her since arriving in this place, wherever this was. She, however, felt burned with cold where his fingers touched her scalp. “When I’m burrowed deep inside that delectable body, then we’ll see how much you really care.” He yanked her neck to the side and licked her just under her ear, making her whimper at the soul-numbing pain.
“What’s wrong, melea? Don’t you like my touch?” His grip on her hair tightened for a moment before he pushed her away. “Now meet the wraith and draw on its energies unless you want a true taste of my desire.”
Shivering in the gloomy, rock-walled chamber, she nodded just to get him away from her. Seeing her compliance, he stepped back and resumed his seat in a massive red chair that reminded her uneasily of a throne. Sibilant whispers sounded from the dark while flashes of movement surrounded her. Save for the single torch directly over her head, floating there courtesy of ‘Sin Garu, the rest of the large room lay in shadows and darkness.
The sorcerer raised one brow, awaiting her interaction with the approaching monstrosity. Angry with herself for being such a wuss, she nevertheless had no desire to step anywhere near the sorcerer. She’d take her chances with the wraith. While she could stand ‘Sin Garu’s threats and even the migraine-like headaches his experiments and spells produced, touching him had been a like a window into her own version of hell.
The wraith approached, commanding her attention, its bald head unsteady on its papery-thin neck. It looked unnervingly like a skeleton with too many vertebrae. Like the others she’d been forced to encounter, this wraith also had yellow and black mottled skin, large white eyes without pupils or irises, and a mouth of sharp, black, shark-like teeth.
“I’m going to digest you for the next three days,” it hissed softly and began weaving in front of her, a riveting dance of intricate steps that transfixed her as it scuttled closer. Dangerously closer. Before it could do any damage, however, she drew on the memory of Marcus, the talisman she’d been warding thus far in her trip to Twilight Hell. To this point it had worked. The love she felt for him overwhelmed all other feeling, leaving her able to defend and defeat her attackers, with the exception of ‘Sin Garu.
Not wanting to dwell on his obvious threat and praying for Storm Lord intervention before the sorcerer turned his personal attention on her again, she focused on the ravenous wraith before her, opening herself to absorb its energy.
At once her fascination with its dance stopped and a fierce need to kill overtook her. Like falling into a vat of oil, the sensation of contamination oozed over her every pore. She felt a hunger fiercer than the other creatures she’d been forced to combat, and the need to contain that hunger increased the power she squeezed inside.
“No, no, no,” the sorcerer said with disgust. “I want you to let it all out. Or as you pitiful xiantopes would say, stop fucking around.” His arctic blue glare promised retribution if she failed to comply.
It was a wraith, after all, she told herself. Should she fail, it would, as it promised, devour her. Still, the idea of taking a life felt wrong. She knew it was necessary, but the thought of destroying a living being left her feeling decidedly tainted, as if by killing others, even in self-defence, she had somehow crossed to the dark side.
With more a groan than growl, she let go of her inhibitions and proceeded to destroy the creature intent on her annihilation. She directed a wealth of the wraith’s energy immediately back on itself, using its own hunger to ravage its strength until it fell to its hands and knees.
Wielding telekinesis as if born to the task, she mentally pummeled the wraith across the stone floor and against the walls, unable to stem the dark energy seething within her, begging for release. A high-pitched squeal sounded as she threw the wraith over ‘Sin Garu’s throne. It must have hit someone, or something, that loitered in the chamber.