“Aunt Tessa,” I said, leaning forward. “Please tell me everything that you remember about that night.”
Tessa curled her hands around her cup, empty as it was. “Greg and I had both just turned seventeen. Our birthdays were only a few days apart. We’d been playmates since we were just kids—used to spend darn near every waking minute together. When we got older, the friendship just naturally progressed to intimacy.” Her lips twitched. “I guess you could say we were best-friend-fuckbuddies.”
I knew she wanted me to react, but I refused to amuse her. Get to the point, I thought silently.
After waiting a few breaths for me to respond, Tessa began to speak again. “Greg’s mother had been sick for a while, and his father decided that performing an incredibly risky, idiotic, insane summoning was preferable to actually taking her to seek medical help. We knew that it was breast cancer only because Greg had snuck her out and taken her to see a damn doctor.” Anger colored her voice. “At that time, I had no idea what a summoning was or that I had any talent for it. I knew that my mother had a private study that was sometimes locked, but that was about it. But that Saturday night, Greg called me and asked me to come over. He didn’t say so, but I knew he was worried about his mom and didn’t want to be alone. His parents had some sort of dinner party planned for that night, and I figured that meant we’d have lots of time to fool around in his basement.” A ghost of a smile lit her face. “I was doing my best to distract him from his worries, when people started coming downstairs. My mother was among them, which I hadn’t expected. We scrambled to grab our clothes and dove behind a bookcase, figuring we’d hide until they all left again.” She shook her head. “But they didn’t leave. We stayed behind that bookcase and watched as the ritual began.” She set the cup down and stood, moving to the sink to look out at her backyard and the morning sun on the lake beyond.
“Go on,” I prompted after a moment.
Tessa rolled her head on her neck as if trying to ease the tension. “You have to understand the … feelings of guilt that I’ve dealt with all these years. I know it’s not rational, but I feel guilty all the same.”
“Aunt Tessa, why?”
“I could feel the ritual, feel the opening of the portal.” Her voice was low, thready. “It was the first time I’d ever seen a summoning, and I could instantly feel that it was something I could do.” Her shoulders slumped. “And without knowing what I was doing, without thinking, I sat in my hiding place behind that bookcase and I reached out mentally to that portal as it opened.”
“Oh, shit,” I breathed.
“Yes. I altered the forming of it, changed the structure just enough …”
“And Rhyzkahl was pulled through.”
Tessa’s hands were white-knuckled on the rim of the sink. “Yes. Completely unwilling and without any warning. And because it was an imperfect portal, it was probably quite painful for him as well.”
I shivered. The memory of his unshielded fury came back to me.
“He … he’s beautiful, as you know. Angelic. There was a moment, a perfect small moment, when all everyone could see was that beauty, and everyone thought that the summoning had gone as planned.” She turned back to me, hugging her arms around herself. “And then he let us feel the full extent of his anger.”
“I’ve felt it,” I said softly.
Tessa gave a single jerky nod. “It was a bloodbath, a slaughter, but I’ll grant him this: He took his vengeance but did not revel in the suffering. Only enough to satisfy his honor.” A shudder rippled through her. “But it was still a horror to watch. He killed two of the men first, literally ripped them apart. He broke the necks of two women.” Tessa took a deep breath. “The only summoners left were my mother and Peter Cerise. They were both pinned down by his sheer power.” She brushed her hair out of her face, hands shaking slightly. “Rhyzkahl knew we were there, hiding. He looked straight at us. I could … feel his presence, feel him measuring and testing us.” She fell silent for several heartbeats. “I don’t know exactly how he killed my mother, but in one breath she was alive and screaming in terror, and then she just … fell silent, sighed, and didn’t breathe again.” She licked her lips. “Greg’s mother was next. Powers above and below, how he drew that out! Peter Cerise was held down by the unbelievable potency of Rhyzkahl, both legs snapped like dry twigs. Couldn’t move, forced to watch as Rhyzkahl ripped gobbets of cancerous flesh from his wife, that angelic face utterly impassive.”
I realized that my hands were clenched into tight fists under the table, nails digging into my palms.
Tessa dragged a hand across her face. “And then he gathered his power and was gone, leaving the blood and the slaughter.” She made a breathy sound that I realized was meant to be a laugh. “It’s funny. I hate Rhyzkahl for what he did that night, but I could never blame him for my mother’s death. It was Peter Cerise’s arrogance and my ignorance that were the true causes for what happened.”
“Aunt Tessa! You can’t blame yourself like that.”
Tessa turned back to me. “Oh, I know. I was so very young. But Rhyzkahl was merely acting on his nature after being dragged unwillingly through the portal. He took the vengeance he needed to satisfy his honor. Greg’s mother … it was hideous what Rhyzkahl did to her, but … I could see her face. I don’t think she felt any of it. I think Rhyzkahl did it solely to further torment Peter Cerise.”
I struggled to grasp how my aunt could be so accepting of the Demonic Lord’s actions. “What happened after he was gone?”
Tessa took a deep breath, beginning to recover some of her color. “I grabbed Greg—dearest powers of all, but he was hysterical. I was just trying to not think about it. I hated Greg’s dad, hated him so much for making my mother do this thing, hated him for not treating his wife properly. I dumped Greg upstairs, then went back and ran to the garage …” She trailed off.
“Greg told me,” I said gently. “Told me that you burned the house down to cover up what had happened.”
“He didn’t tell you everything. He didn’t tell you what he didn’t see.” Tessa’s voice was flat.
“What didn’t he see?”
“I dumped the gas down into the basement, then lit a towel off the stove and threw that down as well.” She looked at me. “I stayed there long enough to make sure that the place was going to catch fire. I stayed long enough to make sure that the stairs had caught, so that Peter Cerise couldn’t get out.”
I felt as if I’d been punched. “What? I thought he’d been killed by Rhyzkahl.”
“No. He was alive. Rhyzkahl broke his legs and left him to watch it all. He knew that it was a greater revenge to make Cerise live with the memory, the guilt.” Tessa gave her head a sharp shake. “I wasn’t thinking that elegantly. I just wanted him dead.”
I stood. “Aunt Tessa. Are you sure he died in the fire?”
Her thin eyebrows drew together. “When they finally put the fire out, the basement was a mess. And since we never saw him again, I …” She smacked her hand to her forehead. “I never even thought of him!”
“Basements usually have windows or doors, other ways out in case there is a fire,” I breathed. “He’s alive. He’s alive, and he wants to summon Rhyzkahl. It makes sense. That explains how he knew Greg.” I grabbed my aunt by her shoulders. “Aunt Tessa, do you know what he looks like? Do you have old pictures of him? Anything?”
Tessa shook her head. “No, sweets, nothing like that. And if he stayed around here, he must have changed his appearance, because Greg always thought he was dead too.”