Chapter 5 #4
His long legs ate the distance at unsettling speed.
Aware of his destination, I rushed to the console, snatched up the Smith and Wesson, and hauled ass up the stairs to my guest room where I found him hovering over Amelia, examining her arm.
He cast a look over his shoulder at the barrel pointed at him.
“Isn’t the first rule of gun ownership not to point your firearm unless you plan to kill or destroy?”
“Those are my plans if you don’t get away from her.
” He made a show of taking slow steps away from her and spinning on his heels to face me.
Walking slowly to me, he only stopped when the barrel was pressed against him.
I wasn’t prepared for that level of unhinged behavior.
Was anyone ever prepared for that level of psychotic behavior?
“You think a bullet is less painful than a knife?” I asked.
He eased my hand up until the gun was pointed at his forehead and relaxed his hands at his sides. Even life with the vampires hadn’t readied me for the likes of Cirrian.
After several moments of contemplation and me glaring at him, I lowered the gun.
“May I?” he asked, taking the gun from me before I could answer.
Placing it to his head, he pulled the trigger.
My mouth dropped open in a reactionary silent scream at the anticipation of brain matter splattered over the room.
After several moments, I managed to clamp it closed, realizing that instead of a traumatizing scene that would be the source of nightmares, an unharmed Cirrian held the gun casually at his side, a small smirk curling the corners of his lips.
When I’d started working for the vampires, I had reviewed all the psychological diagnoses and behaviors to better understand and deal with them.
As an armchair psychologist, I had concluded that most of their behavior would probably place them on the spectrum of narcissism and sociopathy, but with Cirrian, I was at a loss.
I didn’t know how to classify or to deal with him.
“The gun didn’t fire,” I managed once I checked the clip when he returned the firearm to me. “You can’t be shot?”
He nodded.
“But you can be stabbed?”
His smile widened. “Are you getting ideas, Kara? Yes, and it hurts. Immortality has some flaws. But knives and swords have been used against me often.” He shrugged. “I appreciate the tools of my weaknesses.”
Only a masochist could have that level of appreciation for pain and hold their weaknesses in such regard.
He returned to Amelia’s side, examining the markings from the curse and the Heartsoil charm. “This won’t stop the curse. Not even for the forty-eight hours you were expecting.”
Jamillah had been wrong. The sigils were now covering the entire length of her left arm and neck.
“Do you want the three days to save your friend?” he asked, continuing to examine the markings.
“Five,” I pushed.
His stony expression left no room for bargaining.
“What do you want in return?”
He turned to face me. “A favor. I want a favor from you, Kara.”
“What’s the favor?”
“Does it matter? Your desperation didn’t need to be revealed, it’s palpable. You need time to save your friend and I can provide it. I’ll give you three days.”
He waited while I took inventory of my options and the ways I’d retaliate if he turned out to be full of it.
The gun in my hand would be no use; he watched me carefully as I put on the safety and placed it on the dresser.
There were other ways to make my dissatisfaction known if he screwed me over.
Golf club to the groin. No matter how much he appreciated pain, a crotch hit couldn’t be appreciated.
He’d get that. An axe in the closet. He was losing something he’d miss greatly.
I’d make my dissatisfaction known. Unless he grew back limbs like a lizard. I frowned at the possibility.
“If we are to bargain, there must be a modicum of trust. I’ve extended it to you. I expect the same from you.” His request seemed earnest.
I wanted more time. “Five days,” I asserted again.
“Three days is all I can give you. That’s all the time she truly has.”
Cirrian’s expression was inscrutable behind the shadows cast by the room’s dim light. He wasn’t giving off any hint of potential betrayal or ill intentions. It didn’t tamp down my apprehension.
“Remove the curse,” I requested. If he could give me days to lift the curse, there had to be a way for him to remove it.
“I can’t,” he responded evenly. “The curse is attached to her life.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “I don’t know which they wanted more, her death or her magic.”
The latter prodded at the guilt I had about Amelia being caught in the crosshairs of a curse meant for me.
My immunity to wards was an exceptional ability, but was it worth killing for?
My magical resistance to binding and oath spells might be.
Amelia was the only person who knew of the rare ability, and I was confident she’d kept the secret.
We’d agreed it gave me an advantage in the magical world where I had so few.
But if my magic could undo a binding or oath already in place, perhaps it was worth killing for. That thought lingered, heavy and unwelcome.
“If it’s really all you can give, I’ll take it. But I have to know what the favor is.” There were too many pitfalls to open debts.
After a few moments of consideration, he said, “I need to use your magic to release someone. I am not able to do it without your help.”
Talented at expressions that discouraged further questioning, I ignored what was showing on his face because I had plenty of queries that needed answers.
“Is this person dangerous?”
“Everyone has the potential to be dangerous, Kara.” His voice held a sharp edge as he added, “I believe you of all people would know that. After all, my ashinwa, you confidently walk among the vampires. How bold you are.” He brought a finger to his lips.
“I’ll keep your secret because it serves my interest. If they ever discover your abilities, I suspect your vampire sentinel would be more inclined to kill you than protect you. ”
He watched me intently.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
Which was entirely true. He knew things about me that I didn’t know, and whatever he thought I was, he wasn’t too happy about it.
He was tolerating it in order to exploit it.
I doubted he knew how I’d saved Raynard.
But Cirrian’s knowledge of me and my magic was unsettling.
Ashinwa. I committed the word to memory to search its significance later. It obviously meant a lot to him.
“Don’t evade my question,” I said.
He looked at Amelia. The markings had crept up her neck to her jawline.
“Kara, you’re losing precious time. You want to save your friend? I doubt any of the details really matter.”
He was right.
“Life is full of uncertainties. What happens if I’m unable to fulfill my agreement?
” I intended to accept the terms but also needed to understand just how serious the situation was.
To my surprise, my probing questions didn’t raise his suspicions.
His unwavering confidence deepened the unease coiling in my chest. I hated open-ended debts and couldn’t shake the most pressing question: Who the hell could I release that a god couldn’t?
“Then you will become a collection,” he said.
“You’ll kill me?” I simplified, cutting through the euphemisms. If I didn’t fulfill the oath, I’d be killed. Things were getting easier by the moment, I thought sarcastically.
“We are rule-bound not to take a life,” he admitted. The limitation didn’t seem to sit well with him.
A weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying lifted. He wasn’t some omnipotent god—he had rules, boundaries that constrained him.
“That seems to please you,” he noted with a wry smile. “Good. You are bound by the oath. I won’t be the one to kill you. The oath will.”
What good were boundaries when they were so easy to evade on trite technicalities? He couldn’t kill but he’d managed to skillfully dodge that rule.
Without any other viable options, I extended my hand to him. “I agree.”
His grip was firm and surprisingly warm. As he stared into my eyes, a black cast covered his before a cool tingling sensation wound over my fingers up to my wrist.
“Kara…” he paused.
“Takara Bennett,” I provided.
His smile widened, its warmth diminished by his eyes that had turned obsidian black.
“Takara Bennett, you are entering an oath that binds you to a debt to Cirrian Arcaya, shadow god and Collector, and in return you are given seventy-two hours to save your friend Amelia Delgado’s soul from collection by the shadow gods.
It is a binding agreement that holds the clause of secrecy and successful completion of your debt—”
I tugged my hand away at the mention of secrecy. “How do I keep you a secret? William already knows about you.” I didn’t bring up the kinborn witches’ knowledge that I’d also come into contact with him.
“Our agreement is a secret. I’ll make myself scarce.
It’s up to you how you handle your vampire sentinel.
I suspect you’re quite skilled at keeping secrets.
After all, you keep your abilities hidden from those who’d want to see you destroyed for them.
” He sneered. I barely caught his last comment.
“If nothing else, you are talented in the art of secrecy.”
Reducing William to simply a vampire guard showed how removed Cirrian was from this world.
No one would ever be as dismissive of William.
Perhaps Cirrian knew and didn’t care. His magic may have rendered him indifferent to status and in a position to see most magic, skills, and abilities as inferior.
He took hold of my hand again, his eyes locking with mine with a silent request to continue. I couldn’t move past what he said about people wanting to destroy me for my abilities. Vina’s final words returned to haunt me.