Chapter Thirteen
THIRTEEN
YRIAN
Yrian returned to the grounds of the festival just in time to see Becket perform her last song, but he wasn’t present for more than a minute before he sensed demons nearby.
Immediately, he searched the crowds looking for either the demons or the vampires that Christian had promised would be patrolling the area.
He found Christian and two of his guards behind one of the food trucks that was in the process of packing up, the ground stained with four sooty spots.
“Four demons?” Yrian asked the Dark One, anger rising that Kashi dared to continue to send his minions after Becket.
“Yes, and another seven that we dispatched earlier,” Christian said grimly. He studied Yrian for a moment, then said, “I won’t deny it has been enjoyable to remove demons from their forms, but in the future, I’d appreciate it if your mate did not perform here again.”
“There’s no sign of the wrath demons?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt prickly, and oddly unsettled, not to mention annoyed that he had missed Becket singing. He made a mental note to ask her to sing for him later, once he had her in a place of safety.
A roar went up from the crowd, and both men turned to look at the stage. That’s when Yrian saw the wrath demon named Andy striding past the food truck, heading straight for where Becket stood with her bandmates, awaiting the awards.
Christian must have spotted the demon at the same time, because he suddenly shoved a sword at Yrian and started forward, but Yrian simply leaped onto a nearby picnic table and flung himself onto Andy’s back, taking the demon with enough surprise that he got in a good swing with the sword before he was sent flying backward.
Andy snarled an oath and, without looking at the left arm that was now mostly severed, lunged at Yrian.
Christian whacked the demon across the back of the head with a morning star, but Andy pulled out a black bit of crystal that elongated into a wrath sword.
It gave off a faint shimmer of black smoke, a warning that it was imbued with curses and banes, all the better to destroy its victims. “Stand back, or you’ll both die! ”
Yrian smiled, relishing the chance to destroy one of Kashi’s minions. “You have a thing to learn if you think to challenge us, demon.”
“Like I care about dragons and Dark Ones? You are the ones who do not know whom you face. I bear the devastation of Bael! None survive when I so choose.”
Yrian didn’t wait; he attacked while the demon was still gloating, his sword flashing in the light of the setting sun, while Christian wielded his morning star.
In the end, the fight lasted longer than Yrian expected.
“I will admit that this one surprised me,” he said six minutes later, panting, his fire raging inside him to the point where the grass around him was merrily burning until he managed to tamp it down. “I didn’t think the demon could stand against us for so long.”
Christian, who had a wicked slash across his chest that was bleeding sluggishly, grimaced as the decapitated corpse of the wrath demon dissolved into an evil-smelling, oily black smoke that drifted away on the breeze.
“I agree. I had not thought wrath demons would be so hard to destroy, but I see I was wrong.”
“It was more than a mere wrath demon,” Yrian said, wiping the blade of his borrowed sword on a bit of cardboard box before returning it to Christian. “Clearly, it carried some sort of favor from Kashi. Do you see the second one?”
“No, but I swear I can feel its presence.” Christian was about to continue when his phone rang. Yrian started toward the stage, hoping to watch Becket win, since he’d been denied enjoyment of her performance, but turned when Christian shouted his name.
“What?”
Christian bolted toward the stage. “The other one has her!”
Yrian didn’t bother to ask for clarification—his blood felt as if it curdled in his veins as he raced past Christian, his mind filled with horror, a terrified chant taking up his mind. Let it be a mistake ... let it be a mistake ...
It wasn’t a mistake. By the time he made it to the back of the stage where three of Becket’s guard stood clustered together, the sensation caused by the demon’s presence had faded away to nothing ... as had Becket.
“Where?” he all but snarled at the Dark Ones, who turned to face him with angry expressions.
“I don’t know. The demon tore open space and hauled her through it,” the woman named Annaliese answered, her gaze shifting beyond him when Christian arrived on his heels.
“We had no sign one was here. One moment, everything was fine, and the next, a demon injected something into her neck and hauled her through the rip before we could take two steps. I don’t know if it was the wrath demon who was here earlier, but I suspect it was.
I’m sorry, Yrian. It’s our fault she was taken.
We should have been on the stage with her, but the festival people insisted we remain back here. ”
Yrian wanted to rage. He wanted to scream, to fight, to destroy those beings who thought they could take Becket away from him, and he wanted badly to blame the Dark Ones for not guarding Becket with more care, but he was an honest man, and he admitted it wasn’t their fault.
“I do not hold you to blame,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he thought furiously.
“These are not normal wrath demons. This one would have destroyed you had you stood in its way. What I want to know is where it has taken her. If it tore the fabric of space, it has limitations as to the destination.”
“Abaddon?” Christian suggested, having had a few quiet words with his guards.
Yrian thought about that, then shook his head and retraced his steps behind the main stage. “I see no benefit to Kashi to have her taken there. I can only think that he wants her in the Duat, but for what purpose, I don’t yet see. She can’t work magic for him there.”
“Perhaps she has something he wants. Some relic or valuable artifact?” Christian asked, falling into place beside him as they strode up the path to the castle.
Yrian still wanted to rage against the injustice of having found a woman who would fill his life as he had so yearned, only to have her snatched from him, but he had given in to his rage before, and all that had resulted was death and destruction to everyone he held dear.
He would not make that mistake again.
“No,” he said after a few minutes’ consideration, all the while wrestling with his fire, which continued to roar inside him, demanding to be let loose. “But the reverse might be true.”
Christian’s eyebrows rose. “You believe Bael has something he wishes to give her?”
“Yes.” His discussion with the First Dragon had been enlightening. “He will most likely give her an object of such power that, using it, she would be able to craft a glamour allowing him to escape the Duat.”
“You mean—”
“The blood moon,” Yrian said with a grimness that gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction. Of course Kashi would do the one thing that would make his life infinitely more horrible. It was ever thus.
“I will contact other Dark Ones,” Christian told him a short time later, while Yrian collected the few things he’d purchased, as well as Becket’s possessions, and accepted the offered use of Christian’s plane to fly to Prague.
From there he would suffer untold torments by using a portal to Cairo.
“If Becket is seen, I will get word to you.”
Yrian offered his hand, as he had learned was the proper way males thanked other males, gravely shaking it. “My youngest brother’s mate informed me that you have your own troublesome ancestor to deal with. I cannot speak for Becket, but I will do what I can to assist you with him.”
Christian gave him a little bow. “The thane in question has gone to ground, but when he is found, we will be grateful for any help.”
They parted with the sense of a debt owed on Yrian’s part, but he set that aside to focus on what was most important: getting to Becket before she entered the sphere of Kashi’s influence.
To his surprise, Ysolde was waiting inside the Prague portal shop when he arrived there an hour later.
“Baltic thought you might need a little help getting through the portaling experience, since you won’t have Becket to put you to rights.
” She smiled as she spoke and held up a bottle of dragon’s blood, and Yrian felt a moment of pleasure knowing that his youngest brother had chosen his mate well.
“He would have come himself, but he got dramatic about how awful portaling is for a Firstborn, with lots of far too detailed descriptions of the sort of torture he’d rather endure over taking a portal, so in the end, we decided I’d pop over and help you get to Cairo. ”
“The portals do not bother you? Baltic said you were part dragon,” he answered, handing over to the attendant the small bit of plastic that acted in place of coin.
“I’m all dragon, but most of it is repressed or something weird like that, because I died and was resurrected, and the First Dragon needed me to save Baltic so he didn’t alienate the weyr,” she said, waving away the subject when the portaling attendant gave him back his plastic and murmured something about the portal being set to Cairo.
“So the answer is no, they don’t bother me in the least. OK, shoes off.
Baltic finds it best if he hugs himself when he steps into the portal.
Oh, and you are wearing undies, yes? Gabriel always loses his pants, and sometimes that effect hits the other wyverns, as well. ”
Yrian bent a stern gaze on her that just made her giggle, but she stepped through the portal, saying, “See you on the other side!”
The next twenty minutes were not ones Yrian wished to relive, but at last, after three paper cups of dragon’s blood, he was up on his feet and able to walk without lurching and holding on to whatever piece of furniture was within grasping distance.