Bring Out Your Dead Read online

  Images flashed through my mind—a gray-haired man bent over a flame, muttering obscure alchemical spells as he poured one liquid into another; another gray-haired man, flinching as the first swore eternal vengeance for his betrayal; the flash and pomp of Elizabeth's court; the snow and sleet of endless icy winters in Prague; the smell of smoke as it curled up around me, stealing from me not only my breath, but my very life.

  "Your father threatened another?" Sebastian's voice was soft and caressing, his presence calming the panic within me. I didn't want to answer his questions, didn't want to think back on that part of my life, but I knew I would have to sometime soon if I wanted him to understand me.

  "Edward Kelley befriended a scholar named John Dee early in his life. Dee helped him with much of the alchemical work he later used to parlay favors and money from various monarchs and patrons. But Dee realized that Kelley was little more than a con artist and broke off relations with him. Kelley had some success with carmot, but never fully understood its properties, and soon Dee's fame eclipsed his. He swore vengeance, claiming Dee stole his ideas and his alchemical formulas, going so far as to invoke a curse on Dee."

  Sebastian's hands stroked my back. I shuddered back the anguish that welled up inside me at the memories, taking a small shred of comfort that the soulless, tortured Sebastian was one of the few people walking the earth who shared with me the ability to survive such profound torment. It was a bond of sorts, a wordless bond, but one I felt to my very bones as he offered me acceptance and understanding.

  "He went to Prague to gain help from a sympathetic Emperor Rudolph in bringing Dee's downfall, but things soured, as they always did for him. When he was imprisoned in Prague by Emperor Rudolph, I was arrested as his assistant. My younger brother had been smuggled out of the country by my deceased mother's relatives, but I was beyond their reach. I was tried and sentenced as being in league with the devil. They burned me at the stake for the mere fact that Edward Kelley was my father."

  Pain at the memory choked me. Sebastian said nothing, but continued to stroke my back. I burrowed deeper against him, allowing his comfort to slowly dissipate the agony within.

  "Why were you brought back as a tattu?" he asked softly.

  I let go of the breath I hadn't been aware I was holding. "My mother's mother was a powerful woman in her family. She had Egyptian blood and was viewed as being a noble in a society that did not commonly have such distinctions. She petitioned an archangel, pointing out that as I retained my soul, I could not have been involved in my father's sin of bartering with a demon lord for the curse on Dee. It took time, but eventually the petition worked its way to a sympathetic Power. Two lifetimes after my grandmother submitted the petition for intervention, I was declared innocent by the Power and granted another life to replace the one that had been wrongly taken from me."

  "And when you were reborn, you were given another soul."

  "Yes." I sighed. "That was a clerical oversight, actually. A new clerk only skimmed the resurrection order. He evidently saw the words 'demon lord' and 'curse,' and assumed I was being pardoned for a crime, and granted me another during rebirth."

  "A small repayment for your suffering," he murmured, his mouth close to my ear. I squirmed a little. Baring my history to him hadn't been nearly as painful as I had imagined it would be, leaving me more than a little aware of just how tightly our bodies were entwined.

  "I cannot pleasure you now, my Beloved," his voice rumbled in my ear, sending breathy little shivers of excitement down my arms. "I must destroy the threats to your safety first."

  I pushed myself away from him, glaring with every morsel of indignation I could rally. "Have you heard nothing I've said?"

  "I have heard all you have spoken and read the words on your heart, as well." He caressed my lip with his finger. I jerked my head away.

  "You stupid, arrogant, revenge-minded man!" I snarled, trying to escape his grip. "I will not go through this again. I will not suffer for yet another pigheaded male whose precious ego is more important than those he is bound to!"

  "I do not do this for vengeance, Belle—"

  "Like hell you don't!" Although my insides felt as fragile as cracked glass, I scrambled off him, furious that I was beginning to have feelings for someone who could be so indifferent to my concerns. I stormed to the door, fully intending to grab Damian and Sally and leave him forever.

  Before I could so much as blink, Sebastian was in front of me, not only blocking the door, but holding me in a steely grip that was just this side of painful.

  "You will listen to me, Beloved!"

  "I've listened, and you're not saying anything different—"

  He clamped me tight to his chest, holding me against him with arms that felt made of titanium or some other horribly unyielding metal. My face was squished into his shoulder, making it difficult to breathe.

  "I am not doing this for revenge, Belle. You are my Beloved—I must protect you. If we do not wish to constantly look over our shoulders, waiting for Asmodeus to destroy one or both of us, then I must strike now, before he has had time to rally his forces."

  "But—"

  "No, it must be now. Salvaticus and Vexamen are times of unbalance in Abaddon—the demon lords are watching each other suspiciously to see who will emerge as premier prince. Their attention is divided, and it is one of the few times when they are vulnerable to attack. We have no choice. We must strike quickly."

  What he said made sense to my brain, but my heart, oh, my poor heart flinched in horror at the thought of someone dear to me allowing revenge to rule him.

  It does not rule me, Beloved. You do.

  I gave a watery chuckle at that thought, unable to keep my body from melting into his. You would do anything I told you to do, then?

  Anything so long as it would not put you in danger, yes.

  I thought long and hard then. I listened to the slow beating of Sebastian's heart, drinking in the sight and feel and scent of him, holding them close to my heart as I considered the idea that was slowly taking form in my mind.

  "Can you destroy this demon easily?"

  "Using the ring you have reformed, yes."

  "Do you think it has told Asmodeus about me?"

  "Probably, but I doubt if he has had time to act on the information yet." Sebastian was curious about where my questions were leading, but held that in check while I worked my way through my concerns, issues, and the burgeoning idea.

  "If you destroy the demon, but not Asmodeus, what will happen?"

  "Asmodeus will eventually track you down, and either trick you into his power, or use me to force you to surrender your extra soul."

  I thought about that for a bit, and came to a decision. "Very well, I've thought about it, and I've decided that you can destroy the demon if you like."

  Laughter was rich in his voice. "How very gracious of you."

  I pushed back against now gentle arms, and gave him a glare. "However, I don't want you to make an attempt on Asmodeus until I talk to the Society."

  The laughter in his face and eyes faded. "Belle, I have explained to you why it is important that I strike now—"

  I bit his chin. "Yes, you have, but I think we have another option. However, I must first consult one of the directors at the Revenant Society to make sure what I have in mind can be done."

  Softly, his mind touched mine, his curiosity so great it made me smile. Not one for mind games, I'd normally satisfy his desire to know what I was thinking, but this was a situation I wasn't even sure was possible. I'll tell you about it the minute I know if it's feasible, I told him.

  A war broke out within him, a desire to show confidence in me fighting with the need to protect and safeguard. The fact that he struggled so strongly touched my heart.

  "I think I could very easily fall in love with you," I told him, pressing a quick kiss to his delectable lips.

  His eyes darkened. "Was that meant to be a kiss? Or did you mistake me for your grandmother?"

/>   "Hey now!" I frowned, searching his eyes. "I'll have you know that none of my husbands, not one single one of them, ever complained about my kissing skills."

  "They do not matter," he said, his voice a low growl that turned my bones to jelly. I sagged against him as his mouth descended upon mine. " I do. Either you kiss me as I deserve, or you will not kiss me at all."

  I opened my mouth to tell him what he could do with such an arrogant demand, but fell victim to my own folly when his lips took charge. His kiss was hard, hot, and absolutely unyielding. His body moved against me, his hands touching and stroking whatever he could reach, his hips urging mine into a rhythm of desire. But oh Lord, it was his mouth I couldn't resist, his lips and tongue demanding a response that I couldn't deny. By the time he broke the kiss, I was breathless, gasping for air, my mind filled with the taste and feel of him.

  He looked down at me with a smug satisfaction that was wholly male. I tried to rally a morsel of dignity, a tiny shred of indignation over such a chauvinistic attitude, but my mind refused to cooperate.

  "You are not to leave the suite. I will return as soon as I have destroyed the demon."

  He kissed me once more, sending the few wits I desperately tried to gather flying. It wasn't until he left, tossing commands to the revenants over his shoulder, that I could put myself together enough to protest his order.

  " Vous ressemblez à vous avez été pulled backward through le hedge du prickly," Sally said, drifting over to where I clutched the door frame to the living area. " Vive Monsieur le Sexy Pants, eh?"

  "And how," I answered, touching my lips. They were hot and tingling, the spicy-sweet taste of Sebastian still burning on them. It matched the burn he'd started deep in me, embers of an emotion too fragile to face yet. I shook my head, wondering how he had become so much a part of me so quickly.

  Sally watched me for a moment before softly asking, " Vous l'aimez?"

  I pushed myself away from the door and went to the phone, glancing at the open notebook Sebastian had left. The name and number of a London Guardian was written in a bold hand. I flipped through the book, feeling both pleased and guilty that Noelle's name didn't appear. How could I take such pleasure in a man when it gave pain to my friend?

  "Take a number and join the queue," I said, praying Noelle would forgive me for pushing her to the middle of a list of things I needed to do before all hell broke out.

  "What now?" Tim asked, wandering over as I punched in a phone number. "Are you ordering dinner? I admit I'm a bit on the hungry side, and William there keeps nagging about fading away to nothing if he doesn't get some sustenance."

  "I'll order some dinner for everyone—vegetarian dinner—before I leave," I told him, glancing at the clock. It wasn't too late for the one director I knew to be in the office.

  "Leave?" Tim frowned. "Sebastian said that no one was to leave the suite except the Guardian you were going to call. He didn't mention anything about you going off on your own."

  "It doesn't matter," I said, waving a hand as I waited for the director to pick up the phone. "You'll all be safe enough once I'm gone. I'm just going to the Society and back. Hello, River? Ysabelle Raleigh here. I wonder if you have a few minutes you could spare me. Fabulous. I'll be there in about twenty minutes, all right?"

  I hung up, intending to give a few commands of my own, but when I turned to face everyone, I was met with a wall of unhappy faces.

  "Erm…" I said, a bit surprised by the solidarity of a group of people who had so little in common. Everyone, from Damian clutching William's head by his hair, to Sally, who was supposed to support me in all that I did, stood in a line with their arms crossed over their chests, identical frowns on their faces. "I take it that plan doesn't meet with your satisfaction."

  "Sebastian said no one was to leave," Tim repeated, a particularly obstinate look on his face.

  "Yes, but—"

  "He said the demon would grab you if you left," Damian added.

  I raised an eyebrow at him. "Since when do you care what Sebastian says?"

  The boy gave one of his shrugs. "Nell says we should give him a chance to get over what was done to him, so maybe he's not as bad as Papa said he was. He likes you."

  I was touched by the approval inherent in his statement. "Does that mean you like me, as well?" I couldn't help asking, half teasing him.

  His dark blue eyes considered me for a minute. Then just as I knew they would, his shoulders twitched in a careless shrug. "You don't stink like other Beloveds. I like that."

  Sally snorted as I was put so soundly into my place.

  "We shall be grateful for small favors, then," I told Damian, and considered the line of people bent on keeping me from my purpose. "I suppose a promise that I won't go anywhere but the Society headquarters and straight back wouldn't merit me parole?"

  Six heads shook a negative answer (William appeared to be dozing despite being held up by his hair).

  I sighed. "Very well, you can come with me then, although how we're all to fit into one taxi is beyond me."

  There were a few halfhearted protests, but ten minutes later we emerged from the hotel onto the damp pavement outside the hotel, both William's head and Sally in their respective travel bags.

  "Stop giving me that look," I told Tim in a quiet voice as the hotel doorman waved a taxi up to us. "I told you that I'm in no danger with all of you around. It's not as if the demon is going to spring out of nowhere and capture me."

  Tim opened his mouth to reply, but I never heard the words he spoke. The demon that I'd seen earlier that day ripped open a hole in the fabric of being, wrapped both arms around me, and jerked me backward, away from reality as I knew it.

  Chapter Eight

  Previous

  Top

  Next

  The voices were the first thing I noticed. They were oddly familiar.

  "Is everyone here? Did we all make it?"

  "I'm here, although I'm fair starving to death. Someone lend me a hand. Or a foot. A thigh or two wouldn't go amiss, either."

  " Je suis id, as well. Zut alors! Qu'est-ce le hell?"

  "Papa says they prefer Abaddon to hell," a childish voice said. I recognized it immediately as Damian.

  "Do you think Ysabelle is all right? She is very still."

  That had to be Tim. I was warmed by the concern in his voice, but a bit puzzled by my eyelids' apparent inability to move. They felt as if lead weights had been anchored to them.

  "Is she dead?" William's voice was shamelessly hopeful and not in the least bit muffled, which meant Damian must have taken him out of the carrier bag. "Dibs on her if she is."

  "It would take a lot more than a demon yanking me through the fabric of existence to kill me," I answered without thinking. A moment later I sat bolt upright, staring around wildly as my memory returned. "The demon!"

  " Il a disparu bye-bye avec my boot on its derierre," Sally told me, hovering over me with a worried look in her eyes. " Vous okay?"

  "Yes, I'm fine." I got to my feet, feeling a bit dizzy by the experience of having been pulled through to who knew where. "Erm…

  would someone like to tell me why you're all here? I don't seem to remember the demon grabbing everyone, and the last I saw of you lot, you were about to get into a taxi."

  " Je vous grabbed." Sally patted me carefully, as if looking for broken bones or injuries. "All right, vous n'êtes pas blessé."

  "Thank you for that checkup, Dr. Sally."

  She sniffed and tossed her hair. " C'est my travail, if vous recall."

  "For which I'm very grateful," I said, giving her a little hug. "Now that explains how Sally got here, but what of the rest of you?"

  Damian adopted an innocent look that was wholly at odds with his character. "Sally had a hold of me when she grabbed you. I had William."

  "When I saw them hauled away with you and the demon, we jumped in after you all." Tim beamed happily at me. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him he had probably signed his
death warrant, but I couldn't reward such an act of selflessness and bravery with a dire prediction.

  "Where exactly are we?" I asked, looking around. We seemed to be in some sort of dimly lit cave alcove. Large outcroppings of rock obscured the view, but odd patterns of light danced high on the wall behind me. My stomach tightened as I moved to the entrance of the alcove, stepping clear of the rock.

  Fire. There was fire everywhere. Not just little campfires, the sort I'd learned to act completely normal around… no, this cavern was filled with great pools of fire, burning from some unknown underground source. Snaking between the great, billowing flames, a stone walkway meandered to the far end of the cavern, where a plateau held what appeared to be an office, complete with desk, chairs, bookcases, and a couple of filing cabinets.

  "Oh, God's mercy, we're in Abaddon," I said as my lungs began to struggle for air.

  "No, although I suppose it's easy to see why you could imagine that."

  I whirled around at the mild voice that spoke behind me, my hand already at my throat. The sight of the flames, the smell of the smoke, threatened to overwhelm me. Desperately, I fought to keep under control the panic that welled within me. "Who are you?"

  "I am Simon," the demon said. It appeared in human form, that of a young man with a weak chin and blond goatee. The demon waved its hand toward the narrow path. "I am the steward to Asmodeus. I have never met a tattu before—it is a great honor to have you here."

  "Where is here if not Abaddon?" I asked.

  "This is my lord Asmodeus's home. He prefers this design to the mundane houses, but technically, we are within the boundaries of London."

  "This is all just an illusion, then?" Tim asked, looking around the huge, smoke-filled cavern.

  The demon hesitated a moment. "In a manner of speaking, yes. This location is actually in a house, but it has been altered to an appearance more pleasing to my lord."

  "Damian, come stand by me," I said softly, holding out my hand for him.