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"I am not sure you would wish to be tied to me so closely," he answered. "And the process is… difficult, for humans. Painful."
I absorbed this. "You would… what, make me into a demon?"
"Not a demon. My hedaira."
"I've never heard of that."
"It's not spoken of," he said. "It… ah, it requires a… ah, a physical bond…"
Was that embarrassment in his voice? Another first, the first time I'd heard a demon groping for words. "You mean like Tantrik; like sex magick?" I ventured, feeling my cheeks heat up. I'm blushing. Anubis guard me, I'm blushing.
"Very similar," he agreed, sounding relieved.
"Oh." I mulled this over, stepping over another puddle. Gooseflesh raised on my back, a chill breath on my sweating skin.
Why am I so nervous?
I opened my mouth to say something when Japhrimel froze between one step and the next. I halted, too, closed my eyes, and sent my senses out, winging through the predawn hush.
Nothing. Nothing but the demon next to me, and the persistent static of city Power—
— and a smell like cold midnight and ice.
My entire body went cold, my nipples drawing up hard as pebbles, my breath catching.
"Dante," Japhrimel said quietly. "Run."
"No way," I whispered. "If he's here—"
"Do not be foolish," he whispered fiercely, catching my arm and shoving me. "Run!" His hands flickered, came up full of silver guns.
My katana whispered free of its sheath, metal ru
And then all hell broke loose. I'd like to say I was of some use once the fighting broke out, but the only thing I remember was a huge stu
CHAPTER 35
Cold.
After the heat of Nuevo Rio, the cold crept into my bones and twisted hard. I moaned, trying to lift my head. My left shoulder burned mercilessly, my right wrist clasped in something hard and chill. Stone under my fingertips.
It took a while before I could open my eyes. When I did, the darkness didn't change. Either I was blind, or locked in a place with no light.
Both were equally possible.
For a few vertiginous minutes after I woke up, I couldn't even remember my own name. Then it all came flooding back.
Plasgun. I'd been hit with a plasgun bolt, set on stun. That explained the temporary blindness—if I was blind—and the way my entire body felt as if it had been ripped apart and put back together wrong. A plasgun charge was the worst thing for psionics; it drained and screwed up Power meridians, as well as giving a hell of a headache.
I moved slightly, and the sound of metal dragging over stone reached my ears.
Chained. I was chained to the stone. A metal cuff clasped my wrist.
I took in a deep ragged breath, moaned again. Yanked on the chain. I was underground, I could tell I was underground, in the dark. My rings scraped stone as I pulled on the chain, metal clanking, another moan echoing against the walls.
Stop it, a cold, calm voice intruded on my panic. Get hold of yourself. You're not dead yet, so look around. Use that famous wit of yours, Da
Santino. He'd been there. Had he snatched me? If so, I had to think, I had to.
I shut my eyes again. The squirming worm of panic under my breastbone started to grow. I had to pee, and the darkness was absolute, and the cold leaching into my bones made me shiver, like the cold of bringing a ghost back.
Anubis et'her ka. Se ta'uk'fhet sa te vapu kuraph. Anubis et'her ka. Anubis, Lord of the Dead, Faithful Companion, protect me, for I am Your child. Protect me, Anubis, weigh my heart upon the scales, watch over me, Lord, for I am Your child. Do not let evil distress me, but turn Your fierceness upon my enemies—
Light bloomed, a faint blue glow. I hitched in a shuddering breath. My eyes popped open.
My rings were dead and dark. The glow came from my katana, lying on the other side of the stone cube with my bag and my coat, thrown in a heap. My plasgun was gone; so was the katana's scabbard. Oh, thank you, I thought. Thank you, Lord. Thank you.
A faint heat bloomed inside my chest. My shoulder ached fiercely, as if a hot poker was being drilled into the flesh. What had happened to Japhrimel?
And why leave me my sword? I was deadly with edged metal.
Then again, Santino had faced me down with a sword before and won; he'd taken the plasgun, which was the only thing faster than a demon. Santino might not fear me even if I had my other weapons.
Let's hope that's his first mistake.
I was trapped in a featureless stone cell with a drain in one corner. A faint sour smell came up from the drain. I wriggled across the floor, not trusting my legs yet.
The chain fetched me up short. I wriggled around, stretching, but the katana was still a good six inches away and I couldn't twist any other part of my body near enough due to the narrowness of the cell. I finally settled on my stomach, staring at the katana's hilt.
I was drained. I had not even an erg of Power left. Taking a plasgun bolt will do that, scramble and drain your Power meridians. I'd either have to wait for a recharge, or…
I stretched out my left hand. My shoulder burned. The faint blue glow helped immensely, even though I could see no way out of the cube. Don't worry, I told myself, if there's a way in, there's a way out.
I lay on my back, my left hand out and reaching, stilled myself. Anubis, I prayed, You have shown me Your favor. Give me my weapon, please. Don't let me die chained like an animal. Please, my Lord, help me, for I have served You faithfully—
I strained, every muscle singing in agony, my heart speeding up, my breathing rising. The blue glow stuttered.
I inhaled, waiting for the space inside me where the god lived to open.
— blue crystal pillars, a flash of light, the god's face, turning away from me. My emerald, flashing, a song of creaking agony.
My katana's hilt slammed into my palm. I gasped, shocked heart and lungs struggling to function—the body needed Power to survive; to drain myself so completely was dangerous, my heart and lungs could stop and tip me into Death's embrace.
When I regained consciousness, I had my katana in hand. The Power vibrating in the blade trickled into me. It helped.
In the glow from my blade, I examined the cuff around my wrist. It took a moment to snag the blade on the strap of my bag, and then once I had my bag I dug in to find my lockpicks. They were there—I said a silent prayer of thanksgiving while I worked on the ancient lock. It took a while, and one fit of whispered cursing at my numb fingers, but I finally tickled the lock open.
Wearing my coat helped with the chill. I settled my bag under the coat, against my hip, and held my katana.
There, I thought, that's definitely better.
I took a few moments to lean against the wall and breathe. The stone cube was windowless, doorless, with nothing but the drain in one corner. There was no Power in the walls that I could sense, but when I closed my eyes and felt around me I discovered two things—that I was still in Nuevo Rio, because the Power here tasted like ashes and tamales and blood, and that there was a dead spot on one wall, where the stone didn't resonate like stone should.
First things first. I relieved myself into the drain, wishing I'd packed some toilet paper in the bag. Really, I scolded myself, you should have known that you'd end up in a stone dungeon with no facilities. That's how these things always end up, isn't it? Who kidnapped me? If it's Santino, why am I not dead? And why in the name of the gods did he leave me my sword?