She took a deep breath, set her jaw, closed her eyes, and started walking. Her forward progress stopped, but she pushed against the invisible barrier like a street mime, using her whole body weight. Panic showed on her face. There was a shimmering of the air around her, a sparking of magic that flowed over her skin and raised her hair in a cloud. Then she was inside, so suddenly that she fell to her knees.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Okay, good. Go find your dad. Scream; yell; do whatever you have to do to get his attention. When you find him, bring him back here and wait for us if we’re not here. Most important, stay behind the barrier.”
“But you need me to blow the horn.”
I was frankly hoping neither of us were needed. “If we need you, I’ll send Okalani to get you. But we may be beyond that now. I won’t know until I get there.”
She nodded and then sprinted into the distance, yelling at the top of her lungs, “Dad! Come quick!”
Adriana was alert but hadn’t moved from her comfortable seat. “I’ll remain here. It’s quite possible the instructions will be written in Atlantean. Someone will have to translate them and bring them to you.”
Good point. If the spell needed to be spoken, a faulty translation would be bad.
“Okay, I’m back. What’s next?” Okalani had appeared right next to me.
“What’s going on at the rift? Is that where you took Bruno?”
She nodded and let out a heaving breath like she had been running. “Yeah. He also had me transport his brother and another man in robes to him and the other mages. I would have been back sooner if not for that.”
In robes? “Was he an older white man with an accent? Were his robes all white?” Had she actually transported the Pope to the rift? I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
“No. He had tan skin and black hair and the robes were red and black.”
Ah! Archbishop Fuentes. He was a friend of Matty’s and a damned tough former warrior priest. “Okay. Good job. Now, here’s what I want you to do.”
* * *
I arrived to a scene of pure chaos. I looked around, searching for Bruno or Matty or anyone else I knew, with no luck. “Ma’am, you can’t be here.” I turned my head to see a uniformed Highway Patrolman with his hand on the butt of his service revolver.
I still had the FBI badge Rizzoli had given me and now I hung it so the cop could see it. His stance immediately relaxed. “Sorry. Ma’am. But your friend will have to leave. No kids allowed.”
“What friend?” I didn’t even turn my head. Okalani should already be on the way to her next task. When he looked around for her, she was gone. Just like we’d planned. “Sorry, Officer. The heat must be getting to you.”
He shook his head and wandered off, muttering to himself. I pulled a little on the hair I’d put into a ponytail to keep it out of my eyes, loosening some strands to cover the tops of my ears. Sunscreen can only do so much good.
“Ceil! Where have you been?” I turned to see Creede headed my way. There was a stitched gash across his forehead and a patch of gauze covering half his neck. I felt a pang at the sight. He pulled me into a hug so hard my backpack fell off my shoulder. “I’ve been worried sick about you. Why haven’t you returned my calls? DeLuca said you were right behind him when he got here. That was an hour ago.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but he put his lips over mine and the speed and pure energy behind the kiss left me breathless when he finally pulled away. “Um. Wow. I’ve been…” Where had I been? I looked down at my forearms and held them up. “Weapons. I had to get my stuff together. Where are Bruno and Matty? Are they okay?”
Creede nodded as he put me back on my feet. Oh yeah—he definitely noticed that the kiss had gotten to me and I was trying to change the subject. “DeLuca got here just in time. All of us got beat up pretty bad in that first attack. As you can see.” He motioned to his forehead and then stared at the black gash of space with undisguised anger. “We might still lose Panna and Bordan. They were the first two hit, before we could get a secondary circle up.” He grabbed my hand. “C’mon. I’ll take you to our staging area.”
We race-walked through the crowd and it was a good thing Creede had hold of my hand, because there were even more people here than last time, if that was possible, and I never could have made my way through the crowd without his help. Matty was sitting on top of a steel drum, in serious discussions with three other priests and Archbishop Fuentes. I didn’t know Fuentes personally, but I’d seen him on the news plenty of times.
Bruno was painfully putting his shirt back on. A wide surgical patch of gauze was covering his chest and another strip of white covered the side of his face.
I didn’t even have to pull away from Creede. He just released my hand when he noticed my reaction to Bruno. That simple act made me turn to look at him. I couldn’t tell what emotion was swimming behind the fire in his eyes. He was a solid blank wall. I touched his hand with my fingers and gave him a wink. That earned me a small smile before he turned away to head toward Matty and the others.
“Bruno!” I rushed forward just as he looked my way. Relief made his whole body slump. He opened his arms and smiled. I didn’t throw myself at him because I imagined that would hurt. Instead, I stopped just before we touched and put a hand on either side of his neck. “I was worried about you.”
“You and me both, Celie.” I put my lips against his and he pressed forward, opening my jaw with his. He reached for my waist and pulled me in tight. If it hurt, he didn’t give any sign. I hadn’t kissed him like this in a long time and wasn’t sure what it would feel like—especially considering how Creede had just turned me into butter.
But Bruno had a whole different kissing style than Creede. It made me feel warm and safe and left me wanting more without feeling frantic or out of control. If Dawna asked me which I liked better, I’d have to struggle and probably wouldn’t give an answer.
“I knew you’d come, Celia. I’ve been waiting.” The words boomed through the air, silencing all conversation around us. Bruno abruptly released me and we all stared at the figure of a man, at least eight feet tall and completely naked, watching me from the other side of the barrier. He was … excited, too, which made me turn my eyes away.
You’d expect a greater demon to be hideous—uglier than the lesser ones. But no. He was gorgeous. A beauty so perfect that statues should be carved of his likeness and paintings hung down from the ceilings of cathedrals. He had wings of luminous pearlescent feathers like every cheesy Halloween costume ever made. Except real and perfect and … beautiful.
But it was all for show and I’d seen it once already. “Why don’t you drop the act and show everyone what you really look like. Nobody here buys the fallen-angel story.”
I saw a man in a charcoal suit speak into his hand: “It’s made contact. Get the vice president.”
The demon chuckled low and I hated that the sound pulled at things deep inside me. He definitely had my number. “Perhaps this form would be more pleasing to you?”
I flicked my eyes up and then down again because now he looked like Bruno, down to the gauze, in all his naked glory. The demon looked just the way Bruno did just before really good sex. It was … impressive. “Sorry. Try again. No sale.” Bruno was likewise watching the ground uncomfortably, because that’s not really the sort of thing you want displayed to a few thousand people. Nobody was jeering, though; it was too scary. But a week from now, after we’d all survived? It would be all over the tabloids. “I can’t believe you’re going to all this trouble just to try to get me here to kill me.”