He ripped away the strap holding her head and lifted her chin. He parted her lips and pressed his open mouth to hers. He exhaled deeply, freeing the power caged within him. The magic tingled in his throat as it rushed from him to her. He cupped her face and felt her cheeks grow hot with every breath he offered. The release of power made his body tremble with exhaustion.
Alek heard a hissing behind him. He broke the seal and turned in time to catch Alastor’s fist in his face. The force of the punch knocked Alek sideways, and he crashed against the tray of tattoo supplies. A pair of scissors bounced on the ground a few feet from him. He reached for them, but Alastor’s foot connected with his stomach before he made contact. Alek’s ribs crunched and pain spiraled through his core. His breath caught in his throat, and he pushed the hurt from his mind to crawl toward the scissors. He collapsed onto the concrete as Alastor brought his leg back in preparation for another devastating blow. Alek gathered his remaining strength, rolled to his back, and sat up. He clenched the scissors tight in both hands and lifted the shears above his head. He growled with pain as he plunged the metal into the top of Alastor’s thigh. Alastor roared as Alek tore the blades through his muscle and down to the tip of his knee. Alastor’s thigh split like meat. Blood rushed to fill the gap between the muscles. Alek pulled the scissors from Alastor’s leg and scrambled to his feet. He yanked the blades apart and tightened his grip on each new weapon as he circled the injured creature. Alastor’s wails made Alek shudder. The beast crumpled to a heap on the floor. Thick, black blood gushed from the wound, and Alek felt its warm stickiness on his hands.
“I’ll climb back out from that hole in the Underworld. And when I do, I’ll butcher everyone you love,” Alastor hissed between clenched teeth.
Alek crouched on the ground over Alastor and pressed the blades into each side of his neck. “We’ll be waiting.” He sliced through the thick muscle. Blood spurted from the gashes, and Alek turned his head away from the spray.
Alastor’s body twitched and went limp. The basement was silent except for Alek’s labored breathing. He gingerly felt his wounds with his hands, testing his body for damage. It was taking him longer than usual to heal, and he needed to get back to Tartarus before his powers drained, leaving him mortal. Alek dropped his improvised weapons and stumbled over to Eva. Before touching her face, he wiped his bloody hands off on his jeans. Again, he tilted her chin up. He brushed her hair back and blew into Eva the fiery power that led him to her. The power that would awaken the blood of the ancient Oracle.
“Eva?” Alek breathed shallowly and stood, studying her face.
Wind blew through the room, and the bulb hanging from the ceiling cast its light in dizzying circles. A cloud of cackling smoke enveloped them, and Alek felt Pythia’s presence.
“Pythia!” Alek shouted. “Was I too late?” The Oracle didn’t answer. Instead, her laugh grew louder. “Pythia! Answer me!”
A burst of light flashed over Eva and Alek fell backward. The wind and smoke settled, and Eva’s body glowed bright amber. The vibrating light traced her perfectly before hovering above her like thousands of golden fireflies. Eva inhaled sharply. The shimmering light rushed back to her body and collided with a clap.
“Eva?” Alek limped to her side.
Her eyes glimmered bright gold; and quiet laughter seeped from her parted lips. “Thank you, young immortal.”
“Pythia?” Eva’s eyes rolled back in her head, and he studied her chest to make sure it continued to rise and fall.
Gritting his teeth against the searing pain coursing through his ribs, he tore loose Eva’s restraints and reached an arm under her neck and another behind her knees. He slowly carried her to the door and stifled a yelp as he ascended the stairs. Alek felt his powers draining, and he fought the urge to flee to Tartarus. He shuffled out the front door and placed Eva on the lawn. Sirens blared as red and blue lights cut through the night, and Alek lifted his arms in surrender.
Nineteen
Schilling ticked off the facts with his cracked, calloused fingers. “No prints found on the body or at the scene. The scrapings taken from under the deceased’s fingernails didn’t contain any DNA. We have a video of the perp’s face, but it has no identifiable features.”
“And we only have a few hours to find Eva alive,” James added.
“This is a nightmare.”
“I come bearing gifts.” Winslow burst into the squad room, unrolled a wad of papers, and then continued. “Two things. First, an update from Oklahoma Highway Patrol. Federales in Mexico reported thirty-seven similar killings throughout the last decade. Here are some pics. More are on their way.” He handed James and Schilling each a set of shiny papers.
James shuffled through the pictures. “Each of these bodies has the same tree tattoo as our victim.”
“He’s been at it for a long time,” Schilling said, reviewing the pictures.