The demon’s mouth curved in a hard smile. “A kiraknikahl is an oath-breaker.”
A heartbeat later his throne room was gone and we were back in the attic, leaving me no chance to process the meaning of his answer. The knife was still in Rhyzkahl’s hand, and even as I registered the change in the surroundings, he turned and seized Rachel, yanking her away from Ryan in a swift and fluid move. Before she could do more than widen her eyes in shock, Rhyzkahl had plunged the knife into Rachel’s chest, directly into her heart.
She screamed and clutched at the knife, clawing at Rhyzkahl’s hands as he held it buried to the evil hilt in her chest. Ryan sagged heavily to his knees, then looked up at Rachel and Rhyzkahl. His eyes rested on the knife, widening in horror as he scrabbled weakly back, gaze locked on the blade.
Rachel screamed again—a sound a thousand times worse than the scream Ryan had made when she’d begun to steal his essence. Rhyzkahl slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him in what could have been a loving embrace except for the knife he held buried in her chest. I could feel a malevolent coiling of potency filling the room, and I found myself drawing back from the two of them along with Ryan, not stopping until we were both up against the wall of the attic.
“No,” I heard Ryan moan. “No. Not that.” I tore my gaze away from Rhyzkahl to look at Ryan. A look of indescribable grief and horror filled his eyes. He suddenly turned to look at me, then his gaze dropped to my forearm, and, if anything, the grief and horror increased. “Kara. Kara, what did you do?”
I looked down at my forearm, expecting to see the line of blood, but instead I saw a swirl of potency where the cut had been. In the span of three heartbeats, the swirl coalesced to form an intricate mark on the inside of my forearm, as if tattooed there by arcane power. I knew the symbol well. The Mark of Rhyzkahl. I turned away from Ryan. I didn’t need to hear his condemnation. “I did what I had to do.”
The dark-blue gem in the knife’s pommel suddenly flared, and Rachel sagged in Rhyzkahl’s arms. He released her and stepped back, dropping her like a sack of flour. She collapsed into a heap, then, as we watched, her body shriveled and began to disintegrate until, a few heartbeats later, nothing remained but dust and clothing.
I could feel myself taking shallow gasps of breath. Like a fucking vampire in sunlight. Oddly appropriate, though, I thought, in a corner of my mind that was trying to focus on something, anything, to keep from remembering the sound of that last tortured scream.
Rhyzkahl turned to me. He lifted the wicked knife in a mock salute, inclining his head to me. “As agreed,” he said, with no elaboration, glancing briefly to Ryan and then back to me. I didn’t need him to elaborate. He was informing me that he’d fulfilled this portion of the agreement.
I gulped and inclined my head to him. “As agreed,” I echoed hoarsely.
He smiled brilliantly, then was gone.
Ryan slowly got to his feet, eyes on the tumbled pile of dust and clothing that was all that remained of Rachel Roth. I watched him warily for about a dozen heartbeats, but he made no move to turn to me or look at me.
“Are you all right?” I asked. He did look better. Whatever essence Rachel had drained from him had apparently gone back to him when Rhyzkahl destroyed her.
He nodded once without looking at me—a short, quick motion, the barest amount of necessary movement to give the required answer.
My throat tightened, and a feeling like cold lead settled into my stomach. A part of me had expected this sort of reaction, but that didn’t make it feel any better. He’s alive. I’ve probably lost him, but at least he’s alive.
Lost him? I’d never had him. And now it was too late.
I wanted to say something else, but then I decided that I really didn’t. I turned and headed out of the attic and down the stairs, all the time hoping to hear him call out to me, but when I reached the door there was still nothing but a calm ticking silence in the house.
I exited into dusky twilight in time to see a black Crown Victoria screech into the driveway behind Ryan’s car. Zack ran toward the steps, stopping in his tracks when he saw me.
“Kara, I just heard the bolo—” He stopped, eyes on my forearm, face paling. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Ryan’s inside. He’s fine—now. Rachel’s been taken care of. I’m going home.” I walked past him to my car, not looking back.
“Kara …?” He sounded bewildered.
“Ryan’s fine. I’m going home!” I repeated through clenched teeth, then I climbed into my car, slammed the door, and sped off.