Ryan shot a quick glance to me, then looked back to the Demonic Lord. “You were warned,” he said, voice steady now.
The sound of the gunshot slammed through the small room, and a picture on the far side of the room exploded into fragments. But I knew the bullet had passed through Rhyzkahl’s head.
And left no damage in its wake.
“Ah, fuck,” Ryan breathed, taking a step back.
Rhyzkahl tilted his head back, inhaling and lifting a hand. I froze as I saw the power coiling swiftly into his control, a blue-black arcane maelstrom in the palm of his hand. Ryan could see it, too, and his eyes went wide. But there was no time for him to do anything about it. Rhyzkahl unleashed the force, casting it into the flesh of the one who had attacked him, lifting Ryan off his feet and sending him crashing into the wall.
I let out a choked cry as Ryan crumpled beneath the gaping hole in the wall, blood trickling from his mouth. I stared in horror, silently screaming at him to move. No … not you. You can’t be dead! Oh, please … !
Rhyzkahl released his grip on me and straightened, eyes flashing in satisfaction.
I scrabbled to get off the bed, hideous thick sobs welling in my throat as I tried to get to Ryan, but Rhyzkahl seized me by my hair before I could escape his reach. He yanked me close, twining the hair in his grasp savagely, wringing a new cry of pain from me.
“He is not worth your attention, dear one. A piteous creature who does not even know himself.”
“He’s not piteous!” I flailed at his hand, gaining small satisfaction in striking out at him even though I knew it didn’t hurt him.
His expression hardened. “You should be cautious. Not all are as gentle as I.”
“He’s my partner! He’s watching out for me. You didn’t have to hurt him!”
His expression didn’t change. “I have use of you, Kara. Just remember that there may be others who find you of use as well.”
That didn’t make any sense to me. Was he talking about Ryan?
He abruptly pulled me off the bed and to my knees by his feet, but before I could cry out in protest, the scene shifted suddenly to a place other than my bedroom, a place painfully cold and pitch-dark.
My breath caught in my chest. Had he somehow brought me to his own realm? Or were we in some nether region? The cold burrowed into me, and the darkness was absolute. Shivers racked me, and not just because of the cold. But there was a stench to the place, a mustiness and odor that tugged at my memory.
Before my own memory could assert itself, a pale-blue light flared above us, revealing the metal interior of the morgue cooler. Rhyzkahl kept his grip on my hair, holding me firmly on my knees as I inhaled in surprise. In front of us was a stretcher that held a black body bag. Before I could speak, he made a gesture and the body bag disappeared, leaving just the body of the mutilated young girl, faint flickers of arcane energy barely visible on the body.
A low growl emanated from Rhyzkahl’s throat. “I know the one who laid these,” he said, in a voice that did not welcome response. Then, before I could react, the scene shifted again and we were back in my bedroom, with the crumpled form of Ryan still against the far wall.
Rhyzkahl tilted my head back to look up at him, then reached and stroked my hair, smiling down at me as I shook. Like a dog, I thought, with anger and a measure of shame. I’m like a pet to him.
He released me and turned away. “Do not concern yourself with the one who laid those markings, Kara. He is mine to discipline.”
And then he was gone in a flash of white light.
For a heartbeat, I stared at the place where he’d been, then frantically stumbled over to the still form of Ryan.
“Ryan!” Was he breathing? Had the force of it killed him? “Ryan!”
“Kara?”
“Ryan? Ryan, wake up! Please!”
“Jesus Christ, Kara, would you please wake the fuck up? Don’t make me slap you!”
I blinked up at him, disoriented and breathing raggedly. He stood over me, frowning, still exceedingly in one piece, with no blood on him.
“Oh, holy shit, you’re all right!” I sat up and threw my arms around him before I could think. “I thought you were dead,” I gasped out. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead.” Just a dream. I took deep gulps of air, struggling to dispel the horror of it. Just a dream.
Ryan gave a startled laugh and gave me a squeeze. “Hey, you. I’m not dead. What the hell happened?”
I released him abruptly, suddenly embarrassed by the display of emotion. I ducked my head to hide the hot flush, then brought a hand up to my throat. No bruising, no marks. All still a dream. “H-he taught me a lesson.” I didn’t want to look at Ryan. I hadn’t realized until just this instant how much I’d come to value our friendship, and I was terrified that he’d see it in my face. And not share the sentiment.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice taking on a darker timbre. “What kind of lesson?”