Nausea slammed through me. I clamped my forearm across my belly and fought to keep my knees from buckling. My mind swam with hideous memories of the same vile potency flickering on the blade in Rhyzkahl’s grasp. Steeev screeched and made an inhuman leap from the roof to the ground, with Eilahn hot on his heels. The sigil at the small of my back writhed like a living thing, and I pressed my free hand over it in a useless attempt to still it. “Szerain! Stop!”
Eilahn bristled beside me, teeth bared. “Kiraknikahl,” she said. The word cut through the air like a weapon. Oathbreaker. Growling, Steeev pulled Jill back from the nexus. She’d gone pale and had both hands clasped on her belly. The twelfth sigil flared like branding heat, and I sucked in a hissing breath. Jill let out a sharp cry of pain, and Steeev swept her into his arms and carried her away.
“Szerain! Stop it!” I screamed, fury rising as he continued to ignore me. How dare he use rakkuhr on Earth, on my nexus, and right next to a pregnant woman? Screw this. Maybe his intentions were all rainbows and butterflies, but how was I to know since he refused to tell me? All I had were my instincts, which told me this was wrong and I needed to stop it.
With Eilahn following me like a lithe shadow, I stalked the perimeter of crimson flame in search of a weak point I could use to disrupt Szerain’s process. I stopped to assess each ripple in the pattern, frustration rising as I reviewed and discarded ideas.
Without thinking, I stepped over a small dip in the grass, then paused. I’d known the shallow depression was there because it was in my backyard. I’d lived here most of my life and remembered the tree that fell to make the dip—even knew which hurricane brought it down. And the nexus was mine as well. I’d played a major role in creating this hot spot. My confidence flowed back in, drowning the frustration. Maybe, just maybe, the nexus would listen to its mama.
Going still, I mentally extended—not to the rakkuhr or Szerain, but far below, to the lightning-forged heart of the convergence. I called to it, elated as I felt a sluggish response. “That’s it,” I murmured, weirdly reminded of connecting with the groves in the demon realm. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t need much.”
It didn’t give me much, but it was enough. The ground shuddered, and the arcane light of Szerain’s pattern flickered and dimmed.
Szerain spun to face me, desperation radiating from him as he fought to maintain the integrity of his patterns. Locking my eyes on his, I once again called to the nexus. The air crackled with our combined intensity, but a moment later Szerain let out a strangled cry of frustration and jerked his arms down to his sides. With the abrupt motion, his arcane structures shredded, dissipating both rakkuhr and normal potency with a shrieking hiss. The air around it went as well, and I staggered as the brief vacuum sucked my breath away.
An instant later the sigil at the small of my back went cold and quiet. Szerain strode away from the nexus without a glance my way. Off-balance both physically and mentally, I dragged in fresh air then scrambled to follow as he headed around the house.
“Hey!” I hurried to catch up to him, Eilahn in my wake. “Damn it, Szerain. Stop and talk to me!”
“I can’t stop.” He turned brusquely toward me, though he continued to walk backward. For the first time since arriving home I got a good look at his face. Ryan’s ruggedly handsome features, but far more intense and with dark circles under keen, haunted eyes. “Especially not here,” he went on, jaw tight. “Trashing my nexus grid was like sending up a flare.”
I bristled at his arrogance. “You come here without so much as a phone call, flaunt dangerous-as-shit potency like it’s nothing, and expect me to stand by and twiddle my thumbs?”
“Rakkuhr saved your life not so long ago.” He pivoted sharply and continued toward the driveway.
“Trust me, I remember! And you haven’t answered any of my questions about that.” I broke into a jog to keep up with his long strides. “What’s the purpose of the twelfth sigil? Why is it active?”
“Not here. Not now,” he said without slowing.
“Why not here? Who or what are you searching for?”
“It doesn’t matter now.” He glanced back, and I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. “This is bigger than you. Bigger than me.”
Alarm shot through me. “The Mraztur?” Rhyzkahl, Amkir, Jesral, and Kadir—demonic lords who wanted unrestricted access to this world and didn’t care who got fucked over in the process. “Is one of them on Earth?”
Szerain barked out a laugh, short and humorless. “I’m not afraid of those assholes.” He reached his car and pulled the door open. “Stay low, Kara. Stay off the radar.”
“Gee, that’s so helpful,” I said with a sneer, but his alarm had me unsettled. “Give me a hint of what to watch out for?”
He dropped into the seat and shoved keys into the ignition. “I wish I could.” Before I managed to snap back at that lame response, his entire body jerked as if he’d seized a live wire. Fear spasmed across his face again. “I must go,” he gasped, then slammed the door and cranked the engine.