Page 45 of Demon Loved (The Witches of Mingus Mountain #5)
Better to think about that, and to let her mind tease out the possibilities of a future with someone not of this world, than to allow her thoughts to run into dark alleys that might only lessen their chances of successfully banishing the Collector once and for all.
The others were already gathered on the promontory, all of them wearing jackets or wraps against the chill of the evening.
Still, they looked like an ordinary enough bunch — and Brianna even spied a large telescope set off to one side, a device she knew belonged to Connor and Angela and usually had a place of honor in one of the eastward-looking bedrooms on the second floor of their home.
Most likely, they’d brought it along as protective cover just in case anyone spied them out here in the dark and wondered just what the heck they were doing.
No moon yet; she’d checked the almanac online earlier today and knew it wouldn’t be peeking over the Mogollon Rim to the east until around midnight.
In a way, she supposed it was better to do this under cover of darkness, and yet she couldn’t help thinking it would have been nice to have some friendly moonlight to guide them.
Her father came over and gave her a quick hug. “Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, even as she wondered where her mother was.
Safe at home, she guessed; Hayley McAllister’s powers were strong, but she wasn’t an elder and didn’t have any real experience with this sort of ritual, which meant it was better for her to stand back and wait…
especially when it didn’t seem as if her magic-amplification gift had any real effect on Brianna.
“Then it’s time to form the circle,” Angela said. She’d been standing a few feet away and obviously had realized that she needed to allow father and daughter to have their moment, but now they needed to get started.
No point in putting this off any longer, after all.
The prima moved so she was standing in the spot that denoted true north, while Connor positioned himself so he faced her from the southern pole of the circle. Levi and Tricia and Allegra filled in around them, while Belshegar held out a hand to Brianna.
“We must stand in the middle.”
Brianna followed Belshegar to the center of the circle, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it. The energy from earlier that day rose to meet her at once, stronger now in the darkness, as if it had been waiting for this moment.
“You’ll be fine,” Belshegar murmured, his fingers still wrapped around hers. “Just let the power move through you. Don’t try to control it — instead, act as its guide.”
“Easy for you to say,” she returned in a similar undertone, but there was no real bite to her words.
He was right. If she thought too much about what she was doing, she’d probably mess it all up.
Better to relax into it, to let her body remember what her conscious mind was still struggling to accept.
Angela began to chant something in a voice low enough that Brianna couldn’t make out the words, although she guessed they were simple English, only put together in the proper order to help focus the energies rising all around them.
The other members of the circle began to chant, too, their voices weaving together in an intricate pattern of sound and rhythm.
Her father joined in as well, even though she knew he wasn’t normally big on this way of using magic.
The significance of the moment wasn’t lost on her.
Suddenly, the earth began to glow, just as she’d seen when she and Belshegar walked along this promontory earlier today.
“It’s beginning,” he said. His grip on her hand tightened, although she could tell he was taking care not to press too hard. “Remember what I told you. Direct the energy upward, like a shield.”
Brianna nodded, guessing it was better to remain silent just in case her words might have an unintended effect on the spell Angela and Connor and the elders were weaving.
The air around them began to thicken, becoming almost soupy.
She felt a strange pressure against her skin, as if reality itself was doing whatever it could to push back against the enchantment they were weaving.
The words of the chant grew more insistent, and she sensed the power building beneath her feet, rising through her body, ready to be shaped and directed.
Without conscious thought, she raised her free hand toward the sky.
The golden glow flowed upward, enveloping her in a cocoon of light.
This time, she didn’t try to hide it. Let anyone watching think what they would — she and the rest of the spell-casters had more important concerns to occupy them right now.
The space above them seemed to waver, like the world seen through a layer of plastic wrap.
Brianna experienced a strange doubling of her vision, as if she was seeing multiple realities layered on top of each other.
For a brief, disorienting moment, she thought she glimpsed other versions of the promontory — one covered with snow, another lush and green with vegetation that had no place in Arizona.
“The dimensions are thinning,” Belshegar told her, his voice tight and yet hushed at the same time. “The ritual is working.”
Whatever relief she might have felt at that news evaporated as the air right above them suddenly ripped open.
There was no other way to describe it — a tear appeared in the fabric of reality, jagged and bleeding sickly greenish light around its edges.
The rip widened, expanding until it was large enough for a person to step through.
And someone did.
A man emerged from the dimensional tear, his movements unhurried and elegant, as if he were simply walking through a doorway rather than crossing between worlds.
He wore an immaculately tailored charcoal suit, and even in the strange lighting, Brianna could see that his features were the same as those of the man who’d confronted her in the gallery earlier that day, unassuming enough…
unless you looked closely. His eyes gleamed with dark knowledge, deep and ancient and utterly devoid of compassion.
Behind him came several figures in long, hooded robes, their faces hidden in shadow. They moved with eerie synchronicity, taking up positions around their master like pieces on a chessboard.
“Belshegar,” the Collector said, his voice casual, as though they’d just bumped into each other in line at Starbucks.
“How nice to find you here in the company of your little witch friends.” His gaze swept over the circle, assessing each person, before returning to Brianna. “And who might this be? A new pet?”
Belshegar stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. Even though she would have liked to think she could take care of herself, she still experienced a rush of gratitude at the protective gesture. “You know exactly who she is…and she is none of your concern.”
“Everything that happens in this miserable little town is my concern,” the Collector replied, an edge entering his tone.
He raised a hand, and Brianna noticed the large ring on the middle finger of his right hand, made of heavy gold and set with a stone that seemed to shimmer with all the colors of the rainbow, shifting and twisting in a way that made her just a little queasy.
Then he smiled, and despite the pretended warmth of his expression, a chill still ran down her spine.
“I had planned to conclude our business quickly tonight,” he told Belshegar, “but seeing you here has changed my mind.” He took a step forward, and the air around him rippled, as if his very presence disturbed the fabric of creation.
“I’ll give you one last chance, my friend.
One final opportunity for redemption.” He extended a hand.
“Leave this place and return to your home. It seems you were not the right agent for me, but I will excuse your weakness if you give up this foolish mission to fight for these people.”
Belshegar tensed beside her, every muscle in his human body now seeming as if it had been made of honed steel rather than simple flesh.
His hand in hers had grown almost unbearably hot, and she could sense the way his power had begun to build, preparing for a confrontation she wasn’t sure any of them could survive.
“I have made my choice,” Belshegar said, and his voice was a low rumble, very different from the pleasant baritone Bree had grown used to. For just a second, his body began to shift, to grow huge and hulking, before it slipped back into the human shape he’d been wearing for the past week.
The Collector’s pleasant expression froze, then slowly transformed into something much darker. Right then, he didn’t look as much like an accountant on vacation as a mob boss planning his next hit. “So you have.” He sighed, a sound of genuine regret. “Then I’m afraid we must do this the hard way.”
He raised both hands toward the sky, and the ring he wore flared to life, coruscating with dark shimmers of multicolored light that looked like oil slicks on a sunless ocean. The night seemed to shatter around them as the power of dozens of worlds converged on one point.
And Brianna realized, as a wave of vertigo nearly made her stumble, that she was the convergence point.