To Dance with the Devil

I pulled onto the street behind some guy in a subcompact and drove away with no muss, no fuss.

Well, Graves, that was next to useless. It was a shame, really, but then again, the plan hadn’t had a lot of promise to it to start with. After all, I already knew that Jack was a murderous thug. I should’ve known he wouldn’t be frightened by what I’d told him. Still, I’d hoped.

I called the hospital again, figuring that as long as I was already in town, I should see Isaac. Checking at the desk, I was told that he was allowed to have visitors. I then followed the cashier’s directions to room 320.

I tapped on the door and was rewarded by Gilda’s voice calling, “Come in.”

When I stepped into the room, the first thing I saw was Isaac himself, sitting up in bed. He was pale and half his face was still swollen and black with bruises. His right arm was hooked up to an IV and various machines. But his left hand held Gilda’s.

She was looking great. She’d pulled herself together this morning and was radiant in an icy pink silk track suit that set off her coloring, and her trademark jewelry, platinum today. Best of all, though, was her smile. It lit up the room. That smile told me the doctors had given the two of them good news.

“Celia.” Gilda beamed at me. “I was going to call you, but the doctor was just here.”

Isaac spoke softly. “He says that, barring complications, I can expect a full recovery.”

“That’s wonderful!”

I saw him squeeze Gilda’s hand. They exchanged a look and she rose. “Celia, come sit. I’m feeling a little peckish. I’m going to head down to the cafeteria and get myself a snack. Would either of you like anything?” She bent down to pick up a handbag that was bigger than some carry-on luggage.

“I’d love a can of soda,” I admitted.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Isaac said, “but close the door behind you?”

“Of course,” she agreed.

I took my place in the chair next to the bed. Before Isaac could speak, I asked him one of the questions that had been simmering in the back of my mind.

“Isaac, I’ve been wondering. The demon rift occurred at a prison. Now this thing with Finn—at the Needle, also a prison. Do you think they’re connected? I mean, two incidents aren’t exactly a pattern…”

“It’s definitely something that will need to be looked into.” He tried to smile when he spoke, but the half of his face that was bruised and swollen didn’t do it well. In fact, he winced a little from pain and I saw a drop of blood form where his lip split open again at the effort. “But that’s not what we need to discuss.”

“Isaac.” I took his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Whatever it is can wait until you’re better.”

“No, Celia, it really can’t.” He seemed to steel himself, and I heard a small sigh escape his lips. “Isabella DeLuca came to visit me yesterday.”

Oh, hell.

“We discussed what needs to be done to restore the protections around the prison.” He sighed. “It will take the energy of the full moon, a mage for each point of the compass, and access to the node.”

Access to the node … I met Isaac’s eyes. The one that wasn’t swollen shut was infinitely sad and terribly weary. “Because of my injuries, I am not physically strong enough to do what is needed and the doctors won’t allow me out of the hospital at any rate.”

Neither would Gilda. Not a chance.

“So John Creede will take my spot on the south point. Isabella has performed node magic before and will take the north.”

Mama DeLuca had used node magic? Scary, but at the same time I wasn’t surprised. Then again, I’d had so many shocks in the last few days that I might have lost the ability to be surprised. Plus I was so damned tired, I just wanted to crawl in a hole and pull it closed behind me.

Isaac continued. “Isabella has had to choose strong mages with a powerful connection to cover the east and west. She will hold the spell together, so she will be protected by the others. But they would do that anyway.” He waited, letting the realization of what he meant kick in.

A strong connection to Isabella and Creede … Bruno … and Matty. The other two mages would be Bruno and Matty.

Tears blurred my vision. I was having a hard time breathing. I wanted to shout my denial, scream at the unfairness. But it wouldn’t do any good. They’d chosen this. I was as sure of it as I was of gravity. The fact that Bruno, Matteo, and Isabella were family would make the magic stronger. The fact that Bruno had shared his magic with John Creede, to give him back his abilities when he’d been drained nearly dry, connected the two of them, which further strengthened the foursome’s power. It made perfect sense. And any one of them would be willing to do whatever was necessary—even sacrifice his or her own life—if it would keep the horrors in that prison locked away from humanity.

They were heroes.

And one of them was going to die tomorrow.

“No.” It was a hoarse whisper, a visceral denial. Tears were pouring down my cheeks. I could barely breathe from the pain in my chest.

“Celia, it is going to happen. It must.” Isaac squeezed my hand.

“There has to be a death, but it doesn’t have to be one of them.” My voice was odd, thick with tears, but it was gaining strength.

“It has to be a mage, and the mage must be killed by magic. You are not a mage.”

He thought I was planning on sacrificing myself? I’m noble, but I’m not that noble. Although for one of them … but it wouldn’t be necessary. I had an idea that might actually work. “What about Connor Finn. What if he dies?”

“Celia…” His voice was stern. I knew just from the way he said my name that he thought I was talking about human sacrifice.

“I’m not thinking murder, Isaac,” I assured him.

“Then what?”

“Karma. Magical backlash. Finn plans to use a blood curse on Michelle tomorrow night.” I paused, then said, “If he can’t kill her—”

Isaac sat up a little straighter. “His own magic will double back on him.”

“And while he might have figured out a way to shield himself from the blood connection—”

“He can’t hide from his own magic.” Isaac’s smile was cold, hard, and just a little anticipatory. “It’s simple and elegant. But can you do it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

27

The drive back was much faster than the trip up had been. When I got home, I called Kevin to make sure he had his laptop. He did. So I used Skype to contact Michelle at the safe house.

“No. I won’t.”

I counted to ten, slowly, trying to keep my temper in check. I’d expected Michelle to jump at the only chance she had for surviving the death curse. Instead, she was balking.

“Why the hell not?”

“This isn’t a hospital. I am not going to have a major medical procedure in somebody’s living room. I won’t do it. Besides, how do you even know they’re going to try a death curse? You don’t. Not really. You’re just assuming they will.”

I stared at her image on the screen. She was still very pale, but her jaw thrust out stubbornly, and her eyes were flashing.

“You saw what happened at the hospital. If we hadn’t gotten you out of there ahead of time, they’d have captured or killed you.”

She flinched. “Yes.”

“We’re doing our very best to protect you.”

“I know. And I appreciate it. But—”