“What happened to them?” Warren asked.
“It’s believed that they were pulled into the demons’ world. That sometimes happens even when someone banishes them.”
“Banishment isn’t the answer,” Tulane said. “Control is. We need to find a way to control the demons, then we’ll have nothing to fear from them.”
Warren gazed at the greenish-black scales that had taken the place of his skin along his left arm. Control wasn’t going to be easy. He looked back into Naomi’s dark eyes.
“What would Merihim want with someone like me?” he asked.
“He let you live,” Naomi said. “I would guess that he wants to claim you for his own.”
“For what reason?”
Naomi shook her head. “I don’t know. But we can attempt to find out. If you’re willing. The way will be hard and dangerous.”
Warren considered that only for a moment. The prickling under the scales on his arm and at the back of his head continued. The way was already hard and dangerous.
“Okay,” he agreed.
Warren lay on his back on a small pad at the center of the room. Naomi was on her hands and knees nearby, drawing intricate symbols on the smooth stone floor with a piece of blue chalk. Yellow-green flames danced atop blue candles that surrounded them.
“Will Merihim know you’re there?” Tulane asked. He stood outside the circle Naomi had drawn.
“I will try my best not to let him.” Naomi put the chalk back into a wooden case covered with carved symbols.
“But if the demon does know you’re there, can he use the connection to come through?”
When Tulane had first heard the idea of spying on the demon, he’d been immediately interested. Now that he’d figured out that Merihim could use that contact as his own, he didn’t seem quite so anxious to get on with things. Warren wasn’t, either.
Naomi sat with crossed legs, her palms resting on her knees. “You know yourself, Lord Tulane, that we don’t understand everything the demons can do. And I’ve never successfully spied on one as powerful as Merihim.”
“You spied on Shulgoth during the invasion after he arrived here. You said it was easier to watch them with your gift while they were here.”
“Only because Shulgoth didn’t try to stop us from seeing all that he was capable of,” Naomi said. “He also remains far beyond our control.”
Fear ran rampant through Warren as he lay on the pad. The smell of cooking flesh—his own, that of the Cabalists in the room that night, and his stepfather’s own scorched flesh—intermingled in his mind.
“This could be a trap,” Warren said before he knew he was going to speak.
Tulane stared at him.
“What if Merihim only changed me like this so he could come here?” Warren asked. “What if his target all along was the Cabalist network?”
A heavy silence fell over the room, letting him know that Tulane and Naomi hadn’t considered that.
“He killed Edith and Jonas effortlessly,” Warren said, “and he reclaimed the Eye of Raatalukkyn that night. It’s possible that he set me free only so that I would come in contact with more of you.”
“I’ll be careful,” Naomi said. “I mean no disrespect to the dead, but I’m far more capable of what we’re about to do than Edith and Jonas were. This is my area of expertise.” She placed her hand on Warren’s forehead. “Rest. Just close your eyes and I’ll guide you through the rest of it.”
Despite his heart hammering and flooding his body with adrenaline, Warren felt the warm lassitude spread throughout his body. Tension drained from him.
“Close your eyes.” Naomi leaned over toward him and pressed her fingertips against his eyelids, keeping his eyes shut.
Momentary panic spurted through Warren. He had to fight the urge to sit up and knock her hand away. In his mind, he could see shadows uncoiling from the wall and coming toward him.
“Relax,” Naomi said. “Breathe.”
Warren did, opening his lungs and filling them with effort.
“There’s a connection between you and the demon,” Naomi said. “He built it for his own reasons, but we can use it.”
The pull of that connection grew stronger inside Warren. The more it pulled, the more he became afraid. He withdrew from it and tried to find some way of building a wall between him and that dark force.
“Don’t fight it,” Naomi whispered. “Go with it.”
“I can’t,” Warren gasped. “I’m afraid.”
“Fear is good. It can give us more strength than we can achieve on our own. Embrace your fear and use it, but don’t give in to it. Breathe.” Naomi paused to let him. “Again.”
Warren drew in his breath at her command, and let it out as well.
“Good. You’re doing good.”
Finding the rhythm she wanted, Warren relaxed a little more. Then the blackness trapped inside his mind seemed to open up and swallow him whole.
Warren stared down at the dark expanse of the River Thames. He stood at the middle of a bridge. Gazing around, he realized that he was on London Bridge.
Scores of stalled cars filled the bridges. Some of them were overturned and more were charred ruins. Bits of wreckage from an army helicopter lay scattered nearby, creaking as the wind moved it. A dead man hung from a safety harness halfway out the door. Another was embedded in the Plexiglas nose.
Sensing movement to his right, Warren faced in that direction. At least twenty demons milled there. They were frightful creatures with guttural voices.
Cautiously, staying within the shadows as much as he could, Warren turned to look for Naomi, only to find that she wasn’t there. Feeling his heart slamming inside his chest, he looked for an escape route.
I’m not here, he told himself. All I have to do is open my eyes and wake up. I’ll be back in the caves. I’ve just got to wake up.
But he didn’t wake
