“You’re certain the Hammer is there?” Tulane asked.
“Yes.”
Tulane barked a command to the security men. Half of them shouldered their weapons and approached the wall with knives, but it was quickly apparent they weren’t going to be able to get through the wall quickly.
Kelli came to stand at Warren’s side. She hadn’t uttered a word in hours. No emotion showed on her face. Not even a flicker of interest at what they were doing. Warren took her hand and held it, drawing the warmth from her.
“Do you know what you’re doing to her?” Naomi asked quietly.
Feeling defensive, Warren said, “I’m not doing anything to her.”
Naomi’s dark eyes studied him. “If not for you and your control over her, she wouldn’t be here.”
“If not for Malcolm, I wouldn’t have met you,” Warren said. Sometime during the testing phase, Malcolm had left the house. Warren presumed the man had gone back to London, or had other duties at the house. “If not for you and Tulane, I wouldn’t be here.”
“You’d be here,” Naomi said. “The demon wanted you here.”
One of the security team leaders told part of the team to go back upstairs and search for hammers and chisels, anything they could use to chop through the wall.
“The demon could have had me come here without ever meeting you,” Warren pointed out.
“You came to us for other reasons.”
“What reasons?” Warren felt frustrated. All of his life had been dictated to him by someone. First it had been his parents. Then it had been foster care. Lately it had been his flat mates, with their needs and disregard for him.
Naomi shook her head. “I don’t know.” She paused. “Do you hear Merihim?”
Warren hesitated.
“You do, don’t you? You hear his voice.”
“And what if I do?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone who could talk to demons.”
Warren laughed bitterly at that. “But all you people want to do is talk to them.”
“That’s not true. We want to learn their secrets, that’s true. But talking to a demon, listening to it without the proper safeguards, is dangerous. In all my studies, that’s been one of the constants. Our literature and culture are filled with tales of men and women who have sold their souls to demons. Do you think that’s all fiction?”
Uneasiness flickered through Warren. “I haven’t made any trades, deals, or bargains.”
“Are you sure?” Naomi gazed quietly at him. “When you were burning, when you were falling, don’t you think it’s possible you did?”
Warren couldn’t remember those incidents. Everything had happened too fast and been too filled with pain.
“Somewhere in all that confusion and agony,” Naomi said, “are you sure you didn’t reach out to something to save you?”
“I didn’t. I would have remembered something like that.”
“Would you have?” Naomi took a breath. “Demons are filled with trickery, Warren. That’s their nature.”
“And you want to be like them,” he accused.
“No. I want to understand how they use the power they do. I can do a lot of good with it.”
Warren sneered at her. “Is that why you’re here? To do good?” He shook his head. “Everybody is out for whatever they can get. It’s not about power. It’s about power over others. That’s what Tulane wants.”
If Tulane heard the accusation, he gave no sign of it. The security men who’d gone upstairs returned with a few hammers and crowbars. They attacked the wall again, pulling out rocks they chopped free.
“You don’t have to face this alone,” Naomi said.
Warren tightened his grip on Kelli’s hand. “I’m not alone.”
“She wouldn’t be here if you weren’t controlling her mind.”
“I’m not controlling her.” Warren looked into Kelli’s vacuous gaze and saw that she looked right through him. George’s words screamed into his mind again.
“You are,” Naomi replied. “And you may kill her.”
She’s dead anyway, Warren told himself. She’ll never make it out of the city. She’s too weak. He felt guilty at once for his thoughts. But he didn’t feel guilty for having her with him. He’d been alone all his life. Now that he had the power to change that, he didn’t see why he shouldn’t use it.
“Do you want to kill her?” Naomi asked.
Warren looked away from her, staring into the cloud of mortar dust that had formed in front of the wall. He held Kelli’s hand in his, afraid to let her go.
“You’re afraid,” Naomi said.
Warren ignored her.
“I can see it in you,” she continued.
Looking at her then, Warren demanded, “Are you going to tell me you’re not afraid?”
“No, I’m not going to tell you that. The truth is, I am afraid. But part of me is starting to be afraid of you.”
Warren felt a surge of savage joy crest inside him at that unexpected announcement. But it died the moment one of the security guards poked his head into the hole that had been made in the wall.
“We’re through,” the man said. “There’s a room over there. Filled with a lot of stuff.”
Excitement flared within Warren. He released Kelli’s hand and started forward. He felt Balekor’s Hammer on the other side of the wall. It felt powerful, almost overwhelming.
Tulane was there first. The Cabalist reached into a pocket and removed a flash. Switching the beam on, he peered into the room. Then he stepped back, nodding at the security guard commander.
“Make the hole bigger.”
Scratching noises drew Warren’s attention. For a moment he thought it was coming from inside the room on the other side of the wall. Then he realized that it was a trick, an echo created by the size of the room. He turned back toward the furnace.
The scratching grew in intensity, coming from the hollow depths of the furnace. Several of the security guards faced the furnace as well and drew their weapons.
Light suddenly streamed from behind Warren. He turned back to the hole and the room on the other side of the wall, spotting a rectangular opening and a metallic figure that stepped into the room.
Then
