“Get what?” I asked, confused. The pain in my head had returned with friends, and they were all swinging sledgehammers inside my skull. I placed a palm against my temple in an effort to alleviate the pain. “What are you talking about?”
Erik held the open keepsaker in his hand. A soft golden glow escaped from the small box.
“This totem,” Erik said. “Who gave it to you?”
“What’s wrong? Is it broken?”
“Broken?” Erik said with a shake of his head. “No, but if this is your totem, we may have to strap you down.”
He removed a golden, rune-covered ring from the box.
NINETEEN
“Where did you get this?” Erik asked, holding up the totem. “I swear, if you answer Sauron, Gandalf, or anything to that effect, you will regret it. I mean it.”
From the tone in his voice, he meant it.
When I saw Erik hold up the one ring, my brain raced through so many response opportunities in that one moment. They were all lost…because the moment I saw the ring, an ice pick of pain drove itself deeper into my skull, robbing me of speech.
Erik gestured and I suddenly felt cooler. I felt my arms and legs being strapped down. I realized I was lying on a padded St. Andrews cross. This one was nearly horizontal, as opposed to the usual vertical models I was used to seeing in the Hellfire. On the fringes of my awareness, I heard Peaches whine nearby.
No, I was not the kinky sort, unless you counted the fact that I was involved with an angry, ancient vampire as some sort of kink…then yes, I was extremely kinky. The reason I headed to the Hellfire, aside from it being close to Ezra’s, was Rey’s warning: “Make sure you’re safe before you put it on. It can take you out of play for a bit.”
Being “out of play” while Evers and Talin were out there looking for us sounded like a bad idea. There was no way I could help Monty if Evers turned me into a smear on the sidewalk. I needed someplace I could be out of commission without having to worry about an impending attack.
This far downtown, that meant the Hellfire Club.
The Hellfire was many things, but the most important of them was that it was safe—at the very least, safe enough for this. Erik had a destruction tolerance that had probably exceeded its limit with Monty and me, but he would still help us when he could.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Jessikah asked. “That looks like the…”
“It’s no joke,” Erik answered, turning to the several Harlequin who stood nearby. “Make sure he’s secure. This is going to be pain…not the good kind.”
The pain in my head subsided for a few seconds, and I reached the shore of clarity, if only for a moment. Just enough time for me to capitalize on the presence of this particular totem.
“One ring to rule them all?”
“Didn’t realize you were such a Tolkien fanboy,” Erik said. “Should I expect a tall old man wielding a staff?”
“Hope not,” I said, “but you never know.”
Erik held up the ring again, admiring it.
“Of all the things your brain could have picked, you chose this symbol?” he said, turning it in his fingers. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or concerned.”
“With my brain? Probably both, but I didn’t choose it.”
“You didn’t?”
“At least, I don’t think I did.”
“I do not envy you the pain you will experience today.”
“Can we just pass on the pain…good or otherwise?”
“You shall not pass…on any of this pain,” Erik said with a tight smile. “It’s part of the signature-aligning process.”
“Really? Now?”
“Apologies, couldn’t resist my inner Gandalf. If it’s anything like a mage shift, you’ll wish you were dead many times over.”
“I’m not a mage.”
“I’m aware, and for someone who doesn’t wield energy the way mages do, you do experience many of the situations otherwise exclusive to mages. Is it possible you’re in the closet, or is it more like a wardrobe?”
“I swear if you slide into Narnia, I’ll smack you myself.”
“Just trying to raise your spirits a bit. This is going to be a major suckfest for you.”
“Have I ever mentioned how mage morale building sucks?” I asked as I felt another tsunami of pain cresting. “This is hurting, and I haven’t even put that thing on.”
“This is a particularly powerful totem, Strong,” Erik answered after a moment. “We won’t be able to be in here for long after I put it on you. Do you have any last words?”
“I do?”
“You must not be feeling that much pain if you can still be a smartass,” Erik said, his face grim. “I won’t try and move your hellhound—I do enjoy my fingers attached to my hands—but if it gets bad, you have to send him away, Strong.”
“That bad?”
Erik gave me one slow nod.
“Beyond.”
“Shit.”
“The power in this ring is staggering,” Erik answered. “Any spillover or backlash will hurt even your hellhound. The design of this particular room”—he glanced around—“should mitigate most of the energy released, but I’m not certain. If you manage to survive this, I want to know how you came to possess it.”
“If?”
“Yes, if. I’ve never seen a totem with this much power…ever,” Erik answered, after looking down at the ring again. “I don’t know what it’s going to do to you, or if this room will be enough to contain the adjustment to your scattered signature.”
“That…that sounds promising.”
“I don’t know what you’re mixed up in this time,” Erik answered. “But this—”
“Monty…schism,” I managed. “This should help me help him.”
“Was that you at Haven earlier?”
“Friends of his,” I said, holding off the pain. “Turns out they have some unfinished business with Monty.”
“That explains the Black Orchid,” he said, glancing at Jessikah. “Unfinished business is usually lethal business. Is she here to erase him?”
“She’s one of the good guys,” I said. “There are others…not so good. Those want to take out Monty.”
Erik stared at
