Dangerous Games

And God, the mere fact that I was even thinking that made me want to puke.

The mortal who once inhabited this flesh has long gone.

Did you kill her?

Amusement ran through the void. You cannot kill a soul. You can only restrain or destroy. The voice paused, as if to add significance. This incarnation will be her last.

Another chill ran through my body, yet I couldn't really feel sorry for Maisie. Not if she was truly responsible for bringing this evil, and the others, into being. Tell me your name.

My name is Caelfind O'Cuinn.

Why was that name familiar? Where had I heard it… then it hit me. O'Cuinn. Quinn's real surname.

Suddenly his secretive ways were making a whole lot more sense.

So, you are related in some way to Quinn?

Quinn?

I formed his picture in my mind, and the presence laughed. It was a mocking, spiteful sound. Ah, my foolish little brother. He thinks he had my mind and body frozen last night while he attempted to breaks me.

As we have broken you?

You merely hold my body and defenses captive. My deep thoughts are still my own, or I would not he answering, now would I?

Couldn't argue with that, I supposed. Why did you raise Azhi Dahaki?

I needed the strength of the three-headed dragon to raise the eternal destroyer.

And why would someone like Maisie want to raise someone like you?

Because in darkness there is strength. Maisie wanted power. I granted her that.

Then you killed her. Or killed her spirit.

The equivalent of a shrug ran through the darkness of Maisie's mind. There is a price to be paid for the granting of one's desires.

And what is the price you paid? Alienation from your family? A life spent in the netherworlds of hell?

I have gained immortality. She made a disparaging sound. And my family has dedicated their worthless lives to ridding the world of both myself and the god of darkness. They cannot see the futility. Cannot admit that darkness exists because humanity itself exists, and that to erase one, you erase the other.

Well, I wasn't seeing the connection myself. I mean, humans could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I very much doubted they were the sole reason for evil's existence. So you're saying Angra Mainyu cannot be destroyed?

He can never be destroyed. Not for as long as there is one human living and breathing on this earth.

With her words came a sense of power, of force. As if she were trying to make me believe that, and nothing else. If that was her intent, then it backfired, because all I could think of was the fact that while this all-powerful god of darkness was still alive—if a spirit could be deemed such a thing—he'd been trapped in the nether regions of hell for hundreds, if not thousands, of generations.

And if it had been done once, it could be done again.

We need to finish this, Riley.

Jack's mental tones were cracked, evidence of the struggle he was having to contain the being inside Maisie's body and mind.

I blew out a breath. Tell me how to rid this world of your dark master, or I will hill you.

Try. You will not succeed. Kill this body, and my spirit will simply claim another.

Annoyance ran through me. But then, overwhelming arrogance and a supreme sense of superiority did tend to get on my nerves. I'd put up with far too much of that during my years with Talon.

Talon…

The mere thought of him had an idea sparking deep inside. A horrible, hateful idea that part of me—the part that had seen the remains of too many women mutilated by this evil and her so-called associates—rejoiced in Jack, am I technically free to do what I wish with this woman now that we've confirmed Maisie is long gone?

Yes.

I opened my eyes and looked at the one-way glass. 'Get me a threaded sheet knife.'

The sheet knives were a Directorate special. Basically, they were thin, clear sheets of plastic that were as rigid as steel and could slice through just about anything—flesh, metal, or wood—with ease. The threaded sheet knives were almost identical, only they were made of a special compound that reacted with blood and disintegrated to reveal the silver strip that ran down the heart of it. Ideal for pinning werewolves and other shapeshifters to human form—a fact I knew for a certainty, having done it to Talon.

If a threaded sheet knife could hold the soul of a werewolf to human form on the night of a full moon, it could surely hold a demonic spirit to human flesh.

It was worth a shot, anyway. Talking and threatening was getting us nowhere fast.

I glanced around as the door opened, and a security officer stepped in and handed me a knife. As he left, I held up the knife.

Amusement ran through Caelfind's thoughts. Am I supposed to feel threatened by something so flimsy?

I thought about the bodies again. Conjured the images of the women, their flesh sliced opened, internal organs gone—eaten—while they lay there dying. Revulsion swept through me, accompanied by anger. I grabbed them both, hanging on to the strength of those emotions, using them as shields as I pressed the point of the knife against the flesh over Maisie's left breast, right above her heart.

Tell me how to rid this world of your dark master, or I will trap you for an eternity inside dead flesh.

You cannot do that. Once this flesh is dead, my spirit is free.

Even the immortal can get it wrong occasionally.

I pressed the blade against her flesh, watching as it sliced through cloth and flesh and muscle and bone with ridiculous ease. Her eyes went wide, and pain began to fill the void. Yet it never touched me, held at bay by either the anger in my soul or Jack's steely presence.

I drove the knife deeper, ramming it through her sternum, lodging the point deep in her heart. Blood began to seep across my fingers, blood that was warm and sweet to my nose, stirring excitement through my veins.

No, no, no, part of me wanted to scream, but I pushed it away ruthlessly, concentrating on Caelfind, watching her eyes, waiting for the moment of her body's death, and the realization that she would never be free.

The knife began to disintegrate, and smoke seeped from the wound, lodging the silver deep inside. Pinning her spirit, the way Talon's spirit had been pinned.

Only she didn't scream the way he'd screamed. She merely smiled and waited, her thoughts filled with pain and yet amused.

Until the moment her heart finally gave out, and her body slumped to the floor.

Then she screamed. Screamed like a banshee, until her fury filled my mind and made it almost impossible to think.

Tell me how to rid this world of your master.

My words were little more than a pebble standing against a cyclone, yet still she heard.