Page 81 of Demon Loved
Her lips pressed together. Under the crackle of those brutal energies, her beauty still shone forth, no matter how pale and frightened she looked.
Then she seemed to straighten, and she drew in a breath. Her blue eyes blazed bright as laser beams, and she stared at the Collector with the cold calm of a queen about to pronounce a sentence on a wayward subject.
Voice clear, she replied, “And I know we’re going to stay together…no matter what happens.”
25
Not just this universe, but uncounted others seemed as if they were holding their breath.
Waiting.
Waiting for her to save them.
Just a moment before, she’d felt like one of those witches sentenced to death in Salem, slowly crushed beneath the weight of the stones that stole their oxygen, their life.
Something had shifted, though. Brianna couldn’t say why — maybe it had been the stubborn golden glow that continued to rise from the earth, telling her that this place, this crazy little town that was the only thing she’d ever known, wasn’t about to give up without a fight.
Or maybe it was the way Angela and Connor and her father and Tricia and Allegra hadn’t stopped chanting for a single moment, not when the fragile Allegra had fallen to her knees and Levi had gone to help her back to her feet, not even when one of the Collector’s servants and tried to take advantage of that moment of weakness.
Or maybe…just maybe…it had been the glow of love in Belshegar’s eyes, his fierce belief that she wouldn’t fail them, even when he had to understand that she didn’t know what the hell she was doing.
The evil magic the Collector had summoned surged overhead, blotting out the stars, bringing with it a hellish fire like black lightning. For all its dark strength, though, it wasn’t enough to hide the energies she sensed surging around them. As she looked around with vision that now seemed oddly enhanced, it seemed as though rivers of pure energy in all the colors of the rainbow — searing violet, and serene green, and sunny yellow — bore down upon the hilltop.
Those beams of energy crisscrossed the promontory, connecting to the witches and warlocks in the circle around her, to Belshegar and Brianna, to the Collector and his minions, telling her that even though they might be at odds right now, they still had their own place in creation. Her magic surged, reminding her that even the most dissonant chords could make their own harmony.
Without consciously knowing exactly how she was doing it, Bree reached out and grasped the Collector’s magic, pulling at it like she might pluck the strings of a harp. With each note, it began to shift and change, its sharp edges smoothing, becoming one with all the other energies at play, whether they came from the ground beneath her feet or her fellow McAllisters…or Belshegar.
And he seemed to understand what she was attempting, because it was as if he’d lifted his voice to join with hers, even though neither of them was singing.
No, this was all about their powers coming together, each finding the right space to complement the other, becoming stronger and purer the longer they were mingled.
The glowing energy of Jerome shifted, became in her altered vision more like a huge net that covered the promontory. Not one to capture those within, however, but instead to ensure that nothing could pass that protective barrier.
And somehow Bree also realized that the glowing net extended far beyond this space and time, spanning multiple realities at once, as if it had recognized that an attack didn’t necessarily have to come from this world, not when the Collector possessed talismans that could cross dimensions and summon what he needed to him.
His eyes widened, and again she saw the way his appearance shimmered, for a second revealing a man who looked to be some ten or fifteen years older than she, with cruelly handsome features and white hair shocking against the dark garments he wore.
Was that his real face, or just another guise he’d retreated to when his first false face threatened to disappear?
She didn’t know, because the disguise was back in place now, although with features twisted in fury as he seemed to understand what she was trying to do.
“It’s too much,” he snarled at her. “You’ll never be able to keep this intersection from collapsing!”
But that, she realized, was exactly what she wanted to have happen.
As long as all the pathways to these various dimensions were open, the Collector would have a chance to retreat.
No, she needed to trap him, just like she’d use an upside-down cup to trap a particularly troublesome fly.
The glowing lines of all those dimensional energies began to shift, leaving a rift between them, a place of nothingness, a void.
“Get down!” she shouted at her father and the rest of the McAllisters. “Hold tight to the ground!”
They stared at her, eyes full of questions, but the urgency in her voice seemed to be enough to convince them that they’d better obey. All of them sank to the earth and its covering of dry, scrubby grass, although she noticed that they continued to chant as best they could…and they never let go of one another’s hands.
Good.
She glanced up at Belshegar, and he nodded.
