Chapter Fourteen

Jacob sat crouched on the head of one of the many gargoyles decorating the old brick building. He turned his sense of smell into the brisk night breeze, trying to gather information, while at the same time he tried to ease the panic that caused his heart to race madly. He looked down to the pavement ten stories below him where Noah was leaning with seeming idleness against the brick exterior of the same building. In truth, Noah was tracking the ebb and flow of the energy around him. Every living thing in the universe had a unique energy signature.

What the necromancers didn't realize was that a Summoning didn't just pop a Demon out of one place and then drop it in another. Summoning converted the victim to a form of its purest energy, and then this energy was dragged through an extremely physical route over however many miles it took to get from the starting point to the end point. This could be tracked with a great deal of ease for those who were skilled.

The problem came at the end of the trail. The closer you got to a necromancer's hiding place, the more con fusing the search became. Jacob had learned during the last rash of Summonings that necromancers were very good at cloaking themselves. They used spells and tokens and several other methods to make themselves invisible to even the strongest of Demon hunters.

It was at that point that Jacob would be forced to rely on instincts and logic rather than senses, the point when he had to try to think through the most sensible place a necromancer might choose to hole up in. Unfortunately, as in the case of Saul, highly populated areas such as the Bronx made the possibilities endless. There had been dozens of warehouses in the area of Isabella's apartment. If not for her premonition, it could've taken him far too long to search them all.

Necromancers, however, weren't very good at remaining inconspicuous. On many occasions, Jacob had rooted them out just by asking the question he'd posed to Isabella that night when they first met. Very often a necromancer's peculiar activities drew attention. And then there was the factor they couldn't hide: their scent. If they'd recently walked the street, Jacob could find them in a heartbeat.

Jacob leapt off the gargoyle, lofting down to street level with fractional increases in his weight and manipulations of gravity. He landed soundlessly beside Noah.

"My trail is cold. Are you having any luck?"

"No," Noah sighed, reaching to rub at the tension in his neck.

"They can't be too far from here."

"Can you sense Bella yet?"

"No, I cannot." Jacob clenched his teeth together.

Jacob suddenly caught a familiar scent in the air.

"Elijah," he and Noah said in unison.

Elijah swirled into form in front of them a moment later.

"What news?"

"Gideon thinks he can find them," Elijah said. "He's searching the area in astral form. He said something about Bella's genetic code being a neon beacon. I have no idea what it means, but it sure as hell sounded good to me."

Isabella was pacing a small arching path on the far side of the pentagram, having decided that putting some distance between her and Legna might help the female Demon regain consciousness.

Two of the necromancers had left the room. The third was busy in the makeshift kitchen a good distance away. The sorceress was still seated on her table, snapping a piece of gum incessantly as she read from a large book that looked as ancient as some of the books Isabella had read in the Demon library. It was clear, however, that the female's attention was divided between the page opened before her and Isabella's movements, which she watched with obvious curiosity.

After a few more minutes, the magic-user put her book down and hopped off the table. She shoved her hands in her pockets and strolled up to the pentagram.

"Hey, you," she addressed Isabella. "What's with the getup? The ribbons and the dress?"

Isabella stopped her pacing, tilting her head and contemplating the other woman.

"I was at a wedding," she said quietly.

It was clear Ingrid hadn't expected Isabella to actually respond, as her eyes went wide.

"A wedding? You guys have weddings?"

"Yes." Isabella stepped a little closer to the edge of the pentagram. "We have weddings, we have husbands and wives and children. We have artists, poets, doctors, and ministers, just like you do."

"Yeah, sure you do." Ingrid snorted with her laughter.

"Why would I lie?"

"Because you're going to do anything you can to save your neck."

"And do our acts of self-preservation differ so much from what you would do if our places were exchanged?"

That remark seemed to make the sorceress uncomfortable. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, snapped her gum, and burrowed her hands deeper into her pockets.

"Yeah, well, if our places were switched, I wouldn't end up looking like that" She indicated the Demon in the second pentagram.

"Are you so sure? The magic you use is full of poison and evil. It may be that it could make anyone look like that. Even a human."

"Yeah right." Ingrid laughed, a short barking sound. "The magic just strips away all this glamour magic you things use. Every Demon we summon is always impossibly good looking. It isn't natural. There's what's natural for you monsters."

"Monsters? What makes us more monstrous than you? You who enslave a living, breathing person and use them viciously, with no sense of mercy or compassion?"

"You aren't a person, you're a Demon from hell. I've read the stories of the mischief, cruelty, and seduction you all take so much delight in. It's what you do that's wrong. But unlike other humans, we aren't so blind to the existence of magic and the disgusting things that live at night, poisoning innocent people with vampirism, lycanthropy, and God knows what else/

"You sound so very sure of yourself."

"Because I know I'm right."

"I wonder," Isabella remarked quietly, "I wonder how you'd feel if our positions were reversed and someone believed that of you. You are, after all, using magic. People will be afraid of you for that."

"Don't be stupid. This isn't the same thing at all. And don't think your sly words are going to work, spawn. I know your tricks."

"You don't know half of my tricks," Isabella said, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Go ahead," Ingrid taunted. "Try it Try and use your spells and magic. I'd love to see you twisting in agony on the ground when the pentagram reflects it back on you. Would serve you right for trying to screw with me."

"You first," Isabella baited her. "Let's see some of this power you use so righteously. Surely it can cross the barrier. Come on, you know you want to fry my insides with that electrical charge you use. Oh, yes," Isabella informed her with a smile when Ingrid's eyes practically popped out of her head, "I've met your kind before. Oh! And look at that! I'm still alive and well. Imagine that," she hissed.

"You're a liar. You're a no-good, lying Demon bitch!"

"You probably knew him," Isabella continued matter-of-factly. "He did say you were some kind of society. I can't imagine it's a very large society. Tall, dark-haired fellow? A cross between a geek and an athlete? No?"

"Shut up," the woman hissed, her hands escaping her pockets and clenching in anger. Ghosts of blue energy began to snap through her aura. "You better shut up or you'll learn real fast how easily my magic crosses the pentagram."

Isabella took a step closer, allowing a taunting smile to play over her lips.

Ingrid, get the hell away from there!" Kyle grabbed the woman's arm, jerking her back from the pentagram. "What're you, stupid?"

"Let go of me," Ingrid snapped, jerking her arm free of his grasp. "It can't cross the pentagram. I was perfectly safe."

Kyle glanced warily at Isabella. She gifted him with a sly smile and was rewarded with the shiver of discomfort that coasted through him.

"So," he said, "you do talk after all."

"I can't vouch for my diction, but yes, I talk."

"Kyle, she doesn't sound like the others," Ingrid whispered fiercely. "They all had that weird accent She sounds like … I dunno … like she's from Brooklyn or something."

"What difference does that make?" Kyle snapped irritably. "She can sound like Scarlett O'Hara for all I care. She's still a Demon. They're all liars and actors, trying to trick us. Stop being so naive, Ingrid."

"I'm not being naive! I'm telling you, I've a bad feeling about that one. It's like she isn't even afraid. All the others were terrified of being trapped."

Kyle seemed to stop and think about that for a moment. He turned and walked over to the second pentagram.

"You! Do you know that one?" He pointed to Isabella.

"That one …" The Demon gurgled with contemplation, its clawed hands reaching to scrape and gouge the wood of the floor on either side of it.

Just then Legna made a soft sound from behind Isabella. Bella turned, torn between what the Demon was going to say and aiding Legna. She hoped that whoever the Demon was, he had not met her. However, it wouldn't matter in the end. He was going to say whatever it was he was going to say and she wasn't able to stop him. She turned to face Legna, watching her raise her head, then draw herself up to her hands and knees weakly. Bella didn't move toward her, afraid that she would affect Legna's regained energy.

"Aine ya hulli caun," Isabella said suddenly, only then realizing she could put her language skill to use for something besides interpreting prophecy.

Legna turned her head toward her, her eyes widening with shock and fear.

"Demon speak," the other trapped Demon chortled. "Demon that one is. Yes."

"What did she say?" Kyle demanded.

Damn it, Isabella thought fiercely.

"Demon speak. Yes …" The Demon pulled an impressively large splinter out of the floor. "Afraid, be not She says to be not afraid to Legna … Indirianna … pretty, tasty Indirianna."

Isabella swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. She knew the Demon had just spoken Legna's power name, she could see it in the weakened woman's eyes as her expression turned to utter horror.

"Lucas," she said hoarsely.

"Indirianna!" Lucas chortled, suddenly leaping about his cage like an excited chimpanzee. "Rentinon Siddah to Indirianna!"

"Lucas!" Legna sobbed, scrabbling over to Isabella's side of the pentagram in order to get closer to Lucas.

"Legna," Isabella warned softly, taking the other woman by the arm and drawing her under her hold. "He isn't the Lucas you know," she whispered into the trembling woman's ear. "Don't provoke him, his reactions will only hurt your heart."

Legna swallowed loudly and Isabella could feel the nausea that washed through her friend.

"How long?" Legna managed to ask, suddenly sitting up and inspecting herself, running shaking hands over her body, raising limbs into her line of sight.

"A little over an hour. Legna, how much time do you have?"

"I do not know. None of us knows. We have only saved one Demon from Summoning in all these centuries."

"Only one?" Isabella repeated in shock.

"Yes, and he was never the same in spite of it. It was as if all of his civilization warred with an insane animal inside of him."

"What happened to him?"

Legna's eyes filled with tears and fear.

"Jacob killed him. He had to. He began to attack our females. When Jacob caught up to him, they had a terrible fight, and Jacob was forced to kill him to save his own life. Oh, Bella … I am so frightened. What will Jacob do when he finds me?"

"Legna … Legna, Jacob isn't going to kill you."

"Jacob the Enforcer! Enforcer comes! Kill me! Kill me, Enforcer!" the wild animal across from them started to taunt, laughing maniacally as he leapt and rolled around his prison wildly.

Legna gasped, and Isabella paled.

"Do you know Jacob's name?" Legna whispered fiercely.

"No. I don't."

Legna sighed with relief, relaxing for the first time since she regained consciousness.

"Good. Lucas is a male Mind Demon, meaning he is a full telepath. He could steal it from your thoughts."

"No, Legna. You forget. I'm immune to telepaths. No one can read me but Jacob."

"Yes, that is right. Yes, good," Legna agreed breathlessly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "But … Destiny help me, without my power I cannot keep him from taking names from me."

"Move away from me, Legna, maybe that will help."

"No. Do not make me leave you," Legna begged fearfully.

"Okay. Shh. It's okay," Isabella whispered, hugging her close. "Let's try and figure something out. Do you know how long the rescued Demon was caught for?"

"I do not. But Jacob told me that it had taken him four hours to find Saul."

"It's okay. Don't be afraid. I won't let that happen to you."

"Hey, spawn. Quit chattering. If you're plotting an attempt to escape, you can forget it," Kyle barked, making Legna start in Isabella's embrace. "Your males couldn't escape no matter how much they tried, so you can bet you're far too weak to even try it"

"Great. A chauvinist necromancer. Just what the world needs," Isabella said dryly.

"You better watch your mouth," Kyle warned.

"Isabella, do not provoke them," Legna begged.

"It's all right I won't" Isabella stroked Legna's coffee-colored tresses comfortingly.

She went silent, and the necromancer seemed pleased at her obedience. He crossed over to Ingrid again, a decidedly smug saunter in his step.

"You see? She's just as afraid as the rest. She's just trying to hide it, Ingrid."

"If you say so. When will we do the first spell? I want to see what kind they are. Especially the small one."

"Give me about a half hour. When the others get back."

Isabella looked up into Legna's eyes. She had heard Kyle as well, and it was clear she was putting her fear aside as she tried to think more logically. Bella almost wished she wouldn't. If Legna began to think about Bella's powers with the other Mind Demon close enough to read her thoughts …

"Pink elephants," Legna murmured. "Pink elephants."

Isabella smiled, allowing herself a small laugh. "Pink elephants in polka-dot dresses," she added.

"Pink elephants in polka-dot dresses with bright red parasols."

"Pink elephants! Pink pachyderms. Dots. Dots everywhere!" Lucas giggled happily.

Legna and Isabella exchanged victorious looks. As long as Legna kept the absurd image in her head, Isabella's identity and abilities were safe from theft. Bella had to admit she would not have had the discipline. She might inadvertently steal power, but she couldn't have stolen Legna's experience, her wisdom, and her centuries of training herself to remain in control of herself at all times.

So they were alone with only two magic-users. Isabella considered it would be a good time to try and escape, but that would leave two others out there who knew Legna's name. She also couldn't depend on Jacob reaching them in time, but it would really help if he were there.

"God, Jacob, where are you?" she muttered against Legna's hair.

Isabella was leaning her weight on her hand, her fingertips brushing the chalked circle that bound them. She noticed this and glanced to see if she was being watched at all. The necromancers were distracted. Using Legna's body as a block for her actions, she could test her ability to cross the outline. Slowly, biting her lip hard, she crept her fingers over the edge of their prison, and then quickly drew them back.

One test successfully completed, Bella thought, with a sigh of relief when there was no adverse reaction. She wasn't bound to the pentagram.

Suddenly, Legna shivered, her entire body locking up. The empath suddenly went lax, falling back onto the floor, blacking out. But then an eerie, soft breeze ruffled the unconscious woman's dress and hair. A moment later her eyes opened and she sat back up. She looked straight at Isabella.

"Greetings, little Enforcer," she said, her silver eyes flickering with experience of the ages.

"Gideon?" Bella whispered in shock.

"None other." Gideon stood up, his way of carrying himself radiating distinctively through Legna's figure. He looked around slowly, assessing everything he saw. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated.

After a long moment, the medic settled Legna's body across from her, sitting with one knee raised and her wrist resting leisurely on it. It was such a distinctly male position that Isabella had to turn down her eyes before she ended up laughing.

"Tell me what you know," he instructed with his usual lack of gentility.

"Four necromancers, three males and one female, and, as you see, Lucas." She indicated the Demon across the way. She paused. "Gideon, how is it that I'm here?"

"I do not know the truth of the matter. I have hypothesized, and when my research is complete, I will give you the fact of it"

"Gideon," she growled low between her teeth. "I'll settle for your best guess."

"Very well. A Demon's name is attached to the essence of that Demon's power. A power that you were absorbing at the moment of Legna's Summoning. My guess is that because of this, you were mistaken for the actual target and were drawn into the Summoning just as Legna was."

"Oh. I see."

"An act of providence, Enforcer. My internal diagnostic of Legna tells me that she is whole and well, unaffected by this trap. I suspect you are nullifying the energy that would cause her to transform."

"Hey! Didn't I tell you two to stop chattering?" Kyle barked from across the room.

Gideon glanced at the necromancer as if he were some sort of pesky fly.

She leaned in to whisper. "Where is Legna?"

"I sent her to sleep. She is safe in her subconscious."

"I didn't know you could do this."

"Have you never heard of Demonic possession?"

Isabella's spine straightened in surprise. If she didn't know better, she'd think Gideon had just cracked a joke. But his countenance was just as matter-of-fact as it had always been.

"That tears it. I'm going to teach you a lesson, spawn," Kyle spat, marching up to the pentagram, his brown eyes full of indignant anger.

"What does it matter if we talk to each other, necromancer? Are you so afraid that you might not be able to hold us?" Bella countered, trying to toy with his psychology in order to keep him from doing anything that would reveal the truth of the matter.

"Hardly!" He snorted. "But you'll learn to obey me, you little bitch."

Kyle glanced around, clearly trying to decide on a form of punishment Isabella's breath started to come a little faster and she sought the comfort of Gideon's silver eyes. Instead, she saw them close and a moment later Legna's body dropped lifelessly to the floor.

"You made that one faint," laughed Ingrid. "That's just too funny! Come on, Kyle. Teach that one a lesson. She's the one that deserves it"

Isabella suddenly rose up to her feet, bracing them apart and settling her closed fists on her hips. She wouldn't meet his threat sitting on the floor like some little weakling.

"Kyle, what's going on?"

The necromancer turned to see the other two had returned.

"Good. You're back. Let's start the spell. I can't wait to hear these two scream."

Isabella crossed the width of the large symbol, coming right to the edge closest to the magic-users. They ignored her as they began to join hands and form a crude standing circle. She heard Legna move somewhere behind her, just as Lucas started to screech. Monster or not, it was clear that he was very familiar with the ritual they were starting and that he was utterly terrified of it.

"Bella?"

"Stay back, gather your strength," she hissed to Legna.

Sparks of blue light began to sparkle like tiny fireworks around the chanting necromancers.

Hurry, Gideon, hurry! she prayed fiercely.

We are coming, little flower.

Isabella was so unbelievably relieved to hear that powerful, loving voice in her head that she felt like crying.

Jacob! Please, I can't do this alone! I can't protect Legna and fight necromancers and one of the Transformed all by myself I know Pm not that strong!

Stay calm, Bella, you are capable of doing anything you will need to do to survive. You always have. We are almost there.

There are four of them, and they know how to combine their strength. They're starting a spell. Please be careful, Jacob. If you get too close to me you won't have your power!

I know, sweetheart. Relax, and trust us. When I tell you to, be ready to distract them. If you break their concentration it will backfire on them and knock the wind out of them.

I know just what to do.

That's my little Enforcer. Just remember, once you break the magic, you will set Lucas free. We will handle the necromancers. You must focus on Lucas.

Isabella nodded even though he couldn't see the gesture. She focused entirely on the foursome before her, her eyes narrowing into lavender slits of concentration and intent Everything faded from her awareness, only the ribbons of blue light weaving between the necromancers holding her attention. If she'd seen her own smile in that moment she would have realized she'd become the hunter she was destined to be.

Bella, do it now. Be careful

She didn't even respond. She stepped over the edge of the pentagram, clearing her throat loudly as she advanced quickly on them.

"Excuse me, but where can a girl get something to eat around here?"

Ingrid was the first to look at her.

"Kyle!" she screamed, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. "Kyle, it's out of the pentagram!"

Kyle jerked around to look at Bella, the blue energy flashing in wild twisting ropes as its flow was disturbed.

"That's because it isn't a Demon. Boy, for a bunch of geeks, you sure are stupid."

That cut it. Their concentration went to hell, and so did the magic they'd controlled. A huge explosion of crushing force blasted all five of them off their feet. Isabella's back slammed violently into a wall and her breath was forced from her lungs, the ominous sound of a bone snapping resounding in her subvocal hearing. She dropped to the floor like a stone, landing with a weak grunt. She tried to get up, scrabbling to her hands and knees, gasping for breath and then losing it all over again in a scream as pain blossomed brutally across her right side.

She gritted her teeth, determined to fight the pain and get to her feet. Jacob and the others needed her. She was the Enforcer, born to hunt the Transformed, and she needed to do her job. She staggered to her feet, shoving her wild hair away from her face, causing another spear of pain to drive into her side.

And then she saw Jacob.

He entered the room in a detonation of dark, vicious dust, coalescing into his tall, powerful form in the span of a breath. His rage radiated off him like a nimbus, every muscle in his body taut with deadly beauty, every handsome line of his face carved from marble vengeance.

Seeing him at last gave her a rush of strength and determination unlike anything she'd ever known before. She straightened up, full of pride in her mate, her hand falling away from her ribs as her pain was pushed back into oblivion. A blast of wind struck her, twisting her beribboned hair into a sleek black banner behind her head. She didn't even look to see Elijah become solid. Her full attention went to the second pentagram.

Lucas leapt into the air, his powerful wings finally free to carry him out of his prison. He was heading for a large window, clearly unperturbed by the glass in his way. Isabella gave chase, scrabbling over a series of crates that were stacked up to the window level. She couldn't have wished for better luck. If they took their battle outside, she wouldn't have to worry about disrupting the powers of the Demons who fought the necromancers behind her.

Bella! Not outside! If he gains the open, he will escape you! Trust me, love, he won't want to. You told me yourself, the

Transformed have only two thoughts. Now that the first, freedom and self-preservation, is satisfied, that leaves only the second, and the full moon that magnifies it a thousand times.

She felt the disquiet and doubt that twisted around inside of him, but he said nothing and thought nothing to gainsay her. She turned to her task, leaping headlong out of the window mere seconds after Lucas crashed through the glass.

Elijah turned on the nearest necromancer, a short, chubby fellow who looked as though he were going to soil himself with fear. He gave him a wicked smile and a low growl of greeting.

"Come, necromancer, at least make it interesting. You know … dying in a blaze of glory and all that"

Elijah received a vicious bolt of power in the center of his back in response. He staggered forward with the force of it, his flesh feeling as though it was being flayed apart. The warrior was able to ignore the pain that followed, having trained himself to remain on his feet through far worse injury, and regained his balance while turning to seek out his attacker.

"Leave him alone, you monstrous bastard!"

A female. And she was five times more powerful than the one she was protecting. Before Elijah could move, a streak of white and tan crashed into the woman, tackling her to the ground. Legna let out a cry of triumph as she grabbed the other female by the throat, forced her to hold still, and locked eyes with her.

"Spawn, am I? Straight from hell, yes?" she hissed viciously, a resonating, animalistic sound trebling out of her. The rush of her returned power made her giddy, just as the sharp influence of the moon encouraged her wildness. Her predator's gaze pushed past lens and retina, driving through the tunnel of black pupil as she thrust herself into the necromancer's mind. "See, sorceress. See yourself in hell."

Legna tore through every memory, every source of fear imagery her captive had ever had. She ravaged the female's mind as a strip miner ravages the earth, dragging from it precious minerals of sins and diabolical wrongs she'd committed.

Ingrid screamed at a bloodcurdling pitch as she felt herself being thrust into the bowels of her personal picture of hell, the one that had terrified her since she had learned of the concept at the age of six. She was cast down into a pit of flame and poison, feeling her flesh corrode away as hell began to scream her name, long and loud and full of punishing intent. Every person and creature she had ever wronged in her life began to well up from the poisonous pool she was bathing in, each clawing and scraping at her and howling for revenge.

She was very much alive when her accusers began to tear her to pieces.

And very much dead beneath Legna's hands by the time they finished.

"Hell is in your mind, necromancer," she whispered to her defeated foe, "and so is death, the very moment you believe in it"

Meanwhile, Gideon's astral form was hovering over the third male. The magic-user was considering his options, trying to figure out what to do, and Gideon could see it in the furtive shift of his eyes.

"An attack will be useless. You cannot harm me, infant," Gideon stated blankly.

Unfortunately, the necromancer didn't realize that Gideon was merely stating a fact.

The necromancer began to conjure up a cloud of poison, using the gesture of his hands to send it swirling around the Body Demon. He backed it with a push of force, trying to drive the poison into the Demon's cellular structure. Gideon watched the poison seep through him as if he were studying the marching pattern of a line of ants. However, since he was in the lightest corporeal adhesion of his astral form, there was nowhere for the poison to go, so it spilled away from him, scudding over the floor. The necromancer's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he witnessed this. Then he was being pinned in place by implacable silver eyes.

"How tragic, that so weak and pathetic a being has managed to cause such pain to my kind," Gideon observed coolly.

Then, with the speed of a thought, Gideon became fully corporeal, his astral form solidifying into the perfect manifestation of his fierce reflexes and hard muscle. He shot forward with savage grace, a hand shooting out to snag the necromancer around the throat. He pivoted in a single motion, slamming the nasty creature into a wall for added counterforce in his effort to strangle the life from the kicking, struggling sorcerer. With merely the pressure of his fingers and palm, he played the role of death closing in on the damn fool mortal. Powerful magics or no, he was as fragile as any human and no match for Demon strength. This was without making mention of the barely capped fury the normally controlled Ancient found himself struggling with.

"You will never again threaten Magdelegna, or any other Demon, with your ignorance and avarice. Your death is too easy a punishment, necromancer. Be grateful for that."

A last breath rattled out of the necromancer, and Gideon released him with an absent shaking of his hand, as if flinging off some vile contaminant as the body fell to the floor. He turned his back on it without the slightest regret.

His mercury gaze sought out Legna, settling on her just as she rose from her position over the female necromancer. She threw back her head and shoulders, taking the deep, cleansing breath of a female predator satisfied with her kill. She'd always been the most beautiful female he'd ever seen, but now, in this victorious moment, she was utterly stunning. Gideon felt a savage response within himself, an urge so vital that it took nearly every ounce of his formidable control to tamp it down and lock it out of his thoughts so she wouldn't become aware of it.