Page 32 of Try As I Smite
“Promise me,” Delilah insisted.
The Syndicate had fallen, Alasdair was marked, her parents were together and injured.
And Delilah could do nothing.
Nothing but push Alasdair away before she made things worse.
…
Alasdair felt as though he were being ripped into a thousand pieces as loyalties and needs pulled him in too many different directions.
Still reeling from every damn revelation over the last what had felt like fifteen minutes at most, his heart slammed against his ribs like a wild animal trying to break free of a cage. The panic room seemed to close in on him, too quiet for his mind, which was still processing everything.
Dammit.
Alasdair stared at Delilah, a dull ache taking up residence in his chest, gripping his insides with fists made of stone. Not because he hated her, but because she thought he would. He could see it in the confusion swirling in her dark eyes.
But this day had changed everything. He could never hate her.
Because she’d turned out to be that woman in the alley. Because she’d been trying to help him, even if things had only gotten worse. Because she’d wanted to give the child version of him a hug. Because she’d tasted like heaven coming all over him.
She was part demon…and he didn’t care.
He should. She’d lied by omission. That relevant fact could’ve been shared at any time in their dealings today. Hell, the second he’d told her he had a demon problem, even more so after she’d witnessed the scene of his father’s death.
That vision.
Mother goddess, was that what he now had to face? How was he supposed to stop the demons if they possessed the most powerful witches and warlocks in existence? His sister among them. Was he destined to lose his entire family? The damage the Syndicate could do, must already be doing…
“Why does Belial want me?” he asked.
“You’re the leader of all mages and extremely powerful.” Hazah’s voice sounded like sandpaper had been taken to her larynx. “They have seen your future as part of their plan, whatever it may be.”
I need to go. Now.
But he was trapped here, in this Christmas Carol catastrophe, while the world was falling apart, and Delilah’s pale face and the way she wouldn’t look at him was making his heart wrench.
He held out his hand. “Come with me.”
Her eyes went wide, and she gave her head the slightest shake. “I can’t—”
He jerked his gaze to her mother. “Release us from the visions,” he demanded.
“Watch how you address her,” Delilah’s father said. Quietly, but no doubt that was an order.
Alasdair didn’t have time to ask nicely. “The Syndicate has already fallen. I have to save my people.”
The demoness closed her eyes, then frowned, shaking her head. “I am too weak to see if the future has changed. I can’t see…anything.” She opened her eyes. “But I won’t hold you now. The legions are coming.”
Legions? Icy claws of fear raked through him. “Why?”
Hazah’s smile took visible effort. “If you were trapped in hell and possession was your only way to get out and stay out, you’d do it. You’d do anything, try anything, kill anything you had to after long enough. But demons’ attempts to break their eternal bonds have been thwarted too many times by powerful creatures up here. Taking over mages not only to keep those people from sending them back, but to use those powers for their own purposes is…brilliant.”
She was right. If he’d been trapped down there, he would do anything to get out. With that kind of motivation against him, could he even stop this?
“I hope what you’ve seen is enough to get you through.” Hazah waved her hand.
A flash of darkness, like power flickering off and on, and, immediately, a sharp pain, like a hot poker jammed into his skin and melting through to the bone, flashed across his chest. With a hiss, he yanked back his shirt to find that spider mark from Hazah gone.
