Demonsense: Demon Master Part 35

There was nothing in his voice, nothing Leander could read in his tells that would give him a clue as to the correct answer to make in this case. So, for once, Leander opted to tell the simple truth. "I do."

"That isn't wise," Marton replied, eyes narrowed.

"I know it's not," Leander admitted. More truth. "It didn't stop me from doing what you told me to do, you saw that. I haven't disobeyed your orders in any way. I'm just asking for this one favor. Let her go, and make Franchesca swear a blood oath that she won't go after Bree."

"f.u.c.k if I will!" Franchesca swore. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and there was a mad light in her eyes. The air around her started to waver as she began to raise power.

Marton took three swift strides to her and struck her, hard, on the cheek. She spun, hair flying, and went down on her hip to the ground. She looked up at Marton, wild-eyed, clawing her hair off her face. Marton stood over her, one hand, palm out, over her. "You do not defy me, ever again, do you hear me?" Marton whispered.

For a minute, Leander was sure Franchesca was going to go after Marton. It was a crazy-a.s.sed, demon burned thing to do, so she was more than capable of it, but apparently there was some remnant of intelligence left in the b.i.t.c.h, because she slumped and let go of the power she'd gathered.

Marton straightened and said, "You got Thorvaldson. You got what you wanted most. He's in your charge. It's clear you'll have to keep him drugged until we come to some accommodation with him." He turned again to face Leander. "I'll consider it." "What about Franchesca?" Bree asked, her voice slightly muted by her shield. Leander was dismayed at the challenge evident in her tone.

Fortunately, Marton seemed too tired to react. "I will do as Leander asks. She will swear a blood oath, on pain of death, not to go after you." He gave Franchesca a diamond sharp look. Franchesca's eyes narrowed in fury, but she said obediently, "I swear a blood oath not to go after her."

Marton nodded, then stepped closer to Bree. "I think perhaps we need to have a little talk before I decide whether or not to let you go. Leander, help Franchesca get Thorvaldson to the car."

Bree met Leander's eyes then. He suddenly wished, with all his heart, that he knew what she was thinking. He read grat.i.tude, yes, and grief in her tells. What he couldn't read, what he couldn't know, is whether she still cared for him, even a little. Whether his attempt to save her life would make up for his betrayal of her too easily given trust.

And he would have to leave without ever finding out. "Goodbye, Bree," he said quietly, meeting her beautiful, soft eyes one last time. He turned to help with Thorvaldson, getting him in a fireman's carry over his shoulders while Franchesca gave him looks that would fry someone who cared, and followed Franchesca out of the clearing, back towards his car.

Bree called out, from behind him, "Franchesca! You know this isn't what Daniel would want! He's not demon burned, he's something worse. His psyche is divided. If you ever loved him, who he really is, get him to a psychic healer!"

Leander's stomach clenched as he checked Marton's reaction. Marton looked grim and exhausted, and he didn't, thank G.o.d, respond to Bree's foolishly inflammatory parting shot. Franchesca was stony faced as well, though Leander caught the subtle tightening around her eyes that told him she was reacting in some way to the comment.

He kept walking, straining under the weight of Thorvaldson who, as slight as he might look, was one h.e.l.l of a burden unconscious. It burned him that Bree's final words were for Thorvaldson. He thought for a moment that he regretted saving her, but honesty made one last appearance, and he knew he didn't regret it, not at all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

Bree forced her attention away from watching Franchesca, Leander and Daniel out of sight into the trees, and back to Varga, who was gazing at her with no expression at all. Maybe he was doing what he could to avoid being read, which meant whatever he had to say to her, whatever he was considering regarding her fate, involved things he didn't want her to know.

"So Bree. May I call you Bree?" Marton asked.

"I can't stop you," Bree replied. She started to push to her feet, and Varga said sharply, "Stay where you are." Almost, it felt like a binding. She settled back onto her knees. Was he only low power in binding then, or was he simply tired? He should be after the duel. Bree's thoughts on how to take advantage of that were interrupted by his next words.

"I'd prefer not to kill you. Contrary to what you may imagine, I don't enjoy killing people." He lightly fisted one hand, eyes narrowed, and Bree felt a brief pressure in her chest, not quite pain, but the threat was clear. He could crush her heart with an effort of will. "But I suggest you not try me with a foolish attempt at casting. I can read you have some casting ability, but you're not high power, at least not yet, and I've got the feeling you're not experienced at battle casting."

"It's hard for me to imagine that someone who's willing to set off bombs and kill hundreds of innocent people takes no pleasure in killing." The words shot right past her brain and out of her mouth.

He tugged at his bow tie until it came undone. "What makes you think I've been setting bombs?"

Bree's Reader sense was quiet in spite of the threat he posed, which was a bad sign. Whatever damage had been done to her heart had drained her energy level severely. "I know some Keepers around here," she said shortly.

Varga rolled his shoulders like he was working out a kink. "If the local Keepers think I'm behind the bombings, then I suppose that explains why Daniel came after me." He watched her with a narrowness of focus that put her in mind of a falcon crossed with a crocodile. He was reading her. She knew there was probably some angle she should be working here, but she couldn't think what it should be, so she kept silent. He waited a moment, then asked, "Is that why he came after me?"

When she didn't reply, he squeezed his fist, just a little, and she gasped out, "Yes."

His fist relaxed, and so did the pressure in her chest. Varga regarded her in silence for a moment, then said, "I have more questions for you, and I'm afraid much more pressure on your heart could cause permanent damage, if there isn't already some. If you answer my questions, and if you can give me some sort of a.s.surance that you won't come after me or go running to the Keepers the minute I leave, I may be able to do as Leander asked and let you live."

Well, she certainly didn't have the power to come after him with Gelsenim out of reach. And as for running to the Keepers, what good would that do? If they'd taken Daniel before he went divided, she would have sought their help to get him back, but as things were, they wouldn't want him back, they'd want to put him down. "All right," she answered. "I can promise not to come after you or go to the Keepers immediately."

"You won't go to the Keepers for forty eight hours," Marton corrected, voice hard. His neutral facade was slipping.

"Fine, I won't go for forty eight hours."

Marton watched her closely, then seemed to decide she was telling the truth. He nodded, then asked, "What did you mean when you told Franchesca that Daniel's psyche is divided and he needs a psychic healer?"

"That hiding spell you're so keen to get causes some kind of break in a person's personality," she replied. She didn't know absolutely that was the cause of Daniel's break, but she was sure enough to sell it. She wanted Varga reluctant to use it, because in the short term at least, it would still be an advantage for the Keltoi to have it. "Hiding away the forbidden talents creates some kind of imbalance, and exposure to demonic energy and intense emotion causes a break where a person becomes something worse than demon burned. Not just unstable, but completely dark powered. You saw what Daniel was like, there at the end. I can tell you that's not what he's normally like, not at all."

Varga's mouth quirked. "I'm not so certain Daniel's all that lily white. He's a vicious fighter, and he was perfectly willing to kill me. But that's not important right now. Is Daniel the only one who's been using the hiding spell? Has he given it to anyone else?"

"No," Bree answered reluctantly.

"So your theory that the hiding spell leads to instability is based on one case. Not exactly the scientific method, is it?" He rubbed a hand over his mouth as he thought, then said, "Had Daniel become unstable before tonight?"

d.a.m.n the man, but he asked good questions. "He's been on the edge a few times before, but he only went all the way over one other time, and I was able to bring him back." The moment the words left her lips, she knew what a mistake they were. She just kept making these horrible mistakes.

Varga's vulpine smile only confirmed it. "So you're able to fix it, this division."

"Only temporarily," she back pedaled. "He's been shaky ever since, and you saw what happened tonight. He needs a high power Reader/Healer, someone with a lot of experience with psychic healing. In fact, Daniel hasn't let me work on him again because I don't have the Healer gift and I don't really have experience at that kind of thing."

"It sounds as if I'm going to have to keep him drugged, at least until we can work out some kind of accommodation."

Dear G.o.d, she hated to think what would happen if Daniel teamed up with Varga. There was just no way to predict what he would do now that he was divided. Would he be completely insane or just without a conscience? And which was worse? Still, if he cooperated, Varga would have no reason to kill him. And as long as he was alive, there was still a chance to help him.

"You do care about him, don't you? And he was relatively easy to control with a threat to you. It appears Franchesca has reason for her jealousy."

He sounded as if he didn't care if Franchesca were jealous or not. If they were together, it seemed Varga wasn't that invested. "This blood oath thing," Bree put in hesitantly. "Is it some kind of Keltoi oath? I've never heard of it before. How likely is it that Franchesca will abide by it?"

"So long as she remains stable, she'll abide by it."

"How very non-rea.s.suring."

"Some of it's an act, you know."

"Some of what?"

"Franchesca likes to play the scary, demon burned witch. It makes her feel more powerful. She's had reason in her life to want to feel powerful."

It was a strangely empathic statement, given how cold he'd seemed about Franchesca's feelings for Daniel. "Well, not all of it's an act. Did she tell you she had a demon possess our friend's child? Twice? It's a miracle it didn't kill him, given the level of demon she put in him."

"You're clearly enjoying feeling you have the high moral ground here, aren't you? Yet you supported Daniel in coming here to kill me. You thought the means justified the ends."

Bree's gut twisted in guilty discomfort at that, but she replied, "That may be true, but I'm guessing the ends we each have in mind are a little different. Killing to gain political power is sickening and ridiculous. Can't you just buy your way into political influence like everybody else does?"

Varga shifted his weight and put a hand in his pants pocket. "Let's just say for the sake of argument that I am behind the bombings and that my goal is, as you say, political power. Have you asked yourself why I'd want that kind of power?"

"Presumably to keep normal cops bought off and to further whatever business interests you have, illegal and legal. I'm told you Keltoi types usually have some of each." She slowly settled back onto her ankles, and Varga didn't react to the movement.

"Tell me, Bree, have you ever wanted to stop hiding that you're powered?" Varga asked.

It was not the kind of question she had been expecting, and she was surprised into an honest answer. "Sometimes."

"And why is that?"

"Well, I guess I get tired of being paranoid that normals are going to catch on. Tired of not talking about certain things in public. And tired of hiding something that's so core to who I am."

"Do you ever get tired of knowing the Ecclesias can order you killed without anything like due process? You don't seem to be precisely a Demon Master, but I'd bet if you were brought before the Ecclesias and read, they'd consider you close enough to one, and that'd be it for you."

She was worried about the Ecclesias, but she didn't want to agree with anything Varga had to say. "Being stripped of my powers wouldn't necessarily kill me."

"You're fooling yourself if you think that. You're high power on three talents. If they strip your abilities, they'll kill you. And they'll kill you without any proof that you've ever done anything wrong with whatever Demon Master type ability you have. Have you cast a possession with these demons you can call? Have you had them possess you and done anything bad to anyone as a result?"

Bree shook her head.

"You're an American citizen. Doesn't it gall you that you basically have no civil rights when it comes to being powered?" The light of conviction illuminated Varga's face. Bree's Reader sense creaked painfully online, and his tells confirmed what she thought. He believed what he was saying.

"We do have laws, and a court. h.e.l.l, we even have powered lawyers to represent us to the Ecclesias," she argued.

"Have you ever been to an Ecclesias trial?"

Again, Bree shook her head.

"There's no jury. There's testimony, then the Ecclesias meets and decides your fate. There's no appeal system, and there's certainly no prison system."

"Because Casters can so easily break out," Bree replied.

"So a Caster who breaks Ecclesias law deserves to die because he was born a Caster. Because that's the only penalty, the death penalty, if you commit a serious crime as a Caster. There's no rehabilitation."

"If you're low power on Casting, they can strip you without killing you."

Varga laughed. "Are you listening to yourself? If you're born with just the right amount of power, you might not be killed if you break the law. Don't you see what that means? How is it just to kill people based on an accident of birth? Is that really okay with you?"

Bree was starting to feel out of her depth. It wasn't as if she'd never heard these kinds of arguments before. But as someone who was, until very recently, a law abiding person, she supposed concerns about the powered justice system had always been theoretical and not something she gave much thought to. Where was Varga going with all this? Was he trying to recruit her?

Before she could think what else to say, Varga continued on. "It's the same issue with being born a Demon Master or Binder. It's true enough that those abilities tend to corrupt. It takes a lot of work to avoid demon burn if you're a Demon Master, and it takes real strength of character to avoid abusing Binder abilities. But consider that someone who is very careful could get into their fifties or even their sixties without demon burn taking over. How can it be right to rob someone of thirty or forty years of life because they were born a high power Demon Master and it kills them to have their power stripped?"

She couldn't disagree with him. Knowing Daniel and, if she were honest with herself, discovering her own abilities with demons had led her to similar conclusions. "So what are you saying? You want greater political power because you want powered to come out of the closet in order to address problems in the powered justice system?"

He took his hand out of his pocket and squatted down in front of her, and as much as it should have been a relief not to have him looming over her, Bree found it unnerving to have him closer. "Yes, that's essentially what I'm saying. Is that such an evil goal?"

"Jesus, don't you read history? Does being burned at the stake for being a witch ring any bells with you?"

"You're just spouting the party line. Could someone powered get hurt or killed by coming out? Of course they could. But no one would be forcing them to do so. Each powered could decide for themselves if they thought it was worth the risk, if their given community was a safe place to come out. Surely you see the commonality with the gay rights issue. Think how far our country has come there. This is the place, here in America, and this is the time for powered to break away from the Ecclesias and join mainstream society. Don't you want to be a part of that, of making that happen?"

In spite of herself, Bree was a little shaken. She would never have pegged Varga as some kind of true believer in powered civil rights. She'd been reading for tells as hard as she could while he spoke, and she thought he might really believe what he was saying.

But then she thought of Kevin getting shot, of Keeper Chen being burned alive by an unmastered demon, of all those bombing victims. Not to mention the fact that Varga had made a good run already at killing her. "I don't disagree with a good bit of what you're saying, though I don't think coming out as powered would be as easy as you make it sound. I just don't see where bombings come into the whole thing. Say you get some people who are in your pocket into political office in after reaction to all the social instability. I just don't see law and order types to be, on average, the same people who would open their arms to powered."

Varga stood up, rather slowly, Bree noted. "There you go again, a.s.suming I'm behind the bombings. Let's just put that aside for a moment."

Bree controlled the impulse to tell him just how ludicrous it was to simply put aside whether or not he was responsible for the bombings. As long as he was talking, he wasn't killing her. If she was smart, she'd try to tap into what she did agree with in all that he'd said so he would read her as less of a threat. "Fine, I'm putting it aside, for the moment. What then?"

"Who do you suppose could best step forward to manage the rise in demonic possession we've seen recently? In the old days, they called what has been going on lately a demon war. Who better to win a demon war than Demon Masters?"

He smiled at whatever reaction he saw on her face. So he planned to cast Demon Masters in the role of hero, and probably himself as head Demon Master. But why tip his hand to her like this? He stayed quiet as she worked it through. He was recruiting. Maybe she was a bit of a test case, someone outside the Keltoi, someone who had been working against him.

And then she got it. It was what she'd said about the risk of the hiding spell. He wanted to know more, and he planned to manipulate it out of her. Interesting. He thought forcing information out of her, even on threat of death, had its limitations. It said something about how he worked that he thought that way. So, should she pretend to be recruited? And could she pretend? She didn't know if he could read tells, which would make it far more likely that he could spot a lie than if he could just read energy. Something told her to take the risk of being direct. "Why are you trying to talk me over to your side? Is it about the hiding spell?"

"Partly," Varga admitted. "I'm also interested in how it is that you can call demons but don't read quite like a Demon Master. And I'm curious about what Daniel sees in you. You're pretty enough." He put out a hand and pushed her hair away from her face, and his touch made her shudder. His lips compressed at that. "I have a feeling that a pretty face wouldn't be enough to attract him. Tell me, do you have negative effects from a possession?"

The change in subject startled her. Varga was certainly doing a fine job of keeping her off balance. And he was looking her right in the eye. G.o.d, how she wished she were a better liar. She didn't want to give away any information. "Or course I have negative effects. Who doesn't?"

Varga regarded her narrowly, then shook his head. "I don't believe you."

"I notice you don't seem affected from the possession you called," she countered.

He shrugged. "It's a gift, a rare one, as far as I can tell."

Her interest quickened. "How many people have you known with that gift?"

"I don't see how it furthers my interest to give you that kind of information if you aren't with me. And I'd like you with me. You can be a part of something important if you join me. I'm not a monster, Bree. I'm trying to put powered in a position where they can take their rightful place in the world. There has to be a reason G.o.d gave us these gifts of ours. There's a limit to how much good we can do as long as we have to hide from the normals." Varga's face was bright with pa.s.sion as he spoke. "I need talented people to make that happen and frankly, I need people outside of the Keltoi. The Keltoi is, in essence, a business organization. And business is important. It gives us the money we need to make things happen. But I need people who aren't just in this for the money, or even for the power. Franchesca was right when she said it was a shame Daniel didn't give me a chance to talk to him. I'm not so sure he'd have been working against me if he'd allowed it."

It was the "rightful place in the world" comment that kept his little speech from having any power over her. Anyone who thought in terms of "rightful place" thought they had some G.o.d given right to rule, and anyone who thought that was basically a megalomaniac.

Varga stopped talking abruptly, and Bree looked up to find him watching her. "You aren't going to do it, are you? I can see it in your face. Nothing I've said has convinced you. And that's a shame." He stood up, and Bree's anxiety skyrocketed. He was going to kill her, she could see that in his face.

But what could she do, on her own? He'd ordered Gelsenim not to come to her.

Then she heard Varga's voice in her head, saying she was unique, not a Demon Master, but something else. What if that something else was her compatibility with Gelsenim? And what if that meant she could still contact Gelsenim, could get him to come through to her in spite of his orders? Daniel had successfully kept Gelsenim away from her for months, but that was before they'd spent so much time together. What if their compatibility made for a bond that would help him break through to her?

"Can't you see that puts you on the wrong side, against your own people?" Varga was saying. Bree turned her face to the ground, trying to hide what she was doing. "Gelsenim I call you, Gelsenim I command you!" she whispered, projecting the plea more with will than with volume.

And almost immediately, her Demonsense shivered to life. "Come invisibly if you can, straight into me."

Heat rose at her back, then shot into her body. Her abused heart lurched, and she clutched at her chest.

I am here, my host, Gelsenim whispered. The Keltoi could not keep me from you.

You've got to help me take down Varga, Bree replied. Now she felt stronger, and she tested it out by trying once again to stand up. It wasn't graceful, but she made it.

He is far too powerful, and too experienced in casting, Gelsenim said. And you are damaged. His voice in her mind was worried in a way she hadn't heard from him before.