Pure Blood_ A Nocturne City Novel - Caitlin Kittredge [103]
She was right, that didn’t sound terribly amusing. “What does he want from me, then? I’m not a witch.”
Sunny sighed. “No, you’re not. But it doesn’t sound like you’ve got many options here.”
Exactly one option, really, because I had absolutely no doubt that Seamus would kill Victor, Shelby, and Valerie if I didn’t show up within the two hours—less than two, now.
“Thanks, Sunny,” I said slowly. “Thanks for everything.”
“Luna…”she started, but I hung up the phone and unplugged it from the wall. Knowing Sunny, she’d keep calling until I answered out of pure irritation. And now I needed to concentrate.
I went into the sitting room, and rummaged in the drawer of the entry table until I found one of Sunny’s old pieces of chalk. I kicked the rug aside and drew a double circle, closing myself inside it. I sat cross-legged, trying to ignore the sensation that I was slowly sinking into deep water as the circle closed.
“Asmodeus,” I spoke aloud, clearly and sharply. Only once. All that chanting in dead languages that blood witches went through during a summoning was overrated. All you really needed to do was think about them. They always listened, and watched. Waited.
“You called me, Insoli. I was not wrong about your impending trouble.”
Asmodeus appeared as if he were shielded by a column of gold smoke, flickering and half translucent. I swallowed. Even half there, the daemon set every nerve and instinct in me on end, screaming to get away. He was Other, dangerous.
“I’m facing Seamus O’Halloran in the Certamen Letum,” I said. “And I’m calling on your promise to me.”
“Ah, but I have already delivered your desire to you.” Asmodeus’s face was obscured, but I swear he smirked. “I restored the other creature, the man, when you wished it.”
“You poisoned him,” I spat. “It was not what I wanted.”
“And it is not, often.”
“Seamus O’Halloran is trying to use the Skull of Mathias for his own ends,” I said desperately. “And I’m trying to stop him. Isn’t that worth something?”
“What would you use the Skull for, Insoli? Can you answer truthfully?”
“I’d sink that thing to the bottom of Siren Bay,” I answered. “I never want to see it again. I hate this, all of this idiotic warring over something that was never meant to be used by people in the first place. It’s a perversion.”
Asmodeus considered, his gold skin emitting a soft, pulsating glow that was brighter than the early morning sun.
“Go to your witch’s contest. I will strike a bargain with you one more time.” His form became corporeal, and he reached into the circle and placed a hand on top of my head. A single massive chill racked me, as if my body had been encased in ice. “Make no mistake, Insoli. One day, I will ask you to repay my terms. And you will have no more recourse. You accept?”
“Yes,” I whispered, shaking. “I accept.”
“Face O’Halloran knowing that I have aided you. And do not call me again.”
“Then don’t keep showing up!” I snapped. Too late. He was gone, leaving behind that charred smell of broken barriers and foreign magick.
CHAPTER 30
I waited the full two hours to go to O’Halloran Tower, and I brought my gun, for all the good it would do me. I really considered leaving the Skull behind, trying to bluff Shelby, Victor, and Valerie free, but in the end I carried it inside using the same canvas bag I’d carried it out in.
The lobby of the tower was deserted when it should have been the fullest, just at the start of the workday. One elevator was operational, standing open, deceptively bright and calm.
I rode it to Seamus’s office, and I took out the revolver, sliding my finger along the trigger guard, ready. I didn’t expect to use it, but it was familiar, and secure. I’d planned to die fighting ever since I’d gotten the bite, and I hadn’t changed my mind.
Two security thugs derailed my grand plans as soon as the elevator reached Seamus’s office. They patted me down and took away the revolver. “What did you think you were gonna do with that?” one snorted.
“Put your head up your ass and I’ll show you,” I snarled. He pulled a mock-scared expression and then