Ruby Shadows (Born to Darkness #3)(113)

“Because mortal magic in Hell is tricky,” he said, clearly catching my confused look. “You must bind yourself to the spell to make it work, just as I have. Blood is binding.”

“Well…all right.” Lifting the athame, I pricked my index finger and let a single droplet of blood fall into the ruby red wine. Laish nodded in satisfaction.

“Very good. Now raise a cup to the Goddess, mon ange, and let us continue.”

I shrugged. “Fine. Though I doubt she’d be able to hear us or help us in Hell—or even that she’d want to.” Then I raised the cup and spoke a blessing, calling on the Goddess to hear us and bless our efforts that night. I took a sip and handed it to Laish. He also sipped and for a brief moment, I thought I saw his eyes glowing a bright, ruby red, almost like two red stars. Then they subsided and he placed the chalice back on the altar.

“All right,” I said. “It’s done. Who do you want me to summon?”

“You will not be doing the summoning tonight, my little witch.” His eyes gleamed. “I will.”

Then with a wave of his hand and a word of power so strong it made my eyes sting and my eardrums throb, he brought someone else into the circle.



Chapter Twenty-nine

Gwendolyn





For a moment, I didn’t recognize the figure crouching on the sand in front of us. Then he lifted his head and I saw the gleam of a single golden tooth in the front of his mouth.

“Oh my Goddess…” I took a step back and the chalice fell from my nerveless fingers, red wine gurgling over the thirsty sand which soaked it up immediately. “What have you done, Laish?”

“Where the f*ck am I?” the man demanded. “Hey…” He squinted at me. “Ain’t you Keisha’s big sister? The one always tryin’ to get her to leave me?”

“You…you…” I took a step back but I needn’t have bothered. Laish pointed one finger at the man and uttered another word of power.

The man—Ray, my little sister’s pimp—was suddenly frozen in place. I saw his muscles tensing and twitching under the dirty baggy jeans and stained white wife-beater t-shirt he wore. But he clearly wasn’t going anywhere. There was nothing wrong with his voice, though.

“Hey, let me go! What did you do to me, you bitch?” he demanded, clearly thinking I was the reason for his immobility.

“I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak to my consort,” Laish told him, coming around to stand in front of the crouching man. “Or you risk getting it cut out.”

The silver athame was suddenly in his hand but instead of using it on the pimp, he held it out to me.

“Come, Gwendolyn,” he said in a calm voice. “You have called the circle and we have summoned a known criminal—a corruptor of souls and a defiler of innocence—into our midst. This will be a justified kill—it need not stain your soul forever, not now that the proper precautions have been taken.”

“What…what are you saying?” I backed away from him, refusing to take the athame.

“I’m saying that this man, who has hurt your sister so deeply for so many years, needs to die. And you need a way to pay the Sin Tax and break the barrier between us and the Abyss. All your problems can be solved in one fell swoop if you will only wield the knife.” He held it out to me, more insistently this time.


Finally my numb brain thawed and I understood.

Laish hadn’t had me call the circle to perform a summoning…no, what he wanted was a sacrifice.

“I…I don’t know.” My words came out as a croak.

“Come, you were more than ready last night when you saw him harming your sister in the mirror.” Laish took my hand impatiently and put the knife into it, curling my numb fingers around the handle. “Do it, Gwendolyn,” he insisted in a low voice. “I cannot do it for you—you must make the stroke that ends his miserable life to pay the tax.”

Feeling like I was moving in a dream, I took a tighter grip on the knife and moved in to stand by the man who had caused my little sister so much grief and pain. He’d hooked her on drugs, beaten her, used her sexually and whored her out to other men like she was nothing but an object to be bought and sold. He’d treated her the way I wouldn’t treat a dog I didn’t like and I hated him for it—loathed him for it.

Laish is right, I thought grimly. He deserves to die.

I took hold of his mop of greasy brown hair and yanked his head back, baring his dirty throat.

“Hey, now lady—don’t do that! What the hell, I mean—”

Laish spoke another word of power and Ray fell silent. His mouth was clenched tight, his jaw muscles bunching as though he was still trying to speak but nothing came out. Not that I would have cared what he said, even if he’d been able to talk.

I raised the athame high, intending to bring it down and cut his throat in a single, savage slice. I would kill him for all he had done to Keisha. I would sacrifice his life and in so doing, save my own—save my power from being halved.

Then I heard a little voice, speaking in my ear.

Not like this, Gwendolyn! it cried. He deserves to die but not like this—not by your hand! You’ll never be the same person if you do this—you’ll never be able to look at yourself in the mirror again. Don’t lower yourself to this level. Don’t stain your soul. Don’t!