Carry On Wayward Son Part 7

"I never met one, but then I didn't think a ghost could completely take over a living body until I met you all. I'm inclined to believe."

"Okay, then. Next question: how do we get in to do the banis.h.i.+ng?"

Simon looked over at the big Victorian. The alien power pulsed now, power he understood he'd never seen before because he had never encountered angels, in any form. Until Claire. She dragged more impossible into his life in so short a time he was surprised his head wasn't spinning.

"Last try got us blasted across the lawn." Simon ran his left hand over his cropped hair, his right hand smarting from the splinters Eric yanked out of his palm. The bandage made him feel clumsy, but blood dripping down his arm would be a deterrent. "Claire seems to think as long as I can get close enough for this guardian to hear my voice, the banis.h.i.+ng will work."

Theresa crossed her arms. "Do you know a banis.h.i.+ng spell?"

"An old one. Don't look so surprised." He smiled when she raised her eyebrows. "I have and do read every obscure text I can get my hands on. One of them had a banis.h.i.+ng spell. It was in Latin, so I practiced by memorizing it." With a sigh, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Now all we have to do is get me, or my voice, close enough."

"What if we project your voice, like over a loudspeaker?"

Simon shook his head. "Santa Luna seems to attract more than its share of the supernatural. I don't know what this would do to any-thing, that may be in striking distance. So that's out."

Eric threw in his two cents. "If we got you close enough to the house and created some kind of distraction-"

"Blasted across the lawn."

Eric blew out a breath, "Right. What if-"

"I can be the distraction." Theresa's quiet voice had them both looking at her. Simon laid one hand on her shoulder, opened his mouth. "I can do this, Simon. He hasn't seen me, so he won't know I'm with you. I can keep him occupied long enough for you to do what you need."

"No, Theresa."

"Why?" She jerked out of his grasp. "Because I'm not capable? Because I let you down and ran away when you and Claire needed me?"

A combination of grief and remorse clutched him. "Theresa-"

"Let me help you now. For Dad." Tears filled the dark brown eyes, but didn't spill over. That hurt him more than if she simply cried. "You can trust me, Simon. I won't let you down."

"I wasn't-"

"Yes, you were." She smiled. He'd forgotten how much her smile could light up her face. "And I don't blame you. Look-we're eating up valuable time. I go to the front door, be the neighbor, or-someone. I'll think of who by the time I get there. You go around back-there has to be a back door in a house this size." She waved her hands at them. "Go on-I'll take care of the keeping him occupied part. You take care of the sending him back where he came from part."

"I know you want to help, sweetheart, but-"

"Cut her a break, Simon." Eric stepped up, surprising him. "She can give us the time we need-"

"I won't jeopardize her, not when we have other options-"

"What options? We can't even get close to the d.a.m.n place, as you so delicately pointed out."

"So we'll find another-s.h.i.+t."

Theresa was gone.

Simon ran across the yard and down to the street corner, skidding to a halt. He caught Eric's arm as he saw her, heading up the long sidewalk to the Victorian.

He couldn't call out, couldn't stop her, and d.a.m.n if she didn't know it.

Helpless, he watched her walk straight toward the hot zone.

ELEVEN.

Marcus knelt on the stone floor, wrapped in chain and blood.

Steel chain-to cripple his power.

Half a dozen men stood over him, one of them holding a stained whip. Claire hugged the wall behind her, hidden by the flickering shadows. It was solid, real. She was here.

The man holding the whip spoke, his light voice edged with satisfaction. "You will make your confession, Marcus of Sinai, and accept the sentence laid down by this council." The whip dragged across stone, leaving behind a dark trail. "Will you speak?"

Swallowing, Marcus said nothing. Before she could react the whip snapped up and out, sliced into already lacerated skin. Marcus hunched over, his sweat soaked hair nearly touching the floor. Agony wrapped him like a shroud.

His tormentor raised the whip again-and Claire pushed off the wall.

"Stop!"

He spun, a knife in his free hand. Shaking, she moved out of the shadows, and stepped between him and Marcus. He hissed, raised his knife. Silver flared around the man, and she realized he was Jinn. "Demon-you dare walk among us-"

"Harm her, Baran, and it will be your life." Marcus lifted his head; she sucked in a breath when she saw the ugly welt across his left cheek. Pain sc.r.a.ped his sand rough voice. "Claire, what are-Baran no-"

She whirled, warned by the panic in his voice-just in time to see Baran raise the whip and snap it forward. Flinging up her arm, she covered her face and stepped in front of the whip.

"Claire!"

Fire ripped across her forearm. She locked her knees, waited for the next blow, determined Marcus wouldn't be hurt again- "Enough." The giant figure appeared in front of her, catching the whip in his hand. With a start she recognized him-Jamal, the man who had been training with Marcus, teasing him about her. Yanking the whip out of Baran's hand, he turned, clear, sharp green eyes studying her. "Give me your arm, child."

She obeyed, dizzy with pain, wanting to sink to the floor. Instead, she watched him remove a length of red silk wrapped around his waist and use it to bind her arm. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Sit now, before you topple over." He eased her to the floor, crouched in front of Marcus. "This is how you talk your way free?"

Marcus raised his head, blood sliding down his throat. "I was ambushed, on my way to the trial." Claire flinched at his raw voice.

"I gave you the time you asked me for. You should be grateful I decided to break my promise and check on you."

Marcus sucked in his breath as Jamal touched the chains trapping him. They snapped open and clattered to the stone floor.

Baran's furious roar brought Jamal to his feet. "You dare interfere- "You dare question my authority?" Jamal raised his arms and every door in the chamber slammed shut. The other men trying to quietly sneak out froze. "You may not agree with my decisions, Baran," Jamal stepped to him, towering over the smaller Jinn. "But you will obey them. Marcus will be freed. This woman knows him, bears witness to his redemption, and I believe her."

She gave Baran credit; however foolish, he refused to back down. "I have not heard this evidence-"

"And you never will. That is for me to decide, and I decide, demon or no, that she knows the truth." Jamal leaned down, until he was eye level, spoke in ancient Arabic. The Jinn's face paled, and Claire understood who Jamal was. What he was. "Leave us, before I bestow on you the punishment you gave Marcus."

Baran stumbled backward, his face drained of color. The silver Claire saw flaring around him before snuffed out. "You cannot-"

"Don't tempt me, Jinn. Out-all of you. Now."

The doors flew open, and the men did the smart thing-they ran. Baran paused at the threshold of the double doors, gave Jamal a mocking bow before he strode out of sight.

"Impudent sand pup." Another flick of his hand closed the doors, locks clicking over, turning the torture chamber into a safe haven. Jamal knelt behind Marcus, whistled as he peeled what was left of Marcus's s.h.i.+rt off his back. "Baran always did hate you best, my friend. Can you do this on your own?"

Nodding, Marcus clutched the floor, his left arm shaking. Sand and smoke whipped out of thin air, gathered around his hunched figure. Claire watched him heal, his soul a bright, pure light inside the whirlwind. His power astonished her-he had never completely worn it until now. Three hundred years in a cave, separated from the sun and sand that was his essence, had broken part of him.

Now, as the sand, the smoke dissipated, he stood, the gold of his power glowing in his jade green eyes.

"Claire." He stepped back, and pain wrapped around her heart. "I never meant-"

"I did." Jamal looked at her, an apology in the sharp green eyes. "I opened your connection to each other. I knew you would think of her-"

"Wait." Claire stared up at him. "I was your early warning system?"

He managed to look sheepish. "A simple charm-if he thought of you under duress, that thought would bring you to him. Your presence alerted me, saved his life." The green eyes narrowed as they studied Marcus. "Though I am far from certain he wanted saving."

"You are Marid." Claire never thought one of the most powerful of the Jinn existed. Or that he would be so-benign.

"I brought you here, to use, in whatever way necessary, to free Marcus."

Marcus grabbed Jamal's arm. "You put her right in front of Baran-"

"And I am sorry for it." Jamal looked down at Marcus, regret in his eyes. "I am sorry." He eased out of Marcus' grip, laid one hand on her cheek. Heat spread through her-heat she recognized. It wrapped around the wound on her forearm, drew out the pain. "Thank you for protecting him. I underestimated the anger Baran harbored, and because of that I wasn't here to deflect his vengeance."

He kissed her forehead, her skin tingling from the touch of his lips. His smile left her breathless. She felt the power behind it, similar to Marcus, but magnified beyond anything she had experienced.

"It is time to take you back, child. I pulled you from people who need your presence, and you will need the power you fear you no longer have."

Marcus caught her shoulders. "What is he talking about?"

"Nothing you can a.s.sist her with, Marcus." Jamal eased Marcus away, laid one hand on his newly scarred cheek. "You are not done here, and what she faces is not for you." Stepping to Claire, he wrapped one arm around her waist. "Say goodbye, child."

Panic flared-it was happening too fast, she wasn't ready to leave him- "Claire-" He reached out for her.

"Keep yourself safe. Come back to me."

Anguish tightened his face-but before she could say anything sand burst up from the floor and spun around them.

Jamal pressed one hand against the scar left by Natasha's knife. Fire exploded through her. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't scream.

His voice cut through the agony. "Forgive me, child. You will never break the wall, and you need what is behind it. I will stand between Marcus and the council-I promise you, he won't be harmed again."

The whirlwind drowned out everything. Only the force of his grip told Claire he was still with her. And she lost even that when he let go.

She fell, through sand and wind, the tearing inside her the last thing she felt before the darkness claimed her.

TWELVE.

"-hear me? Claire."

The pressure on her scar jerked her out of darkness and into pain.

She doubled over the agony squeezing her ribs. A strong arm slid around her waist, easing her to the floor.

"Claire." Gentle hands brushed away the hair sticking to her face. She felt cold-except behind the wall, where the power that had been trapped since Azazel sent her back from the gates of h.e.l.l pulsed, and woke. "Let me help you."

"No-" His hands cradled her face, so warm against her iced skin, so comforting she wanted to lean in, let that feeling wash through her, heal every ache she had carried for so long- "I know this is my doing. Pus.h.i.+ng you, trapping you for my own agenda." His voice soothed as much as his touch. She opened her eyes, met the remorse in his. "Let me take away some of the pain I caused." Before she knew what he meant he laid one hand over the scar. And his power blasted through the widening cracks in her wall.

"G.o.d-" She batted at his hand, managed to take in a breath. "Off-"

Zach freed her, but she could feel him, hovering, waiting. She crawled across the floor, away from him, away from the bright, clean arc of his power, edged with the impossible. The wall inside her broke, the jagged edges s.h.i.+fting, sc.r.a.ping, so close to letting out the part of herself she was afraid she could no longer control- "No." He gripped her arm, trapped her against the floor. "Tell me what to do. I know you were somewhere else. I felt you leave. Now tell me how to ease your suffering."

"There is nothing-you can do. Get out. Now, Zach, before I-"

"Who are you?" She looked up, met the fierce blue eyes. "You are more than a witch. I have sensed it, felt that you are-more. You are protected, by a power I have never touched before."

"Not-important." She caught his wrist, her fingers shaking from the pain. Every breath was a victory, and with every breath she regained control, nudged the jagged pieces closer together. "Let go, Zach."

He obeyed, to her surprise, kneeling beside her while she gathered her scattered strength. "Tell me what happened to you. How did you-leave, without my knowledge? You should not have been able to-"

"Someone more powerful than you." She took in a deeper breath, the pain nearly gone, the wall nearly intact. For now. "It doesn't matter. I can help you, Zach-if you tell me what you really want." He jerked away from her, staring at the wall behind her. "All I ask is that you free my friends. They can't be of any help to you. I know you figured this out already-you're hardly stupid." He turned his head, anger slapping her. "Let them go, Zach. Please. Annie is hurt, and they are all scared-"

"I cannot." He leaned forward, pulled Claire to her feet. Shorter than Annie, he still topped her barely five foot two by several inches. "I need them. If I am to stand against those who hold me, I must have leverage."

"They are not p.a.w.ns, and I won't let you use them-"

"I have no choice!" Fingers dug into her arms, shaking with the tangle of fear, anger, hopelessness that radiated from him. "I am bound, for all eternity, because I was foolish, because I was proud." Claire swallowed, understanding too well. "I am to be made an example, and what I ask will never be granted. But if I can bring a trade to the table-"

"And that trade would be our lives."

Shame flared in those clear blue eyes-just long enough for her to see it, recognize that what he did was as much out of desperation as it was necessity. Something else she understood. "They left me no choice."

"But I am giving you one now."

He stared at her, started to shake his head. "How will I know-"

"If I'm lying to get them free of you? I don't make promises I can't keep. And yes, you'll have to take me at my word, unless you have a lie detector hidden in your pocket." He bit his lip on a smile. It encouraged her. "You have to trust someone, Zach."