My eyelids fluttered, body completely overtaken by pure bliss, a feeling so intense and consuming that there was no way to fight it, no need to fight it. It was heaven, and I could stay like this forever, my body sinking, growing roots into the stone, being enveloped in a warm cocoon of light and pure weightlessness. No aches and pains. No body. Nothing.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but the first fuzzy image to register in my mind was the massive hole in the darkness, revealing a sky streaked with purples, blues, grays, and just a hint of orange. No matter how hard I tried, my eyelids would only open halfway. The bliss was still there inside of me, but my mind had come out of the toughest fog—much like a drunkard who no longer had the capacity to stand, but could still slur and see and make attempts at trying to think rationally.

My chest rose with the deep breath I drew into my lungs as my head tipped to the side, seeing a blur in the distance. Fighting, though I couldn’t tell who. On the other side of me was the sarcophagus, ringed with candles, an altar table sitting to the side with a large alabaster jar and a massive tome spread open.

Why couldn’t I feel my limbs?

I blinked slowly, trying to find the right brain command to work the rest of my body, but all I could manage was sight, thought, and breathing.

Stay awake, I had to stay awake. This was important. And goddammit, where the hell were Hank and the others?

It took all my effort to tilt my chin up, to try and see through hooded eyes what lurked behind me. My searching gaze collided with the glowing green eyes of a predator. Orin’s name immediately sprung into my mind, but, hell, what did I know? I was high as a kite. He crouched low among the foliage near the door, only a few feet from the table. Open your fucking eyes, Charlie! I yelled at myself, my consciousness banging around in my head and growing furious and desperate and mean.

The image of the wolf’s face went from blurry to clear and back again. I blinked several times, urging my vision to stop being a fucking weakling and do what it was supposed to do. His image solidified. His gaze held mine for a second and then blended back into the darkness.

Sudden crazed laughter at the absurdity of it all bubbled inside, engaging my stomach muscles, forcing my torso up, and giving me the momentum I needed to turn to the side and push to a sitting position. Once upright, my gut executed an undulating roll and my vision went cloudy. It took several seconds of concentrating on not throwing up and regaining my center of balance before I could open my eyes again. This time they weren’t so heavy.

My reaction to ash was, at first, very human—an instantaneous, blissful coma. And the only thing that saved me from being like all the other human victims was the fact that I was not entirely human anymore. My Elysian and Charbydon genes filtered the effects slowly out of my system, the drug having only a temporary high-like effect on off-worlders.

And what the hell was that sound, a baying echo that seemed to flow through the maze of downtown skyscrapers and empty streets below?

My gaze shifted to the place I’d last seen my partner. He wasn’t there, but there was an object lying discarded by the corner. Hank’s weapon. Denial hit me hard. No, Hank was fine. He’d simply dropped his weapon just like I had.

“Ah, right on time.” Llyran sauntered up to me and grabbed me under the arm, yanking me up. My legs gave out, but he didn’t stop—just dragged me to the sarcophagus until it felt like my arm was going to rip from the shoulder socket.

He released me. I fell to my knees, just catching myself with my hands before toppling over and going forehead first into the back legs of one of the jinn warriors who, once again, stood before the sarcophagus.

“I’m going to kill you, you know,” I slurred, swaying slightly. “Both of you.”

Llyran joined his companions at the tomb, his back to me for a long while—which pissed me off because it was a great opportunity to kill the bastard. If only I could stand and think straight.

Llyran pivoted and knelt down, grabbing my hand and shoving a heavy, tarnished gold ring onto my middle finger. Solomon’s ring, no doubt. I laughed. It was too big and too wide. The center housed a large oval stone, black as pitch and polished to a mirror-like quality. Mesmerized, I blinked slowly as my hand dropped to my knee, seeing my own hazy reflection staring back at me in the stone. There were symbols carved around the stone. I squinted, swaying every time a breeze hit me. “Denasthr—” I managed to say, trying to read the script.

Llyran spun around. “Not yet, you idiot!”

Slowly I raised my heavy hand and flipped him the bird.

He slapped me hard; the force of his blow tipped me off balance and I fell to the side as searing pain shot over my face and rung in my ears.

“You are a waste of powers!” he shouted, jerking me upright, back into a sitting position. Then he grabbed my chin, fingers digging painfully into my skin and bringing tears to my eyes. “But you won’t be for long. The ash will cling to your spirit, suppressing it, taking away your will to fight.”

“To fight what? You?”

“No, you foolish woman. The king who is about to call your body home.”

21

“That’s what ash does to you humans.” Llyran squeezed my face harder. “Makes you a vessel, prepares your soul and your annoying will to step aside. No struggle. No fight for control. And since you’ve turned out to be a huge disappointment, we have to do it this way.”

I swallowed and lifted my hand, poking him in the chest and slurring, “You’re a lunatic.”

His lips split into a sneer, and his arctic gaze narrowed, grabbing my hand and shoving the gold ring into my line of sight. “And once he is inside of you, he will use his knowledge to raise the star with this.” He dropped my hand. He leaned closer and whispered in my ear, lips brushing the skin. “Then I’m going to take her power for my own, and kill the both of you.” He cast his glance to the alabaster spirit jar on the altar table. “Say goodbye to your will and hello to Solomon. He’ll be pulling all your strings from now on.”

I shook my head as a blanket of sickness rolled through me. “But … that’s not …” No, it wasn’t supposed to be Solomon inside of that jar, it was supposed to be his servant, his demon, a jinn.

“Oh, yes,” Llyran continued with glee, “his soul is housed inside of that jar, but not for long. Not for long …”

Llyran turned back to the altar and began placing candles around the jar. His slap had woken me up, had stirred my anger and my power. Once it was engaged, it went to work, slowly destroying the effects of the ash. At least, the physical effects. If what Llyran said about ash suppressing my will and my soul was true, making me a willing vessel, I wasn’t sure if my off-world genes would fight that or not.

I stayed on my knees, eyes closed, letting them think I was still heavily under the influence. Solomon’s ring was on my finger. Aaron’s life force was inside of the stone.

I had what I needed. Now I just had to get free and get the ring to Pendaran.

Llyran returned to the sarcophagus and raised his arms, calling out loudly to the darkness. The breeze picked up as a shaft slithered down toward him, wrapping itself around the tomb. An energetic tingle vibrated beneath my skin.

Slowly, the lid began to slide off until it fell onto the other side of the tomb, with a thud that vibrated the stones beneath me.

The darkness receded. Llyran and his companion leaned over to gaze inside of the sarcophagus. “Incredible,” he breathed.

As soon as the lid was off, the atmosphere changed as though the entire rooftop had just become one gigantic lightning conductor and there was an electrical storm brewing. The hum already inside of me from the darkness amplified until my teeth were vibrating. The agate no longer suppressed the power signature in that tomb. It was out. And, holy hell, it was so strong and low and pulsating that my eardrums rang.