“What’s the situation?” he asked quietly as I reached him.
“We’re almost ready. What’s happening outside?”
It was Corrine who answered, voice flat. “It’s bad. There’s a huge disturbance forming over the building. We heard chanting from high above, on the roof, but I don’t think it’s going well.” As if to punctuate this statement, incandescent bolts of lightning grounded themselves one after another in the street outside, jagged blasts of light followed by a single concussive roar. We all flinched, our shadows thrown in stark relief against the lobby walls, and my ears rang. A heartbeat later, I realized my ears weren’t ringing after all—instead, I was hearing a long, drawn-out scream. Something dark and human-size plummeted into view before scattering wetly on the sidewalk.
“Oh god,” Amira said unsteadily.
“The board is failing. We have to start the ritual now.” I turned to Eric. “The binding should draw the creature to us, but once they begin, Amira and Lex have to keep going or we all implode or something. We need to occupy The-One-Who-Hungers until they’re done. Once it’s safely bound, I’ll stab it in the face with the Black Blade.”
Eric’s eyes searched mine. “We can do this,” he said quietly. “Youcan do this.”
Without thinking about it, I cupped the side of his face in my hand. “Let’s talk once we’ve saved the world, okay?”
His lips curved into a small smile. “Okay.” His hand lifted to mine, just for a moment, before he stepped back and gestured to the other Conclave agents. The three of them spread out, backing away from the ritual space, Ivan drawing a pair of long knives from sheaths in the small of his back while Corrine began uncoiling a length of silver chain.
I turned to Lex where they stood just inside the circle of powdered bone. “Ready?”
Instead of answering, they glanced over at Amira, standing next to them. Her eyes were wide, and she took a deep breath before nodding once. Lex held out their hand, the golden chain cradled in their palm, and Amira clasped it in her own. With a soft clinking of metal, the chain wound itself around both their wrists, binding them together. Lex smiled at her, then looked at me. “Ready.”
Lifting my head, I stared off into the distance. This was it. This was the moment when I would rise above my self-doubts to become the hero I was always destined to be, the moment that would define the rest of my—
One of the elevators gave a cheerfuldingand opened to the soft, pleasant strains of jazzy Muzak. We all froze as someone barreled into view, stumbling a little as their shoes slid on the stone floor. Shirt scorched in several places, blood streaming from a deep gash on one arm, Sunil barely glanced at us as he caught his balance and then sprinted headlong toward the exit, whimpering loudly as he went by. Slamming into the doors, he pushed frantically until theybegan to move and then hurled himself onto the sidewalk outside. We heard a faint shriek and Sunil hesitated, craning his neck back to peer upward just before another plummeting form smashed into him with a meaty crunch audible even through the glass walls.
“Ooh,” Lex said with a wince. “Ouch.”
“Oh god,” Amira breathed again.
“Huh.” Staring through the glass at the shattered body of my now-former nemesis, I took a moment to savor the sweetness of emotional closure before turning to the others. “Okay.Nowwe’re ready.”
Thirty-Two
Dark Enterprises trembled around usas Lex began to speak in a strong, clear voice. Unfamiliar words rolled through the dim expanse of the lobby, liquid and swift in some places, harshly accented in others. Sparks of eerie blue light coalesced along the sigils drawn on the floor, gaining strength with each passing moment, but as they brightened, our surroundings grew darker. I looked for Eric and found him standing a little distance away, balanced on the balls of his feet, expression alert but calm. Ivan and Corrine were little more than vague outlines in the gathering gloom, back toward the lobby walls.
Somewhere high above us, the executive board was waging battle against The-One-Who-Hungers. If Lex was right, merely starting the binding ritual would be enough to bring the Abomination here. We waited in tense silence as blue sparks gathered along the outline of the circle, strengthening gradually into flames that shivered and danced in the still air. Faint screams echoed down East 54th and the building shuddered as if struck by a hammer, but nothing elsehappened. Whatever the monster was doing to the board seemed to be occupying its full attention.
“It’s not working.” Eric looked from Lex to me. “What do we do if it doesn’t come to us?”
Resignation settled in my chest like a lead weight. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, despite what I’d learned. Maybe, I’d told myself, the book I found in the Forbidden section was wrong. But it wasn’t wrong. On the contrary, it confirmed something I’d suspected for some time now—that an intangible connection existed between me and the thing I’d freed, drawing us to each other. Now was my chance to use that connection.
Reaching into a pocket of my khakis, I drew out the black business card the monster had given me. How fitting, I thought distantly, that things should come full circle like this. The card’s inky surface was blank, marred only by the dried smear of blood on one side. Then I produced the scalpel I’d taken from Human Resources and used its blade to score my fingertip with one swift slash. Deliberately, I pressed my finger onto the card for a second time, leaving new blood on top of old. When I turned the card over, words again floated up out of the black—not the supplication I’d recited before, but something altogether different.
“One-Who-Hungers, I call to you.” Against the strong, measured cadence of Lex’s incantation, my voice sounded thin and weak. “Hear me and attend. By blood spilled and bargain struck, we are bound. By ancient rites and lasting covenants, we are bound. Come here before me, without delay.”
The tremors running through the building suddenly stilled. Cables creaked softly overhead as the light fixtures continued to swing back and forth. An oppressive but intangible weight fell across the lobby, the darkness around us deepening further while thoseeerie blue flames grew stronger. I exhaled shakily and my breath formed pale clouds in air grown suddenly frigid. Somewhere deep in my brain, in neurons I’d inherited from tiny, frightened mammals, I sensed the approach of an unseen predator.
When the elevator opened for the second time, it did so with a discordant noise that set my teeth on edge. Fluorescent light flooded out, silhouetting a slender, cadaverous figure hovering two inches above the floor. Slowly, The-One-Who-Hungers drifted closer, hands clasped in front of its crisply tailored suit. Wisps of smoke or steam rose from its narrow form while something viscous and dark dripped from a wound on one spidery hand. Those were the only signs of its battle with the executive board. I wondered how many of them were still alive.
Lex continued to chant steadily as the elevator closed, plunging us back into near-darkness. When the Abomination spoke, its hollow voice overlapped with the incantation, insinuating itself into the empty spaces between words until it was all I could hear.
You’ve summoned me again. How unexpected.
My heart fluttered behind my ribs. “And you came. You had to, didn’t you? Because we’re connected.”
Clever little Colin. How did you learn that?
Letting the business card flutter to the floor, I drew a crumpled page from the same pocket. One edge was ragged and torn where I’d ripped it free. “I did my research.” Pausing, I tried to inject a note of defiance into my voice. “Management doesn’t leave things to chance. When They created the ritual to bind you Abominations, They added a fail-safe. Even if someone was stupid enough to break your seal, you would still be bound—to Them. They would become an anchor holding you to this world. Another chain you couldn’t break.”
Behind me, Lex’s voice rose, sending ancient words ringing through the lobby. Blue fire flared in response, spiderwebbing across black stone as it looped and curved into elaborate whorls. The-One-Who-Hungers paused just beyond the flames, unmoving save for the restless churn of its shadowy countenance.
