Prologue
Cadmus couldn’t resist a chortle of satisfaction. The unconscious male, bound with rope on a simple stone slab, would be the finest sacrifice yet. It boded well for this new location, already brimming with so much energy that his senses were still on overload.
His Terrible Majesty would be pleased.
Still unconscious, the sacrificial male formed the centerpiece, ringed by lit, flickering beeswax candles, of the ritual markings Cadmus had painstakingly etched on the dirt floor of the cavern, an entry to an abandoned mine shaft. The cave walls were rough to the touch, the more visible crystals already pried free by miners a century earlier, and rock-hounds more recently.
They were idiots.
True power coursed through the veins of the earth here, the crystals that still remained only one of the many conduits, as were the herbs, plants and even wildlife. Of course there were the New Agers who made their way to this section of Colorado, waving their Palo Santo sticks or sounding their singing bowls. Now, they at least had a clue.Magickallyspeaking, though, they were but infants. They still had innocence, but all they were capable of producing was spittle and poop. And incessant wailing.
But they were worth putting up with, if this part of Colorado would turn up young men like this for His Terrible Majesty’s rituals.
Cadmus ran his eyes over the bound male again. The unconscious man’s auburn hair was in a standard brush cut, unlike Cadmus’s expertly shorn salt-n’-pepper. The bones of his face were well formed, the strong jut of his jaw, the equally firm brow that topped a nose that might have been broken before, but had healed in a way that added to the man’s overall perfection. He was wearing running shorts and a t-shirt, revealing his mighty thighs and the massive curve of his biceps.
He took a moment to collect himself, looking over this fine specimen of masculine power. His Terrible Majesty was sure to delight in this one. He was about six and a half feet of muscle that could not have been brought down by Cadmus and his half-wit of an assistant, Billy Bob, without the help of his specially formulated tranquilizer darts. Even so, it had taken half a dozen darts to affect the man. He was going to have to re-check the formula, because that was many times the number needed for the other young men that Cadmus had taken.
The ones in Upstate New York.
The reason why they had to leave.
Cadmus shook the thought away. He needed to focus on the ritual at hand. It was intricate, and would require his complete attention. Especially since he still hadn’t acclimated to the enormous waves of energy pulsing in this area since his arrival less than a week ago. But that was why he was here, after all.
The Merciless needed a new home base, and he had opted to scout out this location here, in one of the nexuses of power in the New World. He had been here only once before, years earlier, and it was a moment of triumph for him. He still remembered what it felt like, to personally take the lives of their enemies that he had tracked down. The coppery smell of their blood filling his nostrils, the sight of their futile struggles to live against his deadly purpose, the sounds of their death rattles as they finally succumbed to his superior might. They were the last of the threats to His Terrible Majesty, as the lord still lay in his thousand-year slumber.
It was due to Cadmus’s devotion, his devout tending to the studies, the rituals, the traditions that had been passed down, the sheer strength of mind and will he had possessed, that His Terrible Majesty had finally awakened.
And hungered.
To his side, Billy Bob was twirling something round and round like a gyroscope. The flickering candlelight created a shadow show of Billy Bob’s movements against the cavern wall. “Stop that,” Cadmus snarled, and the dolt quickly shoved the object into his filthy, baggy jeans. It had been the male’s iPod, and no doubt Billy Bob would try to barter it somewhere the police wouldn’t look and no questions would be asked. He would allow the fool to keep it, and his life, if he would Just. Keep. Still.
The man stirred. Cadmus blinked in disbelief. The tranquilizers in the man’s system should have been enough to keep him out for much longer, at least until the ritual was well underway. Actually, the amount of sedative that Cadmus had pumped into this man’s body should have killed him.
No matter. The man’s fear and horror at what was to become of him would add to the power of the ritual. It would make the life essence that Cadmus was about to extract all the more delicious to His Terrible Majesty. Cadmus grinned as the man’s eyes opened, the realization that he was tied down slowly pushing away the last effects of the chemicals.
“Boss, he’s awake!” Billy Bob exclaimed.
“How astute of you.” Cadmus rolled his eyes as his sarcasm was lost on the idiot, whose chest actually puffed up at being called astute, even if he probably didn’t know what the word meant. He turned his attention back towards the male, who was flexing, pushing against the rope that held him down.
Cadmus was bordering on admiration of the male’s control over his emotions. He couldn’t sense any panicking, any fear. It was almost as if the male was clinically assessing the strength of the bonds. Like a scientist. Or a soldier.
So Cadmus was going to turn up the heat.
“Enjoy your final moments of life. And know that to be selected by me is a great honor.” He took pride in his enunciation. Nothing like the annoying verbal fry that spread everywhere since the plague of Kardashians hit popular culture. The male looked at him, the light of the candles catching his eyes, making them gleam golden. Still he said nothing.
Cadmus felt a slight prickling of unease. The man’s calm was unnerving; he should be screaming and begging and soiling himself by now. He probably was too stunned with terror to accept what was about to happen to him.
Disappointing. The crying and begging were Cadmus’ favorite part of the ritual.
Cadmus cleared his throat, and unsheathed the ritual dagger that he had made to his exact specifications, lifting it high in the air before bringing it down to point at the man. The man looked at the blade, and again Cadmus felt a frisson of disquietude. It must be themagickalequivalent of jet lag that was still playing havoc with his senses.
“As I was saying, a great honor.” He switched to the Ancient Tongue, his mouth caressing the words. “Your life force is about to be extracted, and contributed to a higher purpose. You will be a splendid offering to His Terrible Majesty, An Infernal Eternity shall he reign, with me, his ever faithful servant by his side.” Cadmus’s voice echoed in the deep reaches of the mineshaft, and he lowered the blade, satisfied that he made his point.
Still the man was silent, but at least now he looked like he was straining against the rope. As a sane man should, being told that he was about to die. It wasn’t quite the agitation that Cadmus had hoped for, but it was something. And who knew, maybe he’d get at least a shriek or two when the blade finally went in.
With that thought, he started reciting the ancient syllables of the forbidden incantation, the ones that would forever bind the sacrifice’s life force to that of His Terrible Majesty. The sounds of each ancient word vibrated through his body, thrumming with the energy of the earth, themagicksat his summoning. The man was now actively engaging his muscles, the rope pressing into his flesh as he pushed against it, while Cadmus approached him, knife held high, the incantation growing louder.
And just as Cadmus closed the distance between them, the mage was gratified to see the rope biting into the male. Yes, the pain and panic should be setting in now, as he raised the dagger over his head and—
