2 Death Rejoices by A.J. Aalto Read Free Book Online

DaySitter would have been able to tell I was capable of manipulating psi.
    “Of course she's mundane, you fool,” Malas lied. I carefully swallowed my uncertainty. He had to know what I was. There was no hiding the mingling of energy between our palms, and though he was physically repulsive, the unnatural force behind his touch was incredible. My skin moved under his, literally crawled, stirring around on my bones.
    Kinetics , my mental alarm bell rang. This thing is telekinetic. He'd been putting all his focus into increasing his magic, warping the infernal gift, forgoing his physical regeneration. For how long? Decades? Centuries? Judging by the way the room groaned and protested as he entered, it felt like millennia. That's why he's ragged around the edges . Something had to give .
    I knew, then, if forced to kill this creature, I would regret it for the rest of my days, even more than I regretted staking his Younger, Gregori Nazaire. Not because Malas deserved to live. Not because Malas was righteous or evil, but because his power was flat-out magnificent, and I couldn't bear the idea of snuffing it.
    Malas looked up at Harry. Malas’ gold-shot eyes shone like a cat's caught sideways in moonlight. My own revenant gave the elder revenant a discrete nod that went unnoticed by most, and through our Bond, Harry's unhappy anticipation rolled into my gut. Whatever they were planning, it was going down now, and if it was capable of making Harry anxious, it was going to be bad. I had to get the civilians out of here.
    My headphones made a soft click in the helmet on the floor behind me and my heart jerked. A tiny voice began speaking in an excited tone, repeating things the way cops will, over and over, to make sure their message gets through. The words were unclear to me, but if I could hear the voice, the revenants surely could. I shot a panicky look at Malas.
    Malas barely moved. His withered fist drifted parallel to the ground in a motion that appeared casual but brimmed with force. His good hand tightened on mine.

C HAPTER 4
    “ RESTER A MES CÔTÉS ,” he told me, his voice gaining strength. I spoke so little French that I figured doing nothing was the safest course of action.
    Voices dropped off around me as if scissored mid-sentence. People began to sway on their feet, throwing their arms out for stability. Since they were costumed, it was hard to gauge what was happening; when several rocked on their heels, I tensed on their behalf. A gorilla who had removed her helmet pitched forward and hit the ground so hard her nose split open along the bridge, lashing the stage with a scarlet stripe.
    The giraffe fell in three stuttering movements to her back, and she wasn't alone. Once grounded, the Furries writhed but not unhappily: a shock of lust spiked through the room, rinsed across my skin and left me. The mass of bodies on the floor moaned in unison, a chorus of pleasure.
    I wasn't sure what he expected, but I wasn't being affected by much of Malas’ power; I felt it wash through the costume to trickle into my veins like ice water louching absinth, but Harry's presence was a sturdy crutch. I remained on my feet, clear-minded if confused. Twitching bodies littered the floor. Ben wavered at my side as though drunk.
    Harry watched the prone Furries with narrowed eyes, assessing.
    “Find the betrayer,” Malas demanded of Ben, dropping his kinetic control. One by one, the Furries went limp, released. They flopped, rolled to their sides, crawled to find purchase like blinded swimmers, robbed of their equilibrium and their ecstasy with a simple flick of Malas’ claw-like finger. “Find the betrayer. You will not fail me.”
    Ben's body rocked forward in a limping half-run; he hurried from one Furry to the next removing helmets and nodding, apparently familiar with each one he saw: giraffe, the Siamese, the gorilla, all expected. They greeted his inspection with dizzy smiles or irritated swats as they made loose clusters