David Wilson - Vintage soul

She approached the circle carefully. There were was nothing to see from where she stood, but she caught the scent of the incense he’d used to set the wards, and she felt the crystals, warm and shimmering, beneath that curtain. He hadn’t placed them inside the inner circle. They had to be mounted side by side in the center of the concentric rings to form the portal.

That was good. Amethyst wouldn’t break the circle. She knew the danger, and she wasn’t going to send the building and herself crashing into the pits of hell if she could help it. It was possible, though, that if she concentrated she could disrupt the vibrations in the crystal enough to prevent the formation of the portal. If she managed it, Ezzel would be trapped inside his own circle. It might not last, but it would buy them some time. It might be all that she could do.

She stalked around the outside of the circle. The more she thought about the theft of the crystals, and the quiet, handsome man who’d fooled her so completely and then taken advantage of her with such cold, unfeeling arrogance, the angrier she became. She pressed the palms of her hand as close as she dared to the whirling mist. She felt forces alive and powerful, just beyond her touch. Their aura shivered along the outer edge of the circle. She felt their awareness as well. Ezzel would have no concentration to spare for her, but the spirits he’d summoned were under no such constraints, and they wanted out. As long as they sensed that she might work to break the circle, they would only watch her. She knew that didn’t give her much time.

On the far right of the circle she felt the direct presence of the crystals, and she stopped. She stood very still, willed her mind to seek the twin vibrations, and sought to match them. She felt the spirits within the cloud drawing near, hovering and watching. They knew she could break the circle by attacking the crystals. What they didn’t yet know was her purpose, and she knew she’d have to act very quickly to succeed.

The vibrations rippled through her, and she willed one of the smaller crystals she wore around her throat to match that shivering warmth. She drew it in slowly and tried to keep the intrusion as inconspicuous as possible. She would have one moment to strike, and she waited for it as long as she dared.

With a lash of will she shifted the vibration of her smaller crystal, fighting to keep it bound to the larger, stronger timeline crystals. The spirits in the circle snatched her intentions from her thoughts and pounced with shrieks of anger and rage. Something dark rose behind her, but she didn’t see it in time. She concentrated and forced her will into the aura of the combined crystals. The darkness folded over and bent double, and then struck like a snake. It wrapped around her and dragged her from her feet, driving the breath from her lungs in a savage wrench.

She screamed and clawed at the writhing shadow, but the link with the crystals was broken, and now she fought for her life. The thing that held her was dark, and the stench it released engulfed the room, blotting out even the hint of incense. She fought to breathe, but it squeezed inexorably, driving the air from her struggling lungs.

Within the circle, Ezzel sensed a shift in the rhythms of the circle. He could not react, but he was aware. If he let his concentration waver for even a moment, he would be destroyed. Still, the disturbance itched at the back of his mind. It was the crystals. Their vibration had shifted very slightly. If they shifted more, he might not be able to bring them back into alignment — he might never escape the circle with his life.

Then, as suddenly as the disturbance had intruded, it was gone. He saw nothing but the table before him, the elements of the ritual, and the inviolate white smoky ring surrounding him. As he worked, he smiled.

Donovan reached the glass outer-wall of the elevator quickly. He leaned around the corner and caught the terrified stares of Vein and his companions, but he didn’t have time to worry about their state of mind. The sunrise was only moments away, and if he didn’t get them out and under cover soon, fright would be the least of their troubles.

He examined the intricate silver mesh worked into the glass, which was thick, maybe three inches and very solid. Donovan had to lean out from the wall to see this, and the wind buffeted him each time he did, threatening to blow him from his perch. The Thunderbird spirit lightened him, but every blessing has its curse. Each motion threatened to send him flying away in the grip of some errant breeze, and it was difficult to move because in his lightened state, every twitch caused a seemingly disproportionate reaction.

He’d come prepared for a lot of things, and though blasting through an outer wall wasn’t something he’d anticipated, he didn’t hesitate. He had several smaller pouches tucked deep in his pockets, and after only a few moments searching he pulled out a small, blue leather bag. It was filled with a white paste. He took this, being very careful not to touch the paste itself with his fingers, and spread it in a large, two foot circle by squeezing it out the top of the bag. He would have made it larger, but there wasn’t much paste in the bag, and his reach was severely limited by the need to clutch a jutting brick ridge with his other hand. When he had completed the circle, he pulled back and gripped the wall with both hands. There wasn’t much time left.

He glanced into the interior of the elevator. Just at that instant one of the vampires rushed the glass and crashed into it with all the force he could muster. Startled, Donovan drew back. He lost hold with one hand and cried out. If his full body weight had come down unexpectedly like that on the one hand still gripping the wall, he’d have plummeted to the ground below. Cursing, he swung out from the building, wishing he’d been able to check the violence with which he’d kicked off. He needed to get back to that glass, to touch the circle he’d created and to finish what he’d started, but it was all he could do to hold on.

Inside the elevator, Bruno, who had panicked, was dragged from the glass by Vein and Kali, and held, kicking and screaming for release, as they all watched Donovan’s fight for purchase. He didn’t think he could drag himself back to the wall. His fingers were slipping. He felt his nails crumbling and his fingertips scraping painfully. His knuckles and wrist throbbed with the effort of maintaining his grip.

Everything slowed in that moment. He saw the faces of those trapped in the elevator clearly, the terror-stricken rage of the one, and the anxious attention of the others. He saw the circle he’d created on the glass, and knew he had to reach it.

A cry rose from above and behind him, and he cursed. He thought, just for a second, that it was another dragon, and his effort to whip about and verify this fear nearly dragged him from the wall. Then something heavy hit him in the back, and he spun toward the wall, gripping, clinging, finding purchase and hugging the brick. The second time the cry rose, he knew it for what it was.

“Three times, Asmodeus,” he breathed. “I owe you.”

He couldn’t see the bird, but he knew it had risen to circle far above. Donovan didn’t hesitate. It was now, or never. He reached out, pressed the tip of his nail to the outer edge of the circle of paste, turned his head from the elevator and pressed his cheek to the brick. He willed the heat down the length of his arm, commanding it to pick up speed at his elbow and flash through his fingers, where it erupted in a spark.

The paste didn’t light. Instead, a reddish glow circled the ring slowly, starting at the point he’d touched the paste and working around until the entire ring turned rosy red, blue, and then white. The brilliance of it was unbearable; Donovan averted his eyes, and the vampires shrank back in fear. The sun might have dropped from the sky to pay a close, personal visit it was so hot. Donovan was bathed in sweat, and he felt the skin on the back of his neck searing. Then, with an odd, wet sound, the center dropped out of the circle and fell away. It tumbled through the air, its edges molten and dripping, and crashed into the alley below with a tinkle of shattered glass and a hiss of steam.