Demon Unleashed

by Tina Folsom

  Pearce was still in the command center. He swiveled in his chair when she entered. “Hey, you’re back. Where are the others?”

  “Incinerator. Got three bodies to burn.”

  “Good job.” He turned back to his computer screens.

  “Yep.” She hesitated.

  Pearce looked over his shoulder. “Something else?”

  “Yeah, I need you to do a background check on a man named Eric Vaughn. I’ll write down his address for you.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  She sighed. “He was there when I killed the demons tonight. In fact, he helped me.”

  “You—”

  “Yes, I’m dating him, okay? Damn it, why is everybody so curious about my love life?”

  “I wasn’t asking about that. But thanks for filling me in.”

  She felt her face flush.

  “You wouldn’t know where he works, would you?”

  “He’s an independent investment manager. Works for himself.”

  “All right, then, let’s see what we can find. Let’s start with the Maryland Motor Vehicle Administration.”

  “Already did that.”

  “So why are you asking me to do a check on him?”

  “Because Hamish and Aiden insist that you do it. I told them I’d already checked him out. I even searched his condo. He’s clean. Nothing to worry about. But unless you can back me up, you know those two will never get off my back.”

  “Fine. So, the MVA record was clean?”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t have a driver’s license in Maryland. I saw a driver’s license in his wallet, but honestly, I can’t remember which state it was from. So, don’t bother with that.”

  “Okay, then.” He typed away on his keyboard and looked through the results he got. “Social security records look okay.” A few minutes later, he’d hacked into the FBI’s systems. “No criminal record.”

  While that surprised her a bit, because Eric had said that he’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, it didn’t have to mean anything. If he had a juvenile record, it would have been sealed. Or he’d never been caught if he got into knife fights when he was younger.

  “Okay, here are his tax returns. He makes quite a bit of money. Pays his taxes. Pretty straightforward.”

  She’d already seen the records previously and nodded. “As I said. And he doesn’t have Facebook or Instagram. I asked him about it. He said social media is for teenagers.” She was getting impatient. “Are we done? I wanna take a shower and get the stench of those demons off me.”

  “Let me just verify that he doesn’t have any social media accounts.” Moments later, Pearce pointed to the screen. “Well, well, well. No Facebook and Instagram, you’re right. But he’s got a LinkedIn page.” Pearce clicked on the link. “So that’s your type, huh?”

  Enya stared at the photo posted on Eric’s profile. The name matched, and the profession did as well. But the man in the photo wasn’t Eric. He was dark-haired, yes, but everything else was different. He was skinny and looked nothing like the Eric she’d been seeing.

  Pearce scrolled down the page. “I always thought you’d go for someone, I don’t know, hunkier? Oh well, to each his own.”

  She couldn’t tell Pearce that the man on the picture wasn’t Eric. Not yet. Not until she knew what was really going on.

  “Yes,” she mumbled. “Okay, then. I’ll take a shower now and go to bed. Can you tell Hamish and Aiden that everything’s good?”

  She barely waited for Pearce’s confirmation before she rushed out of the command center. She raced to her quarters and entered, her breaths now unsteady, her heart beating a panicked rhythm against her ribcage. Who had she slept with? Because she hadn’t slept with Eric Vaughn, the man in the picture. The Eric she knew was an imposter. Was he a criminal who’d committed identity fraud? A con artist who used his good looks to trick women into a financial scheme? Or had she stumbled into an even more serious situation?

  One thing was clear: she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she knew the truth. And whatever it was, she would deal with it one way or another. Nobody lied to Enya and got away with it, particularly not a man whom she’d just started to trust.

  11

  After getting changed and getting rid of any trace of his subjects’ blood, Zoltan cast a vortex in an alley behind his condo building and descended into the Underworld. He was still seething from the events of less than an hour earlier. Somebody had sent the third demon and undermined his brilliant plan.

  And the demon hadn’t been surprised to see him. As if he’d expected Zoltan. Had he been sent by the same person who’d sent an assassin after Zoltan only a few months earlier? Ever since then, Zoltan had been extra cautious about not announcing his movements to anybody, not even to his closest associates—not even to Vintoq, his right hand. Which meant somebody was tracking his movements. How, he wasn’t sure yet. None of his demons knew of the cell phone he used in the human world, and he never carried any other electronic devices with him when he left the Underworld.

  Zoltan felt solid ground under his feet, stepped out of the vortex, and closed it behind him. He stood in the middle of one of the three vortex circles, the only places in the Underworld where a demon could cast a vortex. In the human world, there was no such restriction. As long as the demon had a visual of the place he was traveling to—either by having been there before, or by having seen it in a photo, such as on Google Street View—he could teleport anywhere he wanted. However, the place of arrival had to be directly connected to the ground—making it impossible for Zoltan to teleport directly from his twenty-fifth-floor condo to the Underworld or vice versa.

  Richard, one of the vortex guards reporting to Yannick, greeted Zoltan. “Welcome home, oh Great One.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Zoltan said impatiently. “Where’s Yannick?”

  “In his office, oh Great One.”

  Without a thank you, Zoltan hurried down one of the seven corridors that originated from the vortex circle and into the direction of the cave Yannick had turned into his office. Recent improvements had made it possible to tap into the geothermal energy of the earth, and now many of the living quarters of the demons had electricity and were slowly joining the twenty-first century.

  Zoltan didn’t knock and entered Yannick’s office without announcing himself. After all, this was his empire. Everything in the Underworld belonged to him. He didn’t see the need to ask permission for entry. Besides, he liked to keep his subjects on their toes. It was harder to plot against him when he could show up anywhere at any time he chose.

  Yannick looked up from his computer. He’d recently computerized the comings and goings of the demon population, a suggestion Zoltan had made in order to have easy access when he needed to find out which demons had used the vortex circles and on what business.

  “Oh, Great One,” Yannick said, and jumped up, bowing.

  “Yannick.” Zoltan marched toward him. “I need information.”

  “Of course. How may I help?”

  “Get me a list of anybody who’s left the Underworld in the last two hours and hasn’t gotten back yet. I want to know what business they stated when they left.”

  “No problem, oh Great One. I’ll bring the list to your study the moment I’ve compiled it.”

  “I want it now.” Zoltan grunted and pointed to the computer. “The reason I had you computerize the records and sync them with the data terminals at each vortex circle was so I’d have instant access to the information.” He hovered over Yannick’s desk. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all, oh Great One. I’ll do it right away.”

  “Good. I’ll wait here.” Zoltan crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance while he watched Yannick stare at the monitor, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

  Due to the fact that there was no Wi-Fi or internet in the Underworld, Zoltan didn’t have his own computer to receive such information electronically. The data terminals t
hat the guards used at the vortex circles were hardwired along the tunnels to connect to the computer in Yannick’s office. It was archaic, but the only way to transmit data from the vortex circles to the computer for Yannick to compile the information.

  “What’s taking so long?” Zoltan asked.

  “Just another minute, oh Great One. I have to set the correct parameters so the data you’ll receive is exactly what you’re asking for.”

  “Hmm.”

  It seemed to take forever until the printer next to Yannick’s computer began to sputter. Moments later, it spat out one printed sheet. Zoltan snatched it from the tray and turned on his heel.

  “Is there anything else I can assist you with, oh Great One?” Yannick called out after him.

  “No.”

  Zoltan opened the door and exited. He didn’t look at the sheet until he reached his study and shut the door behind him. At his desk, he switched on a lamp and perused the piece of paper. Martin and James, the two demons he’d sent up top to attack Enya, were on the list. Next to their names, their business was stated: supply run for the Great One. The description was innocuous and would raise no suspicion. Zoltan often sent demons up top to run errands. He crossed the two names out.

  There were about a dozen more. Several of them he knew and could cross out too, since he hadn’t recognized the third demon who’d attacked Enya tonight. Only one name remained on the list, one demon whose face Zoltan wasn’t familiar with: Phillip. He had to be the third demon, the one who’d attacked Enya. The one who’d been sent by somebody other than Zoltan. He looked in the column reserved for the reason to use the vortex. Authorized by Vintoq, it said.

  Vintoq. Zoltan’s right hand had sent the demon?

  Zoltan slouched back in his chair. Vintoq had been with him ever since he’d become the Great One. He’d been his most trusted adviser, a man loyal to him above else. But also a man with ambitions, a man with a superior intellect. Could Vintoq be the man plotting against him, the traitor who wanted the throne to himself, the one who’d sent an assassin after Zoltan a few months earlier?

  He needed certainty. Zoltan returned to Yannick’s office, once more entering without knocking. Yannick was busy taking a stack of papers out of a box and placing it on the desk.

  “Oh, Great One,” he said in surprise.

  “I need something else. I need you to go back a few months and get me a list of everybody who was up top on a specific day. Can you do that?”

  “Sure. What’s the date?”

  Zoltan bent over the desk and grabbed a pen, then scribbled the date on a piece of paper. Yannick looked at it. “Is there anything special about that date?”

  “Just get me the information.”

  “Of course. However, there’s a slight problem.”

  “A problem?” Zoltan growled.

  “Data that far back hasn’t been entered into the system yet.” Yannick motioned to the boxes behind him. “They’re on the paper records. I’ll have to go through those first and enter them before I can run a complete list.”

  “How long?”

  “A week?”

  “You have three days!”

  Zoltan pivoted and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. He had to wait three days to find out if Vintoq had also sent the previous assassin after him? Fuck! He was in his right mind to kill Vintoq right now, but he knew it was imprudent. Sending one demon up top, who then showed up at the same place as Enya and Zoltan, could be a coincidence. Sending one to attack Zoltan a few months earlier would show a pattern, and be sufficient proof to act.

  He was already walking to his private quarters when he stopped himself. He had to go back into the human world. Tomorrow Enya would tell him the truth about herself, and he didn’t want to miss her call. Besides, he preferred sleeping in his luxurious condo to spending the night in his rather basic accommodations in the Underworld. He’d grown accustomed to the amenities in the human world, the pleasant smells, the soft sheets, even the views over the city.

  The moment he teleported back to Baltimore, his tense neck muscles started to relax. This was where the Great One should rule from, a city full of crime and fear, and not from the caves and tunnels deep within the earth that smelled of sulfur and never saw daylight.

  Once he’d overthrown mankind, he’d live here permanently, never to return to the dark and squalid hellhole the previous leaders of the demons had created. Why nobody before him had ever thought of setting up mission central in the human world and enjoy its amenities, he couldn’t fathom. But then again, he was a new breed of leader, a leader who looked to the future, a leader with true ambitions. And soon, they would all be fulfilled.

  12

  Enya was prepared for everything. She’d dressed accordingly. Gone was the dress, which was ruined by green demon blood anyway, and gone were the high heels that had nearly killed her. She wore boots that hid a dagger—a second one was stashed away in her leather jacket—and her hair was braided again. She’d thought long and hard about how to confront Eric about his shady background—because it had to be shady if he was using somebody else’s identity—and decided that she couldn’t wait until morning. She had to talk to him now, catch him by surprise so he didn’t have time to make up a story to explain away her findings.

  On her way to Eric’s condo building, she remained invisible. Only once she’d entered his apartment did she make herself visible. It was dark and quiet, past midnight, and seeing that there were no lights in the living area, she walked to his bedroom. The door was closed. She looked down to her feet. No light coming from the bedroom either. Eric had to be asleep. Not wanting to make any noise to announce her arrival, she stepped through the door.

  Her eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, helping her recognize Eric sleeping in the king-sized bed. The sheets were covering his lower half. His chest was naked, and judging by the contours of his body beneath the thin sheet, he slept in the nude. For a moment she simply stood there and looked at him, watching his chest rise and fall with every slow and steady breath. He looked so peaceful, so innocent. But looks could be deceiving. Eric was a liar, most likely a crook and a conman. But he was also fearless, had saved her life only hours earlier.

  Don’t get soft now, she chided herself. He lied to you.

  There could, of course, also be an innocent explanation why he was using another person’s name. Perhaps he was in witness protection. It was the only explanation she would accept.

  You’re stalling.

  She hated it when her inner voice pointed out the obvious. It was time to confront him. Time to find out the truth.

  She inhaled and took a step toward the bed. Her boot kicked against a shoe and pushed it against the bedframe, making a sound.

  It took barely a second before Eric jumped out of the bed, brandishing a blade in his hand, and slammed her against the wall, the dagger already at her neck. He blinked. “Enya?”

  Almost immediately, he pulled back and lowered his weapon. But she’d already seen enough. Her pulse raced, her heart beat into her throat, and adrenaline shot through her veins. This had to be a dream. No, a nightmare. This couldn’t be true.

  “Fuck! Sorry,” he said, and ran his free hand through his ruffled hair. “How did you get in here? I didn’t mean to scare you. But you gave me quite a shock.”

  She glanced at the dagger in his hand, then back at his eyes. His green demon eyes. There was no mistaking them. She’d seen plenty of demon eyes to know for certain. Eric was a demon. She’d slept with a demon. Let her guard down with a demon. Enjoyed his hands on her, his cock inside her.

  Slowly, hoping he wouldn’t notice, she moved her hand and slid it into her leather jacket, where she’d stashed her dagger, but she noticed him follow her movement and shake his head.

  “I suppose the secret’s out. Forgot to change my contact lenses before I went to bed. The old ones must have dissolved by now. How careless of me. But then, I wasn’t expecting you to break into my place in the middle
of the night. What happened to dinner tomorrow night?”

  Finally, she found her voice again. “News flash: I don’t date demons.”

  A sly smile played around his lips. “Correction: you fucked this demon. And you liked it.”

  It was true, but the thought disgusted her now. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “You wouldn’t be in my bedroom in the middle of the night if you didn’t want more of the same. I’m game.” He looked down to his groin.

  Big mistake. She used the split second to pull her dagger from her leather jacket and press it to his neck. As if he’d expected her move, his dagger was at her throat an instant later. But he didn’t press the blade into her throat, didn’t break the skin with it, only held it there as a warning, while he took a step closer and brought his groin flush to hers. His cock was hard. It appeared demons got sexually aroused by danger. No surprise there.

  “Step back,” she ordered him.

  “Make me.”

  She pressed her blade harder against his neck, but he neither flinched nor budged.

  “You knew I was a Stealth Guardian from the moment you met me. So what were you planning? Huh? The demons we fought tonight… they were a setup, weren’t they?”

  “I saved your life, didn’t I?”

  “After endangering it.”

  “I admit trying to gain your confidence by saving you was part of my plan, but when that third demon showed up and nearly killed you, my priorities changed—”

  “Bullshit! How stupid do you think I am?” She gritted her teeth. He was still playing with her, still playing the suave seducer. But it wasn’t working anymore. “So you wanted to impress your leader by bagging a Stealth Guardian, is that it? You figured I’d be easy prey.”

  “I don’t think you’re easy at all, Enya. In fact, you’re a very complicated woman. And as I said before, I love complicated women.” He let his demon-green eyes roam over her chest. “As for your body… I’ve never had bet—”

  “Don’t! You’re disgusting! You’re a fucking demon!”