by Tina Folsom
She nodded.
“Oh, that blows.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“So you want Virginia to talk to Cinead, is that it?”
“No. I need your help, not Virginia’s. I have no intention of telling Cinead that I found his son, if I can’t at the same time tell him that he can be saved.”
“Saved?” Wes’s forehead furrowed. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That you want to turn him back into what he was before?” He began to shake his head.
“I grew up with believing in the mantra ‘once a demon, always a demon.’ But I don’t want to believe that anymore. That’s why I need you. You and Charles. You are powerful witches. Between the two of you, you know every spell there is. I need you to find something that will turn Zoltan back into what he once was.”
Wes let out a mirthless laugh. “How come you never ask me for something easy, like a simple spell to turn somebody into a piglet or a rat? I’m really good at that.”
Enya shrugged. “I’m not in need of a piglet or a rat right now. Come on, you’re my only hope.”
“Okay, then, let’s talk to Charles, see what he says.” He rose. “He’s downstairs in his new lab. We call it the cauldron.”
“He’s got a lab here now?” Enya followed him to the door.
“Yeah, after he nearly burned down the house twice, Roxanne suggested he move his potions somewhere else.”
“Suggested?”
Wes winked at her. “Well, that’s the story he’s sticking to, anyway.” He led her to the elevators and pressed a button. “Maybe better if you don’t mention it.” He grinned.
“Whatever you say.”
The elevator doors opened, and they got in.
“So, what else is new?”
Enya shrugged. “I got dragged to the Underworld by a few overeager demons.”
“Oh my God! How did that happen?”
“Long story. Tell you some other time. Creepy place. Stinks like rotten eggs everywhere.”
Wes nodded. As one of the very few people who’d ever been to the Underworld, he could relate. “Sulfur. So, how did you make it back out?”
“Hitched a ride from a demon, like you and Virginia did.” Not exactly like Wes and his mate had done, since the demon whose vortex they’d used to get back into the human world hadn’t known about the stowaways he’d had onboard.
“Cool! Hope you got the chance to kill a few of those bastards.”
The elevator doors opened, giving Enya a moment to decide whether she wanted to answer. She decided to remain noncommittal. “You know me.”
She followed Wesley down another corridor, then he used his access card again and opened a door. He stepped into the room ahead of her, then looked over his shoulder. “Okay, the coast is clear. No imminent explosions.”
“Very funny,” a man said from farther inside the room.
“Welcome to the lab,” Wesley said.
Enya entered and let the door snap in behind her. The place didn’t look like a laboratory at all. Yes, the walls, floor, and ceiling were white, but that was where the similarities ended. Everything else looked more like it belonged in a hut in an ancient forest. Hansel and Gretel came to mind. The large cauldron that hung over a gas fire in a large stone fireplace was the first indication that this was no conventional laboratory. The glass jars lining shelves and cluttering any available surface were another clue, as were the many ancient-looking books, some of which predated the printing press.
“You guys have met, right?” Wes asked.
Charles, dressed in casual clothes and wearing an apron, came toward her and stretched out his hand. “Once or twice,” he said. “Must have been at a Scanguards party. Nice to see you again, Enya.”
Enya shook his hand. “Likewise.”
“Did Wes talk you into a tour of the lab?”
“Actually, no. I’m here of my own free will,” she joked.
“Okay, that’s what I like to hear. I guess you need a spell or something. How can I help?”
“Actually,” Wes interjected, “she needs both our help. We’ve gotta figure out if there’s a way of turning a demon back into what he was born as.”
Charles stared at her. “What the hell for? Just kill the damn bastards.”
“I can’t kill him,” Enya said. “He’s the son of one of our council members.” And I love him. But that part wasn’t relevant.
“You mean he was a Stealth Guardian and turned bad? Wow!”
“Worse,” Enya said. “He doesn’t remember that he was once a Stealth Guardian. He was kidnapped by the demons when he wasn’t even a year old.”
Charles ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. Then he looked at Wesley. “Guess it’s time to hit the books. Let’s divide and conquer.”
“Agreed,” Wes said. Then he looked at Enya. “This may take a while. Wanna go back up to the lounge while we work?”
She shook her head. “I’ll stay here. Maybe I can help.”
“All right, then,” Wes said. “Let’s get started.”
24
Zoltan checked his phone again. Still no news from Enya. After the text message she’d sent him several hours earlier, he’d taken refuge in an apartment with a For rent sign in the window. As luck would have it, the place was fully furnished, so he’d made himself at home and waited. His superficial wounds were already healing.
Sick of waiting, he called Enya’s number. It went straight to voicemail. He waited for the beep.
“Enya, where are you? Is everything okay? Call me.”
He disconnected, then walked into the kitchen and turned on the faucet. He splashed cold water on his face and ran his hands through his hair.
The creaking of a floorboard behind him made him whirl around and reach for his dagger.
“I wouldn’t do that,” a male coming from right in front of him said.
“Definitely not a good idea,” another added.
Shit! The jig was up. He’d trusted Enya, but it appeared she’d let her people convince her that he wasn’t worth saving. Or had she given him up easily when she saw how he’d hurt Hamish? It didn’t matter now. Without her trust, it was over.
Zoltan slowly raised his hands. An invisible hand disarmed him.
“That’s really brave,” he said. “Two invisible Stealth Guardians against one demon.”
“Three,” a third male corrected him, before all three men became visible, their daggers ready to kill Zoltan should he make a wrong move.
Hamish—probably still nursing his broken arm—wasn’t among them, but Zoltan recognized the other three, though he wasn’t quite sure about their names.
“Let me guess, the Baltimore compound is having an outing today. Oh goodie!” He’d be damned if he showed them that he knew he’d lost.
“Didn’t know that Zoltan had a sense of humor,” one of the Stealth Guardians said to his colleague.
Zoltan gave him a mock grin. “How long did it take you to convince Enya to give me up?”
“You think Enya gave you up?”
“How else would you have found me? She’s the only one who knows my number.”
“Sure, but we cloned her phone and traced your calls and text messages back to here. Took a while, since we had to search an entire block, but it was worth it, wasn’t it, guys?”
The others looked at him triumphantly, but Zoltan didn’t care. His heart skipped a beat. “She didn’t rat me out…” Enya was still true to him. She was keeping her promise.
“Well, sometimes Enya needs saving from herself. That’s what we’re here for.”
The other two nodded in agreement.
“So she won’t be branded a traitor to her race,” Zoltan said.
“Not if we can help it.”
“Okay, fair enough. As long as nothing happens to her.” It would be one consolation. Enya was back in the bosom of her race, and with Zoltan dead, the demon traitor would have no reason to go after her. But he had to mak
e sure the demons knew he was dead, or the traitor would continue to hunt Enya.
“Let’s go,” one of the men said, and gripped Zoltan’s bicep.
Another grabbed him from the other side, and together, they started to drag him toward the door.
“I have one request,” Zoltan said.
“Demons don’t get requests.”
“It’s not for me. It’s for Enya’s safety.”
Three pairs of eyebrows went up.
“Make sure my subjects get wind of my demise. They need to see my body to believe it.”
The three exchanged curious looks.
“And how does that have anything to do with Enya’s safety?” one asked.
“There’s a traitor in my ranks, a demon who wants my throne. As long as I’m alive, he’ll do anything to destroy me, which includes hurting Enya. Because he knows hurting her means hurting me. He’ll only leave her alone once he’s convinced I’m dead.”
For a moment there was silence, then one of the three said, “We’ll think about it.”
“Now let’s get moving,” the second one said. “Manus, you’ll drive.”
“Whatever you say,” Manus replied. “Logan, cuffs.”
Logan pulled heavy cuffs from his pocket. Zoltan didn’t see any point in resisting. His life was already forfeited. “Guess you don’t wanna do it here.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me where you kill me.”
“Yeah, shut up,” Manus snapped. “You’ve been talking entirely too much for a fucking demon.”
“Last words, and all. I thought you’d understand,” Zoltan replied. “It’s not as if I were asking for a last meal.”
“I don’t know what she sees in him,” Logan said, and put the cuffs around Zoltan’s wrists. “Aiden, you’ve got the hoodie?”
Aiden handed him a black cloth, and Logan reached for it.
“Blindfolding? Really? Who am I gonna tell where you took me when I’m dead?” Zoltan asked. Dying was one thing; not seeing the blade coming was an entirely different one.
Logan pulled the hoodie over Zoltan’s head, robbing him of his vision.
“Where are you taking me?”
But none of the three answered. They dragged him out of the apartment. Outside, they shoved him into the back of a vehicle. Two of them, presumably Logan and Aiden, got in the back with Zoltan, while Manus jumped into the front and drove off. Not being able to see anything, and with his hands cuffed behind his back, Zoltan was jostled around whenever Manus made a turn, sped up, or slowed down. And judging by how often this happened, he had the feeling that the Stealth Guardian did it on purpose just to piss him off. No matter. He wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of complaining.
When the vehicle finally came to a stop after what felt like an eternity, and Logan and Aiden dragged him out and put him on his feet, Zoltan prepared himself. He heard traffic sounds in the distance, but where they had stopped was relatively quiet. Through the hoodie, he saw only shadows, but he couldn’t make out where he was. Probably somewhere where the Stealth Guardians wouldn’t be observed killing him, and where washing away his green blood would be easy.
He took a breath and steeled himself for what was to come. His only regret was that he hadn’t told Enya that he loved her.
“This is it, huh?” he asked.
“Yep,” Aiden said.
“Let’s get him inside,” Logan said.
Two Stealth Guardians grabbed Zoltan and ushered him into another direction. It was only a few steps until the ground beneath his boots changed. The cobblestones he’d felt upon getting out of the vehicle were gone. Then he heard a heavy door shut behind him, and all traffic noise vanished. It was as quiet as a mausoleum. How fitting to kill him in a tomb.
They continued walking.
“Stairs, watch out,” Manus said, and Logan and Aiden helped Zoltan navigate down the flight of stairs.
He knew what it meant. They weren’t gonna grant his final wish to leave his body for the demons to find, so his death could be confirmed.
“Bastards,” he cursed. “So you’ll kill me in some dark hole where nobody will ever find me?”
One of the men kicked him, and Zoltan nearly lost his balance.
“Just get him inside the fucking cell,” Logan said, “before I beat the shit out of him for what he did to Winter.”
A heavy door creaked, then somebody lifted the hoodie off Zoltan’s head. He quickly assessed his surroundings. A cellar, but no ordinary one. The runes along the walls told him immediately where he was. “You brought me to your compound? Why?”
“’Cause that’s where we keep prisoners,” Aiden replied, and shoved Zoltan to the entrance of the cell door, which stood open. “Turn around.”
Zoltan complied, still stunned that they hadn’t killed him yet, and seemed to feel no urgency to do so.
Aiden unlocked the cuffs and took them. “Inside the cell, now!”
Zoltan walked into the dark space and turned around. Aiden closed the door in his face. He heard the key being turned in the lock, imprisoning him.
Zoltan kicked his boot against the door. “What the fuck are you up to? Are you too chicken to just kill me? Are you?”
But there was no answer, only the sound of retreating footsteps that echoed against the thick stone walls.
25
Enya closed the heavy book she’d been studying. The knowledge base that Charles and Wesley had accumulated in their little vault underneath Scanguards headquarters was quite impressive, and included books detailing the history of the Stealth Guardians and tidbits of what was known about the Demons of Fear. She had found nothing in the volumes she’d been perusing that gave any indication that a demon could be turned back into his original form.
“Okay,” Charles said, and rose from his chair, pointing to an entry in the book he was reading. “This could be something.”
Enya eagerly looked at the paragraph. “Sorry, but my Romanian is pretty much nonexistent. Can you translate?”
Wesley joined them. “Nothing in any of the books I looked at. What’s this?” He leaned over the entry. “Hmm. Something about a demon and the heartbeat of blood tears? What?”
“No, no,” Charles said. “You’re translating it wrong. Here: When the demon swallowed the life, or it could also mean heartbeat, of his own innocent blood, his soul shed tears, or wept, and gave him back his true… uh… identity… or maybe self. Yeah, I think that’s it.” Charles looked up.
“What does it mean?” Enya asked.
“Not sure. This is a gypsy tale from the eleventh century. And those stories are notoriously vague in their retelling. So it could mean that somehow the demon has to take an innocent’s blood to wash himself of his sins and turn back into what he was before.”
Wes shook his head. “Sacrificing an innocent? That doesn’t sound right.” He bent over the book again and pointed to a word. “That’s not just blood. It’s flesh and blood, which means a descendant.”
“What if it doesn’t mean descendant? What if it means ancestor? Like his father?” Enya asked. What if Zoltan’s father could somehow redeem him?
“Hmm,” Wes said, and glanced at Charles. “But it says innocent here, and let’s face it, anybody over the age of five is hardly without sin.”
“I agree,” Charles said. “So let’s assume it means descendant, then the translation would read: When the demon swallowed the life, or heartbeat, of his innocent descendant, his soul wept and gave him back his true self.”
“That’s not much to go by,” Enya said, deflated. “How can a demon swallow somebody’s heartbeat? That doesn’t sound right.”
Charles sighed. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be of more help.” He motioned to all the books they’d pulled off the shelves. “But I’ve got nothing else. This is the closest we’ve gotten to any reference about a demon being redeemed.”
Enya nodded. Had she really expected that Wes and Charles would find something in such a short time frame? Not expected, but
hoped. “What about spells?”
Wes shook his head. “Already thought about spells, but any transformation spell that I could do would only be temporary—you know, like making a person appear like another preternatural creature to fool somebody. But those spells only work for a very short time. We’re talking minutes or hours. So that’s of no use.”
“I heard you did turn somebody into a rat once,” Charles said.
Wesley grimaced. “Don’t remind me. But seriously, no spell can permanently alter a person’s self. Not the way you want to.”
“I understand,” Enya said. “Thanks anyway. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
“It wasn’t a waste,” Charles assured her, “and if I can figure out what that gypsy story really means, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, both of you.” She turned to the door.
“I’ll see you out,” Wesley offered.
“Thanks, I know the way.” She turned the handle and left the laboratory.
Outside in the bright corridor, she walked in the direction of the elevators, wanting to get as far away from where people knew her as possible. But she didn’t get far. Halfway down the corridor, she had to snatch a breath of air, and with it, a sob tore from her chest. Another worked its way up her throat before she could force it back down. Tears were filling her eyes, and it was no use to try to stop them.
“Enya?”
She spun around and recognized Maya, a vampire physician dressed in a white doctor’s coat, standing in the door to a room. Enya hadn’t even heard the door open.
She tried to wipe away the tears that had already stolen down her cheeks, but it was futile. Maya was already pulling her into her arms.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
Enya tried to pull away, but the arms of the compassionate vampire felt too comforting to retreat from. “It’s nothing.” Because how could she explain what she was going through? How could she confess that she was in love with a demon who couldn’t be saved?
“Come on into the medical suite. My patient is already gone. We’ll be alone there.”
