Devil's Tango (Running with the Devil Book 1)

by Claire J Monroe

  “Gabriel,” Michael Black yelled. “There!”

  Tango turned toward him. Immediately spotted what Black wanted him to see. Tolstoy with a dagger sneaking up on Ajax’s six. “Not on my watch.”

  Tango pumped his wings, leapt across the room, and landed behind Tolstoy. He spun, clipped the bastard with a razor sharp edge of his wing, then grabbed him by the arm and hurled him to the opposite end of the room.

  Tolstoy flew overhead, slammed into a raised arm, bounced off and careened into the wall. The dagger dropped from his hand and clattered to the ground.

  Immediate threat removed, Tango worked his way up past Black and headed for Ajax’s exposed flank.

  “Get him out of here,” Black yelled.

  Tango kicked a wolf out of his way, then reached out, grabbed the tail of another wolf, yanked, and chunked it like a bowling bowl down the line of shifters fighting to get to Ajax.

  Weakened from blood loss and multiple gaping wounds on his neck, chest, arms and legs, Ajax spun away from an attack on the other side and stumbled.

  Tango caught him and whirled, wings out, and decapitated another would-be attacker. “Black!”

  Black busy deflecting a group of demon witches hurtling fireballs and death balls their way, yelled back, “Can’t! Not until these bitches quit—” he danced right and absorbed another ball of magic—“tossing shit!”

  “Drop!”

  “On it,” Ajax mumbled then collapsed.

  Black dropped to the ground and Tango pulled back, shoved his hands out, and energy bolts flew off his fingertips. The magic users slammed back against the wall, then melted into sizzling haphazard heaps on the dancefloor.

  Black jumped up and blurred his way to them. “Thanks.” He grabbed Ajax by the arm and hauled him up. “Maddie—”

  “Is safe,” Tango said. He looked at the carnage littered across the ballroom floor. “You two need to leave.”

  “But—” Sinjun started.

  Tango cut him off. “Dell!”

  Dell blinked in right next to him. “Delta’s landed. Ready for triage.”

  “Take them both. Then get the planes off this island.”

  “You can’t do this on your own,” Black said.

  Tango ignored him and focused on Dell. “Go!”

  Dell nodded, grabbed a bitching Michael Black holding a semiconscious Ajax and then poof. They were gone leaving Tango right where he needed to be.

  Smack dab in the middle of a battle that wouldn’t stop until every last fucker was dead and gone.

  Tango smiled and let his god slayer show on his face. “Let’s do this.”

  Dell blinked onto Maddie’s plane right next to Kenny. Sinjun lost his grip on Andrei and Caliv rushed forward to catch him before his knees hit the carpet.

  “Where…?” Andrei’s eyes focused long enough to recognize Maddie, then his gaze dropped to her stomach and his head snapped to Sinjun. “You brought a pregnant woman to a battle?”

  “I… what,” Sinjun snapped back.

  “He didn’t know,” Maddie blurted out. “And it’s not confirmed.”

  “It is now,” Caliv muttered as he dragged Andrei over to the triage area. “You look for shit, Ajax.”

  “Feel it,” Ajax slurred. “Tango needs help.”

  “Tango needs you to get this plane in the air and off the island ASAP,” Dell ordered.

  “We can’t leave him,” Maddie cried.

  Dell turned to her. “Remember what I said.” Then he looked at Rafe. “This island will cease to exist once Tango does what he needs to. Get this plane moving and off the ground. Now!”

  Rafe bolted for the cockpit.

  Dell spoke to Kenny. “You know what to do.”

  Kenny nodded. “Make sure he lives.”

  Dell nodded once then looked at Maddie. “Go help Rafe.”

  “But—”

  “Have faith and never doubt what you know to be true,” Dell told her. “What this God hath put together, no being can tear asunder. Remember that.”

  Maddie stared at Dell and let his words wash over her then mingle with the cryptic message he’d delivered earlier. Slowly, deliberately, a warmth unfurled inside her belly and spread throughout her body bringing with it a sense of knowing, acceptance, and peace.

  And strength.

  She stood up taller and ceased gnawing a hole in her lip.

  Van would come back to her. He would always come back to her.

  Dell smiled, displaying tips of fangs she had no idea he possessed, and then started to shimmer out of sight.

  Dell materialized in the ballroom next Tolstoy Ivanov. “I should really thank you for all that you’ve done for the cause.” He sank down on his haunches next to him and scooped up the dagger that Tolstoy had dropped. “I’ve hunted this blade for a long, long time.” He wrapped his hand around the hilt and nearly wept with gratitude at being reunited with his dagger. “But it’s finally back where it belongs. With me.” Dell smiled and, feeling extraordinarily gracious, patted Tolstoy on top of his head. “And to show my gratitude, I won’t kill you.”

  “Wha…,” Tolstoy slurred.

  Dell rose to his full height and gaze down at Tolstoy, then kicked him in the face and knocked him out cold. “Yet. But you will die. And it will be painful and slow. Because no one—not even half breed demonic thieves, such as yourself—have the power to separate a god from his totem.”

  He laughed at his own wit, then turned the dagger on himself, plunged it into his chest and heart, then sputtered with insane laughter as a Tango’s roar exploded in the ballroom and the walls started to ripple in on themselves. Magic flooded the air and swirled, faster and faster it moved, until the air crackled with ozone and sulfur.

  And the portal to the other side formed.

  “I’m not a demonic half breed thief,” a deep voice said from behind him.

  Dell spun around, his hands clutching the blade in his chest. Mace.

  Mace—Mesthenopolus, oldest of the surviving Blood Elves, and once commander of the 1st Blood Elf Battalion—smiled with fang and glittering obsidian eyes that flickered with red orange flames. “But I will be taking that blade.”

  Dell stepped back away from Mace’s hand. He tripped over Tolstoy’s unconscious body. His back slammed against the wall, his knees buckled, and down he started to slide.

  Mace followed and all too easily pried the blade from Dell’s slick, blood soaked fingers.

  Dell coughed and choked on his own blood. “Bas… tard. This… won’t…,” he trailed off on a gurgle.

  Mace laughed, held the blade up like an ice cream cone and licked the crimson syrup off the flat of the blade. “Change anything?” Blade licked clean, Mace flipped it around and poised it over Dell’s chest. “I have no intention of changing anything.”

  Knowing what was to come and powerless to stop it, Dell’s gaze drifted over Mace’s shoulder to the battle.

  Tango whipped bolts of lightning through the air, slicing everything in its way.

  The god slayer was emerging. Coming into his own.

  Any second now he’d remember what he needed to unlock the gate holding back his army.

  His soulless army of blood sucking demonic beasts that could free Dell from the prison his brother had trapped him in.

  Mace shoved the dagger back into the hole in Dell’s chest, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “I’ve tasted your blood.”

  Dell watched helpless as the whip in Tango’s hand reformed and solidified into a perfect replica of the Sword of Eros. The ultimate warrior’s blade that had led countless victories against demons and enemies of the Blood Elves.

  The blade that Eros himself had carried into battle against the other gods.

  The only weapon known to kill a god and, when combined with the dagger buried in Dell’s chest, could absorb that god’s powers then send them back to where they originated.

  Mace thrust again. “I know who you are.”

  Dell groaned. All
his plans were evaporating before his eyes.

  His freedom.

  His peace.

  His quiet.

  Everything.

  Another thrust. “What you are.”

  Dell’s eyes started to roll back into his head.

  One last shove. “And what you planned to do with the god slayer.”

  Tango gripped the sword with both hands, weaved it through the air, repeating the intricate dance that’d bound the lock holding back his army. A flash appeared behind him. Trace had arrived. The gate’s guardian was there. With the god slayer. Screaming and lunging for Tango. But it was too late.

  The gates holding back the god slayer’s army were open.

  The First Blood Elf Battalion of Illyria was free.

  Mace’s head slowly rotated to look at Tango, then back around and smiled until the darkness in his eyes receded leaving them crystal blue and shining with something that couldn’t be.

  A soul.

  “You… no,” Dell gasped.

  Mace slowly withdrew the dagger. “Oh yes.”

  Tango slammed the sword into the ground, tip first. Energy exploded out in a circle. Its diameter expanding with every beat of Dell’s slowly healing heart. He felt the pulse of the magic, growing, expanding, and claiming everything it touched. The tide swelled consuming everything in its path, leaving emptiness and nothingness in its wake.

  Dell’s head fell back and thudded against the wall in defeat. “I hate you.”

  The magic the god slayer had unleashed crept closer and this crappy world that’d been his prison for so long started to shimmer and fade.

  “Right back atcha.” Mace laughed and laid the blade laid over his heart in mock salute. “Eros.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  It was gone. Everything was gone. Like it’d never existed. The whole place had disappeared and… they’d caught it on video. Right up to the point when the feed quit and the entire hotel and the island around it simply vanished.

  As if it’d never existed.

  Carved out and plucked from existence and then… poof.

  Van was gone.

  “He can’t be gone,” Kenny said.

  Maddie silently stared out the windshield of the plane and the hole where the love of her life had once stood. That was now nothing. But an empty hole. Like the one she felt in her heart, because… Van was gone.

  Rafe laid a hand on Maddie’s shoulder. “He’s not gone.”

  “But it’s gone. Nothing’s there. It’s a hole.”

  “Ken,” Caliv warned. “Not now.”

  “Rafe’s right,” Derek said. “Tango’s not gone. He’s where he needs to be. And when he gets done doing what he needs to do. He’ll be back.”

  “You don’t—” Kenny started.

  “Yes,” Caliv cut him off. “He does.”

  Rafe squeezed Maddie’s shoulder. “Because he would never leave his mate alone.”

  “And pregnant.” Sinjun laid a hand on her other shoulder and squeezed. “He’ll be back. Right, Maddie. He always come back.”

  Maddie blinked, surprisingly dry eyed. Then nodded. Once, twice, and couldn’t stop. “He’ll be back. He always comes back.”

  “But Dell—” Kenny started.

  “Later,” Caliv snapped.

  “No,” Maddie said. “It’s okay. We need to call Whiskey. He’ll… want to know that Dell is…,” she trailed off unable to say it.

  “MIA,” Sinjun completed for her. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take care of it. K-dog, come help me with comms.”

  “Good idea,” Derek said. “Maddie, Rafe’s gonna take the helm now and take care of getting us home. Caliv, you get Sinclair on the horn and let him know that we have a situation with Zed and need to drop him at Tristan’s for some detox.”

  The cockpit cleared out leaving Rafe and Maddie alone.

  “He’s coming back,” Maddie said.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “He didn’t leave me.”

  “He’d never do that.”

  “Not even if the fate of the world depended on it.”

  “Nope, not even then,” Rafe assured her.

  “Because as long as I’m safe and not doing anything stupid, then… then….”

  Rafe grabbed her hand and tugged until she dragged her eyes off the big gaping hole in the middle of the ocean that was rapidly filling up. “He will come back. As long as you are safe and not doing anything stupid, your mate will always come back to you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Always, Maddie. Because that’s what we do.” He smiled, gave her hand another squeeze, then released her and took the helm. “We always come back to the ones we love.”

  Eight months later…

  “You need to stop.”

  Maddie ignored Nev and stared at the video screen. She’d watched it a million times since the night Van had disappeared. She’d dissected every nuance of the video. Taken multiple trips down to the site with each of the men who’d been with her that night. The night that’d changed everything. The night that she’d realized that her Van-Gabriel was an angel. The night that she’d started her long journey through the land of grief until she finally landed where she was now.

  In a somber place of acceptance.

  The only place she could be while eight months pregnant with—surprise—twins boys. And on mandatory bedrest due to intermittent spotting while carrying them.

  “Maddie,” Nev said, this time closer.

  “He should be here,” she whispered.

  Nev took her hand holding the mouse and gently pried it out of her hand. “Whiskey will be here soon for your check up.”

  “Van-Gabriel should be here. Why isn’t he here, Nevada?”

  Nev closed the laptop, then lifted the lap desk with it off her legs and out of the way. “Did you take your vitamins?”

  He deflected her question. Again. He always did that. But she wouldn’t complain. Not about Nev or to him. He’d been there for her and by her side since that night and he stayed with her through her mood swings and cravings and when she succumbed to the quiet nights and cried herself to sleep missing Van so much that her heart hurt with it.

  So much had happened since that night.

  So much had changed.

  Yet remained the same.

  It was hard. Dealing with Van gone, but not gone. And he wasn’t gone. Just not here. With her.

  No, he wasn’t gone.

  He was alive.

  She knew it. Felt it in her bones. Saw it in her dreams. Glimpses of him in slow motion. Frozen in time. Van battling the demons that’d charged him from the portal. It was like her mind had somehow immortalize that battle and frozen it in place, then slowly creeped forward so she would remember him.

  And through it all, she felt him. Not alive and pulsing like she had after they’d connected, but something softer, more muted. Solid, yet hollow.

  Van was alive.

  He had to be.

  Because she couldn’t face the alternative.

  “Hey.” Nev tilted her chin up and made her meet his concerned gaze. “Never stop believing. But do stop watching that video.”

  “I… can’t. It’s all I have.”

  “No. It’s not.” He laid his palm on her belly. “This is your future, baby sister. And your last few weeks of freedom before these two hellions come out and usurp all your free time.”

  Her belly jerked as one of the babies kicked at his hand.

  Nev started to smile. “That one is all you.”

  “More like, all his father.”

  “Nah, Van kicks like a girl. This one’s mean. What color do you want the nursery?”

  “I told you, I—”

  “I know,” Nev interrupted. “You want to wait for Van. But I got to thinking about it and have come to the conclusion that’s the wrong thing to do.”

  Maddie sighed. “Not again.”

  “Yes, again, and this time you should listen.”

  “I’m not
changing my mind. Van will be coming home soon and I won’t take this away from him. He helps design the nursery. And pick names. Period. End of story.”

  Nev heaved a dramatic sigh. “Okay, you win. But you should at least admit it.”

  “Admit what?”

  He gave her belly and affectionate rub, then stood up. “That watching that video makes you think of Van leaving you and the last thing my nephews need to develop is a need to kick Daddy’s ass for making the Mama sad.”

  “I… you have a point.”

  “I know and you—”

  Lily jerked to life at the end of the bed with a muted woof. She cocked her head to the side for all of three nanoseconds, then bolted off the bed and out the room.

  Nev watched her go. “That’ll be Whiskey.” He walked towards the hall, but paused at the door. “Once he’s done with you, I’ll show you the idea boards I made for the nursery design.”

  Lily started barking like crazy.

  “Did you say idea boards?”

  Nev grinned and paused long enough to admit, “I got bored. Made three of them. All collaged and glued on a poster presentation board.”

  “I’m afraid.” Maddie chuckled. “And you need to get out more.”

  He winked at her, then turned to leave. “Convince the doc to let you off bedrest and we’ll do just that.”

  “Make Lily stop destroying the front door to get to Whiskey and I’ll hold you to that,” she called as he disappeared down the hallway.

  Maddie smiled and laid her hand over her swollen belly as she listened to Nev try and calm Lily so he could get to the door. “What do you think? Should we let him paint your nursery? It’s either that or put up with him ranting about those soap operas he swears he’s not addicted to. But is.”

  As if to agree, a little foot or fist hit her belly and her hand jumped.

  Male voices sounded in the front room and Lily’s insane barking went quieted.

  It would be exactly like that when Van showed up. And the last thing Van would want to see if how close she came to not believing he’d come back. But she did believe. And so would her sons. “Your uncle is right. You two shouldn’t think badly of your daddy. He’ll be back. I know he will. Because he loves you even though he doesn’t know you. And he will be here when you need him.” Moisture gathered in her eyes. “Just like I know he’ll be here when I need him. And it won’t matter where we are, because wherever we are… that will be home. And he will find us.”