by D. N. Leo
She snuggled into his chest, feeling the virility of his body, hearing the beat of his heart, and she wished they could stay like this forever. She shifted. “We’d better go.”
“Just a few more seconds,” he whispered and held onto her for a little longer. Then he released her, and they left the apartment, leaving the computer running.
Chapter 30
It had been two hours, and they had not been able to locate Zen and Jo. “Unless you can see through walls, I don’t think staring at the building will help,” Lorcan teased.
“Do you have a better idea?”
“I think we should go straight in and ask.”
“Ask whether they have a guest who appears to have kidnapped someone and hidden said person in their room?”
“Well, the building is in the middle of Soho. Anything can happen here. But we can be a bit more subtle than that. Let’s go.”
Lorcan left the rooftop of the building. Orla muttered an objection but followed.
The receptionist looked up from his computer. “May I help you?”
“What do you have available? We don’t have a reservation,” Lorcan said.
The receptionist glanced up and down at them. “We’re fully booked. I’m sorry.”
Orla knew the receptionist hadn’t even checked his database. She slid a bill across the desk. “Well, we only need an hour, and it’s okay if you haven’t had time to make up the room.” She smiled and snuggled into Lorcan’s neck, feeling him stiffen. She slid another bill across the desk and said, “We’ll also need a meal delivered. You can deliver it, say, next year . . . And keep the tip, by the way.” She smiled again.
The receptionist glanced at the bills and smirked. “I’ll find you a room. Would you like to pay by cash?”
“Of course,” Lorcan said, scowling at the way the receptionist eyed Orla.
Orla opened her purse. She tipped it over, spilling the contents. Her lipstick fell to the floor and rolled to the other side of the reception desk. She cursed and chased after it, pushing the purse over. More contents poured from her purse, dropping everywhere. The receptionist got down on all fours, picking up bits and pieces for Orla.
Lorcan took advantage of the receptionist’s distraction, jabbing a device into a USB port on the keyboard on the counter. Before he could pull it out, the receptionist stood up. “Oh, what a mess,” Lorcan muttered and bent over as if to help pick up the runaway contents of Orla’s purse. He pushed the keyboard over, but before it dropped and dangled by its cord, he pulled out his device.
“I’m so sorry,” Orla said.
As soon as the receptionist put the room key on the desk, Lorcan snatched it and ushered Orla toward the elevator at the end of the dimly lit corridor covered in stained carpet.
In a dingy hotel room, Lorcan looked up from his device. “Zen registered for one night only. He didn’t go by Zen—not a surprise—but he wasn’t smart enough to go for anything too creative either. He’s in 25B.”
Orla nodded. “We’re in 32A, so if we go out, left, down the stairs, and right, we’ll be there,” she spoke while tracing her finger over the building map on the wall.
A short moment later, Orla, attired in a room service uniform, knocked on the door to 25B. “Room service,” she said.
“I didn’t order anything,” Zen’s voice came from inside the room.
“You have a package, sir,” Orla said.
Zen cracked the door, the inside chain lock still engaged. “From whom?”
Orla looked at the handwritten note. “Madeline, sir.”
Zen frowned. “Give it to me,” he said and reached his hand out through the gap only wide enough to fit his fist. The package was too big to fit through. “Put it on the floor,” he said.
“Of course, sir.” Orla put the package on the floor and disappeared from Zen’s sight.
He waited for a few seconds. The corridor was quiet, so he opened the inside lock and opened the door wider. Before he could step outside, Lorcan kicked the door in hard. It smashed into Zen’s head. Before he could register any more information, Lorcan pushed him inside the room and knocked him down.
Orla darted inside and glanced around. No Jo.
She ran to the wardrobe.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lorcan muttered.
Yanking the door open, Orla saw Jo curled inside the cabinet, tied up and drugged. Orla untied her and helped her to the bed.
Lorcan pulled Zen up so that he stood on his wobbling legs and punched him. “I won’t hit a man while he’s down. Stand up and take it like a human, you fucking lowlife scumbag woman beater.” He punctuated each word with a punch. Zen slumped to the floor.
“You’ll kill him, Lorcan. We don’t get paid for cleaning up his mess.” Orla gave Jo a glass of water and a dampened washcloth. Then she picked up the desk phone and ordered a feast delivered to the room. Lorcan tied Zen up and squashed him into the cabinet with a pair of his underpants stuffed into his mouth.
Orla raised an eyebrow at Lorcan. “I had my gloves on when I touched them,” he said.
Orla paid for the meal using Zen’s cash, gave the delivery man a two hundred percent tip, and shoved the rest of Zen’s cash into her pocket.
With some food and fresh air, Jo recovered. She was a petite beauty in her late twenties with long black hair, a foxy face, and huge green cat eyes.
“Thanks for the rescue,” Jo said. She looked at Orla and Lorcan with a measured stare. Then she continued. “You’re not with Madeline. You’re Irish. Madeline doesn’t know anyone from Ireland.”
Orla and Lorcan stared at Jo blankly. She grinned. “I’m kidding. I design characters for hologames. I’ve done a lot of people profiling, and I’m very good at picking up accents. You’re doing very well, by the way. Most people wouldn’t be able to pick up your Irish accent. Not like I’m abnormal or anything . . . I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” she trailed off.
Orla smiled. “Saves us asking you questions.”
Jo shrugged. “Zen made a call last night to Madeline. He put me on the phone. So I got to talk to Madeline and Ciaran. They made a deal with Zen to make an exchange for me later today. That is, Madeline and Ciaran were to give Zen the information he wants, and Zen was to let me go. I don’t think you’re in this deal at all. Who are you working for, and what do you want from me?” Jo polished off the last bit of pancake on her plate.
Lorcan raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. Jo cast him an intense look, then she smiled. “You’re a hacker.”
“I’m sorry?” Lorcan asked.
Jo pointed at Orla. “She does the sweet talking, and you do the tech and muscling jobs. You’re contractors for hire. So what’s your service exactly? And don’t say rescuing kidnapping victims because I won’t believe you.”
Orla stood up. She walked to the window and stared outside. Lorcan cleared his throat. “You’re too smart for your own good, Jo. She does more than sweet talking, and I hardly ever use muscles unless I have to punch up scumbags. You’re right about the tech job. She hates computers. Yes, we were hired to provide a service, and part of that the service involves rescuing you. Tell us why they kidnapped you, and we’ll tell you the rest.”
Orla turned back from the window, looking at Jo, waiting for an answer.
Jo shrugged. “I designed a hologame called Mind Ripper. It can profile people’s minds and simulate their thought processes. Effectively, it means you can pry information out of people without even asking them. Zen wants to simulate the mind of a dead alchemist named John Dee. I think Zen believes John Dee could make gold. Anyway, I was lucky. I only handle one part of the program. The other half—the more difficult half—was programmed by a game partner in London called White Knight. That’s why Zen snatched me out of my apartment and blackmailed Madeline. He wanted her go to London to lure out the real person behind White Knight.”
Lorcan and Orla looked at each other. They’d been spying on the conversations. They knew Jo was telli
ng the truth.
“You think Zen will let you go after he knows who White Knight is? Wouldn’t he need your part of the program?”
“He’s already got my part. He stole it from my computer. Not that he knows how to run the program. So that’s my story. What’s yours? To whom am I being delivered?”
“Why do you ask that?” Lorcan asked.
“Obviously, someone paid you to rescue me. And that person isn’t Madeline or Ciaran.”
Orla and Lorcan looked at each other, saying nothing. Then Lorcan nodded.
Orla took Zen’s cash from her pocket and gave it to Jo. “Take this. Don’t run straight to Madeline or Ciaran. Go to the police.”
Jo stood up to leave.
“Can I at least know your names?” Jo asked. Tears welled up in her eyes.
Lorcan smiled. He kissed Jo in the cheek. “You take care. I hope we meet again. I like hologames.”
After Jo left, Lorcan locked the door and yanked Zen out of the cabinet. He threw him on the floor.
“Please don’t kill me,” Zen moaned. Lorcan pressed a pillow against his head and pointed the gun at it.
“Orla, one bullet and you’ll free yourself from the black curse.” He gave Orla the gun. Zen kicked, struggled, and cried underneath the pillow. Orla held the gun, her hands shaking. She aimed at Zen’s head while Lorcan held him down.
“We’re so close, Orla. No need to worry about the curse anymore. No need to run. We’ll be free to live the life we deserve. Just pull the trigger. For me. For us.” Lorcan’s eyes were pleading, desperate.
Orla pointed the gun. Her hands shook more. She pulled at the trigger. Tears rolled down her face. Zen begged and cried. Lorcan looked at her. She let out a cry and lowered the gun. Lorcan pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tightly. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I asked you to do that. I’m so sorry.” Orla could feel his body trembling with emotion. They were so close to freedom, and yet too close to demonize themselves.
Lorcan dragged Zen back into the cabinet. “Today’s your lucky day. One more scream before we leave the building, and you won’t be that lucky.”
He slammed the door closed and escorted Orla out of the hotel.
Chapter 31
They walked from Soho toward the river in silence. Hand in hand, they walked along the river, breathing in the cold breeze blowing in across the water. They turned into the park and went to the riverbank where they watched the water flowing peacefully. Lorcan cradled Orla in his arms. He cupped his hand behind her neck and kissed her. His kisses always sent shockwaves through her system. She tilted her head back, stood on her tiptoes, and reached up to give him more access.
“Marry me,” he whispered.
Orla looked at Lorcan, a tear rolling down her face. “After all that we’ve been through, you still want to marry me?” she asked. “Knowing I might be a sorceress using dark magic or be dragged down to Hell, you still want to marry me?”
“As long as you don’t turn the rock you gave me into gold . . . I still love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long or short our lives are going to be. I keep my promises. I want you to keep your promises to me too.” He lifted her chin. “Please say yes.”
She smiled. Lorcan put on a pretend scowl. “Still not a yes.” He pulled out the ring box from his pocket and flipped it open. A square sapphire stone looked up at her. She smiled again.
“Do I need to kneel? It’s a bit embarrassing in public, but if that’s what it takes . . .”
“Yes.” Another tear rolled down her face. He hitched her up, kissed the tear off, and they kissed. The phone in her pocket buzzed. He groaned. “Ignore it,” he said. He kept kissing her. The phone buzzed again. He shoved the ring box back into his pocket and let her answer the phone. “It’s Riley,” Orla said looking at the Caller ID. The smile faded from Lorcan’s face. “Okay. Be right there.” Orla hung up. “It’s Noah. Trouble,” she said. Lorcan grabbed Orla’s hand and pulled her toward the parking lot.
Twenty minutes later, they stormed into Riley’s house. Riley spoke too fast, stuttering. “His teacher called. He sneaked out of the school in late afternoon just before the day finished. The teacher said he left during the day as well. I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t called me. You said before that those Hell creatures might still want Noah, right? Where did you run into them?”
“But I thought they got what they wanted,” Lorcan said.
Orla shook her head. “No. I don’t think this is their doing.”
“What do you mean? Something else out there wants Noah?” Lorcan asked.
Orla looked around the house. She crinkled her nose. “You smell that?” she asked. Lorcan and Riley shook their head. Orla walked around. “The smell of ritual. Incense. Potion. Someone performed a ritual here. As to what it was, I don’t know.”
“Someone got my son . . .” Riley flopped to the couch.
Orla said, “He’s not in danger. Or not yet.”
“Please tell me how to find him. I’ll do anything,” Riley said.
“He can’t go too far by himself . . .” Lorcan said.
“Hush, shhh. Listen,” Orla said. They heard a hissing sound, scratching, and something moving in the corner of the room. Then the kitten climbed in from the little door Riley made him. “Oh, there you are. You know where Noah is, right? Show us.” The kitten stared at Orla, then turned and went back out the cat door.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lorcan grumbled but followed Orla outside. The kitten headed toward the park behind the house. “You can’t be serious. We got attacked here, and now Noah’s coming back here by himself?”
The kitten kept walking. At the far end of the park, they could see the flicker of candles. Even from a distance, they could see Noah’s tiny shape, wearing a black jacket and walking barefoot in a circle with a book in his hands. He chanted words he read from a small piece of paper.
Before Riley could call out for his son, a whirl of black smoke seeped up from the ground around Noah. They heard the painful roars of demons from Hell. The wind gushed out from behind the trees, and the candles flickered rapidly.
“He’s summoning the dark spirits to free his mother,” Orla muttered. “This isn’t going to work. It doesn’t work that way.” The three of them ran at Noah, calling out to him. He didn’t seem to hear them but continued to chant as if he couldn’t stop. His eyes rolled back in his head.
The wind grabbed at Orla, Riley, and Lorcan, throwing them in the opposite direction. It whirled around Noah like a small tornado, forming an invisible wall. They couldn’t penetrate it. Riley called out for Noah again, but he didn’t answer. He dropped the book on the ground and kept chanting.
“It’s the wrong spell. They’re going to take him,” Orla said.
They could all hear the roaring sound of hundreds of hungry demons from Hell.
“Do something, Orla.” Lorcan said. “You can’t let them.”
The heard a shriek from behind them. Spirits raised up and marched toward the circle. Orla dropped to the ground and drew a triangle on the grass. She mumbled a spell to release hexes and curses. The ground rumbled, and they heard cracking sound. “Look out!” Lorcan charged at Orla, pulling her out of the way just before a tree fell down where she just sat.
Orla kept muttering her spells. Noah’s eyes came back to normal. He saw the army of creatures and demons approaching him. In the distance, he could see his father, Lorcan, and Orla. The creatures penetrated the wind wall and approached Noah. Lorcan and Riley tried again to break through but couldn’t.
They heard a ‘meow’ and saw the small shadow of the kitten throwing itself at the wind wall. The wall shattered and the wind stopped. Lorcan and Riley rushed over to Noah. The creatures ran toward Noah as well. The cat stood in front of the boy, ears perked up, green eyes sparkling, fur bristled, tail straight up, teeth bared. These gigantic Hell creatures stopped in their tracks, halted by a cat and a kid.
“A s
ymbol of the innocent,” Orla whispered. She smiled and continued to chant her spells. The ground beneath the creatures suddenly caved in and swallowed them. The ground underneath Noah also dropped out, and he disappeared from sight. Orla swung her arms, and the earth in front of them cracked open. She dove in, followed by Lorcan and Riley.
They dropped into a dark place.
Hell.
In front them and at a distance, Noah stood with the kitten in his hands. The long and dark hallway was flanked by holes and cells with creatures, demons, and shackled people. Blood and gore was everywhere, and Noah walked straight ahead, ignoring Lorcan and Riley’s cries.
“He’s going to get his mother. Until he does, he won’t come back,” said Orla.
They raced after him, but no matter how fast they ran, they couldn’t catch him. Noah strode through the narrow corridor, ignoring the creatures that reached out to grab him. Riley, Orla, and Lorcan ran and ran, called to him. Nothing seemed to work.
While the adults were being attacked left and right, Noah seemed unstoppable. The creatures and demons hissed at him but withdrew as he passed. He finally reached the last cell where he found Michelle shackled to a wall.
“Mother!” Noah called.
Michelle looked up, blinked, and recognized her son. “Noah! Run!” she cried out.
Two demon gatekeepers stepped out in front of the boy, gigantic axes in their hands. Orla screamed out her spells. Fireballs flew at the gatekeepers, but they caused no damage. Instead, they bounced back at Orla. Lorcan could see them coming, but they were too fast, and there was nothing he could do except watching them rain down on her. But suddenly, a white shadow shot out in front of Orla and wrapped the fireballs up in a ring of white light. The shadow turned around.
