Her mother and grandmother and all the women who had held gifts before her had given those gifts to her for one purpose. This was her moment, her time. She was the one who had to point the hunters in the direction of the prey.
At first, as she casually opened drawers and touched each file, she felt nothing at all—and she should have, right? She took a deep breath and let it out, stilling her mind, reaching not only with the gifts the earth had given her, but also with the enhanced senses her blood exchanges with Dax had given her. Still, nothing.
She stood for a moment looking up and down the stacks of files, the endless shelves of them and the cabinet set near the doctor’s office. This had to be the right place. She knew she was right. What was she really looking for? Not the clerk. The shadow. The one directing the clerk. The slice of a shadow would be inside that human puppet, and Arabejila had left her one more priceless gift—her bloodline. Her blood called to Mitro’s. If there was a sliver, even a small shadow in the clerk and Mitro had put it there, her blood would know.
The idea of any connection to him was so repugnant she actually stood there for a moment with her stomach twisting into knots. Riley set her shoulders and closed her eyes briefly before she reached out and touched the chart on top of the stack waiting to be put away. Her veins pulsed. Throbbed. There it was, the tiniest of threads, but she could track it now that she had it. It was so faint, barely there, but her blood knew him. He couldn’t hide from her.
Elation swept through her. “I’ve got him, Dax. I can find him now. Or at least the one who can lead you to him.”
Dax and Riordan joined her immediately. Dax put his arm around her and swept her close. He leaned down to brush a comforting kiss on her forehead. “I knew you’d find him.”
“The touch is feminine to me,” Riley corrected. “I have no idea who it is, though, but I think I can follow the trail.”
Even with Dax standing close, she felt the throbbing in her veins, a drumbeat that lingered in the touch of the clerk. Riley turned and walked past the doctor’s office to the back door. “She goes this way to leave.”
“Let’s go find her,” Riordan said. “I’d like to know where she lives.”
“If Riley has correctly identified this clerk as the puppet, you have to know that means Mitro is directing her in every one of her actions,” Dax pointed out. “She’ll be as dangerous as any one of his ghouls.” He stated the caution aloud, wanting Riley to understand they weren’t dealing with a person anymore. Whoever she had been was long gone. She belonged to Mitro now.
“Keep in mind always,” Riordan added, “that this person is responsible for the deaths of at least six babies and their mothers.”
Riley moistened her lips. She knew what they were doing—preparing her should they find the woman and have to destroy her. They didn’t want her to feel guilty. She’d seen what Mitro had turned villagers into—she really didn’t need the warning—but she appreciated it all the same. She knew both men were looking out for her, and that was a comfort.
Dax and Riordan dropped back to allow her to take the lead. Dax scanned outside the clinic and deeming it safe, waved his hand to open the back door. Riley found the spot where the woman kept her small scooter. It was still early enough that there were people on the street. Dax caught Riley’s shoulder to halt her, taking another long look around.
“You catch anything?” he asked Riordan.
Riordan shook his head. “I don’t feel any danger. I think she’s safe, and we’ll both protect her. I’ll keep everyone from seeing us. Let her track the undead’s puppet.”
“Are you up for this?” Dax asked. “You don’t have to.”
“I do,” she corrected. “We’re going to stop him and this is the first step.”
Dax took to the air, holding Riley in front of him, Riordan flanking them, ensuring they were shielded from the evening crowd.
“To the right. Stay to the right.” Riley couldn’t be caught up in the beauty of the night, or flying. Holding on to that weak link between her blood and that almost nonexistent trace of Mitro was difficult and took every ounce of concentration and discipline she’d developed over the years.
The scooter had turned off the street to follow a narrow alley, through a parking garage and then down through another series of alleys, two so narrow they were more like footpaths between buildings. The buildings seemed old and worn, paint peeling, windows broken. Garbage cluttered the ground and the elderly, mentally ill and addicts shuffled along the alleys or lay under cardboard tents. Prostitutes trolled the corners of every block, some sporting black eyes and most looking hopeless. This part of the city was scarred and ugly, a hidden underbelly beneath the dazzling lights.
There was a short stop at a small store. And then the faint trail was back, the clerk making her way through a maze of back alleys until she came to what looked like an abandoned factory. The high chain-link fence was damaged in multiple areas and the scooter slipped through one of the many tears. The fence was held back with large barrels, just enough for a person or a small vehicle such as a scooter to slip through.
Dax scanned the building. “There are several men and women here.”
“Underground,” Riordan added. “This seems to be their residence.”
“They’re making their way out here to the parking lot,” Dax added. “Riley, we’ll keep them from seeing you. Can you pick her out of a crowd?”
“We’ll see. I think so. In any case, we have to follow them just in case she leads us to someone else. She might be one link in a long chain,” Riley said.
“Maybe,” Dax said, “but given Mitro’s personality, if this woman can function in the world working as a clerk, she’s probably one of those closest to him. He wants worshippers. He needs a few priests and priestesses. He’ll want them to go out and collect others. If he deems them worthy, he’ll keep them as followers, otherwise, he’ll sacrifice them, and each time he does, he’ll make certain his flock is watching him.”
“If you believe this woman gathering the names of pregnant jaguar women is a high-ranking member of his inner circle,” Riordan said, “then I’m with Riley. Let’s get as far on this trail as we can tonight.”
They watched the group emerge. Three men and two girls came out of the warehouse. All five were dressed in black. One of the men the others referred to as Davi wore leather pants and a vest. His hair was grungy and long. His arms and chest were covered in tattoos depicting very graphic violent scenes, mainly involving naked women. He shoved his dark glasses on his nose and wrapped his arm around one of the women. He seemed to be in charge, the others agreeing with everything he said as they pushed their way through the chain-link fence and started down the uneven road.
Riley studied the two women. Both were about the same height. Both were covered in piercings and wore the same short black skirts, net stockings, corsets and high heels. The woman with the bright, dyed red hair had her breasts nearly exposed by the grungy male groping her as they walked along the dirty road. Davi called her Ana. Riley dismissed her almost immediately. She was too submissive, too easily controlled and enthralled by her male partner. Riley couldn’t see Mitro willingly sharing loyalties. She turned her attention to the other woman.
Riley’s pulse jumped when she concentrated on the one the others in the group called Pietra. She walked a little apart from the others, her eyes overbright as if she was on some drug. Her fingers continually twitched against her thigh as she walked, those long, painted black nails tapping out a rhythm only she heard. She carried herself slightly aloof from her companions. She walked a little faster than the others as if she was eager to reach her destination.
Riley closed herself off from everything, trusting Dax to keep her safe. She listened to that tiny throbbing drumbeat in her veins. It was deep, a nagging thump nearly drowned out by the sound of her own racing pulse.
Pietra. The one they call Pietra, she identified.
Pietra suddenly began muttering, her body jerking
around her, those bright eyes going dark, almost demonic. Her face pulled into a mask of rage. She looked around her, a careful, thorough sweep of rooftops, the air above her and the buildings surrounding her.
Riley held her breath. Dax tightened his grip on her, drawing her close to him. Mitro is strong in her. He’s looking through her eyes. Don’t speak, not even to me.
She wasn’t about to make a sound. She could see the difference in Pietra. Her beautiful face had been the mask covering evil. The woman looking around her, lips pulled back in a snarl of hatred—that was the true character behind that sweet, almost childish face. Riley realized that Mitro had chosen this woman to be in his inner circle because she was easily corrupted. She already had the seeds of cruelty and depravity in her.
Mitro appeals to her. She finds him sexy and dangerous. When he kills others in front of her it turns her on. She bathes in the blood of his victims just as she believes the countess Elizabeth Bathory did. Dax pushed the information into her mind. She has killed before. Her mother. A sister. A woman she thought was making a move on a man she liked. She was ripe for Mitro.
What in the world was she doing working in Dr. Silva’s clinic around all those pregnant women? Riordan demanded.
I’m afraid your doctor isn’t able to read minds in the way we can, Dax pointed out. She doesn’t have that advantage. I imagine this woman is quite cunning and can appear innocent and sweet. That would also appeal to Mitro. He loves deception. The thought that he could send a killer into a place where life is brought into the world would be especially gratifying to him.
Riley wanted to weep for those lost women, victims of such atrocities, mothers to be, looking forward to the birth of their children, only to meet a woman like Pietra. Beautiful on the outside but cold and rotten on the inside. The women had trusted her, just as the doctor had.
She waited until the small group had gotten a distance in front of them and Pietra had resumed moving steadily toward her destination, no longer suspicious.
They have to be stopped, Dax. Whatever it takes, we have to stop them. She understood the drive Dax had to destroy evil now.
Dax had devoted his life to the purpose of ridding the world of creatures such as Mitro. His life had seemed filled with honor, but terribly bleak and depressing, a stark, ugly world of vile criminals. She felt the need to be right beside him, no matter how terrifying it was. People such as Pietra had to be stopped. And malicious, evil creatures such as Mitro had to be destroyed.
She felt she understood and loved Dax all the more for the insight. How could she not? He might look at his life as one of duty, but she knew just how much looking at those dead people, their lives taken from them in such brutal ways, had affected him. He lived with the memories every day.
She felt the brush of his mouth over the top of her head. I have you to take the memories away, Riley. Don’t feel bad for me. I don’t. My life just … is. It was my choice.
She was well aware he had made his choices, just as she was making hers. Whatever it took, being with Dax was worth it. On some level, from the moment she’d laid eyes on the warrior, so badly wounded, she’d known he was meant to be with her.
She poured warmth and love into his mind. They might be surrounded by evil, but they could sustain one another through it.
She began to hear the muffled sounds of music and voices as they approached another set of abandoned warehouses. They followed Pietra and the others through a splintered door hanging on broken hinges. Inside the room were old mattresses, trash, needles and cigarette butts. They went through the large room without hesitation to a narrow opening that led to a staircase.
The music grew louder as did the voices as they descended. Davi pulled open a heavy door, and music blasted out. Riley clapped her hands over her ears.
Turn down the volume, Dax instructed.
It took a couple of minutes to figure out how to consciously control her ability to hear. There were hundreds of conversations going on. She could actually hear individual ones at the same time. Between that and the melancholy music, she felt a little insane. Everyone was dressed in the same dark clothing, with multiple piercings over their faces. Many wore dark glasses even in the dark of the warehouse.
Riordan nudged Dax and lifted his chin toward a man moving among the dancing crowd. Clearly he was selling drugs. Riley looked over the room and noted several dealers in the throng.
Pietra and her friends didn’t deign to speak to anyone on that level, but swept across the room to the other side. The crowd parted for them immediately, never hindering their progress, which told Riley a lot about Pietra’s status in the underground club. A door on the far side of the room led to another staircase leading down. As far as Riley could tell, the place was a firetrap. There were too few exits and too many people, most of them bored, drunk and high, a bad combination.
Riley felt as though she was descending into hell as they followed Pietra down the stairs to the next level. They came to a doorway with two men guarding it closely. Pietra didn’t say a word, but lifted her chin, and one of the guards hastily opened the door. Dax went through fast with Riley. Riordan had to slip beneath the door when the guard shut it just as fast.
Riley nearly gagged. There was a revolting, foul feel to the air. Every breath she took felt as if she was drawing something oily and vile into her lungs. Her heart jumped in alarm. The stench of evil permeated this level. The music jangled her nerves. There were no melancholy strains, but pounding, beating chaotic notes with the crowd mindlessly freak dancing in the space much smaller than the one above them.
The smell of sweat and drugs mixed with soil and blood. The walls of the “club” were dirt, as was the floor. They weren’t in a dance club. They were in Mitro’s lair, surrounded by his human puppets. Great twisted vines rippled across the walls with obscene life. Riley noticed that everyone stayed well away from them.
Again the crowd parted to allow Pietra through. Davi, Ana and the others followed her, winding their way to the front of the room.
He isn’t here yet, but can you feel the anticipation in this room? They’re all waiting for him, Dax said.
The drug consumption here is appalling, Riordan said, looking around at the frantic, moving bodies.
There are bloodstains on the floor, the walls and up there on that dais. Dax indicated the platform at the front of the room where Pietra had draped herself casually over a chair, her elegant legs crossed, her foot tapping a rhythm to the pounding beat.
Riley studied her face. Her eyes were nearly glazed, her mouth twisted into a grotesque parody of a smile. The whites of her eyes were nearly gone. A sick black spread like a disease, nearly covering all of her eyes. Riley shuddered. A small sliver of the most evil creature on earth dwelled inside of Pietra, binding itself to the woman’s own revolting, malevolent nature.
I need to feel the soil, Dax. She could feel the pain, hear it just underneath the beat of the music.
That’s not going to happen. If you put your hands into the soil and his resting place is anywhere beneath us, and he’s there, he’ll know exactly where you are.
Riley shook her head. She couldn’t explain, but she already knew Mitro wasn’t in the ground. He was out hunting. The soil was calling to her. Begging her. The mutations he’d created were in pain. Their eagerness for blood was not natural. The human sacrifices fed to them burned like acid, but they had no choice.
The vines stirred restlessly, the wooden liana clacking against one another, leaves lifting as if they might reach for her. Each time the plant moved, it released a gaseous stench of evil into the room, threatening to choke her.
Dax, I can turn the very soil against him. I hear it crying out against an abomination. Nature has an order, and he goes against everything nature stands for. This might be our edge.
And he might kill you, Riley. I don’t want to take that chance.
There is no living without you. You’re here fighting him. I have to fight him in my own way. I look at
that horrible woman sitting up there all smug, knowing she marked six women to be murdered, their babies sacrificed before they were even born, and it sickens me. She’s marked Jasmine now, too.
Riley was passionate about her argument. She was angry and determined this was going to end. She might not be a warrior, but she was a child of the earth. She could heal the soil and plants before Mitro returned if Dax would just give her the chance. If Mitro tried to escape Dax and Riordan through the earth, he would be in for a huge shock. She just needed the chance to stop him, and he’d provided the perfect situation without realizing it.
Dax leaned down and put his mouth against her ear, but spoke directly into her mind. You’re certain you want to do this?
More certain than anything in my life other than I love you with all my heart, she assured him. Let me do this, Dax.
First and foremost, she wanted this nightmare to end for him, but the simple truth was Mitro couldn’t be allowed to continue with his revolting depravity. Arabejila and every one of her ancestors who had come after her had poured their strength, their gifts into her, making her a vessel for them.
She looked around the room. It was more of a basement, only much deeper beneath the earth. Mitro could bring the high walls down on his followers in seconds should he choose. He could open the earth and dump them into the very pit of hell should he want—and she was certain he probably had constructed this room with that idea in mind. His worshippers would all perish here, in this living tomb while he rose again and again somewhere else once he was bored, or the hunters got too close.
He thinks he’s safe for now, Dax conceded. He has no idea we’re even in the city.
And he obviously doesn’t have a clue who I am, Riordan added.
Let’s do it then. Riley will need to be at the opposite end of the room, shielded from Pietra. If Mitro uses her eyes to check the room before he arrives, we can’t have him spotting her, Dax cautioned.
Dark Storm ('Dark' Carpathian Series) Page 37
