by Brenda Huber
“I won’t,” Niklas assured him, ignoring the speculative glance Mikhail sent his way.
Asher’s head tilted. His focus seemed to turn inward. And yet, he appeared hyperaware of his surroundings. “And that’s my cue,” he murmured a split second before he vanished.
Across the room, the air distorted. Xander, Sebastian and Gideon suddenly appeared. Ah, yes. Another of the mercenary’s little quirks, Niklas recalled. Crowds made Asher twitchy.
Gideon scanned the area before returning to Niklas. “Carly?”
“She’s at the farm. Now that we have Ronové, she’ll be safe. I didn’t want her near this.”
Sebastian let out a loud, impressed whistle as soon as ne noticed Ronové. “Sweet!” Chuckling, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation as the five of them converged on Ronové.
Niklas conjured a bucket of ice-cold water and took great pleasure in tossing it, bucket and all, in Ronové’s face. Ronové came instantly awake, spitting and swearing.
“Arghh,” he bellowed. “I’m gonna”—he wrenched on the cuffs, but, true to Asher’s word, they didn’t budge—“cut off your balls and shove them down your throat. I’m gonna—” He jerked violently, doing his damnedest to rip the chair from the floor. It didn’t budge either.
Niklas snapped Ronové’s head back and to the side with the back of his hand. Blood sprayed across Sebastian’s white T-shirt. Sebastian didn’t seem to mind. “What you’re gonna do is answer my questions, you skeezy SOB.”
Ronové spit a fang and a mouthful of blood at Niklas, who agilely dodged to the side at the last moment. “Fuck off.”
Mikhail smiled, evil incarnate, as he popped his knuckles. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Mikhail set to work on Ronové—not the brutal beating one might expect, but a subtle application of pain in all the right places, slowly straining tendons until they tore, leisurely exerting pressure until bones snapped. Gideon and Sebastian stood on the sidelines, making helpful suggestions. Niklas had just decided to step in before Ronové was rendered completely unable to speak, when he realized he felt…wrong. His connection to Carly made him uneasy all of a sudden. He couldn’t pin down exactly what it was, but something seemed wrong.
The back of his neck prickled, and he was torn. Mikhail had finally begun to wring answers from Ronové. But he had the strangest urge to go to Carly. To verify with his own eyes that she was all right. He’d almost decided to shimmer back to the farm, just for a moment, when her name tripped from Ronové’s lips.
Niklas seized Ronové by the throat. “What about Carly?”
“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?”
Squeezing, Niklas restricted Ronové’s airflow until the demon began to turn a mottled shade of purple. Only Sebastian’s restraining hand prevented him from snapping the demon’s head off his shoulders.
“Her skin was so soft. I bet she’s soft as silk between her—”
Niklas shattered Ronové’s nose. Once again, blood sprayed, this time catching Gideon. The Demon of Temptation arched an eyebrow at Niklas. “Thanks,” he drawled.
“You had that coming,” Niklas growled, fisting Ronové’s hair and jerking his head back.
“You all in on the action? The five of you pass her around like a piece of—”
This time, when Niklas’s fist connected, it knocked Ronové unconscious.
Backhanding Ronové awake, Niklas demanded, “Why are you after Carly?”
“Woman saw too much,” Ronové hissed. “I didn’t have a choice. I had to take her out.”
“Well, you failed, didn’t you?” Niklas got right up in his face. “You’ll never get to her now.”
Ronové sneered, making the fine hairs on the back of Niklas’s neck stand straight up. “You think I’m the only one gunning for her?”
Niklas’s blood ran cold.
“Who else?” He had his switchblade in his hand and was pressing it to Ronové’s throat before he realized what he was doing. “Who else?”
Grinning, his teeth bloody, Ronové pushed his throat against the blade until blood began to run in a steady rivulet. This time it was Xander who pulled Niklas back.
“The nest in South America?” Xander grated.
“I don’t have anything to do with that nest,” Ronové howled. “I don’t know why they’re gathering. Glasya…that’s Glasya’s nest.”
“And the one near Ridgefield?”
Ronové pressed his lips together. Gideon grasped one of Ronové’s horns and twisted, cranking until it snapped clean off. A crimson arc shot across the room for a moment like an arterial spray. Ronové screamed.
“Gusion,” Ronové panted. “Gusion’s nest. Don’t know anything else about that one.”
Niklas glanced at Xander for confirmation. He gave a subtle nod. Ronové was telling the truth.
Sebastian stepped up to the plate. “What about the Sword of Kathnesh? Where is it?”
Ronové looked him dead in the eye and hissed through the pain, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Lie,” Xander stated flatly.
Sebastian snapped Ronové’s remaining horn off at the base. Blood sprayed and Ronové screamed.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Sebastian rolled the amputated horn between his thumb and his first two fingers right in front of Ronové’s glassy, agonized eyes. “Now, tell us about the sword.”
Chest heaving, he spat out, “Screw you, Vengeance.”
“The hell with this,” Niklas muttered, snatching the horn from Sebastian. He drove the poisonous point through Ronové’s thigh, lodging the tip in the metal seat below him. “Tell us about the damned sword!”
Ronové’s eyes rolled back as he gasped for air. “Okay, okay,” he sobbed. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth, soaking the front of his shirt. “He has it. Stolas has the sword. He has to have the other relics to wrest control from Lucifer. All of them. Must follow the Prophesy.”
The Prophesy? So Stolas did believe the old prophecy was true. Not only did that make Stolas crazy, it made him fanatical.
But they already knew this.
“Where is it?” demanded Xander.
Ronové shook his head. One last stab at resistance.
“Where is the sword?” Xander shouted as he pressed his thumb into Ronové’s shattered collarbone.
“It’s in Hell. Hidden in the borderlands of M—” A blur of gray fur launched itself between Gideon and Sebastian. A flash of silver. And Ronové’s head rolled to the floor.
Niklas caught a fleeting glimpse of Dimiezlo as the creature landed on his hooves some twenty feet away. His beady, black eyes scanned them as they gaped, too shocked to move, and then he shimmered away.
What the hell!
The five of them stood in a circle around the headless body, staring at the spot where Dimiezlo had disappeared. Since the beginning, Dimiezlo had been Ronové’s faithful servant. Only a handful of demons could exert that kind of control over an Animagi Demon, motivating him to this level of betrayal.
Stolas.
A chill ran down Niklas’s spine as Ronové’s words came back to haunt him. You think I’m the only one gunning for her?
“Carly,” Niklas whispered. Centering his focus on the farm, he shimmered into the living room. The others appeared in the room less than a moment later.
Niklas’s stomach dropped as he surveyed the room, the scattered objects. The overturned table. The shattered cup. “Carly!” he bellowed.
Blood. Carly’s blood, splattered across the wall.
Oh God!
Where was she? He couldn’t detect her essence there in the house. But her guard stones were there, somewhere.
Just as that thought formed, Gideon called his name in a strangled tone. Niklas whirled around, his eyes going wide as Gideon held
up Carly’s necklace and bracelet in one hand. Her ring in the other.
He flew to Gideon’s side and snatched the jewelry from him. The clasp on the necklace had been broken. The bracelet had snapped between two links, as if torn from her wrist. He scanned the room, lingering on the blood on the wall. Bending, he scooped up the ring she’d sworn never to take off again.
Why had he ignored those uneasy sensations?
He looked around the room again for some clue. She’d resisted. Even as terror gripped his insides, twisting mercilessly, pride blossomed in his chest. His girl was a fighter. More importantly, she was a survivor.
But he’d ignored the tug. He hadn’t kept the promise he’d made her.
He’d failed her.
Closing his eyes, he strained to find her. Why was it so difficult? Opening himself up, absorbing the lingering essence in the room, he gasped aloud.
He was struggling to find her because she was no longer on this plane.
Icy fear swamped him as he cast his senses farther.
He staggered back a step and clutched the back of the sofa for support as he turned incredulous, horrified eyes to his companions.
“Where is she?” Gideon demanded, grim, ready to do battle.
“Hell,” Niklas whispered. “She’s literally in Hell.”
Closing his eyes, he centered on her essence. But a hand on his shoulder popped his eyes open. Damn it, he had to get to her. Had to save her.
“It’s a trap,” Xander warned.
“I don’t care!” Niklas exploded. “She’s my woman!”
“Then we all go,” Sebastian barked.
He shook his head. He couldn’t put the others at risk. “If something goes wrong—”
“Then we’ll be there to back you up,” Mikhail interrupted.
“Damn it, don’t you understand?” Niklas glared at each of them in turn. “It could be a trap, and I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to bring you back this time. You could be stuck there. In Hell!”
Gideon laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going.”
“She is your woman,” Xander rasped. “We will not leave her to Gusion.”
If anyone would understand Niklas’s desperate need to save Carly, it would be Xander.
Seeing the cold determination glinting in their collective eyes—determination and loyalty—Niklas was humbled by their support. Humbled by this united display of friendship.
Nodding, he held his arm out. Gideon clasped his shoulder. Mikhail his elbow. Sebastian and Xander grabbed hold of his forearms. Closing his eyes, he struggled with all his might to lock on to Carly. Shimmering with one, even two others was difficult enough. Taking all four of them with him was pushing him to his limits. But they could not sense her as he could, so they had no idea where to go. There was no other way.
Sulfur burned his nostrils. No matter how long he’d been gone, that smell was never forgotten.
Sweet Christ, how I hate that smell.
The minute his feet touched solid ground, the others released him and all five went into a defensive stance. The hall was dim, lit only by the ambient glow of torches. He’d been here once before. Millennia ago. But he knew this place.
Gusion.
The demon would die.
A huge, rough, black slab of granite rested in the middle of the room. Carly lay upon it like a virginal offering sprawled on the altar of a monster. He’d dressed her in a thin covering of white lace and nothing more. So help him. If the demon had touched her—
What they’d done to Ronové would look like child’s play.
Her eyes were closed, and she was deathly white. Smears of crimson trailed over her forehead and down her right temple. Her left wrist lay at an odd angle. Beneath the sheer white material, horrendous bruises had already begun to form across the side of her rib cage. Matching color marred the side of her face. Her eye had begun to swell. Oh God, she had so many bruises. Her knee was scuffed and bleeding.
He rushed forward, prepared to snatch her up and shimmer her away, when Gusion appeared on the opposite side of the altar, a long, thin sword poised inches above her precious neck. His grin was depraved, malevolent. Niklas skidded to a halt.
“At last, the great Seer has returned.” Gusion glanced behind Niklas. “And look. He brought along his little friends to play.”
“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch,” Niklas snarled.
“Maybe,” Gusion softly allowed. “But not before I kill her,”
A roar of rage bellowed up from the depths of Niklas’s soul. Every step he took was an inch closer that the blade came to her delicate skin. Carly slowly roused. Blinking, she frowned and made to rise, until the sharp edge of the blade nicked her skin. She gave a tiny whimper and flattened herself back against the granite.
“Let her go,” Niklas demanded.
“Niklas?” Carly called groggily, slowly tilting her head just the tiniest bit so that she could search for him.
“I don’t think so, Seer. It’s been a while since I’ve had a taste of anything this delectable.”
Niklas advanced, filled with fury.
“Back off,” Gusion snarled. His blade dipped closer, drawing a fine bead of crimson.
Niklas froze, taking in her face, her wide, glassy eyes. A mistake. The sheer terror in her eyes was nearly his undoing. The urge to change came upon him in such a sudden surge it was almost impossible to deny.
But…
If, God forbid, but if something went wrong, he didn’t want the last thing she saw to be the monster within him. And so, for her, he battled the change and faced off against Gusion not as a beast, but as a man.
“Okay. Okay.” He lifted his hands in supplication. “Tell me what you want. Just let her go.”
“Hmm.” Gusion’s black eyes gleamed. “What I want…”
Behind him, he could hear the others shifting restlessly. Please don’t let one of them—or all of them—do anything rash. He looked at the blade. It was still much too close to her neck.
“You, Seer,” Gusion finally drawled. “Or, rather, your head, to be exact. You will offer yourself in her place. Willingly. No resistance.”
“No,” Carly gasped, whipping her head around, cutting herself further.
The sight of crimson trickling along her pale throat ripped through him. His claws shot out. His fangs began to lengthen. His eyes began to burn, foretelling the imminent change in him. “Lift the damn blade,” he roared.
Gusion arched a brow in warning, but he complied, sparing Carly precious inches of breathing room.
“If I agree, you’ll let her go? And the others? You’ll let them all go?”
Grumbling erupted behind him, but he ignored it. Carly protested. But he ignored her too. Intent only on Gusion.
“I will,” Gusion vowed. “I’ll let her go as soon as the others shimmer from here.”
“They all go together. With Carly.”
“No, Niklas. Don’t do this. Don’t!”
Gusion considered Niklas’s demands, ignoring Carly as well. A slow, gruesome smile curved his lips. “They can’t shimmer between realms, can they? Only you and the Slayer can. I’d almost forgotten that little fact.” His sly gaze tracked to Xander. Calculating. “Hmm.”
Niklas’s eyes narrowed and he tensed. “If you even think about double-crossing me—”
“I was just making an interesting observation.”
Niklas didn’t believe him for a minute.
Gusion smiled. Cold. Satisfied. “I’ll let them go.”
“Xander?” Niklas called over his shoulder.
A long pause. A grudging reply. “Truth.”
“And you’ll just accept my word that I’ll stay?”
“Oh, yes. After all, honor is what you’re all about now, isn’t it?”
Niklas didn’t believe t
hat for a minute either. There was more to it than that. Gusion had to have something up his sleeve. But what? He smiled, tracing a finger over the curve of Carly’s bruised, bloodied shoulder. Everything inside Niklas went taut with the need to maim and kill.
“After all, I got to her once,” Gusion gloated. “I can get to her again. And the next time, she won’t be in quite such pristine shape when I’m done with her.”
“Get your hands off her,” Niklas snarled.
Gusion tsked in dramatic disapproval. “Do we have a deal?”
“Deal,” Niklas spat.
“No!” Carly sobbed, struggling to sit up again. Gasping, she clutched her ribs and fell back against the granite. “Please, Niklas,” she wheezed. “Please, no—”
“The others will agree to the deal as well. Once I let her up, you will bow before me, willingly place your neck beneath my blade. And the others will leave.”
When silence fell in the room, Niklas glared over his shoulder. “Agree, damn it,” he ordered, desperate. She was in such pain. Couldn’t they see how badly she was hurt? Why did they hesitate? If only he could hold her one last time. If only he could tell her what was in his heart.
Could Gusion see the way his hands shook?
Mikhail, cold and stoic, snapped, “Agreed.”
“Dude, there has to be another way.”
“Don’t do it, Sebastian,” Carly begged. “Don’t let Niklas do this—”
“There isn’t any other way,” Niklas argued, talking over her. When no reply was immediately forthcoming, he spared a glare over his shoulder. “Damn it, Sebastian.”
“I don’t like this, Seer.” Fury boiled in Sebastian’s black eyes. “Son of a—”
“Vengeance!”
“Agreed,” Sebastian snarled.
“Gideon?”
Silence.
Frustrated, he glowered. “Gideon!”
But Gideon wasn’t looking at him. He was staring at Carly. His expression torn. It was then that Niklas realized how close they had become. Not intimately, as lovers were. But they shared a depth of feeling, true friendship.
On the slab, Carly shook her head despite the proximity of the blade, silently pleading with soulful, tear-filled eyes. “No, Gideon. Please, no,” she whispered.
