“You mean to tell me there are more powerful demons like Rathe?”
Lilly nodded. “One for every archangel.”
Colt swore under his breath. The stakes of keeping the Gates of Nyx closed were far higher than he’d ever imagined.
“If we can skirt around the edge of the pit, we might be able to make it through over there, without them noticing us,” Lilly said as she pointed to a dark shaft opening across the cavern.
At this point Colt was game for just about any plan that got them the hell out of the Dark Rim in one piece. “Fine, we’ll try it your way.”
They wove along the edge of the pit, hiding behind rock outcroppings and mining cars. Lilly’s footsteps made a clinking sound as she stumbled over a pile of rusted iron chain.
Colt put his index finger to her lips, warning her to be quiet.
Lilly silently mouthed back the word “sorry.”
Carefully, and as quietly as possible, Colt gathered up a good length of the chain, wrapping around his fist. There was no telling when it might come in useful with this many ghosts around. Iron and salt were about the only thing useful in dispersing them temporarily, and Marley’s bullets wouldn’t spray the salt when fired like a hand-packed shotgun round would.
“Just stay quiet and stick with me,” he said.
They were within twenty feet of their exit when a long wolf whistle of appreciation pierced the air. Suddenly, everything grew very quiet. Hell’s bells.
Colt’s gaze darted to find every ghost miner starting in their direction. Damn. He should have known. Lilly was a succubus. There was no way something that shouted pure sex wasn’t going to catch the attention of a bunch of miners who’d been working away for God knew how long without feminine company. And that had been before they’d died.
“Going unnoticed was a good idea. But I don’t think it worked,” he ground out.
From the crowd of miners came two ghosts, one thin and angular and the other stout and wide with a pickaxe resting on his thick shoulder. They stepped deliberately toward him and Lilly, blocking the way out.
“Let us pass,” Colt said. He rested the heel of his hand on the butt of his holstered revolver and let the chain around his left hand slip a few links so it rattled ominously.
“You can pass,” the ghost answered, then licked his thick, fleshy gray lips as his pale hungry eyes shifted to Lilly.
“But not the lady,” the thinner ghost said. His gap-toothed grin grew wider as his long hands flexed.
“You’re ghosts! She’s not any good to you.”
The fatter one’s eyes narrowed greedily. “Just ’cause we’re dead don’t mean we forgot how it works.” The telltale bulge in his britches set a firestorm off inside Colt.
They weren’t going to touch Lilly. Period. “Last chance. Move it or I’ll do it for you,” he growled.
The fat ghost came barreling down on him, his pickaxe held high. Colt moved on instinct. He swung the length of iron chain out like a whip, lashing straight through the miner, dissipating him into grayish mist. The axe fell with a clatter to the ground. The thin one beelined it straight for Lilly.
She held out her hands, her delicate brows pinched with concentration, and he bounced back as if he’d hit an invisible wall. The ghostly miners amassed, hundreds of them now shoulder to shoulder, pressing in on him and Lilly.
“Duck!” Colt let a few more links slip and sent the chain spinning in a dizzying circle over his head, like a metal lasso. Every ghost that connected with the chain vanished into a puff of grayish dust. Keeping the momentum going, he reached down and grabbed her and they started inching forward toward their exit, back to back. His shoulder was burning from the weight and effort of keeping the chain moving.
“Watch out!” Lilly yelled. Colt’s arm jerked back hard, nearly pulling his arm from the socket as the chain wrapped around the very real shovel hoisted by a ghost behind him. Colt whipped around, the chain slipping from his damp grip, but he kept the shovel from cleaving Lilly’s skull.
Lilly blasted back four ghosts. Her skin glittered with beads of perspiration and she was breathing hard. The fight was beginning to wear her down. They were outnumbered by hundreds to one.
Colt racked his brain. “You said you can materialize objects.”
“Yes,” Lilly said, then grunted as she sent the ghosts coming at her bowling end over end.
“I need a bag of salt. Now.”
Lilly held out both hands and closed her eyes. A ten-pound burlap bag of salt appeared at Colt’s feet. He dug his fingers into the fabric and ripped the bag open. “Stand behind me,” he ordered, knowing the salt would burn her as a demon, just as it would dispel the ghosts.
He threw the salt in a wide arc, the ghosts screaming as they vaporized. The silence afterward was only punctuated by the hiss of steam from the turbines below and their harsh, rapid breathing.
“We’ve got to get out of here now. Salt will only get rid of them for a little while. They’ll be back, and we don’t have time to find and then burn and salt their remains.”
“I can’t walk over the salt,” Lilly murmured, looking at the white sparkling crystals scattered all over the floor.
Colt didn’t argue. He scooped Lilly up into his arms and marched right over the salt, getting them out of the cavern as quickly as he could before the angry ghosts returned.
Chapter 11
It took them four hours of muddling around in the dark with a coil illuminator that faded in and out and required extra shaking, but they escaped the Dark Rim Mine without incident and rode Tempus back to Bodie.
Colt held fast to Lilly’s hand as he kicked open the door to the Bodie jail. Raw anger throbbed behind his eyes. After all they’d been through, Winn was nothing but a damn coward hiding behind a badge and a desk. For all Colt knew he’d probably destroyed or hidden his pa’s pages elsewhere. Well, now was the time for him to ’fess up.
The deep furrows over Winn’s face smoothed out and his eyes clouded over with confusion as he took in their ragged condition. “What happened?”
“We found the damn door. We got in. We got the wooden box open. There was nothin’ in it! Nothin’ but this scrap of paper.” Colt threw the yellowed bit of paper on his desk. “And we nearly got killed for our troubles.”
Winn grasped it, unfolding the aged brittle parchment with care. His eyes narrowed as he twisted the paper first one direction, then the other, obviously trying to make sense of it, same as Colt had. “It’s in code.”
“No shit, Winn. What’d you do with Pa’s part of the Book?”
Winn’s gaze lifted from the page, boring deep into Colt. “I didn’t do a damn thing with that Book. Pa just said to keep watch over the thing. I haven’t seen it since he hid it down deep in that mine when we were kids.”
Unspoken hostility eddied in the air between the Jackson brothers, making it crackle. “You’re tellin’ me somebody else got to it first?”
Winn’s gaze shifted, landing squarely on Lilly. “Not someone, something.”
Colt shifted his stance, stepping slightly in front of her. He’d be damned if he’d let Winn harm her now, especially since there was no reason to blame her. “She’s been with me the whole time.”
“This the demon you summoned to help you out?”
Colt gave one quick nod.
Winn huffed out a disgruntled sigh, his eyes coolly assessing Lilly from head to toe in a way that made Colt hot under the collar. He was mad as a wet hornet at Winn, but this was something that stung differently and burned hotter. Just the thought of anyone harming a pretty, burnished hair on her head made him seethe.
“You sure know how to pick ’em, I give you that,” Winn muttered.
“Point is, she don’t know any more about this code or the missing location of the Book than we do.”
Winn picked up the scrap again, turning the page sideways, then upside down. “It’s written in a circular fashion. Starts at the center like a spiral and coils outward.”
“Like a spring.” Lilly’s voice snapped both men to look at her. “It’s like a lock, and you’re holding the key to the spring in the lock.”
“Huh,” Winn said, the one word conveying a host of unspoken I-don’t-give-a-damn-what-you-think messages loud and clear.
“So what do you think it says?” Colt pressed, the impatience giving his voice a raw edge.
“Have no clue. You’re gonna have to have Marley pick this one apart.”
“He’s not a code-breaker.”
“He’s not, but Balmora is.”
Colt released his hold on Lilly and pushed his Stetson up at the brim with his index finger. “Balmora?” He’d never heard Marley mention that name before.
“Some fancy-pants contraption he’s been building for the British government.” That explained it. Marley rarely talked about an experiment still in the development stages, especially when he was working on it for a paying client.
Colt leaned in, planting both fists firm on the scarred expanse of Winn’s desk. “Come with us. If they’ve found Pa’s Book and moved it, there’s no telling how fast this is gonna unravel.”
Winn shook his head, spreading his hands wide on the surface of his desk. “Can’t. Got an important foreign dignitary showing up this evening.”
Colt shoved away from the desk. “Can’t be bothered with the supernatural when you’ve got such important matters to tend to, eh?”
“Don’t start with me, boy. I was hunting before you were walking.”
“Which is exactly why we need you to come along.”
“He’s right. Rathe is planning something,” Lilly said.
Winn glared at her. “And I’m supposed to trust you?”
Colt stiffened, his skin heating. He’d had the exact same feeling toward Lilly at first, but she’d more than proven herself trustworthy down in those caverns. “We’ve got a deal. She’s going to help me get the Book.”
Winn’s glare shifted to his little brother. “Dammit. Didn’t I tell you not to give your soul for that Book?”
“I didn’t. She wants our help.”
Winn rolled his eyes and gave his head a small shake. “They all say that, brother.”
“She wants to get away from Rathe. She wants to return to being human again.”
Winn glanced at Lilly, skepticism etched in every worn line of his face. “Is that true?”
Lilly stepped around Colt. While the brothers looked awfully similar, there were distinct differences. They shared the same thick, nearly black hair and stunning blue eyes, but where Colt’s were the dark, fathomless blue of the ocean, his brother’s were a shade lighter. The effect was chilling.
She swallowed down hard on the lump in her throat. “No one has ever tried it before, but the way I see it, if anyone could find a way to break Rathe’s hold on my soul, it would be the Chosen.”
Colt grunted and scraped his scuffed brown boot over the gritty wooden floor. “Told you before, Lilly. We’re not the Chosen.”
Her momentary shock at him using her given name was overcome by her indignation. She balled up her fists. “You don’t think you are. Big difference. Doesn’t mean you’re not.”
“Either way, don’t matter,” Winn said, clasping his hands over the back of his head. “You two need to get to Marley on the double. I’ll see what I can do about tapping into a lead on the second part of the Book for you, but I’m not going on any fool’s errand to fetch it back.”
“You know we’re going to need more than just Pa’s part of the Book, don’t you?”
Winn snorted. “Now she’s really got you addled, boy. They were never meant to be brought together. That’s why the Legion separated them in the first place. It’s too damn dangerous.”
Colt shook his head slowly. “That’s where you’re wrong. If what I think is happening is true, then we need to get those other pieces. Pa told me this might happen.” That got Winn’s attention.
“We don’t even know where the two other thirds of the Book are located.”
“A lead is all we need.”
Winn stared at him long and hard. Colt knew the moment Winn realized there was no changing the course that had already been set. He might not want to hunt, but he could help find the missing pieces of the Book of Legend.
“If I find anything, I’ll send word through Marley,” Winn said simply.
Colt didn’t need more than that. Winn might not be going with them to discover the secrets in the code, but he was still willing to back him up, even if it meant going along in a scheme to bring the pieces of the Book back together.
Chapter 12
Overhead the noon sun gleamed a brilliant white in a cloudless field of blue. The air above the rocks and parched earth shimmered in the heat, making the cactus in Marley’s front forty acres appear to wriggle.
As they approached Marley’s door, Colt stiffened. In a short time he’d grown so accustomed to Lilly’s presence he hadn’t considered what Marley’s reaction might be to her in his home. Lilly had been in step behind him right up to the front door. He glanced at her over his shoulder. “You’d better wait here.”
“Why?”
“Marley Turlock is many things, but tolerant of supernaturals is not one of them.”
Lilly crossed her arms and speared him with an incredulous look. The lace framing her neckline was wilted and dirty from their trip to the mine, and her hemline ragged and torn, but that didn’t dampen her appeal one whit. Her skin was still flawless cream, her curls shiny, as if the dirt and grime had never touched her. She was still just as enticing, still every inch a succubus. “Surely he can make an exception.”
“Trust me. I know Marley. This’ll all go a lot faster if I don’t get him all riled up.”
She blew at an errant red curl that had dipped down over her forehead, making her lips pucker for an instant. Lust hit him in a fevered rush. Colt wanted to do much more than merely kiss her. Her red curls, a cascade of silken fire, begged for his touch. A waft of sweet roses, delicate yet at the same time seductive tickled his nose, enticing him to nuzzle along her neck. She was seduction, plain and simple, and Marley would shoot her on sight.
“Fine. But don’t expect me to wait all afternoon,” she muttered.
“You’ve got a better place to go?”
Lilly squinted up at the unbearable midday sun beating relentlessly down on them. Her skin seemed to glitter in the sunlight, but Colt knew from his own state it was perspiration. “No, but it’s hot as hell out here.”
“You would know.”
“So just how long should this take?”
Colt shrugged. “I don’t even know what this Balmora thing is, so it’ll take as long as it takes. Just sit down on the other side of that wall in the shade and I’ll be back out as soon as possible.”
She didn’t look happy, but she did as she was told. Colt waited until she was around the corner and out of sight before he rapped on Marley’s door.
No one answered. He tried again. This time he heard shuffling, a thump, and a muffled curse from inside. Marley opened the door, still rubbing his shin, his goggles firmly snapped into place over his face, making him look like a white cotton-tufted bug with large brown eyes.
“Colt!” He broke into a delighted smile and gestured Colt inside. “Come in. Come in, old chap. Good to see you. I was a bit worried if you’d return the last time I saw you. Obviously you survived the run-in with Winchester.”
“Yeah. Not the touching family moment one hoped for, but at least we didn’t exchange lead,” Colt said as he stepped inside the shaded, cool interior of Marley’s home.
Marley shut the door behind them. “And the item you were seeking?” He blinked expectantly, rubbing his hands together with anticipation.
Colt scowled. “That’s why I’m here. Winn says you got some special decoder machine you’ve been designing for the Queen.”
Marley’s eyes glittered. “Yes. Balmora. She’s even better than Tempus, if I do say so myself. The
gear ratios necessary for a true analytical engine required extensive redevelopment of the—”
Colt put his hand up, stopping Marley’s inevitable long-winded lecture on things he didn’t comprehend, nor had any wish to. As long as it worked, that was all that mattered. He pulled the small scrap of paper from his leather vest pocket and held it out. “Can Balmora decode this?”
Marley took the scrap of paper and peered with hugely magnified eyes at it. “Far trickier than anything I’ve tested her with so far.”
“Her?”
Marley grinned widely, making his eyes seem even larger, if that were indeed possible. “If you’re going to build something, why not do it with style?”
“Her?” Colt repeated. “Marley, you been working alone too long.”
Marley pulled his goggles to the top of his head and waved his hand as if to displace Colt’s suggestion as he turned and started navigating the teetering piles of stuff piled up around his home. Dust mites danced in a beam of sunlight coming in through the gap between a pair of heavily tasseled, forest green brocade curtains. An entire wall of all different sorts of clocks all shifted to noon and began to chime. The resulting tumult was so loud and discordant that Colt covered his ears.
“Has nothing to do with it, old chap. Follow me,” Marley called out over the cacophony of chiming clocks.
“Sure it don’t,” Colt said under his breath. He followed Marley through the narrow hallway past stacks of books and canning jars full of gears and springs toward a back room he’d never been to before.
The door itself was black wrought iron, complete with a spinning combination lock on the front, like a bank vault. Marley muttered a series of numbers and directions to himself as he turned the tumblers. Thunk. Thip. Thunk, thunk. The bolts in the door shifted, allowing Marley to heft the heavy door open. He used both hands and had to put his weight into it. Colt knew he wouldn’t accept his help, and leaned a shoulder against a nearby wall as the heavy door opened in one-inch increments.
The Hunter Page 12
