by Amy Sumida
“Why is that?” I interrupted. “How did Varcan win such loyalty?”
“He was a captain in King Lucifer's army, and his men were his soldiers. Balidet was his sergeant.” Astar shook his head. “Varcan used his influence to corrupt them and coerce them into breaking the laws. Now, they will be punished because of him.”
“We all choose who we give our loyalty to,” Ainsley said gravely. “If we're wise, we choose someone who deserves it.” His gaze went to me, and he inclined his head respectfully.
“Yeah, and those fuckers are a bunch of dumb-asses,” Nassar said.
A chuckle made its way around the room.
“Do not underestimate them!” Astaroth snapped, cutting off the laughter. “These men are brutal and although their loyalty is misplaced, it's steadfast. They will kill any of you for their captain. In a fucking heartbeat. And they won't spare a single second feeling guilty about it. Those of you with fire magic, shelve it. Use anything but. And I recommend head shots if you're using physical weapons.” He nodded toward the extinguishers. “Kill shots. Do not waste precious time on wounding them. And if you see that dagger, run.” His expression shifted to sardonic. “I'm not saving any more of you. I have a one-fairy limit.”
Kill started to say, “She's not just a fairy, she's—”
“Not the time, Killian,” I cut him off with a shake of my head.
“I spoke with Councilman Timberstride last night,” Nightblade said as Killian chuckled. “We have the Councils' approval to hunt and extinguish as we see fit. This is now a take-no-prisoners mission.”
The room went silent and grim with that. It made things easier but also darker. Demons. We were up against Demons. And we just received an extinguishment order on Varcan's whole team.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Astaroth and his group laleked to the location. We couldn't risk them being seen by Varcan and it was just easier anyway. I headed straight to the site with my husbands, Conri, Gradh, and Felix in an extinguisher SUV. This time, I drove. Everyone else, including Raza's and Tiernan's guards, headed in the direction of the other properties. They'd turn around and head back towards us once they were certain they weren't being followed.
“We've got a tail,” Killian, in the passenger seat, announced.
“How did we not notice them tailing us before?” I muttered.
“We weren't looking.” Kill grimaced. “That's what happens when you think you're the hunter.”
“Subtly keep an eye on them through your side mirror, Kill,” I said. “Everyone else keep facing forward.”
“I'm still a Lord of the Wild Hunt, I don't care what anyone says,” Tiernan grumbled. “I know about hunting, Seren.”
“I was saying it to everyone else, T,” I used one of the nicknames he hated just to mess with him, and he snorted, making it sound elegant.
As we neared the site, the other teams started reporting that they were doubling back.
“Someone call Astar and check on his team's location,” I said as I took a turn.
“I will,” Raza declared as he pulled out his scry phone. He was in his human guise with one exception—claws extended from his hands. “Astaroth, Lord of Hell,” he called out.
“Damn, that just sounds wrong,” Killian muttered. “Consorting with Demons.” He shook his head. “Are we sure we can trust them?”
“Yes,” I said immediately.
“Oh. Right. You saw him.” Kill made an annoyed face.
“King Raza,” Astar's voice came through Raza's scry phone.
“We are approaching the location,” Raza informed him.
“My sayadi and I are here. Is Varcan following you?”
“Yes. Either him or one of his lackeys.”
“Good. Lead them to the warehouse; we'll be waiting.”
I pulled into a parking spot in front of the building. The lot was empty, and the building looked utterly abandoned. One-story, but wide, it had a length of picture windows going down the front wall, all covered in newspaper.
“We're here now,” Raza said to Astar, then flattened his pointer finger and lifted his claw high so he could swipe the crystal screen. With a snap, he closed the leather flap over the phone and slid it into his jacket.
“Where's our tail?” I asked Killian.
“They pulled over on the street, a block back.” Kill got out and flipped his leather hood up, over his auburn hair.
“All teams, what's your twenty?” I demanded through the communication unit hooked over my ear.
A chorus of “Here,” came through.
“Going in,” I said in response. I didn't have to tell them to wait until Varcan and his minions arrived and then follow them in; everyone knew the plan.
Killian hadn't bothered with an overcoat, none of us had since we'd be going straight into the building and probably into a fight. I didn't even have a jacket, just my fighting gear—long-sleeved shirt, kevlar vest, pocketed pants, and boots, all in black. My father's company, Gentry Technologies, had been trying to develop an enchanted fabric for hunters and extinguishers to use for their gear, but the material wouldn't hold the magic longer than a few minutes. So, there was nothing magical about the gear. I didn't have a helmet on, that would have warned off Varcan, but I had my hair pulled back in a long, dark braid, tucked down the back of my vest. I needed my hair out of the way but didn't want to give my opponents something to grab.
We hurried to the front door, off to the left corner instead of in the center. I had Drostan's keys and the code to the alarm system ready. I got the heavy, wood door open first, then went to the security panel to enter the code as the others came in behind me. Someone turned on the lights as I pressed buttons. The urgent beeping of the security system stopped, and we took a look around. The front room extended the length of the building, large enough to park ten SUVs in lengthwise. Stained counters and abandoned wall racks implied that the space had been used as a storefront while the layer of dust on everything told me that store was long gone.
We headed further into the building, through a door in the far wall, not bothering to check the closets in the front room. I could sense that Demons were on the premises, but they were ahead of us, and they had to be Astar's sayadi. Varcan was somewhere behind us, a distant tickle on my back. I kept my awareness on that tickle as Killian led the way through a corridor of offices and back to the warehouse, turning on lights as he went.
We cleared the offices and stepped into the belly of the warehouse. Clearly, Varcan hadn't got around to using it yet. There was nothing on the cement floor but us, not even a balled-up newspaper. I stretched my neck and unsheathed my new Demon sword. I liked it better than my iron sword and it had the bonus of not bothering my husbands. Its sheath was a gift from Star, handed to me without ceremony just before he laleked away that morning. It was a simple design of black leather without adornment, but it fit the blade like a glove.
“They're coming in,” I said to my group and into the comm unit. “Everyone get ready.”
Astar and his sayadi were nowhere in sight, but I could feel them scattered around the warehouse. Star was just behind me and above, but I didn't glance up at the metal crossbeams to find him. Instead, I held my sword down, along my leg, hiding it, as my husbands and I pretended to be in the middle of a conversation.
Varcan and his minions came striding into the warehouse, not bothering with disguises or stealth.
“My love, I'm overjoyed by your survival!” Varcan declared as his men spread out to surround us.
“And I will be overjoyed by your death,” I snarled and lifted my sword.
Sayadi soldiers appeared around Varcan's group, swinging black swords at the Demon outlaws, keeping them engaged so they couldn't lalek away or even set a hakhil. Varcan's expression shifted into rage as he ran for me. Hunters and extinguishers rushed in from doorways at the front and back of the warehouse. Demons screamed as magic vibrated through the air and shook the ground.
Hail pelted the Demons h
ard enough to take chunks of flesh. Conri's howl broke bones, and Gradh's Froststrike froze boots to the floor, along with the feet inside them. Iron swords swung and blood flowed. But I only saw it out of the corner of my eye; I was focused on Varcan. His strength was shocking, Varcan bashed aside my husbands on his way to me, barely sparing them a glance. He got to me shockingly fast, but he didn't want to hurt me while I was intent on killing him. Varcan had to deflect my blows with sudden blasts of his hakhil, giving my husbands time to circle us.
“Is it my face?” Varcan asked in bafflement as my blade glanced off his golden dome. “I can change it for you.” He shifted into Tiernan. “How about this?”
“Fuck, yeah!” Killian exclaimed as he spun his two swords. “I've always wanted to kick Tiernan's ass.”
The real Tiernan rolled his eyes. “Better do it now, then. This is the only chance you'll have of besting me. Or at least, someone who looks like me.”
“I walked into that one,” Kill muttered as he swung. His blades sparked as they hit Varcan's magic bubble.
“I can be anyone you wish me to be, Seren. I can give you anything you want.” Varcan ignored my husbands as he casually drew the Sakeen.
The dagger glowed as soon as it was drawn, and my husbands backed away warily.
“Yeah? Raza can shift into anyone too, but I prefer his original form, whereas yours would get me arrested for statutory rape.”
Killian snickered. “Good one, babe.”
“Besides,” I went on, “I already have everything I want. All except for your death!” I swung at Varcan just as Astar appeared behind him and tore open his hakhil.
Varcan snarled and spun, avoiding my blow smoothly as he also avoided Astaroth. But Star followed with a graceful movement that looked more like dancing than fighting. He kicked Varcan's feet out from under him as he brought his sword down. Varcan rolled, and Star's blade shrieked like a bird of prey against the cement. With a terrible growl, Varcan sprouted wings and shot into the sky, brandishing the Sakeen before him. Astar grabbed Varcan's ankle and jerked him back down, smashing the other Demon onto the ground so hard that the cement cracked along with Varcan's nose. Varcan lifted the Devil's Dagger like a shield, but it didn't pose a threat to Astaroth, and they both knew it. Around us, Varcan's minions were falling.
“You saw her, didn't you?” Varcan asked Star maliciously. “You're fucked now, Astaroth. As lost as I am. A Lord of Hell brought to his knees.”
Star hesitated.
Embers burst in a burning cloud. Astar's sword sliced through them, but it was a second too late and hit the ground with a useless clang. Astar brought the sword back to his side and let it hang limply while his expression hardened. I couldn't read him at all now, the echoes of our connection were utterly gone. But anyone could see that the Lord of Hell was enraged.
Astaroth spun to survey the rest of the warehouse, taking in the bodies of six of Varcan's men—none of them Balidet. Several had managed to escape despite our greater numbers. But then, when you could vanish in the blink of an eye, retreating was easy.
Star let out a long breath and glanced at me. It was just a second, but that glance seemed to direct his anger at me. “Grab the bodies,” he said to his sayadi. Then, in a flash of embers, he was gone.
“That went well,” Killian said brightly as he sheathed his swords.
Chapter Forty-Nine
“St. Louis has had a spate of missing persons in the last three days,” the pretty blonde reported behind her shiny news desk. “People from all walks of life have disappeared off our streets in alarming numbers. The last count was eighty-three, and the St. Louis Police Department has suspended its policy on requiring a forty-eight-hour wait on filing a missing person's report. If you have a missing loved one, report it immediately.”
“He's taking them,” I muttered as I turned my back on the TV and went to the window.
The people around me made sounds of agreement, but no one spoke. We were all on edge.
It had been three days since the warehouse fight and it looked as if Varcan had been busy the entire time. That made one of us. My team had no leads other than a bunch of missing humans. We had searched every property Varcan purchased in Drostan's name and come up empty. At this point, we were just hanging out at Drostan's house, eating his food, and watching the snow melt as we hoped for something to happen. Even Astar had abandoned us, refusing to answer any of our scries. I guess he didn't like the way we'd handled things at the warehouse. Either that or Varcan's parting words had hit a nerve.
I kept replaying it in my mind. Seeing Varcan lying there, smirking at Star. “You saw her, didn't you? You're fucked now, Astaroth. As lost as I am. A Lord of Hell brought to his knees.” What did that mean? Was he talking about me? Had I done something wrong? How would I bring Astar to his knees? It couldn't be about me; I would never use my knowledge of Astar's weakness to hurt him, and he knew that. But Star had sure looked furious when he left the warehouse and that fury seemed to be directed at me. Was it the piece of his magic inside me? And what was I going to do if I started manifesting Demon abilities? I reached for my scry phone but then dropped my hand. I wasn't going to keep scrying him like a desperate teenager in love. If Astar decided to talk to us, he would scry. Or whatever they called it when he used his wrist band thingy. It probably had a weird name, one of those Demon words.
We had tried to lure Varcan out again, and I'd even driven around the city, searching for Demons randomly. We got nothing. We were dead in the water, and it was driving me bonkers.
“Maybe I should take another drive,” I muttered as I watched a chunk of snow slide off the balcony railing to explode upon impact when it hit the courtyard below.
“He's obviously planning something,” Killian said. “We just have to wait.”
“I hate waiting,” Extinguisher Lance Sloane grumbled. “Varcan's abducting people while we're sitting here twiddling our thumbs.”
“The Police are patrolling,” Wayne said. “As soon as they spot anything suspicious, we'll be alerted.”
“Yeah, but maybe we should be patrolling too,” Extinguisher John Teagan suggested.
“And be scattered across the city when we get a lead?” Lance shot back. “No, as annoying as it is, we sit tight.”
“Where is he keeping all those people?” I snarled. “I've looked through every new property on Drostan's list and there wasn't a hint of Demon at any of them.”
“He probably bought someplace new,” Daxon said. “Or he's squatting somewhere vacant. We'll find him. I've got the Underground fairies searching too. Varcan's sketch has been circulated all over St. Louis and beyond; someone will see him. He cannot hide from us forever.”
“Unless he's using another face,” I muttered. “I feel out of my league here. I'm a fairy queen. I've fought monsters and magic, even monsters with magic. But Demons? I don't know how to hunt Demons.”
“We know that fire doesn't hurt them,” Raza said calmly. “We know they can vanish in a second and protect themselves with an impenetrable barrier. But we also know that they bleed.” He grinned wickedly. “We know that they die. We will do just fine, mo shíorghrá.”
“Plus, you're a Demon-tracker now,” Killian reminded me. “And you've got a piece of Demon Lord magic inside you that will, hopefully, protect you from that fucking dagger. We're gonna get that bastard, Twilight. We just need to be patient.”
“I wish I could talk to Astaroth,” I snarled.
Heat swept up my body as embers rained down around me, and I felt the tingling rush of moving without moving. I didn't even hear my husbands shout for me as they must have; I was just gone. Then I gasped as I reformed in a dark room, the scent of blood wrinkling my nose. Firelight flickered across the stone walls and something dripped steadily. Terrified, I looked down at myself to take stock. I was whole, nothing missing. Except maybe myself from Drostan's house. I knew instantly what had happened. I had laleked. Astar's magic was awakening inside me, and it had listene
d to my request. It had taken me to him.
Astaroth was bent over a table before me, wearing a black dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up, a pair of tailored slacks, a slim belt, and shiny shoes. His corded forearms gleamed in the light of the nearby fireplace, and his profile was sharply beautiful. He looked like a businessman relaxing after work, but his hands were covered in something slick and dark. Something worrisome. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as my body came to the conclusion that something was very wrong before my brain did. Astar turned toward me, his expression going slack, then horrified, and I saw what laid on the table.
One of Varcan's men was stretched across the bare wood, arms and legs chained to the table legs. He was missing an ear, an eye, and several chunks of flesh—the wounds precise and square. Or cubic, rather. Blood pooled around him and dripped onto the stone floor. But the Demon didn't so much as whimper. He rolled his one eye toward me and stared at me defiantly.
