by A
That was totally unlike Kevin and I flicked a glance at Helen. She scowled and nodded.
Yeah, we were going to do this. Shit.
―Fine, then.‖ I yanked open the door and Helen sprayed him.
It wasn‘t an impostor. Maybe we‘d have been better off if it was.
I heard a soft pffut of sound, barely audible over the sound of the water hitting Kevin. Baker
staggered back, slapping at her neck. Her gun arm rose but too slow. Kevin slapped it away as
he hit the door with all his strength and weight.
Crap. Kevin had been turned. Or was he ever on our side? He‘d left me a note after Vicki
died that said he‘d ―be back for me.‖ Was I one of his ―hard targets‖? As a sleeper agent, he
could keep tabs on me and now he was going to kill me. I couldn‘t decide whether I was more
angry or hurt that he was doing this. Probably an equal mix of both.
I pressed on the door with everything I had.
I‘d thought I was strong, but I was not as strong as a big, motivated werewolf. He shoved
the door back like it was nothing. I dived out of the way, throwing myself between the bed and
the window, and firing as I went.
I hit him. Square in the chest and hard enough to send him back a pace. But the bullet didn‘t
do more than piss him off. He had to be wearing a Kevlar vest.
The ghost in the room tried to help. Everything that wasn‘t held down flew at Kevin‘s face.
He batted it all away as I scrambled to my feet and turned to flee out the hotel window.
I‘d climbed onto the heater/AC unit when he grabbed me by the leg and threw me onto the
glass-strewn carpet. I tried to turn my gun on him, but he had my hand in an instant. My God,
the strength of him. He pinned me with his body and his arms and there wasn‘t a damned thing
I could do about it. God knows I tried, squirming, fighting, and screaming for all I was worth. I
bit him with the fangs, but he healed almost before I could pull them out. I was careful not to
swallow, though I wanted to.
But nothing made any difference. I struggled helplessly as Warren, the man I trusted more
than anyone else—even more than Bruno—strode into the room. He pulled a dart gun from his
pocket and shot me. The same way he‘d shot Baker.
Damn.
I couldn‘t move. I tried. My body simply wouldn‘t respond. I could feel my skin resting
against smooth leather upholstery, could feel the movement of a car, but I couldn‘t even lift an
eyelid. I panicked then, because even though the adrenaline rushing through my system made
my heart race until I could hear my pulse pound like a kettledrum in my ears, my body
remained sullenly unresponsive.
―Please don‘t struggle. You‘ll only hurt yourself.‖ Warren‘s voice was a disembodied and
slightly mechanical whisper in my left ear. ―I combined a curse with the drug in the dart. You
won‘t be able to move a single voluntary muscle until Kevin says the word that releases you.‖
I felt a wave of pure unadulterated rage fueled by the pain of complete betrayal. These were
two of the people I held dearest in the world. I would have given my life to defend them and
they do this?
Warren‘s voice sounded in my ear again. Now that I thought about it, I could feel the
headset attached to my ear. ―I‘m so sorry, Celia. I can only imagine how angry you are right
now. But we had no choice. Irene contacted Kevin through his employer. She swore she would
feed Emma, body and soul, to the demon unless we turned you over to her.‖ He paused. ―I
can‘t let that happen. I can‘t.‖ He sighed. ―But I won‘t turn you over to that fate, either. So
we‘ve arranged a rescue.‖
My mouth wasn‘t working thanks to the curse. But I was thinking some pretty choice things
about Warren, his son, and the fact that they hadn‘t seen fit to include me in the planning. Did
they think I wouldn‘t have helped save Emma? Did they really believe I‘d let her not only die
but also be tortured to death and for freaking eternity? Because if that‘s what they thought,
they didn‘t know me at all.
―They‘re using magic to watch us, so Kevin doesn‘t dare let on you‘re conscious. When the
car stops, he‘ll unstrap you from the seat and take off the Bluetooth. There isn‘t much time, so
you have to listen carefully.‖
It was a simple plan. They had betrayed me, drugged me, and stuffed me in my own car. I
was now being delivered, like a sacrificial lamb, to a warehouse on the desert edge of Santa
Maria. Eirene would be waiting there, with the demon and about half a dozen mercenaries.
Warren didn‘t say how he knew about the mercenaries. My guess was that he had hired a
clairvoyant—or maybe some of Kevin‘s coworkers had done manual surveillance. I‘d once
met one who had the ability to practically vanish—a more extreme version of the illusion that
Bruno and Ivan had used. However they‘d managed it, Warren was certain of the number and
was confident in their abilities.
I was the bait. Kevin would bring me in for the exchange and get back Emma. At which
point the nice folks at ―the firm‖ would swoop in. Under the cover of the resulting chaos, I
would escape and get Emma the hell out of there. Kevin was bringing me in the Miata so that I
would have a getaway car.
It was a desperate plan, with every chance of failure. Still, it had the advantage of being
simple, elegant, with success mostly dependent upon superior firepower. Of course I wasn‘t
getting any firepower. The assumption was that we‘d all be searched when they brought me in,
so I was weaponless.
Can I say how much I thought that sucked?
―What the fuck?‖ Kevin didn‘t bother to keep the frustration and rage from his voice. The
car began to slow. Terrific. We hadn‘t even gotten out of the car yet and something was going
wrong with the plan.
I felt the car come to a halt and heard the whir of the window going down.
The man‘s voice was a Darth Vader imitation. He was using a voice synthesizer so he
couldn‘t be recognized. That meant it was either someone I knew or someone Kevin did. ―Cut
the engine and step out of the car.‖
―Hello, gentlemen. What‘s up?‖ Kevin was trying to keep cool, but I could sense his
emotions. He was lividly angry and scared. I didn‘t like it. He was the person everybody else
feared. After a second or two of silence he turned off the car, apparently instructed by hand
motions. He spoke one more sentence before the door handle jiggled from the outside: ―What‘s
the problem?‖
A wave of power hit me like a sledgehammer as soon as the word ―problem‖ left his mouth.
The magic holding me back was released so suddenly it was all I could do not to give the game
away by gasping or opening my eyes.
The Darth Vader voice spoke again: ―Out. Get out. Now.‖
I heard the car door open, felt it shift as Kevin climbed out. I wanted so badly to move, to do
something. But my one advantage right now was the fact that they thought I was unconscious. I
had to bide my time and wait for the right moment. The truth was that I wasn‘t positive I could
move yet. My hands and feet were bound. My seat belt was on. And the drugs hadn‘t worked
their way out of my system.
Warren‘s voice in my ear, sounding afraid: ―Celia. What‘s happening? I heard Kevin r
elease
you. What‘s wrong?‖
I cracked open my eyes a bare slit. An armed guard was watching me through the window.
So I didn‘t dare answer. Not out loud at any rate.
―Hands against the car.‖ I felt the car shift as Kevin put his weight on his hands against the
hood. ―Feet spread and back.‖ They were frisking him and the search was apparently pretty
damn fruitful.
Warren. I still wasn‘t very good at talking mind-to-mind, but I‘d learned enough during my
brief stay with the sirens to manage it. I tried to picture El Jefe‘s face, tried to think of my
words being written on paper and stuffed in his ear canal. I just hoped Eirene wasn‘t listening,
or things were going to go even further south than they already had. They had a roadblock set
up. They’re frisking Kevin now. I’m faking still being unconscious.
―Do you know where you are?‖ Warren‘s voice was an urgent hiss. Yay, I got through.
Faking unconsciousness, eyes closed. Even mentally it sounded bitchy. Then again, I wasn‘t
precisely the happiest camper at the moment.
―Celia, we have reinforcements, but they‘re outside the warehouse. I have to know where to
send them.‖
I was deciding how best to go about it when I heard the first male voice give another order.
―Check the girl.‖
Hang up Warren, now.
The door next to me opened. If I could‘ve moved I might have used the advantage of
surprise to fight. There were obviously problems with that. First, they were armed, I wasn‘t.
Neither was Kevin. And while I might want to kill him, I didn‘t want them to do it. Too, even
if I got away, the same basic problem remained. They had Emma. Our best chance at getting
her back was to stick with Warren and Kevin‘s plan. Warren, have them use magic to trace us.
I couldn‘t move, at least not well enough to fight. Warren‘s curse might have lifted, but the
drugs hadn‘t worn off. I let my eyes fly open, but that was the most I could manage. I had no
choice but to sit there, utterly limp, as a strange man ran his hands all over my body. I fought
down a wave of rage and panic. I tried to scream, I couldn‘t help it. Too many memories. But
all that came out was a whistling squeak that wouldn‘t even carry outside the car. At least this
wasn‘t personal—some sadistic treasure hunter getting his jollies. It was just business. He was
thorough, too, even to the point of running his fingers through my hair checking to make sure
nothing had been hidden in it. He found the earpiece.
―She‘s clean. She was wearing a phone, but the line is dead and she can‘t talk anyway.‖
―You sure?‖
―She tried to scream when I searched her.‖
―Bound?‖
―Duct tape, hands and feet. Can‘t tell whether it‘s spelled or not.‖
―Hands in front or behind the back?‖
―In front.‖ My guy sounded disgusted by that. Apparently he was a pro and knew better.
There are so many things you can do, even bound, if your hands are in front of you, and there‘s
a much better chance of escape.
Kevin‘s voice came next, calm and clear. ―There was no point in hurting her. It was just a
precaution in case the drugs wore off more quickly than they should. Her metabolism is pretty
weird. Besides,‖ he continued, ―you know as well as I do that it‘s hard to get the body to sit
right in the car seat with the arms behind the back. I didn‘t want to get pulled over by the
cops.‖
The grunt from the man next to me might have been an acknowledgment. It couldn‘t have
been exertion from lifting me out of the car. I‘m not that heavy.
He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. My head hung down nearly to his waist.
The drugs were wearing off, but I had a horrible case of cottonmouth and my head was
throbbing in time with each of his steps, to the point where I was in real danger of tossing my
cookies. That would be bad with tape over my mouth. It would be easy to choke to death. Of
course, I was facedown, so likely all that would happen is that the vomit would pool my
sinuses and run out my nose.
Ick.
I tried to get my bearings with no success. Two men appeared from a hiding place next to
the road, which was blocked by a pair of black SUVs. The first climbed into the Miata and
took off, with the SUVs trailing it. The second man strolled over to our group.
―Should‘ve put her in the trunk.‖
―Have you seen what passes for the trunk of a Miata? No way she‘d fit.‖ Kevin sounded
disgusted. A couple of the men laughed shortly.
There were six of them. They cuffed Kevin, using handcuffs with hefty enough spells that I
could feel the magic from ten feet away. Even so, they made sure that four men surrounded
him, staying out of reach, weapons at the ready. A werewolf is no laughing matter. The man
carrying me stayed well back and behind him. The man from the road, with his very
businesslike semiauto, followed.
The scrub brush that lined both sides of the road gave way to loose rock, sand, and cactus.
We were climbing. The man carrying me was breathing hard but didn‘t say anything. Then
again, neither did anybody else. The whole march was eerily silent; even the creatures native
to this place had gone still at our approach. I was thinking hard, trying to figure out who to call
for help and what landmarks to give them. There weren‘t any. Desert covers a lot of territory in
Southern California. We were far enough away from the bulk of the city that light pollution
was minimal but not so far out that there weren‘t still a few warehouses.
There was a definite chill to the breeze and the sky overhead was a rich indigo blue. I could
see more stars than you ever catch sight of in town. I tried to find the North Star to orient
myself, but it was too much effort to move my head and neck even that much. Which meant I
had no freaking idea where I was. None.
Kevin, where are we?
I spoke in his mind. But it was Eirene who answered me, just before I felt a wall of power
cut us off from outside help. It locked us down so that no magic, not even telepathy, would be
able to penetrate.
The words she spoke raised every hair on my body: A place where no one will hear you
scream.
25
Wow, that was nicely melodramatic. Had she been watching old movies or was that just her
natural bent?
Sarcasm isn’t going to save you.
No. But it’ll keep me occupied while I ponder ways of kicking your ass. Hollow bragging in
the face of disaster? Quite possibly. Then again, maybe not. Because I might be unarmed and
physically helpless, but I wasn‘t completely out of options.
The guy carrying me was really struggling now. It wasn‘t so much the uneven ground as the
sand combined with loose rocks. Made getting stable footing a bitch, which put more strain on
the muscles. One of the reasons I run on the soft part of the beach is that the give in the sand
works your legs harder than a firm surface does.
―Is there a problem, Barnes?‖
―Nah, I‘ve got it. At least she isn‘t struggling. What‘d you give her anyway?‖
Kevin answered cheerfully, ―Combination of drugs and a curse. She can be hell on wheels
when she‘s pissed and I didn‘t want to deal
with it.‖
If we both got out of this mess alive, he sure as hell would be dealing with it. Thinking about
going toe-to-toe with him gave me another little bit of incentive. I don‘t trust people, but I‘d
trusted him. My mistake. One I wouldn‘t be making again.
We stopped at the top of a rocky ridge. A narrow trail snaked down the steep incline to a
narrow valley. I twisted a little and craned my neck to get as much of a look around as I could.
I saw a trio of tents in a semicircle, their entrances facing a large campfire that had been
surrounded by a stone ring, just like they taught us to do in Girl Scouts. My eyes shifted into
vampire hyperfocus and I could see Emma‘s body, curled in a fetal position on the ground.
Eirene was sitting on a director‘s chair next to Emma‘s head, holding a stick into the fire.
She was roasting marshmallows. Roasting marshmallows! You have got to be fucking kidding
me.
Her voice in my head was rich with amusement: I like toasted marshmallows. And it gave
me something to do while I waited.
What have you done to Emma?
Don’t take that tone with me, Celia. You’re not a princess here. Just a victim.
I’m not really a princess anywhere. And I’m nobody’s victim.
We’ll see about that. She looked up at us and her smile was chilling. Setting aside the
roasting stick, she stood. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a ceramic disk about the size
of a quarter. There was a sigil on it.
My blood ran cold at the sight and I fought down a wave of nausea. A summoning disk. No
doubt made for the sole purpose of bringing forth a certain major demon.
You‘d think I‘d be used to the idea. After all, I‘d been facing the demonic more than most
militant priests lately. But it‘s just not something you get used to. Particularly not when you
know for a fact that said demon has been making specific plans just for you.
My mouth went dry and I fought not to show just how terrified that little disk made me.
Fought and failed. Because Eirene was a telepath. She could hear the fear in my mind. To my
shock, the look of pure anticipatory evil it brought to her face wasn‘t entirely hers.
The demon. She hadn‘t summoned him yet, but the connection between them had reached a
point where soon, very soon, she wouldn‘t need to. She would be his permanent open door to
