Demons of Desire (35 page)

“Did you come alone?”

I jumped, my heart racing. The whispered words seemed to come from nowhere. I hadn’t heard any footsteps besides my own, hadn’t seen any shadows in the dimly lit building.

I spread my arms. “No vampires, no witches, no demons, except for me.”

They were all outside, checking for spells and guarding against attack. I was still as tense as wire about to break. If Steve were pulling a complicated double–cross, I was wide open and vulnerable. Hopefully as a half–demon, whatever magic he’d use on me would only be half as effective.

The apprentice appeared from behind a brown container, walking toward me in silence.

“I was afraid to contact the vampires or the witches,” he said, eyes darting here and there. “I know where they’re conducting the ceremony. All of Crimson Moon will be there. I’ll tell you and let you know what wards they have in place.”

For a price, of course. “What do you want in return?”

“A guarantee of my safety.”

Of course, but there had to be more. I nodded.

“The others … it’s Basteau and that white–haired foreigner you need to take out. Yeah, we all want use of the ley line energy, but we’re willing to come to a peaceful solution.” He squirmed, looking around the warehouse then down at his feet.

It was a relief to know that the entire group wasn’t set on a course of violence and destruction. “I’m sure once this is all over there will be a way everyone can share the ley line.”

“One more thing. You spared my life when the vampires wanted to tear me apart. I know I’m stupid asking this of a demon, but can you make sure you don’t kill my colleagues?”

I had no desire to kill them, but we’d be storming into a magical ceremony. I couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be collateral damage. “We’ll do our best, but if they attack us, we’re not going to hold back. Is there a way to get a message to them so they’ll stand down, or even fight against Basteau and the other guy?”

Steve shook his head. “I can’t. It’s too risky. These guys are powerful, and everyone is afraid to go against them. I don’t know what they’ll do in a fight, but I can’t take the chance that any warning I give them would be leaked.”

“Okay. Deal.” Sparks danced along my fingers as I readied a low–voltage strike, just in case. “You do understand that we can’t allow you to leave. Just in case this is a trap.”

He eyed my fingers and backed up a few steps. “I’ll tell you the location and the wards, but then I’m out of here. I’m not risking my life further.”

I hated to zap the guy, so, instead, I poured on the pheromones, matching each of his backward steps with a forward one of my own. His eyes widened then he shook his head, pulling a small metal charm from under his shirt. The sparks against my hands sputtered and fizzled out, refusing to return. The tendrils of my sex magic swirled a foot from him, unable to penetrate the invisible barrier. He’d prepared for this meeting.

“I’m leaving. They’re at sixteen–forty St. Charles Avenue. There are alarm wards on the doors and windows, and a keep–away spell surrounding the grounds. Good luck.”

“Not so fast, Dumbledore.”

I’d prepared for this meeting, too. Steve spun around and looked down the barrel of a shotgun held in the steady hands of my best friend.

“But you said you came alone,” he sputtered. “I have a truth amulet. You didn’t lie.”

“I said there were no witches, vampires or other demons,” I corrected. “Darci is human and doesn’t practice magic. She is, however, a damned good shot, so you might want to hold very still and keep your hands where we can see them.”

I pulled out my cell phone and sent Ourson a quick text. Seconds later, the doors opened, and Irix entered, Kristin by his side.

“Kristin, would you please search Steve here and confiscate all his magical items? Be careful, I’m not sure what he’s got on him.”

I turned to Irix, wrapping an arm around his waist. It felt good just to be next to him again.

“Ready to fight?” I relayed what I’d learned from the apprentice.

“What about him?” Irix nodded toward Steve. There was an amazing pile of charms, amulets and little colored bags at the apprentice’s feet.

“I’m thinking of asking one of the vampires to watch him. I don’t really want to drag him along with us, but I don’t trust that he won’t tip them off that we’re coming.”

“I’ll just take a few of these things with me then.” Kristin had finished her thorough pat–down and stuffed two amulets, a scroll, and several of the colored bags into the pockets of her cargo pants.

“I’d watch him, but I’ve got to get this shotgun back to my Dad,” Darci commented. “The storm’s picking up, so I’ll probably just stay there.”

Irix nodded. “Let’s get moving then, before the storm worsens.”

Inexplicably, the storm had dramatically increased since I had entered the warehouse. Gusts yanked my hair from its barrette and tangled wet strands around my face. The rain pelted us with cold hard drops as we raced to the car. Thankfully the Cadillac had good handling in bad weather. We crammed as many witches and vampires as we could into the sedan, while others did the same with their cars and trucks. It wasn’t the most dignified way to travel, but it was the most efficient.

Stealth wasn’t necessary as we pulled up and parked across the street from the St. Charles Avenue house. The rain had begun to flood the road, and several inches of standing water, plus the weather forecast, meant that we were the only ones out. The huge pepto–pink Victorian house seemed like an unlikely spot to hold a magical ceremony. I checked the address, just to make sure.

“It’s the right place,” Kristin whispered, holding up an amulet. It glowed green. “There’s a ton of magical energy going on in there.”

We climbed from the cars like clowns at a circus, some circling around to the back of the house, as we’d agreed earlier. The rain had tapered off to a drizzle, like it was gathering strength for one massive strike. Grateful for the reprieve, Kristin, Ourson, and I stood by the black wrought–iron fencing that surrounded the house lawn.

“It’s all spelled, just as that guy said.” Kristin once again held the amulet in front of the iron gate.

I held out a hand, wondering what a keep–away spell did, and was immediately seized with a massive headache and an urge to puke. Fighting against it, I touched the iron and found myself across the street, climbing into the passenger seat of the Cadillac. So
that’s
what it did. How the heck were we going to break that? I couldn’t even touch it. Then there was the alarm function on the doors and windows that Kristin explained wouldn’t just let Crimson Moon know we were trying to get in, but would prevent any kind of lock picking — magical or physical.

I crossed the street to where Ourson and Kristin stood. Everyone was in place awaiting our signal, and we didn’t have time to sit around and brainstorm options. I needed to decide what to do, and decide it fast. As I always did when faced with a huge decision, I looked around for Irix and realized I hadn’t seen him since we’d gotten out of the car.

What I did see was headlights from something big headed towards us. Given that we were standing in front of a house, I acted.

“Get out of the way!”

Ourson grabbed Kristin and moved with a blur of speed to the corner. I followed, nearly as fast. There was a huge crash, and the iron gate, along with three sections of fencing, went flying as a delivery truck smashed through it and into the front yard. Not stopping, the truck sped ahead, avoiding the steps to the front door and driving straight into the front of the house.

Irix had taken care of the wards, in what I was coming to learn was typical demon style. “Tell the others to move in,” I instructed Kristin, rushing forward.

There was just enough room between the truck and the jagged edges of smashed siding and drywall for me to squeeze through. Irix was punching his way through on the other side.

“Hurry!”

I hurried. We may not have set off the alarm spell, since Irix had avoided the doors and windows, but I was pretty sure everyone had heard a huge truck smashing through the house.

“To the left!” Kristin shouted, holding the amulet in one hand as she tried in vain to squeeze through the tight opening into the house. I paused just long enough to see Ourson smash his fist through the drywall, widening the space, before I took off.

A narrow hall led to a set of double doors with elegant brass handles. Irix lowered his shoulder and crashed through them in a remarkable imitation of the delivery truck. The room was huge, and in the center was a group of robed figures standing inside a series of circles and pentagrams etched into the floor.

“Hold steady!” A man shouted. I recognized his voice.

The casters returned to their positions, taking up a chant. I ran forward, unsure whether I’d be able to enter their circle or not.

Not. I bounced off what seemed to be an invisible wall and flew backwards to plow into Irix. We sprawled on the floor in a heap.

“Curtain!” Basteau called out.

Blackness fell over the room, so dark that I truly couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. The chanting seemed to come from the left, then the right. I was sightless and couldn’t even use my hearing to pinpoint their location. Not that I could do much with the magical wall that surrounded them.

Orange orbs glowed in front of me, and I jumped. Irix was underneath me on the floor, so it wasn’t the demon with the freaky eyes. My hands crackled with electricity, but I held back, waiting for the monster to attack.

“Cool stuff these Crimson Moon people have,” Kristin said cheerfully. “Watch this.”

I couldn’t watch anything. All I could see were her weird eyes, blinking in and out. Something came in front of them, blocking them from my view momentarily, and then I heard a series of screams disrupt the chant. With a ‘whoosh’ the blackness fell, and I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the sudden return of light.

Inside the circle people frantically shed robes that seemed to be dissolving right off their bodies. Basteau screamed for them to resume, but no one listened. That’s when I noticed that their clothing wasn’t the only thing disappearing. The etchings on the floor smoked, huge gashes burning their way through the marble.

“Now!” I shouted.

The other witches and vampires had made it into the room and had been equally blind, but now everyone ran forward, dragging various members of Crimson Moon out by their shredded robes. Irix and I ignored them and headed for Basteau.

His eyes widened when he saw me, and then narrowed. I braced myself, thinking he would launch some magical attack at us, but, instead, he turned and ran. I could have easily caught him, but I didn’t want to put on the elven speed and leave Irix in the dust. Catching Basteau wasn’t the problem, it was what I was supposed to do once I had him. Electricity was pretty much all I had. I didn’t want to kill him, and ever since I’d incinerated that elf in Hel, I was reluctant to produce anything stronger than a static shock.

Irix might not be as fast as I was, but he was certainly quicker than a middle–aged mage who had been posing as a banker. We gained on Basteau, following him through the connecting rooms of the vast house. As we neared what had to be the rear room, I put on a burst of speed, unwilling to let him escape outside.

“Amber, no!”

Irix knocked me aside with his arm, sending me into a round table. Pain lanced through my side, and I gasped, trying to regain my balance. Instead of me, Irix had gone through the doorway, unable to stop his momentum. He now stood frozen inside an inscribed series of triangles. I heard a mocking laugh, then a series of words in a language I recognized but couldn’t speak.

I had no idea what Basteau was casting, but it most certainly wasn’t good. The triangles crossed the threshold. I’d be unable to enter the room without stepping into the same trap as Irix. There might be another way in, but I had no time to search for it. I wished I had the delivery truck to crash through the walls. The flimsy round table I’d whacked my side on probably wouldn’t make a dent in the dry wall. There was only one way in. If I failed, at least I’d suffer the same fate as Irix — whether that be banishment or a fiery death.

I walked forward and felt a sharp jolt as I entered the center of the triangle.

And then I walked right out to the other side.

Basteau abruptly stopped chanting, his mouth wide open. “How … why? What
are
you?”

I wasn’t about to tell
him
. Instead I said one of the few phrases I knew in Elvish. “Feallendlith gal–moed.”

Nyalla told me it meant something like ‘rotted whore’ and was considered a terrible insult to both genders. She must have spoken true, because Basteau recoiled, and his face grew ashen.

“Stay right where you are, or I’ll fry you.” I didn’t want to kill him. Well, I
did
want to kill him, but none of the robed individuals in the other room had white hair, and we needed to find Weaver.

Basteau raised his hands in that universal gesture of surrender. Then he spun around and bolted.

Before I could think, I’d launched something at him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t my standard stream of electricity. The blast left my hand and hit the mage, blowing him into a spray of red chunks that decorated walls, ceiling, floor, and me. The only one spared was Irix, who was in the spelled triangle. I shook the blood and bits of flesh off my hands, looking for something reasonably clean with which to wipe my face.

“Elf–girl, when you stepped into this banishing ward, I was ready to kill you myself. What were you thinking?”

I had no time for Irix’s scolding. I’d blown up the only man who probably knew Weaver’s whereabouts. Even if he’d been a summoned demon, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t go on with death and destruction. Hopefully an angel would get him. In the meantime, I was covered with gore, and my own demon was still trapped.

“How do I get you out of there?”

Irix pivoted around, looking down at the floor. “Does Kristin have any more of those acid spells? We need something to break the lines, and since they’re drawn into the floor they’ll need to be dug across or burned out.”