Chapter 8
They were out of the city and zooming northward toward the Hudson Valley before Ravyr turned in his seat to study the silent wom an at his side.
“Talk to me,” he murmured, easily able to see her troubled expression despite the thick darkness.
“I should have suspected something when we smelled the dragon scale,” she said, annoyance edging her voice. “There’s no way Hexx could ever af ford the drug.”
Ravyr had limited experience with dragon scale. Sinjon had dozens of enforcers who were in charge of tracking down the potent drug and destroying it. All he knew was that it could allow any demon to tap briefly into their ancient magic, giving them a surge of euphoric power that often le d to violence.
“What are you suggest ing?” he asked.
“That it had to be someone besides Hexx who was in that alley smelli ng like scale.”
Ravyr nodded, recalling the goblin’s babbled story about a stranger handing him money in the alley.
“The demon who hired Hexx to sneak the bomb into the S laughterhouse.”
“Exactly.”
“And you k now who it is?”
“I have a good suspicion.” She turned her head to gaze at the passing scenery. Not that there was much to see. They’d left behind the sprawling city and plunged into the rolling hills that framed the nearby river. They’d also left behind the magic of the Gyre, easing the pulse of power that usually beat through Ravyr. He didn’t mind. He was still stronger and faster and more lethal than any other creature in the area. “When I first arrived in Jersey the Yalick clan approached me with a job offer,” Maya continued.
“Yalick.” He sent her a wry glance. “Even I’ve heard that name. They’re some sort of demon r oyalty, right?”
“They’re the oldest, most powerful demon cl an in America.”
“You refused their offer?”
“More than once.” She shrugged. “Eventually they sent their goon squad to convince me I needed the ir protection.”
Ravyr shook his head. Only Maya Rosen would refuse a position that would have paid her a fortune and solidified her place on top of the magical hierarchy. Of course, she didn’t need the Yalick clan to give her any of that, he wryly conceded. There wasn’t a Cabal leader in the world who wouldn’t offer her a king’s ransom to have her a part of their Gyre.
“I doubt that turned out as they expected,” he said dryly, not doubting for a second that she sent the poor demons flee ing in terror.
“I made certain they understood tha t no means no.”
At some point, Ravyr intended to hear the full story of how she’d gotten rid of her unwelcome visitors. Now, however, he needed to prepare for what new disaster they were abo ut to confront.
“How are the Yalicks conne cted to Hexx?”
She turned back to meet his curious gaze. “When they approached me, they specifically requested that I provide them with a potion that would allow their servants to go about their business without being noticed.”
“Like a di sguise amulet?”
“Not exactly. The magic doesn’t physically alter their features, but it encourages people to ignore them, if tha t makes sense.”
Ravyr considered what he’d glimpsed in Hexx’s mind. Reading the memories of others was never an exact science. It all depended on how closely they were paying attention to something and their personal prejudices that colored what was happening. Even faces were colored by emotions. Were they a friend, a lov er, a threat...
But Hexx’s memory of the male was like an outline that had never been filled in.
“A blank slate ,” he murmured.
“Yes, so whoever is looking at them rarely takes notice of anything but the fact that they have the usual eyes and nose and lips. Nothing th at stands out.”
“Convenient. I assume since I’ve never heard of that particular potion it’s not the sort of thing you can get at the loca l magic shop?”
She shook her head. “It’s very rare. Not only are the ingredients difficult to obtain, but it takes a level of magic most mages don’t possess to brew. A small vial can go for thousands of dollars on the black market.”
Ravyr tapped his fingers on his knee. Even for a wealthy family it would be a considerable investment if you included the salary for a powerful mage and the cost of the ingredients. There had to be a hel l of a payoff.
“Did they say why they want ed the potion?”
“They claimed that their business required their staff to transport large sums of money as well as priceless artifacts, and they preferred that servant remain incognito to avoid being robbed.”
“What’s t heir business?”
She pursed her lips, the scent of her disapproval thick in the air. “Officially they have a traditional auction house that caters to humans, as well as several smaller auction houses that deal exclusively with demon artifacts and obj ects of power.”
No doubt a lucrative venture, Ravyr acknowledged. Demons were always eager to buy anything that might connect them to their glorious past, but it didn’t explain the clan’s massive wealth. “And unofficially?”
“The rumor is that the bulk of their money comes from dealing in dragon scale.”
“Ah.” Ravyr abruptly understood. “That’s why they want their servants to be unrecognizable. No one could describe them or pick them out of a lineup. Sinjon takes a dim view of anyone caught in t he drug trade.”
“So does Valen,” Maya added. “Which is one of the reasons the family chooses to live in such a remote location instead of in the city. They try to keep a low profile.”
“If the demon was helping to manufacture the drug, it would explain why we smelled it in the alley ,” Ravyr added.
“Yes, it would easily linger for days ,” Maya agreed.
Ravyr considered the various implications as the SUV turned off the highway and followed the narrow path up the slope of a hill. For several miles there was nothing to see but the trees that formed a low tunnel over the road, but as they at last reached the summit, the view cleared to reveal a massive stone wall that towered ten feet into the air and sprawled in both directions as far as the eye could see. On top of the wall were marble statues that peered down at the world with arrogant disdain. They were also perfectly positioned to hide pot ential snipers.
“Is this the place?” He leaned to the side to peer out the window . “Impressive.”
“It’s obscene,” Maya retorted, the sweet scent of orchids more pungent than usual. “They protect the place like they’re expecting an alien invasion. Fences, guards, eve n attack dogs.”
“But no magic.”
“No demon magic,” Maya agreed, her features tense as the SUV bumped over the road, which was scarred with ruts and deep potholes. A visible warning that visitors were unwelcome. As if the formidable walls weren’t enough. “Which means they can’t be attacked by demons and avoid unwanted attention from Valen’s servants. But they can pay for snares and curses created by mages. I don’t doubt they have them hidden around the entire estate. It will be hard to snea k up on them.”
“No worries.”
Ravyr leaned forward to rap on the window dividing them from the driver. On cue, the SUV swung into a narrow opening in the wall that served as the front entrance. As expected, there was a heavy steel gate that blocked the road with razor wire added at the top. There was also a large, thickly muscular goblin who stood guard. His crimson aura was impressive, but he was too far from a Gyre to tap into his demon powers, so he’d compensated by arming himself with automatic rifles, large daggers, and what looked like a hand grenade dangling from his heavy utility belt.
Talk about overkill.
The SUV rolled to a halt and the guard strutted up, banging on the top of the vehicle.
“No visitors.”
The chauffeur rolled down his wi ndow. “I have—”
“I don’t care if you have the Easter Bunny,” the guard interrupted. “Turn around.”
Ravyr pressed the button on the door, sliding down the passenger window. “ Open the gate.”
The guard grabbed a handgun holstered at his hip. “Go get fu—” His lips snapped together as an icy blast of power slammed into him, sending him to his knees. “Shit. Master. Forgive me.” He pressed his face to the hard ground before rising to his feet and slamming a beefy hand against the steel barrier. “ Open the gate!”
Ravyr heard Maya mutter something under her breath, but his focus remained locked on the guard, who was nervously shifting from foot to foot, a cell phon e in his hand.
“Forgive me, Master, but I need a name. F or Mr. Yalick.”
“Ravyr.”
The dark eyes widened as he easily recognized the name. The lesser demons didn’t bother to pay attention to the various members of the Cabal. Just as they lacked the same wary respect for the vampires. The royal families, however, depended on their ancient bloodlines to maintain their power. Which meant spending at least a portion of their time in the local Gyres. Without the goodwill of the Cabal leader they could be shut out, leaving t hem near human.
Something none of them could stomach.
“Ambassador Ravyr?” The goblin blinked, then blinked again. “I thoug ht you were...”
“Dead?” Ravyr h elpfully added.
“Yeah.”
Ravyr parted his lips, allowing the tips of his fangs to shimmer in the moonlight. “A dang erous mistake.”
The goblin once again slammed his hand against the steel gate. “Get this damned thing open ,” he bellowed.
“Chillax, dude,” a voice groused as the gate shuddered upward. The guard on the other side bent down to peer beneath the rising barrier, no doubt intending to chastise his companion. Instead, the redheaded fairy abruptly dropped to his kn ees. “Oh shit.”
Maya clicked her tongue, her hands clenching into tight fists as she watched the g roveling fairy.
“What?” Ravyr demanded. He knew why she looked like she wanted to throat punch him, but he needed her to admit it. If they didn’t acknowledge the elephant in the room it was going to destroy any hope of getting past Maya ’s prejudices.
And he very much wanted to get past them.
“Nothing,” she retorted in tones that indicated it was very much something.
“You’re dripping wit h disapproval.”
She jerked, her eyes narrowi ng. “Dripping?”
“I was going to say oozing.”
“I’m not dripping or ooz ing anything.”
“But you do disapprove.” It was n’t a question.
She waved a hand toward the fairy. “I don’t think anyone should have to grovel. Even if the y are a demon.”
“Especially if they’re groveling to a vampire?”
She shrugged. “You sa id it, not me.”
“Would you believe me if I agreed that our class division is antiquated? And that I have no interest in being involved in C abal politics?”
“Do you have a choice?”
Ravyr grimaced. It was a direct hit. An d she knew it.
For now he didn’t have the luxury of indulging his personal desires. Not until the danger had be en eliminated.
But someday...
Anticipation sizzled through him, his mind overwhelmed with vivid images of carrying Maya to his bed and stripping off each icy layer until she was warm and naked in his arms. He wanted her trembling with need, the air scented with her desire. He wanted her nails raking down his bare chest and her legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged d eep inside her.
Not waiting for the gate to fully open, the SUV gunned forward, skimming up the road that was suddenly as smooth as glass. Ravyr leaned his head out the open window, studying the massive redbrick mansion that loomed at the top of the hill. He wasn’t interested in the mullioned windows, fancy cornices, or the ivy that coated the wide verandas and climbed up the turrets at each end. He was locating each guard who was strategically placed around the house. He assumed there were an equal number hidden in the surr ounding woods.
Enough to make his visit uncomfortable if the Yalick clan decided he was a threat to their luxur ious lifestyle.
The vehicle swerved around the circle drive, parking directly in front of the sweeping staircase. With a fluid motion, Ravyr was out of the SUV and moving to place his body between Maya and the sniper crouched on the gable roof. Then, allowing his icy power to jolt through the air, he escorted her up the steps and across th e wide veranda.
As they approached, one of the double doors was pulled open and a servant dressed in a crimson-and-gold uniform bowed before leading them out of the foyer wi thout speaking.
Ravyr sensed Maya’s tension as they walked into the paneled corridor, her lips moving in a silent incantation. He shared her unease. There was no overt threat. Just the opposite. The vast mansion was an exact replica of an English country manor with lots of polished wood and open beamed ceilings. The artwork hanging on the walls was worth a fortune and enhanced the dark, stu ffy atmosphere.
It seemed that the Yalick clan was just another stodgy, obscenely wealthy family with nothing to hide, but underneath the scent of beeswax was a fetid stench. As if something was rotting bene ath their feet.
The uniformed servant led them into a long, formal salon before melting into the shadows, leaving Ravyr and Maya standing alone in the center of the handwoven carpet, directly in the pool of light from the overhead chandelier. As if they were actors on a stage as the demons who were gathered near the massive fireplace elegantly sank to their knees and bow ed their heads.
“Master Ravyr.” A large male with silver hair brushed from his square face spoke for the clan. “This is an une xpected honor.”
Ravyr took his time analyzing the kneeling demons. The older male was obviously the leader. He was wearing an expensive black suit that molded to his thick, corded muscles, but it was the deep crimson of his aura that revealed his true power. Next to him was a slender female with dark brown hair carefully tinted to hide the gray, and wearing a black satin gown. Three more demons were fanned behind them. Twin males who were exact replicas of their father, although their auras were obviously diluted, revealing that a distant ancestor had human blood. No doubt a severe disappointment to their parents. Sometimes it took several generations for the weakening pedigree to appear. Next to them was a female with long brown hair and an aura that was much darker than the males. Her expression was carefully bland, but Ravyr didn’t miss the hint of arrogant disdain that smoldered in her eyes. Her designer dress was short and tight and sparkled in the light from the chandelier.
Did the family always wear fancy clothes, or had they rushed to change when the guards had warned there was a vampi re at the gate?
“Rise,” he at l ast commanded.
The demons pushed themselves to their feet, the older male stepping forward to take charge.
“I am Lord Yalick, as I’m sure you are aware.” His expression was one of smug expectancy, as if he assumed that Ravyr’s arrival revealed respect for his clan’s power. “How may we serve you?”
Ravyr swept his gaze over the rest of the family. All of them appeared more curious t han concerned.
Dammit. They obviously hadn’t been involved in the explosion.
His gaze moved toward the guards standing at attention on each side of the long room. They both wore uniforms and both had crimson auras, although the one who was standing in front of the towering bookcase had a much darker aura. He also had a hardened expression that spoke of a male who enj oyed violence.
Ravyr watched as the guard rested a protective hand on the back of a wing chair beside him. Seated on the soft leather was a slender woman with blond curls and a narrow face. She was modestly dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks, as if she was deliberately attempting to blend into the shadows, but even at a distance he could see the stark hunger that burned in her pale eyes as she glared at Maya.
A mage.
She looked young, although he couldn’t determine her precise age, or how powerful she might be, but there was no mistaking the malicious envy that simmer ed inside her.
Those two, he silently acknowledged. They knew something.
The sound of Lord Yalick clearing his throat forced Ravyr to return his attention to the pompous goblin. The guard would eventually make a move, he knew. The male was nearly vibrating with the vicious urge to strike out.
And Ravyr would be ready.
“Valen has requested that I take charge of the investigation into the explosion that occurred last night,” he said, the scent of orchids suddenly th ick in the air.
Maya had easily sensed the danger from the younger woman and was making her own preparations for an attack.
“Explosion?” Lord Yalick fur rowed his brow.
The female next to him reached out to lay her hand on his arm, the large diamonds on her fingers threatening to blind Ravyr.
“It was on t he news, dear.”
“It was?” The older male took a second before he abruptly nodded. “Oh. That squalid building in the Meatpacking District. I thought it w as a gas leak?”
“There was no gas leak. A bomb was intentionally planted in the m en’s bathroom.”
Ravyr kept his gaze on Yalick but didn’t miss the sound of the guard shuffling his feet. The male had to realize that they’d spoken to Hexx. There was no other way they could know that the bomb had been placed in that specific spot.
“Tragic, but I’m not sure what this has to do with us,” Yalick retorted, his brow still furrowed as if searching for some way to profit off the news. “The property isn’t owned by my clan. And I assure you, we don’t go around setting off bombs. We are business owners, n ot terrorists.”
Ravyr allowed his fangs to lengthen, a chill blasting through the air. It was time to ge t to the truth.
“Then how do you explain the fact that your guard paid a large sum of money to a local goblin to carry the bomb into the Sl aughterhouse?”
“My guard?” Yalick blinked in confusion. “That ’s impossible.”
Ravyr curled back his lips, exposing his shiny, lethally sharp fangs. “ I have proof.”
“No...I mean you’ve made a mistake.... I swear on my life we had nothing to do with the bomb,” Ya lick stammered.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Ravyr turned to stare at the goblin across the room. On cue, the male pulled a semiautomatic handgun that had been holstered at his side and sprayed the room with bullets. At the same time, the mage jumped out of her seat and waved her hands in a series of circles. A dormant spell she’d no doubt cast when no one was around burst to life, shattering the overhead chandelier and sending the shards of glass zooming through the air. Most of them were aimed at Maya, who was using her own magic to deflect the jagged missiles while the Yalick clan dropped to the floor with scre ams of terror.
“What’s happening?” the clan l eader demanded.
“Get your family out of the way, ” Ravyr barked.
He wasn’t worried about the arrogant goblins. Once he informed Sinjon they were dealing in the scale trade, they were destined to end up in a very deep dungeon for a very long time. But he didn’t want one of them knocking him into the flying bullets or accidentall y tripping him.
Remaining on their hands and knees, the clan scrambled for the main doorway, along with the second guard who’d obviously decided to bail on his duties and flee f rom the danger.
Alone with the demon and the mage, Ravyr released a low roar and launched forward. A bullet slammed into his upper thigh and shards of glass burrowed into his chest, but he never slowed. Once he had his hands on the bastard he was going to squeeze the tr uth out of him.
He was savoring the image when there was a soft whoosh of air and the floor beneath his feet abruptly disappeared. He growled in fury as he tumbled into the ten-foot hole and hit the rocky bottom with a heavy thud.