Chapter 13
Following behind the fleeing demon, Ravyr made the strategic decision to allow Bastian to escape. The male had to know his only hope of surviving was by reaching the protection of his mysterious master before Ravyr could catch him. He also made two calls. One to the chauffeur waiting at the Yalick estate, ordering the demon to return Maya to the Witch’s Brew. And the other to Valen, warning him that there was a dragon scale manufactory in his territory.
Then, he zigzagged his way through the dense trees, heading ever deeper into the nearby mountains as he followed his prey. He had no idea where they were headed, but he wasn’t surprised when he felt a small pulse of magic beneath his feet. Any demon, or even a vampire, who was going to build an evil lair away from the main Gyre would seek out one of the small pools of magic that seeped through the crevices. It didn’t provide the same amount of power, and they could disappear without warning, like a bubble being popped by an unseen force, but they gave a temporary boost of magic to those creatures who preferred to lurk i n the shadows.
Slowing his pace, Ravyr paused at the edge of a large clearing, cautiously surveying the white stone structure with a slate roof that was built next to a stream gushing with water from the recently melted snow. Ravyr guessed that it’d once been a sawmill that had been abandoned by humans years ago. And at a glance it still looked abandoned. It wasn’t until he noticed that the rocky ground had been carefully cleared of obstructions and coated with a shimmering layer of magic that he was certain that there was not only something inside, but that it was also worth enough to spend the money for a magical barrier to keep o ut trespassers.
Was this Bastian’s destination? Only one w ay to find out.
Giving up any pretense of stealth, Ravyr walked forward, wincing as he hit the barrier, and forced his way through. The powerful spell was designed to repel any intruder not given the secret password. And while his immunity to the magic meant he could pass through without any physical harm, it didn’t keep him from feeling as if he was walking through a woodchipper.
Once through the barrier, Ravyr raced forward, his movements a blur to most watchful gazes. He never slowed as he reached the heavily boarded door, busting through the thick wood with enough force to send splinters flying through the larg e, open space.
Skidding to a halt, Ravyr ignored the chaos of screaming goblins and fairies who rushed toward the exits at the far end of the taproom, turning over tables and sending mugs of grog tumbling to the flagstone floor as they fled. He assumed this was an illegal safe house and the customers were afraid that Valen was sending in a raid party to search for criminals. Thankfully, he didn’t give a shit about them. The only demon he was interested in was Bastian.
Oh, and the large goblin currently walking toward him with a shotgun pointed at his head. It wouldn’t kill him, but healing would take time and energy he didn’t have to waste.
“How did you get in here?” The goblin was well over six foot with bulging muscles beneath his T-shirt and jeans. His hair was greasy and long enough to brush his w ide shoulders.
He had the cocky assurance of a male who was used to giving orders and havi ng them obeyed.
It was going to be a bad night for him.
Ravyr folded his arms over his chest. “I’m looking for a demon named Bastian. Hand him over and there won’t b e any trouble.”
“There’s already trouble.” The demon waved the shotgun as if Ravyr had failed to notice it. “I asked you how you got in here. You aren’ t on the list.”
Ravyr peeled back his lips to expose his fully exposed fangs. “We can do this the easy way, or the way where I tear this place apart s tone by stone.”
“The Cabal doesn’t have a uthority here.”
“No?” Ravyr glanced around the open space, taking in the barren walls and the open beams overhead. “Granted, it’s a pile of shit, but Valen will be interested to know he’s lost control of his territory.” He returned his attention to the goblin. “Are you t he new master?”
“This is a neutral location where demons pay to be safe. Regardless of who is hunting them.”
Ravyr’s smile widened. “Listen carefully. I’m not in the mood for a pissing match with a demon with more balls than brains. Fetch Bastian before I rip your heart o ut and eat it.”
The male’s brash confidence faltered, his gaze flicking toward the razor-sharp fangs. Was he beginning to wonder if he could pull the trigger before Ravyr could rip out his throat? Ravyr could answer that question.
No way in hell.
There was an awkward pause as if the male was considering his limited options. Then, with a timing that made Ravyr’s fangs clench, the temperature in the taproom dropped and a frost crawled over the glasses stacked on the bar. Abruptly, the male squared his shoulders and t ilted his chin.
“You won’t be so tough when the owner gets her e,” he warned.
“I can’t wait.”
Ravyr turned to face the door at the back of the room, prepared for the vampire who was rapidly approaching. He frowned. He couldn’t catch his smell, as if there was some sort of spell muting his scent, but there was something familiar about his p ower signature.
A second later the door was shoved open and a large vampire with long brown hair and a square face that looked like it’d been chiseled out of granite appeared. His dark eyes smoldered with anticipation and his fangs were exposed as he visibly savored the violence that trembled in the air. Wearing camo pants tucked into heavy boots with a green T-shirt that was two sizes too small to emphasize his thick muscles, the male swaggered toward the cente r of the floor.
Ravyr rolled his eyes. “Primus. I shou ld have known.”
Intent on impressing the crowd that was no longer there, the vampire belatedly glanced in Ravy r’s direction.
“You.” The older male jerked to a halt, his eyes widening with genuine horror. “Shit. I thought you were dead.”
Ravyr blew him a ki ss. “Surprise.”
“Why are you here? Did Si njon send you?”
“Why would he send me?” Ravyr deliberately glanced around the empty space. “You’re not doing something bad, are you? Perhaps running an illeg al safe house?”
Abruptly reversing direction, Primus scurried toward the door he’d just used for his g rand entrance.
“Get everyone out,” he called towa rd his servant.
“What’s happening?” the demon demanded, obviously disappointed that his boss wasn’t providing the ass kicking he’d bee n anticipating.
Primus didn’t bother answering, but Ravyr pointed a finger in the demon’s face as he strolled past.
“Don’t move.”
Easily following the trail of the fleeing vampire, Ravyr cautiously stepped through the door and headed down a narrow flight of stairs. He wasn’t going to risk rushing headfirs t into a trap.
Step by step he headed downward, his nostrils flaring at the moldy stench thick in the air. They were close enough to the creek for the damp humidity to seep through the dirt, and Primus was clearly indifferent to the mildew and fungus that was layering the walls with a s lick green goo.
Ravyr was careful not to touch anything as he reached the bottom of the steps and followed a narrow hallway lined with heavy steel doors. He assumed the doors led to the individual safe rooms that demons could pay extra to rent. Which meant there were probably additional layers of magic t o protect them.
He wasn’t going to risk an injury when he could simply force Primus to hand over the demon.
Slowing his pace, Ravyr headed toward the end of the hallway. The vampire was nowhere in sight, but his power pulsed through the cramped space. Was he hidden behind a web of illusions? Ravyr scanned the walls, at last catching the fuzzy distortion in a shadowed corner. It was like the ripple of a mirage, offering the eye a vision that wasn’t there.
With a grim determination, Ravyr reached through the illusion, feeling the hot rush of magic before his fingers were closing around Primus’s throat and he yank ed him forward.
Primus hissed in frustration, but he wasn’t stupid enough to try to escape as he dangled from Ravyr’s crushing grip. “Damn, you’re a pain in the a ss,” he rasped.
“So I ’ve been told.”
“How di d you find me?”
“Obviously I need to have my karma cleansed. Or my chi balanced. Or whatever the hell is supposed to get rid of bad luck.” Ravyr shoved the vampire against the wall. “The last thing I want to do is waste my time dea ling with you.”
Realization that Ravyr hadn’t come to the remote sawmill specifically to hunt him down spread across Primus’s broad face. Along with a faint shred of hope that he might sur vive the night.
“Why would you have to deal with me?” His lips formed into a sickly smile. “You told me to stop dealing in the slave trade. So that ’s what I did.”
After Sinjon had taken command of the vampires, he’d requested Ravyr to infiltrate the slave market where hundreds of demons were held captive and sold to the highest bidder. It’d been illegal to deal in slaves for centuries, but few members of the Cabal cared enough to bother shutting them down. It’d come as a shock when Ravyr had collected the identities of every leech involved in the revolting organization and had them arrested. They were even more shocked when Sinjon had ordered them to be hexed to keep them from ent ering any Gyre.
Over a dozen leeches were cursed to roam the world without any hope of regaining their place in v ampire society.
“And instead you opened an illegal safe house.” Ravyr squeezed a fraction tighter. “You never learn, do you?”
“Yes, I swear I’m learning.” The dark eyes widened with genuine fear. “I’m repenting for my days of abusing demons. Now I’m helping them. You shou ld be pleased.”
Ravyr pretended to consider his explanation. “I suppose you could plead your case to Valen. This is his territory, after all. But if I were you, I wouldn’t count on any sympathy. In fact, there’s a good chance he’s going to throw you in his deepest dungeon for a v ery long time.”
Primus licked his lips. “Surely we can make some sort of arrangement between the two of us? No need to drag Valen into this. He’s a busy male with his new mate and all the trouble he’s had over the pa st few months.”
The idiot’s not wrong, Ravyr silently conceded. The last thing Valen needed was another problem added to his to-do list. And this wasn’t like the Yalicks’ drug trade. A few demons hiding in the middle of nowhere weren’t going to be his top priority even if he didn’t have a million other thin gs on his mind.
“Perhaps we can make a deal,” he said, layering his voice with a f aux reluctance.
“Just tell me what you want and con sider it done.”
“I’m looking for a goblin. His name is Bastian, or at least that’s the name he used when he was in service to the Yalick clan. He would have come in just a few minu tes before me.”
“Hmm.” Primus wrinkled his brow. “The name doesn’ t ring a bell.”
“Fine.”
Ravyr abruptly released his grip on the male’s throat and reached into hi s front pocket.
Primus watched him with a wary gaze. “What are you doing?”
“ Calling Valen.”
“Wait. I just remembered.” Primus reached out, although he was wise enough not to touch Ravyr. “Actually, we do have a demon who recently arrived and demanded one of our hourly rooms. He seemed to be in a rush.”
“T ake me to him.”
With a jerky nod, Primus inched his way past Ravyr and retraced his steps up the hallway before halting in front of one of the steel doors. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy iron ring that held old- fashioned keys.
“Careful, Primus,” Ravyr warned as the male pushed one of the keys into the lock.
“I’ve learned my lesson, Ravyr. I’m not going through another disembowelment. It took me weeks to heal,” Primus growled, not bothering to glance in Ravyr’s direction. “I’m just ope ning the door.”
Ravyr grimaced. He’d forgotten the male had attempted to escape after he’d been captured and sent to Sinjon’s dungeons. The price was a very slow, very painful disembowelment that was usually performed in front of the other prisoners. It helped to reinforce the idea that it wasn’t worth trying to leave before Sinjon was ready to let you go.
An effective tool.
Turning the key, Primus backed away, giving Ravyr ample space to step forward, grab the knob, and give the door a small push. Silently the door slid open a crack, just enough for Ravyr to see the flicker of candlelight on a small nightstand. Some one was inside.
Bastian?
The door slid another inch, but before Ravyr could lean forward to peer through the opening, the stench of death smacked him direct ly in the face.
“Damn.”
Pushing the door fully open, Ravyr stepped into the room, already prepared to discover the goblin’s corpse. What he wasn’t expecting was to find the male sprawled on the narrow bed, his body already in an advanced stage of decomposition and his eyes sunk deep in his skull. As if he’d been dead for days, not mere minutes.
Just like Courtney.
“Dead end,” he muttered in frustration. “Qu ite literally.”
Behind him, Primus sucked in a shocked breath. “What the hell? I don’t know what happened in here, but it i sn’t my fault.”
Ravyr muttered an ancient profanity, but before he could vent his irritation on the vampire who was trying to pretend he was invisible, he felt the vibratio n of his phone.
Pulling it out, he read the text from the chauffeur he’d left to take Maya home.
Still waitin g on the mage.
Ravyr shoved the phone back into his pocket and, without glancing toward the cowering Primus, ran down the hall and up the stairs. He’d accomplished precisely nothing and now Ma ya was missing.
What else could go wrong?
A question that should never, ever be asked.