Chapter 21 Declan #2
“What the fuck are you doing?” Sloan shouted, rushing in from the back temple.
I aimed the gun directly at his face, bringing the man to a halt.
Baring my teeth, I took three heavy steps forward, entering the building through the broken door.
“You know what I don’t like?” I growled. “When people lie by omission.”
“Excuse me?” he said, taking a hesitant step back, eyes locked on the gun.
“You heard me. I can tell when people lie to me, but only if the question is direct. If they leave things out, then I can’t tell.” I continued on, moving with unbroken strides toward him. “Did you try to get us killed?”
“Of course I didn’t. That’s ridiculous,” he said a little breathlessly.
Lie.
I cocked the pistol. “Wrong answer,” I said, pulling the trigger. The bullet whizzed past his ear, close enough the hair flipped up.
He let out a scream of shock, and clapped a hand to his ear, jerking away.
“You’re working with Virgil Tacitus, aren’t you?”
Sloan shook his head, eyes wide. “What? Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lie.
I curled my free hand into a fist and slammed it into the pretty man’s face. His nose shattered under my knuckles, and he cried out, falling backward as blood spurted from his nostrils.
“Last chance,” I said. “The next thing that hits your face is gonna be a bullet. What the fuck is going on?”
Sloan held a hand to his nose, tears of pain streamed down his cheeks, he heaved a shaking sob, and slumped back.
“How did Virgil Tacitus know to scry and watch over his brother?” I said. “And before you open your mouth, remember I can tell when you lie.”
“You cannot hurt me. I am blessed by one of the great old gods.”
“Even if that was true,” I said, pushing the gun closer to his face, “this has enough enchantments that I could probably blow Lucifer’s dick off if I wanted. Now talk.”
Fear and worry crossed the man’s face. Finally, he hung his head and spoke.
“After you came here asking about the Freedman family, I informed him of your search.”
“Why?” I pressed the gun to his head.
“He is a hopeful disciple of Sucellus. Trying to curry favor with the lord.”
True.
“Excuse me?” I frowned. “Virgil wants to be a follower of Sucellus?”
“More than that. He wants to be the follower. He’s offered himself as the greatest of his followers, in exchange for the power, money, and influence Sucellus can give him.
He will use his returned fortunes to spread the gospel of Sucellus, to help create more and more adherents, and increase the lord’s power throughout the world. ”
True.
“I told him that if he wanted these gifts from Sucellus that he’d have to make a great sacrifice. The Freedman family.”
“But they were your greatest adherents,” I said. “Why would—”
“They’ve lost their fervor,” Sloan said, his eyes growing fiery. “They do the bare minimum. They give small sacrifices, low tithes, and they forget him. My Lord Sucellus wants true followers, and Virgil Tacitus is a true follower.”
True.
Shaking my head with disgust, I said, “Sucellus doesn’t know anything about this, does he? This is all on you, isn’t it?”
Sloan gave me an embarrassed look, but he nodded. “I thought he would be pleased once it was complete. I would show him how devoted I was to his cause. That I’d found a powerful new adherent that would help spread his word.”
“When does the final sacrifice need to happen?” I said.
“The last surviving member of the Freedman family is to be sacrificed at midnight on the new year.”
True. That was tomorrow night. I had to hurry.
I crouched, keeping the gun to the man’s head.
“You know what I hate most about people who worship gods? It’s how fucking selfish they are.
It’s never about the god, it’s about them.
How holy they can look, how sanctimonious, how much better they are than those who believe something else. You’re fucking disgusting.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it.
“You tipped off the guys who jumped us when we left here, didn’t you?”
The man nodded. “A signal was sent.”
True.
I narrowed my eyes, then glanced down at the pin holding his toga in place. I tore it off.
“This?” I snarled. “Is it enchanted?”
Sloan nodded. “It notified Virgil’s men.”
“How many men does he have?” It was the main question I had. If I was going to war, then it would be good to know my odds.
“Virgil, as a show of faith, depleted the remainder of his fortune and hired many unsavory men. He also has some he’s placed under a thrall.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, I also provided him with men. Shifters, witches, vampires. I think there are at least two werewolves as well—”
“I should fucking kill you right now,” I growled.
I could practically see the religious devotion melt away. It was the opposite of the old saying there are no atheists in a foxhole. He only cared about living. He could ask forgiveness from his god later. Right now, he’d do anything to survive.
“But I’m not going to,” I said. “I need something from you.”
Understanding dawned in Sloan’s eyes. “What do you want?”
I grinned at him, and leaned in close. “I need some protection. You’re gonna help me with that.”
The shotgun lay on the seat beside me, runes glowing along the barrel.
Two silver enchanted knives sat in sheaths on my belt, and my clothing almost hummed with the reinforced magical protections that had been placed on them.
The morning sunlight glinted through the windshield as I pulled off the highway.
Gripping the wheel, anger flooded through me, blasting away any fear or hesitation.
Virgil knew I was coming, and I didn’t give a shit.
I’d bound and gagged the priest to prevent him from signaling Virgil.
That meant he didn’t know I was coming immediately, but even if he did, that didn’t matter.
I was on a mission, fueled by vengeance.
I would save Veronica, or I would die trying.
There was no other way this would play out.
Ahead, the trees parted, revealing a snowy-white expanse, broken only by the gray of marble and granite headstones.
In the middle of it all, cloaked in frost and icicles, was a huge mausoleum, and there, by the door, stood three hulking figures.
I slammed the brakes, the tires skidding in the snow, and grabbed the shotgun.
Before the car had even come to a full stop, I opened the door and stepped out.
The second the men spotted me, they sprinted forward. One shifted to a massive grizzly bear, the other morphed into a wolf. The third man ran behind them, pulsing orbs of blue magic shimmering in his hands.
I chambered a shell and walked straight toward the coming onslaught.
“Come and get me, motherfuckers,” I cried as I fired a shot.
The round exploded, shattering the early morning quiet, and a spray of silver buckshot hurtled toward the bear shifter.
The hulking beast yelped in pain as it slammed into his shoulder.
He tumbled aside, clawing and kicking at the ground.
Turning, I pumped the slide and fired at the wolf, my teeth bared as I pulled the trigger.
The shot caught him full in the chest as he leapt toward me.
He slammed to the ground, shifting to his human form, and lay limp, eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky.
A wave of magic flashed past me, throwing me to the side as it went by in a whirling blur of blue energy.
The shotgun skidded across the grass away from me as I fell.
The witch cast another spell, and a sharp bolt of red crackling magic shot toward me.
I managed to roll aside just as the grass and dirt exploded as if a grenade had gone off where I’d been seconds before.
I jumped to my feet and rushed the witch, closing the gap before he had time to realize what I was doing.
The witch gave a great shocked grunt, eyes going wide as I drove him into the ground, burying one of my silver daggers in his ribs.
He was dead before we even hit the grass, but I had no time to enjoy the victory.
A pair of sharp jaws clamped onto my shoulder and yanked me off the body, tossing me aside.
I grunted on impact and rolled over, finding the injured grizzly, snarling and growling as he approached. Any other day, I’d have pissed myself at such a sight, but now? All I cared about was getting Veronica back. When it opened its mouth to roar at me, I roared right back at it.
A human versus a shifter was usually a one-way ticket to a body bag, but thankfully, I’d come prepared. As the beast lunged for me, I unholstered my pistol and emptied it, sending six enchanted silver bullets at the bastard. Three took him in the face, the others in the chest and shoulders.
At least one must have done the job. His growling ceased as he fell with an earth-shaking thud inches beside me, and rapidly shifted back to his human form. I averted my eyes from the ruin of his face and scrambled to my feet. Cries sounded from inside the mausoleum. More were coming.
Backing toward my shotgun, I pulled bullets from my pockets to reload.
“Come on!” I bellowed. “Come for me if you’re fucking coming.”
From the dark entryway, a host of creatures and beings emerged.
The first I saw was that fucking werewolf Sloan had mentioned.
The fucker must have had some enchantment to allow him to transform without the full moon, because he was a full, walking nightmare of snapping jaws and taloned fingers as he rushed me.
I scooped up the shotgun and fired shot after shot. My mind went to a dark place, deep in the bowels of my soul where fear had no foothold. All I felt was rage and anger.
When I finally came back to myself, I was inside the mausoleum, a pile of dead bodies behind me. Glancing down at my body, I blinked in surprise. I was covered in blood. It looked like someone had tossed a bucket of red paint on me.