Chapter 9 #3
The narrow stairs led down to a deck that the boat’s passengers probably were never meant to see. It was strictly utilitarian on this level, from the plain LED lights mounted on the wall to the brushed steel floor beneath their feet.
Not that Caleb cared. He wasn’t here to go sightseeing.
A rumble of voices came from a partially open door at the end of the hall. Why the people inside hadn’t closed it all the way, he didn’t know, although he assumed it was probably because everyone else had been told to stay far away.
And when the guy paying the bills told you to do something, you followed his orders.
Pru paused so she could slip off her high heels. “Too noisy,” she told him in an undertone he had to strain to hear. “Take yours off, too.”
Caleb really didn’t like the idea of padding around here in sock feet, but he knew she was probably right. They had to approach with the most stealth they could manage if they wanted a chance to hear — and hopefully see — what was going on inside that room.
So he bent down and unlaced the dress shoes he’d been given, then tied the laces together and hung them around his neck. “Okay?” he whispered.
Pru nodded. With one hand, she gestured for him to follow her.
They crept down the corridor, pausing every few steps to make sure no one in the room ahead seemed to have heard them.
The voices continued, though, and because just enough sound from the DJ and the general murmur of conversation upstairs seemed to filter down through the floor, Caleb guessed it wouldn’t be easy to hear him and Prudence approaching unless they really screwed up and sneezed or something.
Thanks to the covering noise, they reached the door without incident. Pru inclined her head, seeming to signal that she thought Caleb should be the one to look inside. That made sense, if only because he was taller and would have a slightly better vantage point.
And also, since he was part demon and she wasn’t, if anything truly sketchy was going on inside, he’d have a better idea of recognizing it for what it was.
The cabin wasn’t very large. Standing at the far side was a man he recognized as August Sellers, tall and thin and blond. Gathered around him were four more men of various heights and sizes and ages, all of them in dark suits.
And sitting in the middle of that circle was Aaron Sanchez.
His head was tilted back, and his blank eyes stared at the ceiling. Caleb couldn’t tell if he was drugged or in a trance or what, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
August Sellers nodded, and one of the men standing in the circle stepped forward, then lifted Aaron’s arm.
Unlike the others, he was dressed casually, in jeans and a pale blue polo shirt and tennis shoes — much the same sort of outfit he’d been wearing when he’d come to Caleb’s house to ask for help, except for the color of his shirt.
Sellers gazed around at his followers…Caleb couldn’t really think of them in any other way…and then he raised a hand and pressed one long, thin finger against Aaron’s arm, tracing a pattern as he went.
A dark shape appeared against Aaron’s warm brown skin, not exactly like the sigils Caleb had seen on the demon-controlled participants in the Desert Paradise poker tournament, but close enough that he knew it must be something similar.
Something designed to control.
“You will keep watch,” August Sellers said. “You will not allow anyone to come near. The psychic must be left undisturbed.”
The psychic? Was Sellers talking about Delia?
“I will keep watch,” Aaron repeated in a monotone.
What was it that Ty had said about the man? That he was a vessel, someone easily manipulated and controlled by dark forces?
Well, Caleb was definitely seeing obvious evidence of that dubious quality right now.
Next to him, Pru shifted. “What’s happening?” she whispered.
Caleb gave a violent head shake, hoping his vehemence would be enough to let her know this was not the time for conversation. True, she’d spoken in a very soft whisper, one that barely reached his ears, but….
August Sellers’ head went up, reminding Caleb of his old dog Riley when he’d smelled something on the wind.
“Someone is out there,” he said clearly. “Get them.”
Time to go.
Caleb grabbed Pru by the arm and all but hauled her down the corridor. From behind him came the clatter of leather-soled shoes on metal.
Yep, those things were pretty loud.
Speaking of which —
He lifted the shoes from around his neck and imagined the pair aflame, then hurled them backward. Although he couldn’t stop to look, an explosion and a set of shouted curses from behind him told him the shoes had done their work.
They’d also let him know that those men must have also been enslaved the same way Aaron Sanchez just was, rather than actually being demons, because otherwise, they surely would have thrown a few retaliatory fireballs of their own.
“What the actual fuck?” Prudence gasped.
“Just keep going,” he said.
They’d reached the stairs, so he was able to throw a quick look over one shoulder to see what was happening before they started heading up to the main deck. Smoke swirled in the passageway, but it cleared soon enough to reveal a tall figure moving straight for them.
August Sellers.
He lifted a hand.
Okay, really time to go.
They were about a third of the way up before the fireball smashed into the stairwell.
Caleb clung to the handrail and saw that Prudence had had the presence of mind to do the same.
In fact, it looked as if she was hauling herself up purely through arm strength, since the stairs immediately behind her had given way.
Screams and the sound of shattering glass came from the main cabin, and the boat began to list to one side.
Starboard? Port? Caleb had no idea. The only thing he did know was that throwing fireballs around on the lower decks was apparently not a great thing for hull integrity.
They emerged near the kitchen and almost bumped into Ty, who stared at them in consternation.
“What the hell is going on down there?”
“They were putting some kind of mind-control sigil on Aaron Sanchez,” Prudence said, her voice still not much more than a gasp. “And then they saw we were there and started chasing us.”
“And I’m pretty sure August Sellers is about to appear at any moment,” Caleb put in. “So we need to get out of here.”
Ty’s mouth compressed, but it seemed clear he knew they didn’t have time for any arguments. “All right. This way.”
He led them through the chaos in the main cabin — the music had stopped, but people were running this way and that, not sure where they should go — and out onto the deck. This part of the boat felt lower, as if it had already begun to sink.
Well, Caleb had been standing just under this section when he threw those shoe-bombs at their pursuers.
“What now?” he said, looking all around.
But this wasn’t the Titanic, and he sure didn’t see any lifeboats.
“We jump,” Ty said calmly. “We’re only a few hundred feet from shore. It’s an easy swim.”
Under normal circumstances, sure. Caleb had grown up with a pool in the backyard, and he got in at least a hundred laps most days in the pool at his new house as well.
That wasn’t ordinary water out there, though.
No, it was the Colorado River, filled with the kind of energy that didn’t seem too friendly to a being such as he.
Not that they had too much time to argue. August Sellers had just emerged from the cabin, a shadowy figure behind him that might or might not have been Aaron Sanchez.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Sellers demanded.
“Jump!”
A pair of strong hands hit Caleb squarely in the back, and the next thing he knew, he’d gone right over the railing and into the strong, cold current of the river.
Some of it went into his mouth and he choked, thinking it tasted like battery acid. Almost at once, he began to flounder…
…and then a bubble of glowing white light surrounded him, somehow shielding him from the worst of the water’s energy.
Swim, came Ty’s voice in his mind. Head for the Nevada shore.
Luckily, that was easy enough to see, thanks to the lights of the casinos shining in the water. He began to move in that direction, his body remembering the effortless side stroke he used every morning in his pool, even when his conscious mind couldn’t completely think of what to do.
From behind him came the sound of splashing, and he thought he saw Prudence and Ty swimming after him. She also seemed to know what she was doing, but he thought that Ty was sticking close to her, just to be safe.
The rocky shore arrived sooner than Caleb had expected. He dragged himself onto solid land, gasping and coughing, and the bubble of white light Ty had summoned disappeared as if it had never been.
A moment later, Pru came ashore as well, followed by the half angel. Behind them, sirens blared as other vessels converged on the cruise boat, which looked to be partially engulfed in flames but didn’t seem to have sunk any further.
“They’ll be able to save it,” Ty said briefly. “Is everyone all right?”
Caleb nodded. “Thanks for the assist.”
Prudence pushed a strand of wet green hair — looking for all the world like seaweed — off her forehead. “Thank God we kicked off our shoes earlier.”
True. The sandals she’d been wearing had fastened around the ankles and his had laced up, so they would have been difficult to get rid of while swimming.
“What now?” he asked.
She looked over at the shimmering towers of the hotel casinos, their lights glaring in all colors of the rainbow against the night sky.
“We find a place to crash and regroup,” she said. “Come on — let’s get out of here before Sellers figures out which way we went.”
And she began to trudge away from the waterline toward the nearest hotel…not the Aquarius, Caleb noted with relief.
Since he couldn’t think of a better idea, he decided to follow her.