Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Dawn slowly crept across the Las Vegas valley, as if it wasn’t sure it wanted to be a witness to what the coming day might bring.
Caleb watched the sunrise through the single narrow window in his holding room, noting how the light seemed to bend strangely around the chapel, as if the building somehow existed outside normal reality.
Which, he supposed, it probably did by now.
The demons guarding him had changed shifts twice during the night, but the routine remained the same — two red-eyed sentinels flanked the door while he sat in the uncomfortable chair, ostensibly resting before his starring role in Vinea’s grand finale.
What they didn’t know was that he’d spent most of the night working on the subtle sabotage he’d been weaving into the ritual framework, tiny flaws and inconsistencies he hoped would cascade into something much larger when the time came, the way a tiny crack in a dam might turn into a flood when enough water tried to force its way through.
His phone had been taken away hours ago, but his psychic connection to Delia hung on despite everything.
Every so often, he’d catch glimpses through their bond — flashes of her sitting down to a dinner with a large group of family members at a restaurant that thankfully was far from the center of the chaos, taking a late-night call from Olivia to walk her through some wedding details…
working with Ty and Pru to piece together what Vinea was really planning.
She was safe for now. That was the one thing that really mattered.
The door to the holding room opened, and Vinea entered, once again wearing the human guise that made him look like a waxwork dummy in a bespoke suit.
The demon lord carried a silver tray laden with what appeared to be an excellent breakfast — eggs Benedict, fresh fruit, toast, and a big mug of heavenly-smelling coffee.
“Good morning, Caleb,” Vinea said as he set the tray down on a small table that appeared out of nowhere. “I trust you slept well?”
Actually, he hadn’t slept at all, but he saw no reason to share that information. “Like a baby,” he replied blithely, then gestured toward the food. “Room service in Hell has really improved since my last visit.”
That comment earned him one of Vinea’s razor-sharp smiles. “Oh, we’re not in Hell, dear boy. We’re very much on your beloved mortal plane, although I’ll admit that the boundaries have become rather fluid in this particular location.”
As if to emphasize his point, the walls of the holding room flickered for a moment, revealing glimpses of something vast and shadowy beyond them.
Caleb caught sight of what looked like a cathedral made of black stone, with architecture that pained his eyes, all Escher-esque planes and angles, with some flourishes that could have come right out of a concept drawing for one of the Alien movies.
Then the illusion snapped back into place, returning them to the mundane, square room where he’d been held captive for almost a day.
“Eat,” Vinea commanded, settling into a chair that materialized from thin air. It was large and almost throne-like, carved mahogany with blood-red upholstery, far grander than the hard, plain chair where his prisoner had been forced to sit. “You’ll need your strength for tonight’s festivities.”
Tonight. The word sent a chill down Caleb’s spine. Time continued to march on, although he really wished it wouldn’t.
He picked up the fork and took a bite of the eggs Benedict, which were annoyingly delicious. If the food hadn’t been so good, he wouldn’t have wanted to eat all of it. As it was, he knew he’d probably clean the plate…which he guessed would please Vinea to no end.
“So…tonight,” he said, figuring he might as well prepare himself for the worst. “Walk me through what happens.”
“Eager to get started, are we?” The demon lord seemed pleased, as though he’d interpreted Caleb’s request as a visible sign of cooperation.
“Very well. The ritual will begin at sunset, which is approximately eight o’clock at this time of year.
We’ll need several hours to properly synchronize the portal network across the city. ”
Caleb popped a grape in his mouth, then asked, “And I’ll be…?”
“Positioned at the primary nexus point, of course. Right here, in the heart of what was once Angel’s Dream Wedding Chapel.
” Vinea gestured around them, and for the barest second, the walls became transparent again, revealing the vast supernatural architecture that existed beneath the mundane skin that most everyday observers would see.
“Your blood will flow through channels carved into the foundation, connecting this location to every other node in the network.”
The mental image of his blood literally flowing through supernatural conduits made the eggs Benedict flip-flop in his stomach, but Caleb managed to keep his expression neutral. “And it’ll take three to four hours?”
“Yes. The process must be gradual to ensure stability.” Vinea’s tone was matter-of-fact, as if they were discussing getting together to build a bookcase from Ikea rather than performing a ritual that would reshape reality.
“The celestial alignment reaches its peak at 11:47 p.m., and that’s when the final gateway will open. ”
The final gateway. Something about the phrasing suggested that it wasn’t only the last portal in the sequence — it was the most important one.
“What makes that portal special?” Caleb asked.
For the first time since he entered the room, Vinea’s mask of confidence slipped just the slightest bit. In that brief moment, Caleb caught a glimpse of something that might have been anticipation mixed with genuine uncertainty.
“That gateway will be large enough to accommodate entities that haven’t walked this plane since before the human race learned to make fire,” the demon lord said, his quiet tone somehow far more ominous than a loud declaration would have been.
“Powers that make even someone like me look like a minor nuisance.”
Entities that made a lord of Hell look puny.
Caleb didn’t want to think about what that might mean, but his mind helpfully supplied images of a few unsettling things he’d glimpsed in the deepest parts of Hell during his unwilling residency there.
Ancient beings that existed at the very foundations of reality, creatures so old and powerful that they reshaped the laws of physics through their mere presence.
If something like that crossed over to Earth….
“Having second thoughts, nephew?” Vinea asked, having apparently noticed his reaction. “I will remind you that the ritual will proceed with or without your cooperation. Your willing involvement simply makes everything simpler.”
The threat was delivered with the demon lord’s usual urbane courtesy, but Caleb could hear the steel beneath the silk. Vinea was confident that Caleb would ultimately cooperate…but he was also prepared to drain his blood by force if necessary.
Which meant the sabotage Caleb had been weaving into the ritual framework was his only real weapon.
“No second thoughts,” Caleb said coolly. “I’m just trying to understand the full picture.”
“Wise of you.” Vinea rose from his chair, which dissolved back into nothingness as soon as he stood. “Knowledge is power, after all. And you’ll need every advantage you can get if you hope to survive what’s coming.”
The casual admission that Caleb might not survive the ritual should have been terrifying. Instead, it was almost a relief. If Vinea hadn’t been certain that his primary source of demon blood would live through the process, then the demon lord had probably built in redundancies and backup plans.
Which meant there were other targets, other sources of the mixed heritage that could power the portal network.
Other quarter demons.
But how was that possible when all the other quarter demons were safely locked away in Hell?
“Who else?” Caleb demanded, not caring how rough his voice sounded. “If something happens to me, who’s your backup plan?”
Vinea’s smile was all pointed teeth. “Why, your lovely Ms. Dunne, of course. Her abilities have been growing quite dramatically since her little adventure in Laughlin. I suspect her blood might be even more potent than yours.”
The demon lord might as well have punched Caleb right in the gut, considering how breathless…
how helpless…those words made him feel. Sure, he’d known Delia’s psychic abilities had been expanding over the past few weeks, or he wouldn’t have been able to maintain any kind of bond with her, tenuous as it seemed at the moment.
“Delia doesn’t have any demon blood,” he said. Somehow, his voice stayed level, although he couldn’t be sure that Vinea hadn’t noticed some other physical reaction to that threatening comment— maybe just the slightest widening of his eyes, or a momentary increase in his body heat.
After all, demons’ senses were far sharper than those of ordinary humans.
“Perhaps not,” Vinea replied, “but she’s something equally rare — a mortal whose psychic potential has been awakened by exposure to interdimensional energy.
That sort of person doesn’t come along very often, so in some ways, that makes her even more valuable than a quarter demon, since there are seven of you and only one of her.
” The demon lord began to walk around the small room, his footsteps silent, even though the leather soles of his expensive Italian lace-ups should have been clacking on the hard concrete floor.
His explanation made a horrible kind of sense.
During the incident in Laughlin, Delia had been exposed to massive amounts of supernatural energy, first from the Colorado River guardian network, and then by the portal the demon masquerading as August Sellers had partly opened.
If that exposure had changed her on some deep level that no one suspected… .
“You’re not touching her,” Caleb said, and this time he didn’t bother to hide the fury in his voice.