Chapter 9
We’re outside the veil,” Anna said.
“Run,” someone yelled. Anna thought it might have been the servant. The prisoner grabbed Anna’s arm as she reached down for her stake, and they started to run through the dimly lit room. They didn’t get far. Hisses cut through the air as the vampires rushed at them in a streak of light, encircling them. Anna and the prisoner stood together, stakes gripped in their hands as they faced the fanged creatures.
Anna was sure the vampires would have attacked immediately if they weren’t trying to figure out who they were and where they’d come from. The vampire with red-rimmed eyes moved first. He leapt at her, but the prisoner yanked her back and swung his bedpost like a sword, knocking the red-eyed monster to the floor. Anna attacked, driving her stake through his heart. He vanished in a pile of ashes. The others looked stunned.
“You have to cut off their heads or pierce their hearts,” she yelled, taking advantage of their hesitation.
“If I had a sword, it would help,” the prisoner said. Another one rushed them, and he drove his bedpost into its heart with one powerful thrust.
There was no doubt he was a warrior. But there were too many vampires. They would never defeat them all. Someone screamed, and everyone turned.
A man stood at the back of the room. He towered over everyone, a giant of a man with long, brown hair and dressed like a biker. He let out a growl and his body began to shift. Skin rippled and thickened, bones twisted and lengthened until the biker didn’t resemble a man, but a monster with gray skin and yellow eyes.
“Oh my God.” Anna felt her mouth drop.
“Kill them all!” the demon roared, and more demons burst into the room. Hisses filled the air as the vampires rushed at the demon and his allies.
“We have to leave. Now,” Anna cried. The prisoner stared at the demon, his face as pale as his shirt. Anna grabbed his hand and yanked. “Come on.”
He moved ahead, using his body to shield her from the fighting creatures. The room echoed with screams and roars. The vampires were fast, but the demons were stronger and appeared to be winning.
The prisoner tried to open the fancy door, but it was locked. He stepped back and threw his weight against it. When it gave, he shoved Anna inside the dark room. She found a light switch and turned it on. Treasures and antiques filled every space.
“Damnation.” The prisoner looked around, grabbed a heavy cabinet, and dragged it in front of the door. “See if there’s another way out.”
They searched the room for an exit as screams sounded outside the door. Anna passed a shelf filled with every kind of emerald imaginable—emerald rings, emerald amulets, emerald daggers. She yanked aside a pair of heavy burgundy draperies and saw they were still at least three stories above the stone wolves guarding the front of the fortress.
“We’re not getting out this way unless you know how to fly—” Anna glanced over and saw a woman, wantonly dressed, holding a broken bedpost.
“This is no time to be worrying about how bonny you look.” The prisoner appeared next to the woman, his handsome face—not quite as swollen now—wearing a frown. Anna realized it was only their reflection in a mirror. She felt a sense of weightlessness as she stared at the image. There was something troubling about the mirror.
The prisoner pulled her away. “Keep looking. There might be a secret door.”
Probably. The room reeked of secrets. But where? They didn’t have much time. Avoiding the mirror, she helped him search the room as screams continued outside. His kilt swirled around powerful legs as he pulled a bookshelf away from the wall.
“Here, I’ve found something.” He pointed to a hairline crack in the stone, the size of a small door.
A crash sounded behind them. The heavy cabinet blocking the door fell to the floor. The huge demon stood in the doorway. This close, there was no mistake. It was Voltar.
All warriors knew what the demons of old looked like. Photos and information about the demons were listed in the clan’s databases. Anna had never expected to encounter Voltar. He was one of the most powerful demons in existence. Why was he in Tristol’s fortress killing vampires? Why were vampires even there? They hadn’t looked like intruders. They’d looked right at home.
The prisoner moved in front of Anna, gripping his stake. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you,” the demon said to the prisoner, as he advanced slowly toward them. He smiled, showing sharp teeth in a thickset jaw.
“Don’t—” Anna warned the prisoner.
But he was already rushing at Voltar with a war cry that made the hair on Anna’s arms stand. He drove the pointed end of the stick at the demon’s head, but Voltar laughed and ducked clear.
“No,” she yelled. “You can’t fight him. He’s an ancient demon.” The prisoner didn’t listen. He fought harder. Turning, he swung his makeshift stake at the demon’s head. This time, the demon miscalculated and didn’t move quickly enough. The wood smashed into the side of his head, and the giant demon staggered.
“Oh hell.” Anna raised her stake and rushed to join the fight. She kicked Voltar in the chest. He grinned, and his thick arm snaked out and grabbed her foot. Dancing for balance, she drove her stake at his chest, but it barely stuck. He growled and removed the stake while still holding her foot. The prisoner lunged at Voltar, breaking his hold on Anna. She fell to the floor, watching as the demon wrapped both massive arms around the prisoner, trapping him. The prisoner fought with his feet and forehead, butting Voltar in the chin. The demon opened his mouth wide and sank sharp teeth into the prisoner’s shoulder. Then he flung him away with a swipe of his claws.
There was a scraping sound behind her and a familiar roar. A man burst out of a small door in the wall. His clothes were tattered, hair and eyes wild. Most of his face was covered by a beard. The hybrid.
The next sequence happened as if she watched from outside her body. The hybrid rushed at Voltar, moving as fast as a vampire. The two sprang together in a clash of claws, fists, and teeth. Anna rushed to the prisoner. He lay on the floor, his shirt drenched in blood from his shoulder and his stomach. She pressed her hands to his wound. At this rate, he would bleed out. Just feet away, Voltar and the hybrid were locked in vicious combat. The hybrid picked Voltar up and threw him across the room. Then he approached Anna. She stood and faced him, ready to fight if she must. But the hybrid didn’t attack.
“Take him and go,” he said, shoving something cold into her hand. “Second door on the left.” His eyes flashed, and a memory tried to surface in Anna’s mind. The hybrid went to the prisoner and bent over him. Before Anna could even move to defend him, the hybrid rose and hurried back to the demon, who had risen to his feet with a terrible roar.
Two talismans lay in her palm where the hybrid had placed them. Hers and another. It must be the prisoner’s. Why would the hybrid help them? The memory tried to resurface again, but there wasn’t time to sort it out. She bent down next to the prisoner and noticed blood at the corner of his mouth. Was he hemorrhaging? She put her talisman on and slipped the other one over his head. If it wasn’t his, she would have hell to pay from the Council. Talismans were sacred. And dangerous.
“You’ve got to get up,” she said, shaking him.
He roused, and she helped him to his feet as Voltar and the hybrid hissed and clawed at each other across the room. Panting, Anna dragged him toward the secret door. With one arm around her shoulder, the two of them scuffled through the passageway. It was black inside, and it took all Anna’s vision to make out the walls. She had no idea where the passage led, but if it didn’t lead somewhere fast, he would die.
Second door on the left. She dragged one hand along the wall at shoulder height, feeling for something that might indicate a door. Neither of them spoke. The prisoner’s breath was shallow. It was a wonder he was alive after taking on an ancient demon. That meant death, unless the demon was assigned. What about her? She’d battled him too, though not as fiercely as the prisoner. She wasn’t at her best, but she didn’t feel like she was dying.
After several minutes, the mustiness of the passageway changed, and she got a whiff of fresher air. She felt a bump on the wall and found the first door. She continued, praying the hybrid hadn’t lied.
“There’s the door. Hold on.” Don’t die on me. She found the catch. The stone grated as the door opened, and they stumbled into the dark night.
“This is the side of the fortress. We have to get to the front. My car is hidden outside the veil.” She needed to get him to a hospital, but they would ask questions she couldn’t answer. The Albany castle had an infirmary and warriors to help, but she couldn’t risk Voltar or Tristol following them to the castle. The clan hoped to keep its use secret. Then again, it was cloaked like Tristol’s fortress, so he probably knew its location already. He’d probably cloaked the bloody thing himself, unless cloaking was something all the ancient demons could do. That could help explain why the ancients were so adept at avoiding capture, or even being seen.
“Car?” His voice was thick.
They moved unchallenged to the front. No one tried to stop them, but the stench of demons was strong. Had they left anyone alive? The only sound came from the other side of the fortress. Snarls and howls. The guard dogs must have something cornered. She hadn’t seen them, but they sounded big and fierce. When they got within view of the gates, Anna saw the stone wolves were gone, and the growling sounds were moving this way.
“Oh my God. Run!” She hurried toward the fence, half dragging the prisoner. She glanced back and saw the massive creatures, not stone now, but flesh and blood, eyes red, long fangs snapping like hellhounds.
“They smell my blood,” the prisoner said, pulling free. “Go on without me.” The wolves were only a hundred yards away.
“No.” She grabbed his arm and yanked. “You’re not dying on me now.” But she knew as injured as the prisoner was, the wolves would catch them before they cleared the fence.
She needn’t have worried. The iron gates stood open. They ran through and kept on running. When Anna glanced back, the fortress was gone, though the snarling continued. The wolves didn’t follow. Maybe they couldn’t move past the veil.
By the time they reached the car, she was slumped under the prisoner’s weight and sweating with exhaustion and fear.
“Not again,” the prisoner muttered, looking at the car.
“What?”
“I’ve been in one of these before.”
Anna heard a roar behind them, but this didn’t sound like the wolves. Voltar? Tristol? Whatever it was, they needed to get out of here now. She quickly helped the prisoner inside and reclined his seat since it seemed questionable how long he could remain sitting. Then she hurried around to the other side, started the car, and threw it into gear.
With one eye on the mirror, she raced away from the fortress. Even lying down, the prisoner bounced around so much Anna was afraid he’d hit his head on the door and that would finish him off. Holding the steering wheel with one hand, she leaned across him and buckled his seatbelt. Her tires squealed as she hit pavement, and the prisoner fell against the door.
She grabbed his hand. “It’s okay. I’m taking you somewhere safe. Try to rest.” And stop bleeding.
His eyes closed, and his body slumped. Anna felt his pulse. Not as weak as she had expected, but he still needed a doctor. If they didn’t get away from their pursuers, she was afraid they’d need an undertaker. Bree’s house was closer. She could call Tomas, the medic, and have him and the other warriors meet her there. She had to warn the clan about Tristol and Voltar. If they didn’t already know. Were the demons working together or against each other? The vampires at Tristol’s fortress hadn’t seemed like intruders. Everything was insane. Was this how the apocalypse would go down? The world destroyed by a battle between vampires and demons. Or would humans have to fight both?
She glanced at the prisoner again, strong legs covered to the knee by his kilt, his shirt soaked in blood. Why were two ancient demons so desperate to get him?
She found a wad of napkins from a fast-food drive-through and pushed them against his wound. It was up to her to keep him alive. Because if he was who she thought he was, then no one was looking for him.
* * *
Of all the Seekers,he had to be stuck with this one. Arrogant prick.
“Keep up,” the baldheaded man said.
Most Seekers were bald for some reason Ronan had never figured out. Maybe their heads couldn’t find lost things and grow hair at the same time. But not all of them were so bad-tempered. Probably overcompensating for his lack of height. He was a full head shorter than Ronan.
“I’m on your bloody heels,” Ronan said, tempted to move past him and really piss him off. Seekers hated it when someone went ahead of them. They’d found Anna’s car parked on a side road in the middle of nowhere. It was already dark, not the best time to search, but it was the only time this Seeker had open, else they’d have to wait another day for another Seeker to arrive. “Are you certain she’s here?” Perhaps she left her car here and rode with someone else.
“She’s close by. Can you take it from here?” the Seeker asked. He seemed anxious to leave.
Was he kidding? This was his job. To find people. Find things. “Sure.” Asshole. He’d find Anna himself, now that he had a starting point.
After the Seeker drove off, Ronan picked up a woman’s tracks. They must be Anna’s, assuming the Seeker was right about her location. The footprints were no more than a couple of days old. What was she doing in the middle of the woods? Had she trailed a demon here?
A sense of urgency caused him to move faster. He was running when he slammed into something hard. He hit the ground and lay there winded, staring at the stars in the night sky. His arm felt like it was broken. He looked down to see if it was bleeding, but it wasn’t even there. Half his body was missing. Not again! He pulled his legs back and slowly poked his head through the veil. Gargoyles were mounted on either side of iron gates. Why have gates when the whole bloody place was cloaked?
There were demons here. He could smell them. Pulling his sword from its sheath, he extended it. The soft metallic ring sounded loud against the quiet of night. He crept through the open gates. Massive stone wolves lined the inside of the iron fence. Behind them stood a tall fortress. Cloaked, just like the Albany castle. A shiver ran up his back. Two cloaked structures just miles apart? What were the chances of that?
Crouching beside the stone wolf, he studied the place, trying to determine the best way to get inside. The fortress was tall with lots of windows. He’d have to use one of them if he couldn’t find another way in. He wasn’t about to knock on the door and see if Anna was a guest.
He heard a sound behind him, like ice cracking on his mountain lake in the spring thaw. Warm air touched his neck, and he turned. The stone wolf stared at him. Its eyes were red. Ronan blinked, and the wolf blinked back. Its teeth were bared, haunches turning from stone to fur. “Holy—” He jumped aside as the wolf sprang. Its shoulder caught him, knocking him down. Rolling to his feet, he lifted his sword and faced the snarling beast. It was huge, eyes level with his. There was no way he could outrun it.
Ronan waited until it leaped at him, and he drove his sword into the beast’s heart. It shattered in mid-air and four hundred pounds of crumbling stone rained down on him.
The cracking sound started again. The eyes of the next wolf turned from stone to dull red. Ronan’s whole body hurt, and it took all his strength to shove the stones aside. He leapt to his feet a second before a giant paw smashed down where his head had been. Time to go.
He could feel the wolf behind him as he sprinted toward a tree. He swung himself up onto a branch and scrambled higher as the wolf leapt, teeth gnashing as it tried to reach him. Several others joined the hunt, snapping and snarling as they circled the tree. If only he had his bow. He judged the distance to the nearest balcony. Could he jump that far? Before he could test his agility, the wolves put their noses to the air and ran off. They’d scented someone else to torment. He crouched on the tree limb, pitying whatever they’d targeted. Dropping, he landed on his feet and hurried toward the fortress. He had to find Anna. He didn’t know what she was doing here, but it wasn’t likely that she was here by choice. Not with that hairy welcoming party.
The front door stood open. That in itself was alarming, even if he hadn’t just been nearly eaten by monster wolves. He didn’t hear anything inside. Holding his sword ready, he spun and entered. There were piles of ashes everywhere. Like the ones in the battle with Druan. Vampires. What the hell had happened here? Anna was tough, but she couldn’t have killed all these vampires alone. Maybe the wolves? A dead demon lay near the staircase. Not Anna’s work. A demon would have disappeared if a warrior killed it. His blood started to pump harder. Bree said Anna was in danger. Was he too late? The wolves—maybe they had been after her. He rushed back to the door as he called the castle for backup. The wolves had turned to stone again. Whatever they were chasing had gotten away, or had they caught their prey? Anna might still be here. Someone was. He could feel eyes watching him.
Piles of ashes littered the wide staircase leading from the first floor. He followed the trail to the second floor and stepped over a pile of demon guts. The third floor had more ashes than dead bodies. The vampires had lost this fight. At the end of one room, he saw a shattered door and found a room that had clearly been the site of a battle. Furniture had been smashed and things toppled off shelves. The place was filled with emeralds.
He knew he was still being watched, but the only thing he saw was a life-size portrait of a woman in a mirror. He continued his search while waiting for the others to arrive. If Anna was captive here, she might be in the dungeon.
He found more dead vampires and a few demons as he made his way down. It was nicer here than the living quarters of some castles he’d visited, and many he’d broken into, but its purpose was obvious the farther he went. He found a room filled with instruments of torture. Blood still stained the floor. He sniffed. Not Anna’s. After the vampire bite two years ago, his sense of smell was even stronger. He healed faster, moved quicker.
Still searching, he found cells with shackles on the walls and floors, and in the deepest bowels of the dungeon was a room where someone had lived. The door was open. Inside was an unmade bed, a toilet, and a sink. There was something about the room, a smell, a feel, that made him sick to his stomach.
He wanted out of this place. Since he hadn’t been attacked so far, he ignored stealth and called Anna’s name. There was no answer. The Seeker was certain she was here. Where was she?
The wolves. She must have drawn them away.
* * *
The woman lookedat the desecration. Tristol would be furious. All his hard work destroyed, and by Voltar, one of the League. She’d never liked any of them. Traitorous backstabbing bastards. But Voltar was the worst. Even Tristol considered him an enemy. She would have killed him, but she’d only arrived in time to see him fling the hybrid aside and run from the castle.
Her gaze fell on the hybrid, who was standing in the shadow of a statue. Another enemy, but Tristol deserved to be hated by this one. He’d stolen everything from the hybrid. There was hopeless look on his face as he watched the handsome warrior at the bottom of the stairs. When the warrior walked to the door, the hybrid started forward, then stopped. His shoulders slumped, and he dropped to the floor as if his legs had been cut away. He put his head in his hands, and she heard a raw, wounded cry. The kind of cry that only came when you were alone and thought no one listened.
Her own eyes grew damp. He was bloody and bruised, would probably die from his injuries if she didn’t kill him on Tristol’s behalf. But something stopped her. Instead, she moved back to the emerald room. Nearly everything here had been destroyed from the battle. She moved in front of the mirror and touched the markings on the side. She closed her eyes, questioning her own sanity as the whirring began.
* * *
Ronan stepped outside the fortress,disturbed in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just Anna. Something else was wrong. He felt like stone, like one of those wolves. And there they were, still lined up, cold and hard, as if he’d just dreamed that not an hour ago, they’d been trying to rip him apart.
He quickly checked the outside of the castle, praying they hadn’t gotten Anna, but he didn’t find any bodies. He did find footprints. Two sets. A woman and a man. The man was barefoot and limping. Ronan saw a drop of blood. The man was injured. Who was he? Had they gotten away?
He ran through the gates to see if her car was still there. He stepped on the other side of the veil and heard a whirring sound like a windstorm or a helicopter. But the other warriors couldn’t have arrived this quickly. He looked up but didn’t see anything.
He stuck his head back through the veil to see if it was something on that side.
The fortress and the stone wolves had disappeared.