Chapter 15
“Hey,” Duncan said.
“Damnation. Is the whole clan here?” Tavis asked. This was as bad as having Faelan and Ian sticking their noses in his business.
“Just us,” Duncan said. “What’s the plan? Lance says he was going to take you to Anna, and that you were going to kill Voltar. That’s insane since Voltar is an ancient demon, but I assume you lied to find Anna.”
“I didn’t lie. I was assigned to destroy Voltar before I went into the time vault.”
“Hell,” Duncan said.
Shane shook his head. “You’re not strong enough to fight him yet.”
“I have to get Anna.”
“Is there something we should know?” Duncan asked.
“No.”
“If there is you might want to let the clan know,” Duncan said.
Shane cleared his throat. “People in glass houses and all that.”
Whatever he meant made Duncan scowl. “We’re going, too.”
“You’re as stubborn as Ian,” Tavis said.
“He’s descended from Ian,” Shane said.
Tavis frowned. “This won’t work with all of us here.”
Duncan reached down and took off the shackles, which had a paralyzing effect on a demon. Lance jumped back, his eyes wide.
“Lance, that’s right, isn’t it?” Duncan asked, and Lance nodded. “This is how it’s going to happen. You can lead us all to Anna, and we’ll get rid of Voltar.” Duncan pulled in a breath. “Or we’ll kill you now and let our Seeker find Anna.”
Lance darted glances from one to the other. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
“You’ll just have to trust us,” Tavis said. “Where is Anna?”
“She’s at Voltar’s penthouse.”
“Penthouse?” Duncan said. “Finally, a demon without a castle or a fortress.”
“Refreshing,” Shane said. “Where is it?”
“New York City,” Lance said.
“I hate the city,” Duncan said. “We’ll take the small plane.”
“What about him?” Shane asked, nodding toward Lance, who looked like he might piss himself.
“We’ll blindfold him,” Duncan said. “Where’re your keys, Lance? I’m driving.”
Lance shakily handed over his keys.
“We’ll leave his car at the castle and let them check it out,” Duncan said. “We might find out more about his plans.”
“Ronan’s coming too,” Shane said to Duncan. “He’s following in his car.”
“Good. Tell him to meet us at the castle. We’ll load up on weapons.”
Duncan put the shackles back on Lance. Shane blindfolded the demon and shoved him in the back seat of Lance’s Ford. Shane and Tavis sat on either side, keeping an eye on him while Duncan drove. They passed another road, and a car pulled out behind them.
“There’s Ronan,” Shane said.
Duncan picked up the strange box with lights and buttons again. A cellphone, he’d called it. “Ronan,” he said, and Tavis heard Ronan’s voice coming from the box. “Shane and I are going with you. We’re in Lance’s car.”
“Good. The more of us there are, the less likely Faelan is to kill us.”
“If we come back with news that Voltar’s dead, that’ll temper his anger,” Duncan said. “Tavis told you Michael assigned Voltar to him?”
“Yeah. Where are we going?” Ronan asked.
“Lance says Voltar has a penthouse in the city.”
“A penthouse?”
“Yep, a penthouse,” Duncan said, steering Lance’s car with one hand, which was making Tavis nervous. These vehicles went too fast as is. “Call the castle and see if Lachlan’s there. If he can take us, tell him to get the plane ready and loaded with weapons.”
“Will do,” Ronan said. “See if you can get any information out of Lance without taking the shackles off.”
Shane shook Lance a few times and got him out of his stupor long enough to give them an address for Voltar. Then they stopped by the castle to pick up weapons and to meet Lachlan. The Albany castle, the clan called it now. Nigel had once lived there, and then the League of Demons had taken it. Druan had called it home until he was destroyed. Now the clan had taken it over for their own use.
The castle was still cloaked, just as it had been when Tavis and Ian were here over a century ago. It still felt just as strange to see something so big appear out of nowhere. The exterior looked the same as it had when he and Ian sneaked in and stole the Book of Battles. Though it hadn’t had all these modern vehicles surrounding it.
Tavis didn’t go inside. They were in a hurry and didn’t want the Council finding out what they were doing. They were supposed to be informed whenever a warrior battled an ancient demon.
Duncan drove around to the back to a large road with the strangest looking vehicle Tavis had seen. It looked like a bird. “What is that?”
“That’s an airplane,” Duncan said.
“What’s an air… plane?”
Duncan and Shane looked at each other. “You think he’s like his brother?” Shane whispered.
Tavis had no idea what they were talking about, and they never explained, because a dark-haired man ran up to meet them. He had one of those faces like Ronan’s, the kind that made women blush.
“Damn, he does look like Faelan. I’m Lachlan, Cody’s brother. Welcome home.” He showed them a compartment in the airplane that was loaded with weapons, some that Tavis had never seen. “You can use this,” Lachlan said, showing him a dagger. “Push this,” he demonstrated, “and it becomes a sword.”
“Damnation.”
“He even talks like him,” Lachlan said.
“A lot different than what we had,” Tavis said. But after it expanded, the sword had the same feel. “Do demons still fight with swords?”
“The ones who need weapons usually do. But some use more sophisticated equipment,” Shane said. “It pays to be well armed.”
“There’s not a demon out there who’s quicker than Shane with a sword,” Duncan said. “He’s fast as lightning. Cuts their heads off before they see him swing the blade.”
Shane just shrugged. After a brief conversation, they took Lance—still blindfolded and shackled—to the airplane. They put him in a seat and put a strap around him. A seatbelt.
“Grab a seat,” Ronan said.
Tavis sat down near a window, looking around the space in awe. The inside was much larger than a car. He felt more comfortable in this.
Duncan, Ronan, and Shane found seats while Lachlan walked to the front.
“This isn’t like the other cars I’ve seen,” Tavis said.
“Car?” Ronan said, lifting a brow.
The others looked guilty. “We weren’t sure whether to tell him or not. Sometimes fear of the unknown is the worst part.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Tavis asked.
“This isn’t a car,” Ronan said. “It’s an airplane. It flies.”
“Flies?”
Ronan moved his hand in front of him. “In the air.”
“Like a balloon?” Tavis asked.
“Yeah,” Duncan said, nodding his head. “Like a hot air balloon.” His voice lowered. “Just a little faster.”
After the airplane took flight and Tavis’s stomach had settled back into place, he glanced at the others, who were watching him with curious expressions. “You could have warned me.”
“Your brother hates airplanes,” Duncan said. “We were afraid you’d feel the same, and we don’t have time to waste convincing you. Driving by car would take too long.”
After Tavis got over the shock of flying higher than a bird, he found himself enjoying the ride. While they flew—which he decided he quite liked—they educated him on all the wonders of this age, until Tavis’s head was near bursting with all the knowledge he’d learned.
“I hope this weasel isn’t lying about Anna,” Ronan said as they neared the airport.
“Even if she’s not there, we can get rid of Voltar,” Tavis said.
“Your ship docked in New York City when you came for Faelan, didn’t it?” Duncan asked.
“Aye.”
“You’re in for a surprise. New York’s changed while you slept. That’s it down there.”
Night was falling, and the scene below him was brighter than thousands of stars on a clear winter night. “It’s beautiful.”
“Not from the ground,” Duncan said. “Down there it’s a madhouse of taxis and noise and evil. Demons love the city.”
“They did back in my day too.”
The airplane landed in a private terminal at JFK airport. Tavis’s stomach was a little out of sorts. A large car was waiting for them. A rental, Duncan said. They quickly transferred the weapons to the car and loaded up. Again, Tavis and Shane sat with Lance, keeping a close eye on him, and Ronan and Lachlan sat in the last row of seats.
Tavis was stunned at the size of the city, the buildings and vehicles. And the number of people on the streets. “And I thought it was busy when I was here! Where do all these people live?”
“Up there,” Duncan said, pointing to buildings as tall as mountains.
“How can we find Voltar in a place like this?”
“We have his address.” Duncan pointed to a lighted box in the front of the car. “GPS will take us straight to his penthouse.”
Was there any convenience humans hadn’t engineered?
“Looks like a nightclub,” Ronan said as they pulled up outside the building. A line of people stood outside wearing the most outlandish dress Tavis had ever seen. Near the door, a man was letting them in one at a time. He looked like a warrior, with wide shoulders and thick arms.
“He probably wants it to look normal,” Shane said. But this was the farthest thing from normal that Tavis could imagine.
Lachlan gave Lance a hard shake. “Is this it?”
Lance half opened his eyes, looked at the scene, nodded, and then fell back against the seat when Lachlan released him.
“He must have a place over the club,” Duncan said.
“Are you certain this is normal?” Tavis asked. “The way they’re dressed?” Or undressed. One girl wore nothing but black tights and some kind of skimpy material over her private parts. Her hair was dark blue.
Lachlan grinned. “This is mild compared to some nightclubs. Not that I go there,” he said when Ronan cocked a brow.
“So how’re we gonna do this?” Ronan asked.
“We need to split up,” Duncan said. “Two of us hit the back, look for a way in. Two of us go in the front. One can stay in the car and keep an eye on the door.”
“I vote for Tavis watching the door,” Ronan said.
“Like hell.” Tavis opened the car door and got out. “I’m going in.” Doors opened quickly, and they all spilled out.
“Great,” Ronan said. “Let the nineteenth-century warrior who’s been sleeping for one-hundred-fifty years go into the nightclub. We’d better all go and make sure he doesn’t behead someone.”
Tavis started toward the crowd of people, flanked by Ronan, Duncan, Shane, and Lachlan. The crowd was thick, and Tavis’s eyes skimmed the people, noting that they were all watching with interest. The women wore bold looks of appreciation, even invitation, looks he’d only seen on the faces of whores. The men looked wary, other than a few who looked as interested as the women. One woman asked if they were members of a rock band. Whatever that was.
“Back of the line,” the big man said as they approached.
“We’re expected,” Ronan said.
The big man looked them over and frowned. “Names?”
Lachlan spoke up. “We’re extra security.”
“He didn’t tell me,” the man said. “Let me make a call.” He reached for his little box. His cellphone.
“That’s not necessary,” Duncan said. “Lance is with us. He’s in the car.”
“Lance.” The guard cursed. “Nobody ever tells me what’s going on. Where is he?”
“I’ll get him,” Duncan said. He walked back to the car and opened the door. The car rocked around in a manner that made Tavis wonder if Duncan was bouncing Lance off the seats, and then Lance exited the car, unshackled. Duncan walked close to Lance as they approached the door. Tavis suspected Duncan was holding him up. It was surprising he could even walk after just having the shackles removed. Duncan leaned down and whispered something to Lance just before they got there, and Lance’s face got pale.
“Steve,” Lance said as he approached the guard. He sounded and looked like he was drunk.
“They’re with you?” the man asked.
Lance’s head bobbed on his neck. “Yesss,” he slurred.
The man frowned and lifted a cord, and they walked inside. The room was filled with people and noise and lights. Tavis capped his hands over his ears and yelled, “What’s that sound?”
“Music,” Ronan yelled back.
Music? That thumping noise? The crowd moved together in unison. When his own body started swaying, he realized they were dancing. If one could call it dancing. Women and men, paired in all manner of shapes and genders, were grinding their hips together. “Damnation,” he said, but the noise drowned him out.
In one corner, away from the bumping and grinding bodies, was a tavern or a pub. People were sitting on stools holding drinks. Tavis was glad Duncan led them in that direction because the music was frighteningly hypnotic.
Behind the bar, a thick man with short hair was serving drinks. He looked up and nodded his head at Lance. Duncan said something to Lance, and he pointed toward the back. The man behind the bar watched as they walked to a set of steps. The music became a muffled roar as they moved farther away. Tavis turned to Lance. “Where is she?”
Lance looked frightened. “On the top floor. There’s an elevator.” Lachlan reached under his coat and pulled a pistol from his belt. He walked over and pushed a button on the wall, and a metal door slid open. Holding the pistol in front of him, he looked inside and nodded. “It’s okay.”
They all stepped inside, but Tavis held back. The room was tiny, not large enough for all of them to stand comfortably.
“It’s an elevator,” Duncan said. “Like stairs, without steps.” Tavis stepped inside, and Shane pushed a button. The floor began to move. Tavis grabbed the wall, and the others grinned. The doors opened and Shane looked out, checked both directions, and motioned for them to follow. This was different than the first floor with all the people and the noise. This had fancy stone floors and walls.
“Which way?” Duncan asked Lance.
“End of hall,” Lance said. He was still moving like a rag doll, but he looked more frightened than ever.
“Is there another way in?” Ronan asked.
“Just the balcony, but it’s a long climb,” Lance said.
“Do you know where he’s keeping Anna?” Lachlan asked. “A bedroom, bathroom, closet?”
“I’m not sure.” Lance looked so scared now that he was trembling. “I’ll wait near the elevator. I don’t want to get in the way.”
“I think he’s lying about Anna—” Ronan didn’t finish his sentence. The door at the end of the hall burst open, and Anna ran out. A roar of angry voices sounded behind her.
Everyone looked like statues for a moment, and then they went into action.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Rescuing you,” Ronan said. “What the hell are you wearing?”
“Who said I needed rescuing?”
“He did,” Ronan said, nodding toward Tavis, who was very confused. Because Anna didn’t look like she needed rescuing. Even though she wore the same indecent dress she’d worn when they escaped from the fortress, she looked strong and fierce.
Her beautiful eyes widened when she saw him. “They found you.”
“He crashed his own funeral,” Ronan said. “But there’s time for that later.”
“Lance said Voltar had taken you,” Tavis said.
“No,” Anna said.
“He must have lied so I would kill Voltar. Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I see you’re healing?”
“Thanks to you.”
She glanced away.
“We can all stand here feeling awkward,” Ronan said, “or we can get the hell out. Whatever’s in there doesn’t sound friendly.”
“Tristol and Voltar,” Anna said. “It’s a long story.” She glanced back at the door. “We’d better leave now. They’re both pissed. And Voltar ordered more demons.” She looked down the hall where Lance waited. “Is that Lance?” Anna’s shoulders squared, and a ferocious look transformed her face.
Lance turned and started running, though it was more like an awkward lurch, since he was still shackled.
“Stop him,” Tavis called.
Anna pulled out her talisman and said, “Cover your eyes.”
“No,” Tavis yelled, but it was too late. The air sizzled and hummed, Anna’s talisman light flashed. Lance vanished in mid stride. “Why did you do that? We needed him to tell us what’s going on with Voltar and Tristol.”
“He wouldn’t tell us anything. He’s only looking out for himself. We’d better get out before they realize we’re here.” She started moving, and they all followed her. “Stairs,” she said, shoving open a door. They pounded down the stairs and came face-to-face with a dozen men holding swords. Not men, demons. The stench was almost painful. Tavis reached for Anna to pull her behind him. She pulled away and kicked the closest demon in the stomach. He fell back against two of his companions.
The fighting was too close to use a talisman here, and there wasn’t time for the warriors to retreat to safety. Tavis pulled his dagger out of his boot and stabbed the demon rushing at him.
“I’ve got the fat one,” Lachlan said, dispatching the demon the moment his sword expanded.
Shane never spoke, he just swung, left, right, blade moving so fast Tavis could barely see it. He almost got scratched by a demon because he was so busy watching. In less than two minutes, the demons had been destroyed.
“We need to hurry,” Anna said. “If Tristol and Voltar don’t kill each other, they’ll be headed this way.”
“We’re parked out front,” Duncan said. “Where are you?”
“I don’t have a car.”
“How did you get here?” Ronan asked.
“With Tristol.”
“Funny,” Ronan said.
“Not really.” Anna didn’t smile.
“How’d you get here?” Duncan said, scowling.
“Seriously, Tristol brought me.”
Duncan frowned, and Tavis was shocked again at how strong the resemblance was to himself and Faelan.
“We’re talking about the same Tristol, right? The ancient demon, Hell’s favorite son and all that?”
“Yes.” She looked nonchalant, but her shiver gave her away.
Ronan grabbed Anna’s shoulders and put his face close to hers.
“Explain.”
Pounding feet sounded on the stairs above them, blending with the thumping music coming from the club. “Later.” She opened a door and stepped into the room where everyone was dancing. “Blend,” she yelled over the music.
Tavis stared at the mass of flesh.
“That means dance your way out of here,” Ronan said.
“I can’t do this.”
“It’s like having sex standing up,” Ronan said, pushing Tavis toward Anna. Ronan inserted himself between two dancing women, who laughed and started doing things to Ronan that people just didn’t do in public.
Tavis looked at Anna. He had no idea how to do this. It wasn’t any kind of dancing he’d known. She glanced at the door, where four men appeared, searching the crowd. They looked human, but they were big. Probably demons in disguise. Anna slid her arms around his waist and pressed her body closer to his. Bollocks. She started swaying her hips, and he moved with her. Ronan was right. It was kind of like having sex standing up. He could feel her skin against his, smell her hair. He started to understand the appeal of the dance.
Over Anna’s head, Tavis saw the other warriors dancing their way toward the entrance. Lachlan was with a woman who resembled a vampire more than some of the vampires in Tristol’s fortress. Duncan was moving swiftly from one partner to the next, barely pretending to dance, and was already near the door. Shane and a woman with short blond hair were pressed together. Shane spun her, and when she circled around, he had moved several feet away near Duncan.
“Hurry,” Anna whispered. “The demons are getting closer.” Tavis and Anna kept moving, pretending to dance, but pushing through the crowd until they reached the other warriors.
“They haven’t spotted us,” Ronan said. “Slip out one at a time.”
“What about Voltar and Tristol?” Tavis said. “We can’t just let them go.”
“If we’re lucky,” Anna said, “they’ll kill each other.”
* * *
“What haveyou done with my fortress?” Tristol roared. “It’s missing.”
“I didn’t do anything with it,” Voltar said. Not with the fortress. He’d done plenty with the vile inhabitants.
“You killed my vampires. Slaughtered them.”
“They were an abomination. You are an abomination. Part vampire, part demon.” Voltar spat. “You sicken me.”
“You’re stuck in the Dark Ages. You should have learned your lesson with that damned minion you had decades ago.”
“He was brilliant,” Voltar said. “One of the few humans worth a damn.”
“He was an animal. He tortured and killed for no reason. You need to wake up and realize that times have changed over these hundreds of years.”
“Hundreds of years for me. Far longer for you. Does the Dark One know you’re two thousand years old? Or have you tricked him too?”
“We will finish this battle,” Tristol said. “If you breathe a word of this to the Dark One, I’ll kill the thing closest to your heart.”
There was nothing close to Voltar’s heart except his desire to kill Tavis. “The warrior? Kill him. I don’t care.”
“Not him,” Tristol said. “Her.”
“A woman close to my heart. I don’t think so.”
Tristol frowned. His face was more beautiful than any woman’s. Maybe that was part of the reason Voltar had hated him for so long, even before he’d known Tristol’s secret. He reminded Voltar of a woman.
“You don’t know,” Tristol said.
“Know what?”
“That you have a daughter.”
“A daughter?” Voltar laughed. “Do you think I would spawn a female? I would kill her first.”
The door opened, and four of Voltar’s demons came in. “Did you know the female warrior was here, Anna?” one of the demons asked. “There were several warriors with her.”
Voltar turned on Tristol. “You brought warriors to my home.” He pulled out a square box. It resembled a stun gun, but this one had been altered by a sorcerer. Voltar hated sorcerers too, but they had their uses at times. He fired the stun gun at Tristol. The current hit him, and Tristol froze. Voltar waited to see if he would move, but he stood there with the same expression on his face, hands and body positioned exactly as they had been a second before. Voltar walked closer and circled his enemy. He didn’t move, didn’t blink or breathe. Voltar laughed.
“It worked. The Dark One’s pet is nothing but a statue. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to kill you and tell the Dark One exactly what you are. He will be quite grateful, I think. And for the record, vampire, I wasn’t the only one spying on you in your fortress. There was another spy right under your nose.”