“Any chance he just might manage to do himself in?” I was pretty sure of the answer, but we could only hope.
Carter shook his head, though. “No, Shadow Wing is more likely to—as the humans put it—go postal, rather than take himself out. And this defeat seems to have strengthened that mania. If he were just off-kilter, it might play into our advantage, but he’s also angry beyond the scope of the word. But that’s not the most troublesome piece of news tonight.”
I steeled myself. We’d had more than enough bad news lately. “So what is it? Just hit us with it. I hate dragging out the inevitable.”
Carter shifted, looking uncomfortable. “A Degath Squad was seen gating out of the Subterranean Realms this morning. As of today, there are three very powerful demons running around here in Seattle. Somebody was strong enough to gate them in, but we have no clue who. I’m betting it’s a revenge mission rather than him searching for the last spirit seal. And I’m guessing his targets? The three of you girls.”
Chapter 9
It had all started with a Degath Squad. And after we managed to dispatch that trio of demons, we had fought demon generals till they were coming out our ears. We had even fought a god whom Shadow Wing had managed to impress into his service. But every time, they had been looking for the spirit seals and we had just been in the way.
This time? It was personal. And that fact sent a ripple of fear through me. It was easy to see that Camille and Delilah were feeling the same way. Besides the threat to ourselves, personal revenge all too often meant collateral damage, and we had lost enough friends through the years.
As we sat there, soaking up the information, Roxy, one of Carter’s cats, came dashing through, then climbed on Delilah’s lap and began kneading her jeans. She absently stroked it, then handed the gorgeous Aegean to Camille, who tucked the white cat to her chest and kissed her head. Lara, the other cat—a black-and-white Aegean and Roxy’s sister—peeked out from behind the curtain that partitioned off Carter’s back rooms from the living room area.
A moment later, Delilah let out a long sigh and leaned forward. “All right, we have a Degath Squad on our back. Do we know what kind of demons they are?”
“I can field that one.” Trytian stretched out in his chair, his legs long, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He was actually pretty hot, in a dangerous sort of way, but his personality killed the attraction. “Our source who witnessed the gating said that one of them is a Naedaran, one is a Shelakig, and one is a Varcont.”
None of them rang any bells. I looked at the others, who shook their heads. “Okay, do you perhaps have a rundown on what they are and what they can do?”
Carter picked up the packet of papers he had set on the table and began handing them around. I glanced over the sheets. There were three, stapled together, and each page held a description of one of the demons. If there was one thing we could count on the demigod for, it was to provide us a detailed dossier on our targets whenever he could possibly do so.
“You can read the details in a bit, but I’ll give you a quick rundown. Naedarans are six feet tall. The body’s basically a spongy ball of flesh on one leg, with a central eye and a mouth that can devour a human in two bites. They have arms, with three long taloned fingers, and do not let the one-legged status fool you. They can hop faster than most people can run.”
“That sounds like a Fachan,” Camille said. “Scottish Fae. Nasty sort.”
“Perhaps it’s an offshoot, but this is far more dangerous, trust me.” Carter frowned. “The second demon—the Shelakig—is basically a giant scorpion. Except, rather than the venom only being injected through its aculeus, it’s also present in its pincers, which contain a series of serrated edges.”
“And how big is the Shelakig?” Trillian sounded as overjoyed as the rest of us looked.
“I’d estimate a good eight feet long, with the tail curving about four feet high. I’ve never seen one of these; it would be fascinating to dissect one and discover how like their nondemonic lookalikes they are.” Carter sounded so matter-of-fact that I felt like smacking him.
“Don’t sound so excited about it, okay? This isn’t a biology class,” I grumbled, but when he flicked a confused look at me, I just gave him a mute shrug.
“I happen to find the study of demonology interesting, so deal with it.” I almost missed the playful grin behind the jab, but then he flashed us a smile. “Even I can make a joke now and then.”
“So we have a one-legged mouth, a giant scorpion—and I assume the venom is deadly?” Smoky glared at Trytian, who was once again openly staring at Camille’s boobs.
“The venom will dissolve flesh on contact, a lot like a hellhound’s acidic bite.” Carter flipped to the third page. “Trytian, eyes off the woman unless you want me to let her husband take you apart.”
Trytian snorted but returned his gaze to the sheaf of papers.
“Now the third demon is the most problematic. The Varcont. This one is most dangerous in the fact that he is humanoid. He’ll look like any regular man, except for the red eyes.” Carter looked up. “In a sense, he will look like any vampire who might be a little pissed off. In fact, he’s very much like a vampire, seeing that vampires are considered, to be blunt, minor demons.” He gave me an apologetic look.
“I know what I am, don’t sweat it.”
“So a Varcont is a vampire?”
“A most dangerous one. Think vampire on steroids. He can walk under the sun, fire does not burn him, and the only thing that can destroy him is a silver stake directly through the heart. He can bring almost any younger vampire under his control, unless their sire is . . . well . . . one such as Roman—or like Dredge was. And the vampire glamour? They have it in spades.”
I froze. “He’s worse than Dredge was, isn’t he?”
Carter caught my gaze and his expression softened. “I’m sorry, Menolly, but yes, he is. Varconts make Dredge look like a rookie.”
The silence that followed echoed through the room. I could hear the sounds of everyone breathing, and I knew that my sisters were afraid by the shallow rise and fall of their breath. I had gotten pretty good at reading feelings through breath patterns, and right now I could tell that Smoky and Shade were thinking fast and furious. Trillian was processing. Vanzir and Roz were pissed. And Trytian? Was staring right at me. He shook his head ever so slightly when I met his gaze, and I could see the worry lines crinkling his forehead. Trytian was impulsive, and he was given to an overaggressive ego, so for him to be worried told me that Carter’s impassive explanations were, if anything, on the conservative side.
“So what do we do?” I broke the silence.
“Is there any clue as to who gated them over?” Camille studied the packet of information, as if it could magically tell her who was out there playing with a Demon Gate. “I don’t think we’re going to get lucky and find out that it’s some college kid who accidentally stumbled onto the spell this time.”
“Yeah, this is no Harold Young situation.” I racked my brain, trying to figure out just who Shadow Wing could be using over here. “Van and Jaycee are dead. It can’t be them. Wilbur—he might be able to give us some ideas. He’s a sorcerer.”
Our mountain-man neighbor had bad manners, an even worse attitude, and a penchant for grabbing women’s asses, but he was also a powerful sorcerer. And, even with only one leg, he could stand up to one hell of a nasty opponent. We had a love-hate relationship with him, but he always seemed to come through for us.
“Good idea. We’ll pay him a visit and find out what he knows.”
“We haven’t talked to him or seen Martin for a while.” I grinned then. Martin had become a running joke, though the origins of the ghoul were less than funny. Wilbur had reanimated his brother’s corpse, unable to let him go to cancer, and Martin was like his pet dog. They watched Jeopardy together, they hung out together, and sometimes I wondered i
f Wilbur ever suspected that Martin’s spirit was watching over him. Delilah had discovered that a couple of months ago.
“So . . . the fact that two of these three look like monsters means that if they start running around the streets of Seattle, somebody is going to notice them. That probably indicates that whoever gated them over has both a way of hiding them and the transportation to fit them. What would fit an eight-foot-long demonic scorpion?” Morio tossed his dossier on the table. “The Shelakig isn’t going to be riding around in the back of a sedan. Or even a van, I think.”
“Flatbed truck is out unless the demon held perfectly still, like some giant figurine for an amusement park or some show or something. Maybe a moving van? One of the shorter ones?” It would be ridiculous, though, to expect to track down every short-bed moving van that had been rented out in the past day or two. And we couldn’t very well stop every truck we saw on the street and commandeer a look into the cargo hold.
“Another question. Can either the Shelakig or the Naedaran shift into human form?” Camille asked.
Carter shook his head. “No, and even if they were given the illusion, the Shelakig’s body is just too massive to fit in that small a space. You can’t mask one of those suckers up as Joe Schmoe and expect the illusion to work. Now, the Naedaran, you could glamour up and have it work until the thing attacked.”
“So the Varcont and the Naedaran can theoretically meander around the streets of Seattle without being noticed, which means trouble.” I thought for another moment. “Trytian, do you have any idea where they might be hiding? Even remote theories?”
He shook his head. “Not yet, but I have feelers out in the Demon Underground. Vanzir, you might head down there and ask around. There are factions there who like you, but who can’t stand me. No harm in covering the same base twice from different angles. Meanwhile, my father is preparing to make a run on Shadow Wing in the next couple of weeks. He’s amassed an army of discontents, and he figures now is as good a time as any to attack, given that the Demon Lord isn’t expecting anybody from inside his own realm to take him on.”
Once again, silence.
Another beat, and then Carter slowly said, “Is he sure this is the time?”
Trytian shrugged. “My old man does what he does and nobody is going to dissuade him, that I will tell you right now. He’s waited a long time for this moment, and he expects me to be in the thick of things with him, which means I have to head down there after we finish talking.” Another pause. “It also means I’m likely not to return, given the fury with which Shadow Wing can retaliate. But I am my father’s son, and I will march into battle with him.”
We stared at the daemon, and for the first time, I felt a measure of respect for him. He had been a pain in our ass for so long that I had gotten quite used to fielding the monkey wrenches he threw into the mix. But when I thought about it, I realized that he would—at the least—listen to reason.
“Are you sure?” Carter seemed to be thinking along the same lines I was. “This could be suicide.”
“Well, if I’m going to go out, then I might as well go out in a blaze of glory. We have to stop Shadow Wing—the more insane he gets, the more he’s going to try to unravel everything that holds the realms in their place. And while he may or may not be able to accomplish it, the last thing we need is for him to try.” And with that, Trytian stood and headed for the door.
Camille shifted in her seat, then jumped up and followed him. “Trytian . . .”
He turned, a look of surprise in his glittering eyes. “Yeah?”
She darted in, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “For luck.”
He grunted softly, then pulled her to him and kissed her long and deep. Smoky and Morio glowered, but Trillian just let out a soft laugh. He knew his wife.
Camille pulled away as Trytian slapped her on the ass.
She smacked him lightly on the arm. “Get out of here. Go join the army. Just don’t die. We need daemons we can reason with in the Sub-Realms.”
He saluted the room, and then—before we could say another word—the door closed behind him.
“He’s going to his death.” Vanzir shook his head. “But I admire him for it. He’s right, though, there are those in the Demon Underground who wouldn’t take food from him if they were starving, but who will talk to me. I’ll head down there now and see what I can find out.”
The Demon Underground was an actual place. When I first heard of it, I had thought it was more like the Underground Railroad the humans had formed to secret slaves out of their bondage, but the Demon Underground was exactly what it sounded like. A network of tunnels that shot off from the Underground Seattle area led to a secret passage, which in turn descended into a vast labyrinth of caverns that made up the Demon Underground.
Ever since Shadow Wing had taken over, a number of demons and daemons had fled the Sub-Realms, coming Earthside however they could gain entrance—which wasn’t easy. But for those who managed it, they had taken up residence in the Demon Underground and mostly stayed there, minding their own business.
After Vanzir left, the rest of us just stared at one another, unsure of what to say. A Degath Squad on our tails, out for revenge. Shadow Wing was up to something with his faux Knights. Trytian’s father was about to wage war on the Demon Lord.
And we? We were poised on what was beginning to feel like a pivotal moment in history.
Camille’s phone rang. She frowned, then answered. A moment later, she moved off to one side. I decided to use the time to call Nerissa. She told me she was at home, waiting for us. She and Chase had managed to set up a watch over the Supe Community Hall, just in case some bright nitwit got it into his head to go back and bomb the place.
The others were nibbling on the remains of the tea cakes when Camille returned. “I just put in a call to Vanzir. He’ll have to make his trip to the Demon Underground later. Right now both he and I have been summoned out to Talamh Lonrach Oll.” She yawned, trying to stifle it but unable to mask how tired she was. “Hell, I don’t feel like going out there tonight but I can’t say no.”
“Do you know what Aeval wants?” Delilah caught my eye, as if she sensed something was wrong.
“No, but she was insistent that I get my ass out there. I’ll pick up Vanzir on the way. Morio, you’re to come with me. Smoky and Trillian, can you two catch a ride home with Delilah?”
The catch in her voice told me something was up. “Are you sure everything’s all right?”
Camille shook her head. “I don’t know. Aeval just said she has some important news for me, and that Vanzir also needs to be there. I am a little concerned, especially since she wants Morio out there with me. But we won’t find out what’s up by just standing here. Come on, I can’t keep her waiting. She said it won’t take all night, so we’ll be home as soon as we can.”
Both the Fae Queen of Shadow and Night and the Fae Queen of Light and Morning were scary-ass women. And Aeval and Titania had decided, on the suicide of our distant cousin Morgaine—who had been the Queen of Dusk and Twilight—that Camille would succeed her and take the throne. Also the first Earthside High Priestess of the Moon Mother, our sister had a long and arduous road ahead of her.
“Go. Be safe. Call us if you’re going to be out there all night so we don’t worry.” Delilah waved her off.
I let out a sigh. We were done here, it seemed. “I guess we’d all better head out. I think we’re just treading water right now.” I turned to Carter. “Keep us informed of anything you learn, and we’ll do the same.”
He stood, walking us to the door. “Be cautious, all of you. Revenge is a lot more personal than just making a grab for the spirit seals. Shadow Wing has you on his personal scope. And mad or not, he’s a very powerful and dangerous enemy.”
And with that, he shut the door behind us. As we headed to our respective cars—Trillian opted to ride with me, while
Smoky went with Delilah and Shade—the night felt filled with prying eyes and unseen dangers. I shivered as I unlocked my car. Unfortunately, I was getting used to the feeling of being terribly, terribly vulnerable.
* * *
By the time we reached home, Delilah was tuckered out.
“I don’t want to go to bed yet, though, because I want to know what’s happening at Talamh Lonrach Oll.” She yawned and poked in the kitchen, looking for a package of Cheetos. Shade found an open bag and handed it to her.
“Then rest on the sofa in the living room. We need some down time, Degath Squad or not. After the assault on Trenyth, we just need a breather. Or rather—you need a breather, given me . . . the vamp thing, you know.” It was a lame joke, yes, but she laughed like I’d just won an award on Stand-Up Central. Maybe we were all punchier than we wanted to believe.
I followed the others into the living room. Nerissa was there, curled up in one of the chairs, dozing. She woke as I entered the room, giving me a drowsy kiss.
“Chase gave me tomorrow off. So I decided to stay up and wait for you.” She scrunched over, making room for me in the oversized chair. I snuggled in with her, leaning my head on her shoulder.
Shade and Delilah curled up in the love seat. Smoky took one of the armchairs, and Trillian settled into the rocker. Rozurial stretched out on the sofa. Another moment and Hanna entered the room with a tray full of goodies. I was about to say that Carter had already handed out snacks, but at the rush for her cookies and tartlets, I shut my mouth. Trillian took the tray from her and set it on the coffee table, and the others, their treasure procured, returned to their seats.
“You want me to bring Maggie in? She’s been missing you fiercely, with all the time we’ve had to spend away due to the goblin insurgents.”
“Please do, Hanna. We’ve missed her, too. Camille and Vanzir will be home . . . well, I guess when they get home. They had to make a trip out to the Fae Sovereign Nation.”