Crimson Veil (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #15)

Crimson Veil (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #15) Page 37

“I’m not sensing any traps.” Morio reached for the handle. “I’ll bet if there were any, he had to disarm them to make sure nobody who was supposed to be down there set one off by accident.”

That made sense. But I stopped him.

“Let me go first. And Smoky. You get back with Camille and start prepping whatever spells it is you guys prep.”

“We can encircle the group with protection, but that would mean we’d have to take time to regroup if we need to fight.” He glanced around at the others. “You all willing to go in without our force field?”

“Better to have you guys on the offense, rather than worry about a little defense.” Vanzir held up his sword. It was a wicked little number, and it was barbed. When it thrust into someone, the barbs slid in smoothly, then flared out at the push of a button, making the return damned nasty.

With a deep breath, I looked at Smoky. He nodded, and I opened the door.

We found ourselves staring at a steep, spiral stairway. It wasn’t metal—but simple, concrete, spiraling down a pale cream-colored passageway. Brightly lit, it wasn’t at all what you would think of in terms of a hidden passage leading to an underground temple. But then, Lowestar was a pretty classy daemon when it came to style. I doubted he’d want anything remotely gothic. No cobwebs, no dust, no doom-and-gloom stone walls dripping with slime and moisture.

But the trouble with concrete stairs in a stairwell? They’re going to echo, no matter what you do. Still, we did our best to silently make our descent. By what the plans had shown us, there were three flights leading down to the temple area. A level above was used for… well, we didn’t know what the rooms there were used for. But the temple itself was the bottom, and that was where we were headed.

We passed the doorway leading into the floor above the temple, and I paused to press my ear against the door. There were muffled sounds on the other side—not a comforting thought. But we didn’t have time to explore. We were already running near seven thirty. We had half an hour to stop Lowestar from waking up Suvika.

Could he even do it? The question hung in the back of my mind, but the fact was that we just didn’t know. And since we didn’t know, we had to go on the assumption that he probably could. Better to overestimate someone than underestimate their abilities.

And then, turning the bend in the stairwell, I found myself facing a door. It was metal, and had ornate designs etched into it. I stood back, motioning for Morio and Tanne to step down and take a look at it. After a moment, both shook their heads—they didn’t have a clue—and returned to their places in line.

So this was it. According to the blueprints, this door led directly into the temple. And once I opened it, we’d be out of the frying pan, into the fire. And I’d had enough of fire to last me a lifetime.

A soft swish accompanied the opening door. Ready to pounce on the first sign of trouble, Smoky and I took in our surroundings.

The temple was lush—ornate. Marble lined the floor, and the walls were also marble, likely a façade but still beautiful. Ivory with veins of gold, the gleaming stone shimmered in the light of what looked like a thousand candles. I quickly realized they were flameless—no chance of using them to burn up the silk and velvet curtains that lined sections of the walls.

Columns were evenly spaced, Corinthian in design, with coiling, curving metal vines creeping out from their sides. Lush plants—ivy and fern and trailing jasmine—hung from the metal scrollwork, and the air here was vibrant and perfumed, as intoxicating as the sewers had been nauseating.

Near the back of the spacious hall, a tall throne carved in marble sat, its seat lined with what looked to be velvet cushions in gold and brown. Marble benches lined the walls, and an offering font sat in front of the throne, next to a giant altar stone. On the stone, chained with silver chains, lay a woman. Blond hair streamed over her shoulders and she looked still relatively young.

“Were. She’s Were.” Delilah’s whisper met my ears and I nodded. She had to be our virgin. At least they wouldn’t have abused her, needing her virginity intact for the ritual.

Next to the throne stood another marble slab—this one upright. Again, silver chains restrained a muscled young man. He was obviously Fae, and his hair was long and as platinum as Marilyn Monroe’s had been. Only his was natural.

They said nothing. No screams, no pleas, no begging for release. By the expressions on their faces, it was a good bet they were doped up. Here and there, figures in long red robes scurried around, but there was no sign of Lowestar.

Behind the throne, though, was a marble statue. On a plinth that had to be seven feet tall in itself, the statue was life-sized—a very tall man, with streaming hair and wearing what looked like some sort of tunic and trousers.

Before we could be spotted, I motioned for us to move off to the side. We hid behind a nearby column, waiting. For once, we’d gotten in on time, rather than bursting in during the middle of the ritual.

A drumbeat caught my attention and I pulled back even farther, hoping we were all well out of sight, as the doors started to open. Into the room filed two rows of robed figures, all in crimson.

As they passed by, they didn’t seem to be aware of our intrusion, which could mean one of two things. We’d done well in hiding ourselves. Or they knew we were here and they were biding their time. Given the stench we were letting off, I decided that opting for the latter was safest and prepared myself for any sign they were going to attack.

It was then that I noticed something—or didn’t notice, as the case may be. The stench from the sewer had vanished. I couldn’t smell a thing—not even Smoky. Confused, I glanced around. Tanne was near me, and his eyes were closed and he was whispering something below his breath. Magic. He was working magic. And whatever he was doing had absorbed the odors we were giving off. I wanted to hug him, but that could come later.

As the last of the ritualists filed into the room, they took their place in a semicircle around the throne, behind the altar and font. Damn, they were blocking our view of the girl—we’d have to work quickly to avoid somebody stabbing her, or whatever they were planning on doing. But I wanted to wait until Lowestar was there. If we moved too quickly, he could escape and then we’d just have one more nasty enemy in the wild.

We didn’t have to wait long, though. As the drumbeat came to a halt, a door near the back of the hall opened and a figure dressed in brown and gold entered the room. He pushed his hood back, revealing that yes, it was Lowestar, with his closely shaved head and brilliant shining eyes. He was a handsome daemon, and that was part of his danger.

As he approached the throne, I tensed, motioning for the others to get ready. We had to make this surprise attack run like clockwork. I leaned forward, ready to take a running leap over the heads of the ritualists, when Lowestar raised an ornate gold baton.

“Rise now, from the depths of your slumber, oh mighty god of fortune!”

Wait—it wasn’t 8 P.M. yet! Frantically I looked around. They weren’t due to start for another ten minutes—but here Lowestar was already beginning the incantation to wake up Suvika.

Frantic now, I burst out of my hiding place, followed by the others. I went barreling directly toward the group and—as they turned in unison—started to sail over their heads, only to go thudding right into a force field.

I slid to the ground against the invisible wall, landing in a heap on the floor. As I did so, Lowestar laughed and resumed his incantation. His followers, however, turned and pushed back their own hoods. Fuck. They looked like businessmen—not daemons—but it was impossible to tell whether they were FBHs or not. We couldn’t just outright slaughter a bunch of humans, could we?

Smoky sent a blast of winter their way, the chill wind freezing against the ground, running below the force field to drive a blinding wall of snow toward them. The men seemed confused, at least most of them, but a couple broke away from the pack and moved to the front, their eyes now glowing.

“Daemons—at least the ones in front are!” Camille’s voice echoed through the hall.

At that moment, Morio managed to find his way around the force field, moving to the side. Ah, so it wasn’t all-inclusive. I raced to the other side and, sure enough, found myself in the fray. Vanzir was on my heels, and it looked like Morio and Camille were cooking up something. As they cast their spell, a purple bolt shot forth, striking the heart of the force field, and then—all hell broke loose.

“What the hell—” Delilah’s scream was cut off as thunder split the air and the marble statue behind the throne began to fracture, cracks racing through like windshield glass shattering after a cold snap.

Lowestar’s voice rose, his incantation deep and reverberating now.

“Stop him—focus on Lowestar!” I pushed through the force field where Morio and Camille had broken through. Little sparks of lightning still flared out from it, but I ignored them, driving on. The men behind the field scattered, save for the two that were daemonkin, and now they cast off their robes and turned to face me. I leaped between them, leaving them for the others. I was after Lowestar.

The statue continued to fracture, and beneath it, I could see the form of someone—crap. Was that where Suvika had been sleeping? Was this his tomb deep in the ethers? Or was this just his new godform, waiting for him as he broke free from his slumber?

I managed to reach the girl on the altar before Lowestar turned on me. He held out his hand and a flash of light drove out, aiming for my heart. I dove for the side. Screams behind me told me that the others had engaged the daemons and the good ol’ boys’ club.

The streaming light hit somebody, because I heard a shriek and turned as I came back to my feet. One of Lowestar’s cronies had a gaping hole in his chest, burned through and cauterized at the same time. A look of surprise on his face, he toppled face first to the floor.

Lowestar grabbed for a staff that was lying on the altar stone next to the girl. He brought it up as I did a spin kick, aiming for his chin. He met me with the staff, but I managed to break it in half and a crack of light burst out of the broken ends. He tossed it aside as I met him, hand to hand.

Lowestar was horribly strong—I hadn’t counted on how strong the daemon might be, and he managed to get hold of my neck. Aha, he didn’t know I was a vampire. He could break the vertebrae but they would heal. I let him pull me close, then flashed him my fangs.

“Oh, so that’s how you want to play?” His eyes flashed and he let go of me with one hand to reach for the broken end of the staff.

Fuck—makeshift wooden stake!

I thrust myself forward into his arms. Caught off guard, he wasn’t able to stop me. As I sank my fangs deep into his neck, he let out a startled shout and dropped the staff. I took him down, feeding so fast and deep that the blood was making me dizzy.

I was sucking him in, drinking him deep, when a noise shattered the chaos in the room. Glancing up as a shower of dust sprayed over me, I saw the rest of the marble on the statue crack and fall away as a tall, gorgeously handsome man leapt off the dais.

“Suvika!” Camille’s voice echoed from behind me. I pulled away from Lowestar and began to back up as the demigod turned my way. No way did I want to get caught in his grasp. I glimpsed the mayhem that had been going on—both daemons were dead, and the FBHs were scattered, cowering against the floor as if hiding their heads was going to save them. Turning back, I noticed the girl was gone—as well as the young man. They had vanished from their chains.

Lowestar turned on his belly and began to crawl toward Suvika. The demigod’s hair was glowing black, long and luxurious, falling against a well-muscled chest, and a thin Mandarin mustache accentuated the sharpness of his chin. He truly was glorious in looks, and I found myself magnetized by the gleam in his eyes.

He looked at Lowestar, who—weak from my attack—dragged himself one inch at a time toward the god. A fire began to burn in my belly, and I realized the daemon blood was starting to have an effect on me. I wanted to touch the god, to feel that chest under my skin. Maybe have a taste of—

“Menolly, get back!” Vanzir had hold of my arm and he was dragging me away. I struggled but he was as strong as I was, and the next thing I knew, he had those damned neon feeding tubes emerging from his hands and he fed them straight into my mind.

I screamed—the feeling of being mentally violated was sickening. Now, I understood why Camille had done what she did—why she had offered him her body instead of her mind. But then, just as I started to beg him to stop, the horrible intrusion vanished and I could think clearly again. Vanzir had left my mind.

He gave me a wan smile. “Sorry, but you needed to come down from that high, and fast.”

I nodded, then turned back to see the demigod approach Lowestar. Would he heal him up? Stand him as his general? But Suvika cocked his head, staring at the daemon, then lifted his foot… and crushed Lowestar Radcliffe’s skull with his boot with a simple, light step.

“Fuck! Get the hell out of here!” Delilah was backpedaling toward the door.

“The yew wand ain’t gonna do shit against that freak.” Vanzir backed away. “He’s big and he’s bad.”

“The girl—” Camille lunged forward.

Smoky caught her. “Shade got her! He moved through the shadows and I saw him taking her and the boy upstairs. Now get the fuck back from there. Can’t you feel how powerful this creature is? Suvika could bring this place down around our heads.”

Even as Smoky spoke, Suvika looked over at us, smiled, and raised his arms. The temple floor began to shake, rolling under our feet. All too close to what had happened in Elqaneve for comfort.