Demon Mistress (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #6)

Demon Mistress (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #6) Page 33

Motioning everybody back down the tunnel a few feet, in low whispers I told them what I’d heard. “We’ll head for the room Delilah and I found the bodies in. We can hide in there—”

“Remember, I’ve got an invisibility spell,” Morio said. “It’s not foolproof, and it doesn’t cloak sound or scent, but a couple of us can use it from there to scout out what’s going on down the hall.”

“Great idea.” I actually found myself patting him on the back, relieved. At least we had some semblance of a plan. It seemed like our main method was to rush in, beat the enemy senseless, and hope we didn’t get hurt. Maybe others were more adept at this saving-the-world gig, but I had the feeling we’d forever remain the Three Stooges plus of the he-man set.

I cautiously opened the door, peering out into the hall. Nobody, but the chanting echoed through the empty corridor, an eerie backdrop as we slunk through the hall toward our destination. The room was still unlocked, and as I opened the door, I could see Sabele’s body still hanging there. Suddenly furious, I slipped in and motioned to the others. They silently filed in, stopping short as they saw the getup on the wall. Camille walked slowly over to the body, her fingers brushing the leathery skin.

“What the hell did they do to her?” she whispered.

“I told you: They ripped out her heart and chopped off her fingers. They’re a fucking bunch of sadists.”

All my worry over what Harold’s parents might say took a nosedive out the window as I stared at Sabele, wondering how long they’d let her hang there. Had they killed her there or somewhere else? Had she been awake when they’d done the deed? Had they violated her, fed on her fear, laughed at her cries? Flashbacks to my own night of terror at Dredge’s hands flickered through my mind like an old movie. No matter that he was dust and ashes, no matter that I’d broken the bond, some memories were too horrendous to ever forget.

Camille brushed her hand across Sabele’s face, gently stroking the wisps of hair that remained attached to the mummy back away from her eyes. “Sleep deep. Sleep and go to your ancestors, my friend. Sleep the sleep of the ancients, dream the dreams of the divine. Go and rest.”

A faint whisper of wind blew through the room, and I shivered, not from the chill, but from the sense that Sabele was there, listening. Was she trapped? Did her spirit wander the halls of the damned, waiting for release?

Morio ran his hand down Camille’s back, and she shuddered. He leaned close and gently kissed her shoulder, then her ear, before turning to me.

“Who do you want to send on the scout mission? Whoever it is has to move silently and preferably have as little scent as possible,” he said, setting his bag down on the floor.

“I’ll go,” I said. “Will your spell work on a vampire?”

“I don’t see why not. I can enchant two with the spell, so do you want to take someone else?”

I shook my head. I’d thought about taking Delilah, but too much chaos if we got separated. Better and easier to keep track of just myself.

“No, I can move faster than most of you, and I’m silent. What do I have to remember about the spell?” I looked at my boots. Heeled, but they were my working boots. I’d covered the bottom of the heels with a rubber compound so they made no noise. Some of my boots tapped nicely on the floor, comforting me as I walked, reminding me I was still alive, but I’d learned quickly that in our new gig as demon hunters, I needed the advantage of the silence I’d been gifted with when I was turned into a vampire.

“If you bump into someone, they’ll feel you. If you make noise, they can hear you. If you attack someone, the spell vanishes. It’s a spell aimed solely for reconnaissance. As a matter of fact, there are a few invisibility spells that will work during a fight, but they’re hard to learn, and usually only the most adept sorcerers and witches can work them.”

“How long will it last?”

He shrugged. “Hard to say; it varies with the recipient. But I think you should have about ten minutes, maybe fifteen if you’re lucky. When you’re invisible, you won’t be able to see yourself, so you should have a pretty good clue when you start being able to see your hands and body again that the magic is fading.”

I gave him a short nod. “I’m ready. Let’s get this show on the road and find out just what we’re up against.”

He stood, spread-legged, his feet solidly against the floor. As he raised his head, his dark eyes glowed with a topaz ring, and I could see his demonic nature flicker to the surface. Morio took three deep breaths as a palpable energy rose around him, twisting and turning like a vortex of sinuous fire. He reached out and put his hands on my shoulders.

I couldn’t understand the words, but as the chant flowed from between his lips, my body began to shift. It was almost like walking through a portal, but instead of everything around me becoming hazy, I felt nebulous, as if I was suddenly looking through a camera at the world around me. I glanced down and realized that I could no longer see my hands. Or my feet. Or any part of me.

“Okay, that’s freaky,” I said.

Delilah jumped. “Yeah, especially for us. You just vanished—all of you.”

“Okay, I’m headed out then. I’ll tap three times on the door when I return. Here’s hoping the big blow doesn’t start before I get back. The last thing we need is to be split up.” I listened at the door again. Nothing sounded in the hallway save for the chanting that seemed to be an endless loop. Idly, I wondered if they’d taped it and just played it over and over again.

I slipped out and closed the door behind me. Nobody in the hall. Keeping to the side, swerving around the doors that might suddenly open to reveal someone, I hustled my ass down the corridor. I could move far faster than any of the others, except perhaps Vanzir and Roz. And so I followed the thread of music and voices that called from the distance.

As I neared the end of the corridor, I saw a staircase going down. Next to the stairwell, a large bay window took up a good share of the wall, and as I pressed against it, what I saw made me jump back.

The staircase led into an amphitheater. The walls were painted black with gold trim. Tiers of shelves lined the walls, holding at least a hundred brass candelabras. Within each flickered three ivory candles. On one wall hung a stretched skin. I could tell it was human skin from the shape, and runes were drawn in blood on it. The key to opening the Demon Gate, I thought.

A large flat stone of black marble rested in the center of the room, and to either side of the altar, a seven-foot-tall blood-red pillar candle illuminated the stone. A ring of cloaked figures surrounded the altar, each in a gray robe belted with a red, black, and gold braided sash. At the head of the altar, one of the figures held a long sword, serrated and brutal.

But what caught my eye was the figure chained to the altar. Naked except for a wisp of a sheer scarf that was draped across her stomach, her long golden hair flowing across the marble, a delicate elf was manacled by her hands and feet. She was screaming, but the chanting drowned her out. I glanced up behind the figure with the sword and saw a black void forming in the air behind him. A Demon Gate! Holy crap . . . they were opening another Demon Gate!

I turned to race back for help. Unfortunately, I’d been so focused on what was unfolding in the amphitheater that I hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on right behind me, and I ran into yet another cloaked figure. Morio was right, I thought. I might be invisible, but I still took up space. The thud as I accidentally knocked the man down was real enough, as was the fact that I ended up tangled in his robe and sprawled across him with a loud “Oof.”

Holy hell, this was bad—real bad. As I scrambled to my feet, he grabbed for me—for air, rather—and managed to get hold of my braids. He yanked, and I snarled, reflexively smacking him a good one. As my hand landed on his cheek, I saw a ripple shiver through the air as I began to shimmer back into sight. Oh fuck. I’d just attacked him, and now he could see me.

“What the fu—” The voice was oddly familiar, and I yanked his hood back, revealing Duane. Oh delightful. One miscreant I could do without. “Who the hell are you?”

He reached to grapple with me, but I hauled back and punched him a good one, slamming my fist against his jaw. I heard the bones break as he passed out. A quick glance around the hall told me that he hadn’t been alone. Another cloaked figure was running toward the wall, shouting. At first I wondered why he wasn’t just running away, but then a blaring siren filled the hall, and I knew what he’d been doing. At first I thought it was a fire alarm, but then I saw the lights blinking near the ceiling and realized that it was some sort of general warning. Oh shit.

I jumped up and started toward him, but he dove for cover in the nearest room, and I heard the door lock. Ignoring him, I headed back to gather the others. We’d lost all our advantage of surprise, but too bad. We couldn’t leave that girl on the chopping block, not with the Demon Gate opening.

The door opened, and Camille and Morio raced out, followed by the others.

“Should we head out?” she called.

I shook my head. “No, they have another girl prisoner; she’s still alive, but my bets are she won’t be for long. I think she’s providing lunch for a demon they appear to be summoning.”

“Then let’s get a move on,” Roz said.

I turned and headed back for the amphitheater, the others keeping close to my heels. As we neared Duane’s prone body, there was a sudden rush of shouts, and the stairs were filled with men. They’d left their cloaks behind, apparently, and there looked to be a good twenty or thirty of them. Some were a lot older than college age. Dante’s Hellions’ roster seemed to include a healthy alumni.

“Freakin’ A,” Camille said. “Spread out, and let’s get busy.”

I’d expected us to slaughter our way through the group, but I got a nasty surprise when I found myself battling one of the Hellions. It only took me moments to register that he, too, was a vampire. Oh shit. They weren’t all human. At least not anymore.

He’d been around forty when he died, that much was apparent, and he was in damned good shape: average height but above average build with way too much muscle for comfort and a hungry, red gleam in his eye. As I engaged him, my fangs extended, and I gave a little hiss as we circled one another.

“She a problem, Len?” a voice rang out.

“She’s a vampire, too!” he shouted back.

Damn it. Now everybody knew I was a vampire. I closed in on him with my usual spin-kick but something went awry. Len seemed to be anticipating my move, and he leapt back. Unbalanced, I fell forward, and he leapt on me. Down we went, rolling on the floor, a flurry of snarls and hisses.

The sounds of clashing metal, fireworks, and shouts all filtered through my anger-soaked mind. I tried to focus, to gauge just what kind of threat this dude was.

I was holding Len at bay, so he wasn’t stronger than me. In fact, he was using all of his strength to keep me from lunging at him, but he couldn’t quite manage to throw me off. So I had more force than he did. He also had a couple of wounds on his throat, which told me that he’d either offered himself up as a soda pop for some other vampire, or he had been attacked. Was he weak, then? The wounds had to be fresh; they’d have healed over if they’d been more than a few hours old, they were so small.

“Bitch—just who the hell are you?”

The question echoed from off to my left. Had to be aimed at Delilah or Camille, unless one of the dudes here got off on calling men bitch.

“Your worst nightmare!” Camille’s voice came thundering through the crowd. Original maybe not so much, but there was a loud explosion, and the hall filled with smoke. I prayed she hadn’t sent herself up in flames again. As my opponent reared back, startled, I seized the opportunity and decided to deal with him the way I’d dealt with the ghouls. I broke his neck. Wouldn’t kill him but—

“Hey, Roz! Stake! I need a stake!”

Before Lenny boy could react, Roz was beside me, stake in hand. He plunged it into Len’s chest, and my vampire buddy went buh-bye in a cloud of dust and ashes. I leapt to my feet, looking around to calculate the mayhem we’d gotten ourselves into.

Four of the men were on the ground, choking, singed. I glanced around for Camille, hoping that she hadn’t got caught in the backlash. She was in a corner, kneeing some dude in the balls. He groaned and toppled—she was damned good with that knee—as Delilah rushed by, chasing one of the men with Lysanthra, her dagger. He was screaming and covering his head.

Two more were on the ground, bloody red shirts attesting to the fact that they’d never take part in another frat house party. Vanzir had backed my old friend Larry up to the wall, and as I watched, he lashed out with one hand and without so much as a blink, Larry dropped. What the hell had the demon done to him? Morio, on the other hand, had changed into his full demonic form and was towering over a group of five of the men, who looked scared out of their wits. One of them had pissed his pants, that much was apparent by the odor wafting through the air.

“Round them up—bind and gag them—” I started to say, thinking we could hand them over to Chase, when a sudden hush fell over the area. My words vanished into the abyss. One moment I was speaking, and the next, I couldn’t hear a word I was saying. I looked around, confused, and saw the same bewilderment on everyone else’s face.

A movement from the stairwell caught my attention. In fact, everybody was looking at the figure emerging from the gloom. He was cowled like the others, but there was something menacing about him: a dark glamour that the others lacked. Even Len the vampire had lacked the sense of brooding power behind this cloaked figure.