Vesper’s hands clenched as she fought to control the rising tide of panic.
Twelve years later, and she was still a goddamn basket-case.
Ironically, she had no problem confronting the occult on an intellectual level, which made her the perfect partner for the Paranormalist. She handled the calls and research from behind the safety of her desk while Simon bravely marched into battle.
She admired his courage, his determination, his willingness to put it all on the line. Not for treasure and glory, but to make amends for his father’s horrific crimes.
Simon Kane got up every day and proved to the world he wasn’t like his father.
She couldn’t help but admire the man.
And perhaps, if she was honest with herself, there was more than just admiration to her feelings. But she refused to let her mind wander in that direction too often. Her last boyfriend had sold her to a murderous biker gang to feed his habit. She was still healing from that betrayal.
But the day would come when she’d have to move on and leave the mansion. And on that day, maybe she would finally tell Simon—
The chirp of her cellphone thrust her out of her thoughts.
It was Simon.
She answered on the second ring and listened to his update with a growing sense of dread. He had come face to face with the real Mary Kinsey, and it hadn’t ended well. Her heart sank when he told her how Mary had poisoned her whole family. When he got to the part where she mentioned the “Daughter of Darkness,” Vesper’s analytical mind automatically turned to the news headlines that had dominated the airwaves following the LAPD’s deadly confrontation with the Children of the Void.
“Didn’t the press refer to you as the Son of Darkness?”
Vesper had barely finished the question when a loud cracking sound made her turn toward the glass doors leading to the swimming pool. She stifled a gasp. A series of long cracks now spider-webbed the glass.
“What was that, Vesper?” Simon asked on the other end of the line.
“I don’t know,” she said, her fingers gripping the phone, eyes fixed on the deck beyond the fissured glass.
Her gaze widened as a figure emerged from the row of hedges that enclosed the pool. A beautiful, olive-skinned woman caught her eye and smiled back at her. Slanting eyebrows, luscious lips, eyes the color of emeralds ringed by black eyeliner. A Mediterranean goddess. The ocean breeze tousled her long, jet-black hair and the simple yet striking black dress that covered her toned, tanned body.
Vesper couldn’t avert her gaze even if she wanted to.
“What’s going, Vesper? Talk to me.” Simon’s voice sounded a million miles away.
“I’m not alone in the house,” she said. “Someone’s out on the rear deck.”
The woman’s eyes were fixed on her, and the intensity of that gaze quickened Vesper’s pulse. It was almost like the woman could see deep inside her. Almost like she knew her secrets and understood her fears.
Vesper continued to stare at the strange apparition, mesmerized by the surreal presence. The air shimmered and warped, and suddenly the woman had crossed the full length of the pool and now stood inches in front of the cracked glass door. She didn’t look real, as if she had been Photoshopped onto reality.
A chill raced down Vesper’s spine. Only a phantom or a practitioner of the dark arts could bend and fold space the way she had. And that raised an interesting question—why weren’t the wards disabling the intruder’s magic?
Fear sank its claws into her hammering heart, banishing the morbid fascination she had briefly felt. Vesper trusted Simon’s security measures fully. That they had failed to stop this woman meant she must be very, very powerful.
Panic raking her throat, Vesper took a step back, her fingers whitening around the cell phone. If she applied any more pressure, she’d crack the case.
Simon’s voice boomed over the phone. She barely made out the words, in the grip of mortal terror.
There was a rustling noise behind her, and she spun on her heels. To her horror, a second intruder had appeared at the entrance of the living room, and she was a dead ringer for the first woman. Vesper’s panicked gaze ticked toward the pool, only to see the first woman still staring at her. Somehow, there were two of them.
Fuck, she had to get out of here!
Breath still lodged in her chest, Vesper exploded into motion. She sprinted to the main entrance. As she ran for her life, she hazarded a glance backward. Neither one of the spooky women had taken up the chase, at least not yet.
Her attention swiveled back to the passage ahead. Vesper came around a bend in the corridor—the front door was only a few feet away—and stopped dead in her tracks.
A third identical woman fronted the way out of the mansion.
“Oh my God, what do I do, Simon? They’re everywhere…”
Shuffling footsteps behind her made her whirl. Three more women, all of them mirror images. Almost as if the intruder had cloned herself. The women moved in unison—copies under the command of the original mind, perhaps? Their perfect features broke into identical smiles that chilled her to the core.
A horrible realization filled her panicky thoughts: There were no more safe havens left in this world. The darkness could find you anywhere, anytime.
Like it had right now.
“You have a beautiful place here. No wonder you don’t get out much.”
The voice had emanated from her right, where a fifth copy of the stunning yet terrifying woman had materialized. In that moment of distraction, the others closed in. As the eerie women reached out for her with greedy hands, Vesper screamed.
Chapter Thirteen
I was barreling down Topanga Canyon’s hairpin turns at increasingly dangerous speeds. At each bend in the winding road, I had to remind myself to ease my foot off the gas. Getting myself killed wouldn’t help Vesper.
Don’t ask me how long it took before I blasted out of the canyon and the tires of my BMW kissed the Pacific Coast Highway. Even though I must’ve broken a few speed records, it still felt like the drive over the mountain took an eternity. My stomach churned with dread. What horrors were waiting for me at the mansion? I refused to let my imagination go there. I’d also decided against involving the cops. Who knows what these intruders might do to Vesper if the law surrounded the property?
If they hadn’t done it already, a voice whispered inside me.
Up ahead, my home jumped into view. To my mind’s eye, it had become the castle of doom from Vesper’s painting. Why had I ever moved into this godforsaken house of horrors?
The answer was simple. I couldn’t run away from who I was.
No matter where I might hide, my past would always catch up with me.
Like it had right now.
The gate parted and I squealed around the circular flagstone driveway, tires leaving black marks. The mansion loomed over me, a monolith of darkness. Seconds later, I was out of the car, gun up. I surged toward the main entrance, not even trying to hide my approach. My enemies were expecting me.
I was done playing games. I was ready to face the monsters head-on.
I prayed they hadn’t harmed Vesper. If I was too late...
My heart sank as my probing gaze fixed on the front door. Someone had carved a crude Ouroboros into the wood.
The Children of the Void had reclaimed their church.
I entered the house and was greeted with the silence of a tomb. Every muscle in my body coiled, I advanced further into the property. As I passed through one empty room after another, my grim sense of foreboding deepened.
“Show yourselves, goddammit. What the fuck do you want?”
The pervasive silence stretched, weighed down on me.
My breathing became shallow, almost as if the oxygen was being sucked out of the house.
As I beelined for the occult library, I shot perfunctory glances at the living room, the kitchen.
There was no sign of my assistant. Or any crazed cultists.
&n
bsp; Then again, I didn’t really expect to find them up here. The Children of the Void would have headed straight for the dark heart of this house.
They were waiting for me downstairs, in the temple.
It always came back to that place.
Jaw clenched, I entered the library and edged toward the hidden temple entrance. The bookshelf, which usually hid the doorway, now stood wide open.
An invitation to join the party below.
My heart slammed in my chest as I passed through the temple entrance and made my way down the stone steps. Jagged rocks surrounded me, and I felt as if I was entering the jaws of a giant beast. Strangely enough, my tattoo remained dormant. By now, it should have reacted to the presence of black magic. Maybe I’d grown too reliant on it as an early warning system.
Flickering, guttering torches welcomed my arrival into the temple, and distorted shadows tattooed the cavernous space. To my surprise, the place stood abandoned, just as it had for the last decade. There was no sign of any robed fanatics eager to earn the favor of some demented entity.
There was only the woman tied to the altar. Her blue hair spilled across the stone like ink.
Vesper!
My pace quickened as I closed in on the altar, knife in hand. To an outsider, I must’ve looked like some mad high priest rushing toward his sacrificial victim.
Like father, like son.
Never, I thought, my body bubbling with venomous rage. I would never become my old man.
The copycat cult thought they could bend me to their cause, but they were wrong.
My father was the monster in the family. I was the one who hunted them.
I reached Vesper seconds later. Duct tape prevented her from making a peep, but her eyes were wide open. She must’ve heard my approach as her panicked stare shifted to me.
As our gazes met, my heart flooded with relief. Vesper was alive.
I cut through the ropes binding her to the altar. As I worked, my stomach roiled, unease growing with each passing second. Where were the freaks who’d broken into my home? What game were these bastards playing now?
Her hands and feet free, I removed her duct tape gag.
“Are you okay?”
Her response was to bury herself in my chest. My arms instinctively embraced her. We shook with emotion as we held each other.
I knew how fragile Vesper had been when I first freed her from the demon-worshiping biker cult, how mistrustful of people and scared of the world. My home became her safe zone, a place where she could confront the horrors through the window of her computer without ever having to fear coming directly into contact with monsters again. That had changed today. When the Children of the Void invaded our home, they proved that no place on Earth was truly safe.
She might never feel safe again.
The thought made me want to kill every single one of the bastards who had done this to her. I wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
Glock in hand, I led Vesper out of the temple.
To my surprise, we reached the library without incident.
I shook my head, my confusion growing. Why go through all the trouble of breaking into my mansion only to tie up my assistant and take off? It made no sense.
I helped Vesper to one of the library’s comfy Scandinavian recliners and had her take a seat. I was turning to the small bar tucked in the library’s corner when Vesper grabbed my wrist. Her expression was terrified and pleading, her grip holding on to me for dear life.
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just getting you a drink.”
“You better make it a double Hennessy.”
This brought a smile to my face. No frou-frou umbrella drinks for my girl.
I filled a tumbler with the amber liquid and handed it to Vesper. I let her take a few greedy gulps before I spoke.
“What happened?”
The question floated between us, and then Vesper started talking. Told me about the Daughter of Darkness and how multiple copies of the same woman had invaded our home. Her eyes teary, voice quivering, she admitted to me she thought the Daughter of Darkness would kill her.
I stared at Vesper as she finished her story. She looked drained, exhausted and scared. I hated seeing my normally peppy, vibrant assistant like this. I had assured her my home was secure and my new enemy had turned my promise into a lie.
Worst part being, who knew how much this latest horror would set Vesper back? She’d been making real progress. And now this.
Anger boiled inside of me.
My assistant now understood with chilling certainty that there was no such thing as a safe space in this war.
A determined, powerful enemy could circumvent even the best security.
I wondered what purpose this home invasion exercise served in my enemy’s grander plan.
I was racking my brain, trying to make sense of this latest chess move against me. Why go through all this trouble if they didn’t plan to harm her? They’d killed Ashley, forced Mary to poison her own family.
There was only a single explanation that made any kind of sense to me. The reformed cult was flexing its muscles, showing me what they were capable of. They could have killed Vesper, but instead they spared her. Almost as if they were trying to prove their worth to me. This was just another recruitment effort. Clearly, they had no clue who they were dealing with here.
They would find out soon enough.
As I mulled everything over, one question lingered. How had they breached my wards?
And then it hit me.
My blood turned to ice. How had I not figured it out earlier?
What a fool I’d been.
Still shaken from her ordeal, Vesper couldn’t help but notice the change in my expression.
“What is it?”
“I think I know how they got in.”
Vesper gulped down the last of her drink and followed me out of the library. I headed for the living room, my eyes combing the large table that served as Vesper’s command station in our battle against the forces of darkness.
My blazing gaze locked on the Tarot deck that the copycat cult had left for me when they raided my father’s coffin. A deck that Dad had gifted to me when I was a boy but had gone missing over the years. It looked like the original deck, but I now knew better. The card of the Fool seemed to glare back at me, and I could almost hear my enemies’ mocking laughter ringing through the mansion.
Anger detonating in my chest, the Hexblade came out and I drove it into the deck of cards.
For a split second, nothing happened. Was I wrong about this?
Vesper eyed me as if I had lost my mind.
Then the cards started to smoke. A hungry fire engulfed them, incinerating the Tarot deck to ash.
The Tarot cards hadn’t been a message as I first believed. The Daughter of Darkness had used the deck to invite herself into my world.
Chapter Fourteen
Until now my enemies had been one step ahead of me. That was about to change.
A shell-shocked Vesper was doing her best to keep it all together. My heart hurt seeing her this way—I already missed her peppy, sarcastic self.
She silently watched as my fingers flew over the computer’s keyboard. Talk about a role reversal. It usually was Vesper who powered through databases while I waited for her to dig up some crucial piece of information.
I didn’t mind. I had handled all this stuff myself before I’d met Vesper, and it was nice to see that I still knew my way around a computer. She’d offered to help, but I felt she wasn’t quite up to the job after her ordeal in the temple. The only reason I hadn’t sent her upstairs to get some rest was that I needed her to identify our new enemy.
Vesper had seen the Daughter of Darkness with her own eyes.
My assistant’s blank, listless gaze bothered me. How many times had I told her she was safe within these walls? That no force on Earth could breach my magical and technological defenses? Our enemy had made a mockery out of my assurances, turned me i
nto a liar in Vesper’s mind.
Anger roiled in the pit of my stomach. I clenched my jaw and I did my best to get a grip on my volatile emotions. I had a job to do here. I was determined to uncover the identity of this so-called Daughter of Darkness, who appeared hellbent on turning our lives into a nightmare.
Whoever this woman was, she liked to make me work for my knowledge, offering hints and clues but requiring me to do the heavy lifting to put together the details.
Go ahead. Keep playing your games. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.
My fingers blazed over the keyboard as I accessed various Los Angeles crime databases. Soon I had amassed a collection of twenty mugshots. I stared at the images of the cult members who’d taken an active part in the ritual the LAPD interrupted at this very mansion fifteen years earlier. Going by surface appearance, they were all average, normal-looking people. Men and women ranging in age from as young as twenty-nine up to their early sixties. All of them affluent professionals with money and influence. Nothing hinted at their capacity for violence.
They didn’t look like monsters.
Talk about the banality of evil. No one would have ever suspected these fine folks were involved with a goddamn killer cult. These people had it all, yet they’d found themselves drawn to my father’s dark ideology of blood-fueled black magic. Despite appearing normal on the surface, some fundamental part of their psyche must have been broken.
As you can well imagine, I’d studied these faces many times in the past. Pored over them for hours, in fact, hoping to discover the cracks in the humanity of these men and women. There was Shannon Norton, who at age 31 had become the youngest studio head in town. Mark Torrence, the rising superstar of a technology upstart, covered in every major newspaper. Robert Damor, a geneticist of some acclaim.
The list went on and on. Doctors, judges, CEOs, even a bestselling writer and a pop star whose album you probably owned. What was the common thread between these individuals? Were they just bored, desperate for a new thrill? What dark need had my father’s cult fulfilled in them?
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