Demon Unleashed

by Tina Folsom

  “How close are you?”

  She gave him a sly smile. “Very close. Another month or so, and they’ll both be mine.”

  “Well done,” he praised, then looked at Quentin. “And what have you got to report, Quentin?”

  Quentin had impressed Zoltan a few years earlier, when he’d insisted that he sensed a disturbance in the Underworld, which turned out to be an intrusion by a Stealth Guardian. Quentin’s vigilance had led to a chase of the Stealth Guardian and her companion, but due to the dog handler’s incompetence, that chase had ended unsuccessfully. Klaus, the dog handler in charge back then, had paid for it with his life.

  “Also very good news,” Quentin said quickly. “I’m working on several top-level politicians—leaders of their respective countries, in fact.”

  “Which countries?”

  “Russia, North Korea, and the U.S.”

  Zoltan chuckled. “That’s hardly an effort on your part. Those leaders are pretty much a shoo-in, don’t you think?”

  Quentin lowered his lids. “I don’t disagree, oh Great One. But if I may say, despite the fact that these three leaders will fall into my hands like ripe fruit from a tree, nobody has ever attempted it before. As if it had been overlooked.”

  Zoltan nodded. “You have a point. Nobody before you suggested getting them to join us. Let me suggest you add the leaders of Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Syria, and Venezuela to your workload, and I’ll overlook the fact that you’re going for easy pickings.”

  “Excellent suggestion,” Quentin said eagerly.

  Of course it was an excellent suggestion. Zoltan didn’t need Quentin to tell him that. He looked at Wilson.

  The short, stocky demon sat up straighter in his chair. “Oh Great One.”

  “Anything notable in the weaponry department?” Zoltan asked.

  “I’m afraid we’re limited when it comes to acquiring new weapons. Well, of course they’re not new. If they were, we wouldn’t be able to use them. I mean old weapons,” Wilson said, flustered as always.

  If he hadn’t turned out to be so loyal, Zoltan would have replaced Wilson long ago. But Wilson knew when to grovel. Besides, he knew his weapons. He could tell a dagger forged in the Dark Days from any imitation. And only weapons forged in the Dark Days were of use to them when it came to destroying the Stealth Guardians. They couldn’t be killed with any other weapon. The same was true for demons.

  Zoltan was already turning away from Wilson when the stout demon said, “But I might have a new source. A man who’s worked on numerous archeological digs. I’m supposed to meet him later this week to look at photographs he’s taken.”

  “Good.” Zoltan pointed to Silvana. “How are the dogs?”

  “Hungry.” Silvana’s Eastern European accent was as hard and grating as her demeanor. The job of dog handler was tailor-made for her. “Next time a Stealth Guardian tries to infiltrate here, they’ll sniff out the bastard in no time. No matter how much they’ll try to disguise their scent, they won’t be able to get past the dogs. I promise.”

  Zoltan had confidence in her. Well-trained dogs were essential. Since Stealth Guardians could make themselves invisible, the demons needed a defense mechanism, so that their enemies couldn’t sneak up on them.

  “See that you keep that promise,” Zoltan said rather than praising her. In many of his demons, praise seemed to have a negative effect: they became complacent. And complacency was the death of his quest for world domination.

  “Yannick,” he said to the demon who had a particularly sensitive job. Yannick was responsible for keeping track of the comings and goings of all demons. “Have you figured out a way of shutting down any of our vortex circles in case of a breach?”

  Yanick bowed his head for a moment, then looked straight at Zoltan. “I’m afraid not yet, oh Great One. The mystical origin of the vortex circles seems like a finely tuned machine to which we’ve lost the instruction manuals. What I’m trying to say is that unless we can figure out how they were created in the first place, we won’t know what it’ll take to shut them down temporarily, which I believe is what you’re asking, rather than permanently.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Well, shutting down the vortex circles permanently is one thing; shutting them down for a limited time is another, because it would involve knowing how to restart them.”

  “Are you saying there’s a way of shutting down the vortex circles permanently, and trapping all demons in the Underworld?” Zoltan leaned forward, eager to hear the reply.

  Yannick nodded. “While I can’t confirm it with one hundred percent certainty, I believe flooding the vortex circles with lava would strip away their mystical powers and make them unusable.”

  Everyone in the cave gasped.

  “Who knows about this?”

  Yannick looked to the assembled demons. “I’ve never before mentioned it to anyone outside this group. And as I said, it’s only an educated guess. And it defeats the purpose.”

  “Yes, yes,” Zoltan said impatiently. “But if you’re right, then it’s even more important to learn how we can create new vortex circles. In fact, to control the human world once we’ve defeated the Stealth Guardians, we’ll have much more traffic going through the existing vortex circles. We’ll need additional ones to send more demons up top.”

  Demons used vortexes as a means to teleport from one place to another. Once in the human world, demons could cast their vortexes anywhere they had a visual, but to leave or enter the Underworld, they needed to cast a vortex in one of the vortex circles, of which they only had three. Clearly, his predecessor hadn’t thought of logistics. It was up to Zoltan to plan for the future, because soon, the Stealth Guardians would be gone, and nothing would stand between the demons and the human population.

  “I understand,” Yannick said. “I have my best men working on this. Mathematicians, scientists, occultists.”

  “Then get me results,” Zoltan thundered.

  “I will, oh Great One.”

  Finally, he turned to Ulric, the demon responsible for intelligence. “Any new reports from your network of spies, Ulric?”

  “They’re keeping their eyes and ears open. Nothing will escape them.”

  Zoltan knew what that meant. “So you’ve got nothing!”

  “I wouldn’t say that, oh Great—”

  Zoltan pounded his fist on the table. “Then how would you say it?”

  Ulric did well to bow his head in shame. “My apologies.”

  Zoltan grunted. “Just as well that I myself am working on a direct lead to the Stealth Guardians.”

  All eyes landed on him.

  “If you need any assistance,” Quentin said, “perhaps I can—”

  “I’ll help with whatever you need,” Vintoq interrupted.

  “I can’t risk any of you screwing this up. I’ll fill you in when I’m ready to execute my plan.” And when Zoltan could be sure that none of the assembled demons was a traitor. For quite some time now, he suspected that somebody was vying for his throne—and using any means possible to attain it, even resorting to assassination attempts. But so far, Zoltan hadn’t been able to nail the culprit. “In the meantime, I’ll have to spend more time up top to lay the groundwork. Baltimore is off-limits to any demon until then. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, oh Great One,” they said in unison, sounding like the marionettes he’d trained them to be.

  5

  “Something’s up,” Enya said, and looked at her colleagues, who were all assembled in the great room, which sported a huge sectional with seating for at least ten, an oversized TV mounted on the wall, and was adjacent to the kitchen, where her colleagues’ mates were chatting and preparing the evening meal. “I can feel it in my gut.” She paced back and forth.

  “Can’t you just enjoy the calm for a while?” Hamish asked. “It doesn’t happen every week that we don’t have to rush to a demon sighting and kick their butts.”

  Enya tossed him an annoyed look.
“Doesn’t that worry you?” She looked at Logan, who was flicking through the channels. “Logan? Anybody?”

  Logan stopped his channel surfing for a moment and looked at her. “What do you want, Enya? Don’t you need a break from time to time? I sure do. So, enjoy the fact that the demons have been quiet this week. Relax. Recharge.” He glanced at Winter, a psychic, who instantly met his look. “Do something fun.”

  “Pfff!” Enya scoffed. Easy for Logan to say. The way he looked at his wife right now, it wasn’t hard to guess what he meant by fun. She ripped her gaze from him, sick of the lovey-dovey exchange she had to witness. Instead, she walked up to Manus, who was lounging in one of the large armchairs, and slapped him on the shoulder.

  Manus whipped his head to her. “What?”

  “Have you been listening at all?” she asked.

  He motioned to the TV. “What now? Come on, Enya, I just wanna watch the boxing match if Logan can find the damn channel.” He cast his friend an impatient look.

  “I’m on it,” Logan said, and continued flicking through the channels.

  “There are more important things than boxing matches on TV,” Enya scolded him. “Aren’t you worried that the demons are planning something big, and that’s why we haven’t gotten a glimpse of them in the last week?”

  “Like Hamish said, enjoy the fact that it’s quiet,” Manus said calmly. “Why are you so antsy? Haven’t you kicked enough demon ass in the last few months?”

  “Give her a break, Manus,” Aiden interrupted.

  Surprised that at least one of her colleagues seemed to be taking her side, Enya looked at Aiden. He’d changed a lot over the last few years. Now a father of six-year-old twins, he showed a lot more patience with his colleagues, and had lost a lot of his hotheadedness. His mate Leila had a lot to do with it. She was human and had been a scientist who’d discovered a drug to reverse Alzheimer’s. Aiden had been assigned to protect her after it had become clear that the demons wanted the drug because it made humans more susceptible to their influence. The drug had to be destroyed and Leila had to go into hiding so the demons couldn’t capture her and force her to recreate the drug for them. It had all worked out in the end—because Aiden had fallen in love with his charge, and she was now living in the Stealth Guardians’ secret (and invisible) compound in Baltimore.

  “Listen, Enya,” Aiden continued, “if there’s really something big brewing, then there would be reports from other compounds too, and so far, we haven’t heard anything unusual, have we, Pearce?”

  Pearce, their resident IT genius responsible for communications, nodded. “All other compounds report the usual level of demon activity. Nothing less, nothing more. I filed our weekly report this morning.”

  “And?” Enya asked eagerly.

  He shrugged. “Neither the Council of Nine nor any of the other compounds contacted me to ask questions. Nobody is concerned that we’ve had a quiet week for a change.”

  “Yeah, but what if they’re wrong? What if something is up?” Enya asked. She’d always trusted her gut, and her gut was telling her that the absence of demons in Baltimore was a bad omen. “After Zoltan’s last defeat, do you really think he’s sitting on his hands, doing nothing?”

  “Of course not,” Pearce said tersely. “I’m sure having lost possession of the source dagger must have stung. Can’t have helped him prove to his demons that he’s the right leader.” He cast a look at Daphne, his mate, who’d been instrumental in snatching the valuable dagger from Zoltan’s claws. “And getting his ass kicked by a woman with his demons watching… Well, I’m sure he’s still doing damage control in the Underworld.”

  Hamish nodded. “Pearce is right. There’ve been persistent rumors from the Underworld that Zoltan’s reign is anything but cemented. He’s got other things to worry about than terrorizing Baltimore.”

  Enya braced her hands at her hips. “Let’s assume you’re right. Let’s assume Zoltan is indeed in the middle of a power struggle or fighting off other demons vying for his throne. Well, put yourselves in his shoes. What would you do to accomplish that?” She let her gaze wander over her colleagues. “Anybody?”

  There was silence, then Aiden spoke up. “We’re not in Zoltan’s shoes. Demons aren’t like us. They think differently. Their actions often make no sense. They’re irrational, impulsive, uncoordinated. That’s why we’ve been able to defeat them so far.”

  “The grunts, maybe,” Enya admitted. “But not Zoltan. He thinks like us. He’s outsmarted us plenty of times. Take the source dagger, for example. He found it when it had been lost for centuries. It took him less than six months from the day he found out about its significance until he blew up the safe it had been in. Don’t underestimate him. He was able to do something that our entire race was incapable of: finding the source dagger.”

  “Yes, he found the dagger, but we are in possession of it now,” Pearce said. “Thanks to Daphne.”

  From the kitchen, Daphne called out, “What are you thanking me for?”

  “For saving my life with the source dagger.”

  Enya tried to shake off the memory of what had happened only months earlier, when Pearce had been mortally wounded during a fight with the demons in which each side had tried to gain possession of the source dagger, the ancient artefact that made it possible to create portals the Stealth Guardians used to teleport from one location to another. But the source dagger also possessed another power—to reverse a mortal wound and save a person’s life. Daphne’s swift and brave action to snatch the dagger from the demons and use it on Pearce had saved his life.

  Daphne came closer and winked at Pearce. “I believe you already thanked me plenty for it.” She put her hand over her slightly rounded stomach. Her bump was barely visible, but everybody at the compound knew of Daphne’s pregnancy. Pearce had been unable to keep the news to himself and announced it shortly after a pregnancy test had confirmed it. And she wasn’t the only one at the compound who was pregnant. Winter was also expecting her first child with her mate Logan. It was as if the condition was contagious.

  “So what’s all the talk about the source dagger?” Daphne asked.

  Pearce pointed to Enya. “Enya is concerned about the lack of demon activity this week. She thinks Zoltan is planning something.”

  “Of course he’s planning something,” Daphne said, to Enya’s surprise. “He’s always planning his next move.”

  “See,” Enya said, glowering at her colleagues. “Even Daphne thinks so. And she isn’t a warrior.”

  “No, she isn’t,” Logan said. “We are, and we’ve been doing this for a long time. You don’t seem to remember that there’ve always been times when the demons were quiet. It’s natural.”

  Enya grunted. “You’re just getting complacent. You don’t wanna see the threat. Fine! I’ll deal with it myself if I have to. I’ll go on patrol.”

  Aiden shook his head. “Don’t, Enya.” He sighed heavily. “I’ll talk to my father. He’s visiting this weekend anyway to see the twins. If he agrees, we’ll send out an alert to the other compounds to be on the lookout for anything unusual. Maybe Zoltan pulled some demons off Baltimore because he needs them somewhere else.”

  Enya felt her pulse settle. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  With some luck, Barclay, Aiden’s father, the head of the Council of Nine, would validate her concerns. He was experienced and wise, while her Baltimore colleagues were only seeing the upside of decreased demon activity: they could spend more time with their mates.

  She wondered if she would feel the same way if she had a mate. She quickly dismissed the thought. First and foremost, she was a warrior. Nothing else mattered. However, it seemed that having mated had shifted her brethren’s priorities.

  Enya looked at the women in the kitchen. Now that every warrior in the compound except herself was mated, evenings like this one had become more frequent. Like a large family, they ate together whenever there was an occasion. Tessa, Hamish’s mate, and Kim, Manus
’s mate, were already setting the table, and Leila was pulling a roast out of the oven. Winter was tossing the salad, and Daphne scooped the roasted potatoes into a large bowl. All the while, the women chatted and laughed. They’d become friends, accepting each other and their oddities and quirks.

  For so many decades, Enya had been the only woman in the compound, but now, everything was different. Things had gotten more domestic. Suddenly, Enya was the odd one out, the only one without a partner. It had never bothered her before. She liked being different, liked not being like anybody else. She liked her freedom, her independence. And while she loved her brethren and their wives and children, she suddenly realized what she had turned into: the outsider. The person looking in through a window, watching happy couples live their lives.

  The door opened and the two young vampire hybrids entered. Grayson and Ryder were on loan from Scanguards, the Stealth Guardians’ vampire allies in San Francisco, and had become an integral part of the group. Both in their twenties, they were single, and while neither was in a relationship, they were regularly sowing their wild oats with any woman who tickled their fancy, be it human, vampire, witch, or otherwise. She glanced at the handsome youngsters. They were outsiders, too, but it didn’t seem to bother them. For them, living at the compound and fighting demons together with the Stealth Guardians was an adventure. One day, they would return to San Francisco and make lives for themselves there. For Enya, this was her life.

  “Dinner is ready, guys,” Leila announced.

  The men rose from their seats and trotted to the large dining table, where they joined their mates. The twins suddenly appeared as if out of thin air, giggling.

  “There you are, finally!” Aiden scolded them softly.

  Ever since Xander and Julia had mastered the skill of making themselves invisible, their game of hide and seek had taken on new dimensions. Watching over them and making sure they were safe couldn’t be easy for their parents.