The Gathering

by Jennifer Ashley

  The first man smiled, the curve of his lips sinful. But then, all demons were seductive.

  “Maybe you didn’t hear,” he said, his voice low and velvet smooth. “This house is in our territory. You belong to us, now.”

  Chapter Nine

  Hunter docked the boat under leaden skies in an empty slip in Marina Del Rey. He’d sailed straight through the harbor and into the marina, ignoring the marked lanes and the warning shouts of people from other boats.

  There were many empty slips in the marina—not too surprising, considering the city beyond the forest of masts stank of death magic. Hunter felt the pall of despair in the usually vibrant city. Heavy clouds mixed with pollution blotted the sunshine so many traveled here to seek.

  “Hey!” a man in the next boat said as Hunter’s boat gently bumped the pier. “You can’t pull in here. Guest slips are on the other side.”

  Hunter ignored him and started securing the boat. The man continued to watch, his brow drawn, fists clenched threateningly, until Mukasa wandered out of the cabin, looking around with interest.

  “Holy shit.” The man removed his baseball cap and stared, his brown eyes wide. He shoved the cap back on again when Mukasa growled. “That’s a lion.”

  “Yep.” Hunter finished covering the rolled-up sail and tying up the boat, then he leapt lightly to the dock, his feet still bare. Mukasa climbed after Hunter, the fetid wind off the water stirring his mane.

  Hunter unhooked the radio from his belt and flicked it on. “Leda, where are you?”

  Static crackled, then nothing. Hunter looked across the docks to the hotels and condos that lined the shore, the teeming city beyond. Leda was out there—somewhere.

  Samantha was paranormal police. The police department would know where she was and how to find her, and Hunter could make them tell him. Very few people refused Hunter’s requests, especially when they found Hunter’s sword at their throat.

  Hunter left the boat, Mukasa following. The man in the next boat watched them go, still gaping.

  At the entrance to the marina, Hunter compelled a taxi to stop for him, and to allow Mukasa in the backseat. He told the white-faced and terrified driver to take him to the main Los Angeles police station, and they roared out into a darkening city.

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” Samantha said to the demon, and tried to slam the door in his face. The door hit a magical force and slammed open again, jerking out of her hands.

  The demon smiled. “That’s better.”

  Leda had already begun a spell that would keep her and Samantha resistant to the demons’ seductive powers, though she wasn’t sure whether Samantha would already be immune, being demon herself. Leda started to draw on the air to enhance the spell, but the atmosphere was so tainted with death magic she let the breeze go immediately.

  The demon’s smile widened. “Everyone in this territory belongs to us now. We came to see that all your needs are met.” He reached for Samantha. “I’ll enjoy teaching you obedience, I think.” He met the wards Leda had strengthened, flinched, and drew back.

  Samantha pulled a leather card holder out of her back pocket and opened it in his face. “I’m paranormal police. You just violated about fifteen codes and three laws.”

  “Parapolice,” the demon spat. “Right. You been out of town? We own the police now.” He took an automatic pistol out of his leather jacket. “Take down the wards, and maybe I won’t punish you as much as I want to.”

  Leda’s heart thumped. This was a demon out of control, no longer caring about the laws that kept his kind from sucking humans dry. The wards, as strong as they were, wouldn’t stop a bullet—Leda couldn’t make a shield as Hunter had done when Valdez’s men had emptied their weapons at him.

  If Leda let down the wards, she and Samantha were sitting ducks; if she didn’t they could be dead ones.

  The demon behind the first one also had a pistol. The second demon trained his gun on Leda and purred, “Come to papa, sweetie.”

  Leda drew on magic deep inside her, envisioning runes in her head that sparked like fire. If she could touch the demons, she could hurt them . . . if she could reach them before they shot her, of course.

  “Interesting,” said another voice in the gathering darkness. “Who let you out of your pens?”

  The voice didn’t belong to Hunter—it was smooth and cultured, holding the weight of ages, and a hell of a lot of death magic. An Old One, Leda thought. But not a demon.

  The vampire stepped into the light. He wore a black suit, a supple leather coat, black leather gloves, and wore his dark hair pulled into a short ponytail. He had a strong, handsome face, and eyes hidden by opaque sunglasses, though the sun was already setting in the cloud-packed horizon.

  Leda felt the death magic roll from him to taint the already dark air. He was powerful, whoever he was. Mortals and lesser death-magic beings wouldn’t stand a chance if this vamp let out one tenth of the darkness Leda sensed in him.

  The first demon growled. “Get out of here, vampire. This is our take. Everything in this neighborhood belongs to Eidja.”

  “Not anymore,” the vampire answered calmly. Leda saw several other vamps in the shadows behind him. They exuded death magic of a kind different from the demons, a lust for blood and sex that went beyond even a demon’s obsession. “I killed Eidja ten minutes ago,” the vamp went on. “This street is mine.”

  The first demon looked worried. The second one paled, swung around, and shot the vampire in the chest.

  The vampire merely turned his head and stared at the demon. He held out a gloved hand, and the pistol flew out of the demon’s grip and into the vampire’s. The vampire closed his fingers around the pistol, and pieces of it clattered to the tile in the courtyard.

  The dark magic hold on the house weakened, and Samantha had the presence of mind to slam the door and lock it. She ran for the phone while Leda traced runes over the doorframe, chanting the strongest warding spell she knew. Outside she heard a crunch of bones, and both demons started screaming.

  “Damn it!” Samantha bellowed into the phone. “What is the matter with you?”

  Leda heard a distinct click from the other end, and Samantha stared at the receiver in her hand. “The dispatcher told me to do whatever the vampires said, that they’re not sending squad cars out anymore.” Samantha slammed down the phone. “It’s a free-for-all gang war out here.”

  The screaming in the courtyard died into a gurgle. After a moment’s silence came a polite knock on the door.

  “Terrific,” Samantha said. “What’s worse? Two demons with guns or five vampires without them?”

  They heard the unmistakable sound of locks clicking as the three deadbolts on Samantha’s front door unlocked themselves. The door swung open on a wave of dark magic, and the leather-coated vampire stood in the doorway.

  “The vermin are dead,” he said in his calm voice. “You are under my protection now.”

  Leda continued to conjure wards. “Gee, thanks. Forgive me if I don’t do a happy dance.”

  The vampire gave her a smooth smile. “My name is Septimus. I am the acquaintance of a witch called Amber Silverthorne.”

  “Never heard of her,” Leda said, then she stopped. There had been a witch in the Coven of Light named Susan Silverthorne, although Leda had never met her in person. Susan was a powerful witch, one of the most adamant against messing with death magic. “Why would a witch make friends with a vampire?”

  Again the faint smile. “Why indeed? To prevent the end of the world, perhaps.”

  “You mean the draining of life magic?” Leda demanded. “Why would you care about that?”

  “And why would a vampire want to work with a witch against demons?” Samantha put in.

  Septimus tilted his head and contemplated them with his flat sunglasses. Leda realized he wore them so he wouldn’t catch them in his vampire gaze, and it interested her that he and his vamps took the precaution. One look into the eyes of a vampire as powerful as t
his Septimus and she and Samantha would be drooling blood slaves before they knew what happened.

  “First,” Septimus said, his voice even. “I hate demons. I’d side with anyone and his dog against them. Second, an Immortal turned rogue has teamed up with a demon to end the world. Third, I enjoy my un-life, every brilliant facet of it. Why should I let a demon like Kehksut ruin it for me?”

  Leda stared at him. “Did you say an Immortal?”

  “An Immortal who’s gone insane,” Septimus answered. “If you think a death-magic creature run amok is bad, I assure you, a life-magic creature out of control is worse. He’s convinced he’s on the side of good, you see. He’s lost everything, and now he’s trying to ease his pain.”

  Samantha gave Leda a wild look. “You told me Hunter had lost his family. You didn’t tell me it made him crazy.”

  “It can’t be Hunter,” Leda said quickly. “He didn’t know what was going on until the Undine told him about the death-magic drain.”

  Septimus’ dark brows rose. “You know Hunter?”

  Leda gave him a wary nod, and Septimus looked her up and down as though understanding exactly how she knew him.

  “Interesting, but it isn’t Hunter,” Septimus said. “I’ve had the pleasure, if you can call it that, of meeting Hunter, once, long ago. Though Hunter is quite insane in his own way, it is his brother Tain who has teamed up with the demon. I encountered this demon, and believe me, he is as powerful as the Immortals themselves. And now the demon and Tain work together. You can imagine what evil deeds they’re up to.”

  “Hunter mentioned Tain,” Leda said in surprise. “He said Tain was a healer.”

  “Maybe he was once. He is a force of destruction now.” Septimus straightened his gloves. “You are not safe here. I will take you to my club, where you can be protected. My vampires will patrol this neighborhood, which belongs to me now, but that does not mean the demons would not attack in force.”

  Samantha’s eyes widened. “And we’ll be safer at a vampire club?”

  “Much safer than you will be here.” Septimus slanted his sunglasses-covered gaze at Leda. “If you, witch, are truly a friend of Hunter’s, and he discovers I did not protect you with every power I have, he will light up his fire-sword and try to part my head from my shoulders—again. I fought him once.” He grimaced. “Once was enough.”

  “You obviously survived,” Leda said.

  “Barely. He let me live after three days of constant fighting. He got bored, which is the only reason I was allowed to walk away.” Septimus made a polite gesture. “Please, ladies, my limousine is waiting to take us downtown.”

  “You must think we’re crazy,” Samantha said, hands on hips.

  “Wait.” Leda stopped her. “Who is this witch you talked about? Amber. Is she related to Susan Silverthorne?”

  “Susan was her sister’s name, yes.”

  “Was?” Leda asked, cautious.

  “Amber’s sister Susan is dead. Murdered by the very demon who enslaved Tain. I assisted Amber and Adrian, the oldest Immortal brother, in trying to find out what happened to her and why.”

  “Dead,” Leda repeated, stunned. Susan had been one of the most powerful witches in the Coven of Light.

  “Slain by the demon while she was trying to find out what happened to Tain. Her sister has taken up the fight with Adrian. They and the Coven of Light invoked the Calling spell, but Kehksut interfered, and the Immortals were scattered. Adrian and Amber wait while the rest of us try to find the Immortals and gather them to stop the storm.”

  “Very poetic,” Samantha said.

  “But easy enough to verify,” Leda said. “I’ll need to make a phone call.”

  Chapter Ten

  Leda expected a chilly welcome from Yvonne, head of the Los Angeles branch of the Coven of Light witches, but the voice on the other end of the phone exuded relief. “Leda, I’m so glad to hear from you. We’re having a lot of trouble.”

  “And you need all the help you can get?”

  Yvonne sounded a little embarrassed when she answered. “Something like that. Coven of Light members, at least the ones in L.A., are being stalked and killed—in horrible ways. You might be safe because you weren’t here for . . .” She trailed off, as though wondering how much she should reveal.

  “Because I didn’t participate in the Calling spell?” Leda finished.

  Yvonne made a startled noise. “How did you know about that?”

  “A little vampire told me. He’s trying to convince us he’s legit and on our side, so tell me all about the Calling.”

  Leda listened to Yvonne’s tale in growing amazement. As Septimus claimed, the Coven had joined remotely with Amber in Seattle to form a circle to Call the Immortals. Adrian, the oldest Immortal, had declared that only the brothers together could stop Tain and his demon. Now the Coven members and Adrian’s friends were searching the earth for the missing Immortals.

  “Septimus is on our side,” Yvonne finished. “He’s got most of the vampires in Los Angeles under his thumb—but not all of them, so be careful. Demon and vampire gangs are dividing the city between them, and Septimus is the only one fighting for us.”

  When Leda hung up the phone, her thoughts spun, sickening her. She could lose track of the world on her island, and most of the time she liked it that way—burying her pain in caring for the animals. But if Septimus and Yvonne were right, the island wouldn’t be safe for long, even with Hunter’s powerful magic shields. This problem would reach the corners of the earth and wipe out every living thing. The Undine, the strange water spirit, had sensed it coming.

  Yvonne had given Leda the phone number for Amber in Seattle before she’d hung up. Leda started to dial again, but Septimus moved impatiently.

  “Call her in the car. We need to go. This neighborhood is unstable.”

  Leda fetched the magical accoutrements she’d left upstairs then followed Septimus and Samantha out to a long black limousine with smoked-glass windows. The luxurious interior went with Septimus—leather seats, flat television screen, a stocked bar. Samantha looked around in interest mixed with distrust while Leda punched numbers into her cell phone to call Amber Silverthorne in Seattle.

  Hello, my name is Leda Stowe, and I’ve found an Immortal.

  The city was careening toward chaos, Hunter observed as the taxi wound through the streets toward the Los Angeles Police Department, Paranormal Division. He saw more than one group of demons lurking the shadows, and it was all he could do not to stop the driver so he could leap out and kill them. But he wanted to find Leda first—he’d enjoy himself slaughtering demons later.

  The police station confirmed Hunter’s chaos theory. They didn’t want to talk to him—to anyone. Hunter smelled the death magic permeating the building and realized the first thing the demons had done was take over the law enforcement. A fearful desk sergeant provided an address for Samantha.

  The same taxi driver took him to Pasadena, seeming to sense he’d be protected with Hunter. As they rode, the driver told Hunter about the demon and vampire gangs and the violence that had erupted lately, worse than the city had ever seen.

  The driver stopped in front of an innocuous-looking house, and got out when Hunter did, too afraid to remain in the car alone.

  The vampire guarding the house backed away from the lion that advanced on him until he was up against the wall. Hardly less frightening to the vamp was the muscle-bound warrior with the giant serpentine sword who held the sword’s tip to the vampire’s throat.

  “Where are they?” Hunter demanded.

  “Septimus took them,” the vamp’s words rushed from his mouth. “They’re safe with him. We didn’t touch them, I swear.”

  The vampire’s eyes widened with alarm, shining in the porch light. Hunter was one of the few beings who could look into a vamp’s eyes and not be ensnared. He read fear that went all the way to the back of this one’s brain, fear of Hunter in front of him, fear of Septimus if Septimus’s orders were disobeyed
.

  Behind him, the taxi driver said, “There’s a vamp called Septimus who runs a club downtown. He’s supposed to be a head honcho among vampires or something. When the gang wars started full throttle in the last couple of weeks, he staked out a large territory for himself.”

  The vampire’s fangs gleamed. “Staked? Was that supposed to be a joke?”

  “No,” the driver answered, paling.

  “Where is this club?” Hunter demanded.

  “Hunter?”

  The porch light seemed to dim, but it was Leda’s voice. Without moving his sword from the vampire’s throat, Hunter turned.

  She stood in the doorway, her blouse spreading to reveal the swell of her lovely breasts over a lace bra Hunter could just glimpse. When she moved close to him and touched him Hunter knew two things: He missed Leda more than he’d realized, and this woman wasn’t Leda.

  The taint of darkness over the woman was enough to make Hunter retch. He wondered who the hell she was and what she wanted.

  “You’re all right?” Hunter asked, playing along.

  Her warm fingers slid up his arm. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to abandon you. But they need you. Tain needs you.”

  The woman tugged at his hand, urging him to go into the house with her. Hunter didn’t want to linger here, but he sensed that finding out about this demon was important. Then he’d kill it.

  The vampire didn’t look as though he’d run off any time soon, and Mukasa had him pinned. Hunter said, “Be right back,” and let the Leda-demon lead him inside.

  The vampire said nothing, but Mukasa didn’t like Hunter going. The lion snarled, his eyes glowing yellow, his lips drawing back from long teeth. The door swung shut by itself behind Hunter, cutting off Mukasa’s growls.

  A bed stood right in the middle of the living room, swathed in black satin with a canopy of black curtains around it. The woman who looked like Leda undressed slowly, first her blouse, then the black lace bra, then her jeans and panties.

  She led Hunter to the bed and pushed him down onto the slick satin. Hunter lay still while she climbed on top of him, her knees on either side of his hips. Her long hair fell around her body in sweet ringlets.