She switched her mindset to work. “Lora’s former employers live beyond the main cluster of prime families. I’ve never been there, but I’ll park outside the perimeter of the property and we can flash-run there like you and Antonia did when you came to the compound.”
He nodded. “Only I won’t be riddled with holes this time.”
Him dripping blood on her doorstep hadn’t been more than mildly stimulating at the time. Now the thought of it sent her heart pounding. She had to shut that shit off. To do her job, she had to leave her partner to fend for himself; otherwise they could both get into trouble. It was why she worked alone. No one to worry about but herself.
She’d sent someone she loved away with the sunrise once. She wasn’t strong enough to do it again.
It was a quiet drive. Demetrius thumbed through his phone. The guy never quit working.
Bastian was intent on the world around him. The sun was down, but the dying rays chased away the worst of the shadows. As she drove through downtown Freemont, she wished she could watch his reaction instead of the road. He stared at the tall glass buildings. Pale reds and yellows glinted off their windows and reflected the evening sky, making it seem less like they were in the heart of the city and more like the countryside had infiltrated the urban district. Had he never come this far into Freemont? The suburbs closest to the Gastons’ manor were probably all he’d needed—grocery stores, mechanic shops, strip malls. And she’d heard online shopping had been a boon to her kind, but she didn’t even have an Amazon account.
By the time they’d crossed into residential neighborhoods on their way out of town, full night had fallen.
“Is this the closest to sunset you’ve gotten?” Ophelia asked.
He chuckled. “Was I acting like a tourist? Yes, since I was a kid and living on the streets. There were too many close calls, so once I was working at the estate, I made sure to never dally again. But…I miss the spike of adrenaline it gives me. More potent than your strong coffee.”
“My coffee is strong,” she agreed.
There were no wiles with Bastian. He was honest to a fault, only she couldn’t fault him for it.
She slowed down the deeper they got into the trees. The families living out this far were familiar, but this part of Freemont wasn’t.
“Here’s County Road 83. Their land starts here.” She found a worn utility road and pulled off onto it, then backed into the shallowest part of the ditch. Branches and long, brittle grass scraped the car, but she kept going until the car was concealed to her satisfaction.
He set his coffee in the drink holder and peered around. “How far do you think it is?” he asked.
“They own the freaking lake that’s north of us. It might be quite far.”
“Good. I need some time to get my nerves under control.”
She smiled. He’d said it lightly, but honesty rang in his words. Did she ever fight a case of nerves anymore? She usually relished the thought of a fight, and it was no different tonight when it came to Lora.
Butterflies and jitters only visited her when Bastian was around.
She got out and softly clicked her door shut. Bastian and Demetrius followed suit.
“Lead the way,” Demetrius told her. “This is your op to run tonight.”
She took off at a run, flashing stretches between the trees. Little noise was made—none by her, and Bastian was controlling his footfalls and breathing.
His time at the cabin had prepared him well for navigating the terrain. She’d missed the sunrise this morning. With the upheaval Bastian created in her mind, she should’ve stayed and watched it and sent him on his way.
It was her cabin after all.
Deep down, that didn’t ring true. His family had owned it and he was still alive. He’d abandoned it, but whoever had claimed it hadn’t known Bastian’s fate. While she’d paid a negligible amount for it, Bastian might feel ownership over it.
The manor came into sight.
Hellfire, it was huge. It was larger than her childhood home, more expansive than the Gastons’. And, of course, the Segals’ place couldn’t compare. No wonder they’d been honored to have Lora work for them.
She slowed. They needed to remain undercover, but the trees had been neglected. Branches hung down and limbs littered the ground. Several had fallen to lay twisted and dead from the brutal winters Freemont could experience.
Bastian stuck close behind her but still at a distance where they wouldn’t collide. Demetrius brought up the rear.
Ophelia stopped flashing and used a snail’s pace to get closer. She angled away from the front. A former servant would want to use the portions of the manor she was more comfortable with.
The back of the estate came into view, but they had to circle out farther to get a look beyond the outcropping of one of the wings.
“Someone’s been here recently,” Ophelia said under her breath. Bastian would be able to hear her, but her words wouldn’t carry to the house.
The snow around the back door had been trampled. No new snow had fallen for days, so it was hard to tell when the prints had been made, but it confirmed her suspicions that Lora was taking advantage of the abandonment of her former quarters.
The question was, was Lora here now? And was Quentin?
They were too far away to smell brimstone. And she didn’t know the layout of the manor. Otherwise they could take another way inside.
It was night. Quentin was missing. Lora was on the run. If she was here with him, then it was unlikely they were alone. At the very least, the male from the club was here. And possibly the guy from the night Antonia was attacked.
“We flash to the sides of the back door and sneak in.” She palmed a knife. It was less cumbersome than handling a pistol. She couldn’t walk into the demons’ den without something immediate in her hand.
Bastian did the same, but he held it like he was going to chop more mushrooms. And since that was how he was familiar with it, it might serve him better to hack at their enemies like he was prepping a stew.
Demetrius lifted a brow at the move but didn’t adjust his grip either.
Ophelia pointed to herself, then to the door. She jabbed a finger at him and Demetrius, then to the other side of the door. Her on one side of the door, him on the other. He nodded and tensed.
They all flashed.
The scent of brimstone clung to the air by the servant’s entrance. One way or another she was getting answers tonight. And if Quentin was in here, blood would be shed to free him and she’d relish spilling it.
She inched the door open. No noise and the stale odor of a long-abandoned house greeted her. Wherever they were at, it was deep in the mansion. She slithered inside, her moves blending with the shadows. Bastian was almost as stealthy. Demetrius closed the door behind them.
The atmosphere inside was stale but thick with sulfur. Bonus: the three of them would stink so thoroughly it’d be hard to scent them.
They crept along the corridor, looking, listening, and feeling for any vibrations on the air.
They came to one room with a door flung open wide. She peered inside. A living area for the staff. It’d been inhabited recently. The cot had a crumpled blanket, and soda cans and empty chips bags littered the floor.
She’d think a teenage boy had been held captive here, but the stench of demon was too powerful. More likely it was the demon that had bonded Lora to roam this realm freely—and developed a taste for junk food.
They inched farther down the hall and crossed another room, her in the lead, Demetrius bringing up the rear. The brimstone stench was weaker, but the room had been slept in recently.
The corridor was growing wider and more opulent. The brick was more refined, and the hardwood flooring still maintained its luster, though it had faded somewhat over the last couple of years of neglect.
“—leave!” A female’s voice rang down the passageway.
Bastian tapped her arm and
pointed to an opening she’d mistaken for an empty room. It was a concealed stairwell.
They silently descended. Ophelia kept every muscle tense and ready to spring.
Male voices argued, two of them, but Ophelia couldn’t make out the words.
Lora’s words were clear. “I said leave me.”
They cleared the stairs and faced another maze of hallways.
“Female,” a male snarled, “you do not command me.”
“I do if you want this kid to say the words.”
A whimper echoed from one of the rooms.
Quentin.
Ophelia snuck a peek over her shoulder to make sure Bastian wasn’t going to lose his edge and charge to the rescue. His stormy expression said he wanted to, but he was planted and waiting for her command.
Good.
She flowed toward the voices and calculated their options. Two males and a female. Lora was vicious, but she probably wasn’t a fighter, nor was she possessed. Of the two males, one was a demon and the other a possessed vampire. Formidable. A possessed host didn’t have to know how to fight if the demon inside did.
Both demons had already proven they had skills by simply surviving to adulthood in the underworld.
Were there any others? Was Quentin bound or being held down?
She stopped just outside the room they held him in.
One of the males spoke. “If he hasn’t said the spell by now, why would leaving make a difference?”
“I hope I didn’t bond with the dunce of the underworld,” Lora sneered. Ophelia’s brow popped. The maid might not be a fighter, but she dripped venom with her words. “Get out while I fix the mess the both of you made.”
Ophelia glanced at Demetrius. She motioned to herself and the room, then to him and the hallway. Demetrius nodded, but Bastian looked confused. She slowed it down and wagged her fingers back and forth to indicate her rushing into the room. She pointed at them to take care of whatever came out. Demetrius would back her up while sticking close to Bastian.
He nodded, determination etched in his features.
They paused outside the opening. The demon who’d bonded to Lora obviously hated her ordering him around. But if he listened to her, he’d be the one charging out of the room.
Ophelia would snicker if it wouldn’t give them away.
“You will watch how you speak to me, female,” one of the males growled.
“Or what? You’ll divorce me? News flash, Shankre, we’re not humans. You’ve terrified this kid so bad he can’t form a coherent word and our friend can’t take over. If you want his cooperation, you need me to loosen him up.”
She exchanged a look with Demetrius. Shankre. She filed the information away to ask Stryke or Quution. If the second vampire in the room wasn’t a prime, then he was probably inhabited by a second-tier, one that worked with Shankre.
“You will pay if he fails us,” the second male said. “I won’t be able to save you.”
Bastian tapped her arm. He pointed to the room and mouthed That’s him with an expression that was a mixture of shock, rage, and triumph. The vampire host getting driven by an unidentified demon was the same male from the night they’d tried to coerce Antonia. He was real, he was here, and he had driven Bastian and Antonia from their home.
“As if you could,” Lora sneered. “You’d be too busy hiding in the pantry with the madam.”
“Now’s not the time for jealousy,” Shankre growled.
On any other day, she’d go in swinging and relish the challenge of taking them all down. An ask-questions-later sort of thing, especially with Demetrius there to back her up. But with Quentin’s vulnerability and Bastian’s lack of experience, she’d put them both at risk. So far they had the element of surprise, and she’d have to use it.
Lora muttered something that sounded like bond mates don’t grow on trees. Heavy footfalls approached the opening.
Ophelia glanced at Bastian to confirm he knew his part. He brandished his knife, his expression grim.
As Lora’s mate turned the corner, Ophelia ducked and darted in under the male’s elbow. She might hate being petite and what that said about her childhood, but she’d be an idiot not to use the advantage.
Clearing the doorway, she quickly assessed the situation. Lora stood, her mouth gaping in astonishment, by a young male cowering on the floor. His leg was tied to an anchor mounted in the floor. Quentin had been chained like a dog.
The other male, the one she and Bastian had been searching for, launched into a flurry of motion. He was heading for her.
She planted her feet, and when he got into swinging range, she popped her fist out.
His vampire speed worked against him. Bone crunched under her knuckles as the blow traveled down her arm and threatened to shove her backward.
She didn’t give an inch.
The male recoiled, his head snapping back, blood droplets flying. He recovered quickly, but Ophelia had already drawn her weapon.
She fired at Lora. The sound resonated in the room like a gong to their sensitive ears, but Ophelia had been prepared for it.
Quentin flinched and shouted. He curled into a ball and covered his head. Lora dropped, the bullet lodged in the middle of her skull.
Bull’s-eye.
Ophelia smiled grimly at the male. Grunts and scuffles carried in from the hallway.
Bastian, you’d better not get yourself killed.
The male across from her tensed like he was ready to charge but was going to be more cautious this time.
Ophelia lunged forward, again taking him off guard.
Underestimation, party of one?
With lightning speed, she sliced with her knife. He cried out, but kicked, knocking her off-balance. She spun into the move, but he’d closed the distance. His eyes were pure black and full of murder.
The demon was definitely in charge.
He encompassed her in an iron bear hug with her back to him and twisted. The move was so fast, her feet lifted from the ground and she dropped her weapons. Metal clattered to the floor. She slammed her heels back into his legs. He grunted in pain but squeezed harder.
Popping sounds emanated from her rib cage. She tried to inhale a huge breath, but his hold was too solid.
Raining her feet down, she hammered at his kneecaps. When he loosened his grip, she used his poor strategy. He thought he had her.
She dipped her head as far as she could, then crashed it back into his nose.
That worked. His arms flailed, and she dropped to her feet. She spun and crouched, her hands at the ready. He was doubled over, holding his hands to his nose.
Instead of a frontal attack, she launched herself around him. Jumping on his back, she wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and reached her free hand to her belt to secure another blade.
He roared and lunged backward, losing his footing. Oh. Shit.
She dropped her hold and rolled away before they hit the floor. She popped up, dagger in hand, her dropped gun just out of reach. The male righted himself and bared his fangs. He inched toward her.
Enough of this. She let the knife fly. It lodged in his chest but didn’t slow his advance. That wasn’t her goal.
She dove to one side, scooped up her gun, aimed, and fired. The whole move took less than a second.
Yes. Middle of the forehead again. He dropped.
Moans came from Lora’s direction, but she was as good as incapacitated with the lead in her brain. The vampire host, though, he was too dangerous with the demon inside. Some demons could access their powers while in a host. This demon hadn’t tried anything yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. Demons were tricky and arrogant and he could’ve been caught in the tangle.
She withdrew a short wooden stake and stepped over the male.
His eyelids pried open.
“Buh-bye.” She swung the stake in an arc. It hit just to the side of his breastbone to impale his heart.
&
nbsp; She leapt away as a portal to the underworld opened underneath him.
Quentin was chained, he’d be fine. She grabbed ahold of Lora’s ankle and dragged her as far away as she could as fast as she could.
Quentin curled into a tighter ball. Lora was blinking and groaning.
The yawn of the portal was closed again within seconds and the room fell quiet.
Except for the fight still taking place in the hall.
Dammit. She stomped her boot into Lora’s face. The female went limp and Ophelia ran to the hall.
Demetrius was in a chokehold and getting slammed against the wall. His weapons were hovering around him and the male he fought. Bastian was snatching them out of the air as fast as the demon ripped them out of his hands to levitate them again. The blades shuddered and jerked toward Bastian, but he ducked and twirled. Fighting with Demetrius was keeping the demon too distracted to aim properly.
The other male was humanoid with burly arms and legs and short, sharp horns. Hopefully his only abilities were telekinetic.
Knives slashed at Bastian’s back. His blood tinged the air. The gun was swirling around them, too, but the demon must be hesitant to use it in case he hit himself.
That was actually a smart move.
Demetrius’s face was red and his nose streamed blood. Shankre, too, was bleeding from his nose and mouth, and blood stained his shirt. Demetrius kept ramming him and the demon into the wall. Dust rained down on all their heads. They were going to take out the whole structure.
She tightened her grip around her gun and treaded around them.
“Get back, Ophelia.” Bastian lunged for something behind her.
A stabbing pain lanced through her shoulder.
She curled her lip over a fang and craned her neck around. A handle stuck from her back.
Well, the demon knew she was there.
Demetrius was turning a nasty shade of gray. He was running out of air, using it all up as he rammed elbows back into the demon.
Shankre’s gaze met hers. His lips curled back to reveal blackened, jagged teeth.
She tilted her head to consider him. One of his eyes twitched.
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