by Rita Herron
But he didn’t have the power to vanquish Zion alone.
He needed his brothers and their combined powers. He didn’t know if he could trust them, but he had to take the chance.
He couldn’t leave Marlena here, though. The demons, the vampires, might find her and feed off her, so he picked her up and carried her through the tunnels to his house. Her limp body lay in his arms, her skin growing colder by the minute, until he laid her on his bed.
“I’ll be back for you,” he whispered, then pressed a kiss to her lips. “I won’t let Zion get away with this. I swear to you, I’ll make him pay.”
And if his brothers had already joined Zion, had had anything to do with Marlena’s death, he would kill them and bury them with his father.
Zion laughed as he watched his son Dante mourn over the woman. His grief would soon turn to anger and the need for revenge.
Dante was, after all, his son.
Edmund’s spirit drifted from the body and floated in front of him, a series of glowing particles and ectoplasm that shimmered in the stunning darkness of the night.
“I obeyed your commands, Master. Please give me life again,” Edmund pleaded.
Zion merely laughed. “You failed to bring me my son.,,
Edmund’s ghostly form shimmered and fluttered. “But I killed his demon child.”
“Yes, but you should have continued to make new demons for me instead of killing the bloodborn ones. Defying me in any way is unacceptable.” Zion raised his hands and flung them at the ghostly form, then issued his
demands. -
“You will be sent to the lowest realm of the underworld and live in the fiery pit of hell forever.”
“No!” Edmund screamed.
With one flick of his hand, the sentencing was done, and Edmund’s spirit disappeared into the underground.
Zion smiled in glee and gathered his minions around him to prepare for his sons. He called upon Father Gio and instructed him to send all the elements out with their weapons.
The war had begun.
Dante stalked through the tunnels, the anger in his dark soul stirring fantasies of death and torture, of destroying his father and watching his body turn to ashes and fade into the ground.
Excitement heated his blood at the thought.
The memory of Marlena’s cold body in his arms and an image of what his child would have looked like surfaced, adding to his guilt, yet intensifying his primal need for revenge.
He’d never thought he’d ask his brothers for help. But the time had come to either join with them or fight to the end.
He punched in Vincent’s number, his pulse clamoring as he waited on a response. Five rings later and he had to leave a message.
He threw the phone on the seat of the SUV with a, vicious curse and drove toward his place. He needed to hunt. To kill. To taste the blood of a demon as he had so many times before.
The dark beast within him hungered for flesh, for blood and death and destruction.
He parked at his house, stared into the dark woods beyond, and knew there were demons in the midst hunting as well. Some hunting the animals, others who would feed from the town if not stopped.
The evil pulled at him, beckoned him to venture into its erotic abyss, to take what he wanted without question. To vent his pain on others as he’d been taught by the demons.
Moving on instinct, he shuffled forward into the deep recesses of the woods. The snow and wind whirled around him, the clouds threatening another downpour. The elements were probably laughing now, enjoying themselves as they wreaked havoc on the land and forest. The sound of the creek rising to the east roared through the night, promising destruction to the town.
He blundered on, the scent of a wild animal driving him, the smell of blood, a demon and the sound of werecreatures beckoning.
He belonged here in this tangle of lost souls and spirits and evil cravings.
Not in a home with beautiful Marlena or a child. But God help him, he’d wanted that.
His legs buckled, and he sank to the snow-packed ground and howled his fury and anguish. Somewhere close by, he heard laughter echoing off the mountain.
His father’s hideous laughter.
No, he didn’t belong with Marlena or a child of his own.
But dammit, he wanted them with every ounce of his being.
Only he’d lost them forever.
And his father was celebrating his victory as pain racked him senseless.
But suddenly a noise erupted through the fog of his grief.
He lifted his head and inhaled the scent of a human in the woods. An innocent.
His dark, baser instincts surged to life, the blood roaring in his head. He stalked toward it, the rage eating at his soul spurring him forward. The need to vent, to remember the man he used to be when caring about a human was not part of him, when he didn’t feel, when he didn’t know this kind of grief and loss, overwhelmed him.
He had to drive away the pain. Remember what he was.
Who he was. What he was meant to be.
What had been drilled and beaten into him for years, that he was a demon, a killer. He needed to draw on those lessons so he could tap into his demonic soul.
That demonic part of him would bolster the strength he needed to kill his father.
He kicked snow and brush aside, waded through the overflowing creek, stalked through the forest. A vulture was feeding on the dead carcass of an animal, then he heard noises—voices—floating to him in the wind.
“It’s spooky out here,” a young girl said in a shaky voice. “Come on, Jon, let’s go back.”
“No, it’s raining. Let’s sneak into the cave and we’ll have some privacy.”
Stupid teenagers. Any demon in the area could attack them and chomp them to pieces in seconds. Him included.
The girl spotted him, then gasped and jumped behind the boy, clutching him with blood-red fingernails. The boy’s eyes widened, but he squared his bony shoulders as if he was ready to fight for his girl. “Sheriff?”
Her innocence reminded him of Marlena as a child and resurrected his humanity. “Get out of there,” he shouted.. “This area is dangerous.”
The young couple scurried away in fear, and he turned and stalked back toward his house. He wouldn’t waste time on any of the smaller demons tonight. He wanted Zion.
His message light was blinking when he let himself inside. He grabbed the handset and checked the number.
Vincent.
A minute later, Vincent spoke. “Dante?”
Dante pinched the bridge of his nose and gasped for a breath as he connected the call. “We have to destroy Zion.”
“What happened to Marlena? Quinton had a premonition that she died.”
He choked back emotions. “He killed her. Zion used Raysen to kill her.”
A tense second, stretched between them. “Meet me at my house,” Vincent said. “I’ll call Quinton and tell him to come. Together we can bring Zion down.”
Dante’s throat thickened as the image of Marlena dying taunted him. “Just give me the address. I’m on my way.” If Vincent or Quinton was lying to him, he’d kill them then. But first he needed to know where to find his father.
Vincent gave him GPS coordinates, and Dante hung up and rushed to his SUV. He started the engine, then scrubbed at his eyes as he tore down the mountain. His entire life spread before him in an array of sickening images. His life with the demons, with Father Gio and the elements when he was young. The torture and the brutal exercises they’d forced him to endure. The battles and hunts for innocents to be sacrificed.
The fights with opposing demons to prove his strength.
The day of the, initiation. Father Gio ordering him to kill Marlena. Her mother screaming at the demons to let them go.
His first sliver of humanity surfacing when he’d seen the fear and youth and hope in Marlena’s eyes.
Being with her had almost made him feel human.
His hands .gripped th
e steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, and sweat beaded his skin as he fought to keep the car on the road. The creek running beside the road was overflowing, flooding the street, and cars were already stranded along the highway. He flipped on the radio and tensed at the news report. “The residents of Mysteria are being asked to evacuate to higher ground. There are reports of two deaths already from flood-related accidents, the subdivision on the east side of town is half under water, and the weatherman has predicted that more floods and tornadoes are on the way. But Mysteria isn’t the only town having problems. A hurricane is due in the Gulf, and California has reported an earthquake—”
Dante flipped off the radio, certain Zion was responsible. If he thought Dante would join him in the underworld now, he was wrong.
He would destroy him instead and put an end to his reign of terror.
It wouldn’t bring Marlena or his child back, but he’d do it in memory of them.
Marlena was so cold. Cold and alone.
Oddly, there was no pain anymore, just a fleeting feeling of having lost something important. A sensation of floating as if she had drifted from her body and was watching the scene below her.
She lay in a dark cavelike room on a blanket, a slice of moon illuminating her deathly still body. Blood soaked her blouse and chest, her skin was pale white.
Dante was gone. And so was the demon who’d stabbed her. The ‘demon who’d told her that Dante had been sent to kill her.
Was this really death?
The end ‘of her life on Earth?
Shock and anger gripped her as she realized what she would miss. She and Dante would never be together. Her baby would never be born.
She would never finish her work, never find that cure for violent and aberrant behavior.
The darkness beckoned, voices whispering to her to join them. An evil voice promising eternal life if she offered her soul to walk with Satan. Skeletal fingers clawed at her, begging her to join the undead as they defied nature and returned to the land of the living.
But those were the very evil forces who had tortured Dante. The ones he’d fought to save her. The ones in human form that she’d tried, to cure with her research.
She would never become one of them.
Then a bright white light broke into the churning tunnel, trying to draw her into its peaceful core, a light so beautiful and alluring’ that she turned away from that dark tunnel and gravitated toward it.
Heaven. . . the light she’d heard about, it did exist. Soft, entrancing, soothing, peaceful, it beckoned.
Her mother was there, standing in its midst, her little sister beside her, her hand enfolded in her mother’s. Sparkling crystalline lights shimmered around them in a halo, like tiny diamonds glowing against an inky darkness.
She wanted to dive into it, to let the peaceful light wash over her and assuage the pain of her failures and the loss of her future.
Her future lay here now with her mother and sister.
She reached out her hand, stepped toward the light to walk into it and join them.
Chapter Thirty-two
The light had completely disintegrated in Dante’s mind and soul.
It had died with Marlena and his child.
How could he have failed them?
Vengeance hurled him through the storm as he battled the wind and blinding rain on his way toward Eerie. He and his brothers had to formulate a plan, a foolproof plan to destroy Zion.
And not just destroy him but torture him, make him stiffer.
Tension knotted his shoulders as he wound up the curves toward Vincent’s cabin. Oddly for the home of a powerful demon, the place looked homey. Normal.
Nothing about his life had been normal, though, and it never would be. Their demon blood had cursed him forever.
He parked the SUV, stray limbs pelting him as the vicious wind ripped them from the trees and hurled them across the yard.
He tugged his jacket around him and jogged up to the porch, then climbed the steps. He’d never thought he’d come here for help. But he needed his brothers now to exact his revenge.
And nothing would stop him from doing so.
In spite of the weather, Quinton had already arrived, and the two men met him at the door. Two women stood by a fire, both looking worried and anxious. Again, he wondered if he could trust them, but he had no choice. He needed help.
And vengeance against Zion was worth the chance.
“This is my wife, Annabelle Armstrong,” Quinton said as he slid a protective arm around her shoulders.
Dante recognized her from CNN. “You know what we are and you married him anyway?”
She gave a small laugh and pressed a kiss to Quinton’s cheek. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”
Vincent cleared his throat. “And this is my wife, Clarissa. She is a medium.”
Dante studied her serious, pensive face. “You talk to the dead?”
She nodded. “I’m so sorry about Dr. Bender.”
He sucked in a painful breath. “Have you seen her spirit?
She shook her head. “No, but that’s not unusual. When a person first passes, some souls go into shock. It takes time for the souls to realize what’s happened.” She paused and offered a sympathetic smile. “Of course, she has a good soul. There’s always the possibility that she’s at peace, that she has already crossed into the light.”
His chest ached at the thought that she was gone forever. That his child would never be born.
A soul-deep ache hit him, and rage once again heated his blood.
“Tell us what happened,” Vincent said. “Who killed
Dante tried to pull himself together. He had to vanquish Zion, then he could mourn his lost family. “Dr. Edmund Raysen.”
“Raysen, the doctor who worked with Dr. Bender?” Vincent scrubbed a hand over his chin.
“Yes. Apparently he stole the blood from her research project and used it in his own sick experiment. He even used himself as a subject. Then he showed us a flash drive documenting the experiment that he claimed was Snëed’s.”
“It wasn’t Sneed’s?” Quinton asked.
“No.”
“What was on the flash drive?” Vincent asked.
“Notes revealing his subjects were experiencing disturbing reactions, including violent behavior, schizophrenia, sexual deviancy, and bloodlust. So he turned those subjects into his hit list.”
“Why would he do that?” Annabelle asked.
“I don’t know. Either he feared the others would turn violent as well, or he didn’t want news of his experiment to be revealed and his reputation to be tainted.”
Vincent crossed his arms. “He thought he was doing a noble thing by killing his test subjects?”
“Raysen wasn’t noble. In the end, he killed Marlena.” Dante stiffened, a coldness seeping through him that he’d lived with for years and battled. A coldness he embraced now. He would need all his demonic strength and power to defeat his father. “Zion was responsible. Raysen confirmed that he ordered him to destroy my child.”
Dante studied his brothers’ faces. “He also said that you two had joined Zion’s side.”
Vincent and Quinton exchanged wary looks. “Zion will do anything to try to divide us, because he knows our powers combined can destroy him.”
Dante felt a surge of emotion—of kinship to his blood brothers. He’d been alone his entire life. Had never wanted or needed anyone.
But he would accept their help to end Zion’s reign of terror.
His fingers felt tingly, the heat already seeping through him, the need to use his power to turn his father into ashes shooting adrenaline through him.
“Where do we find Zion?” he asked.
Vincent spoke. “The cave of black rock in the Black Forest. It’s his palace on Earth and the place where he killed our mother.”
Dante gave a clipped nod. “Then let’s go to the ‘Black Forest.”
Trees snapped and popped, branches hurling thr
ough the air at lightning speed as Dante drove his brothers around the mountain toward the Black Forest. The gray sky had grown darker, bleaker, the wind so ferocious that it bounced the SUV all over the road, and Dante had to fight to keep the vehicle in line.
“We can only go so far, then we’ll have to hike through the Black Forest,” Vincent said. “We’ll have to be prepared to battle the demons and spirits trapped in the Wasteland of the Lost Souls.”
An eighteen-wheeler skidded and careened out of control ahead of them, sliding toward the emergency exit ramp to avoid plunging over the mountain. Rain pelted the windshield, a wind tunnel swirling above as if another tornado was chasing them.
Dante glanced up and grimaced. “Get off my tail, Storm,” he muttered between clenched teeth. Anger railed through him at the thought that the men he’d once considered family were teaming up with Zion against him.
He speeded up, but the tornado, too, picked up speed, sucked up trees by the roots and tossed them through the air like tiny limbs. The forest on each side screamed with animals scurrying to take cover, and out of nowhere a flock of falcons dove as if to escape the charging storm.
Vincent pointed to the right. “Take that dirt road. It’s narrow, but it’s a short cut.”
A deer skidded across the road in front of him, and Dante braked and slid sideways to avoid hitting it, slowing slightly as he steered the vehicle onto the dirt road. He downshifted, gears grinding as the SUV bounced over gravel, potholes, and broken limbs.
“There’s a creek bed up ahead,” Vincent pointed out. “Hopefully the bridge is still intact.”
Dante accelerated, the giant oaks and pines creating a tunnel that shielded them from some of the downpour. But the tornado chased them, ripping a tree beside them from its roots and flinging it into the road in front of them. Dante slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop, the SUV’s front smashing into the giant oak with a bang.
“Dammit,” Dante snarled.
“Turn around and we’ll take another side road~” Vincent said.
His tires dug into the slushy, icy ground, flinging debris as he shifted into reverse and sped in the other direction. Another tree cracked and fell in a roar, then a row of pines snapped and toppled like dominos falling.