He left and quietly closed the door. He checked his watch. Ten thirty. David and Nate would arrive in an hour and half. Enough time for a quick shower to wash away Twyla’s scent. He inhaled as he walked down the hall to his room. Her fragrance on his clothes and hands teased him and wouldn’t let go, making him remember how soft she’d been in his bed those years ago and enticing him to draw her into his arms and love her again.
In his bathroom, Val kicked off his shoes next to the double-sink vanity. He reached in and turned on the shower as hot as it would go. It couldn’t begin to touch his dragon’s heat. He stripped, dropped his clothes on the floor, and stepped beneath the forceful spray. Good. So good.
He tipped his head back and let the water run through his hair, over his tense shoulders, and down his abs. He stood there for a long time—until the water began to cool—allowing the forceful spray to beat on him. But it couldn’t drive away his doubts and fears. Finally, he washed, dried, and dressed in fresh clothes.
The master bedroom was downstairs situated behind the living room and a wall that housed a large fireplace and concealed wall. Walking quietly, he angled his head up, listening for any indication that Twyla had roused.
Time for a drink. He was almost at the bar when the doorbell rang. David or Nate had arrived early. He abruptly changed direction, intending to reach the door before they rang again and woke Twyla.
He yanked open the door. Neither David or Nate greeted him. Nora stood in the entry, her arms crossed. Twyla’s mom looked like a bear protecting her cub. “Twyla is here, right? She okay? The last time I saw her, she was unconscious. And when I stopped by her house, I saw the horrible marks.”
Finally, she stopped fussing at him and he could get a word in. “She’s fine. She’s sleeping in the guest room. Would you like to come in?” he asked, feeling a bit put out that she had shown up on his doorstep. Dave and Nate would be here any minute. Nora would realize that he hadn’t invited her to the spur-of-the-moment meeting. With Twyla involved, the sorceress was too close to the situation. Now, he’d have little choice but to include her.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“May I see her?”
“She’s sleeping. But if you must, the room is upstairs on the right.”
She squinted at him curiously. Maybe because he made no move to escort her.
“David and Nate will be here shortly to discuss the latest implication of the mark on her home.” There was no sense hiding it from her.
“The three of you are meeting outside of Vulcan Council?” she asked sharply.
“It isn’t council business. I asked David as head of the archangels. The sudden turn of events warrants a discussion,” he said, his voice brusque. “It’s for Twyla’s safety. I could act alone, but I’m afraid the community may not like my solution.” He gave a sarcastic smile.
“Sorry. I jumped to conclusions. You should have called me, though.”
“You are too close to the situation.”
“Snake balls. I’m as impartial as the next person.”
Val choked out a laugh. “Right. Snakes don’t have balls.”
“That depends on if the snake is a vampire. In that case, I twist them right off.” She cupped her fingers in the air as if she were plucking a plum with a wrench of her hand and made a popping sound with her tongue against her cheek.
He shuddered. The doorbell rang again. The clock on the mantle struck midnight.
The evening hadn’t gone as planned since leaving the angel’s sanctuary. Apprehension whisked through him as he opened the door and ushered David and Nate inside.
As they were heading to the living room to sit, David lifted a brow and angled his head toward Nora as if wondering why she was there. He had told them the three of them were meeting.
Val ignored them. “Anyone want a drink?” He still hadn’t made it to the bar.
“Bourbon,” David said.
“Me, too,” Nate added.
“Same,” Nora chimed in.
The three males glanced at her, seeming a little surprised be her choice. “I happen to like whiskey,” Nora said as she swept the black tips of her hair to fall back over her shoulders.
Val fixed the drinks and distributed them. Silence hung in the air as they consumed inaugural sips. He didn’t sit, instead choosing to pace.
He’d taken three back and forth lengths by the open side of the seating arrangement, contemplating where to begin. Pausing, then tipping his glass, he took a long swallow, almost finishing his bourbon.
“I believe we have a bigger problem than we thought. I don’t think the veaklings are working alone. The stain on Twyla’s door had the three claw marks. Made by a demon,” Val said. And demons were such a pain in the ass to deal with.
Twyla scrunched her lips. “I hope you’re wrong.”
“Consider this. Payton Grey has been in jail for a year. In the beginning, he was a little-known veakling. He wasn’t on our radar at all until Vampire Czar Connor Langley asked for our help and brought him to the council’s attention. We’ve kept him locked up because the evidence has been conflicting. Connor had indicated a smuggling issue. Each time we find evidence against Payton, someone comes forward to contradict it. The veakling uprising has steadily increased, and now…this mark. Perhaps they’ve gotten cocky and revealed the controlling identity behind our problems. Perhaps the masterminds directing the veaklings are demons.”
The group glanced at one another, each trying to judge what the other paranormal thought.
“That’s a whole new ball game,” David said.
“Why?” Nate finished the last of his drink and set the tumbler on the end table. “Why would they get involved with vampires?”
“Brindles and broomsticks, the lower demons don’t act alone. This could run much deeper than we imagine.” Nora stood and strolled to the stone fireplace, staring at the ashes as if searching for a clue there.
“But Nate has it. We need to find out why they are getting involved in Terror,” David said, shaking his head.
“It seems to have something to do with Payton Grey and the fact that Twyla has confined the vampire, allowing us to keep him in jail.” Val added.
“Payton, cobine, a smuggling ring…that’s what we’re aware of,” Nate said.
Nora turned a piercing gaze on all of them. “And Twyla’s tied to him because she helped the law and the council keep Payton under wraps.”
Val pound his fist into the palm of his other hand. “By dragon’s blood, I will not allow a demon to hurt someone I care about.” And he cared about Twyla more than he wanted to admit.
David frowned, his golden wings moving with an inhaled breath.
“I knew you hadn’t gotten over her,” Nora chortled. “My readings are always unclear regarding my children, but there have been hints about the two of you.”
Val glared at her.
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to her.”
“Okay. Back on subject,” David interjected. “What do you propose we do about the demons? We should inform the rest of the council, but I suggest we develop a plan before we tell them.”
From the direction of the curved staircase came Twyla’s raspy voice. “What’s this about demons?”
Val turned, looking over his shoulder. Twyla traveled gracefully down the last few steps, past the rectangular, glass dining room table, and into the living area.
She looked beautiful with her long, flowing, black hair falling over her shoulders and her eyes heavy from sleep. She stopped near him, taking in the group, including her mother.
Nora sighed dramatically. “At least those vampires didn’t bite you, dear.” Then to Nate, she added, “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“I’m sorry we woke you,” Val said.
“You didn’t. I’ve had more than enough sleep. And…it was Payton who woke me. Sort of. He called to me in a dream, saying something about piranha teeth.” Twyla shook her head as if trying to clear a memo
ry.
“I do think Payton is the place to start. See what he will reveal about the demons,” David said.
Val agreed. “I was thinking the same thing. I’ll interview him tomorrow.”
“I’ll go with you,” Twyla said. She sidled up to him, turning her golden, beseeching eyes on him.
“No. Not until we have a better idea what is going on,” Val said.
“I can tell you that,” Twyla said. “They’re searching for a way to multiply.”
“You mean have babies?” Nate asked.
“What?” David gawked at Nora.
Twyla gazed at the angel. “That’s exactly what I mean. They weren’t too happy when I turned them down for a magical potion. Granted, it was hundreds of years ago.” Nora met everyone’s disbelief with indifferent determination. “Well, I told them no.”
“That’s absurd,” Val said. He was beginning to think Nora needed an intervention.
“Believe me. Or not. Suit yourself.”
“It still warrants investigation,” Val said. “I’ll make a note of it.”
“Are you claustrophobic?”
“No. I don’t think so,” Twyla told Val. Ten minutes later, she discovered, boy, had she been wrong. She followed Val through one twist after another cut in the rock passageway. Evidently, she wasn’t a fan of narrow, confined spaces. Who knew? Her heartbeat escalated, and she heard it pound in her ears. If she removed her shirt, she’d be able to wring out a gallon of sweat.
The jail that kept Payton Grey was deeper and further underground than she’d thought. “You need an elevator down to this place,” she said.
They had been in the sheriff’s office when she’d placed the marker on Payton, so she hadn’t been privy to his accommodations. At last, they entered a larger hall with a couple doors. Val unlocked one and ushered her inside a bigger vestibule.
Lights automatically came on. “Motion detectors?” she asked.
“Yes.”
He guided her to another locked door. “By a witch’s spells, you take security seriously,” she muttered.
“Paranormal creatures aren’t like humans. Some creatures can be extremely dangerous. It is our job to protect our citizens as best we can.”
He placed a finger on the lock mechanism to read, then it let him in. “Stay here,” he said over his shoulder. “Let me check first.” The door opened soundlessly. Val stepped inside.
Twyla was right on his heels. If there was something to see, she wanted to know.
“Do you ever do as you’re told?”
She didn’t answer but shot him a saucy smile.
On the other side of the door, the space altered into a living area, a great room comprised of a kitchen and living room with furniture and a wall-mount TV at one end along with a bookshelf lined with movies. Another opened door led to a bedroom. The place seemed to have all the comforts of home—more than Payton deserved. Speaking of…he lounged in a huge, black recliner. “Oh, look, Doris. Company,” he said with mock interest.
Doris, a large, steel gray cat, popped her head up. She arched her back and stared across the room at them with blue-green eyes. Val moved closer into the room. Doris hissed and sputtered, showing white, pointy teeth.
Classical music played in the background, which seemed an odd contradiction to the look of disgust on Payton’s face.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Payton asked. Catching sight of Twyla a step behind Val, Payton lowered the chair and sat straighter.
She hadn’t seen him since she’d placed the collar on him.
“You’re going to remove this hex and free me?” His voice sounded hopeful.
“No,” Val bit out. “But perhaps soon, if you cooperate.”
“He has to convince me, too,” Twyla said. “I’m holding the power here.”
Payton fell back into the chair with a sneer. “What is it you’re looking for?”
“There is someone else behind your cobine dealings. Who is it?” Val moved deeper into the room to stand in front of Payton. She tagged along with him.
Payton stroked the cat. “Go blow some smoke, dragon. There’s no one. And I wasn’t running cobine to begin with.”
“No. I think you were hoarding it,” Val claimed. “Stockpiling it in order to drive up the price.”
“Guess again,” Payton said.
Val and Nate had mentioned their theory to the council. The thing was…they hadn’t been able to find where he had stored the evidence. It was the reason they’d been ineffective in tracing where the cobine had gone. The shortage had a domino effect.
They hadn’t found any connections to pin on Payton other than what Connor Langley had originally reported.
Twyla glanced sideways at Val. “Wait, did you see that? He pet the cat with the first answer, but not the second.”
Val snickered. “So you really are working for demons.”
Payton buried his fingers in Doris’s fur. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure about that?” Val said, his jaw fixed.
Twyla stepped closer to Payton. “What demon are you dealing with? Abaddon, Behemoth, Mammon? You’re working with someone.”
As Payton clenched his hand around Doris’s neck, the cat shrieked and jumped free of his lap.
“I take that as a yes,” Val said dryly.
“No,” Payton contradicted. “She’s skittish. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh, it speaks volumes.”
“This is ridiculous. You’re just trying to mess with my head,” Payton said through his teeth. He slid to the edge of the chair. If he could flee, she thought he would.
“How are you communicating with Mammon? Mental telepathy, through the TV, summoning?” With the last, Val stood and lunged at Payton.
The sheriff darted backwards. “I think that’s it. You summoned him.”
Twyla glanced around the room. “He had to have created a portal.” She walked the outer areas of the room, examining the walls and floor.
“I’ve been down here as a prisoner. I have no connections,” Payton bit out.
She searched the kitchen and then turned to the bedroom. “What are you looking for?” Val asked.
“A pentagram. There must be one around here somewhere. It’s a necessary part of any demon-raising ceremony,” she said.
Val joined her search, peering behind pictures, moving furniture—all while keeping one eye on Payton.
“Isn’t it bad enough you have me locked up? Must you disturb my cell, too?”
Twyla allowed her senses to rule. She followed the hot, sickening vibrations coming to her. They led her to the bedside table. She moved it aside, the legs making a scraping sound. Seeing a rough-cut, five-pointed star etched into the floor, she said, “Found it.”
Val moved behind her and glanced over her shoulder. “What does that mean?”
She could smell his clean, smoky scent. It was nice. “It’s a portal to the demonic worlds. Mammon probably visited Payton through this.”
Val glared at Payton. “Looks like you’ll be getting new quarters.”
Payton kicked at the cat. She quickly dashed out of the way before his foot struck. “You’ll never find what you’re searching for.”
“We will. Eventually.” Val clasped Payton’s arm above the elbow and jerked him along, through the outer doorway and down the hallway to another metal door. This one had traditional, thick bars. He opened it and shoved the vampire inside. “No more cushy accommodations.”
Doris trailed behind them and sidled between the bars just as Val shut the door with a clink and a click.
As they moved away, Val’s arm brushed her shoulder. He slipped a hand around her waist, guiding her. She liked the comforting feel of his hand against her back. “What should we do about that pentagram? Is there a way to get rid of it?”
“I’m not sure we want to do that. It might be useful. I think we should leave it for now. Let me confer with Nora and Luna.” Her mother had far
more experience than she did, Twyla thought.
They headed through the tunnel back to his office. Inside, he paused, drawing Twyla into a hug. “You did a great job down there. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He brushed his lips over hers. “At least now we have more information to take to the council. And we know what is driving the discord among the veaklings. Mammon.” Val tugged her closer as the path narrowed.
On the drive home, Val phoned in a to-go order to Poltergeist Pizza. “Burger and mushrooms, okay?” He angled the cell phone to the side, asking her if she was good with those toppings.
“Sure.”
“Yes, good,” he said, then ended the call. He glanced sideways. “Fifteen minutes.”
It only took ten to get there. He parked and sat with the engine running. “Best pizza in town.”
She laughed. “Only pizza in town.”
“Don’t interrupt the anticipation of my taste buds.” He turned on the radio.
She reached over to the dash and flipped it off.
“Hey, that was my favorite song.”
“Since when? You hate country and western.” She sighed heavily. “Can we talk about it now?”
“What?”
“The missing demon.”
“Oh. I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice. Didn’t want to upset you.”
“The pentagram star was intact. So the demon most likely came through to do Payton’s bidding. Don’t you think?”
He checked the time on his phone. “Pizza is ready. I’ll be right back.” He slid from the car, went inside, and bought the pizza. Part of him wanted to discuss what they’d discovered in Payton’s cell. Twyla, her sorceress sisters, and mom were good sources to tap when it came to demons. But a greater part of him wanted to shut her out. Maybe even send her to her mom’s. Keeping her away from Mammom would mean she’d stay safe.
After he climbed in the Jeep, he handed her the square, red-and-white pizza box. “Careful. It’s hot,” he warned her. The smell of dough, sauce, and cooked burger filled the vehicle. His stomach did a flip-flop.
“So you think we have a demon on our hands, also. Mammon could be anywhere in Terror.” Twyla persisted, picking up the conversation.
Forever At Risk: Terror, MN Page 4