by Tina Folsom
“Exactly. The war isn’t over, so who knows what the greater good is? Who says the way of life the guardians are trying to protect is the right way? One species’ terrorist is another species’ freedom fighter. We’re the freedom fighters. We fight for the right of every human to choose their destiny, not be dictated by morals and conventions or told what is right and what is wrong.”
“That’s your opinion. You support death and destruction. You feed off fear and evil. And you want to make me believe that your way will give humans a true choice? I don’t have to be a psychic to know that you’re wrong. You instigate evil in the world.”
“And the guardians are choir boys?” he shot back.
Winter hesitated. She knew they weren’t. Logan had committed an evil act. Killed an innocent, her grandmother. And he’d lied about it. Had kept the truth from her.
“See,” Zoltan said, leaning in, his voice soothing again, “they’re not all good either. They act in their self-interest too. And they do hurt people. Everybody does. There’s nobody truly good in this world. Everybody has a dark side. And everybody tries to hide it. My subjects and I are different. We have evolved. We are free because we don’t suppress our dark side. We don’t lie about what we are. We just are. Everybody else is just lying to themselves.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t accept that. He was trying to manipulate her. She couldn’t allow it. She had to push back. “You have a very skewed view of the world and the humans who inhabit it. There is good in this world. I’ve seen good. And I’ve seen evil. And I know the difference.”
“Do you? You’re not the only one who thought so at first. But everybody changes their mind in the long run. Even those people you think are good through and through. All you need to do is give them a good reason to change their mind.” He put his napkin on the table. “Shall I tell you a story?”
Winter looked at him and knew that she wouldn’t like whatever he was about to tell her.
32
Virginia had found a lost portal a little over one hour north of San Francisco that was remote enough that an explosion wouldn’t attract undue attention. Blowing up the portal located inside the BART station in the middle of the Mission district wasn’t an option. It would destroy the station and kill innocents. Logan understood and accepted that. It didn’t make the drive up north and his impatience any easier to bear.
He was in the car with Wesley driving, Virginia riding shotgun. A second car was following them: Quinn and Ryder, both well-versed in explosives, had packed the trunk of their car with everything they could possibly need to literally send Logan to hell.
Logan knew what he was doing was madness, but he couldn’t give up. He had to get to Winter. Whether that meant his certain death, he didn’t know nor care. He needed to see Winter. He couldn’t let her believe for one hour longer that he’d betrayed her. Her words still echoed in his mind.
I hate you.
They had sliced through his heart and shredded it. He couldn’t let her believe that he’d callously killed her grandmother. He needed to explain to her that he’d had no choice. But first and foremost, he had to snatch Winter from Zoltan’s claws, no matter the cost.
The portal was located in the woods of Sonoma. Wesley had used it once, and it was too far away from any homes or other structures for an explosion to be seen, though the sound would travel. But with some luck anybody who heard the explosion would attribute the sound to a supersonic plane passing or a car backfiring.
The hut in the middle of the woods was really a lean-to. There were only three wooden walls and a roof; the forth wall was a massive boulder into which a Stealth Guardian dagger was carved. This was the portal.
Quinn and Ryder unpacked the heavy bags they’d carried the two miles from where they’d parked the cars, and started setting up their equipment.
“Can I help with anything?” Logan asked, hoping to speed up the process.
Quinn looked up. “I know you’re impatient. I get it. But working with explosives is an art. It’ll take the time it takes.”
“Don’t worry, we’re good,” Ryder assured him. “We’ll make sure this explosion releases the energy you need. The rest is up to you.”
Logan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate all you’re doing.”
“Hey, Logan,” Wes called out to him.
Logan pivoted and walked to where he and Virginia were standing, a safe distance away from the explosives.
“So, this is it,” Wes said.
“You sure about this?” Virginia asked. “You can still change your mind.”
He gave her a regretful smile. “There’s no going back. I have to go get her. It’s my mess. I have to clean it up.” But it was more than that. He loved Winter, and he’d rather die saving her life than not try at all.
“Okay, then.” Wes dug into his backpack and pulled a rectangular item from it that was no larger than his palm. “Thomas gave me this from our vault at Scanguards. It’s the strongest GPS transmitter on the market. We figured if you actually do manage to land in the Underworld, we might as well test this thing and see if we can track you. Might give us an indication as to where Zoltan’s lair is located.”
Logan reached for it. “Okay. Though I doubt that it’ll work down there.”
“So do I,” Virginia admitted, “but we might as well try. Got nothing to lose, right?”
“Right.”
“In any case,” Wes added, “If and when you make it back, it’ll help us find you and pick you up wherever you land.”
“Sounds good.”
“Best put it in your boot, in case you get captured and they search you,” Wesley suggested.
Logan crouched down and stashed the slim device in his boot, then rose.
“How many weapons do you have?” Virginia asked, looking concerned.
Logan opened his jacket. His inside pockets were loaded with daggers, two on each side. “One strapped to each ankle, one on my hip. I think I’m good.”
Virginia nodded, satisfied. “And the map?”
He patted his pocket. “Right here.” He’d had the foresight to bring the tunnel map Winter had drawn from the compound. He didn’t know how accurate or how useful it would be, but maybe it would help.
Wes and Virginia exchanged a look. Then Wes shrugged. “It’s more than what you and I had when we were down there. And we got out.”
“Pure luck,” Virginia claimed.
“Maybe I’ll be lucky too,” Logan said.
Wes reached into his other pocket and pulled out a vial. “Here’s some luck in a bottle. You know what to do with it?”
Logan took it and stashed it in a padded inside pocket of his jacket. “If it survives the trip. You sure it works?”
Wes shrugged. “Didn’t exactly have time to test it.”
“Hope the potion won’t kill me,” Logan said.
Wes grimaced. “Doubt it.”
Logan looked over his shoulder, where Quinn and Ryder were still busy setting up the explosive charges. For a few minutes, he fell silent. This was either the most brilliant or the most stupid idea he’d ever had. He hoped the former was the case.
“Almost ready,” Quinn called out. “We’re just setting up the detonator.”
A few minutes later, they were ready.
“What do you want me to tell your parents?” Virginia asked.
Logan took a deep breath. “My parents know that being a warrior comes with risks. They’ll understand.”
“I wish you luck,” Virginia said.
Wes slapped him on the shoulder. “Kick their asses for me, will you?”
If Winter’s vision was accurate then he would do more than just that. He’d behead the fuckers.
Without another word, he walked to the hut, where Quinn and Ryder were waiting for him.
Quinn nodded at him. “I’ve set it up so the countdown is loud enough for you to hear inside the portal. I’m giving you ten seconds. Enough time for us
to get far enough away, and for you to do whatever you need to do.”
“Got it.”
“One other thing: once I start the countdown, I can’t abort. This is a simple one-way setup. We didn’t have time to—”
Logan lifted his hand to stop him. “It’s good. Let’s do this.” He looked at Ryder, then back at Quinn. “Thank you both.”
He walked inside the hut and laid his palm over the dagger that was engraved in the rock. Warmth built beneath it and within a second or two the portal was open. He stepped inside and pivoted, looking out at his friends. With a last nod, he willed the portal to close.
It took a few seconds, before he heard the countdown start. Concentrating on his mission, he focused on his hate for the demons, and on his need to save Winter.
Three.
On his love for her and the knowledge that he couldn’t live without her.
Two.
On the promise he’d made to her. You’re safe with me. I’ll protect you. Always.
One.
And on his anger toward himself for having failed her. I’m going to make it right. I’m coming for you, Winter. I’m coming to rescue you. And I’m going to slay the demons for you.
The explosion rocked the portal, flinging him in the air, slamming him against the rock. He tumbled in weightlessness, losing his sense of up and down.
Fucking demons!
Again he smashed against the rock. This time head first.
Then nothing. Only darkness as his body dropped limply.
33
Zoltan brought the glass to his lips and drank from his wine. Winter ignored hers. She didn’t want to drink, because she needed all her wits about her, couldn’t afford to get tipsy, let alone drunk. She knew that Zoltan noticed that she wasn’t drinking, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he cast her one of those superior looks that he was so good at. As if he knew something she didn’t. Or simply, because he knew he was stronger than her, and that she would ultimately lose whatever battle they were waging.
“Everybody has their breaking point,” Zoltan said. “In the end, everybody gives in.”
“Yeah, you said that before. Get to the point,” she said. Where she got the courage that allowed her to talk to him like that, she didn’t know. Maybe it was because she had nothing to lose, nothing but her dignity. Her life was already forfeit. She was living on borrowed time. They both knew it. Maybe that was the reason he didn’t lash out at her now, despite her disrespectful tone.
“Well, then let me get to the story.” He set down the glass and leaned back in his chair. “I wasn’t the Great One back then. I was just a grunt, just another demon eager to please his master. You see, I was more ambitious than my brethren, more eager to make it to the top. I took greater risks and reaped greater rewards.”
“Is this why you had me kidnapped? So you could boast to me about your successes?”
He tsked. “So impatient. I was like that once too. But I learned patience, just like you will. I learned to wait for the right time, the right opportunity. It paid off. I got wind of a psychic. I watched her. I found out everything there was to find out about her. You see, if you want to truly bring somebody onto your side, you have to know their pressure points.” He tipped his finger to his temple. “You have to know what makes them tick.” He chuckled. “With most people it’s money, power, or sex. But this woman, she was different. She wasn’t interested in money or power. And frankly, she was a little too old to care about sex.” He shrugged. “But you know what she cared about?”
He leaned forward, staring at her.
Winter held her breath. She already suspected who he was talking about. But she wasn’t going to give anything away, just in case she was wrong.
“You. She cared about you.”
Her grandmother. He was talking about her grandmother.
Zoltan smile was self-congratulatory. “Yes, she was an interesting woman, your grandmother. But she had a weakness. She loved you, and wanted to protect you at all costs. She fought against me for a long time. But in the end, she decided you were worth her sacrifice. We had a deal. I would leave you in peace to live your life as you chose, and she would come with me and serve me and my master.”
Winter shook her head. “No, never! My grandmother was good. She would never have worked for you! Never!”
Zoltan tilted his head to the side and studied her. “You’re cut from the same cloth as she. We didn’t know at the time that you would inherit her gift. But that’s beside the point. The point is, she gave in because she knew it was best for everybody.” Suddenly his expression darkened and he slammed his fist on the table.
Winter shuddered at the sudden outburst.
“But those damn Stealth Guardians! They had to interfere, didn’t they?”
She didn’t dare answer, not when Zoltan looked like he was ready to kill somebody.
“My apologies,” he pressed out through clenched teeth. “But what they did was unconscionable. They killed your grandmother. Killed her before I could get her to safety. They’re cold-blooded killers. A life means nothing to them. Your grandmother would have lived with us here, but the Stealth Guardians killed her. They took her from you. They don’t care about you. They never did. As soon as you become a liability, they’ll kill you. You’ll never be safe with them.”
Winter jumped up and kicked her chair back. “And I’ll be safe with you? How gullible do you think I am? You were able to manipulate my grandmother because she wanted to protect me. But you have nothing on me! I’ll never agree to work for you. I’d rather die!”
“How dramatic. I love a passionate woman. You know why you were safe all those years after your grandmother’s death? It wasn’t my doing. The Great One punished me for my failure in bringing him a psychic. For nearly ten years I rotted in a cell down here. Meanwhile none of his nitwit subjects kept track of you. They lost you. By the time I was free again, nobody could find you. Until last week.” He laughed triumphantly and rose. “Imagine how elated I was, when I realized you’d inherited your grandmother’s gift. Still, I was willing to go easy on you, despite what I had to endure because of you. I wanted to give you a choice and make you a partner in this.”
“Partner? To a demon? Never!” She glared at him defiantly.
He narrowed his eyes. “Very well. There are other ways to gain your compliance.”
Inside she shuddered at the thought of torture, but she lifted her chin nevertheless. “Go ahead, hurt me. But it won’t change anything. I’ll never give in. You don’t have a bargaining chip like you had with my grandmother.” And she didn’t blame her grandmother for giving in. She understood now. Just as she understood why Logan had to kill her grandmother. But it didn’t matter anymore, because she’d never have the opportunity to tell him that she was wrong.
Zoltan raised his hand and she flinched, expecting a blow. Instead, he stroked his hand over her cheek. Winter recoiled at the touch.
“I wouldn’t hurt a pretty face like yours.” He lifted his finger to her temple. “But I will get in here. And you will give in.”
“No!”
“Is that your final answer?”
She spat in his face.
He didn’t bother wiping the spit off his cheek. His demon-green eyes flashed, then locked with hers and she was unable to look away. At the same time, she felt a tightness in her chest and her heart began to pound furiously.
You are mine now. I’m your master.
She heard his words, but his lips didn’t move.
Surrender!
The demand was accompanied by a wave of pain washing over her head, penetrating her skull.
“Noooo!” she screamed.
She couldn’t allow him in, couldn’t give in. This invasion was different from the one she’d experienced with Gabriel, but her mind’s reaction was the same. She pushed against it, fought with every cell of her body against the foreign power wanting to invade her mind and focused only on one thing: survival. She felt electrici
ty spark around her, saw blue light appearing at the edge of her vision, sensed her hair standing up in all directions. At the same time, she felt a supernatural strength inside her, her psychic power defending itself.
She held on for dear life, fought against Zoltan’s invading thoughts, trying to get her to surrender to his power. But with every new command that he sent into her mind, her psychic power seemed to grow stronger.
Zoltan screamed and slammed his hands against his temples, stumbling backwards. Still, Winter continued to fight, continued to bombard him with her power.
Suddenly strong arms ripped her backwards and tackled her to the floor. She lost her concentration. Simultaneously, Zoltan’s invasion ceased. She struggled against the two demons who’d come to their master’s aid, but they were too strong. Her own power seemed to be zapped. She had nothing left.
She heard Zoltan’s angry growls before he entered her field of vision. He glared down at her.
“Get her up,” he ordered his two subjects.
They followed his command and jerked her to her feet.
“I’ll teach you to defy me, you bitch!” he yelled.
She only saw his fist when it was already too late. Even if she’d seen it earlier, she wouldn’t have had any defense against it. It hit the side of her head, snapping it in the opposite direction. The force of the blow was so violent that it flung her against the nearest wall. Pain seared through her entire body. She tried to hold on to her consciousness, tried to grasp at something, clawing at the wall behind her, but it was no use.
She opened her eyes, trying to focus, but everything around her was gone. The demons, Zoltan, the dining room. Gone. In its stead was a pleasant room with a large window, a soft rug beneath her feet. The furniture was old fashioned, antique even. Outside it was dark.
The crying of a baby made her spin around. It came from a wooden crib. It was just as old as the rest of the furniture in the room. It reminded her of the kind of furniture that belonged in a palace in the 1800s. Next to the crib, a single candle was lit.