Backing up, he dove to the bottom and kicked forward. The cool water cascaded over his flesh, tickling his bare chest and breathing vitality into his pores. The smooth liquid filtered through his skin, giving his body the oxygen it needed and sparking a chord of sweet harmony in his mind. This was where he felt most at home. In his element. The cool, fresh flow of water had always energized his body and cleared his mind.
This was also where he found it hardest to refrain from giving voice to the song that swirled through his brain. A full-blooded siren would find it impossible not to sing, and that beautiful, rich voice would carry through the waters for miles, luring in anyone who heard it with its beauty.
He often wondered if that was how his father had found his mother and captured her. If only he’d even known her name…
The water, which had grown deeper and cooler with every stroke, began to grow shallow again. He was getting closer.
After a few more minutes of sure, steady strokes, he broke through the surface, not less than a couple hundred feet from the castle. Good, the barrier was gone. Part of him had feared it would continue on right until the edge of the castle.
Swan diving back to the bottom, he rode the water in until the very last moment, just in case there were any enemy eyes out there. During their visual scan of the castle and surrounding grounds they hadn’t spotted a single spy anywhere, as if Belpheg was certain he wouldn’t be invaded. Truthfully, what they were attempting was probably crazy, given this fae’s level of power. But sometimes those who thought highly of themselves made foolish mistakes.
Another valuable Mammon lesson.
Once there was no longer enough water to keep him hidden, Dagan stood and made for land with sure, steady steps. Nothing. Not a soul to be seen.
“Maybe this will actually work,” he whispered to himself. That was, assuming he could somehow locate one little blond-haired angel in this massive, four-storied castle.
He lifted his gaze to the giant stone structure. As if the gods were smiling upon him, a hint of spun moonlight caught his eyes.
There. Right at the third story, two windows in.
The image was gone before he could fully set his sight on it, but he could have sworn that was a glimpse of Lina’s hair.
“Fuck,” he muttered. Every fiber of his being vibrated with an anxious buzz. This was insane.
“Shut up,” he whispered furiously, gripping his head and shaking hard until the frantic music buffeting his mind quieted down.
Crazy-ass stupid idea or not, he was going in there.
Dagan took a fortifying breath and started toward the stone steps that led up to a colossal set of double doors.
Chapter Sixteen
Kaleidoscopes of color danced in front of Lina’s eyes. She let the thick drapes covering the window slip through her fingers, allowing them to fall back into place. Only belatedly did she realize she had too many fingers. Eight instead of five.
Well, damn.
She held them up to her face, following the blurry trail as it shifted to the right. Maybe she’d had this many all along and hadn’t realized it. Or maybe her hands weren’t really there. It could all be some elaborate sort of illusion.
“What if I don’t exist at all?”
Her voice sounded thick to her own ears, as if a huge wad of cotton had been shoved into her mouth. Tasted that way, too.
When she lurched to the side, almost falling off the wide window bench she was perched on, she had enough presence of mind to allow her body to slump backward instead. Her head rested on the thick windowpane.
Hell, I’m tweaking. Hard core.
Hadn’t she quit using drugs? Right now that seemed like a distant memory. Or maybe just a dream. After all, how could someone like her be tough enough to quit? Once a score addict, always a score addict.
A stab of pain shot through her stomach, and she moaned, lifting all eight fingers to the spot. What had happened to her?
Ah well, not like she could ever remember anyway.
The scrape of something sounded to her right. Turning her head, she blinked until her sight refocused. A door had opened, and a gorgeous devil stood on the other side. Dark hair curled damply over his ears, and turquoise eyes gazed upon her. He wore nothing other than a pair of clinging boxer shorts, and the gorgeous honey-toned muscles in his chest and abs rippled and flexed under the dim lighting. His mouth moved, but she was too distracted by the downward curve of his full lips and the angle of his powerful, sexy jaw to understand what he said.
Wow…he can’t be real.
He didn’t look like a hallucination, though. Not only that, but he also looked familiar, as if she’d seen him before. Knew him.
A name curled on the tip of her tongue. Dag…
Oh hell, who was she kidding? She must be dreaming.
The effects of the drugs began to overtake her once more, making her vision swim and her ears buzz. Lina let out a hoarse chuckle and closed her eyes, resting her head back on the windowpane.
…
One thing Dagan had to say about castles: they were freaking confusing as hell. The double doors had led into a corridor that seemed to be right off the kitchen. Heart pummeling in his throat, he’d snuck by the open doors, catching a glimpse of a small army of people hurriedly preparing a meal. Guess they didn’t get to sleep much, considering it was probably past one in the morning, Romania-time.
Despite his fear that he’d be spotted, there didn’t seem to be anyone guarding the place. Apparently the big-ass impenetrable shield was enough to lull the castle’s occupants into a false sense of security.
After shooting up the nearest set of stairs, he’d wandered the mazelike corridor of the second floor before finding another stairwell leading up. Keeping track of his whereabouts within the castle had been tricky, but he thought he was still on the side where he’d seen the glimpse of flaxen hair. From there, he’d proceeded to open more than a handful of doors, peering into rooms that seemed empty, before coming upon one that was locked. Since that alone seemed unusual, he carefully grasped the knob and twisted until the lock collapsed under the force of his strength. What he saw when he opened the door, however, was wholly unexpected.
“Lina.”
Only she didn’t look anything like her normal self. She was semi-reclined on a window seat with her head resting on the windowpane and her legs haphazardly draped over the side. Her hair hung down in long, lifeless hanks. Her skin was flushed and blotchy, and what appeared to be a thin layer of sweat covered her shuddering body.
She turned to look at him when he spoke her name, but her eyes remained wide and unfocused, as if she didn’t really see him. When she let out a thick, almost unrecognizable laugh and closed her eyes again, he started toward her.
Something was clearly wrong, and he had a really bad feeling he knew what it was. Earlier Thorne had said she was sleeping off her high. What he’d failed to say, but which seemed painfully obvious now, was that she’d been drugged.
He saw the foul vomit stains on the thick Oriental rug covering portions of the room and paused. “Oh, shit.”
No way the Lina he knew would willingly do this to herself. She just wouldn’t.
“Lina, wake up,” he whispered, but before he could get close enough to touch her, he heard the soft click of a door closing behind him.
His throat clenching, he whirled around, but instead of the dark fae he’d expected to see, it was Lina’s ex Thorne.
“She’s pretty out of it,” Thorne commented. “I doubt she even knows you’re here.”
“You asshole.” Worry and rage coalesced into a thick, bitter knot in the pit of Dagan’s stomach. He focused all his anger at Thorne, starting toward him with a growl, but the hubrin demon pushed away from the door and stepped inside the room.
“How’d you get in here?” Thorne asked as he sidestepped Dagan, honest curiosity coloring his voice. “Should have been impossible without him knowing.”
Before Dagan could respond,
Thorne gave a nonchalant shrug. “Guess it doesn’t matter. Belpheg wants you alive, but I’ve decided I don’t like you, and I sure as hell don’t like the way you look at Lina. Now I have a reason to kill you.”
Without further warning, he lunged for Dagan, raising his right hand. It was only then that Dagan saw the syringe held tightly in his grip.
Shit. He could guess what was in that tube, and he wanted nothing to do with it. Twisting to the side, he barely managed to avoid the tip of the needle as Thorne shoved it toward his arm. He reached for Thorne with his right hand, catching hold of his neck. Using his hold for momentum, he slammed the demon to the floor.
Thorne went down, his arm buckling inward. The tip of the needle lodged in Thorne’s gut. Thorne looked down, blinking in surprise.
Wasting no further time, Dagan leaped on Thorne, straddling his thighs and depressing the contents of the syringe into Thorne’s stomach. Thorne grunted, and a shudder went through his body. From what Dagan had seen of past score users, he expected the hubrin demon to be racked with debilitating convulsions, but he’d failed to account for one key factor…
Apparently Thorne was or had at one point been a hard-core user.
The hubrin demon’s eyes rolled into the back of his head for no more than a fraction of a second before refocusing on him and filling with an unholy light. “Woo-hoo!” He gave Dagan a wide grin. “Feels so good. Almost forgot how fucking fan-tastic it is!”
When the veins in Thorne’s neck popped out and the demon shoved his palms into Dagan’s chest, effortlessly throwing him off, Dagan had just one thought.
Oh, shit.
He’d just inadvertently given the dick more fuel for their battle.
“I see you’re no stranger to score,” Dagan said conversationally as he pushed to his feet. Maybe he could use talk to distract him. Score users weren’t known for their laser-beam focus.
Thorne chuckled and leaped up, carelessly tugging the syringe from his flesh and tossing it to the side. “Nope. Lina and I could shoot it up with the best of ’em, back in the day. Bet she failed to mention that when you two were fucking.”
He didn’t rise to the bait, but instead angled to the side, mentally assessing the hubrin demon. He was taller and a bit wider, but Dagan had discounted that before because the demon didn’t seem to have any real fighting ability. However, that meant next to nothing when drugs were involved. He’d seen motivated score users do some pretty impossible shit.
As if proving his point, Thorne launched himself across the room, landing on Dagan like a spider. He went down like a bag of bricks, and the demon wasted no time in pummeling his face with his meaty fists, the drugs lending him strength and incredible speed. One particular blow caught Dagan square in the jaw, jerking his face to the side. He spit blood onto the Oriental rug. The dark fae’s household staff would have a hell of a time cleaning that up.
“You’re nothing.” Thorne let out a crazed laugh, his eyes glazing over. “Fucking worthless.”
The hubrin demon’s words caused an unexpected spark of memory to flare in Dagan’s brain.
Mammon’s fist caught him unexpectedly, knocking him to the ground. “You are nothing but a worthless brat. I don’t know why I even bothered to collect you.”
Another wicked punch to his jaw knocked Dagan back to the present.
“Like I said,” Thorne smirked. “Worthless.”
The hubrin demon’s words lit a fire in Dagan’s gut. The worst part about growing up with an evil, abusive demon for a father wasn’t the beatings he’d had to contend with, but the fact that he’d allowed Mammon’s viewpoint to color his own thinking about himself. He’d allowed himself to believe Mammon’s words, when the asshole had been full of shit all along.
No more. He wasn’t worthless, not by a long shot.
He caught Thorne’s next punch, squeezing the demon’s fist in his own. “Dude,” he drawled. “You punch like a freaking girl.”
When Thorne’s eyes went wide with surprise, Dagan jerked his arm to the side, throwing Thorne off balance just enough that he was able to knock him off his chest. They rolled around the floor, each struggling for dominance, until Dagan wrapped his hands around Thorne’s neck. The hubrin demon rolled onto him, and something cold and hard stabbed Dagan’s side. Sucking in his breath, he glanced down to see a sharp dagger rammed into his flesh.
“Motherfucker,” he howled.
When Thorne let out an amused chuckle, Dagan reached one hand down to jerk the dagger out of his side. He grunted at the white-hot pain that sliced through his bloodstream and he rolled Thorne over. In one smooth, fluid motion, he slid the dagger through Thorne’s neck, the movement more instinctive than planned.
The hubrin demon shuddered, gargling for breath, but his arms remained locked on Dagan’s neck.
Dagan pressed harder, slicing the knife all the way through the flesh.
Finally, Thorne’s hands dropped limply to the ground.
“Damn.” Dagan rose to his feet and backed away with a frown. He’d wanted to question Thorne about his involvement with the dark fae, to see if he could determine exactly what Belpheg was up to. Looked like that wouldn’t be a possibility now.
On the upside, Thorne’s words indicated he’d been able to sneak inside undetected. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get Lina and be gone before anything happened.
He’d taken no more than three steps toward Lina, who remained unconscious on the window seat, when a shrill alarm sounded.
Damn. Guess that shot his hopes all to hell.
He froze in place for a moment before having the presence of mind to slip to the still-open door. Just as he started to close it, a familiar voice sounded out from down the hall.
“What’s going on?”
Mammon.
His whole body tensed. The fight-or-flight response instinctively activated within him at the sound of the man who’d tormented him throughout his entire childhood. A growl rose in his throat, but he held it back. Much as he might long to kill the bastard, that wasn’t his mission. Not tonight. He needed to get Lina out of here.
He slid the door all but a fraction closed, but that was enough for him to make out the familiar figure of his father as he stalked past Lina’s room.
“What’s going on?” he repeated, speaking to someone out of Dagan’s line of sight.
“The barrier has been breached on the northern part of the property,” a soft, unfamiliar voice replied. “Belpheg is sending out some guards now to retrieve the intruders.”
Mammon let out a dry chuckle. “So predictable they are. That may be their biggest flaw.”
The voices receded as the men continued down the hall.
Dagan took a deep breath, forcing his pulse to resume a near-normal level before he turned and strode toward Lina. When he bent to scoop her into his arms, she let out a moan, and her head nestled into his chest. Sweat coated his body where her flesh met his.
Lina.
His heart broke to see her like this. Unconscious. Totally helpless. Out of control.
“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he murmured.
When she didn’t even twitch a muscle in response, he turned with a heavy heart, nudging both their bodies out the door before closing it shut. With any luck, it would be at least a few minutes before anyone thought to come look for her or Thorne.
The trip back downstairs was harrowing, to say the least. Belpheg had a number of servants, and they all rushed here and there as if the castle was under attack. Which he supposed it was, as far as they were concerned. Thankfully, the massive interior didn’t lack for twisty corridors or dark hallways. Still, it was with some level of surprise that he made it to the doors he’d come in through without being spotted.
His luck didn’t hold.
About halfway down the stairs, a heavily accented voice to his right yelled, “Hey, you. Stop!”
Shit.
He paused only long enough to confirm that it was one of Belpheg’s guards who ru
shed for him. Taking the rest of the stairs at double speed, he landed on the ground with Lina safely bundled in his arms, and raced toward the lake. But there was no one there to greet him.
“Damn it, Ronin. Where are you?”
The guard who’d spotted him rushed toward them, which meant he’d have to plunk Lina down somewhere in order to fight him off, and no doubt he’d alerted other guards, too. Add that together, and it amounted to a whole shit-load of stuff they didn’t have time to deal with.
His heart racing with fear for the woman in his arms, he circled around, setting his sights toward the sky. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the flapping of wings off in the distance to the right of the advancing guard, but then he caught his first good sight of the wings. Yellow and scaly instead of white and downy.
“Fuck!” It was an ishtari demon. One of Belpheg’s guards set to stop him. Which meant he was up shit creek without a paddle.
Dagan tensed, preparing to set Lina down so he could fight off the two guards that were almost upon him, when something swooped down from behind and lifted him up into the air. He yelped and almost dropped Lina, but readjusted his grip at the last moment.
“You okay?” Ronin’s voice sounded out from right behind him.
“Shit, bro!” Willing his heart to slow its fierce, staccato pounding, he glanced back to see the outline of his brother’s face in the night sky. “You scared the ever-living piss outta me!”
“Sorry,” Ronin said. “Got caught in the fray when the ishtari started fighting the mercenaries we hired.”
Dagan glanced behind them. Though the ishtari followed, Ronin’s speed was much faster.
“He’s a fair distance away now,” Dagan said.
“Good.” Ronin’s gaze went momentarily to Lina, and his mouth tightened. “She okay?”
Dagan couldn’t blame him for asking. Even though the three of them soared through the sky, she hadn’t regained a bit of conscious. With her head and hands hanging limply, she could very well be dead.
“Drugged,” he said simply.
When they’d traveled more than halfway across the lake, Dagan tensed. “What about the shield?”
Call of the Siren (Demons of the Infernum) (Entangled Edge) Page 16