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Snake Eyes: A novel of the Demon Accords

Page 17

by John Conroe


  Stacia had been wearing her combat form and chasing or fighting Dragan the entire time the babies were being born. She was wounded and out of resources. But what was Declan running on? And Dragan was beat to hell as well. Between the two of them, they had put a serious beat down on the Beast of the Pit and on top of that, he’d been shot as well.

  The decision came quickly. I had to check on my people before pursuing the demon further.

  I found Declan holding Stacia across his lap, having wrapped her in a space blanket, his sweatshirt pressed against her shoulder. She was watching him closely even as he handed her pemmican bars and Gatorade from his never-ending kit bag. A crowd was standing a ways back, wisely keeping their distance.

  “You okay?” I asked, addressing him as much as her.

  “No… we’re not!” she said, looking at him pointedly. “Someone is chock full of death magic and needs to get rid of it.”

  “I had to take it to protect us. Now I’m just using it to fight that monster,” he said.

  “It’s TOXIC,” she said, voice rising to almost a yell. “GET. RID. OF. IT. NOW!”

  He looked at her, torn with indecision. I was tempted to say something, but instinct told me to stay quiet.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him. “Get rid of it or get rid of me,” she said, face rigid with anger. I didn’t believe her. Oh, she was convincing, but Nika had told me her wolf had basically called it for the skinny kid, and werewolves were mostly monogamous, mate-for-life types.

  Apparently he did believe her because he finally took a piece of chalk from his bag, drew a circle with some runes around it, put his right palm flat on the ground inside it, and closed his eyes. A second later, the ground shook—hard. Minor earthquake hard.

  “There, all gone,” he said, slumping down. The witch’s energy had been powering him this whole time. I’m not an expert, but even to me, that seemed like a really, really bad idea.

  A howl snapped our heads up and around. High above, Dragan clung to the miniature Chrysler building and howled at us. Suddenly there was a rumbling, a hard shaking that we could feel through the ground, then a stream of yellow cars came swarming around the red piping of the New York-New York roller coaster, each shaped like a taxi car. It boggles my mind that the ride attendants somehow missed the fact that a freak fight was front and center on their resort and it was okay to release the ride. Nonetheless, the four-car coaster came flashing around the loops of the track, high above the ground. Dragan jumped to the nearest section of track and roared at us. He reached down and gripped one of the side rails that the attraction’s car rolled on and, with a monumental effort, tore it free. Then he leapt away.

  The screaming passengers upped their vocalizations to truly inspired levels when they saw the torn piece of track in front of them. The speeding string of cars hit the broken space with a screech of torn metal and a ground-shaking impact that left the first car dangling in space, only its connection to the other three holding it from falling. The four people in the dangling car were yelling and screaming like their very lives were at stake.

  The link between the cars was visibly bending to my eyes and I moved, running up the building and jumping to the track. I Posted my body to the heavy frame and grabbed the side of the dangling car, heaving on it. It swung but I couldn’t get the leverage I needed to pull it back up. Suddenly, it got lighter, a whole lot lighter, like someone else was lifting it. I pulled it back to the main part of the track, the whole thing moving like it only weighed four hundred pounds instead of fifteen hundred. Once on the main frame, I bent a piece of twisted steel to stabilize it and was able to turn and look down below. Declan was on his feet, swaying but lowering his hand. I started to rip open the safety bars.

  “Oh my god,” the lady in the very front said, her younger friend too scared to speak as I tore the restraints from her lap. She stood up and then screamed as her body suddenly just floated up over the side of the car. I leaned over and saw that Declan was pointing his finger at her as she floated down to the ground below. Stacia caught her when she fell the last few feet, and Declan turned to the next one. Moving people with telekinesis without hurting them is considered high master level craft. Our tired, worn-out witch was doing it flawlessly while barely able to stand.

  One by one, I freed the six people on the ride and one by one, he TKed them to the ground. The fact that he pointed at each and every one worried me, as he only resorts to such deliberate gestures when he’s really tired.

  Finished, I jumped to the ground below, where a crowd was gathering.

  “Oops. There was a little bit left,” Declan said, wobbling before he collapsed to the ground. Stacia caught him in a blur of motion and lowered him to a sitting position.

  Still eyeing the Chrysler Building replica, I remembered something from earlier. I sat cross-legged next to him, all three of us ignoring the crowds, the rescued riders and the resort staff now helping them.

  “What was up with the double circles and the stripper sacrifice?” I asked.

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure—we didn’t exactly stop for any CSI work—but my best guess was Skype,” Declan said, looking completely wiped out.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Like witchy FaceTime or Skype. That wasn’t the full elemental in the circle, just its summoned image. She couldn’t force it to appear because the stone name thingy wasn’t complete, so she gave it a call and opened negotiations,” he said.

  “So it wasn’t really even here, the furnace heat not withstanding?” I asked.

  “No, that was just its attention turned in this direction. It’s full-on presence would have slagged half of Vegas, I would think. Unless it can somehow dial back its power,” he said.

  “What was the naked girl for?” Stacia asked.

  “Either an offering to the elemental… think virgin in a volcano, or possibly for Louanna to take a quick hit off of,” he said with a shrug.

  “So not to change subjects, but was that Tanya going into labor?” Stacia asked, turning my way.

  “Yes. Beowulf and Corella were born shortly after you two chased Dragan away,” I said, unable to stop smiling.

  “Beowulf? Corella?” Stacia asked.

  “Corella was Galina’s birth mother’s name. Her human mother. Tanya’s real blood grandmother,” I said.

  “And Beowulf?” Declan asked.

  “Old English for bee wolf or bear. I always liked the name, plus there’s the whole poem with Beowulf fighting the monster Grendel thing,” I said, still grinning like an idiot.

  “So no pressure or anything. Just grow up to be the ultimate warrior,” Declan said, smiling.

  “He’ll probably be a concert pianist and pacifist,” Stacia said with a snort.

  “Hah. Wait till you meet him… and her. Pacifists my ass,” I said. “Now, I’ve got some work to do. You two stay here. It’s my turn,” I said. They both nodded as I stood up and looked around for my prey. A scream further up the Strip told me all I needed. Then I let Grim out of his cage.

  Chapter 26

  The creature that wanted to destroy my country and most of the world along with my newborn children and wife had been sorely wounded. It also stunk of sulfurous brimstone. Based on the blood trail I found, the two youngest members of our team must have put a serious beat down on his demonic ass.

  Unfortunately, the two dead bodies I found, partially consumed and crammed into the bathroom of a New York-New York suite in the Chrysler Tower, meant he was well on his way to recovery. Two males, both missing hearts, livers, brains, and big pieces of their large muscle groups, must have been in the hotel room when he smashed in the thirty-fourth-floor window. Blood spatters told me that at least one had run for the door but hadn’t made it. The bloody shower and tossed luggage seemed a pretty good sign that Dragan had killed, eaten, Changed back to man shape, showered, and now wore clothes.

  Hadn’t changed his scent, though. Stinky-ass Hell-bitch. I followed his trai
l to the elevators and took it to the ground floor.

  He’d wasted no time getting out of the building, heading up the Strip. North.

  “Omega, is the heat reading in Yellowstone still moving?” I asked.

  “The heat signature has continued to head southwest. The signal has become somewhat cooler in the last two hours,” Omega said.

  “Why would it get cooler?” I asked.

  “Moving deeper into the earth would potentially shorten the trip,” he said.

  Great. Louanna had succeeded in getting the elemental’s attention before she’d died.

  “On a side note, your quarry is approximately one hundred and sixty-four meters north of you and currently paused on the elevated walkway over the Las Vegas Boulevard, between the New York-New York complex and the MGM casino.”

  I looked with thermal vision and found a brighter head standing in the crowd. He was crossing a pedestrian bridge, headed toward the MGM hotel-casino.

  “How are you tracking him? Drones?”

  “His hearing is too sensitive for drone surveillance. I am currently using a Chinese military satellite with a particularly good thermal camera. There is a Russian Kobalt-M satellite nearby. I am moving it overhead within the next six minutes. It has reasonably good optical resolution,” Omega said.

  “What do the Chinese and the Russians think of this?” I asked.

  “Their respective leaderships are concerned with their inability to control their own technology. Oddly, both space agencies are avidly watching the feeds. They have identified you and realize you are stalking another supernatural,” he said. “I believe they are rooting for you.”

  Awesome. Global audiences watching from space. This had to officially be the weirdest demon hunt I’d ever been on. Talking to Omega was surreal. Another thought occurred to me.

  “How are Tanya and the twins?” I asked.

  “Arkady has moved them to the Demidova jet. Dr. Singh is in attendance. Lydia and Nika are arguing over who will be the favored aunt. My father’s wards continue to protect the aircraft.”

  “Speaking of your dad, how and what are he and Stacia doing?” I asked.

  “They have taken up a table on the other side of the Boulevard at an outdoor grill. Declan is ordering food, mostly for Stacia, who appears visibly thinner. The manager initially didn’t want to seat them, as Stacia is barefoot. Based upon multiple camera angles, I surmise from his expression that my father got very angry. One of the restaurant staff happened to mention to the manager who they were and why he might want to waive the no shoes-no service rule. They are currently eating dinner rolls. They have drawn a sizable crowd. A local news team is approaching their location.”

  Food. That sounded good. I glanced around me and saw lots of places that served all manner of food. But I didn’t want to lose Dragan.

  “Twenty-three meters ahead on your left is a sandwich shop going by the corporate name of Subway. I have placed an internet order of a large Italian sandwich with extra cheese. It is all paid for and will come out of the melting oven in forty-one seconds,” Omega said.

  I instantly swerved into the Subway just as the warming unit dinged. “That’s for me,” I said. “Don’t wrap it.”

  The young girl behind the counter froze with the sub in her hands, still on its paper mat. I think she recognized me. “Thanks. Gotta run.”

  I was back on the street and eating the sub in twenty-two seconds. It took a moment to reaquire my prey, but Omega’s eye in the sky had never lost him. So I was freaking eating a loaded Italian sub while hunting a demon, ordered for me by a super supercomputer. Unbelievable. Actually, maybe a little scary.

  “Subject Dragan is displaying signs that he is aware of pursuit. He has just accelerated and begun a looping maneuver around a small elevator structure at the top of the walkway on the MGM side. I believe he is circling back to ambush you.” Omega said.

  Shit. I wasn’t done with my sub yet.

  “You got any drones around?” I asked, talking with my mouth full.

  “I have all the drones,” Omega said. Nope, not scary a bit.

  I paused, holding the sub in one hand while hopping on one foot to yank off my shoe and then my sock. Stuffing my foot back into the shoe while stuffing the last of the sub into my mouth, I got the sock wadded up into a nice ball.

  A black drone with television station call letters came zooming down out of the night sky and took up station in front of me. I fastened the sock to the drone, sorta stuffing the ball into one of the drone’s landing feet.

  I swallowed the lump of meat and bread as quickly as I could. Ten feet away, a family of three watched me with matching incredulous expressions. More and more people were recognizing me.

  “We’ll get this up ahead of him. Wind is coming from, what? Northwest? Get the drone upwind of Dragan,” I said.

  “He will scent you in his kill zone but you won’t be there,” Omega said.

  “Yeah, at least in theory. Maybe I can catch him off-guard. What’s he doing now?” I asked.

  “He has taken a sitting position out of the main flow of traffic near a group of panhandlers. I believe he waits for you to cross the walkway and when you start down the south-facing stairs, he will ambush you,” Omega said.

  I didn’t need the Uber computer to tell me the Strip was busy tonight and the loud and noisy pursuit of Dragan through the city had probably only worked to increase the number of curious tourists out and about. Half a hundred people had to be crossing on that very same elevated bridge. Have you been to the Strip? It’s criss-crossed with these people bridges that safely carry tourists over the crazy fast traffic of the Las Vegas Boulevard. The Strip itself runs north-south, so he was now following a straight path north toward the fast-approaching elemental.

  “Change of plans. Let me pull up a good map of the Strip,” I said. My phone turned itself on and a really detailed map came up. “Ah, perfect. Thanks,” I said. Scrolling through the map, I looked at the heavily commercialized path ahead. Then I spotted it. The perfect spot for a confrontation.

  “Okay, here’s what we need to do. First, we’re going to send the happy couple back to the jet to free up Arkady from guard duty. Declan can make the jet into a friggin fortress and I have need of Arkady’s skills. Can you coordinate that?” I ask.

  “Of course. And I think your choice of venues is probably the best we can get,” the AI said.

  “So here’s my plan,” and I laid it out.

  Five minutes later, we kicked it into gear. Omega’s purloined drone shot out and crossed the street, moving slowly down to man height. Dragan was essentially tucked below the waist-high concrete safety walls of the pedestrian bridge, mixed in with a group of Vegas’s ever-present panhandlers. I started forward, under the bridge.

  The wind had slowed but was still coming from the northwest. I was counting on Dragan’s senses being hyper acute.

  Crawling along, Clinging to the underside of the bridge, I moved almost to the south side stairs. A ten-year-old boy holding an empty three-foot plastic drink cup for his tipsy father spotted me and froze, mouth open. I held a finger over my lips and motioned him away from the stairs.

  A handful of slow seconds ticked with the kid staring at me and me staring back. Suddenly, the phone in my pocket buzzed and I raced lizard-like up the concrete, popping up almost directly behind a young couple getting their picture taken against the bridge’s concrete sidewall with the lights of Vegas behind them.. That was gonna be one hell of a photobomb.

  Fifteen feet away and facing the sock-wielding drone, Dragan stood confused. His sense of smell told him I was there, next to the elevator, not already on the stairs behind him. He didn’t sense me until I was almost on him. His body started to whip around, but I was already there, slamming the hardest punch I could throw into the center of the small of his back. On a human, a kidney shot would bring crippling pain. On a were demon, I had to try and damage his spine because they really didn’t feel pain or had a pain thresho
ld that was off the scale. The blow threw him through the concrete railing, off the bridge, into the traffic below.

  I heard a screech and a thud, then I went over the railing and Clung to the side of the bridge. Below, a taxi was twisted sideways in the right lane of the northbound boulevard. The hood and windshield of the car were smashed, the driver looking dazed and confused. But no Dragan. Grim suddenly pulled me back just as the monster came roaring out from under the bridge. All nine feet, six hundred pounds of him. His leap missed me and carried him twenty feet down the road. He stood, stretching to his full height, pulling his arms back like he was Tarzan or something.

 

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