“So what’s changed now?”
She let go of her hair. “I want them to suffer and burn.” Her voice about cracked, like it was an admission of weakness. And, really, it was: for someone who had lived by their own unspoken code—shoot first and kill others out of necessity—this symbolized a quantum shift.
Killing someone because you wanted to was a different animal. Which led to soul searching. A little voice wondering if, just maybe, she didn’t enjoying killing all those other people too.
“You can change.”
“You know what Galleron told me, Kalos?” She turned to look at me, her eyes tinged a kaleidoscopic array of colors. “You’re a hunter, Rebecca Callaway.”
“That’s not so bad.”
She cleared her throat. “A killer.”
“There’s always a choice,” I said.
After a long time, Ruby replied, voice a fierce whisper.
“That’s what scares me most of all.”
60
The Dark Horse Casino lit up the entire horizon, looking like an entire city all by itself. Vegas would’ve been jealous of all the neon this place had used. A gleaming, all-glass, ten-story hotel stood perched atop the casino, like a giant had precariously balanced it there. Anyone within twenty miles had no choice but to pause and take notice.
“I guess they’re not trying to hide.”
Ruby didn’t reply as the car rolled to stop. The clock read 11:56. Right on time. Hope and fear battled for supremacy within my chest. If Delphine could trigger the interrupt spell on short notice as Blaise lay dying, that boded well for our chances.
Of course, this go-round was on a much grander scale. And it all hinged on the one thing Ruby was trying desperately to tamp down: vengeance.
I was hoping that the mind-controlled minions within the casino’s walls would be more than a little pissed off about their leader enslaving them.
Maybe numbers could overwhelm a god.
We’d find out.
I checked the .45’s clip, feeling the gun’s familiar weight in my hands. Even though it smelled of gun oil and fresh rubber, it still felt like an old friend. I tucked it into my jeans, my ratty, slashed-up t-shirt billowing in the wind.
If this gambit worked out, maybe I’d even get to take another damn shower. Provided the NSA didn’t swoop down and send me to a black site.
Things to look forward to.
The Dark Horse’s massive awning was made of burnished gold, hundreds of lights studding the shiny finish. We crossed the empty valet pickup zone and walked into the casino. The automatic doors offered no resistance, simply gliding open in welcome.
Slot machines not ten feet from the door beckoned, reaching into our pocketbooks. But I was here for a different kind of gamble. Putting everything on one hand and letting it ride.
Before we got three steps in the door, the casino’s televisions flashed over from sports to some sort of live feed. Isabella stood in front of a black background, looking much heartier than when I’d seen her in the Sol Council’s smoldering bunker.
I could see the glint of Remkah Talisman in her cheek, its emerald pendant gleaming. The Carmine Chain’s ruby amulet was fused against her sternum, right above the plunging neckline of the cocktail dress. A generous slit in the fabric displayed the Sabre of Immolation, glowing quietly as if her own skin was its scabbard.
Flanking her on one side was the King’s Statue, energy emanating from the lion’s flowing mane. And, to my immense dismay, the ancient vase from the sinkhole sat on the opposite side, although it currently appeared inert.
“You have seen my toys, Kalos?” Her sultry voice taunted me from her ivory tower.
“Don’t answer the bitch,” Ruby said, cutting past row upon row of blackjack tables. We made our way from the $5 tables all the way to the $25 buy-ins before a massive light display advertising the casino’s in-house club winked off.
Isabella’s face replaced the fifteen-foot ad, her eyes glowing with irritation. She smacked her cherry red lips, the way someone might reprimand a child.
“You do not wish to test me, Kalos.”
A stack of chips rustled on a nearby table and then vaulted into the air, caught in a sudden tempest. The swirling maelstrom gusted past us, blowing my hair askew, before flinging the chips all over the carpet.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, biting my lip at the display. There were no fucking clocks in casinos. Much as I appreciated their drive to make sacks of money, it was making the timeline hard to gauge.
All I knew was that we were close.
“Did you get my messages, Kalos? I put so very much effort into them.” She batted her eyelashes. Even through the low-resolution display, I could feel the allure. I had to shake out my head, like someone trying to ward off sleep’s hold.
I brought the gun up and fired at the display. The advertising tower sparked and sputtered, going black.
Ears ringing, I took lead. Any screen we walked past—whether it was video poker or for ordering drinks—contained her face. Finally, growing angry at our continued lack of engagement, the lights went off, plunging the casino into absolute darkness.
It felt very odd, like the end of the world had just happened right before my eyes. A casino never slept, never closed, never powered down to take a breather. And yet, here I was, standing near the craps tables without being able to see two inches in front of my face.
A low, guttural growl came from the darkness. I swiveled toward it, completely blind.
“Wolf,” Ruby said.
“Wolves,” I replied, as a chorus of howls greeted the pack leader’s call. I dug into my pocket for my phone. Werewolves had night vision so adept that they could see in the dark. A fight in the pitch black did not favor us.
A ghostly beam cut through about five feet ahead, leaving us unable to see much further. I pulled on Ruby’s arm and nodded toward our left. I’d seen a night club in that direction before the lights had gone out.
She followed silently behind me as I swung the beam back and forth, scanning the area for threats. A number of times I thought I saw the flash of eyes, but it was merely the light catching off the reflective, dead slot machines.
I stumbled against a raised step and flashed the light forward. The glittery silver letters of the casino’s house club glinted back at me.
“And here I thought tonight was a work function,” Ruby said.
“Don’t get excited just yet.” I held my breath, waiting for Delphine’s spell. It had to be midnight by now, a few minutes past at least. What was the fucking hold-up? I pushed the thought down and headed inside, holding the door open for Ruby.
We entered a small, narrow hallway next to a bulletproof ticket window. Ruby knelt down by the entrance to the dance floor and kept the shotgun raised.
“Kill zone,” she said simply, like someone who had used this tactic before.
One point of entry, straight ahead. I listened outside, at the main casino floor. The club’s doors were soundproofed, so it was impossible to hear anything at all. A deathly, eerie calm pervaded the shadowy entrance area.
Suddenly, lights flooded on, accompanied by ear-rattling dubstep music. The bass drops reverberated in my throat, shaking my entire body. Temporarily thrown off by the sensory overload, I whirled around, searching for threats. I felt Ruby’s shotgun more than I saw it, the throaty bark filling the tight space as the first of the wolves burst through the door.
Then everything sped up, as the entrance doors were ripped straight from their hinges. Outside, the casino was again lit up in its perpetual flashing glow. But my focus was on the pack of wolves tearing up the steps, frothing at the mouth.
I plugged the next one in the head. No silver required if you got them in the brainpan or the heart with a big enough weapon. Otherwise you were in for a long damn night.
The
wolf, a medium-sized male with a brown pelt, crashed to the ground, landing in the bloody mess from Ruby’s first shot. Driven mad by Isabella’s mind-control spell, the other wolves charged forward. It was like the sight of their fallen pack members was invigorating rather than terrifying.
Ruby and I took turns, one shot, then the other, subconsciously working in tandem to time our reloads correctly. The pile of slick, crimson-stained fur grew higher, creating a wall between us and the stairs.
Still the wolves poured in, vaulting over the warm bodies like soldiers over sandbags.
My pistol clicked empty, and I yelled over the thumping music, “I’m out!”
I dug into my back pocket for a clip. Ruby took double-duty, blowing a hole straight through the chest of a small female before quickly turning to relieve a hulking brute of his head. I jammed the clip in and picked up the beat once more, firing into the endless onslaught.
Fifteen bodies deep, I heard a pained roar. That of the alpha, the pack leader, lamenting his fallen comrades. But unlike the previous cries, which had been frenzied and psychotic, this one carried a different message.
I looked over the mound of bodies, watching as the surviving wolves rose along the carpet, leaving us alone. Feeling bold, I stepped out from the club’s entrance, carefully avoiding the paws and snouts.
No wolves. The guard dogs had left the building.
I gestured back at Ruby, who joined me down by some mahjong tables. Blood dripped down the stairs leading up to the club, a silent reminder of the feverish battle.
“Delphine came through,” I said. It might not be much help, though, considering we’d slaughtered almost the entire pack.
But an alpha wasn’t a bad ally to have. And maybe reinforcements lurked in the glitzy shadows.
“Then we follow the wolves.” Ruby tucked into a sprint, her Realmfarer intuition catching the wisps of darkness left behind by the surviving members of the pack. I sprinted all out to catch up with her. We took the escalator three steps at a time, reaching a wide mall of shops dotted by slot machines.
Ruby didn’t take time to wait. She plunged forward, through the fluorescent-lit marble hallway. Now I could see the path, little patches of sweat, fur and frothing spittle marking the way forward. Past the rows of shops sat another escalator, its sign marking it as the entrance to the hotel.
A large growl came fifty feet ahead, from the landing’s top.
That couldn’t be right.
I looked up from the bottom of the escalator, helpless as the alpha collided with Ruby, bowling her down the metal stairs. He screamed and slashed, sharp claws tearing into her skin. On the floor above, unseen, the surviving pack members answered their leader’s call.
Unable to assist Ruby without potentially shooting her, I directed my attention upward. The first wolf, an eager young male drunk on overconfidence and the smell of blood, soared through the air.
But the thirty-foot drop gave me plenty of time to aim and fire. It took half a clip, but the last shot caught him right in the eye, showering the escalator’s rubber guardrail with skull fragments. His companion was a little more clever, slinking down the stairs, covered by the escalator’s walls.
I turned my attention briefly back to Ruby, who was rolling in the middle of the undulating steps in a blur of blue-gray fur. It was damn hard to tell who was winning, but my interference wasn’t going to tip the scales.
Cursing softly, I backed away, toward the shops, trying to get a better view of my quarry. The angle was still unfavorable, the stairs’ architecture hiding his exact position.
I tried to mentally count the bullets in my clip. Three? Four? Reloading was a calculated risk, given a wolf’s quickness. I decided to trust my aim, continuing to back up.
The wolf peeked his head out, almost at the bottom of the steps, and I fired. Chipped marble spit into the air, and he ducked down with a hissing growl. I heard a strained, human cry—Ruby’s—and I shifted my attention to the escalator battle.
Doing a double-take, I found that Ruby and the alpha had disappeared.
When I turned back to my prey, I found the wolf hauling ass, chewing up the twenty feet separating us like it was nothing at all. Adrenaline pumping, I pressed the trigger, catching him in the foot, then the shoulder.
I lined up the next shot, breathing deep to get his head right in the sights.
And then I pulled it again.
An empty click burst through the room like a cannonball. I saw the beast’s eyes light up with human recognition, that look you see when someone has your number. With nothing left to do, I braced for impact.
The sinewy wolf barreled into my chest, causing my bruised ribs and slashed shoulder to cry out in pain. I skittered across the slick floor, hitting the glass of a nearby coat shop with a solid thud. The shop window shuddered from the collision, but didn’t break.
Woozy and injured, I tried to rise to my knees. But my adversary was already recovered, landing a swipe with his front paw. No claws raked my skin, but the force of the blow was enough to knock me from my feet, straight into the marble. I felt my jaw pop in and out as I bounced off the ground. An involuntary yell of pain popped it back in.
The wolf’s teeth clamped down on my leg, shaking me as a dog would a rabbit. I launched a kick into its snout, the ensuing yelp indicating that I’d landed a successful blow. Claws scratched against the slippery marble as the beast regrouped for another attack.
My fuzzy brain registered that the empty .45 was no longer in my possession. I rolled over, muscles protesting any movement at all, finding the wolf hunched low. His tail almost touched the floor, and his bloodied snout—courtesy of my well-placed kick—quivered with an unending snarl.
“Well, get on with it you son of a bitch,” I said.
He scrambled forward, launching himself toward me. I reached for my ankle sheath, and in one smooth motion, speared him out of the air, jamming the sharp blade right through his throat. There was a solitary whimper, and then his feral eyes went blank.
I wanted to rest and sleep right then, but something had gone wrong. Delphine’s spell had failed, which meant my plan was finished, too. But we still had to face Isabella, regardless of how futile it might be.
If there still was a we.
I limped up the escalator, slumping against the guardrail for support. As I reached the top, I saw Ruby’s shotgun catch the light, then hurtle downward, the stock connecting with the alpha’s head. She repeated the motion until he was little more than a puddle, so many times that she didn’t even notice me.
Ruby shuddered when I put my hand on her shoulder.
I said, “I think you got him.”
“It just…I don’t…”
A screen came on above the elevator. Who else but Isabella?
“The penthouse suite, Kalos. It is time.”
I gave Ruby a pat and dragged myself toward the shimmering clear doors. When she looked up, I gave her a nod. Her eyes flashed with understanding. I caught the shotgun and pouch of shells she flung my way.
“Just bring it back in one piece,” Ruby said.
“No promises.”
And then the doors shut, and I went off to face my destiny.
Alone.
61
It was a fight just keeping my eyes open as the elevator slowly rose upward. The open glass offered an amazing view of the casino and surrounding area. Houston winked in the distance, the inhabitants still burning the midnight oil.
With shaky hands, I managed to reload the shotgun. The shells slid smoothly into the masterfully made chamber. My fingers slid along the chassis, finding an etching in the stock. I brought it up to my tired eyes, reading the small, perfectly carved text.
“Carry this weapon well, Realmfarer. Escape and live in the light, with the mortals.” I paused. “Love, Galleron.”
Wasn’t going to be
much light left at this rate. But still, the sentiment was nice enough.
The elevator glided to a smooth stop. The doors slid open, and I hauled myself into the penthouse. As one might suspect, it was quite the room: an open floor plan, easily fifteen hundred square feet, with a modern, silver-plated staircase leading up to a second floor.
But traveling upstairs wouldn’t be necessary.
For Isabella was standing right at the room’s center, in front of a black backdrop. A camera’s light blinked red, indicating that she was recording.
“I wanted you to witness this, Kalos.”
I raised the shotgun, staring through the crosshairs mounted on top. “Here I am.”
“It is a thing of beauty.”
“The apartment’s pretty nice,” I said. “Not my style.”
“My aura.” Her sultry tone took on a hard, dismissive edge. “A mortal like you could not understand. Perhaps I should have invited the Realmfarer.”
“I think you’d like her presence even less than mine.”
Isabella glittered when she faced me. In person, the modifications were even more stunning, making her appear like she’d been augmented in some sort of science fiction way. Her heels tapped as she walked toward me. Any trace of a limp was gone.
Her eyes flashed a familiar, bright shade of orange. I saw the dried blood in the crook of her elbow.
“Where’s Marrack?” I glanced around the penthouse. But there was really nowhere for him to hide. Nothing but glass windows, a stainless steel kitchen and a few sticks of modern leather furniture.
“Love is such a funny thing.” Isabella’s golden tresses glinted as she came to a stop. Her slender stomach touched the end of the shotgun, daring me to shoot. “It blinds someone to what they might otherwise see.”
I wanted to pull the trigger, but the story wrapped me up like a siren’s call. Jasmine and vanilla flooded my nostrils, overwhelming any protests I might have. Yes. I loved this woman. I had for almost three thousand years. Promised never to kill her, to protect her from harm.
This was my destiny.
Moon Burn (The Half-Demon Rogue Trilogy Book 3) Page 25