The phone at his place rang once, twice… On the fifth ring, he hung up and tried Blair’s cell, cursing when she didn’t pick up. She should have answered one of them.
He stared at his phone, willing it to ring back. Maybe she’d just been late grabbing it and was in the midst of calling him back. He clenched the phone in his hand, refusing to give into the panic wedged under his ribs.
Wild goose chase.
The words ran through his mind, and he turned and sprinted back to his Jeep, patching back into the field office. “Something’s wrong.”
“Want my help after all, huh?” Quinn purred.
“Blair’s not answering the phone. Something’s wrong.” Very fucking wrong. Every second that ticked off in his head churned his insides into cement.
“Maybe she and Molly are just playing outside.”
If she’d said it without the long, worried pause at the beginning, he might have let himself believe it.
“Send someone over here to track this damn hostile. I’m headed home.”
“I’m sending Brax to meet you.”
He floored the gas pedal and spun around the half empty lot. “If Holson has touched one hair on either of their heads, the bastard won’t live out the day.”
“We don’t know—”
“I do.” But he wished to hell he didn’t. Wished he could abandon the certainty that something had happened since he’d left the house less than half an hour ago.
He drove the entire way home like the hounds of hell were after him, barely taking the time to jam the gearshift into park when he hit his driveway. He was halfway to the front steps when the fear coating his insides turned to reinforced steel.
They weren’t here. He knew it before he reached the door, before he ran through the house yelling for them.
Braxton pulled up out front just as he came back outside.
Drew shook his head, touching his com device. “Get Rae, Quinn. I want to know where Holson lives and I want to know now!”
Something poked her. Something warm and sticky, and with every purposeful poke, Blair became increasing aware of the pain in her head.
“Please wake up now.”
She frowned at the whispered plea, dragging her eyes open and immediately flinching as the overhead light made the pain in her head intensify.
“Blair?”
Molly? She sat up slowly, nearly knocked backwards when the little girl scrambled into her lap, her fingers still sticky from the pancake syrup.
She gave their surroundings a fast sweep, recognizing the church’s lower level immediately.
Molly threw her arms around Blair’s neck. “I’m trying real hard not to let the monster scare me.”
Her fear slid through Blair, the sensation drowned out by the crackle of awareness that licked up her spine. “Close your eyes,” she said to Molly, then lifted the child in her arms and turned to face the demon standing by the door.
The very same storm demon that had attacked her outside her apartment.
Unprepared for the rush of fury that poured into her veins, she tightened her hold on Molly.
The demon grinned, feeding off her anger, and took a taunting step in their direction.
“Soon.”
Blair spun around at the familiar voice, the soft command stopping the demon from coming any closer. She backed up a step, keeping the demon in her peripheral vision as she focused on the woman in front of her. “Whitney?”
Her friend strolled further into the room. “How many times did I try to warn you to back off the Holson story, Blair? I told you again and again that it was a dead end. I really wished you had listened to me.”
More than once in the last few weeks Blair had wished she’d taken that advice, but right now was not one of those times. She should have known something wasn’t right sooner. All the signs were there, but far too obvious. If she’d been paying better attention, she would have realized Whitney had only looked upset, but without actually feeling that way.
God, she’d trusted Whitney, and her friend had all but served them up on a fucking silver platter.
“Whatever you’re into—”
“Into?” Whitney laughed. “You and I are old friends, Blair. I had hoped one day I would have been able to introduce you to my world. Of course that was before I knew you were tainted.”
Blair frowned.
“Impure,” Whitney continued. “An abomination of half breeds that should have been wiped out thousands of years ago.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but she does.” Jonas Holson entered the room so quietly Blair hadn’t seen or heard him come in. He hadn’t used the door behind Whitney, so that left one hidden behind the tapestries draping the walls.
Watts trailed behind him like a loyal disciple.
“Whitney has been an incredible protégé,” Holson explained smoothly. “She understands the sacrifices we all must make to be worthy.”
“Worthy of what?” Blair’s gaze darted to the storm demon that stared a little too intently at Molly.
“To ascend.”
Something was clearly in the incense these people were inhaling. “I’m assuming you’re not talking about heaven here.”
Whitney scoffed. “Heaven is the creation of a weak population too busy ignoring the truly divine already among us.”
Blair slanted the storm demon a curious look. “Must be some magik hiding those wings.”
“You have not earned the right to look upon him.”
“It,” Blair corrected. “That’s the only personal pronoun a Shadow Demon qualifies for in my book.”
Whitney stalked toward her, and Blair pulled in every bit of the anger radiating off her ex-friend, letting it swirl inside her. Her vision shifted at the edges, and Whitney, taking notice of that, took a cautious step back.
Jonas shook his head at Blair, taking Whitney’s hand and leading her away before she was stupid enough to actually touch her. “She provokes you, my dear, hoping it will help her to get out of here.”
“It’s too late for that,” Whitney predicted, but still darted a nervous look over her shoulder at Blair.
“Kenny knew about all of this, didn’t he? Did you have the balls to take him out yourself, Holson, or did you just sic one of your pet demons on him?”
Holson’s eyes flared at the edges. “He became a liability, just like you.”
“The plane will be leaving in under an hour,” Whitney reminded Holson.
Plane?
“My daddy won’t let you take me anywhere.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” Blair murmured.
Her odds were looking about as good as they had the night she’d followed the war demon outside on the roof. Scratch that. At least then she’d had the busted beer bottle.
“A fitting tribute?” Holson asked, acknowledging the storm demon with a respectful tip of his head.
Its gaze raked over Blair. The demon nodded in approval, and her stomach heaved.
Holson jerked his head in Molly’s direction. “It’s time. Get the child.”
Over Blair’s dead body. She turned, shielding Drew’s little girl. “Afraid to try and take her from me yourself, Holson?”
He ignored her, glanced pointedly at Whitney.
“For a man who prides himself on being so informed, I’m rather stunned you’ve overlooked the elephant in the room.”
Holson was just arrogant enough to be baited. “And that would be?”
“Molly is precognitive.”
He gave her a bored look. “Why do you think she is of interest to us? With her help, we will be able to find the best ways to spread our message and obtain complete enlightenment. Only then can we hope to ascend and touch the hand of Khansoor.”
Blair recognized the name immediately from her initial research after talking to Rae. Four thousand years ago Khansoor had betrayed his family by slaughtering his brother’s daughter to prove he should lead their people. His betra
yal had caused him and his followers to be cursed as demons and triggered the war between demons and Destroyers that had been playing out ever since.
“So are you deaf or just dumb?” Blair shrugged. “I was just wondering if you didn’t hear her, or didn’t understand the part where the precognitive child said her daddy was coming for her?”
Not exactly what Molly had said, but close enough.
Holson’s gaze darted to Molly, the lines around his eyes tightening as he processed the implications.
A gunshot echoed upstairs in the church.
Blair could have collapsed in relief. She smiled coldly. “Exactly how fast can you run?”
“I’m only picking up on one demon inside, but enough people to cause a serious problem.” Especially if they were armed.
Braxton met Drew’s gaze. “We can’t wait for the others.”
He nodded, his fingers brushing the sword still sheathed for the time being. The last time he’d been here every person in the place had taken off when he arrived, and he was really hoping for a repeat performance. The less people he had to fight his way through to get to Blair and Molly, the better.
“Both of us in through the front?”
“Yeah.” Where there were only the two of them, it was better odds than splitting up. The others couldn’t be far behind.
The tracking device Parker had managed to attach to Holson’s car made it easier to find the bastard than Drew had anticipated. But to cover all the bases, they’d all split up to also cover Holson’s home, the shop at the mall and the airport Holson was scheduled to fly out of very soon.
Once Braxton got within a hundred feet of the rundown church, he’d known Blair and Molly were inside. Alive.
Which was more than Drew could say for Holson when he got a hold of him.
Above them, dark, angry clouds rammed together, followed by an explosion of thunder. Then it started to rain.
Drew sucked in a deep breath, the sharp-edged need to find and protect Blair and Molly giving him a strength and focus he hadn’t felt in weeks. He’d let them both down before, but this would not be another one of those times. He needed them too much to be anything but the trained Shadow Destroyer more than capable of kicking serious ass. Doubting himself at this point left too much room for mistakes, and it stopped here.
Braxton slid across the street and up the steps, Drew on his heels. Like before, the front door had been unlocked. Either these people weren’t worried about people coming in off the street or they—
Wood splintered off the door frame, the shot echoing in the quiet church.
If ever there was one way to guarantee the police would come running, that was it.
“Welcoming party?” Braxton quipped and dropped to the ground, moving quick and low.
Somewhere below them he heard Blair yell and Molly cry out, and his insides shattered.
Whoever used the vast shadows inside the church to hide didn’t know what they were up against.
“Two tucked down in the right aisle. One armed.” Braxton’s thoughts streamed through his mind.
“And three more near the altar.” Keeping their distance wouldn’t help them. “Two in the hall.” Drew moved low along the back of the pew closest to the door. He could hear the two stirring restlessly in the hallway, probably hoping that keeping the lights turned off would help them.
Shots glanced off the pew and tore into the wall behind him, but he was moving too fast for them. He was moving too fast for a damn sniper, but none of the idiots had realized that.
More shots plowed into the plaster molding and the sound of a struggle broke out near the front of the church. Drew didn’t slow down, using a pillar as cover before taking down the first asshole stupid enough to try to jockey for a better position.
A hard fist to the face and the man crumpled, his gun sliding across the ground. Drew snapped it up, tucking it at the small of his back as he listened for the other one standing between him and the narrow hall leading to the basement. There probably was another way down, but he didn’t have the time to search.
A creak of wood, and Drew dove hard over the end of the row, tackling the—woman?—to the ground. The knife she’d armed herself with clattered across the floor on impact, and she struggled beneath him like a vicious banshee, screaming and dragging her nails down his arm.
Goddamn it. Facing female hostiles had forced him to grow accustomed to hitting women, and he didn’t flinch to knock this one out cold before closing in on the hallway.
The other end of the church had grown quiet, but he didn’t slow down. He didn’t doubt for a moment Brax had it under control. He saw the two in the hallway long before they saw him, slipping silently through the shadows like the very demons they worshiped.
The furthest guy got a shot off that whistled past Drew’s ear as he neutralized the moron who’d taken up point. And this was why he preferred demons, liked knowing when he walked away they wouldn’t be getting back up. Dealing with his own kind, he didn’t have that kind of guarantee short of killing someone.
Seeing the first guy stumble and sag to the floor, the last threat between him and the stairs dropped his weapon and bolted.
Fine by Drew.
He went past the short hallway that led to the balcony. He’d make too much of an easy target up there. The stairs were his only other option and whoever stood at the bottom probably knew he was coming.
The sliding of a round into a gun chamber below gave him pause. He glanced over the side of the railing, judged the remaining distance to the ground, then vaulted over the banister. The drop was soundless, but for the grunt that broke past his lips as pain burned up his leg on impact.
The guy waiting at the bottom scrambled back, but not fast enough. Drew left him in a motionless heap at the base of the stairs.
The murmur of voices had grown quiet, but not so much that he couldn’t identify three other people in the room with Molly and Blair. Plus the Shadow Demon. He removed his sword, the weight of it familiar and steady in his hand.
Light spilled from an opening in the thick tapestries that covered the walls. Another crash of thunder reverberated above them, the building damn near shaking from the force of it.
Molly screamed and he shoved past the heavy drapery, saw Blair with her back against the wall. Molly had a death grip on her, and two men Drew recognized as Holson’s guys from the resort were moving in on them. He picked Holson out immediately, along with the other man he’d been arguing with on the golf course.
A woman wrenched open the door that led to the back parking lot, and was soaked from the driving rain within seconds. “We need to go.” She shouted to be heard above the near endless explosions of thunder.
Each one sounded like a cannon blast going off in Drew’s ear, but he focused on Blair and Molly only. The two men rushed Blair, one ripping Molly out of her arms and running for the door, the other shrieking and dropping like a stone after grabbing a hold of Blair.
Drew shot forward, pivoting at the last second as the storm demon came at him from the side. The hostile slammed into him, knocking him clean off his feet. He landed hard enough to rattle his teeth, but was back on his feet, his sword up to defend himself.
From the corner of his eye he saw Holson plunge into the rain—with Molly in his arms.
Blair tensed at the waves of vicious emotion that pounded at her. She pressed back against the wall, immobilized by the sheer force of it thickening in the room. Holson’s greed and determination, Whitney’s panic, Molly’s fear.
Drew’s fury.
Watts’s crumpled body lay at her feet. She didn’t know if he was dead or alive, only that the second he’d touched her, the depth of his anger and aggression triggered an explosive shock he hadn’t seen coming. Would it happen again if she dared to make a move toward Drew or Molly?
Her gaze snapped to his, but she saw no accusation in his eyes—only trust. Complete, unshakeable trust that she could do this.
The unyielding wave o
f raw emotion—his faith in her, his love, his love for his little girl—twisted inside her, more potent than any of the others. Drew had only been half right. It wasn’t just what they did with their abilities that separated them from Shadow Demons. It was their need to cherish and protect, to fight—to love—that truly separated them from the demons. Separated her.
Believing that, embracing it, banished the last trace of doubt in her mind, and then everything inside her let go. Every knot unfastening, every nerve ending firing, the once unbearable hum of energy sliding effortlessly under her skin.
She shoved away from the wall, her eyes locked on Whitney.
Whitney scrambled back, and ran for the door. But instead of trying to flee, she planted her feet, barricading the opening with her body. Rain slashed at Whitney’s back, a gust of wind tearing at her hair, the long wet strands snapping wildly against her cheeks. “The girl belongs to him now. She will be the perfect oracle.”
“Get out of my way, Whitney,” Blair snarled.
The other woman shook her head, then recoiled before Blair took another step.
Blood darkened the arm of Whitney’s shirt.
“Go,” Drew yelled, the gun he’d used to shoot Whitney knocked out his hand by the storm demon.
Blair saw him spin around and drive the length of his sword down the creature’s body. She darted into the rain, sprinting past Whitney who’d collapsed on the ground, cradling her injured arm against her body.
A black sedan was parked fifty feet from the rear entrance, the back door open. Holson struggled to drag Molly toward it, and Blair sprinted after them.
Something knocked her sideways, and she stumbled, going down hard, her hands scraping across the crushed gravel.
The storm demon barreled past her, headed toward the sedan. Taken aback by the demon bearing down on him, Holson staggered back, releasing his hold on Molly on instinct.
The demon was fast, but not as fast as Drew, who cut it off just as Blair dragged herself to her feet. A heartbeat later Molly was in her arms, the little girl’s arms wrapped tight around Blair’s neck. She had no idea which of them felt more relieved, didn’t care. Just hung on tight.
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