Dare Me

by Parker Blue

  DONE. MICAH SAYS TO MEET HIM AT THE CLUB.

  “Okay.”

  Fang and I leisurely made our way back to my Valkyrie, like good little law-abiding citizens, not wanting to give the police any reason to stop and detain us. Luckily, the motorcycle’s small profile made it easy to weave through parked cars and get out into traffic without incident.

  When I arrived at Club Purgatory, Tessa met us at the front door. “Micah wants you to wait in his office.”

  “Okay. Hey, was anyone injured or arrested?”

  She shrugged. “Micah said there were some minor injuries—nothing serious. And the lieutenant ensured no one was arrested. He’ll be here soon.”

  Ah, good news for a change. I was all for that. I smiled at Tessa and headed for Micah’s office. It blocked out most of the noise from the club downstairs. Austin was already there, along with Max, strangely enough. Apparently, Micah hadn’t been able to make it through the traffic yet.

  “You brought Diesel back here?” I asked Austin. “To a cell downstairs?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and the dog insisted on coming, too.”

  DAMN STRAIGHT, Max said. THOUGH IT TOOK ME A WHILE TO GET IT THROUGH HIS THICK HEAD THAT I WASN’T LEAVING DIESEL.

  Amused, I wondered how he’d communicated that to a vampire who couldn’t hear him.

  Fang laughed in my mind. OH, WE HAVE OUR WAYS.

  I could vouch for that.

  Micah arrived then, just as I was asking Austin, “Did Shade and Sharra get away okay? And Gwen? And . . . your friends?” I wasn’t quite sure how to refer to the rest of the bloodsuckers without offending him.

  “Gwen’s fine,” Austin assured me. “And the shadow demons are safe. There were no serious injuries amongst the Movement.”

  “Good,” Micah said and turned to Max. “Is Diesel still out of it?”

  I DON’T KNOW. CAN’T READ HIM.

  “Oh, that’s right. He can’t communicate with him because of the Perdo,” I told Austin. “He’ll be affected for a while, but we won’t be able to get any intel out of him until Emmanuel’s influence is gone.” I looked down at Max again. “Any idea when that might be?”

  Max harrumphed. SHOULD BE PRETTY SOON, I THINK. BUT YOU MIGHT WANNA MAKE SURE THE ASSHOLE’S CONTROL RUBS OFF BEFORE THE PERDO DOES. NO TELLING WHAT’LL HAPPEN OTHERWISE.

  I had a sudden vision of the telekinetic Diesel bending steel bars, blasting through the door, and coming after us. Not good.

  CAN HE ACTUALLY DO THAT? Fang asked Max. BEND BARS AND STUFF?

  The bulldog managed a shrug. MAYBE, he said in his gravelly voice.

  Real helpful. I wondered if he really didn’t know, or if he just really didn’t want to tell us. When neither hellhound clued me in, I repeated the exchange to Austin. “Maybe we should give him more Perdo,” I suggested to Micah. “As insurance.”

  He nodded. “I have more downstairs. Let’s check on him.”

  We trooped downstairs and found Diesel in the cell next to Jorge. They couldn’t see each other, but Jorge was yelling at Diesel in Spanish.

  The tan, bald dude in the leather duster didn’t look so badass now. He was holding his head like it was a fragile thing about to pop. I knew how that felt, having been through it myself.

  He winced when he saw us. “Can you shut him up, please?” he asked.

  “Gladly,” I said. Especially since Jorge had turned his curses against us. At least, I assumed that’s what he was doing—I didn’t understand much Spanish. Not that I really wanted to know.

  Moron—if we let him go, Emmanuel would kill him like the other guy I’d controlled. Reaching out with Lola, I clutched him right in his chakras and said, “Sit down and shut up.”

  He obeyed.

  Diesel glanced at me with one eye, the other still wincing. “Nice trick. How’d you do it?”

  I shrugged. “My innate charm.”

  “Max!” Diesel cried when he caught sight of the hellhound. “I wondered what happened to you.”

  “Perdo,” I explained.

  I didn’t have to say more. “Oh,” Diesel said and waved his hand experimentally. “So that’s why—”

  When he broke off, I said, “Yes, that’s why your telekinesis isn’t working. And we know who you are. What we don’t know is who owns your mind right now.”

  “I do,” he said, sounding indignant.

  “Does he?” Micah asked Max.

  HOW WOULD I KNOW? the hellhound growled. I CAN’T READ HIM RIGHT NOW, REMEMBER?

  Austin looked at me. “I take it Max can’t tell. Having been in his situation myself, I don’t think he’s under control, but you can test it, can’t you?”

  “I was just about to do that.” I hadn’t been able to reach Jorge or the others with Lola when they were under Emmanuel’s control. So, if Lola worked . . .

  I reached for Diesel and let Lola’s tentacles sink into him. Though she’d been weakened by the spell, she still had enough juice for this. And since I was able to feel his chakras, it appeared as if he was no longer under Emmanuel’s influence. But, just to test it, I told him, “Stand up and tell us your real name.”

  He stood up abruptly and barked, “Hadley Percy Shelley.”

  Sheesh. No wonder he went by another name. I glanced at Max for confirmation.

  YEP, the bulldog confirmed. BUT I ADVISE YOU TO FORGET IT REAL FAST.

  I let go of Diesel. “Sorry about that. But we had to be sure of you before we let the Perdo wear off.”

  He glared at me. “Succubus, huh?”

  I nodded. “And at Max’s request, all of us will now forget we ever heard your real name.”

  He pointedly ignored that. “Well, now that you’re sure of me,” he said sarcastically, “can I get out of this damned cell?”

  “Of course,” Micah said, and hurried forward to unlock it. “Let’s adjourn to my office. I have something for your headache there.”

  “Good,” Diesel said and followed Micah out of the room.

  When we got back to the office, the New Mexico Paladin still seemed a bit surly, but gulped down the painkillers and asked, “Who are you people?”

  Micah leaned forward to shake his hand. “I’m Micah Blackburn, leader of the San Antonio Demon Underground, and this is my Paladin, Val Shapiro.”

  Diesel eyed me dubiously. “Paladin, huh? There must be more to you than can be seen with the naked eye.”

  “Yep, just like you.”

  Fang chuckled at that, and even Max let out a snort.

  “And this is Fang, my hellhound, and Austin,” I said as Austin shook his hand. “He’s one of our liaisons to the New Blood Movement.”

  Diesel eyed him thoughtfully. “One of the good vamps, huh?”

  “Yes,” Micah said firmly.

  “No problem here,” Diesel said, holding up his hands. “But sometimes it’s hard to tell the good guys from the bad without a scorecard.”

  I grimaced. “I know. And you were one of the bad guys yourself, not so long ago.”

  “Not by choice,” he assured me.

  “We’re aware of that,” Micah said. “But now that you’re back to your senses, we can use your help to get rid of Emmanuel.”

  “Good,” Diesel said with a curl of his lip. “I owe that bastard plenty.”

  “And you’ll be able to help us give it to him,” Micah assured him. “That is, if you remember everything that happened while you were being controlled. Some of our people were ordered to forget.”

  “He never expected me to escape his clutches, so I remember everything.” Diesel’s smile turned nasty. “And payback’s a bitch. What do you need to know?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Val

  WITH DIESEL’S HELP, we learned where Emmanuel
was hiding out and that he had twenty-five or so followers here in Texas. But the secretive blood demon didn’t often reveal his whereabouts, so with any luck, there would be a lot fewer at his headquarters.

  “We can’t count on that,” Diesel said. “I think he’ll draw everyone in, just in case. He must know I’m compromised. He’ll move as soon as he can.”

  “Then we need to go right away,” I insisted. “Before he has a chance to regroup.”

  “Yes,” Micah said. “I don’t know who I’ll be able to get on such short notice, but I’ll send as many demons there to help as possible.”

  “Alejandro will send some people as well,” Austin promised.

  “I’ll call in the SCU,” Ramirez said.

  I slanted him a worried look. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I know they’re good, but they’re all human and no match for his much stronger henchmen.”

  Ramirez nodded. “I don’t intend for them to engage, but to guard the perimeter for you.”

  Thank goodness. “We’ll need the shadow demons, too,” I reminded Austin.

  He nodded. “I’ll have them there. Do you need Luis to bring you some weapons?”

  “No, I have everything I need.” Between Lola, the strength spell, and the amulet, I should be good to go.

  Austin held his hand out. “Gimme.”

  I played dumb. “What?”

  “Give me the amulet,” he repeated. “You promised, Val. And don’t worry, if we think it’s necessary for you to use it, I’ll give it back to you. But only if it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Well, it wasn’t ideal, but it would do. I handed it over and watched him put it in his back pocket. And, just in case they wouldn’t let me use it, I changed my mind about weapons. I took my crossbow, sword, and a few stakes. I might not need any of them, but they made me feel better. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Diesel directed us to Emmanuel’s hide-out, a high-faluting mansion not far from Alejandro’s. Sheesh. Either being a blood demon paid really well, or he’d coerced some people into renting it to him. Heck, with his abilities, they might have just given it to him. We fanned out unobtrusively to surround the place. There were only a few each of the vamps and demons so far. Enough to tackle this place?

  DOESN’T MATTER, Max said. WE NEED TO DO IT NOW. HE’S INSIDE, BUT WON’T STAY THERE LONG.

  Good. “Do you know how many followers are in there with him?

  NO, I CAN’T READ THEIR MINDS.

  NO OTHER DEMONS, Fang explained. OR VAMPS. BUT MAX IS RIGHT—EMMANUEL IS GETTING READY TO LEAVE.

  We’d just have to wing it, then, and catch him inside before he took off. “What’s the best way to get inside?” I asked Diesel.

  He shrugged. “There isn’t one, not a quiet one anyway. He keeps all the doors and windows locked, so you’ll have to break in. That’ll give us away for sure.”

  “Put someone at each door and window,” Ramirez said. “And all go in at the same time.”

  Swiftly, we assigned locations to everyone. I was going in the front door since Fang said Emmanuel was on the ground floor. Austin and Fang were going in with me. Couldn’t shake them even if I wanted to, and frankly, didn’t want to. “Okay, we need to go now.” I glanced at Austin. “Are the shadow demons on their way?”

  “Yes, they’re here already, in a car guarded by some vamps. I’ll have them brought in when we need them.”

  “Okay. Let’s do this. And try not to kill any humans.”

  We took our positions, and, when Ramirez gave us the signal, Austin, Fang, and I all hit the front door simultaneously. The hinges gave way, and the door slammed straight down to the floor. It might have been solid oak, but it was no match for the combined strength of a vamp and my strength spell. Oh, and Fang, of course.

  YEAH, AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT.

  We leapt on top of the door, ready for action, the sound of glass breaking as others made their own dramatic entries. The door opened up into a large living area with a marble floor and a grand staircase going up the center and curving to both sides. Empty. Too bad no one caught our cool entrance.

  But they soon came boiling out of the woodwork like cockroaches, about six of them, straight for us.

  “A little help here,” I called.

  “Got it,” Diesel yelled from the window on the right, his black leather duster flaring as he threw out his hand and used his telekinetic powers to sweep three of them into the wall.

  “Go,” Austin yelled as he blocked the charge of one guy who seemed intent on stopping us with his bare hands. “Find Emmanuel.”

  THIS WAY, Fang said, and took off running.

  “Cover me,” I yelled to Diesel and heard Max barking orders to the other demons in the room. I shoved one would-be attacker aside and dodged the others to charge after Fang who was acting as a furry beacon running straight to the blood demon.

  Emmanuel was in a room at the back of the house that was probably intended to be used as a bedroom, but he had the walls shrouded in black, with an altar that held gleaming knives and a silver cup. For them to worship him? Yuck.

  I took all this in an instant before I focused on the most important thing—Emmanuel. He knelt next to a man, cupping his head in one hand while holding his other palm to the man’s mouth. Making him drink his blood? Ewwww.

  When he saw us, he hissed, “Defend your savior.”

  The minion leapt to his feet, a fanatical gleam in his eyes, and snatched a knife from the altar, swiping it at me.

  How could I stop him without killing him?

  WE GOT THIS, Fang said, and he and Max hit the guy square in the crotch—Fang’s signature move.

  HEY, WHEN YOU’RE MY SIZE, YOU GOTTA STICK WITH WHAT WORKS.

  The man went down, moaning, his eyes rolling back in his head. Max chomped down on the guy’s hand. He released it, then Max picked up the hilt in his mouth and tossed the weapon in the corner.

  Good hellhound.

  Another follower tackled me, allowing Emmanuel to dart past us, yelling, “To me, to me.” He ran out into the great room.

  I scrambled away from the minion and left him to the dogs then followed hot on the blood demon’s heels.

  It was pandemonium out there. Vamps and minions fought hand to hand while Andrew fired out balls of flame to light their clothing on fire, Ludwig shot water torpedoes to bowl them down, and Diesel slammed them up against walls.

  But the worst part of all, Shade and Sharra stood a few steps up on the staircase, looking like a couple of major swirl fests, cycling much faster than I’d ever seen before. A sickly green portal built between their outstretched arms, shot through with silent, creepy lightning. What the heck? Why were they here? It was too early.

  THEIR IDEA, Fang said in disgust. THEY WANTED TO HELP.

  “Use it, Val,” Shade called out. “Send Emmanuel back.”

  Crap. Way to telegraph our plan. I leapt over a couple of fallen minions and raced toward the stairs.

  Unfortunately, Emmanuel got there first, then grabbed Sharra by the throat. “Close it,” he ordered Shade then pointed at me. “And you—don’t come any closer or I’ll kill her.”

  The portal faltered, and so did I, at the bottom of the stairs. I couldn’t let either of the shadow demons get hurt. His minions dashed to defend him, eight of them intent holding the stairs against all comers. I couldn’t get through without killing humans, or at least hurting them very badly. But at this point, I was willing to do just that.

  NO, Fang said. YOU’D NEVER FORGIVE YOURSELF.

  Crap, he was right.

  Sharra fought, scratching for Emmanuel’s eyes, and distracted him. That was my chance.

  I knocked one guy out and turned around to find Austin. “Give me the amulet,” I yelled at him. I had no choice
—it was our only chance.

  “No,” he said as grappled with another minion.

  “Damn it, I need it.”

  “No,” Austin said, choking him until he passed out. “You’re Val Shapiro, the Slayer. You don’t need the help of a magickal object.”

  Use me now, the amulet called.

  “Do something,” Shade yelled. He was frantically trying to pull Sharra out of Emmanuel’s hold, but the blood demon was too strong for him. Emmanuel held Sharra’s head in a vise-like grip, shoving his bloody palm against her mouth. Gross.

  Worse, the portal seemed to be growing without control, and I could see the flash of faces and body parts in the green cloud. Oh, crap. Demons trying to come through?

  Well, if I couldn’t use magick, I’d fall back on my Slayer skills. I backed up, then ran at the stairs full of angry followers grappling with demons and vamps. I took a flying leap, kicked one idiot in the face who tried to stop me, and bowled into the blood and shadow demons, ensuring the shadow demons rolled away from the cloud. They had to stay on this side of the portal.

  We all went down in a chaotic mess of squirming arms and legs.

  Sharra spit out blood. Emmanuel grinned evilly and grabbed her head and parted his lips. No! I had to stop him from ordering her to do something she’d always regret. I drew my sword and swung it at Emmanuel’s throat, desperate to stop him.

  But I’d forgotten the strength spell, and the sword sliced through Emmanuel’s neck like it was made of soft cheese. His head fell with a splat and bounced down the stairs.

  Austin kicked it viciously. “That’s for Cyndi Krupa.”

  It went flying into an open door.

  AND HE SCORES! Fang cheered.

  That took care of Emmanuel. Permanently. Who knew the mundane method would be the one that worked?

  But if I’d hoped that would release his followers and make them all compliant, I was sorely disappointed. They screamed in rage and went berserk.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Val