by Tamela Miles
“Oh God, no!” Patrick frantically stepped closer as Cascadia backed away, stepping back into the portal with a hateful smile.
“We have plans for your little family, Pyro and I.” She waved her fingers at him, turning around and stepping into the ether as the doorway between dimensions closed, leaving nothing but the stench of sulfur in the air and dead silence.
Patrick gave a primal shout, dropping to his knees at the baby’s crib, his eyes drenched in tears. His next, immediate thought was of Elle’s safety, knowing that she was in a deep thrall. He was up on his feet and charging down the hallway to their bedroom. He leaned over his sleeping wife, shaking her roughly. “Elle, baby, wake up. Come on, fight it and open your eyes for me.”
****
Elle was too numb to cry as she lifted her baby girl’s sleeping blanket to her face, deeply inhaling the sweet scent of baby powder. Her voice hitched brokenly. “My little Mads is gone.” She was lost in grief, her back to Patrick standing behind her. “We’re horrible parents. Any decent set of parents would have sought some kind of angelic protection from this very thing until she was grown.”
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she quickly shrugged it off, whipping around to face him. “I trusted you. I believed you when you said we were safe from Pyro and Cascadia. You were wrong—they didn’t forget about us at all. They were just waiting for us to make the mistake of thinking that.” She landed a hard blow to his chest. “You were wrong!”
Her fear and anger exploded, and she struck his chest with a clenched fist again and again, until he wrapped his arms around her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She couldn’t concentrate on the soft words he whispered, trying to pull away. He held her tighter, and the dam broke, sobs coming forth from deep inside of her. She stopped fighting him, leaning into his embrace.
Patrick finally spoke, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Tagas will know what to do. I’ll get him over here as quickly as possible, and he’ll help us. All of the Heavens will help us get her back, baby. Please believe that. This was purely my mistake, and I’ll find Mads, even it if means that I die in the fight.” He rocked Elle in his arms. “This is not the end of our happy life.”
Elle nodded, dashing away tears with the back of her hand. “Tagas can fix this. We need him now.”
****
Tagas wore a grim expression as he looked from Elle to Patrick. They sat in the living room, Patrick having relayed the situation to him. The news of baby Madison’s abduction at the hands of Cascadia and Pyro was deeply troubling, but he remained silent, his sharp mind already spinning with ideas to get her back to her parents safely.
“Tagas, please don’t tell us that you can’t involve yourself in this one,” Elle pleaded. “This is my little baby, for God’s sake. She’s been gone for two hours, and I feel like time is already running out. Pyro is evil and twisted—he and Cascadia are capable of anything. We have to find Mads.”
The guardian angel looked deeply into her eyes. “This is definitely a situation that God wills me to become involved in, as well as some other guardians. I won’t lie to you—your child is in extreme danger, and it’s best for you to do your part and leave the other work to us.” He leaned forward, clutching Elle’s hand. His eyes shone bright with unshed tears, feeling her pain. “I’ll fight for the both of you.”
Patrick placed his hand on top of their joined ones. “Thank you, my old friend. Please tell us you have a plan and a backup plan, too.”
Tagas nodded. “You’d better believe I do.”
The pain in Patrick’s heart was etched on his face, and Tagas embraced every bit of their human experience, carrying it in his own heart. Guardian angels were far more objective than the hybrids and humans, but that, in no way, meant that they had no empathy and compassion. It cut him deeply to see the girl he had once relentlessly trained and shaped into a fine demon hunter and his old comrade suffering. He vowed, in that moment, to get their child back to them and grind Pyro’s empire to ash.
****
Dusk had come to Los Angeles, and Cascadia groaned in agitation, her overwhelming need to feed keeping her from fully concentrating on anything else. She was holed up in one of Pyro’s larger homes, high above Sunset Boulevard in the Hollywood Hills. No one but he and the human evening nanny he had hired knew she was there, guarding the hunter’s child. She considered draining the nanny once she arrived and leaving the body floating in the massive pool just outside the patio door to show Pyro that she had her limits.
She glanced dispassionately at the baby, sleeping in the carrier on the plush sofa next to her. She noted the child was still breathing before returning her attention to her cell phone. A dead baby would spoil Pyro’s plan, and she solely would be on the receiving end of his wrath. She tapped the screen, relieved that the call didn’t go to voicemail. He answered immediately.
She put a touch of venom in her tone. “I’m hungry and tired of babysitting duty. It cried for an hour straight, and I was tempted to suck the life out of it. Where’s the night nanny?”
“That would be a costly mistake, my sweet. I need the child alive for my plan to fall into place. Once the nanny arrives, you’re free to satiate your hunger. Not a moment before.” He ended the call abruptly, and she fought the raging urge to break of one his priceless art pieces. She would quietly bide her time in a subservient position, waiting for Pyro to make a mistake.
****
Elle awoke to Patrick thrashing around in their bed, caught in a night terror. Mads had been gone for two days, and both nights since had played out exactly the same way. She stroked his forehead, murmuring comforting words in his ear while hugging him to her. He was overly warm and drenched in sweat, shouting out his pain and anger as he remained mostly asleep. When he calmed, she slid from beneath the covers and headed to her large closet.
She looked back, silently praying that he remained undisturbed as she moved into the closet and slid the door closed. Her fingertips found the switch, and light flooded the space. She carefully reached for the big shoebox on one of the shelves in the very back and tucked it under her arm. She grabbed a pair of old faded jeans and an even older black camisole with her free hand. She was careful to flip off the light switch before sliding the door open and stepping out into the dark bedroom.
She closed the door to the bathroom, deliberately leaving the light off as she stripped off her nightgown. She was restless, sleep eluding her no matter how tired she was. As she slipped into the jeans, her mind returned to the worst years of her life. Brandon’s face flashed in her mind, and she recalled her reckless nature in the months just after he died. She had been a newly minted demon hunter who wasn’t just good, she had been superior.
Her rage and despair at Mads’s abduction no longer left her feeling powerless. Tagas was in control of the situation, and for that she was truly thankful. She trusted him completely, but she felt a mother’s desperate urge to do something besides wait around for a bit of good news. She would relentlessly track down a demon in one of the best parts of L.A., who she knew had minor dealings with Pyro and Cascadia. She would slash off his head, sending a clear message to them that she and Patrick were far from beaten. She laced up her weathered, black stiletto boots with a grim smile. This night wasn’t about crying her eyes raw, listening to her husband express his grief in his troubled sleep. This night was all about the hunt, and she would take special pleasure in it.
****
Elle remained hidden safely in the bushes outside the lavish Beverly Hills house, her eyes trained on the gray Mercedes as it pulled up in the driveway. The headlights went off, and the figure emerging from the car was shadowed in the darkness. Her efforts had paid off—she had received the tipoff of his whereabouts from one of his scorned ex-lovers in one of the seedier bars she had visited.
She was on him before he could take two steps toward the house, leaping onto his back with the dagger to his throat. “Surprise, Balam.” She was disgusted at his heavy, hulking
frame and thinning crown of greasy black hair, wanting to wipe her hands on her jeans. “What women see in you, besides your money, I’ll never understand. Make one tricky move, and I’ll cut you.”
His breathing was labored. “I recognize your voice—Elle Connor Holt, the hunter, right? Move that knife away, and I’ll cut a deal with you.”
She gave a short bark of a laugh. “Sorry, nonnegotiable. The only thing I want from you is information about Pyro and Cascadia. Where are they now?”
He quickly bucked her off his back, and Elle landed on her back at his feet. His expression was feral as he tried to wrest the dagger from her clenched fist. She caught him on the chin with the sharp heel of her boot, and he went down. She assumed the superior position, standing over him with the sharp heel resting on his balls. She flipped the dagger, her eyes glinting dangerously.
“Balam, can you imagine spending your time on earth without your nuts?” She dug the heel in, and he groaned in pain. “That’s better—I want to hear your suffering. I’ll ask again, where are Pyro and Cascadia now?”
The old demon twisted in agony, his eyes wild. “I’m not telling you shit. Pyro is not one to mess around with. I’m no kind of snitch, especially when it concerns him.”
Elle felt a surge of frustrated rage. “We both know this is the end for you. I can make you very uncomfortable before I take off your head, but let’s avoid all that by you telling me everything I want to know. Where…is…my…kid?” She kicked him hard in the nuts, and he howled, his demonic face rippling beneath the human guise.
“Your brat is as good as dead, and so are you and the hybrid.”
She leaned down, slashing his chest through the leather overcoat. “That’s what I wanted to hear from you, some information about my daughter’s abduction. Where are they? Last chance…” Her smile was lethal as he shook his head, his jowls shaking. She shrugged. “Have it your way, then.”
He screamed in terror as she grabbed a handful of his hair and began sawing the blade across his fat throat. It took her several long moments as he fought, but she severed his head completely from his body. Hell’s heat consumed the body quickly, leaving only a huge pile of ash.
Elle wiped her hands on her jeans, giving the remains one last, satisfied look before she headed down to her SUV parked at the end of the block. She was disappointed with the lack of information Balam had given her, but the demon’s death would send a clear message to Pyro and Cascadia.
****
Patrick brooded in the darkness as he leaned back into the chair he had positioned to face the condo’s front door. He was fighting sleep but was determined to have it out with Elle about her early morning disappearance, and he wasn’t going to drift off to sleep without a discussion about the whys. Discussion? I’m too pissed off to be civil…
Long moments passed before he heard the key grate in the lock and the front door slowly opened. Elle came through the door and softly closed it behind her. He stood up deliberately, reaching over to flip on a lamp on one of the side tables. He stood there as their eyes met across the room, suddenly feeling less confrontational and more ridiculous in his pajamas, his hair a ruffled mess. Seeing her guilty expression spurred him on in a flash of anger.
“What the hell?” he snapped. “Baby, it’s three a.m., and you’re sneaking in like you’ve been screwing someone else all night. But I know you better than that. You weren’t cheating, so where were you?”
Elle slipped off her leather jacket and tossed it on the arm of the sofa. She avoided his gaze as she cleared her throat. “Well, you know…”
Patrick’s jaw tensed. “No, I don’t know. What I do know is that the two of us settled into bed earlier, and I woke up alone. You’ll have to clue me in.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I hate that tone of voice, Patrick. Honestly, I was tired of not doing a damn thing about my missing daughter, and I went out to handle things my way.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I suspected one of Pyro’s underworld associates, Balam, knew something. I hunted him without a second thought and, when he refused to tell me a damn thing I didn’t already know, I cut off his head. One less demon on Earth is always a good thing.”
Patrick gritted his teeth, staring her down. “First, she’s our daughter, and it’s our problem together. You went demon hunting? Without me? You’re stirring a big pot of trouble, Elle. Mads is gone, and in doing reckless crap like this, you could be next.” He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. He chose his next words carefully, though he was burning with anger and, beneath that, fear. “We have always hunted as a family unit. We have each other’s backs, and our hunting together is sacrosanct.”
She heaved a deep sigh. “Tonight was a necessary exception. Any news will surely help Tagas and the other guardians find her soon.”
“Let them handle it until we’re called to be involved. Pyro is psychotic, and Cascadia is a monster. One misstep, and they will kill our baby. I won’t tolerate any more stunts like this that will only further endanger her and us.”
Elle moved closer to him, getting right in his face. “Did you just say ‘tolerate’?” Her expression was stony. “Stop trying to control me like you’re trying to control this situation. I’m your wife, not your servant. I don’t answer to you, Patrick. You think I don’t understand the danger we’re in? I do, better than you apparently think. I know what I’m doing, and I’ll do anything and everything to get Mads back.”
Patrick appeared unmoved by her bravado, and his gaze bored into hers. “Don’t try to make me out to be the bad guy in this. You’re the one who made the mistake. Dial back that attitude a little.”
Elle spun around, heading down the hallway to the bedroom. “Sleep on the sofa. I don’t want to see your face right now.”
Patrick followed her and stopped short abruptly when the door to their bedroom slammed shut in his face. He heard her muffled “Good night” and rolled his eyes, muttering a curse under his breath. The door opened, and his heart melted at the tears staining her cheeks. She tossed a blanket and pillow at his feet before the door closed again firmly.
He snatched them up and mentally prepared himself for a long, frustrating, uncomfortable night.
****
Tagas tossed the last of the holy books to the side. He’d been reading them for the better part of three hours, fervently searching for a way to deal with Pyro and Cascadia. There were a multitude of ways to handle the situation, but all of them would only further endanger the baby. He stood, switching off the lamp on the desk. When all else failed, he always turned to meditation, and this night would be no different.
He reached in one of the kitchen cabinets, pulling out his thick candles and a box of matches. He set them up on the counter, lighting each one. He took a seat at the small table, his mind already engaged in reflective, reverent thought. He whispered small prayers as the candlelight flickered in the darkness.
His thoughts turned to the past, images of a time long gone surfacing. A face flashed clearly in his memory, with short blonde hair and blue eyes. He realized that he was seeing his hunter, Ruby Gilmore, as she had been in her prime. He hadn’t seen her in decades, yet her image remained.
In his mind’s eye, the next image he saw was the holy amulet he had given to her for safekeeping. He recalled every detail of it, focusing on the stone. He felt God was speaking to him, but he couldn’t make sense of the message. “I don’t understand…” he murmured.
A clear picture of an open portal appeared his mind, and he realized that it was one of the prophetic doorways to Hell. Understanding dawned in him, and his spirits lifted. The amulet he had entrusted to Ruby had to be the key. The stone had drawn his attention because the color held special significance. He knew little about its origins, recalling only that the amulet was an important piece of prophecy, created in the Heavens for one special angel, years before even Tagas was created.
He opened his eyes, already planning his next move. He had a gut feeling about which special angel the amu
let was meant for. His urgent task was now to find Ruby Gilmore.
****
Elle parked her SUV in her parking place in the small driveway next to the condo. Patrick’s red Jeep was still there, and her stomach dropped. It had been as long a day as the night before. The last thing she had wanted, after the fight with Patrick, was to start the morning with another one. She showered and crept out the front door well before seven a.m., leaving him a quick note on the kitchen counter as he slept. She spent the day with her mom, struggling to come up with enough words to have a conversation, while pushing her lunch around on her plate. Her mother wasn’t the most sensitive, intuitive person, focusing their talk mainly on herself and what a rotten cards life had dealt her. Elle hastily explained Madison’s absence with a cold and a promise that she would bring her next time. Her mom wasn’t always distant and moody, especially if she hadn’t spent the night drinking herself senseless. She had been cheerful for a welcome change, but Elle found herself fading in and out, far too involved with worrying about the baby.
She locked the SUV with the remote and headed down the brightly flowered path to the front door of her condo. She let herself in, noting that all the blinds were closed and several scented pillar candles were lit on the kitchen counter. She and Patrick loved to sleep in late, but it was already near dusk at four thirty in the afternoon. Maybe he’s meditating…?
As she dropped her handbag on the sofa, she noticed the trail of red rose petals extending from the living room down the hallway. Her lips tugged upward in a small smile, and she slowly followed the trail without calling out to Patrick. A path of petals went into the bathroom, another leading into the bedroom. She chose the bathroom, opening the door to find a full bubble bath waiting. More candles flickered on the granite bathroom counter, the heavenly scent of clean linen wafting around the room.
In their reflection, Patrick came to stand behind her, wearing his plush black robe without a thing on beneath. Their eyes met in the mirror as he wrapped a leanly muscled arm around her neck, kissing her ear softly. She leaned back into him, closing her eyes. “I think you overreacted last night, but I do accept your uniquely creative apology.”