Wicked Road to Hell Page 11

  Kaden nodded. “The demon Samael is linked to Francesca. I tapped into their bond. The images aren’t clear and sometimes they’re not quite right. Like, he might not be there right now. What I just sensed could be days old.”

  “None of this means squat if we can’t find Samael.” Ransome eyed the teen. “You nail down a location while you were trespassing in her brain?”

  Kaden shook his head. “No.” He glanced at Ana. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right—” Her words were cut off as the door to the office swung open, letting in loud music, voices, and the general party atmosphere from below.

  “No worries, kids. I know where the demon is.” Cale strode into the room, crossed to the sidebar, and eyed the selection of bottles on the wall. “You got any scotch?” He asked the werewolf. “I prefer single malt, but at the moment anything will do.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Ransome growled as he took a step toward the newcomer.

  “He’s one of us,” Declan answered. “A Seraph warrior.”

  The wolf glared at him and nodded. “Help yourself, the glasses are below.”

  Cale grabbed the bottle. “I’ve no time for social grace tonight and do apologize, for I won’t be in need of a glass.”

  Ana saw the flash of anger that crossed Ransome’s face. She turned to Cale. “You said you knew where the demon lord is? Care to elaborate?”

  The Seraph took a long swig from the bottle and then set it back down. His gaze swept over all of them. Ana had a bad feeling she wasn’t going to like his answer.

  He nodded toward the door. “He’s downstairs.”

  Chapter 12

  “Son of a mother—” Declan stared at the Seraph in surprise. “Samael is here?” he repeated.

  Cale nodded once more and cocked his head toward the door. “I followed him in not more than five minutes ago.”

  “You followed him in and did nothing?” Declan was incensed.

  Cale smiled at the sorcerer though the tone of his voice was frosty. “You forget to whom you are speaking, O’Hara. I’m not stupid and the demon lord is not alone.”

  “Well what are we waiting for?” Nico’s voice erupted from the other side of the room. “Let’s get go get him. Finish this.”

  “Hold on a second. I’ll not have my establishment leveled because you want to go ape-shit and attack without thought.” Ransome spoke up before turning to Cale. “What the hell is he doing down there?”

  “Shots at the bar.” Cale shrugged his shoulders. “It seems Samael enjoys his tequila almost as much as I like my scotch.”

  “I don’t understand. We should have had some warning. How could we not feel him? Not know he was nearby?” Ana asked. It was obvious she didn’t trust Cale.

  “That is strange.” Declan watched the Seraph closely. He, too, was wondering the same things. “Did he leave his chaos ring at home?”

  Cale’s eyes narrowed, but his voice remained neutral. “He’s a demon lord. If he wants to travel incognito, he will.” Cale smiled. “I do it all the time.”

  “We need to get Kaden to safety.” Ana flew to the teen’s side. “Is there another way out of here?”

  Ransome nodded. “My place, the loft above the club.” He pointed toward the door he’d arrived from earlier. “It’s through there.”

  Ana looked at Declan. The fear he saw in her eyes touched him deeply. If he could never see that look on her face again he’d be a happy man.

  “We can’t let Samael get to him,” Ana whispered.

  Declan walked to her and stared down into eyes. “Nothing will happen to the boy.” She was trembling. Her face, so pale already, looked ashen. Ana DeLacrux was a fearless, tough operative. To see her in such a vulnerable state did something to his insides. It twisted them into all kinds of want and need and filled him with a desire to protect what was his.

  His hand grazed the coolness of her cheeks. She was his. Ana might not know it yet but as he stood there in front of her, he made a vow to make her realize the absolute truth. One day.

  Her eyes deepened into liquid navy and glistened like glass. She moved her head slightly, as if she wanted to rest her cheek in his palm but then jerked back and stepped away.

  The moment was gone.

  No matter. He’d get it back if it took him until the end of eternity, but first things first.

  “Take Kaden and the girl. Get them to the mansion and we’ll be along shortly.” Declan glanced at Nico. “You go with Ana. Make sure they get there safely.” He then nodded to the others. “I’m feeling thirsty, boys. I think it’s about time Ransome buys us a round.”

  His gaze settled onto Kaden. “You listen to Ana. This isn’t a game.” The boy nodded. He knew how serious the situation was.

  Ana pushed Francesca toward the door and then her eyes met his once more. She raised her chin. “Take care of yourself, O’Hara.” She opened her mouth once more, but then closed it before speaking. He watched as she slipped through the door, Francesca and Kaden ahead of her.

  Nico paused before following her through. “I expect to see you sons of bitches later.”

  The door closed behind the jaguar warrior and Declan exhaled. “All right, let’s do this.” He pulled up the power that lay inside his chest. It thrummed against the walls of his heart and pushed its way out. His hands were held loose at his side, languid almost, but the utter carelessness of their posture was a lie. Declan O’Hara was ready to wage war and as he stepped out of the office into the heated air of the club, he smiled.

  It was about time. He felt as if he’d been standing still for the past few weeks.

  The three of them stood above the mezzanine and their gaze swept the now-full room below. The band was gearing up for another set and as the house lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into a noisy welcome back, three men at the bar grabbed Declan’s attention.

  He focused and ripped back the layers of reality that clung to them. It was difficult to see past the veil but after several moments their true countenance was revealed.

  The tall man in the center was Samael. Him Declan knew on sight. As the demon lord of chaos, the bastard was well-known throughout the underworld and when Declan had been imprisoned below, deep within the bowels of Hell, he’d seen him on several occasions.

  His features were hidden, deep in shadow, but Declan felt the intensity of his stare as Samael glanced upward. He held a shot glass aloft, tossed back the liquid, and then turned to the bartender. Sarah dutifully filled the glass before administering the same care to the other two men.

  They were not demon lords, rather bodyguards, but that didn’t lessen the threat any.

  Declan took a step down. “You think there’s a chance the bastard is drunk? ’Cause I’m thinking that wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

  Cale snorted. “Not likely.”

  “Not that it matters,” Declan answered as he cleared the last stair. He flexed his hands, reveled in the energy that sizzled along his limbs.

  Ransome slipped between the two of them. “I want those three goons out of my place.” He glared at Declan. “And if anything gets broken I’m holding you totally fucking responsible.”

  “Shit, Ransome. That’s a tall order. When’s the last time you kicked someone’s ass without anything getting broken?” Declan asked.

  The werewolf growled and nodded toward the bar. “Ladies first,” he said. Declan didn’t bother to answer. His mind shifted gears and he concentrated on the task at hand.

  The bar was full of people. All sorts of beings, human, shifter, vampire, and aside from the three at the bar, he caught the unmistakable scent of demon. He let his gaze run over the heaving crowd on the dance floor. Bodies were entwined, limbs pressed against secret places as they swayed to the hypnotic beat of the music. There were several demons in the midst, but they seemed oblivious to the fact that one of their own, a demon lord no less, was present.

  “You think it’s a trap?” he said to Cale as the tall warrior stepped beside him. A b
londe danced by and tried to grab the Seraph’s hand, but Cale smiled and let her pass.

  “I think that it’s unusual for a demon lord to come topside and visit a bar inhabited by Seraph.” Cale’s voice hardened. “If he wanted to snatch the boy he’d have gone for it, not walked in here like a tourist.” Cale frowned. “There’s a reason behind his actions.”

  “Let’s see what the bastard wants.” Declan pushed forward. He smelled the darkness that surrounded Samael. It was sweet, sickly sweet, and he swallowed as it caressed his flesh. Like a drug, the dark side called to him constantly and it was a struggle to resist the pull.

  Working for the Seraph did nothing to alleviate the need that gnawed at him. No one knew of the darkness he’d fed from when he’d been imprisoned in the Hell realm, not even Bill. Surely if the elf had known, he’d never have offered him asylum.

  Declan clenched his teeth together. He needed to be strong for Ana and Kaden.

  He led the way, the three of them sliding through the crowd with ease. His eyes never left Samael, and as they came abreast of the demon lord, he nodded. A wicked smile broke upon Declan’s face, and the two demons flanking Samael, snarled at his audacity. They were from a class of lower demon, grunts really, and that surprised Declan.

  The demon lord wore dark glasses, large aviator frames that hid what Declan knew were freaky-ass eyes. They would have outed him immediately. Samael was tall, his powerful frame clothed in the requisite denim and leather. His closely cropped hair was jet black and the tattoo along the side of his neck glistened underneath the lights from the bar.

  Declan eyed it warily. The dragon tattoo was no ordinary etching. It was alive and could be commanded at will. Such was the power of a demon lord.

  “Gentlemen.” Samael’s voice was deep. He smiled. “Can I buy you boys a drink? Unfortunately, there’s no more tequila. I’ve tapped out their supply.”

  Declan had no time for games. “Cut the crap, Sammy. We’re not drinking buddies. What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Samael laughed softly. Declan wasn’t fooled. He knew the demon lord was a stickler for respect and he’d just dissed him. Big-time. “Always so abrasive, sorcerer. I see you haven’t changed much since last I saw you.” He leaned forward. “On your knees, I think it was. Or between Lilith’s legs?” He shrugged. “I can’t remember.”

  Declan’s fists clenched and he took a step forward, but Cale’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Take care,” the Seraph whispered. “Don’t let him bait you.”

  Declan glared at the demon, his hands tingling as the darkness inside began to pulsate, feeding from the energy that sizzled around them. He took a moment. Pushed it back. He needed to keep a clear head.

  “Look, can we take this outside?” Ransome took a step forward. “Seriously, guys, I’d like to keep the Lounge in one piece if at all possible.”

  Samael glanced at the wolf. “What makes you think things will get messy?”

  Ransome growled. His skin blurred momentarily and the wolf shifted beneath.

  “Oh, it’s gonna get messy,” Ransome retorted. “Trust me.”

  Samael ignored the wolf and turned his attention to Cale. “It’s been a long time, brother.”

  Brother? An odd word choice.

  Declan’s eyes narrowed as he studied the Seraph. The warrior looked relaxed, yet a muscle that flickered across his jaw told a different story altogether.

  “Several centuries at least.” Cale nodded toward Sarah. “A double shot of scotch, neat.”

  “You still wiping the asses of the Seraphim?” Samael grinned. “What of Cracker? Is he still playing human with his beloved jaguar warriors?”

  Declan’s eyes widened. Son of a bitch. He’d always known Cracker was different.

  Cale ignored the question, grabbed his drink from the bartender, and knocked it back. He waited for a refill and then spoke, his voice falling in layers. The words were in a foreign tongue, ancient speak that Declan had only heard the Seraphim use before.

  The whole thing was weird and had him looking at both Cale and Samael in a new light. The two continued to converse, and Ransome made a sound of disgust.

  “What the hell’s going on?” the wolf asked darkly.

  Impatience flared inside him and Declan flexed his fingers, letting a ripple of energy fly. The two goons on either side of Samael straightened and he caught sight of their serrated teeth as they turned their attention to him.

  “Look, this isn’t some fucking Boy Scout meeting. Why are you here, Samael?” Declan had learned the hard way that sometimes the direct approach was best. Even if it meant an ass kicking was in his immediate future.

  Samael turned from Cale and swept the dark glasses from his face as he gazed at Declan. His eyes swirled bloodred, their glow eerie in the dimly lit bar.

  “I’m looking for something, truth be told.”

  “No shit,” Declan answered. “Aren’t we all.”

  Samael’s eyes narrowed. “The problem being, it seems you have that which I seek.”

  Declan studied the demon closely. He was too calm.

  “What’s really going on, Samael?” Cale tossed his empty glass back on the bar. “We both know if you wanted your hands on the fifth mark, you’d have snagged him for yourself days ago.”

  Samael straightened and pushed away from the bar. He glanced at his companions and spoke tersely. “Leave us.”

  Declan watched in silence as the demons turned on their heel and disappeared into the crowd.

  “Is there someplace we can converse in private?” Samael asked as he slid the aviator glasses back into place. “This doesn’t concern you, wolf.”

  Ransome growled and took a step forward, his canines flashing white as he bared his teeth.

  “Think hard about your next move, shifter,” Samael taunted. His voice deepened as a whisper of power swept over them. “I won’t hesitate to cut you down.”

  Ransome’s body trembled with suppressed rage, but he held still as Declan stepped beside him. The sorcerer leaned over. “He’s not worth it, LaPierre.”

  Ransome’s lips pulled back into a feral grin as he sneered. “I’ll leave you to your privacy but I expect you gone from my place when I return.”

  Declan watched the tall wolf disappear into the crowd. Ransome was pissed but he’d get over it.

  He turned back to the demon. “Spill. What’s got your panties in a knot?” He glanced at Cale but the Seraph’s face was like stone—no emotion. Something was way off.

  Samael shook his head. “Ever the joker. One of these days your tongue will be the end of you.” He grabbed a bowl of beer nuts off the bar and shoved a handful into his mouth as his gaze swept the room. “They’re so unaware, these humans, so fragile,” he murmured. “I suppose it adds to their charm. However, it will not serve them well in the coming days.” Samael carefully set the bowl back onto the counter. “I had two of the seven marks in my possession.”

  Silence followed his words. Had? As in no longer?

  “Where are they?” Declan asked, his voice dangerously low. He let a few sparks of energy fly from his fingers as he took a step toward Samael. The power circling his gut burned with a harshness that set his teeth on edge.

  “I no longer have them.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Cale asked as he, too, stepped forward.

  Samael sat on the closest bar stool and grabbed another handful of nuts. He tossed a few into his mouth. “They are with Lilith.”

  Declan exploded as his anger took over. The air around them shimmered and the floor beneath their feet shook.

  “You handed off two innocent children to Lilith?” Un-fucking-believable.

  He snarled and raised his hands, ignoring the pain that lashed across them as the heat of his power erupted in a flash of red-hot energy. He would fucking pulverize the bastard.

  “You shall move back, sorcerer, or I will not be responsible for the lives of those around you.” The demon spoke calmly.

&nbs
p; Declan hissed. He knew Samael’s threat was real. Behind the bar, Sarah stood still and straight as a pen, though the terror in her eyes told the truth. She began to move, her arms awkward as they fumbled beneath the bar.

  She raised her hands slightly and Declan cursed. A gun was held tightly within her grip, the barrel aimed directly at her heart. All around them the noise got louder—the band, the voices—and the air was thicker, hotter, filled with a dark desire that he could taste. It was the taste of wanton abandon, and to the humans and otherworld alike, it was like candy.

  He glared at the demon. The fucker had definitely pulled out his chaos ring.

  Cale’s hand on his arm brought him back from the edge and Declan slowly let out a tortured breath as he regained control. “Hear him out,” Cale whispered.

  “No more games, Sammy.” Declan couldn’t resist one more taunt and glared at the bastard.

  Samael removed his glasses once more and hissed. “If you weren’t so valuable to me I’d take great pleasure in cutting your heart from your chest and feeding it to my pet.”

  Declan watched as the tattoo moved along the side of Samael’s neck. It shifted and for a moment was out of focus, until it settled once more into the bed of vibrant color that adorned the demon’s flesh.

  “What is that you want?” Cale asked.

  Samael set the bowl of nuts back onto the counter and then spoke. “My hands are tied. I can help no longer.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Declan was close to losing it. He hated games. “You’re talking in riddles. Why are you really here?”

  The demon lord stood and placed the aviators once more over his eyes. “I came to make a deal.”

  “Your deals are never what they seem, brother.” Cale’s words were so low Declan was barely able to catch them.

  “This one is quite simple. I’ll provide safe passage to the underworld and you”—he pointed to Declan—“will retrieve the children from Lilith’s clutches. Get them to safe haven.”

  “You’re full of shit,” Declan snarled. “Two nights ago you had a band of fucking ghouls on Ana’s doorstep and they were after Kaden. None of this is making sense.”