Wicked Road to Hell Page 8

  Shit. Ana grimaced as she was grabbed and yanked into the air once more. The woman yelled and tossed a deadly blade at her.

  Ana’s fingers gripped it hard and she bucked her body with all her might, twisting in the air like a gymnast. The demon grunted as she soared overhead. She screamed and landed, arms outstretched, the blade cleanly slicing through the bastard’s head.

  A gurgling sound escaped its mouth and then the head toppled forward. Ana sidestepped the carcass and stumbled. Her eyes were unfocused and she felt dizzy.

  The door to the bedroom crashed open and she swung around, pushing a mess of long auburn waves behind her shoulder.

  Now they decide to show. She hissed at them, pissed off. “Your nose is defective, wolf. Do you want to explain to me how in the hell you didn’t smell that?” She pointed to the demon corpse.

  Declan was at her side in an instant, his hand reaching for her. She yanked away. “Don’t touch me.” The rage and anxiety she felt wasn’t rational. This she knew, and at the moment she didn’t trust herself.

  Ransome arched a brow. “Sorry, the demon must have been charmed. I still can’t smell him.” The wolf glanced around. “So where is she?”

  Ana turned abruptly.

  The space where the girl had been was empty.

  A strangled sound fell from Ana’s lips and she cursed.

  “No worries.” Ransome was near the window. He turned back to the two of them. “Her scent I can follow easily. I’ll meet you back at the Lounge.” He stripped the clothes from his body, shifted into his animal form, and jumped through the window.

  Ana’s body trembled. “I’ll see you there,” she said hoarsely, wincing as another wave of hunger swept over her.

  “Ana, you’re hurt. Let me help you.”

  Her fangs broke skin once more. Declan’s scent was much too enticing. She averted her face. “Back off, O’Hara.” She needed to be away from him. Like yesterday.

  Ana slid past the sorcerer before he could react and jumped through the window that Ransome had cleared only seconds before. She landed, hard, and yelped as the jarring motion sent pain ripping through her shoulder.

  She glanced up and saw Declan’s silhouette. The hunger inside was unbearable. Ana turned and disappeared into the darkness.

  She needed to feed, and tonight bagged blood wasn’t gonna cut it.

  Chapter 9

  It was late, again, and nearing four in the morning when he heard Ana’s footfalls. Declan tempered his anger as he sat in the darkened kitchen of the DeLacrux mansion. He’d been on edge all evening, had patrolled the perimeter of the lot several times. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was out there. Watching. Waiting.

  His long limbs were tense, which pissed him off. He wanted to appear relaxed, as if he didn’t give a flying fuck that the vampire had blown them off and disappeared for hours. It was hard. His fists were clenched tight, his back ramrod-straight.

  The night had been a total bust and it sure as hell hadn’t gone as planned. The necromancer had been of no use. She’d been half dazed from her tussle with the demon and subsequent fall from the balcony. Ransome had agreed to keep her until they could better interrogate her but that probably wouldn’t be until tomorrow.

  Nico had finally shown up at the Voodoo Lounge and the news wasn’t good. His priestess had agreed to tap into the darkness and see what she could find out. She’d gone into a trance and come up with only one word. Apocalypse. She’d then gone into convulsions and Nico had barely managed to get the woman to the hospital.

  She’d died shortly thereafter.

  The jaguar warrior had left but Declan waited for the vampire. For hours. Like a wet-behind-the-ears schoolboy. The bartender Sarah had started passing him free drinks just so he’d get drunk and leave. It hadn’t worked, though eventually he’d given up.

  He heard Ana pause just beyond the doorway and then she swept into the kitchen with the assured grace of someone very much in control.

  He eyed her in silence as she crossed to the sink and grabbed a sorry-looking excuse of a plant off the windowsill. Carefully she ran some water over it and then set it back in place. She turned around and met his gaze full-on.

  Light shone in through the window, a soft glow from the security lamp in the backyard. It left half of her features in shadow but the fullness of her lips beckoned and his body reacted instantly. He felt the familiar ache inside, the one filled with need and want, and wished like hell it would go away.

  He bit back the shitload of anger that was buried inside him and instead leaned back in his chair, propping his arms behind his head.

  She smelled of rain, and he noticed the damp glitters of drops that glistened amongst the tangled hair that fell over her shoulder. She’d always hated the rain.

  “Where’ve you been?” the words fell rapidly off his tongue but he didn’t care.

  “I had to feed.” Her answer was simple, honest.

  An image of her mouth pressed against some random man’s neck flashed across his mind, and his face tightened in anger. “For the last eight hours? That’s one hell of an appetite. I thought you were into bagged blood these days.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not always enough.”

  “No, I guess not.” He glared at her.

  “Why don’t you spill what’s really on your mind and get on with it.”

  “You blew off an important interrogation,” he snapped. Declan’s fuse was burning fast and he kicked the chair back as he rose to his feet. It skidded across the floor and banged into the pantry.

  Ana snorted, not backing down as he took a step closer to her. “What? You and LaPierre couldn’t handle that skinny piece of ass? Are you kidding me?”

  “You said you would meet us back at the Lounge.” His tone was harsh and he took the last step until he was inches from her. Declan stared down into eyes that shimmered like glass. He saw his reflection deep within their depths. He looked like a man on edge, about to lose it.

  Ana hissed and thumped him in the chest. “Give me some space, O’Hara.”

  He didn’t budge but continued to glare at her, hating the way she got under his skin. He fucking wished she didn’t smell so damn good, either.

  “What is it that you really want to say, Declan? Because I sure as hell don’t think you give a shit one way or another whether I was there to interrogate some bony-ass redhead.”

  She didn’t get it.

  His fingers trembled at his side and vibrations ran along the floor as he tried to temper his anger.

  “There is a fucking demon lord gunning for your ass in case you’ve forgotten.” Her eyes widened slightly. “And don’t think for one minute you have a chance in hell against someone like Samael. He’s ruthless, cunning, and stronger than anything you’ve come up against.” He lowered his voice and whispered, “He’s nothing like that piece of crap you dealt with at the necromancer’s.”

  Ana opened her mouth to speak but then closed her lips tight. He sensed her mind at work, saw the way her eyes fell as she averted her gaze.

  Maybe she was finally getting it.

  “I won’t let you pull a dumb-ass move and get yourself hurt, or worse.”

  Ana moistened her lips and exhaled a ragged breath. “I’ve been taking care of myself for the last three hundred years, Declan.” She shook her head. “I’ve never had to rely on anyone.”

  “Trust me,” he retorted as he backed away, “you meet that son of a bitch face-to-face, you’re gonna want all the help you can get.” Declan grabbed the chair from beside the pantry and thrust it back under the table. “I should know. He’s no different than Lilith, and I held up her whipping post for nearly six months.”

  Declan strode from the room and headed toward the parlor. He’d found a half-decent blanket the night before and he tossed his long frame onto the short, uncomfortable settee. It wasn’t his first choice; however, it was all there was. The habitable rooms were taken and the others were rank with mildew and age.

/>   He groaned as he shifted his body and tried to get comfortable. His thoughts turned to Kaden and he grimaced. The boy’s future was not a sure thing. He’d done some research. The mark of seven was legendary. They were both coveted and feared. If fear won out, the Seraphim would have them destroyed. If the demon underworld managed to get their hands on all seven, then who the hell knew what kind of weapon they’d control.

  Declan sighed, closed his eyes, and tried to find some sort of peace. He was nearly there, too, but something woke him; a noise, a hint of energy in the air. Instantly he was on alert.

  Someone was in the foyer.

  The squeak of the doorknob turning echoed into the silence. Did she actually think he’d let her leave again?

  Declan was up in a flash, his anger carrying him forward as he stomped into the foyer like a deranged person. But it wasn’t Ana who stood there, frozen with the door half open. It was Kaden.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he snapped.

  The teenager jumped at his words and Declan felt another tingle of energy charge the air as the boy turned to face him. He was dressed for outside with jeans, long-sleeved sweater, and a warm vest.

  “I need to get out. I’m going crazy in here.”

  Yeah, join the fucking club.

  “You guys won’t let me leave or go anywhere. I’ve been stuck in this dump for days.” Kaden shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and lifted his chin in a defiant manner. “All I do is sit on my ass and think. I don’t wanna think about things anymore. I don’t want to remember Claire or what my life was like. I’m done with that.” He turned back toward the door. “I need to breathe before I freak out.”

  “You’re not going out there. ” Declan took a step forward as Kaden tensed. “Alone.” Every inch of his body protested. It had been days since he’d had proper rest. He might be one of the Seraph now but he was by no means like the rest of them. Some were of angelic origins, some otherworld, and others like Cale were a complete mystery.

  Declan, on the other hand, still needed shuteye occasionally.

  “Whatever,” Kaden muttered. He yanked on the door and left it wide open as he disappeared. Declan glanced back at the settee and sighed before following the teen into the early-morning gloom.

  It was quiet, eerily so. Declan stopped beside the teenager, his gaze sweeping the entire perimeter. Endless fog slithered along the paved road in front of the house, twisting like ribbons of smoke against the protection ward that lined the entire property.

  The damp was biting and his breath hung in the air for a few seconds before disappearing into nothingness. In the distance an owl hooted.

  Kaden walked to the edge of the property and leaned against the wrought-iron fence.

  “I’ve always wanted to come to New Orleans,” the teen murmured. “So much history here.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Too bad I haven’t had a chance to really see any of it.”

  Declan opened the gate. “Let’s take a walk.”

  He felt the pop of energy in his protection charm as he slipped through and waited while Kaden did the same. He’d woven their signatures deep into the spell. The protection ward only allowed those Declan wished to enter or leave.

  The two of them walked for several moments in silence, Kaden having no trouble matching his strides to Declan’s long gait. There was no one out. Not one trace of otherworld, but Declan knew that meant shit. He constantly scanned the area for any anomalies. A demon could appear from nowhere in an instant and if something happened to Kaden, it would totally be on him.

  He probably should have stayed back at the house and yet—he glanced at Kaden—he felt sorry for the kid.

  As it was, Kaden gravitated toward the cemetery. Figures. The two of them stopped just outside the wall. Declan sensed the spirits that wandered just beyond and looked at the teenager.

  “Do you feel them?” he asked quietly.

  The boy shifted his feet but kept his gaze focused in front of them. “I know there’s something there. I can feel energy.” He looked at Declan. “Some of it feels sad but most of it feels angry.” He looked away again. “Are they spirits?”

  Declan nodded. “Souls left behind for various reasons. Some have been here for centuries.” He paused for a second. “How have you dealt with your magick? Who has been your teacher?”

  “Myself.”

  His answer surprised Declan. “But the charms you wove, the protection wards I found were intricate. Well developed. Are you telling me you learned all that on your own?”

  Kaden glanced at him as if he had two heads. “Dude, there’s this thing called the Internet? You can freaking learn anything you want.”

  Declan didn’t quite know what to say to that.

  Kaden started forward and he was left to follow behind. They slid between the darkened rows, the air around them heavy with early-morning freshness. It was damp, cold, but the teenager seemed impervious to it.

  He watched the boy as they slipped farther inside the cemetery. Kaden had never been here before and yet he showed no fear. He walked with confidence but paid attention. The boy was smart—had leadership qualities. From what Declan could tell, he’d mastered skills that took many sorcerers years to accomplish. With tutors.

  Shit, the mark of seven. Declan wished he knew which way Kaden’s tendencies were going to swing.

  A crow appeared overhead, its nasty cry cutting through the silence with the subtlety of a jackhammer. Declan watched as it flapped its wings and settled upon a large mausoleum. The DeLacrux mausoleum.

  “Hey, this is Ana’s family, isn’t it?”

  Declan nodded. He climbed the steps once more but this time took a few minutes to study the building. It was impressive and by the looks of it, one of the oldest in the cemetery. He crossed to the large double doors. There were names etched along the side but it was the last one that caught his attention. Jean-Charles DeLacrux.

  His gut tightened. Who the hell was this guy? Frustration rifled through him and the energy that sat at the tips of his fingers burned hot. He’d thought at first maybe a lover, and that was bad enough. Hell, the thought of Ana with anyone else drove him fucking crazy. When they’d worked together at PATU and she’d carried on an affair with Diego that lasted several years, they’d been some of the hardest he’d endured.

  But what if this stranger was in fact tied to her on a level that transcended that? What if the dude was her mate? Her husband? And if so, where the hell was he?

  He turned abruptly and swore.

  Kaden was gone.

  Overhead the crow cawed loudly as if to say, Dumb ass. It continued to screech at Declan as he started down the steps. His hand shot out and a bolt of energy quieted the bird. Permanently.

  He didn’t bother shouting out the teen’s name. It wouldn’t do any good. It would just alert Kaden to his whereabouts, and anyone else lingering in the cemetery of their presence.

  Declan closed his eyes and concentrated. There was nothing there. Weird, but he couldn’t sense the boy. Where the hell was he?

  Alarmed, he took off, senses on high alert as he passed through the rows in silence. He knew Kaden couldn’t have gone far. Jean-Charles had distracted him for only a moment.

  As he trod deeper into the cemetery he noticed the fog along the ground was thicker. It clung to everything it touched, like ghostly tentacles. Unease tasted like crap and Declan stopped, listening carefully as he pulled up the power that lay inside him.

  It thrummed heavily in his chest. He moved forward once more, silently. Something was out there. He could feel it.

  The lost souls that wandered amongst the tombs followed in his wake. The wind picked up as he neared the far corner. Here the tombs were run-down, sadly neglected. Through the gloom he saw shadows moving and his power gathered, sensing an imminent threat.

  The shadows melted into gray, with beams of light emanating from deep inside. Crackles of energy shot out from them and he clenched his teeth as they rolle
d across his flesh.

  He knew them.

  Declan broke into a run, his body feeding on the juiced-up adrenaline that flooded his cells. He jumped over the toppled remains of a tombstone and as if the Red Sea had parted in front of him, the fog was suddenly gone. He paused, and the only sounds he heard clearly were his heart beating like crazy inside his chest and the tortured breaths that fell from his lips.

  Kaden was several feet away, legs spread, chin raised in defiance, staring ahead. A man sat upon the crumbled remains of a tomb, and it was he who drew Declan’s attention.

  The eyes that stared at Declan were not amused. The body was in repose, as if relaxed, yet the man was anything but. He was on the hunt, his power emanating off him in waves.

  Declan flexed his hands and cracked his neck. “Kaden, move away.” His tone brooked no argument, and surprisingly the teenager listened. Declan waited until Kaden was safely out of reach before he looked up and spoke.

  “I thought you were on assignment in Antarctica.”

  The intruder jumped down and flashed a smile. He was tall, his dark hair worn short, military-style, and he was dressed in faded denim, big-ass boots, with Mötley Crüe emblazoned on his black T-shirt. “I was.” He offered no further explanation.

  “Who are you?” Kaden stepped beside Declan.

  The stranger’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the teen. He rolled his shoulders, cocked his head to the side, and smiled. “I think the question is . . . who are you?” He paused and glanced at Declan. “I was in the area and thought I’d check on my old friend.”

  Declan’s fingers sizzled with energy and his limbs hung loose, at the ready. Yeah, because we’re so tight.

  “The name’s Cale,” he continued, though the smile left his face as he winked at Kaden. “I’m one of the Seraph.”

  Chapter 10

  “Kaden, you need to go home, now.”

  Declan moved in front of the boy and faced Cale with a snarl. “Who’d you manage to piss off? Seems to me coming after an operative already on assignment is grunt work.”