Fury of the Demon

“Poor kid. He’s in a bad spot.”

I let out a soft sigh. “I’m not sure yet, but I think he may be my cousin.”

Bryce stared at me for a moment then gave a sharp nod. “Kara, we’ll get him back.”

His voice held such conviction that I found myself wondering about his own family. What co

Mzatal strode into the kitchen, his stance taut like a cat ready to spring. “Some, and the remainder now.” His eyes locked on Bryce. “Where is Angela Palatino?”

Bryce stood firm though I wouldn’t have blamed him one bit if he’d retreated a step. “On the Farouche plantation. About seventy miles from here.”

“I will go for her,” Mzatal stated. “I require transportation.”

“You can’t just go for her!” I blurted out.

He turned his gaze on me, darkly intense and questioning.

“She’s a hostage,” I explained, fully aware that he wouldn’t know the Earth/human dynamics. “That means they’ll kill her before you get to her.”

“She’s right,” Bryce said. “I know the layout and operations of everything on the plantation.” He lifted his chin, impressing the hell out of me that he could do so in the face of Mzatal’s intensity. “Here’s the deal. If I was still Farouche’s man, as soon as I got wind that you were on or near the property, I’d hold a gun to the woman’s head, get on the PA and tell you to retreat or I put a bullet in her skull.” He shifted his weight and looked away, and I knew it was shame in the knowledge he’d have done exactly that. “Not to mention there’ll be plenty of armed men to take shots at you.”

“The projectiles are of little concern when I am prepared,” Mzatal stated. He paused and his aura flared like heat from an oven. “Yet, the other perspective is valid.” Anger born of frustration dropped his voice to quiet menace.

“We need a solid plan, Boss,” I said gently. “We’ll come up with a way to get her out of there.”

Mzatal gave a stiff nod, turned and swept out of the house. I watched him go, extended to him, and felt his answering touch. Inaction killed him. I knew that feeling all too well.

“Holy Christ, I’m glad I’m not his enemy,” Bryce breathed.

I snorted. “No shit.”

Chapter 30

Bryce and I headed into the living room. He sank into the chair, face once again in its practiced tough-guy mask, while I flopped onto the sofa, and practiced looking worn out. I found it surprisingly easy to do so. Maybe because I’d been going hard all day on only four hours of sleep?

I snorted. Nah. Too easy. That can’t possibly be it!

My phone rang, and apparently Santa thought I’d been a good girl this year because my phone was in my pocket instead of a million miles away, like in the kitchen or on the coffee table. I pulled it out and smiled at the caller ID. “Hi, Aunt Tessa. You get in to Aspen all right?”

“Hello, sweetling,” Tessa said, voice perky and light. “We had a little confusion with the rental, but finally got it all straightened out. We only made it to the ski lodge a few minutes ago. The air up here is amazing!”

A few more knots of tension unwound. “That’s good to hear. What lodge are you staying at?”

“Snowy Snake Ski Lodge. Ten thousand feet elevation!” She laughed. “I was ready to take a nap after climbing the stairs. The rooms are absolutely lovely. Everything going all right down there with you?”

The lilt of her happy chatter wound around me like a hug. “Everything’s going great,” I lied. No way was I going to put the slightest dent in her good mood, and up in the mountains was a nice, safe place for her. “Careful with the altitude. Drink lots of water and take naps.”

“I’m chugging a bottle down right now. Oh, wait, I’m getting the signal that we’re heading to di

I smiled. “Do that. And don’t let the bears eat you.”

“I’ll eat them first.”

Laughing, I made my goodbyes and hung up. Another member of my posse safe and sound. I liked that. Yet my thoughts now circled around the issue of Idris’s mother and how to get her to safety. As much as I wanted to see Mzatal storm Farouche’s plantation/compound and reduce it to smoking rubble, it simply wasn’t a feasible plan. And the same went for any other infiltration or attack. First sign of trouble, and a gun would go to Angela Palatino’s head.

Which meant that first we had to get her to safety, and then Mzatal could wring Idris’s location from Farouche’s scummy mind.

Zack could do it, the thought whispered. While on Earth, Eilahn and Steeev had limited ability to travel, or teleport, or whatever the hell the demons called it, and certainly couldn’t do so with a human in tow, but Zack was demahnk and had none of those disadvantages. However, the warehouse incident along with our “discussion” regarding his loyalty had made it painfully clear that, for reasons I had yet to fathom, his demonic assistance was by no means a sure thing. I figured it was a heads-or-tails chance he’d agree to help, but if I never asked, I wouldn’t even have those odds. I yawned and glanced at the clock on the wall. Six p.m. Zack would be home soon. I’d pounce on him then.

The second hand ticked its way around the clock face. Home. That meant something. I was sure of it. I dragged my gaze away from the hypnotic movement of the second hand, sat up and rolled my neck on my shoulders. The feline curled at the end of the sofa lifted her head and growled at me, low and throbbing and laden with menace.

I turned a feral smile on the creature as she stood, bristling. Her growl deepened, and she swiped bared claws toward me—

“Kara! Watch out!” Bryce scooped the cat up and away from me, and I jerked, blinked. “Did she get you?” His concerned gaze tracked over me in a search for claw marks as he expertly cradled her.

Kara? Oh, right. Of course I was Kara. “No, I’m good,” I said, though I checked my arm for blood just to be sure. “Thanks for the save, though.”

Fuzzykins abruptly ceased her growl, shifted to bump her head against Bryce’s chin. He gave a low chuckle and scratched behind her ears. “You silly girl,” he murmured, then glanced to me. “Damn, she really does hate you. I thought she was about to rip your face off.” He shook his head, shifted the cat in his arms then sat again and settled her on his lap. “She seems okay now though,” he said, regarding Fuzzykins with a puzzled frown, then he rolled his eyes as she looked in my direction and gave a bored hiss before snuggling into his lap with a loud purr. “Or not.”

I stuck my tongue out at Fuzzykins. Weird cat. I couldn’t think of anything I’d done to make her go off on me like that. “So, wow, Paul’s pretty amazing,” I said, shifting to a more comfortable subject. “Getting that airport vid was a huge break for us.”

Bryce smiled as he stroked the cat. “He’s a good kid. Got through to me.” His smile faded, and he blew out his breath. “I was the one who kidnapped him in Albuquerque. So

I angled my head. “How’d you go from kidnapper to taking such good care of him?”

“I got assigned to him twenty-four/seven when we first brought him in,” Bryce said, then chuckled softly. “He grew on me. Farouche saw we had a good rapport, and, since he wanted to keep Paul happy and productive, he put me on as his permanent bodyguard and advocate.”

I smiled. “You two really care for each other. I mean, in a bromance sort of way.”

“Yeah. I think we’re family,” he replied with no trace of embarrassment.

“Does anyone miss him back home?”

He winced, then shook his head. “No.”

“What’s the deal there?” Please please, I thought almost desperately, please don’t tell me you killed them.