Born To Be Wilde: Immortal Vegas, Book 3 (18 page)

“Canaanites.” I knew my biblical history, and I knew my
History Channel: Aliens
too. “You’re talking fallen angels here.”

Brody made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a groan. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“They’ve also been known as djinn, demons, watchers—the list is endless. But the salient part is this. At the time of the Great Flood, the Canaanites were wiped out, along with a prodigious amount of humanity, if you believe historical accounts. The Council records paint the story a little differently, of course. Either way, the six djinn of Atlantis were banished.”

“Banished where?”

“Unknown.” Kreios shook his head. “That Viktor found them at all is…remarkable, and bears further study. We suspect he doesn’t know their precise location. He summoned them, and they responded to the pull of his magic but kept their dimension safely hidden. To reach them, he needs a mortal of sufficient strength and training—and with a connection to the children. He believes he has that with you. Where before you were an obstacle to his objective, now you are a path, Sara Wilde. His only path.”

“Well, that’s great, but we’ve got a problem. According to Viktor, bringing those kids out means bringing the demons in the world.”

“Perhaps.” Kreios smiled, and for the first time, I picked up on his peculiar energy. He was fairly buzzing, his eyes too bright, his manner edgy. “Alternatively, the children could come out possessed by the djinn. Alternatively, no one could come back, children or demon. The possibilities are endless.”

“Those all sound like really bad possibilities, for the record.” I thought about it. “How bad are these guys?”

“Did Viktor characterize them as bad?”

“Viktor worked with the Nazis, Kreios. His perspective isn’t reliable.”

When the Devil simply stared at me with that infernal smile, I shrugged.

“No, he didn’t call them bad. He specifically said they were amoral, unbound by any of the preconceived notions of our time regarding things like crime, laws, or human relationships.”

“Is that all?” Brody put in dryly.

“And we don’t have any record of what these bad boys did back in, um, Atlantis? Before they were shipped out as No Return to Sender?” Nikki had recovered herself and was rolling her drink in her hand, her long manicured nails painted an eye-popping red to go with her conductor’s outfit. “For all we know, they could have gotten a bad rap.”

“Viktor chose his marks well,” Kreios said. “The six djinn were considered the most powerful sorcerers of their time, but they were not men schooled by traditional means. They arrived in this world fully arrayed in the light of their power. According to our records, they could alter the hearts of men to a cause, command armies, change weather patterns, move with the speed of wind. They were also unusually tall and tremendously strong.”

“Sound like my kind of guys,” Nikki drawled.

Kreios winked. “The rumors of them eating the children of their enemies has never been substantiated.”

Nikki blanched, so I pushed on. “What else? Why did he want them, specifically?”

“The very nature of their magic is what draws Viktor, I suspect.” Kreios shrugged. “These are not trained sages or seers. Their abilities are purely natural. As djinn, they also are immortal and fertile. They could infuse the world with magic through natural means should they desire to do so.”

Viktor had said something similar. I grimaced. “If they’re so powerful, why didn’t they come back through on their own?”

“Because they were sent to the other side of the veil forcibly, their power stripped.” Kreios lifted his elegant brows. “It’s speculated that their abilities here, should they return, would not be anywhere near their powers during Llyr’s time. The flooding of the earth changed the climate and atmospheric plane dramatically. Lives that had extended for hundreds of years became dramatically shortened, and the ability for man to traverse the land at great speed was never spoken of again. The djinn may find the world a much changed place once they come through again.” His gaze shifted to me. “
If
they come through again.”

“And this is where Viktor decided to stash the children,” Brody mused. “To, what, give the demons a primer on humanity?”

“The dimension in which the children believe they are existing does not have any innate characteristics of Earth, and yet—those characteristics were created. An elaborate illusion was constructed to keep the children’s minds safe and whole. To accomplish that, the djinn would have had to have studied the world very closely.”

“You’re saying they built that world for them?” Brody asked.

I nodded. Viktor had already indicated as much.

“Not the world,” Kreios corrected us both. “The illusion. They kept the children alive and their minds engaged with an elaborate act of collaboration that involved all their cooperation, and they’ve been at it for ten years. If Viktor had intended this, it was masterful, but I don’t believe he did.”

“You think he merely wanted a trade. Six for six,” I said.

Kreios nodded. “It’s the least complex of outcomes. He could not have envisioned the demons would not have wanted to come through immediately. Freedom was the only thing they craved, in his mind.”

“And instead, they pulled babysitting duty. Why?”

“The motives of the djinn were never clear.” Kreios shrugged. “They were—”

“Sweet Christmas. They wanted to play God.” I sat upright in my chair, the reality of what we were dealing with hitting home to me. “Maybe they’d seen what had happened on Earth, maybe they hadn’t, but if they were going to come back here, they knew there would be changes. Maybe changes they didn’t want. Maybe manipulating these kids…” I shook my head, immediately rejecting my own theory. “No. They would have tired of the game long ago.” Regardless, something about my idea resonated with me. Something deep and primal. And scary.

“Maybe it was more of a dry run?” Nikki suggested. She glanced up as we turned to her. “They start to consider the realities of coming back, but humanity has changed. People have changed. What would it take to dominate a modern mind the way they apparently did in the bad old days?”

“Maybe.” Brody shook his head. “Ten years is a long time, though.”

Nikki lifted her brows. “To a demon holed up in darkness for millennia?”

“Fair point.”

“There is no certain date for their banishment,” Kreios agreed. “Some position it at more than ten thousand years ago. Some further. The lifetime of a child is but a blink to them.”

“Okay, but back to the main point.” Brody tapped the table. “Why are the djinn willing to come through now, after all these years?”

“It’s not only a question of whether or not they’re willing, it’s a question of whether or not they could,” I said. “Viktor thought the child swap would do it, and he was wrong, apparently. Something more is needed. And he thinks I’m that something, and that I’ll do it, given the children involved. And Brody…” I met his gaze. “He showed me more images. They’re alive. They’re safe.”

I read his cop skepticism and turned to Kreios. “Right? You think they’re stable?”

“It is impossible to tell. Their minds may have fractured long ago, or may fracture when they return to this plane. The human brain is capable of great things, but it is also fragile. They may not accept what they see.”

“But we have to try.” I looked at Brody. “We can get shrinks, right, for when they come through? Therapists?”

“We can. It’ll take a day or so to assemble a team.” He hesitated. “And I’m not sure what we’ll tell them when we do. Kind of questionable to say we might have some kids who were kidnapped by demons.”

I looked at Kreios, who stared steadily back at me. Brody didn’t know what the Devil’s innate abilities were, or how far they reached. But I did. Kreios had a knowing of a person’s innermost wants and needs, and he was a master at being able to meet those needs, should it suit his purposes. However, like everyone else on the Council, he didn’t do anything for free.

“I think having therapists there is a good idea,” Kreios said, but though Brody and Nikki nodded, it was my gaze he held for a moment longer. I looked away from him quickly enough, but the message between us was clear. The children would have his aid, to help them make the transition. And for that, I would owe him.

Owing the Devil was not the world’s best position to be in, but it beat the alternative.

At that moment, Brody’s phone buzzed. He pursed his lips while he read the screen. “As it turns out, I have a job that exists only in this dimension.” He looked at Nikki. “Promise me you won’t leave her alone?” And then to me. “And you promise you won’t do anything until I have backup assembled?”

I shrugged even as Nikki saluted a firm “yes.”

“I don’t think I’m going to need backup for this job, Brody.”

He stood, shaking his head. “I’m not talking about for you, I’m talking about for us. If we have an army of ancient demons screaming into Vegas, I’d like to be prepared.”

Chapter Fourteen

Armaeus was waiting for me at the Council’s conference room, but this time, I didn’t come alone.

“Sweet baby Jesus on a tricycle,” Nikki breathed. “Would you look at this place?”

Nikki had taken Brody’s request to heart, and had refused to let me out of her sight, even after I explained that I wouldn’t be tackling Viktor’s demons for at least another day. I had bigger oceans to navigate, quite literally—I couldn’t face a demon horde until I faced Atlantis. But I didn’t have the heart to ask her to leave either. With so many people lining up in the “people I owed” category, I was beginning to lose track. It was refreshing to have someone who legitimately seemed to be on my side for no other reason than that she wanted to be there.

“Miss Wilde. Miss Dawes.” Armaeus stood at the head of the table and had not turned around to face us. Instead, he watched the skyline of Vegas through the soaring penthouse windows. It was an impressive sight. Not merely the glitter and flash of the Strip, but the extraordinary residences of the Council: Scandal’s lava lamp neon show, looming above the Flamingo; the glittering Foolscap above the Bellagio; and the Emperor’s monolithic black tower, crackling with electricity as it soared above Paris. The homes of the Council members shone brightest from this vantage point at night, and Nikki stopped and stared as well, caught by the splendor.

“What is she doing here?” Eshe and I asked the question at the same time, and Nikki blinked beside me, taking a step back as the High Priestess swept into the room. She looked magnificent as she eyed Nikki with withering scorn, and I was happy I’d brought Nikki along.

“She shouldn’t be present,” Eshe said, turning to Armaeus. “She is nowhere near skilled enough to contribute.”

“She walks, I walk,” I said, shrugging. I’d been able to help Mercault on my own. How much worse could Atlantis be?

Armaeus remained standing but lifted a hand to stop the argument. “I have asked Eshe to join us to assist with your travel, and Simon for mapping purposes, based on what you find. I trust that’s acceptable. Kreios will arrive later.”

“Yeah, well, all the more reason to keep Nikki here.”

Eshe groaned. “This is insufferable.”

“You’ll get used to it.” I gave her a smile with more teeth than necessary.

Nikki had long since gone silent beside me, and I thought about the scene from her perspective. She’d seen each of the Council members before, of course, but I wasn’t sure if she’d seen them all together in their joint magnificence.

It was an impressive sight. Armaeus was sporting one of his trademark one percenter suits. Eshe, on the other hand, struck a pose in her favorite fashion style, the gilt-edge toga, with gold bangles around her wrist and what appeared to be gilded flip-flops on her feet. She was made up heavily enough for Halloween. “You got a hot date tonight, Eshe?”

“C’mon, c’mon, I can’t wait to begin.” Dressed in a long-sleeved tee shirt, jeans, skullcap and tennis shoes, Simon strode into the room and set his laptop on the table with a hard thump, hauling out another tablet and tossing it down as well. “I’ve got the coolest new mapping software that I bastardized from the Darkweb. It says it can account for interdimensional and intertemporal discrepancy, but of course no one has been able to test it. We’ll be the first.”

“Joy,” Nikki muttered.

He popped open his laptop and tapped furiously on the keys for ten seconds, then looked up at us again. “Oh! Nearly forgot.” He jumped up and moved to my side, slipping out a thin chain from his pocket. “You should wear this.” He winked. “For luck.”

“Luck,” I said flatly as he slid the chain over my neck. “That’s a recording device, isn’t it? In case you can’t hear me while I’m there.”

“Like I said, lucky.” He scampered back to his workstation.

“It is best that we begin, Miss Wilde.” Armaeus moved forward. “From everything that I can tell, Viktor’s conversational channel with the djinn has remained open since you left his apartments. While he expects you to journey to them at any moment, he appears unaware of your sojourn to Atlantis, which means that the element of surprise is in our favor.”

“It won’t be for long unless we move quickly,” Eshe snapped. “He’s not an idiot. He’ll suspect that Sara is going to arm herself in some way. What better way to do so than by going to the source?”

Something about her words struck a wrong chord with me, but then again, this was Eshe we were talking about. Irritating me was her stock-in-trade.

I stepped forward and pulled out a chair. When Nikki didn’t move forward with me, I turned.

“I’m good here,” she said, and her voice brooked no opposition. I frowned at her, and she leveled her gaze at me. I realized she was up on the balls of her feet, ready to take someone down. “You do what you do, but remember, when you’re in there…I’m right here, waiting for you. And I’ve got your back.” She squeezed my hand.

I squeezed back and immediately thought of Death’s advice, to have as strong a connection as possible on this side, the better to bring me back home. I smiled somewhat crookedly, then turned back around, yanking the chair out as I did. “Let’s get this over with.”