Deception (25 page)

“Not quite dawn, my lord.”

The message from Cullum informed him they had a prisoner in custody.

Rage, excitement, and fear pulsed through him. He crumbled the message in his fist. “Please wake my brother and inform him we are needed at the castle, and have the carriage brought around.”

“Right away, my lord.”

Dorian stepped back inside the bedroom.

Lillian pulled her serviceable dress over her chemise. “They have a demon?”

“Yes.” He dressed and armed himself.

She pulled up her boots and slid her remaining
sai
blade into the sheath. “Are you certain you are ready to do this?”

He took a deep breath to subdue the anger rising above all other emotions. “I am quite certain.”

She pursed her lips as if to say something else, but only sighed and walked to the door.

Brice waited in the foyer by the time they descended.

At the castle’s side door, Tybee waited. “I never thought I’d be seeing anything like this.”

Dorian nodded. “This will not be the last time you will say those words.”

“I fear that is the truth.” Tybee led them down to the lowest level of the castle. Effectively, they entered a dungeon complete with chains buried in stone walls.

Inhuman cries filtered through the lantern-lit dungeon, bouncing off the stone and echoing.

Tybee stopped. “I’ll leave you to find your own way from here. I’ve got to keep an eye on that boy. He’s determined to see what is happening. He knows not when to stay back from the thing.”

“We can manage,” Lillian said.

They followed the ear-piercing noises at the farthest end of the prison below the great hall.

The last time a demon was taken into custody, the creature killed itself in the London office by bashing its head against the wall repeatedly.

In the cell at the end of the corridor, the trebox demon was strapped to a chair in the middle of the room. He screamed and spit, cursing his captors.

Cullum and Marius, a seasoned demon hunter, stood watching the creature. Marius crossed his arms over his chest and scowled while Cullum leaned against the wall.

“Have you learned anything?” Dorian asked.

“Only that the demon can carry on for an annoyingly long time,” Marius said.

“How did you capture him?” Lillian asked.

Marius’s frown intensified. “I found that one and another prowling the streets for victims to kidnap. It was not difficult to take one alive.”

The hunter had a broad chest and enormous upper arms. It was easy to imagine him overwhelming a trebox or two. The weakest of the known demons, they had strength equal to a human and no poison or magic.

Brice entered the cell and punched the demon in the face, silencing the tedious screaming. “Where is the master? Tell me and I will spare your life.”

The trebox spit bile and missed Brice by inches.

Brice hit him again.

Lillian backed away from the cell. “I will wait above. When Lord Shafton wakes, I will have a word with him.”

He understood her aversion to interrogation. He preferred she not see what he was willing to do to gain information. “I will join you when this is done.”

With a nod, she returned down the corridor and up the steps.

Once she was out of sight, Dorian entered the cell. He pulled his sword and placed the tip against the largest finger on the trebox’s left hand. “Listen carefully, demon. I am going to cut you up piece by piece until you tell me what I want to know.”

“I will die then for my master.”

Dorian wrapped one hand around the back of the demon’s head and gripped his jaw with the other. He snapped his pointed teeth together causing him to bite his serpent-like tongue. “Oh no, you will not die. I will keep you alive in this cell for years to come. I will return each time you are healed to take the next bit of you until you are nothing but a rotting carcass many moons in the future. You will be my life’s project.”

The trebox gagged on the blood from his tongue until Dorian released him.

He spat black blood on the stone floor. “I will never tell you anything.”

“We shall see.” Dorian cut off the tip of his finger.

The demon’s wails echoed off the stones.

Dorian wanted to silence the demon and every other of his kind. He longed for retribution for his mother and the loss to his family. He moved the sword up to the knuckle of the demon’s bloody finger.

The trebox closed his mouth and stared at the blade.

“I want to know how the master moves from place to place.”

No reply.

Dorian pressed his blade slowly through the demons knuckle, removing another piece of finger and eliciting another scream.

“How does the master move from place to place?”

“He travels in the void between worlds.”

“What is in the void?”

The demon spit at him.

Dorian cut the tip off another finger. Blood dripped from both digits.

Renewed screams filled the cell.

Dorian’s stomach churned, and he had to force down bile.

“It is where your dead wait.”

“Purgatory,” Brice said.

“The master can survive there and enter this world to gain strength.”

“And can he open the vortex anywhere?” Dorian placed the blade at the knuckle of the next finger and cringed at the whine that poured from the demon.

“It must be in proximity to a source of power.”

“Like the gates?” Brice asked.

The trebox’s breath grew short and fast. “Holy places converted for our master.”

“When will he strike again?”

Foam bubbled from the creature’s mouth. His eyes bulged, and he struggled against his bindings.

Dorian backed up a step. He raised his sword, ready to protect Brice no matter what the creature did. Perhaps the trebox had poison after all.

It rocked the chair with its violent display, shuddering and convulsing.

Brice pulled his sword.

Marius stepped inside the cell.

Dorian’s heart sped ready for an attack.

The chair’s front legs broke from the jerking. The demon was on his feet, ran forward, and impaled himself on Dorian’s sword.

He pulled the blade back and let the demon fall in a heap with the broken chair.

Drake still leaned against the wall. “That was surprisingly productive.”

Dorian stepped from the cell. “We could have gotten more, but I am satisfied.”

Drake nodded. “The fact that the master is not well enough to survive entirely in our world is valuable information, and Miss Dellacourt proved he can bleed. You should take some comfort that your mother did not die in vain.”

There was truth in Cullum’s words, yet they did not ease his guilt or pain. With a nod, Dorian left the dungeon.

* * * *

Lillian’s stomach growled. She filled a plate at the sideboard and sat. They’d been so busy it had been a while since she’d had a good meal.

The Company offices had living quarters, a kitchen and dining room like the castle above, though not as grand. Still it was a suitable meal to break the fast.

Shafton stepped through the doorway, stopped, and stared at her. His brow drew down into a scowl and he proceeded to the sideboard. “I am not accustomed to being summoned.”

“No. I imagine you are not.”

He approached the table with a mountainous plate of food.

A footman entered bringing coffee, which he placed at the head of the table next to his lordship.

The footman asked if she wanted something, and Lillian waved him off.

Shafton stuffed a large piece of sausage in his mouth and spoke around it. “What is it you think you have found, Miss Dellacourt?”

“I have read your journals.”

He looked up from his plate blankly.

She added, “The journals written when you and three friends thought to control the demons.”

His fork clattered to the plate. “How on earth did you…” He must have realized the countess was the only possible source for Lillian getting the journals, and the question died on his lips.

She’d hated him in Inverness, but now she was sorry for him. “How I came by the journals is not relevant.”

“You must be quite pleased to have found the proof of my failure. Indeed, your heart must have soared when you read those pages.”

Her chest tightened and she placed her fork on the table. “I thought I would be happier to learn you had created this mess.”

Shafton pushed his full plate away from the edge of the table. “I’m sure you were anxious to get me here and gloat over the collapse of my plans.”

The picture he painted of her was not flattering. Lillian wished it was unwarranted, but she’d have to settle for it being untrue. “You were young and you made a mistake. I will grant you it was a rather large one. To be honest, the only pleasure the information brought me is the knowledge you are human.”

“I do not believe you.” His face turned bright red.

She shrugged. “That is because you think me cold-hearted. Perhaps you are correct, but it is irrelevant. I do not care about your missteps or your feelings, Shafton.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you want then?”

She circled the table to where he sat, put her fists against the wood, and leaned forward until her face was inches from his. “I want you to do what you should have done years ago. You must use what you know to help our cause rather than hiding facts to save face.”

Dorian and Brice stepped inside the dining room. Brice took a plate and went to the sideboard.

Dorian took the seat nearest to Lillian’s without bothering to get food. His normal healthy pallor was pale and his shoulders slumped.

Shafton bristled. His cheeks puffed up as if he might argue the point, but then he deflated and stared down at his hands on the table.

Lillian backed away and returned to her seat. “Your journals are quite detailed until the end. Then what happened is quite cryptic.”

Shafton cleared his throat. “I was rather distraught at the time of those last entries.”

“I understand.”

“I was nearly killed, and my friends were all dead.” Sweat beaded on his brow, and he twisted his hands together.

“Take us through the events after Ellsbury and Whitley were killed.”

The earl looked down at his feet and wiped his hands on his trousers. He cleared his throat a few times. “This is not something I care to discuss.”

She pounded her fist on the table, shaking the china. “You will speak to me or you will speak to Cullum, but by all that is holy you will speak of this, or I will beat you within an inch of your life. I am trying very hard to understand what you did all those years ago. Frankly, there are others who are not as forgiving. I believe the demons were coming no matter what, and your foolishness only hastened their arrival.”

He leaned back and narrowed his eyes at her. “You have always wanted to bring me low. That is what this is about.”

Dorian put his elbows on the table. His eyes burned with a ferocity she had not seen before. “Shafton, answer Lillian’s questions or I’m going to hold you down while she beats you.”

The earl slumped. He looked at the table, then the ceiling before returning his gaze to her. “I ran, but the demons found me. There were only three demons in our worlds then. Trebox, but not of the ilk we see today. These were larger, smarter, and linked with the master. They knew his will and did his bidding without instruction. They were an extension of the master.”

“Where did they find you?” Lillian asked.

He did not make eye contact, but his eyes flitted between his hands and the door. “I had planned to run. Perhaps leave the country. I arranged for Jacinda and Belinda to be well taken care of, and I raced toward the sea. The demons rode upon beasts pulled straight from hell. Not horses nor bulls, but some abomination of the two. They were faster than any animal I have ever seen, and they overtook me twenty miles from Edinburgh.”

He shivered and didn’t look up from where his clasped hands rested on the table.

She imagined him living through hell when he lost his friends and became the prey of demons without anyone’s support. His daughter, Belinda, survived her capture with the knowledge that her husband and The Company would come for her. David Clayton had been alone without any hope of rescue.

She shuddered at the idea of complete isolation in the face of the demons he described. “What did they want with you, my lord?”

“They needed someone of this world to complete their ritual. They brought me back to the cave where I found the first of them. I thought they were hiding, but I realized they were waiting for a human foolish enough to walk into their midst. I played into their hands and gave them exactly what they needed. I even provided them with the blood of three nobles to strengthen the master.”

Dorian said, “I thought the master only needed strength because his ascension was compromised.”

The earl shook his head. “No. His strength wanes because his world dies. He is connected. I think he hoped to build a bridge to this world by using my daughter as a conduit. That is only a speculation. I have no evidence that Belinda’s death would have healed him.”

“The master told her she would ease his way, and because she didn’t die, he was drained of whatever power he had.” Lillian’s gut tightened remembering Belinda hanging over the enormous demon gateway. “Now the master seeks noble blood to regain his health.”

“Yes. It was noble blood that created the first gateway.”

“How did the three who captured you come through?”

“I do not know. I discovered them near the cave outside of Edinburgh, but the gate had not been opened yet.”

“Then there are other ways through.” Lillian reached over and took Dorian’s hand. The comforting squeeze eased her stampeding heart.

Brice had not touched his food. He pushed the plate away and leaned back. “This is very bad news, but one problem at a time. The majority of demons arrive via the gates. Let us address that problem first. How do we close the gates?”

“I do not know,” Shafton said.

“But you have the knowledge to teach us how to open one. Is that true?” Lillian asked.

“Yes.” He closed his eyes and shivered visibly.