Infernal Games (Templar Chronicles Urban Fantasy Series) (7 page)

––––––––

R
iley
stared in stunned amazement as the SUV Cade had just stolen shot through the
gates, bounced over the curb, and sped off down the street.

Just
what the hell was going on?

One
minute Cade had been standing there, examining the body of the poor guy
strapped onto the torture rack through the use of his Gift and the next he was
dashing across the room, assaulting one of Riley’s people, and disappearing
down the street.

Riley
didn’t think he was going to forget the look on Cade’s face in the split second
after he’d let go of the corpse. Cade had been scared; there was no doubt
about that.

If
Cade was scared, that usually meant Riley should be terrified.

Just
what had he seen?

Riley
headed for one of the other vehicles, intent on chasing his former commander
down and demanding an explanation, when the sound of a helicopter coming in on
fast approach filled the air.

A
spotlight stabbed down, illuminating Riley as he stared upward. It stayed on
him for a moment and then moved on, dancing over his men and the entrance to
the warehouse, before finding and settling on a wide open space about twenty
yards away.

What
the hell?

Riley
put a hand up to shield his eyes and tried to get a look at the chopper itself,
hoping it might tell him something about its occupants.

Must
be the local police,
he thought, but rather than the standard police
chopper he could see that the aircraft now coming in for a landing was an executive
helicopter, one painted solidly black.

He’d
seen that chopper before; was all too familiar with whom it contained.

Cade
would have to wait.

Prop
wash splashed over him as the chopper began its descent and Riley turned away
to shield his face from the bits of flying debris and trash that it kicked up
as he walked back toward his men and told them to stand down.

After
a few moments the rotors of the helicopter wound down and the door slid open.
Two men from the Preceptor’s personal protection detail stepped out and
surveyed the scene, then gave the all-clear signal to Preceptor Johannson, who had
been waiting inside the aircraft and now stepped out.

Cursing
beneath his breath, Riley went to greet him.

––––––––

C
ade
sped through the night behind the wheel of the stolen SUV. Every passing
second felt like an eternity as he rushed toward his destination, terrified
that he would be too late and cursing himself for ever leaving Gabrielle alone
in the first place.

What
had he been thinking? How could he have been so stupid?

His
time away from the Order had made him complacent, it seemed, for he had not
seen the threat even when it was right there, staring him in the face.

He
had not been a praying man for some time, and even before that he’d had what
could only be called a rather contentious relationship with the Almighty, but
he prayed now, prayed fervently in fact, desperately asking for assistance from
a God he wasn’t certain he believed in any longer but knowing even as he did so
that he had nowhere else to turn.

As
he pulled into the driveway of his home in Willow Grove, however, he knew his
prayers had been fruitless. The front door, which he had left closed and
securely locked behind him when he’d left earlier that evening, was now smashed
open and hanging in its frame, supported by a single hinge.

Inside,
darkness beckoned.

Cade
pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine to the SUV. His heart was
screaming at him to rush into the house and see what had happened to Gabrielle,
but he ignored it, knowing that was precisely what the enemy wanted him to do;
to rush in blindly and get himself killed. The Adversary had tried that once
and nearly succeeded; Cade was determined not to fall for that trick a second
time.

He
got out of the truck and pocketed the keys, never taking his gaze off the front
of the house. He hadn’t noticed it before but the darkened windows and gaping
doorway all seemed to remind him of a young girl screaming.

It
was not a comforting thought.

Leaving
the driver’s door open behind him in case he had to make a quick getaway, he
pulled his pistol out from under his shirt and advanced toward the house, his
weapon at the ready.

He
stepped in through the open doorway and then paused, listening for movement
anywhere in the house. He didn’t hear anything. He moved through the lower rooms, turning on
lights as he went, not wanting to get caught in the dark with the kinds of
things that the Necromancer had at his beck and call. The living room and
foyer led into a formal dining room and then a kitchen/great room combination,
with a grand staircase leading to the second floor.

Where
Gabbi’s room was.

Before
going up the stairs Cade stepped over to the fireplace, to where a pair of
samurai swords hung on a rack. He took down the longer blade, the katana, and
drew it by flicking the scabbard away with a twist of his wrist.

He
wanted to be prepared; guns didn’t always work. There were plenty of creatures
out there in the dark corners of the world that were only affected by blows
delivered with emotion or faith behind them and that required something a bit
more personal. It was the reason why all Templars went into battle with a
blade at their side along with their firearms.

This
particular weapon wasn’t his blessed blade – that was in the workshop out
behind the house – but it would due for what he had in mind.

Then,
with sword and gun in hand, he went in search of his wife.

The
upper floor held two guest rooms separated by a guest bath, all of which were
empty, and there, at the end of the hall, the master bedroom that Cade had
turned into Gabbi’s sanctuary.

The
lock had been blasted away with a bolt of arcane power, the door smashed inward
like the entrance to the home.

Gabrielle!
his heart screamed, but he kept his emotions in check, refusing to lose it now.

He
stepped to the door and then inside the room.

As
he stepped into the master bedroom he sensed movement coming from his left and
he spun in that direction, dropping to one knee to get out of the line of
attack.

The
move saved his life, for the spectre that had been about to try to take his
head only managed to rake his back as it passed overhead. Pain flared, but
Cade could tell it was a minor wound and shouldn’t do much to slow him down.

Because
of their wraith-like form, guns were useless against spectres. Knowing this,
Cade dropped his pistol on the floor and rose with his sword extended, ready for
battle.

There
were four of them and they closed in a rush.

Cade
fought like a demon himself, snarling in rage, directing every ounce of his
anger down through the weapon at his attackers. All the fury and frustration
he’d felt, all his fear and worry over Gabrielle’s fate, was funneled into his
blows now that he had a target. His sword spun like a dervish, striking with
deadly accuracy, and soon there were two where there had been four.

The
spectres swarmed around him, striving to slip past his defenses, to gain the
opportunity to sink their fangs into his flesh or rake him with their claws,
but each time they were met with the keen edge of Cade’s blade.

Two
spectres fell in the first moments of combat, unprepared for the ferocity of
their opponent’s attack. The third fared better for a time, managing to pierce
Cade’s defenses a few times and inflict minor wounds, but even that was not
enough to stop the Heretic.

When
the third spectre fell beneath the fury of Cade’s attack, the fourth gave a shriek
of rage and turned to retreat. Cade didn’t give it the chance; he lunged,
impaling it with his sword and then slashing it in half as he pulled the weapon
free.

The
battle was over, it seemed, at least for the moment.

Cade
was standing in the middle of the room, blood dripping from the claw marks
across his shoulder and back, when it happened.

The phone rang.

Cade
spun around, the sword in his hands coming up automatically, before he had even
processed the sound and understood what it was. As the phone continued to ring,
Cade stared at it.

Felt
compelled to answer it.

He
lifted the receiver and put it to his ear, knowing even as he did so who he
would find on the other end.

“Hello,
Knight Commander.”

The
man’s voice grated, like chewing gravel and glass.

Cade
clenched his teeth together to keep from screaming in rage at the sound of the
Necromancer’s voice.

“I
see it didn’t take you long to deal with my little pets.”

With
his emotions under control, Cade asked, “What have you done with her?”

The
Necromancer laughed. “Always to the point. It is one of the things I like
about your, Knight Commander. Your wife is quite safe, I assure you.”

That
was not the answer Cade was expecting and for a few seconds it brought him up
short. When he found his voice he asked, “What do you want?”

“What
do I want? Why your help, of course, Knight Commander. In exchange for the
health and well-being of your wife.”

There
was a long moment of silence, but in the end, there was really only one answer Cade
could give.

“I’m
listening,” he said.

––––––––

R
iley
stood where he was and waited for the Preceptor and his entourage to reach
him. It was a minor breach of etiquette, but made Riley feel good
nonetheless. It wasn’t lost on the Preceptor either apparently, for Johannson
frowned as he stopped in front of him.

“Preceptor,”
Riley said, inclining his head slightly. “I wasn’t...”

“Expecting
me? Of course you weren’t,” Johannson snapped. He gave Riley a hard look, one
that clearly said I won’t forget this, and then stepped past him toward the
door of the warehouse. “Did we get him?”

The
him was, presumably, the Necromancer and Riley resisted the urge to remark that
they wouldn’t all be standing around with their thumbs in their asses if they
had caught him.

Play
nice,
he reminded himself.

“No,
sir, he was already gone when we arrived.”

Preceptor
Johannson glanced back. Riley would have sworn his frown had gotten deeper.

“Gone?
Gone where?”

“That’s
what we’re trying to ascertain, sir.”

“I...see.”

The
contempt in the man’s voice was obvious and Riley gritted his teeth to keep
from reacting. He knew a reaction was just what the man wanted and he refused
to give him the satisfaction.

They
passed the guards stationed at the door and entered the warehouse.

“This
way, sir,” Riley said, stepping around the Preceptor and leading him down the
aisle between the shipping containers. When they reached the area at the back
of the warehouse where the ritual had taken place, Riley stepped aside, giving
the other man a clear view of the scene.

Unlike
most of the other men in the room the Preceptor had never served in the field
and Riley took some minor satisfaction in watching the man struggle with his
facial expression as his stomach no doubt threatened to revolt. It was petty,
he knew, but satisfying nonetheless.

He
really
didn’t like this man.

After
a moment spent getting himself under control, the Preceptor waved a hand at the
blood and bodies in front of him.

“What
was the point? What was he trying to accomplish?”

It
was an excellent question and one for which Riley wished he had an answer.
Unfortunately, the one person who might have some insight into the issue had
just stolen his SUV and raced off into the night.

“It
is clearly a ceremonial ritual,” he began, and then spent the next few minutes
filling in the Preceptor on what they had discovered since their arrival. It
was thin, and he knew it, but there wasn’t much he could do about that right
now. He needed to get a team of technicians in here to examine the scene;
perhaps they’d learn more once the forensics squad had a chance to process the
place.

And
of course there was whatever Cade had seen...

One
of the Preceptor’s aides stepped over to him and whispered something in his
ear. The Preceptor nodded and then looked back at Riley, a surprised
expression on his face.

“Am
I correct in understanding that Knight Commander Williams is here?”

Riley’s
hesitation was barely a fraction of a second long as he weighed his options.
His instinct screamed at him to deny Cade’s presence, especially after the way
his former commander had charged out of here, but the simple fact that
Johannson had asked after the man showed he already knew the answer to his own question.
There was nothing to be gained by lying.

“Was
here, sir. He left a few moments before you arrived.”

Another
frown.

“I
see. And where was Commander Williams going?”

“He
didn’t say, sir.”

“And
you don’t find that...interesting, Captain?”

Damned
strange
was more like it, but there was no way he would tell Johannson
that.

“No,
sir. Knight Commander Williams has always been free to come and go at his own
discretion.”

The
Preceptor stared at him for a long moment without saying anything. Then,
almost casually, he asked, “Tell me, Captain, have you seen the paperwork
ordering the Necromancer be moved to Longfort?”

Riley
nodded, ignoring the abrupt change of subject. “I have,” he replied. “The
order was legitimate; it originated in the Adjutant General’s office and was
the direct result of the findings at trial the week before. Logan was found
guilty and sentenced to life in prison. The order to remand him to Longfort
was simply to allow him to carry out his sentence.”

“So
you don’t believe that any of our people were involved?”

Now
it was Riley’s turn to frown. “Our people?” he scoffed. “I don’t see how
that’s even possible. Logan has been kept in isolation for months, with barely
an opportunity to speak to anyone. He has three sets of guards permanently
attached to him, all veterans with impeccable records. There was nothing the
Necromancer could have offered that would have interested them in any way. And
without families, he couldn’t threaten their loved ones in order to force
cooperation either.”

“And
yet it is these same guards that have disappeared?”

Riley’s
tone was flat with anger as he replied, “We suspect that they’re dead, Preceptor,
not running around helping our enemy, especially one as foul as the
Necromancer. I’d swear on my mother’s grave that they had nothing to do with
the escape.”

The
Preceptor watched him closely for a moment, making Riley wonder just what the
hell he had missed. The transport crew were on the up-and-up; he’d bet his
life on it.

Johannson
reached back toward his aide and snapped his fingers. The other man reached
inside the leather attaché case he carried and withdrew a single sheet of
paper, which he then passed to the Preceptor. The Preceptor, in turn, handed it
to Riley.

“What’s
this?” Riley asked.

“Read
it,” was the curt reply.

Riley
did so.

It
was an order remanding the Necromancer into the custody of the warden at the
Longfort Containment Facility. He scanned the document, noting that it seemed
to be properly prepared and executed.

“I
don’t see what this...”

His
gaze fell on the last line of the document and he stopped in mid-sentence. The
order was dated three months earlier, just prior to the Order’s attack on the
Chiang Shih stronghold in the Beyond.

More
importantly, however, was the fact that it was signed by Cade Williams.

The
Preceptor reached out and took the paperwork out of Riley hands, then went on
before the other man had a chance to comment. “Given the prior history between
these two individuals, I think it prudent that we ask Knight Commander Williams
to explain himself. I’m ordering you to locate the Knight Commander and to
bring him in for questioning in this matter. The sooner the better.”

Riley
couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Are
you suggesting that Commander Williams was somehow involved in the
Necromancer’s escape?” he asked. The notion was absolutely absurd.

The
Preceptor, however, apparently didn’t share Riley’s views. “We won’t really
know until we speak to him, now will we?”

Bullshit,
Riley thought.
Cade risked life and limb to personally apprehend the
Necromancer just a few short months before. Why on earth would he do that only
to turn around and help him escape again? Doing so made absolutely no sense.

The
Preceptor glanced around again, as if proving that the sight of all the bloody
mayhem no longer bothered him, and then turned his rueful stare on Riley. “I
want the Necromancer found, Knight Captain, and found quickly. If that means
bringing Commander Williams in for questioning then so be it. Pull out all the
stops, do whatever you have to do, but get this man back into custody. We’ve
never had an escape of this magnitude before and I’ll be damned if I’m to go
down in the history books as the man who let this bastard lose. Do I make
myself clear?”

“Yes,
sir.”

Crystal
clear,
Riley thought
. You’re more worried about your reputation than
the innocent lives that are going to be impacted by this man’s escape. And
you’ll throw Cade to the wolves in the process if that’s what it takes to make
you look better.

The
Preceptor either didn’t notice or chose to overlook the sharpness in Riley’s
tone. “I will expect regular updates and wish to speak to Commander Williams
myself when you return to the commandery.”

Then,
having issued the orders that Riley was certain were his true purpose for being
here, the Preceptor turned on his heel without another word and headed for the
exit, his aides following suit behind him.

Riley
didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until he heard the whine of the helicopter
outside as it fired up its rotors.

Good
riddance, he thought.