Viper Moon (31 page)

I slammed my hands down on the kitchen counter. Shit, what made me think, after ten years, that I needed an army? I knew the answer to my own question. Shellshocked, battle weary, burned out, worn out, and totally used up. I didn’t want to go it alone anymore, even though I knew it was best. There was more, of course. Dacardi, his son, and his weapons were not an accident.

When Dacardi called earlier, he sounded excited, not angry. He saw his son’s rescue as one last adventure in his life, I guess. But what would happen if Richard wasn’t with Selene? Would Dacardi’s anger turn to me?

Abby’s phone rang. I answered.

“Good evening,” Michael said. “I have found your children, but they’re in the Zombie.”

Sure they were. Smack in the middle of the biggest known pentagram on earth. “Can you give me directions?” I asked.

“I’ll take you there.”

“Take me where, Michael?” Shit! I didn’t have time for a mystery game.

“It’s a three-story building next to what was once the central town plaza.”

Sure it was. The plaza and ritual sacrifice under the open sky.

“Any guards?”

“I saw none, but that means nothing. I paid a delivery truck driver to pretend he was lost and take me through the area, but I didn’t linger. That one building had signs that someone used it recently. We won’t be able to drive up to the front door, but I can probably get us within five blocks. If we arrive early, there shouldn’t be too many of the beasts out.”

I scanned the aerial photo. Building heights were difficult to determine with aerial photos, but only one looked promising. “The plaza. It’s northwest of the Archangel, maybe two miles. The building on the south side?”

The phone was silent.

“Michael? You there?”

“Yes. And, yes, that’s where it is. I wasn’t aware you knew the Zombie so well.”

“I’ll meet you in front of the Archangel in two hours.”

“Will Flynn be with you?” Michael asked, almost cautiously.

“Yes.” I glanced at Flynn. He sat watching me, a little interest in his eyes.

“You can’t come now? It would be better if we could go in alone.”

“No. It’s his sister.”

“Very well.” Michael sounded resigned. “I’ll wait for you.”

If Dacardi didn’t show in an hour, Flynn and I would go alone.

I’d no more than hung up when the cell phone Dacardi had given me beeped.

“I got the fucking bronze,” Dacardi snarled before I could say hello. “And the fucking night goggles, flamethrowers, grenades—”

“Grenades? I didn’t say grenades. Flamethrowers? Great Mother!”

“Too bad. Bronze, my ass. I’m on my way.”

I didn’t have time to argue with him, but he’d better not toss a grenade around in a storm sewer.

“Grenades?” Flynn stared at me in shock after I hung up. “Doesn’t it bother you? All the loose ends. Michael, Elise, Avondale, warehouses full of guns and ammunition. A criminal building an army?”

Bother
was too mild a word for the shit rolling around in my mind. I’d run out of options, but the gut feeling that I was really screwing things up wouldn’t leave me. “Leave if you want to, Flynn. I’ll find Selene and Richard, but it’s going to get worse.”

He shook his head. “It’s been getting worse since the day I met you.”

That hurt. I guess it showed.

“I’m sorry, Cass. That was stupid.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re worried.” I made an excuse for him to cover my pain. I hoped it made him feel better, because it did nothing for me. Making love had brought temporary relief. I needed a bridge. He’d gone from my world back to the ordinary world of being a cop, and then come back to the Earth Mother’s magic. He dealt with things adequately, if not gracefully. I had to cut him a break.

I laid out the aerial map and studied it, looking for any possible alternatives to going underground. There were none. Only if the storm sewers had collapsed would I try to sneak in aboveground, as Michael wanted.

Flynn suddenly grabbed my hand and drew me onto his lap, and I snuggled against him. I kissed him, rubbed my cheek against his, and ran my fingers through that dark, curling hair. I’d hold on as long as I could.

“Do you trust Dacardi?” he asked.

“As long as he wants something.”

“What does Michael want? You said you didn’t trust him.”

“I trust him . . . marginally. I don’t know what Michael wants.” Not exactly true. I knew one thing Michael wanted. Me. “I’ve always worked alone, taken care of myself and whatever kid I was after. Michael has helped me find kids. He saved your life after I’d put it in danger, showing off the Barrows.”

“He did that for you, not me. You’d go alone? Tonight?”

“If I had my way, yes. But I don’t have my way. I don’t think I’ve been making many of my own decisions since you showed me Selene’s photo. We’re pawns on the game board.”

“Can’t we do better than that? Let’s call ourselves knights at least.”

That made up for his earlier remarks and earned him a kiss. He squeezed me too tight and shuddered. We held on to each other until we heard vehicles pull up out front.

Two long, black steel boxes stood at the curb. At first, I thought they might be those gas-guzzling things referred to as Hummers. A closer look and I realized they were different. Bigger, stronger, maybe armor-plated tanks disguised as street vehicles, vibrating with the grumble of diesel engines. Maybe I shouldn’t have told Dacardi I’d be willing to go to war. I meant a small assault force, not an all-out invasion.

Nefertiti nestled in the basket I was carrying. She had come from the sewers and she would be my guide. I placed Selene’s stuffed rabbit and Richard’s dirty jocks in with her so she’d know their scent.

Flynn and I climbed in the wide, leather-covered backseat bench. Dacardi rode shotgun in one of the bucket seats up front. The driver was not one of his usual goons, but a sharper man, more alert. Odd instruments gleamed on the van’s dash and filled the interior with a green glow; gear covered the area behind us, probably the guns and ammo. Dacardi had raised the stakes far beyond anything I’d thought of. I was suitably impressed.

“Damn, Dacardi, nice wheels. What are they?”

“
Perros bomberos
—Fire Dogs. Backup. Men, guns. Just in case.” Dacardi chuckled, but it sounded dry and flat.

“Won’t the army miss them?”

“The army wishes.” Pride filled his voice. “Own a factory south of here. I might sell the Feds one or two if they talk nice to me—and stop poking around in my business.” He held out a small instrument. “Satellite positioning,” he said. “When we’re ready, my men can find us, get us out.”

Good. He knew we couldn’t take too many men with us. Carlos Dacardi: more than a city crime boss, maybe an international arms dealer, a man whose grandmother taught him about magic. A man who loved his son enough to risk everything. I glanced at Flynn. As usual, his straight face gave little hint to his emotions, or to the conflict that had to be raging in him now.

Nefertiti poked her head out of the basket I’d set between my feet. She stretched toward Dacardi, her tongue flickering at lightning speed as she explored her surroundings.

Dacardi stared at her.

“She won’t hurt you,” I said.

“Hello, snake,” he said softly. He held out his hand. Nefertiti bumped it with her head and coiled around his wrist for a moment before withdrawing into the basket. She accepted him. I guess one deadly creature knows another.

“I called my mama today,” Dacardi said. “Hadn’t done that in a couple of years. My mama doesn’t like me much. But I asked about my grandmother. She died last year. Had to have her cremated ’cause they wouldn’t let her be buried on church ground. Parish priest tried to get her to confess before she went, but she wouldn’t have none of that. Bet she’d have burned his ears off. Old witch was a hundred and five.”

I smiled. I didn’t know if his grandmother served the Mother or some other entity, but I could imagine some priest trying to cajole Abby into confession.

Who could I count on tonight? Flynn, loyal and at my back. Nefertiti, swift and deadly. They would have to do. Dacardi would probably be with me, at least until he found his son. The big unknown was, of course, Michael. I had to make a decision. Should I leave the Archangel behind? He’d cared enough to personally take me to the Goblin Den, where he knew I’d get hurt or killed if I went alone. He wanted me. He’d saved Flynn’s life. When the monster knocked Flynn down in the sewers, he had only to wait a few seconds and it would have been over.

“Stop at the Archangel,” I ordered the driver as we entered the Barrows’ dark ruins.

Michael stood in the Archangel’s parking lot when we arrived. An almost empty parking lot. How rare. Had the patrons felt the dangerous pall cast by the dark moon?

Michael had dressed his fine muscled body in black and wore a black cap over that silky blond hair. He frowned and straightened, suddenly on alert at the appearance of two thinly disguised war machines. If I hadn’t been expecting Dacardi at Abby’s house, I’d have done the same.

Michael’s frown turned to shock when the Fire Dog stopped and I opened the door.

“Come on, Archangel,” I called to him. “Let’s roll.”

Michael walked to the open door. “What are you doing? We can’t go in the Barrows with—”

“Yes, we can. And we are.”

Michael didn’t hesitate. He climbed in. “You are the damnedest woman I have ever met in my life,” he said.

I’d expected a fight. “That’s why you like me so good, huh?”

“Where did you get this military strike force?” Michael asked.

Dacardi turned and grinned at him between the seats.

Michael’s mouth twisted in distaste. “Carlos. I might have known.”

Dacardi sneered. “Don’t push it, pretty boy. I know you, too.”

Michael shrugged, then said, “Tell me something, Detective Flynn. Cass, Dacardi, and I all have something in common. Do you know what it is?”

Flynn’s voice sounded strained. “You’re all criminals. You tell
me
something, Michael. Dacardi is here for his son. I want my sister. Cass is on a holy mission. What do you want?”

“There wasn’t anything good on television tonight.” Michael laughed, but it sounded brittle, like crushing aluminum foil. “And I love the absurd dark comedy.”

Nobody said anything to that. So Flynn considered me a criminal. Just because I carried an illegal gun and a few pieces of fake ID. Well, I did ask Dacardi to kidnap Hammer, but it wasn’t my fault Hammer died. And I probably killed that Bastinado whose ribs I’d punched in. Killing Pogo the Slum Devil didn’t count, and Flynn didn’t know about Theron, which was self-defense anyway. I let out a mental sigh and gave in.
Okay, I’m a criminal
. Yet he accepted me anyway . . .

We rolled down River Street toward the docks—an empty River Street. No prostitutes, no strutting Bastinados; animal instinct must have told them this wasn’t a night for ordinary evil. I leaned forward and told Dacardi’s driver to turn left into the Zombie.

“No!” Michael’s hand suddenly shot out and caught the back of my neck. He squeezed. “There’s another way!”

“Let me go.” I twisted, trying to break his grip.

With the faint whisper of metal sliding over leather, Flynn suddenly had a knife at Michael’s throat, under his ear. “It’s not bronze,” he said, his voice quiet and steady. “Let’s see if it cuts anyway.”

Michael froze.

So did I. Flynn’s words carried deadly intent. Flynn would kill to protect me. Flynn loved me. I’d seen the signs, but my own emotional roller coaster got in the way. The moment I realized it, the warmth and love I felt when I rescued a child was nothing compared to the joy gliding through me then. And I loved him. The thing, the ball of fire that rolled during our lovemaking; his steadiness when I, a very strong person, needed it—how could I not love him? But this wasn’t the time or place to dwell on it.

Michael released me with a sigh, leaned back, and crossed his arms.

Flynn relaxed, but he kept the knife out and ready.

I turned to Flynn, but he stared out the window at the rolling dark. My ten-year private battle with the servants of the Darkness had gone to hell in two days. If I survived the night, I’d have a poster printed to hang on my wall next to Murphy’s Law: CHAOS RULES!

The Zombie’s streets were often blocked and debris crunched under the tires. We had to make detours twice, once around a massive crack in the pavement and another where a building had collapsed into the street. I’d memorized the aerial photo and guided the driver. Two creatures dashed away from the headlights, humanlike, but one dragged a tail behind it.

Dacardi hissed, but he held steady. His driver simply drove. Had he seen these things before?

“They run from the light, Dacardi,” I tried to reassure him. “We really didn’t even need this much backup.”

“Bastinados got guns, too, you know,” he said.

I started to say that they didn’t have much firepower compared to us, but given Big Devil Snag’s story of arms, I knew I might be wrong.

Flynn draped his arm across my shoulder and dragged me closer against his solid body. When he did, he swiped the knife past Michael’s face. Michael didn’t blink, but it must have reminded him of his earlier actions.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.” Michael laid a hand on my arm. “I just think you’re making a mistake.”

I agreed, but I’d acted on instinct. “Forget it. We’re all edgy.” Edgy? We were damn near insane. Rescuing kids used to be as easy as a quick snatch and run. Me, the Huntress. Alone. How did I wind up dragging armed, dangerous men with me? Men who despised each other at that.

The Fire Dog slowly made its way deeper into the Zombie, the headlights cutting the claustrophobic dark and creating odd, menacing shadows in eerie urban ruins. No sound penetrated the Fire Dog other than the soft grumble of the engine.