Broken Heart 09 Only Lycans Need Apply (28 page)

BOOK: Broken Heart 09 Only Lycans Need Apply
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Ax pushed the long metal bar, and the door opened outward.

“Fuck!” Ax jumped back, and the door slammed shut. He looked at us over his shoulder. “Everything’s on fire out there,” he said. “That’s definitely not the way.”

We all gathered into a tight little circle.

“We should look for another exit,” said Ax. “There are probably several. My guess is that only one of them leads to the ambrosia.” He grimaced. “Splitting up isn’t an option. Even if one of us found the right door, there’d be no way to tell the others.”

“This is going to take forever,” said Larsa. “It’s good that time is not the same here as it is on the earthly plane.”

“What are we talking about, gang?” Red leather arms slinked around mine and Larsa’s necks. The demon with the horns and the terrible taste in clothing poked his head into our huddle. “You didn’t try going out that door, did you? Because you don’t have on enough sunscreen.” He snort-laughed, and then gave me a come-hither look. “Stick with me, kitten. I’ll show you what you want.”

Larsa and I shoved him off at the same time, and he stumbled backward, smacking into the backside of a huge green-skinned dude wearing a fur kilt and red boots. It was at least eight feet tall. The creature turned around, grabbed the demon by the throat, and tossed him. The demon sailed over the dancers, and plopped like a big red rock into their midst.

The creature looked at us, and snarled.

“We don’t even know that guy,” said Ax. “We’re leaving, all right?”

Once again Ax led the way, and Larsa followed. Drake snagged my hand, and this time he followed Larsa, keeping a tight grip on me as we once again wound through the crowd. We got bumped on all sides, but managed to stay together.

Ax led us to another door. This one was a plain wooden door. A sign above it said,
RESTROOMS
.

Ax was slightly more circumspect when opening this door. He took one quick look and backed away, gagging. “No. Fuck, no.”

I didn’t even want to know what he’d seen, and neither did anyone else. Frustration burned through me. Damn it. It wasn’t like I’d had any idea what the Underworld would be like, not really, but trying to navigate through a paranormal rave hadn’t even been on the list of expectations.

Ax wheeled around and started another push through the boogying Boogey Men. We reached another wall, another door—this one had peeling paint and what looked like bullet holes in it. Above it was the sign
OFFICE
.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go in there,” said a familiar voice. Red arms slipped around my waist and pulled me close. “The manager doesn’t like unexpected visitors.” I looked up into the face of the really persistent and idiotic demon. “Hi, there,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

The growl made us look at Drake. He curved his lips in a feral smile. “Take your hands off her, or I will remove your arms. Permanently.”

The demon let me go, stepped back and lifted his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Drake grasped my hand and pulled me behind him.

“You need a Xanax, my friend.” The demon reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle. “You want?” He looked Drake over. “Oh, right. Medicine doesn’t work on werewolves.” His gaze moved over Larsa. “And the undead are stress-free enough.” He grinned at me. “How about you, kitten? You look like you could use a chill pill.”

“Will you go away?” I was supremely irritated with this asshole. What was his deal? Everyone else in the place was ignoring us.

The demon actually looked hurt. “Amahté didn’t mention you were all such party poopers.” He sighed. “Look, I know I owe him for that whole Thira thing. Now, those Minoans, they know how to party.” He looked at us and tsked. “Unlike you.”

“Wait,” I said, fascinated despite everything. “You’re responsible for the volcanic explosion on Santorini?”

His expression turned sheepish. “My little shindig got a weensy bit out of hand . . . and well, we blew up the island. It happens, you know.”

We all stared at him, and he stared back.

“What?” he asked. “Do I have brimstone on my face?”

“Who the fuck are you?” asked Drake, sounding exasperated and pissed off.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced myself.” He offered his hand. “My name is Path.”

Chapter 27

“A
mahté could’ve mentioned that we should be looking for some
one
instead of some
thing
,” said Ax.

“Oh, don’t blame him. He never knows what form I’m going to take,” said Path. Since no one had taken him up on the handshake offer, he withdrew his hand. “So, gang! Let’s go get us some ambrosia!” He rubbed his hands together. “Ready?”

I said, “For wh—”

Blink. Blink. Boom!

“—at?” I finished.

We stood on a hillside. All around us were verdant, rolling hills. Above us was a light purple sky dotted with fluffy silver clouds. And on top of the hill in front of us was a single golden tree, its branches curving up to the sky like a dozen prayerful hands. It had no leaves at all. On a single limb about midway up was a single golden fruit about the same size and shape as a plum.

The ground around the tree’s base was blackened, as though it had been scorched, though the tree itself looked untouched.

Path saw the direction of my gaze and nodded. “You would not believe how many have tried to get that last piece of ambrosia.” He rolled his eyes. “Such a kerfuffle!”

“And why can’t they get it?” asked Larsa.

“Oh, the tree won’t allow it. You see, Anubis gifted one of the fruits to Amahté for his service—right before that whole thing with Shamhat. But once a god has gifted ambrosia, it’s an unbreakable promise. He couldn’t take it back. Of course, the tree had more fruit on it three millennia ago. Anyhoodles! When Amahté gave it to you, his claim on the ambrosia ended.” He glanced up at the tree. “You’re the only who can touch it now.”

“And by touch it,” I said, “you mean I have to climb up there and pluck it.”

“That’s what
she
said.” Path snort-laughed. He slapped his thigh. “Oh, I kill myself.”

“If only you would,” muttered Larsa.

I studied the trunk, noting that it was completely smooth. Trying to climb it would be like trying to shimmy up glass. Damn.

We all walked up the hill. When we came within two feet of the tree, I kept going, but everyone else acted like they had walked facefirst into a wall. A round of cursing and rubbing of noses occurred.

“Keep going, kitten,” encouraged Path. He’d known to stop about two steps before the others. Perverse son of a bitch.

“I really have to climb this thing?” I walked around the base of the tree, and studied it some more. No footholds, no knots that I could grab onto.

“I think it would be very entertaining if you tried,” said Path. “But you could just ask the tree for it.”

“Ask . . . the tree.” I looked at Path, and he nodded.

What the hell, right? I stood under the branch, my gaze on that fruit. It was Dove’s life hanging up there. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Moira. May I please have my ambrosia?”

For a moment, nothing happened, and I began to wonder if Path had been fucking with me just to see if I would ask a magic tree for its magic fruit.

Then the limb with the ambrosia on it slowly lowered until the branch was at my eye level. “Thank you,” I said. And I grabbed the fruit and pulled it off the tree.

“Okay, kids, let’s skedaddle.” Path looked at me, offering me another skeezy smile, and before I could tell him to knock it off—

Blink. Blink. Boom!

We stood at the location where we’d entered the Underworld. The party continued, and I wondered if it ever stopped. Probably not.

“I wish I could say it had been fun, kids,” said Path. “But I really can’t. Good luck with . . . well, whatever.” Path wiggled his fingers at us, and then turned, slipping into the crowd.

“Moira.”

I turned at the sound of Drake’s voice, and saw that the portal had opened. Drake went first, then me, Larsa, and Ax.

On the other side, in the same field that we had left, Amahté and Shamhat waited for us, along with Gabriel, Braddock, and Darrius.

“You have the ambrosia?” asked Gabriel. He sounded anxious.

“Yes, and before you get any ideas, I’m the only one who can touch or use it.” I showed him the fruit. “And I’m using it to save Dove.”

Gabriel lifted a moon white eyebrow. “You mistake my intentions. Patsy made a promise. And her promise is mine as well.”

“Good,” I said. “Shall we go kick some vampire ass?”

•   •   •

“What a bastard. Holing up in my house!”

We were crouched in the back garden. Ten feet away were the French doors that led to an informal entertaining area.

“You call this a house?” asked Larsa. “This place has its own zip code.”

Team One of the Save Dove and Patsy effort consisted of me, Drake, Larsa, and Gabriel. Other teams lead by Braddock, Patrick, and Darrius were surrounding the house at various locations. I knew only what our goal was: Get to Dove and Patsy. I believed the goal of everyone else was to kill as many bad guys as possible before dawn.

“Do you know if my staff is okay?” I asked.

“I’m sorry,” said Gabriel. “We have to assume there have been human casualties.”

Meaning, the vampires had probably snacked on the people who’d been in my employ for years. Guilt scraped me like rusty razors. I had never thought to protect them. It had never occurred to me that Karn would make an assault on my house! Damn, damn, damn.

We waited.

Then we saw the first flash bomb.

We all had guns, and they were loaded with special bullets designed to maim vampires. We stood up from our hiding place, crouched low, and ran down the concrete path to the doors. One swift, brutal kick from Drake busted them wide open.

And the three bullets from his gun took down the vampire coming for us. Larsa decapitated him with her sword.

We moved on.

The consensus was that Karn had holed up in the basement with his prisoners simply because it was the safest place to be, and because he knew he held the trump card so long as he had Dove and Patsy (mostly Patsy from the paranormal perspective).

While the Broken Heart teams fought with Karn’s minions, we made our way to the kitchen—to the door that led to my basement.

The door was open, and the invitation—or rather the demand—was clear.

Karn expected us. And he no doubt thought he had his bases covered. I really wanted to punch him in the throat.

What? We’ve established my unicorn anger issues.

“Shit,” said Larsa. She gestured for us to split up and take either side of the doorway. Drake and I took one side. Larsa and Gabriel took the other. Then Drake and Larsa craned their necks to peer down the lighted stairwell.

“Oh, do come down,” called Karn. “We have so much to talk about.”

“I really hate him,” I said.

“I heard that, Moira,” he singsonged. “It’s not a good way to begin negotiations for your darling Dove’s life.”

Drake swung around and started down the stairs.

Karn yelled, “Drop your weapons down the stairs first. All of them.”

Drake stopped, and shared a look of frustration with me. Everyone grimaced, but we began the toss-down of guns, swords, daggers, and every other piece of dangerous equipment that we had attached to our persons. Eventually the rain of weaponry ended, and we heard the sounds of everything being gathered.

“Impressive,” said Karn. “Come down now.”

Drake moved down the staircase; then I, Larsa, and Gabriel followed. We had no idea what we were in for, but what else could we do? Dove was depending on me. I’d be damned if Karn won.

The basement was well lit. This part was walled off, a storage area used for party supplies. Other parts of the basement had other uses, but I wasn’t sure about the setup. Mr. Keyter handled that. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever really had cause to be in the basement. I made a mental note to have Mr. Keyter vampire-proof everything once we’d dealt with Karn. If the house was still standing and all—and if Mr. Keyter was still alive.

Rescue now, guilt later, I told myself.

Patsy was manacled to the wall, her mouth duct-taped. Her entire body vibrated with fury, and when she saw Gabriel, the look in her eyes was a blend of relief and fear.

Dove lay on a table, looking too pale and shatteringly vulnerable.

A knot clogged my throat.

“She’s alive,” said Karn. “Mostly.”

He sat on a folding chair. Two other vampires were in the room, too. One near Patsy and one near Dove. I couldn’t believe that Karn wouldn’t stack the undead favor in his odds, so I was sure other vampires lurked down here as well, hidden in the shadows and crevices. My suspicions were correct. As we gathered in a semicircle near Karn, several vampires appeared behind us.

Fear slicked my spine and made my stomach spin.

“You are such a clever one, Moira. I knew you were the key to getting to the ambrosia. Ah, but you didn’t kill the Ancients, did you?” He wagged his finger at me. “Somehow I knew you wouldn’t. You’re stubborn. But that is, of course, part of the nature of your kind.” He slipped a hand into his jacket and brought out the white blade that had ended the lives of my parents. “I’ve never seen one before. No one has . . . not in several lifetimes.” He held up the blade by the beaten copper handle. “Unicorn horn.” He shook his head. “Amazing.”

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