Deception (15 page)

“I’m sorry, but who is her father?”

“Oh, you are new in town. Truly is the daughter of the Earl of Brentshire. He is one of the richest men in Edinburgh. I think he has an English title too. I don’t know why no one can find her. You will try, won’t you?”

“Of course we will.”

The disappearance of the young girl was all anyone was talking about. It developed into comments about a young man who had gone missing a few weeks earlier and a widow who had disappeared last week.

The majority of society believed the young man was out sowing his wild oats. He’d never vanished without a word before, but he was rakish and no one seemed very concerned. The widow was on everyone’s mind. Strange she went to visit relatives without a word to anyone in town. Her servants didn’t even know where she’d gone.

The last person on her ladyship’s list was Jane’s maid. They found her below stairs and questioned her, but her story was the same as Miss Foster’s.

When Lillian excused herself and climbed the stairs to her fictional bedroom, it was still early by most standards. A half hour later, Dorian said his goodbyes and called for his carriage.

He drove down the block away from the crowds and pounded on the roof of his carriage. The driver stopped, jumped down, and opened the door. “Is there a problem, my lord?”

“Please wait here a moment.”

Lillian trotted across the gardens and lawns to the carriage in one of her dresses rather than the ball gown. Slightly out of breath and her color high, she stuck her head in the doorway. “Hello.”

The driver handed her up, and Dorian gave him instructions to take them to Princes Street.

They arrived after one o’clock in the morning. The street would be bustling in the daytime, but not at night. They had the carriage take them to Corrine’s Café where the girls had taken their chocolate.

“They couldn’t have gone far,” Dorian said.

“No, not with an unconscious girl. Someone would have stopped them.”

“A block maybe?”

“I agree.”

“Then why could no one find her or traces of them?”

“They were looking in the wrong places. They were looking in places people go.”

“I see. You know, Edinburgh is a city built on ruins of the old city.”

She smiled, and suddenly his heart beat faster and he stood taller.

“There must be a way to get down there, and it has to be close.” She stood in front of the café and closed her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Jane said they were standing here waiting for the carriage. When she said she looked away she turned her head to the left. The demons grabbed Truly and ran off in the other direction. She did not say they crossed the street or any other details. I think we should assume they stayed on this side of the street, and the entrance will be within a block or the good Samaritans who tried to give chase would have found them.”

“That is conjecture.”

She shrugged. “This is what I do, Dorian. We have nothing to lose by looking over there.”

With a nod, he took the lead and walked to the right. They searched for some kind of sign that indicated an entrance to something below the city. They turned down a narrow alley less than a block from where the demons had nabbed the girl. The streetlamps did not illuminate the narrow passage, but the moon was a few days from being full. Demons held their sacrifices on the full, new, and quarter moons. He only hoped they were holding the girl for the nearing full moon.

“I think I have something.” Lillian crouched in the street above a metal grate over a cellar window.

He crossed to her. The grate was large enough for a man to pass.

She tucked her skirts into the clever belt, exposing the high boots that held her most dangerous weapons.

Dorian slid the grate aside. The iron was heavy, but not difficult to move. Demons could have made it through the opening without any problem.

Lillian slipped through the window and out of sight.

Dorian jumped down just behind her. His heart lodged in his throat until he was with her, standing in the corridor just below street level. It was dark, but they were able to make out the way. Demon stench fouled the air.

“Lilly, what will you do if we are outnumbered?”

“We are always outnumbered. Just kill more demons, Dorian, and do not get yourself killed.” She kissed him and took the lead. She slid her knives from her boots and tucked them against her forearms.

Holding up his walking stick, he slid the hidden stiletto out of the casing.

The odor increased and a low hum sounded from up ahead. Periodically, small windows shone light from the street above.

Lillian walked down the hall, the steel of her sai shined in the limited moonlight.

He had no idea what to expect. What he really wanted was to push her behind him and tell her to get out of there. He knew better. She was a demon hunter and one of the best. He pushed down his instincts. She was far better equipped for this than he was.

Passageways turned left and right, but all continued forward.

“Are we going deeper?”

She smiled back at him. “Very good. Yes, it seems this tunnel angles down and continues south. The chanting is getting louder.”

After they passed the last window, the air grew damp and he had to squint to see. They were too deep under the city. It was terrifying to think about what was going on below ground while he had lived on the surface and not seen the signs. Something to think about later.

At the end of the passage, they had no choice but to turn right. The stench of rotting flesh hit him, and he stifled a cough. Lillian’s arm shot out, and she pulled him behind a pillar in a dark corner.

A cavernous room stretched out in front of them. A fire taller than him burned in the center of the room. Six trebox demons worshiped at an altar on the far side. A woman and a girl huddled together to one side of a stone altar, while a malleus demon stood over them with a spear. Tears streaked the younger’s filthy face as they both attempted the strange chanting.

Dorian turned to Lillian. “Have you seen this before?”

She shook her head, then pointed toward the left.

He grabbed her arm. “We should wait and follow the demons. We might find the master.”

“The women might not survive the night.” She pulled her arm away and moved around the room. She kept in the shadows and crept toward the larger, malleus demon. If she took him out, they might succeed against the rest and not get the women killed.

He didn’t like the odds. They should wait out this ritual and follow the demons to wherever the cell was hiding. The women were alive and likely to stay that way until the full moon.

Lillian stalked closer to the women, blades ready. Firelight flashed along the blackened walls behind her. She slipped behind a stone support post. A lump formed in his throat until she stepped back into view. He crept along the wall to the left careful not to step in puddles and alert the demons.

Their quarry did not turn or waver from the ritual. The chanting continued, rising and falling in cadence that made him nauseous. The sound took hold of his head and beat it from the inside. If they didn’t move quickly, he’d be sick.

Filth dotted the floor. These monsters had been here long enough to leave their mark. No hunters had bothered them to this point. They posted no guards at the entrance. They were complacent. After tonight, that would change.

The hostages chanted through sobs while Lillian inched closer to her mark. Once Dorian was across from her, he drew a deep breath and waited. The older of the two hostages made eye contact with him. Her eyes widened as did her mouth, maybe to call out or scream for help. Dorian held his finger up in front of his lips, and she closed hers, remaining silent but watchful.

Lillian had vanished, and it put his nerves on edge. He scanned the dark corners for her, checked the rafters where she might have climbed up for a better attack position.

The point of a thin blade pushed through the Malleus’s thick neck. It clutched its throat, and its knees buckled.

Dorian locked gazes with the hostage and pointed toward the back of the room where they’d come in. He pulled a pair of pistols from inside his jacket.

The demon collapsed to the floor, and Lillian stood on top of him. She faced the remaining six.

Dorian fired both guns at the closest two.

Their heads exploded. The four remaining echoed a battle cry and charged them.

She leaped into the fray.

Dorian drew his stiletto and ran toward the closest demon.

Trebox were agile but not terribly strong. Most could communicate with humans.

Lillian sliced through a trebox’s throat as if it were a teacake.

He lost sight of her. Panic pressed against his chest. She could protect herself, him too for that matter. He cut a demon’s chest, but not deep enough to fell him. Steel whooshed dangerously close to his ear and tore the shoulder of his tailcoat.

The trebox lifted its curved sword, and Dorian thrust forward and skewered his chest. The last attacker rushed him. It was unarmed, but its sharp nails bit into his shoulder.

Twisting, he managed to dislodge the creature while pulling his blade from the other. He cut off the trebox’s right arm as Lillian stabbed through its back.

Silence fell, punctuated with his heavy breathing and pounding heart.

Lillian stared at him, her breath coming as hard.

One of the women huddled on the floor near the entrance whimpered.

Lillian looked at his shoulder where blood seeped through his blouse and coat.

“I’m all right.

With a nod, she ran to the victims.

The demons’ altar had been created from a fallen pillar. A metal fleur-de-lis with a snake twisted around sat atop. The sign of the master. Without touching it, he wrapped the artifact in his handkerchief. He’d never been comfortable touching anything made by demon hands. Perhaps a foolish quirk, but he made certain to keep the handkerchief between the metal and his flesh.

His boots stuck to the bloody floor. The fire pit died down to a flicker. “I think it’s time we got out of here, Lilly. Please lead our friends out, and I will take up the rear.”

She gave him a questioning glance, got the women moving.

The floor rumbled, so they pushed the traumatized women faster. They hurried through the tunnel with Lillian leading the way. She jumped up through the open window, and he lifted the victims to her, climbed out, and replaced the grate.

Dorian’s footman waited by the carriage and helped the ladies climb up.

“Take us to the castle.”

The vehicle moved and a cry rent the air. The inhuman screech sent an ache in his teeth.

The rescued women screamed.

Dorian threw open the door and jumped down. The carriage stopped a few feet away. “Go. Get them out of here.”

Three pravus shrieked and jumped along the ground. No bigger than a three year old, they looked harmless, but they were quick as a race dog. Two ran from the street and up the side of the building while the third bounded down the street. They defied all the laws that governed men. Spider-like, these mean little beasts scaled vertical structures with ease.

Lillian’s boots hit the ground behind him.

Obediently, the carriage sped away.

She pressed her back against his. She was a warrior. Nothing would change the fact, and he’d have to accept it or lose her.

“Back to back, Dorian. Do not let any of them touch you. Do not allow them in our circle. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Turning as one, Dorian and Lillian kept the demons in sight. One ran forward and he sliced the air with his stiletto.

The pravus jumped back and circled to the left. Another screeched and Lilly’s blade whooshed. “I was too slow.”

“They are too fast.”

“Be patient. They’re testing us. Looking for weakness.”

One jumped forward and backed away just as fast.

Reece held his ground.

Having her at his back allowed him to focus on what was in front of him. There was no one whom he trusted more or wanted to protect as vehemently.

A pravus leaped from the side of the building toward him. He kept his blade still. The demon was within range, and he sliced through hair, flesh and bone. Both pieces fell to the street, oozing dark blood and gore.

Two remaining pravuses screeched and came forward together.

“Clockwise.”

“Yes.”

Neither Lillian nor he moved a muscle until the demons were too close to retreat.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

As one, they turned. Dorian stabbed a filthy beast in the eye.

Its screeching stopped, bloody puddles spilled onto the street.

He spun to help.

Lillian had skewered the final pravus like a pig ready for the spit.

She jerked her blade free and turned toward him.

Dorian drew her tight around the waist and kissed her hard.

With her back rigid, she returned the kiss as if her life depended on getting everything out of the contact. Her mouth opened for him and he dove inside, his tongue dancing and battling with hers until they were both breathless from more than killing demons.

She pressed her forehead to his. “We should clear these out of the street.”

He stooped to grab one by the hair. The footfalls of a small army stood him upright again.

A dozen or more trebox and malleus demons stormed down the street in their direction.

Dorian stood beside her. “This may be more than we can handle, Lilly.”

She nodded, took her crossbow from the loop on her belt, and loaded an arrow. She took aim and struck a malleus in the eye.

Its head bashed against the streetlamp as it went down.

Dorian pulled his pistol and shot a trebox in the chest.

Screams of pain and cries of war echoed down the alley.

Lilly’s arrow found another mark.

The demons closed in on them.

She dropped her bow and pulled her sai.

Dorian armed himself with sword and dirk. He sliced through the torso of a trebox, emptying its entrails on the ground. As he came around, a malleus barreled into him, knocking him to the bloody street. Pain shot across his ribs.