Devil's Paw (Imp Book 4) (34 page)

“Hey, guys. What are you hoping to catch today?”

I was no angler, but I’d gotten quite a taste for the local fish up in Alaska, and I’d spent a lot of time in this area a few decades ago. If they caught something good, maybe I could buy it off them and eat it during my ride back to the airport.

The two exchanged looks, one mumbling something under his breath, the other shrugging. “Rockfish,” he replied, turning his back on me to grab a beer out of the cooler.

I frowned. The rockfish population around here was really low. Most people went for salmon. With the Fraser River emptying into the Strait, salmon was available all year around. They could easily reel in a ten to thirty–pound catch.

The two guys made their way to the front of the boat. In spite of their decent sea legs, they really did look like yuppies on vacation. Tan, neatly creased shorts, and crisp polo shirts contrasted with Skip’s worn, multi–pocketed pants and bait–shop t–shirt. Moneyed tourists, no doubt.

Skip fired up the engines, while I helped untie the boat, tossing the ropes to the dock. The water was choppy as we pulled away, but not overly rough. Leaving the marina, we hugged the edges of the bay, traveling south around the tip of Lumm Island before picking up speed northward, into open water. I counted the islands on my left until I’d reached five, then we veered around for a landing on the tiny bit of green that must be Oak Island. According to the map I had stashed in the trunk of my rental car, we were over the Saltish Sea, approximately twenty miles from Bellingham.

Oak Island was smaller than all the islands we’d passed, a mere strip of land oddly placed in the middle of vast water. The dark–blue sea became greenish–brown as our boat approached the island, indicating the decreasing depth of the water. Narrow sandy beaches rimmed the flat land that otherwise seemed to be bursting with thick tree cover. We pulled up to a small wooden dock, paint peeling on the splintered boards and posts.

According to the guidebook, Oak Island was about one hundred acres, which wouldn’t have been difficult to explore except for the dense forest. I calculated how much I could get done in the half–day charter the fishing guys had paid for. If someone were using this island, they’d have to land a boat somewhere, and this dock was probably the only one. A small skiff could land right on the beach, but transporting goods, and demons, would require some kind of road or path. I strained my eyes as we looped past the dock to cut around so we could pull alongside the pier. There appeared to be a small deer track leading into the woods, but nothing significant. My heart sank. Perhaps the mage’s threat to Baphomet’s crazy neighbor had just been a joke. I hated the thought that I’d delayed my trip home, wasted my time on a wild goose chase. I was here, though. Might as well spend a few hours exploring the island just to put this one to rest. I’d paid for this charter. It would take me probably all of thirty minutes to walk the whole thing. I guessed I could relax on the beach and work on my tan until Skip came back to pick me up.

Skip pulled the boat in nose front. I frowned, perplexed. The boat would be more stable tied to the dock front and back at the side. I was no expert, so when he motioned for me to disembark from the front of the boat, I just shrugged and walked forward to squeeze my way past the two fishermen. That’s when all hell broke loose.

I felt the brush of something against my hair and instinctively ducked, slamming a shoulder into hairless guy. Before I could apologies, I felt the touch of something cold on my neck and the slippery sensation dipping below my skin toward my stash of raw energy. My quick movement had kept the collar from fully encircling my neck and connecting. Before carpet head could rectify that, I kicked out with one foot, missing his knee, but nailing him hard in the shin.

He stumbled backwards, tripping over the beer cooler and landing on the deck. Yanking off the partially attached collar, I threw it overboard and launched myself at hairless.

“Hey, not on my boat. Not on my boat!” Skip protested. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, scrambling toward the back and away from the fray.

Hairless was stronger than he looked. He braced himself against the back of one of the cockpit seats and absorbed my rush, slamming a fist into my kidneys before wrapping his arms around me in a tight hold.

“Collar her,” he shouted to carpet head.

It was probably at the bottom of the sea, and I was hoping they only had the one. My limited options raced through my head. With no collar, my demon skills were still available. I could easily overpower these guys, but Skip didn’t seem to be running to my aid. Three dead humans was a whole lot of four–nine–five reports, and I wasn’t sure I could pilot this boat, let alone figure out my way back to Bellingham. I could ditch them and transform into something small, swift, and four–legged once on the island. It was my best option. Escape, transform into a tiger shark, swim east until I hit land then wander around as a naked human until I found the marina and my car. It sucked, but it was better than the prospect of having to justify their deaths to the Ruling Council.

The split–second it took to make my decision gave carpet head time to get me in a choke hold with one arm, and slam my side with his other fist. I was being squashed between the two guys, with Skip distraught over his boat, looking on. I poured a low–level burst of electricity from every pour, happy to hear both men yelp in pain and shock. Carpet head let go, so I smashed my newly released head into hairless, hearing a satisfying crunch as it hit his nose.

Free. I elbowed carpet head, who was behind me, sending him overboard with a splash, and vaulted the cabin, leaping off the front of the boat and onto the dock as the pair shouted. There was no time to change forms, so I sprinted for the deer path, only a few feet away from the narrow beach. I hit the edge of the woods and spun about as something invisible slammed into me. There was a flash. By the time my eyes cleared, I’d stumbled into what, from the beach, appeared to be dense forest. It wasn’t. Like an idiot, I stood and gawked, my mad dash to safety forgotten. Before me was a compound spanning at least four acres. The buildings were no more than three stories. A dozen dirt bikes were parked out to the side along with a utility vehicle and a pick–up truck — all hidden by the false vision of foliage.

I had only a second to stare in astonishment before I realized that I’d probably triggered some kind of security alarm when I breached the perimeter. And the guys from the boat were probably right on my tail or had contacted everyone at the compound to let them know I was on the island, I dashed toward the motorbikes, thinking this would be the fastest way to outpace them. I jumped on one and frantically tried to determine how to start the damned thing.

Three figures, holding guns, ran from one of the buildings just as I got the bike running and into gear.

I headed for the road and the forest beyond, thinking I could transform into something native to the island as soon as I got far enough away. I briefly wondered why the men with guns weren’t shooting, as I felt a series of wires snatch me backwards off the bike and slam me into the ground. A mage. I probed the edges of the net and realized that this one was of far better construction than the one that had nabbed me in downtown Frederick. Not a mage; a sorcerer. No wonder the guys hadn’t bothered shooting.

Thrashing blindly in the net, I heard the elvish chant that swirled in my head and numbed my mind. In the last seconds before unconsciousness, I called for the Sword of the Iblis to come to me. I’d broken a sorcerer’s net before with it, and as much as I hated to use the ancient artifact here where I might accidently shoot and kill the humans, I knew I didn’t want to get caught by these guys.

Nothing appeared.

I pulled on the red–purple that networked through me and tried to summon Gregory while struggling to remain conscious and tugging at the net. He didn’t come. My head buzzed and lolled to the side, my hands numb and useless.

“This one is really strong, and she came to us. The angel will be very pleased.” It was the last thing I heard before darkness overtook me.

~30~

I
came to consciousness naked and chained to huge metal rings embedded in a concrete floor. Naked was unsettling enough without the damp, dungeon–like surroundings. Why the hell had they removed my clothing? And chained? As a demon, I could easily turn the metal into any substance of my choosing. Wet noodles was my choice today.

Reaching within, to my store of raw energy, I encountered the slippery stuff angels use to block our powers. There was no angel touching me at the moment, so, with a sense of dread, I reached up to my neck. My fingers felt a collar. The thin band of energy surrounded more than my skin; it sunk down into my spirit being and denied all attempts to pull from my stash of energy.

“You won’t be able to get it off,” a raspy voice said. “And you won’t be able to fix any injuries you sustain while trying.”

“Why am I naked? Did they do this to you too, or am I special?”

I heard a gritty chuckle. “Me too. Someone told me one of the first demons tore up his clothing and passed the strips around for weapons. They attacked the guards, using them as whips and nooses, so now everyone that comes in here is naked.”

I squinted into the darkness at a shape off to my left. “I’m Az.”

The shape moved and I made out a gaunt face, streaks of what I assumed to be blood trailing from his neck down over a bony chest.

“I’m Stab.” The face inched closer until the chains holding the demon were stretched full length. “Are you the imp? The one with the sword? The one that devou …I mean, killed Haagenti?”

“That’s me.” Once again I tried to summon my sword, tried to summon Gregory, to no avail.

Stab shook his head. “There’s no hope for me if they’ve managed to ensnare you. I’m next, anyway. The last one here.”

“How many others were there?”

He sighed. “Three in the group I came with. From what I hear, there have been hundreds. All dead except for the one that escaped.”

“Who escaped?”

“Said his name was Raim.” The demon laughed, a hoarse sound that echoed from the walls of our cell. “Caused quite a stir. Turns out he devoured. He killed one of the angels and managed to use the little bit of energy that had somehow escaped the collar to get off the island.”

I felt the stirring of hope in my chest. If Raim managed to make it out of here, perhaps I could too.

“They locked down security tight after that.” Stab’s eyes glowed as he turned toward me. “But they’re really nervous about devouring spirits. Might be of help to you. If the rumors are true, that is.”

“No. The rumors are not true,” I lied. Gregory had forbidden me from devouring, but it might be my only way out. There were always exceptions to every rule, always circumstances when even supposedly vile acts were justified.

“Shame.” The demon looked around the dim room. “They killed off the guy who was bringing us over from Hel and ended their supply. Until they find a new demon to partner with, we’re all they’ve got.”

“What are they doing with us?”

“I don’t know. I just know we don’t come back,” Stab whispered, fear in his voice.

I again tried to summon either my sword or my angel, struggled to find even the slightest bit of raw energy I could access. The desperation in Stab’s voice, his utter despair had me on the edge of panic.

“Did you get a good look at the compound and the layout when they brought you in? Do you know where we are in this building and where an exit might be?” I’d only briefly seen the exteriors before they’d knocked me out. If there was even a slim chance of escape, I’d be better positioned to take it knowing which direction to run.

“We’re in a big block building in the center of the compound. I remember four sets of stairs down, then a right into this room. I think we’re pretty far underground.”

That made sense from the dampness on the walls. We were on an island at sea level. The fact that they’d managed to get a structure this deep, a compound this complex without anyone noticing, was impressive. I’d seen the elves demonstrate amazing architectural feats, so I wouldn’t put it past the group to be employing magical means beyond the illusion of forest.

“I came over for a vacation, a bit of fun.” Stab turned to me again, his fear contagious, snaking its way inside me. “I’m not very strong — almost a Low. Whatever they have planned for me, I know I won’t survive it.”

I turned away before he could see the tears in my eyes. I had no words to comfort him with. I couldn’t even manage to get myself out of this mess, let alone try and save someone else. There had to be something, some tiny little detail our captors had missed, something I could exploit. I just needed to find it. Slumping to the floor, I ran my hands carefully over its surface as far as my chains allowed, trying to find an object, anything I could use to free myself physically. The floor was cement. It felt like it had been poured and raked, the expected smooth surface grooved in lines. There were no loose bits, no stones to pry from the surface. I crawled back and forth in a grid pattern, wincing as the grooves in the floor tore at the skin of my knees. Nothing.

I carefully felt each link of my chains with my hands and found them solid, thick metal. The rings were embedded deep into the floor. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were connected to something stronger beneath the concrete. Wanting to cover every option, I felt along the wall, noting that some areas had small rivulets of water running from the ceiling far out of my reach to the floor below. There must be drains somewhere or we’d be in standing water. I hoped the wet walls didn’t mean the whole thing was on the verge of collapse. With the collar around my neck, I wouldn’t be able to change form, or escape a flooding room. I’d drown, or be buried by the building above. It would be a sad way for a demon to die, but it probably wasn’t any better than what waited on the other side of that door.

There was only one way I was going to get out of here. I carefully prodded the slippery energy coating my own, searching for a weakness. Even as powerful as Gregory was, he couldn’t contain my huge store of energy outside of Aaru. If he’d left gaps, then somewhere, this angel had too. If I could just find a gap, no matter how tiny, I might be able to pull enough energy aside to get myself out of this fix. Hopefully I’d have the days it would take to accumulate enough. Even if I found a hole, it would take me time to amass any kind of usable energy. If they came for me in a few hours, I probably wouldn’t have enough to light a match.