Absolution (4 page)

Shit, this wasn’t a simply seek-and-grab mission. It was Operation Weed Out. Did he have the only instructions to eliminate subversives or was he on a list one of the others held? If there was only one list, if he was the one most trusted, that simplified his plan.

Yeah, right. He hadn’t run into simple once in the last several years. “A spy?”

“Or something else, something not human.”

“And if I ferret out the traitor?”

“Erase him, or them.”

He nodded and glanced over his shoulder. Talk about making his job easier. He had been given free license to eradicate one or all of his team. He bit back a smile, joined
his
team, and spread the map out on a collapsible table.

They gathered around, and he studied each member, deciding which order he would kill them. He couldn’t allow them near the healer. Damn, his situation with the Brotherhood just kept getting better and better. His mission had expanded to protecting a healer and saving her from Farley. If that was the full extent of the job, he might be okay.

But Farley had more on his mind than curing his followers. His end game involved the healer.

To gain Farley’s confidence, or at least sufficient trust to be assigned this mission, Luc had stayed close to the leader. This was his chance to prove his worth and possibly gain admittance to his inner circle. Then he would cut the head off the serpent.

How much would he risk to fulfill this command and his mission? Could he afford to sacrifice what was left of his soul? No, not even to save the healer. He wanted rebirth.

He eyed his team. He needed to contact Fritz, ASAP.

Magickal damper notwithstanding, he couldn’t use telepathy. With either Rice or one of Farley’s inner circle of daemons always around him, Luc had been unable to contact him. Even if they couldn’t hear his communication, the connection might leave a trace they could taste. Skulking around, making dead drops, struggling to stay current with Deva’s teams location had taken a greater toll on him than his mock illness.

Loss of his telepathy had severely handicapped him in this operation. Funny how he’d only had it activated six months, yet in that first month his telepathy had become a part of him. Now unable to use the new skill, he experienced the phantom pain of missing a limb.

For the first time, he felt alone—and hated it. He had told Deva to stay out of his mind, and she had. Yet on occasion when he awoke, he swore she sent him warmth, encouragement, and an indiscernible promise.

Goddess above, what was wrong with him? Now that Deva obeyed his demand to stay out of his head, he missed her. He bit back a snort. Life was a bitch when you get what you ask for.

CHAPTER 4

Luc scanned the small hamlet. Two days of hard, winter driving along the back mountain roads of West Virginia where no snowplows drove and an occasional battle with those fucking grass-faced demons, they had finally arrived.

The van rolled to a stop and he climbed out. “The diner’s open. Let’s get something to eat before we pick up Earl and retrieve the package.” Now all he had to do was save the injured child, her mother, and kill Farley’s spies before they killed him.

Yeah, nothing to it. A snap.

“Their burgers and fries are great,” Crocker said.

He glanced back at the big man. “You know this place?”

“Yeah, I come from here. We’re usin’ my sister’s kid as bait. Sure hope Earl didn’t hurt her too bad.”

Luc froze. Shit, Crocker had offered up his family as the lure. What kind of man did that? A sadist.
Not hurt her too bad
? Think again.

Farley trusted Crocker.

Crap.

“You know Earl?”

“Yeah, he’s a buddy. Sure hope he took care of that bleeding heart brother-in-law.”

“He did.” Luc swallowed back his disgust and moved away from the vehicle to survey the town square. Except for the diner, the town seemed to roll up its sidewalks at six in the evening. At the deserted square and the sight of two people seated in the diner, he bit back the urge to call out, “Six thirty and all’s quiet.”

Other than their four pairs of boots shuffling, silence reigned. His eyes narrowed on an all too familiar statue form posed in the fountain of the center plaza. Imitating The Thinker, a smile played at the corners of Fritz’s chiseled lips. Streetlights reflected off his gleaming dove gray eyes. It took all Luc’s self-control to smother his laughter as water pelted Fritz’s granite features.

“God damn, that’s one ugly statue,” Ted said.

Darkness below, he wanted to get rid of Ted tonight and not wait. No way, he could afford to let that rapist near the healer. He grimaced. No, it’d be safer to get rid of Rice at the same time. Fritz could take him out tonight while he handled Ted. Too bad, he couldn’t get rid of Crocker, but he needed at least one norm to return with him. Otherwise, Farley would identify him as a plant.

“Thought the township was out of money. ‘Cause that statue wasn’t here last month when I visited my sis.” Crocker walked over to Fritz and poked him. “He’s sure lifelike. Don’t feel like stone, neither.”

“Probably a gift from some fucking Fae.” As they pulled their weapons, Luc stepped between them and Fritz. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Knowing those fuckers, they’ve probably placed a rebound curse on the thing. Wouldn’t stand too close.”

As the two men backed away, his gaze zeroed in on Rice. The lanky, black-haired daemon stood transfixed, unable to break eye contact with Fritz. His only movement—rapid swallowing. His glamour had slipped enough that the dilated pupils of his normally brown eyes had turned a red-black. His complexion reflected a shade lighter than the gargoyle’s.

Shit, he knew and was terrified. With good reason. Gargoyles feasted on demons, and high level ones like daemons were a special treat.

Luc moved to the side, keeping all three adversaries in his field of vision. “You three get the food. I want to take a look around, check this place out.” At Rice’s arched eyebrow and smirk, he frowned. “From the looks of the sky, we’re in for another major storm. Once we recover the healer, we may be stuck in your sister’s cabin for a while.”

Rice motioned Ted and Crocker toward the diner. “You two go. Luc and I need to talk some strategy.”

“That statue’s sure givin’ you the creeps, ain’t it, Rice?”

Rice grabbed Ted by the throat. “Nothing gives me the creeps except idiots like you.” He shoved him into Crocker’s chest. “Luc and I need to iron out how we take the healer and keep her from turning her magick on us. If she can heal, she can kill.”

Ted puffed out his chest. “We know our jobs.”

“So does Earl,” Crocker growled.

“Yeah, but we need her alive. And if she’s Fae—” Luc lowered his head until his nose almost touched Ted’s. “—one look at you two, your beer bellies, greasy hair, and tats, and she’ll teleport the hell away. Then where will we be? Dead. ‘Cause Farley doesn’t accept failure. We’ll meet in the van.”

Grumbling, the two bikers trotted across the street to the diner, and Rice faced him and Fritz. “I don’t know what game you and the gargoyle are playing, Druid, but whatever it is, Farley’s mine.”

Luc scowled, refusing to back away from the implied threat. “What the hell are you talking about, Daemon? I’m not a Druid.”

“Sure you are. You’re Lucan, descended from the House of Turn, son of Marduk and Naidra, first daughter of the Coven of Adrametum. You’ve got a lot of magick running through you, kid. Your parents were good people, sorry to hear about their deaths. Guess the sigils they placed on you after your birth worked.” He inhaled deeply and smiled. “Your scent is theirs combined—unique, earthy.”

Luc’s gaze met Rice’s and his world turned on its axis. Darkness below, who the hell was this daemon? “You don’t know shit. I don’t have a mark on me, and my parents would never have associated with a daemon.”

“Sure they would. My clan chose to stay on Earth, to live the good life and not return to the Abyss after the last Great War.” He shuddered. “Hate that dry, hot place and loathe the Dark Lord. You know, not all daemons are evil or support the Abyss. As for the sigils, they were made from ash. I watched them paint them on your forehead and on the seven other chakra points. Even added some of my mojo to ensure you couldn’t be read as a magick by anyone other than those you consider family or your soul mate. It was the damnedest thing. Those sigils melted under your skin and into your bones.”

He forced himself to remember Rice was a daemon. They weren’t to be trusted. Liar was their first, middle, and last name, probably even their magick call name. Sure Rice had heard of his parents—they were famous within the supernatural world—but no way he knew them or knew jack about them.

Luc being branded by ash sigils? Everyone knew that shit didn’t work. “Trying to stay off the gargoyle’s menu by claiming you’re a good guy and Farley’s worse than demons?”

“Yes, no, yes. Farley no more belongs in the Brotherhood than we do, and you two know it. He’s also more dangerous than you think.”

“So you say. Why do you want him dead? Farley’s dividing and conquering the humans. Hell, he’s one of the Abyss’ greatest assets.”

“He wiped out my entire clan,” the Daemon snarled. Red had conquered the black in his eyes. A wad of spittle hit the base of the fountain and sizzled.

“How?” A scowl cracked between Fritz’s brows. “It’d better be good if you want to make it through the night.”

“Farley’s a half-breed daemon. With Gulgari Clan power in his veins, his powers are twisted.” At Fritz’s harsh intact of air, Rice glanced at him. “You know all about the Gulgari, don’t you? They draw in magickal beings to survive, suck the essence right out of them.” He sneered. “Don’t expect to see those three daemons in his inner circle more than a few days. Not with the way he’s wasting away. His hunger will get the best of him.”

“Come again? He was a famous linebacker in both college and the NFL.” The truth of Rice’s words crept through Luc’s doubt.

“The more magickal energy he draws, the younger he gets. He allows himself to age normally for a while, and then he disappears or seemingly dies, finds heavy magick to replenish him and a day later appears, usually looking around ten or younger.”

Luc’s throat closed, ice crystallized in his veins, battling with the sweat racing down his back as an uncontrollable wave of panic erupted. He stared at Rice in disbelief. A nudge from his memory slowly filtered into his consciousness. With a silent click, it snapped in his brain. The right eye and hand had twitched of the man who'd killed his parents as he’d entered their home.

He had written off that trait as belonging to someone elderly. Given Farley’s youth, he didn’t match the images in Luc’s memories. Yet there had always been something about Farley that had gnawed at him. Now he knew why.

Rice crossed his arms over his chest with another uncertain glance at Fritz. “When he’s done, there’s nothing left but—”

“A husk to blow away in the wind.” Luc swallowed hard and struggled to quell the sense of the déjà vu.

“I see you’ve witnessed his handy work.”

“Yeah, very close to home.” Literally. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the reality that the monster who’d invaded his home and killed his parents, the monster he had hunted for twenty years, the monster who’d haunted his nightmares since childhood, was Farley. Yet every word Rice had spoken synched with the heat of truth coursing through his body. “He’s mine.”

Within a blink of an eye, Rice had him by the throat. “Sorry, kid. Not negotiable. I’ve tracked this son of a bitch for over two hundred years—thirty of my family, children, even infants were absorbed. What’d he get from you? Parents? A sibling or two?”

Luc remained frozen. He could take the daemon, but a small part of the ice melted as the man vented his fury. Fury Luc understood too well. Not that he was willing to be manhandled by a daemon. He would give Rice one minute to release him and then let him experience the consequences of touching a Druid without permission.

At Fritz’s low growl, Rice dropped his hold and stepped back with his hands raised, palms out. “Take a number and stand in line, Lucan.”

Luc let the comment go. “How have you avoided Farley detecting you aren’t a norm?”

“You think you’re the only ones with dampeners?” He glanced at Fritz and took a couple more steps backward. “If you two expect to save the healer, we need to get rid of Ted, Crocker, and Earl.”

Luc met Fritz’s grin and sent him an image of what he wanted. “You ready to play?”

“Oh, yeah. I love being a diverting diversion.”

***

Luc faced the diner and watched the two bikers clomp across the street. Ted’s hands clasped four bags of food and Crocker juggled four extra-large, lidded Styrofoam cups of coffee. Probably never occurred to them to ask for a cardboard carrier. “Here they come.”

“I thought we was gonna to meet at the van.” Ted tossed Luc and Rice their bags of food. “What’s the deal? Why you still here? Thought y’all was strategizin’.”

“We were, until—” Luc jerked his thumb at Fritz. “I swear I saw it move. We’ve been standing here studying it for the past ten minutes.”