The Stone Warriors: Damian (30 page)

“Does Nico have the address?”

“Yes.”

“Send it to my phone as well. I’m taking no more chances.” He disconnected, then shoved the phone into his pocket and started for the door. Some instinct had him turning back to the table where his laptop, with its damning message, still stood open. And next to it, a Heckler & Koch MP5. The first gun he’d fired, the first gun he’d ever held in this reality or any other. And Cassandra had left it for him. It gave him hope, which was all he had to go on.

Well, that, and the fact that he was the greatest warrior alive today.

CASSANDRA FOUND it difficult to pay attention to what the nav was telling her, and had to backtrack more than once to make the right turn. She was so furious. With herself, with Damian, and even with Nick. All the years of loyal service she’d given that bastard and he’d pulled this crap on her. Damian, she could almost excuse. She knew about
esprit de corps
, and all the rest of it. She’d grown up hearing about the brotherhood of war, and about how a woman could never really understand such manly things. It was obvious that Nick and Damian had something similar going between them. She’d dismissed it as a bromance, but she’d known it was something much bigger. Nick held a special place in Damian’s heart and history, and it went well beyond simple loyalty. If Nick had asked his warrior not to tell her about something, Damian’s first instinct would be to obey. But that didn’t let him off the hook entirely. Maybe his gut reaction was obedience, but at some point his brain, and, God damn it, his heart, should have kicked in with a more reasoned response.

She’d begun to believe that they had something together, that she
meant
something to him. Would she never learn?

Men like that—alpha males like her father or her ex, and now Damian, too—no one was more important to them than their own selfish needs. And the moment someone else’s desires conflicted with their self-centered little worlds, they walked away without looking back.

Her needs meant nothing. It had been that way with her father, from the moment she’d informed him she would not be following the family tradition and enlisting in the military, but was instead joining the FBI. He’d looked at her as if she’d grown a second head, and then his eyes had gone cold and he’d walked out the door. That was the last time she’d heard from him.

And then there was her ex. Talk about a textbook daddy fixation. He’d been so much like her father, it was a wonder the two of them could exist in the same universe. And just like her father, he’d walked out of her life without a backward look the first time she’d disappointed him.

And now there was Damian. He was a warrior like her dad, and too handsome for his own good, just like her dad. She frowned. The analogy faltered there. She was the one walking away. But then, he’d lied to her, hadn’t he? Made her feel like an idiot. What choice had he left her? Was she supposed to wait in that hotel like a good little girl, until the big man came back and deigned to offer an explanation? She was sure he had a million reasons for what he’d done. They always did. They could disappoint you over and over again, never show up when they said they would, miss your recitals, your graduations, year after year. And that was okay. But if she slipped up one time . . . bam! Good-bye, nice knowing you.

Her phone rang. She glanced at the dash screen, expecting it to be Damian again. But it was Nick. She ignored him, too, touching the decline button. Two minutes later, another call came through, this one from Lilia. No surprise there. Nick would have recruited her to talk some sense into Casey.

“Lilia,” she answered.

“Casey, don’t do this. Don’t go in there alone.”

“I don’t know why not. I’ve been working alone for years. Hell, Nick’s the one who originally gave me this assignment with no backup. So why the sudden hysteria?”

“Because there’s more to it than Nick knew when he gave you that assignment. Come on, Case, you know that. You’re the one those hellhounds were chasing.”

“I’m not stupid,” she snapped, then immediately felt bad for doing it. None of this was Lilia’s fault. “Look, Lili, I’m not going to storm the ramparts alone. I’m just going to check the place out discreetly. If it’s nothing, like that last one, then we’ve wasted no one’s time but mine.”

“And if it’s something? If the Talisman’s in there?”

“Then I’ll sit on the house to make sure the Talisman doesn’t go anywhere, and I’ll call in reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements are already on the way. Nick and Damian, both. So why not wait—”

“Not
those
reinforcements. People I can trust. Terrell’s waiting to hear from me, and—”

“Casey, I love you, but you’re being an idiot. You can be pissed at the guy if you want, but Damian brings way more muscle to the game than Terrell ever could, and you know it. Not to mention Nick. And believe me, if—”

“Spare me the singing of Nick’s praises. And I know better than you what Damian can do, but I don’t
trust
either one of them.”

Lilia sighed loudly. “Casey. Baby. Wait for—”

“Too late. I’m here. And I’m going to scope the place out. If you don’t hear from me in an hour—”

“An hour?” Lilia scoffed. “Those two will be on you way before that.”

“You think so?” Casey asked, watching as the garage door rolled up on the suspicious house, and a black Escalade with tinted windows backed down the drive and headed her way. She disconnected the call, turned off her engine and ducked down behind the wheel. She wouldn’t be able to see them, but then, with those dark windows, she wouldn’t have been able to see anyone in the vehicle anyway. More importantly, though, she couldn’t risk them seeing
her
. The Escalade rolled past without stopping or even slowing down. Her Yukon fit right into the middle-class neighborhood, and it wasn’t distinctive enough to call any attention to itself.

The Escalade, on the other hand, looked like it belonged in the motorcade of a president or a rock star. But that wasn’t what made her slide carefully upright and snap a picture of the license plate before they turned the corner. No, what drew her attention, and what convinced her that this finally was the right place . . . was the fact that the Talisman was in the damn Escalade.

She reached down and pushed the starter button, wincing as the SUV’s powerful engine came to life. But the Escalade was already gone, and no one at the house seemed to be paying any attention to the street. She executed a quick U-turn and went after the Escalade, inching forward at the intersection to be sure they were really gone, before she turned to follow. And then she called Lilia.

“Casey!” she answered. “Are you—?”

“I’m still fine, and I have a plate number for you.” She started to read it off, but changed her mind. “I’ll just text you the picture.”

“Whose car is it?” Lili asked.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the Talisman is on board. And I’m following it right now.”

“Let me get the guys—”

“I’ll lose it if I wait. You’ve got the plate, and I’ll check in when I can.” Then she hung up again. She hated doing that to Lilia, knowing she’d worry. But she couldn’t deal with the other woman’s mother-henning right now. She had the best of intentions, but Casey was an experienced operative. She sure as hell knew how to tail a suspect without getting caught.

The Escalade was easy to follow. Partly because of the thin early morning traffic, but also because it didn’t belong. High-end SUV’s were something drug dealers drove in this neighborhood, not hardworking folk. She hung back as far as she could, not wanting them to notice her. Her truck might fit in, but she still had to assume the driver was a professional. If he noticed the
same
truck in his rearview mirror, mile after mile, he might get suspicious. And she didn’t want these people suspicious. She wanted them comfortable and secure, confident enough to take the Talisman wherever they needed it to be in order to complete their attack, so that she and her team would have a chance of snatching it before people started dying.

DAMIAN STRODE OUT of the hotel, blade on his back and MP5 in his hand. His sword was invisible in its enchanted scabbard, but the gun wasn’t, and he was grateful when Nico pulled up before anyone had a chance to act on their alarm. Nico leaned over and opened the door before the car had even stopped, and Damian slid inside, dragging the door shut as they raced away with a crackling roar of the powerful engine.

“What the hell happened?” Nico asked, glancing at the in-dash display before making a tire-squealing turn onto the main road.

“As best I can tell, Cassandra woke and found me gone, and then somehow discovered that I’d slipped away to meet you without telling her. She cleared out of the room completely, and she won’t answer my calls.”

“What the hell is she thinking, taking this on alone?”

“She’s thinking she can’t trust us.”

“It was only one fucking meeting.”

“She doesn’t know that.”

“She’ll understand once we find her, and you have a chance to explain. The good news is that she shouldn’t be too far ahead of us. The bad news . . . Lilia’s pretty convinced this latest address is the real deal.”

“I should have told her I was meeting you. I shouldn’t have just left,” Damian muttered.

“You had your reasons, brother. We both did.”

“They’ll mean nothing if Cassandra gets hurt . . . or worse.”

“That’s not going to happen. We won’t let it.”

Damian gave him a bleak look. “We know better, Nico. Things happen, whether we want them to or not.”

“Not this time,” Nico said viciously. “I swear it, Damian. Not this time.”

CASEY WATCHED THE Escalade turn into the driveway of a house that had seen better days. At least on the outside. The lawn was mostly dirt and old car parts, and the short driveway was cracked and overgrown with weeds. But the garage door slid up smoothly and quietly, closing behind the big SUV almost before the bumper cleared the space. She drove on by, just in case there was anyone watching, then circled the block and parked on a side street. She had no view of the house from there, but she wasn’t planning any long-term surveillance. She wouldn’t be practicing her cat burglar skills either. She’d already gone head-to-head with these people too many times in the last few days and, despite Damian’s help, she hadn’t made much progress. The thought of Damian was like a weight on her heart, and she pushed him out of her thoughts. It was an effort, but she wasn’t going to think about him tonight. Eventually, she’d have to brief both him and Nick on what she found, but for now, she set everything aside except what she needed to accomplish the present task, which was gathering information.

Sotiris’s people knew she was on to them by now, and they’d be waiting for her, expecting her to make a play for the Talisman before they could use it. They’d have a much heavier and much more alert guard on the device, wherever it was, which ruled out her sneaking in a window and snatching the thing as she had before. There was also the very strong possibility that Sotiris himself was in that house, maybe even in the Escalade she’d been following, and she wasn’t ego-driven enough to take him on by herself. But she gave herself credit. If she hadn’t acted as quickly as she had when Lilia called her, she would have missed the Escalade’s departure from the other house. Instead of locating the Talisman and following it to the present hiding spot, she’d be sitting on her hands, watching another empty house.

By now, Lilia would have alerted Nick, and probably Damian, too. There was a tracker in her cell phone—standard equipment for all of Nick’s hunters—which meant reinforcements were on the way. But that didn’t mean she had to do nothing but wait. If she was careful, she could save everyone some time by gathering the information they’d need to breach the house’s security.

She turned off her engine, then lowered her window and listened. It was something people rarely did anymore. The world had become such a noisy place that people were more interested in tuning it out than listening in. But you could tell a lot by listening. Especially in an old and established neighborhood like this. These few blocks probably saw a disproportionate amount of crime, which would seem to make it a perfect place for the bad guys to set up shop. But no matter how bad they were, they wouldn’t fit in, and the local people would notice. As she sat there, she noted the same discrepancy with the sounds of the neighborhood as she had with the garage door. Just as the garage door had been too solid, its functioning too slick for the disreputable house, so the neighborhood was too quiet, even for this late at night. Hell,
especially
for this late at night. This was when criminals did some of their best work. So where were they?

Her guess was that the local bad guys had been warned off by the new crooks on the block. Either they’d been told to lay low—and had suffered a demonstration of the consequences—or Sotiris had placed a suppressing spell on the few square blocks surrounding the house. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she opened her senses, casting a wide net . . . and found it within seconds. It was stupid of Sotiris to use something so blunt, so obvious to someone with her particular sensitivity and training. He’d been too sure of himself, too certain he’d misdirected her investigation, and too determined to avoid a police presence, what with him plotting to shut down the Chicago air corridor and kill thousands of people from the rundown two-bedroom building down the block.

She ran her window back up, then opened the door and walked around to the back of the SUV to change clothes. Her jeans would work well enough, but she donned a black, oversized and fleece-lined hoodie. The nighttime air was cold, but that’s not why she did it. Mostly she wanted to conceal her silhouette with the bulky clothes, and hide her face with the hood. It also happened to fit into the clothing style of the one or two people still on the street, though for all she knew, they could be working for Sotiris. The man hadn’t survived this long by playing loose with his security.

Slamming the cargo hatch, she locked the doors, dropped the remote into an inside pocket of her jacket, and started off down the street, walking fast, as if she had someplace to go and wanted to get there. She headed away from the house first, turning for the alley that ran behind the yards. There were no streetlights back there, and very few houses offered anything more. One or two had weak lights over their back doors, but those did little more than add movement to the shadows. Casey stuck to the far side of the alley, ignoring the occasional barking dog and hoping the noise wouldn’t draw any attention.