Retribution (Dark-Hunter #19)

Retribution (Dark-Hunter #19) Page 4

Ren Waya coasted on the breeze as he heard the heartbeat of the earth thrumming in his ears. It sounded like a tribal drum, summoning the ancient spirits out of their slumber to make ready for war. And as he flew, Sister Wind carried a new scent to him. One he'd never smelled before, and given his extreme old age, that said a lot.

Something was here, and it didn't belong.

Unable to pinpoint it, he dipped down, then recognized a rider on the road far below. The motorcycle slowed from its feral speed as the rider came upon the Vegas traffic and lights. Ren let out a cry while he followed the sleek black motorcycle into town.

Swathed in a black duster, the rider was oblivious of being watched. Of course, the loud, thumping music inside the rider's helmet that was turned to a level that should be deafening might have something to do with that. Styx's "Renegade." The irony of that wasn't lost on Ren. If he could smile in his current form, he would.

The rider skimmed past traffic and turned into the brightly lit Ishtar Casino, which was styled after an ancient Sumerian temple. Ren lost sight of the rider as he drove under the parking pavilion. He banked to the right to miss the wall and circled back.

Jess pulled his helmet off before he gave his name to the valet.

The attendant snapped to attention. "Mr. Brady, sir, we were told to give you white-glove treatment. You may park your bike anywhere you want, and we'll make sure no one bothers it. If you have any problems or needs, have the concierge contact Damien Metaxas, and he'll take care of it for you."

A man could get used to this level of service-it was like being at Disney World. "Thanks," he said, then handed the valet a twenty.

Jess slid into a tight space at the front of the line of cars and limos, where his motorcycle should be out of the way, then parked his 2006 MV Agusta F4CC on the curb. At $120,000 a pop, his ride was a gold mine for any thief who had knowledge of motorcycles. Not that the money was that big a deal to him. Replacing it, however, was another matter, since they were as rare as a loyal friend, and he'd long grown attached to it.

Hate to gut a human for being greedy. But back in the day, he'd done worse for less.

He locked it down, put his helmet on the seat, then dropped the keys in his pocket. It was a little warm for his duster, but he preferred it, since it helped hide the weapons he needed for his trade. No need in scaring the civilians any more than was necessary.

Bad thing about Vegas, you couldn't spit without dropping germs on a Daimon. They practically owned this place. In fact, three of the valet drivers here were Apollites, including the one who'd spoken to him. And the casino manager, Damien Metaxas was, in fact, a full-blown Daimon that no Dark-Hunter was allowed to kill. They claimed Metaxas fed only on humans who deserved to die-rapists, murderers, pedophiles. But why would you take their word on it? Was anyone really checking?

Even when the casino owner, Sin, was a Dark-Hunter, he'd had them working for him.

"You're a sick SOB, Sin," Jess muttered as he pulled his sunglasses out and put them on.

Keep your enemies close, I guess. Still ...

"You're late."

Jess grinned, making sure to keep his fangs from showing as he did so. He turned at the deep, accented voice that had come from behind him. "Didn't know Grandma was keeping tabs and setting curfew."

Two inches taller, Ren had his long, jet black hair pulled back into a single braid that trailed down his back. Even without that pissed-off expression, he was intimidating as all get out. At least to those who could be intimidated.

Jess definitely didn't fit into that category.

The only color on Ren's body was the bone and turquoise choker he wore as an homage to his Native American heritage-other than that, he was swathed all in black from head to toe. Jess asked him once what tribe he belonged to, but Ren had refused to answer. Since it didn't matter to Jess, he'd never asked again, even though they'd been friends for well over a hundred years.

Jess scratched at his whiskers, wishing he'd shaved a little closer. "I thought you were communing with Chocolate tonight."

Ren shook his head. "Choo Co La Tah."

"Isn't that what I said?"

Now, there was a pained expression for you. It was quite impressive. "For a man who was born speaking Cherokee, I don't understand why you can't pronounce things correctly."

"Ah, potato, potahto. Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things?"

"It does if you ever come into contact with him. Believe me, your mixed Cherokee blood won't buy you any tolerance where he's concerned."

Yeah, that was the thing about immortals. Many of them weren't exactly good natured. Many more were downright intolerant. And as for Choo Co La Tah, Jess was more than acquainted with him, but it was one of those things he never talked about. "Then I'll just make sure that I call him Exalted Being."

Ren laughed. "Wise choice."

Jess decided to change the topic to what had bothered him a few minutes ago. "So was that you flying above me as I rode in?"

"You saw me?"

Jess shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't you know, I sense everything around me." Even before Artemis had bestowed him with psychic powers, that was one ability he'd had from birth. No one had ever been able to sneak up on him.

Pulling a gun behind his back and shooting him was another story. Only someone as close to him as Bart had been could have killed him that way. Had Bart been a stranger, it would never have happened.

"And here I thought I was being stealthy."

Jess snorted. "With that girly caw you let out? Did a frog crawl down your throat and die, or what?"

Ren let out a short heh sound. "You better be glad I like you."

"I am indeed, for I have seen how you throw a knife, and it is truly awe inspiring. Now, if you don't mind..." Jess started away from him. If they stayed together too long, they'd deplete each other's strength. It was a fail-safe the gods used to keep Dark-Hunters from combining their powers and taking over mankind.

"Wait."

Jess paused.

"Choo Co La Tah wanted to warn me that something unnatural is coming from the west."

The direction of death for the Cherokee. He didn't know if Ren's people had the same beliefs as his mother's or not. "Yeah, okay. I'll watch for Daimons coming up the street."

"This is serious, Jess. We're nearing the Time Untime when everything resets. Of all men, you know what happens if things get misaligned."

Yes, he did. The Mayans weren't the only ancient Americans who had calendars. Many of the tribes had similar rotating cycles, including the Cherokee. "2012 ain't here yet."

"No, but the return of the Pale One has been sped up by whatever is coming. Be careful tonight."

Now, this was getting annoying, with everyone pecking at him like a bunch of hens. "Andy told me the same thing earlier."

"Two warnings. One night."

Time to listen. He understood. Too bad he hadn't had these warnings before he was gunned down as a human. That would have been a little more helpful than vague warnings to someone who was basically immortal and impervious now. But then, life was ever a study in a day late and a dollar short. "All right. I'll pay attention."

Ren inclined his head to him. "Good, 'cause you're the only reason I'm here, and I'd hate to think I uprooted myself needlessly." When Jess had been transferred out here a few weeks back, Ren asked to come, too. "Don't make me have to spirit-walk to cut your throat."

Jess snorted at the threat. "Got to say, dying would really wreck my best day. Been there, done that, and now that I think about it, Artemis forgot to give me the T-shirt."

Ren rolled his eyes. "You're psychotic."

"And we're down a Hunter, so we need to get patrolling before the Daimons start feeding."

Ren waved his hand in front of him and spoke a blessing in his native tongue.

Jess didn't understand it, but he appreciated the gesture. "Same to you, di-na-da-nv-tli." And with that, he started for the infamous strip, which was teeming with clueless tourists just waiting to become a walking Happy Meal for a Daimon.

Jess kept his pace leisurely as he used every sense he had to feel for any unnatural predator that was out and about. There was a strange vibe to the city, and it made him wonder about the depletion of the DH here.

The owner of the Ishtar Casino, Sin, he discounted from that list. Sin had fallen in love with one of Artemis's handmaidens and been redeemed from their service. So his was a happy exodus.

Lionel, Renee, and Pavel had all died over the last few months. Supposedly by bad luck. Lionel and Renee by not making it home before dawn. Pavel had been decapitated in a freak car wreck. At least, that was the official story.

After what Andy and Ren had said, Jess now wondered how accurate that was.

Two other Dark-Hunters had been moved in to replace those killed in action. Syra, who was better known as Yukon Jane, and Rogue, an Englishman whose proper speech belied his extremely psychotic ways. That boy definitely wasn't right.

Made him wonder who they'd move in to replace Lionel.

Guess I'll find out.

A pretty blonde walked past him on the street with a come-follow-me-cowboy look that grabbed his attention away from that line of thought. He let out a slow appreciative breath at the sass in her walk. He'd always been a sucker for a woman who knew how to handle herself and, more to the point, handle a man who was aching for her.

She smiled at him over her shoulder.

You got work to do, boy.

Yeah, but she was delectable.

Work, Jess. If Andy's right, there's a killer on the loose, and you need to find it and stop it.

He actually whimpered at the fact that he couldn't follow after the blonde. In Reno, doable. Here ...

Too many Daimons.

Yet another reason they needed killing.

Sighing, he crossed Spring Mountain Road, heading north on Vegas Boulevard. He'd just passed the entrance to Neiman Marcus at the Fashion Show Mall and was nearing The Cloud when that familiar tingle went down his spine. One that was unmistakable.

There were Daimons nearby.

But where? People were all over the place. Hard to pinpoint a Daimon in a crowd this size. Not to mention the bright lights, even with his opaque sunglasses on, were hard on his light-sensitive Dark-Hunter eyes. Since Dark-Hunters were created long before the modern lightbulb, Artemis had given them incredible night vision that really hated anything bright. It was downright painful.

Closing his eyes, he focused his other senses. At first he was overwhelmed by everything he heard. But after a few seconds, it settled down so that he could pinpoint what he needed.

They were in the underground parking lot on his left.

Jess headed for it, making sure to keep himself away from any street cameras that the police might use for surveillance-that was one thing Rogue was the best at, since he'd come over from England, where their streets had more cameras than a fully stocked mega Best Buy store.

He ducked into the lot that was full of cars and vacant of people. At first he didn't hear anything more, and then ...

To his right.

Pulling out his daggers, he kept them in his sleeves, just in case he happened upon someone who wouldn't understand why a tall, dark-haired man wearing really dark sunglasses and unseasonably warm clothing would be armed to his fangs. Really, Officer, I was trying to protect humanity by killing these things that suck human souls out to live past their twenty-seventh birthday just didn't cut it. Why no one would believe that, he couldn't imagine. Really, the audacity of modern courts and judges.

Jess came to an abrupt stop as he found something even more grisly than he'd expected.

There were four Daimons on the ground, literally feasting on what must be a demon of some kind. At first glance, it appeared human. But there was no missing the odd skin tone, slightly off from normal, and the smell of it.

That body wasn't human.

One of the Daimons looked up at him as if he'd sensed Jess's presence. "Dark-Hunter," he growled.

Now, normally, Daimons would do that and run away. That had been the standard operating procedure for the last 139 years.

These didn't run.

Well, not true. They ran toward him. Last time that had happened was his brief stint up in Fairbanks, Alaska, with Syra and a couple of others. And that hadn't gone so well for him. It was even worse for the other Dark-Hunters who had died there.

Jess caught the first one to reach him. He kicked the Daimon back and plunged his dagger straight into the Daimon's heart.

It didn't explode.

It just pissed the Daimon off.

Aw, now, wait a minute....

"What the-?" His words ended as the Daimon picked him up and threw him against the far wall, where he slammed hard against the concrete. Pain exploded through his body. Been a while since he hurt this much. It brought back many an unhappy memory.

Still, he didn't take a lickin' and not give one back. No, sir. After flipping to his feet, he shrugged his coat off in one fluid movement and ran for his attacker.

Don't let them bite you."

Jess glanced over to where Sin had joined the fight. Almost a head taller, Sin wore his black hair cropped short. Dressed in black like Ren-something they all did, since it helped camouflage bloodstains they might collect in fights, and face it, it was a lot easier to look badass in black than in baby doll pink-Sin tossed him a new weapon, which was similar to a small scimitar.

He caught it just as the Daimon realized what was going on. The Daimon's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon. Now, that was what he was used to.

Respect.

Well, really fear, but he'd take it.

Sin flipped the Daimon nearest him flat onto his back and, in one swift stroke, beheaded him. He met Jess's gaze. "Now you know how to kill them."

Sure enough.

"Whatever you do, Jess, don't let even one of them escape."

Jess didn't. Of course, it took a little running, a near miss getting beheaded himself by a low-lying parking deck beam, couple of bruised ribs 'cause Daimons knew how to give a kick that counted, and more acrobatics than a man his age should be capable of, but he ran down the last one and made sure the Daimon took no more human lives.

Panting and sweating, he stood over the grisly body with a puzzled frown.

Sin grinned as he joined him. "That, I have to say, was highly impressive. You run like a jackrabbit. Too bad you were born before football. You, my friend, would have gone pro." He raked a hard stare over Jess's body. "They didn't bite you, did they?"

"Nothing not a willing female bites me, and definitely nothing without an explicit invitation." Jess indicated the body with a jerk of his chin. "Care to tell me why they're still here?" The one thing you could always count on with Daimons was the fact that they were self-cleaning. Kill one, and it exploded into dust. They didn't normally lie on the floor in a pool of blood, looking all grisly and nasty like that.

Sin kicked at the body. "Guess these haven't reached Reno yet."

"These?"

"Daimons who walk in daylight."

Ah, hell no ...

This couldn't be good. "Come again?"

"We had a little bit of a problem here a couple of years ago. There was a hive of gallu demons who were preying on the tourists. I don't suppose you know what a gallu is."

"I'm a gunfighter, Jim, not a demonologist."

Sin moved past him so that he could burn the body on the ground. "Nice Bones impression. Roddenberry would be proud." He jerked his chin toward the burning body. "Gallus are my pantheon's contribution to the nightmare list. Vicious and amoral, they don't care who they kill, and they are virtually indestructible."

"Nice."

"You have no idea. I had them contained here for a while. Unfortunately, they escaped."

That figured, and it was just like he feared. Suck City Limits was looming in the headlights. He should have known better than to take a detour from Normality. "So how many are running around now?"

"You miss the point, Dark-Hunter. They're not just here anymore, and they're spreading. Unlike a Daimon, one bite, and you become their slave. They can make more of themselves. That was bad enough. Then the Daimons realized they can feed on the gallu."

Jess shook his head. "Why do I have a feeling this is really about to piss me off?"

"Because it is. Once the Daimons feed on a gallu, they become immortal and absorb the demon's essence and powers into their bodies. As I said, Daimons can then walk in daylight, and the only way to kill them is to behead and burn them."

"And one bite, and I'm their slave?"

"Exactly."

Jess cursed. "And who thought this would be a good idea?"

Sin held his hand up. "Don't get me started. There are idiots in all pantheons. Some days, I think the Sumerians had more than their fair share, and I only hope the idiocy is congenital and not something contracted later in life. Otherwise, I'm even more screwed." He accelerated the burning of the body. "But back to what needs to concern us most. So far the outbreaks have been containable."

That was one way of looking at it, he supposed.

Still ...

"You know it might help if you'd actually told all of us about them before we run across them. Had you not shown up just now, I'd have been locked in a useless game of Whac-a-Mole, trying to kill them with a knife through the heart. I could have been gallu Daimon kibble. Really not cool, Sin."

"Hey, I just found out about these earlier today, and I was going to tell you about them."

"When? After they bit me and turned me into a Dark-Hunter gallu zombie?" Now, there was a horror movie in the making. He just didn't want to be the star of it.

Sin narrowed an angry gaze on him. "You left before I got down to you."

"I'm not that psychic, amigo. How was I supposed to know you wanted to talk to me?"

Sin scowled. "Didn't the valet tell you to wait?"

"Nope."

It was Sin's turn to curse.

Obviously the Apollite hadn't been as friendly as he pretended. Jess tsked. "That's what you get for living with your enemies, Slim. Notice they don't flinch from stabbing you in the back."

"Neither do friends."

Jess grimaced at the touche. "Now, that's just cold, Sin. True," he admitted, "but cold."

"Yeah, well, I was trying to get your attention on the street. It's why I followed you down here. I wanted to warn you about them before you got into a fight with one."

That gave him pause. "You were following me?" And he didn't know it?

Impossible.

"Yeah."

Jess frowned at that. "Why didn't I sense you?"

"Maybe the blonde distracted you."

It didn't work that way. Never once had he failed to notice someone on his tail. Unless ... "What are you?"

"Pardon?"

Jess raked a look over him, trying to find something to confirm his suspicion. "You can't be human, and I know you're not a Daimon or Apollite." Daimons, unless they partook of Clairol, were blond with lighter skin than Sin had. "You're no longer a Dark-Hunter, so..."

Sin gave a wicked half smile. "You're right. I'm none of those."

"What, then? Are you a god?"

Sin's smile went full blown. "Remember, Ray, whenever someone asks you if you're a god, the correct answer is always yes."

Jess snorted. "I saw that movie, and I think you misquoted it."

"The sentiment's the same."

Which meant Sin wouldn't answer. Fine. Jess wouldn't press the issue. He more than understood wanting to keep some things to oneself.

"Did you tell Ren about them?" Jess asked.

"Yeah. I caught him when I came down, then I went for you."

Thank God for that. He glanced at the scorched stain on the pavement that was the only thing left of the Daimons. He met Sin's gaze. "I appreciate the assist. And I have another question. Since I can't throw flames out of my hands like you did a minute ago, how do I dispose of these new Daimons we're fighting after I kill them?"

"We haven't worked out the kinks quite yet. But if you drop one, call me and I'll send out a cleanup team."

Jess shook his head. "Damn, you really can get anything in Vegas."

Sin laughed. "You have no idea."

No, but Jess was beginning to.

"Since you have so many of the enemy working in your casino ... Have you heard of a human working with Daimons to kill Dark-Hunters?"

Sin's eyes widened. "What?"

That expression answered the question. "My Squire got word about it from the Oracles. I was just wondering if they might have misinterpreted whatever they got from the Powers That Be. I keep thinking if there was such a beast, Acheron would have called all of us with a warning." As their unofficial leader, Acheron tended to watch out for them, and he had powers that defied belief and understanding.

"Ash's powers don't necessarily work that way."

"What do you mean?"

"Think of it like having a fire hose turned on full blast," Sin said. "The water flows so fast, it's hard to control. He blocks his abilities unless he needs something, so that he doesn't get overwhelmed by it."

Jess wasn't so sure he believed Sin. Acheron was a walking contradiction who never spoke to anyone about himself. He couldn't imagine Acheron having a heart-to-heart chat with Sin, never mind explaining to the ancient Sumerian how his powers worked. "How do you know this?"

"Married to Artemis's handmaiden, remember? She knows a lot about Ash."

Now, that he believed. Be hard for Acheron to keep secrets from the goddess they all served. Sin was right. If anyone knew some of those secrets, it was probably his wife.

"So," Sin continued with his explanation, "if Ash isn't focused on here, he won't know what's going on. You want me to call him about it?"

"Nah. I'll do it later." Jess never liked getting secondhand information. Too much room for people to forget something or get it misconstrued. He'd much rather have it straight from the horse's mouth.

Sin nodded. "Well, I won't keep you. I know you have a lot to do, and I have a casino to run and a wife and toddler to see to."

Yeah, but Jess envied him that last bit. A lot. However, he wouldn't begrudge Sin his good fortune. It was nice to know that life worked out for some people, and since Sin had been a Dark-Hunter, Jess knew the man must have suffered greatly in his first life. It did his heart good to see someone happy, even if it wasn't him. "Give the missus my best."

"Will do."

Jess went back for his coat while Sin took his leave. He glanced around at the remains Sin had burned and let out a tired breath.

New rules. New playing field. The gods must have gotten bored with them all. In the back of his mind, he could picture these new Daimons spreading like in a bad SF movie. Hell, he could even see the map with a superimposed image of a red horde spreading out like an epidemic.

And somewhere out there was a human playing vigilante on them.

Yeah, it was a good time to be in Vegas. He was so happy Acheron had reassigned him, and that was said with all due sarcasm.

He shrugged his coat on and returned to the street to continue his lonely patrol. As he walked among the crowd, he tried to imagine what it would be like to be one of them-an innocent person going about completely ignorant of the preternatural around him. A part of him had forgotten what it was like to be human.

Another part wondered if he'd ever really been human at all. His enemies and victims would definitely deny it. And he'd been nothing more than an animal.

Until Matilda.

"Gah, I'm maudlin again." Must be his lack of horses. Riding always made him feel better, and he'd been away from them for way too long.

Soon though, they'd be here and he'd be back to normal. At least as normal as an immortal could be.

Hours went by as he searched and found no target. It amazed him that the nightlife in Vegas didn't let up. The crowds did thin, but still ...

Totally different world from what he was used to in Reno.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, letting him know it was time to head back so that he'd be home a few minutes before dawn. When it came to that, he never liked pushing his luck. No one wanted to spontaneously combust into flames, especially not in traffic. The thought of going Johnny Blaze just didn't appeal to him in the least.

He headed back for Sin's casino to collect his ride.

Jess hadn't gone far when a flash across the street caught his eye.

It was two Daimons pulling a woman into a storm drain. Jess sucked his breath in. Underneath the city was approximately a five hundred mile maze of drainage systems. It wouldn't take much for the Daimons to lose him down there.

He bolted across the street, hoping to catch them before they killed their prey or lost him.

The minute he was inside the drain, he all but let out a sigh of relief from the soothing darkness.

After removing his sunglasses, he slid them into his pocket and made his way through the smelly tunnel, which had about an inch of standing water in it. He curled his lip at the rotten garbage and other things he didn't want to think about. There were a number of homeless people who called these tunnels home. Some of them were every bit as dangerous to the average human as the Daimons he was after.

"Please let me go! Please! Please don't hurt me!"

He followed the sound of the woman's petrified cries. It didn't take long to find them.

Only it wasn't what he'd expected.

It was a trap, and he'd just barreled right into it.