“You’re welcome.” Had Stephen been in any real danger, Kilian would have dragged his half-drowned ass out of the water.
Stephen huffed. “Sometimes I wish I could float all day. But Mia gets cranky about routines and expectations, and self-discipline. Is it still self-discipline when someone else makes you have it?”
“No. I'm pretty sure that's discipline. But if it makes you feel any better, you're pretty much describing life in the Army. So this isn’t a demon thing as much as an Army thing.”
He grimaced. “Considering I never signed up for the Army, it doesn't make me feel better.” He stared at the blank concrete wall, and Kilian waited, not sure what to say.
The door opened, and Mia appeared. “We have a major ritual in progress, unknown perpetrator. Dress out. Let's go.” Without another word, she retreated.
Kilian pushed himself out of the water and held a hand down to pull Stephen out as well. “Timeframe?” Kilian called to the two guards who were still standing at the door. If nothing else, they had earpieces and should have some sort of information.
They both stared blankly at him, but Stephen took off towards the exit at a trot. “When they call me in, it's always seconds away from someone completing something so monumentally dangerous that it will take a squadron of soldiers to clean up the mess if we’re too slow.”
The magic pulled Kilian forward. “But are we heading for hot weather or cold, do we have a single perpetrator or a unit? How are we supposed to get ready when we don't know what we’re getting ready for?” Kilian had sat through some half-assed briefings, but this was the first time he’d ever had a no-assed briefing.
The guards opened the doors in front of Stephen so he didn’t even slow before taking an immediate right into the locker room. The magical leash dragged Kilian along.
By the time he turned the corner, Stephen had stripped off his swim trunks. Kilian averted his eyes and turned his attention to getting changed into camouflage pants, clean socks and combat boots. He could only grab his T-shirt before Stephen was heading out again, forcing Kilian to chase him.
Mia was waiting for them in the hall with a team of four werewolves, all carrying automatic weapons.
“I would love some information,” Kilian said.
A werewolf handed Kilian an M249. Kilian slipped the strap over his head and adjusted it into place. He would’ve preferred checking his weapon ahead of time, but hopefully no one in this unit wanted to kill him. Hell, if anyone here hated Judas vamps, they should want Kilian to live as long as possible since he was trapped with a demon that occasionally used him like a chew toy and threw him around the room. It'd been a long time since Kilian had felt that helpless, since back when his first team had died.
Kilian forced his mind away from his morbid thoughts. He was about to go into the field, and he couldn't afford to lose himself to either depression or anger. One would get him killed, and the other would get other people killed.
“The logistics are fairly simple,” Mia said. “Stephen’s passenger can transport all of us there using the magical build-up as a beacon. The rest of the team and I will hold the rear while Stephen determines who is performing a ritual and decides the correct way to handle it.”
Kilian's eyebrows climbed up into his hairline. He was fairly certain that demons should not have been given free rein to decide someone's fate in the field. Kilian didn’t even trust himself to be judge, jury and executioner, so he definitely didn’t trust Stephen in his current incarnation with that task.
Mia continued. “As soon as Stephen neutralizes the threat, I will use my attachment to the land to transport all of us back here. Stephen, do you feel the ritual?”
Stephen’s eyes turned black, and he tilted his head as though he were a confused dog. After a second, a sadistic grin appeared. “I do. Oh my. What a bad, bad witch you are.”
“Single practitioner or a team?” Kilian asked.
Stephen swept his gaze right until he locked onto Kilian. “I don't care. Their lives were forfeit the second they attempted to summon across the veil.” Stephen’s... the demon’s... head jerked and then his gaze moved back to Mia.
Kilian shrugged into his shirt and then tried to tuck it under the weapon strap since he was unwilling to relinquish the weapon. “Well, that's a little hypocritical.”
Stephen didn’t respond. He lifted his hand, and when he let it drop, they were elsewhere. Some place hot that smelled of concrete and the overly sweet stench of fruit rotting on the trees.
Tall walls set with colorful gates leading into private courtyards, and Spanish graffiti made Kilian assume South America. They were way outside Army jurisdiction. Mia had a pained expression that could have been a side effect of the separation from her land or could have been a sign that she realized they were on paper-thin ice, legally speaking.
Stephen pressed his hand against a wooden gate. “Naughty, naughty witches,” he said in a singsong voice that reminded Kilian of a children's rhyme. “What do you think you're doing?” Stephen pushed and something thumped heavily to the ground. He kept pushing and the gate swung inward, the heavy crosspiece that had barred it sliding along the tiled courtyard. Hardware began to disintegrate and metal pieces fell to the ground with little tinkling sounds like an out-of-tune bell. Stephen stopped pushing only when one side of the door collapsed inwards, and then he stepped up onto the boards and crossed into the private courtyard’s space.
Minutes ago birds had called overhead and dogs barked, but now an eerie silence descended. Stephen crossed the fallen door, holding hands out as though on a balance beam, and Kilian followed with his weapon held ready. He stopped on the far side and looked back at the four werewolves who still stood with Mia. “Are you coming?”
“No,” Mia said. Kilian wanted to protest. At least two of the guards should’ve provided backup, but then the magical leash drew taut, and the spell dragged Kilian after Stephen. Stephen had already pushed in the intricate wrought-iron front door, now crumbling to rust, and Kilian covered the side passages as best he could while keeping up with Stephen. Unfortunately, Stephen had zero sense of self-preservation because he strode through the house and up a broad staircase as if he owned the place.
“Stephen! Cover the side passages!” Kilian called, keeping his voice to an angry whisper.
Stephen stopped halfway up the steps and slowly turned around. Darkness seeped out of his shadow, and cold poured down the steps like a fog. “You have such darkness in you.” Stephen came down two of the steps, and Kilian clutched his weapon. If Stephen turned on him, venom would be the better weapon, but the demon had shown ability to fight through the pain and they had a witch or maybe even an entire coven to stop.
“Such hateful darkness.” Shadow draped Stephen’s form and he took another step closer.
“Get on-mission, and don’t rush so much that you put us both in danger,” Kilian said. The M249 was little more than a security blanket, but Kilian clutched it tightly.
