“I lost my poppet in the woods outside. Would you please help me find her?”
“Sure.”
Smiling, the girl led her toward the door.
* * *
A peculiar chill went down Devyl’s spine as he stopped to look about the room for Mara. She was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Mara?”
Belle paused to glance around the church. “She was just here.”
His gaze went to Cameron as a streak of white appeared in her chestnut hair. Even though Thorn had yet to return her medallion, her blood was reacting to the same thing he felt in his bones. There was something here that didn’t belong in this realm.
A douen.
Shite …
“Fan out and find her. Belle, keep an eye on our Miss Jack.”
“Aye, Captain.”
While William, Kalder, and Belle began to search, he took a moment to warn the priest to secure the children within the confines of the church. If it was a douen, they were bad to go after the souls of the innocent, and children in particular. No doubt that was what had brought the demon here originally. They would normally find any child they could and lead him or her off so that they could either possess them or kill them.
Wary, he made his way into the underbrush to search. He knew better than to call out for Mara, as that would strengthen the demon’s power over her. Damn them. They were crafty beasts. Some of the most dangerous. They preyed on people’s kindness. Preyed on their sympathy.
And Mara held far too much of both, in spite of her Deruvian blood.
Little wonder the douen had found her. On this island, compassion was in short supply. Hers would have stood out like a beacon to draw the demon straight to her kind heart.
“Come on, you bugger.” He was thirsty and in need of nourishment. It’d been a long time since he made a meal off something as powerful as a douen. It’d do his own powers good to feast on this bastard’s heart.
Provided it didn’t kill Mara first and end him in the process.
Where would it have taken her? Not like it could kill her in the open. Or maybe it could. These bastards were more brazen than most. It was what made them so dangerous.
Devyl went deeper into the thicket, where the overgrowth was so dense it was hard to see much. Even daylight.
Suddenly, he heard a rustle near him.
Turning, he summoned philosopher’s fire into his fist. And moved in for the attack.
“Halt!”
He barely caught the release before he unleashed the flames over the newcomers. “Dammit, Alabama! Rafe! You almost lost your heads! What are you doing here?”
“Kalder said our lady had been taken. We’re here to help you hunt.” Alabama was one of Devyl’s gunners. A large, beefy member of their crew, he’d belonged to the Choctaw nation before his death and recruitment to the Hellchasers by Thorn. Like Rosie, he wore feathers braided into his long, black hair, and a bone and beaded choker. “I take it you haven’t found her?”
“Nay. Can you track them?”
Alabama shook his head.
Devyl cursed. Out of the three of them, someone should have been able to pick up something. For them to have nothing at all …
Then he felt it.
“This way!” He ran through the brush as fast as he could. Birds scattered at his reckless pace.
At the end of the path, the trees broke to a clearing. And not just any clearing—there appeared to be a hole in the very earth. One that dropped straight down to what seemed to be hell itself. Devyl barely caught himself before he fell into it.
