Shadowed

Chapter 23

All thought and sound screeched to a stop in Jase’s head. His vision narrowed to a tunnel. His heart rate actually slowed. “No.”

“Yes.” Dage pushed inside the lodge and slid open a keypad. A hidden door opened to reveal a large armory. “We traced the message to the warehouse district in Seattle.”

Jase yanked a vest over his head. “Why did the demons take Garrett?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Dage tied a knife sheath to his leg.

Jase stilled. “They’ll want a trade. They want me.”

“I said it doesn’t matter.” Dage tightened his bulletproof vest. “You’re staying here to guard headquarters.”

“No, I’m not.” Jase reached for a knife long enough to decapitate a demon in one slice. “I spent five years with them. Five years learning how to counter their mind attacks. You need me.”

“I can’t afford you right now,” Dage said grimly. “Sorry.”

Conn grabbed Dage’s arm. “Jase is right. We need all the help we can get countering their attacks. Somebody has to keep a clear head.”

Dage stepped into Conn’s space. “Jase hasn’t had a clear head in five years.”

Jase cleared his throat. “I’m standing right here, assholes.” He slipped the knife along his leg. “I know I’ve been on edge, and that I screwed up last time. But I’m dealing, and I’m focused. Plus, I’m an excellent decoy considering the demons want me back.”

Dage turned his head. “Why? Why do they want you so badly?”

“Willa wants me.” Just the words burned down his throat. The fucking female demon had tried to seduce him more times than he could count, and he’d almost fallen into her trap. “Her brother probably just wants me dead.”

“If you screw this up, I’ll kill you myself—and no bringing the Degoller Stars,” Dage muttered. “Everyone else is arming themselves underground. We meet at the helicopters in ten minutes.” He turned and jogged toward the doorway. “Take a moment and say good-bye to loved ones. This is going to get ugly.”

Conn grabbed another gun and pierced Jase with a look. “Don’t make me regret backing your play. If you do screw up, Dage won’t get the chance to kill you before I do.” Without another word, he turned and ran into the night.

Jase swallowed. Two death threats in the span of a minute. Not a bad night, all in all. While he wanted to bring the decapitating stars, he understood Dage’s insistence on adhering to the treaty. Those stars killed vampires as easily as demons. He headed into the night, turning toward his home. What was left of it, anyway.

He found Brenna sitting on a bench overlooking the tumultuous sea. Moonlight glinted off her hair, bathing her like a goddess. The moment hurt. His chest ached.

“So you’re going to fight demons,” she said softly.

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “Do you think you’re ready?”

Hell, no. He’d never be ready. “Yes.”

She stood to face him, her head not reaching his chin. “If I asked you not to go?”

His mouth opened but no sound emerged.

She nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“I have to go. It’s Garrett.” Surely she understood.

“Yes, I know.” She reached up and palmed his jaw.

Everything in him wanted to lean into her touch. To lose himself in her. So he remained still. “I’ll return by dawn.”

“You’ll save Garrett. I’m sure of it.” Her gray eyes glowed with an ethereal glimmer in the moonlight. For the first time, he saw the lineage of witches in her. Powerful, beautiful, feminine witches who harnessed the moon.

“I know.” He brushed a kiss on her nose.

She swallowed. “Will this obsession ever be over? Even after you find Garrett?” Her small shoulders steeled as if for a blow.

“No.” He frowned. “Not until the last one is dead. No more demons.”

“That’s what I thought,” she murmured and stepped back. “Stay safe, Jase.”

He hesitated and then nodded. “Moira is staying to help secure headquarters. You stick with her squad.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and jogged around the house to the street. Something had just happened with Brenna, but he couldn’t figure it out. The words had felt like good-bye.

He shook his head, breaking into a full run toward the landing areas. There would be time to fix things with Brenna after he got Garrett back. A familiar rage welled up from his gut, and he ruthlessly shoved fury down. Anger wouldn’t help him now. He’d learned young that killing with cold efficiency kept him alive. That was what he needed now—because there was no doubt he’d kill tonight.

He reached the head helicopter and jumped in the back next to Conn. Dage piloted while Talen sat in the front. “Go,” he said, shutting the door.

The bird lifted into the air. Talen nodded for him to slip on earphones and waited until he complied. “Three copters, attack formation. You’re shield, Jase.”

Jase nodded.

“Kane and Amber are in helicopter two for shields.” Kane’s mate, Amber, had a natural ability to shield from demon attacks, and Kane had slowly learned the skill from her. “The last helicopter will come in from the sea, blasting as we land.”

Jase took a deep breath. As a plan, it was risky. But it was all they had. “Do we know Garrett is on location?”

“No.” Talen turned back toward the front windshield. “I also don’t like how we traced the message. Kane said the message was well secured, and he had to go through several servers, but still. Might be a trap.”

Jase leaned forward. If it was a trap, they were prepared. “The key to countering a demon attack is to let it in.” Which explained why he’d gone so nuts.

Talen turned his head. “Let it in?”

“Yes. Let the images in, let the pain in, and make it yours. If it’s yours, no matter how devastating, it can’t kill you. It can’t decapitate you. Enjoy the pain.” He’d give anything not to have to admit that.

Serious eyes filled with sorrow as Talen studied him before turning back to the night. He exhaled. “Fair enough.”

They flew low, hugging the treetops, the ocean glinting to the left. Jase closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall. What was up with Brenna? He was losing her, and part of him wondered if he’d ever had her. Their mating was unconventional, but he’d come to rely on her in the short time they’d been together.

Could she rely on him?

Her plan to head back to Ireland for the solstice didn’t sit well. He needed her close and safe on his continent. The witches couldn’t protect her like he could.

Within an hour, his head started to ache. His eyes slowly opened. “The pressure in the air has changed.”

“No shit,” Talen muttered.

“Don’t forget to let the pain in and ride it.” Jase leaned to look at the trees spinning by. How many demons were down there? Enough to affect the atmosphere just by existing. Anticipation slithered down his spine.

The helicopter set down in a darkened alley. Jase jumped out, sprinting into a fast jog behind Talen. They maneuvered through alleys, keeping to the shadows, until they reached a chain-link fence. He scaled it easily, landing quietly on the other side.

The industrial park was silent, but the thrum of power rode the wind.

“Heat signatures in Building 4A near the wharf,” Kane said through the earpieces.

Talen gave the go-ahead, and Jase sprang into action.

The demons hadn’t realized they’d been compromised, or the pain would have started.

He peered around an outbuilding at the innocuous warehouse and lifted his assault rifle. His finger itched with the need to fire. So he took several deep breaths, filling his lungs with the scent of salt and ocean.

Talen cut him a glance. “You okay?” he mouthed.

Jase nodded. His knees vibrated, wanting to run and attack.

“Everyone is in position. Fire in the hole,” Dage ordered from the other side of the building.

The night lit up with fire.

All four walls of the building exploded outward. They couldn’t risk harming Garrett, so the charges had been placed to open and not destroy.

A slam of energy hit Jase from the south. He grabbed Talen’s arm and pointed to a gray outbuilding that was big enough for one room. “In there,” he mouthed. Then he ducked low and ran toward the back.

Talen followed, guns in hand. The sounds of battle echoed behind them with shrieks of pain and gunfire. Smoke filled the air.

Reaching the back door, Jase nodded.

Talen yanked it open, and Jase darted inside.

Three men in full soldier uniforms stood in attack formation, guns out. Maps lined the walls, and a table in the center was full of battle plans. Debris, containers, and bricks were scattered throughout the space.

Jase dove to the side and rolled, coming up firing.

Talen did the same.

Jase hit one demon, while the other two ducked behind metal containers.

The breath in Jase’s lungs heated. He recognized one of the soldiers. A high-up officer in Suri’s army, the guy had helped torture Jase more than once. He growled low, rage sharpening his vision.

Talen scrambled to the north and jumped the other guy, hitting him in the head three times. The demon hit the floor, unconscious.

Jase ducked under a volley of bullets and reached the one he’d shot. Removing the long blade, he decapitated the bastard with one hard slice. Turning, he slid between two containers.

Images of death filtered through his head along with a piercing pain. He smiled, his fangs dropping. Opening his mind, he allowed the terror to take hold. Bile rose from his gut. He sucked in all the demon energy he could reach. The pain slowly dissipated, digging somewhere deeper than his physical being. Something to worry about later.

He lifted up, facing the remaining soldier. “I remember you.”

The demon smiled, his black eyes morphing to purple. “I remember you, too.”

Talen staggered into view, his knife at the throat of the demon slowly regaining consciousness. “Stop the attack, or he loses his head.”

The mind attack ebbed.

Blood dripped off the knife in Jase’s hand. “Where’s my nephew?”

The demon frowned. “Not here. Why would you think he’s here?”

Fucking demons always lied. Fury ripped down Jase’s torso, and he stalked closer. “Last chance. Tell me where he is.”

The demon’s silver medals matched his hair. Had he earned some of those by torturing Jase? By breaking him? The bastard shook his head. “I don’t know where he is.”

Jase darted forward.

“Cineri gloria sera venit,” the demon chanted.

Jase stopped cold. Confusion hazed his vision. His gun lowered.

“Jase?” Talen growled, angling to the side.

No sound would come out of his mouth, no matter how hard Jase tried to speak. His legs weakened.

The demon chuckled. “You didn’t think we let you live for the hell of it, did you?”

Dread weighed down Jase’s limbs. He coughed, fighting to speak. “Can’t move.”

Talen sliced off the head of the soldier he was holding, throwing him to the ground and reaching for Jase.

“Cineri gloria sera venit.” The remaining demon hissed. “Now, you kill. Nunc.”

Jase pivoted, his gun rising to point at Talen. Oh God. He fought his own hold, but it was absolute. What in the hell? He tried to growl, but nothing came out. His legs trembled with the need to turn away, but they remained in place.

His brain wasn’t controlling his body.

Talen’s eyes widened. “Jase. You can beat this. Dig deep.” Even so, Talen slowly drew a knife from his pocket.

Jase slid the safety into place.

“Nunc,” the demon said.

The safety clicked off with a flick of Jase’s finger. His shoulders shook as he tried to fight the command to kill.

Talen dropped to the ground and threw the knife. The long blade embedded itself in the demon’s eye. The soldier grabbed the handle, screaming.

The mental hold on Jase disappeared. Roaring, he turned and tackled the demon.

“Wait, Jase,” Talen yelled. “We need him for information.”

A roaring filled Jase’s head. Blood covered his vision. Rage heated him until he couldn’t breathe. Yanking out his knife, he slammed it into the demon’s neck, piercing all the way to the floor. Spitting venom, he twisted right and then left.

The demon’s head rolled away.

Jase lifted up, bellowing. He’d kill them all. Pivoting, he ran toward the door.

Talen stopped him, both hands against his chest.

Jase threw his brother to the side, yanking open the door.

Talen’s tackle came from behind and thunked Jase’s face against the asphalt. A firm hand grabbed his hair, lifted, and slammed his forehead back down.

Stars exploded behind his eyes.

Then, he slid into the safe blackness of unconsciousness.