…
As the vehicle came to a halt, Christian slipped out of the SUV and sniffed the air. Straight away, he picked up the rank sulfur smell of a lesser demon. Something shifted in the shadows up ahead.
“There they are,” he said.
Piers came to stand beside him. “I see them. Just the two.” He sounded disappointed as he drew the shotgun from the holster at his thigh. “I’m going to take out the one on the left, you bring down the second one, and we’ll take it back for questioning.”
“Okay, just remember, if you use that thing,” Christian nodded at the gun, “we have about five minutes before the cops get here.”
Beside him, Piers raised the shotgun. “Don’t waste any time then.”
The explosion filled the alley, and the first demon disintegrated in a shower of gore. Christian licked his lips as the warm blood sprayed across his face, a surge of power hitting his gut as the demon blood entered his system.
The second demon raced down the alley. It glanced back over its shoulder as Christian took aim. The shot took it through the shoulder, whirling it round full circle and hurling it to the ground. Christian kept his gun cocked in his hand as he approached. He slipped the toe of his boot beneath the body and flipped it onto its back.
Crouching beside the injured demon, Christian grabbed it by the hair and dragged its head back. Its eyes flickered open, yellow, no pupil, only a thin black slit down the center. The eyes were lashless and dazed; they blinked a few times and focused on Christian. The recognition was instant.
“Christian Roth.”
A wave of fury washed over him. So this was personal. But why?
His grip tightened on the demon’s hair. “Tell me why you are here. Tell me, and you can live.”
“And go back to my master and inform him that we failed? It’s better to be dead.” It shrugged. “But our master told us there is no more need for secrecy. He wants you to know. He wants you to fear what is coming.”
Christian’s eyes narrowed. “Who is your master?”
“I serve Asmodai.”
“Why does he want me dead?”
The vile creature stared up into his eyes, and its lips curled into the semblance of a smile revealing pointed white teeth. “Who says he wants you dead? That is not the plan—or at least not yet.”
“So what does he want?”
The light was fading from the demon’s yellow eyes. It coughed and a froth of blood erupted from its lips, staining black against the dark red skin. When the coughing fit was over, its head fell back, the yellow eyes staring blankly into the night sky.
Christian swore.
“Weren’t we supposed to take it back for questioning?” Piers asked.
“It must have taken poison.”
“Obviously. So Asmodai is coming after you.”
“It seems that way, but we’re no closer to knowing why.”
Piers shrugged. “Maybe he just doesn’t like you, and he’s not alone in that. I could name a dozen people who would like you dead.”
“Thanks, Piers. Very helpful. Are you going to call in a squad to clean this mess up, or are you going to leave London littered with dead demons?”
“Already on its way.”
Christian got to his feet. So, Asmodai was coming after him. Let him come. This time Christian would finish him off. Though he had an idea it was going to take longer than he’d originally envisaged.
In the lull following the chaos, a vision of Tara flashed across his mind—it looked as though he wouldn’t be seeing her anytime soon.
Chapter Six
All Tara wanted was an ordinary life.
A life like everyone else. Was it too much to ask after her peculiar childhood?
Obviously it was.
Slumping in her seat, she stared at her laptop. Displayed on the screen were details of the last missing person case that could even remotely be connected to her or Aunt Kathy. According to the information, the missing baby had turned up alive and well a few weeks later. So the kidnapping theory appeared to be a dead end.
Tara dreaded what was next. She reached into her bag and drew out the red file Graham had given her a week ago. She didn’t want to read the file because she didn’t want to face up to what she knew was true.
Christian Roth was a vampire.
She’d searched her mind for alternate explanations, from hallucinogenic drugs to hypnosis—and rejected them all.
That brought her back to the red file, because if Christian Roth were a vampire, then what other supernatural beings existed in the world—like zombies.
Though Christian said that her aunt wasn’t a zombie. That had to be a good thing, didn’t it? Who wanted to find out that the woman who brought you up, who you loved, had been a flesh-eating monster?