Ravenous (33 page)

The earth sped by, the current of the ley line covering city blocks as quickly as a car. It was less than a minute before turbulence came. Electricity raced through Holly, a physical feeling, even though it was only her thoughts that it touched. And then the power began to whirl.

There was another line flowing from north to south. A mightier line, dark as old rum, pounded past her. It was chill and wild, bleak as the forsaken lands of ice. The two flows collided, smashing with a force that made the etheric atmosphere shake and shudder. Power zinged in ripples of lightning, circling outward from the whirlpool of magic. It was hair-raising, beautiful, terrible. She let her mind float upward, pinpointing the location of the storm.

It was right under the Flanders house.
Well, that explains a thing or two
.

What a choice location for a witch's house! Even without an added dash of demon, the spell that gave the house its sentience would have gained power from the maelstrom of power under its foundations. No wonder it had been so hard to defeat.

With this network of power under the area, it was obvious why the summoning rituals had worked. Power permeated the campus air like fog. Geneva could harness it easily. She had chosen an arsenal for her battleground.

But I can use that weapon, too
. Holly withdrew her mind, slowly returning to herself. She staggered a little, then slowly sank to the wet grass, putting her head between her knees.

"Are you all right?"

The blackness of the night compounded her dizziness. She blinked her vision clear to see Perry dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans. His forehead was creased with concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just doing some magical scouting. I came back a little fast."

She needed practice with her newfound powers, but there was no time. She was taking her driver's test during the Grand Prix.
Sink or swim, honey
. She let Perry pull her to her feet.

Behind Perry stood a tall, dark-haired young man with sharp cheekbones and wary eyes.
A strange expression for one so obviously strong
, she thought. His whole body spoke of fleet physical strength.

"This is Lore," said Perry. "He came from the other side of the portal, along with the rest of his pack. He's their alpha."

"Pack?" Holly dusted the grass off her damp rump. The clammy cloth made her shiver.

"We are hellhounds." Lore said it like a dare, as if he expected her to slap him.

"They're fighting with us in return for amnesty. They want to live in Fairview," Perry explained. He looked shell-shocked. "I had no idea what sort of a hell… I mean… I knew about the demons, but…"

Lore gave a single, solemn nod that might have been meant as a greeting. "If you are to fight Geneva, you need to hear this. The portals enter a place called the Castle." He spoke slowly, with the precise measure of someone coping in a foreign language. On the other hand, he didn't seem to have an accent.
Maybe he just doesn't talk much
.

"The demon prison," Holly replied, wondering what the hell hounds had been on the other side of the portal. Then she thought of the picture in Grandma's book. Lore did look like he'd fit right into a Gothic decorating scheme.

"It is more than that. There are many who live there, creatures of all kinds. It is a huge, winding place without end. There are no doors or windows. No one has ever walked the length of one wall and returned to tell his tale."

"More than just demons live there?" Holly said, confused.

"There are many prisoners. Many peoples. All are forgotten there."

Holly was speechless.
How did that happen
? she wondered.

He went on. "Your summoner has made many tries to free this demon. Whenever a doorway opened, as many as could escaped. Many changelings. The hounds. Then at last the demon herself."

Perry interrupted, speaking about twice as fast. "It sounds like a few changelings from our side of things were involved at first, then invited their friends from the Castle to come on over and form an army. They're crossing back and forth, using the Castle as their barracks. They've got a spell book they're using like a passkey."

An army. That explains what I saw at the cemetery
, Holly thought.

Lore continued. "We lived quietly for years, and the Castle guards forgot our corner of the prison. If Geneva or her soldiers attract their notice, they will remember that part of the Castle. They will punish any they find still living there."

"Will the guards cross the portal to our side?" Holly asked.

"Yes. The guardsmen are to be feared." Lore clenched one fist, the gesture expressing far more than his simple words. "I regret that there is no way to keep the door open and let those who deserve it go free."

Holly studied Lore, taking in his rough clothes, the constant vigilance of his gaze.
An escaped prisoner. A refugee
. How many others like him were still in the Castle?

Her thoughts took a sharp turn. Alessandro crossed the lawn toward them, his long, worn leather coat flaring behind him. In addition to his usual weapons, a studded baldric crossed his chest, supporting a silver-edged broadsword. The champion's badge of office, the huge weapon was forged to kill immortals. Beheading with a silver blade was forever.

He stopped before Holly, cupping her face and kissing her. The power between them flared, making her knees go soft. The demon could wait. She wanted,
needed
to have him in her arms. There had to be couches in the student lounge. An empty dorm room. A study carrel.

Perry and Lore shuffled, the embarrassed-guy noises bringing the embrace to an end. Alessandro released her, raising his head to sniff the wind. A paper coffee cup skittered down the path, chased by the rising breeze.

"The fey have arrived."

"I thought they were neutral," said Perry.

"They won't fight, but they've agreed to keep the humans out of it. They've made their base to the north," said Alessandro. He turned to Lore. "Hounds patrol the perimeter. Keep any humans who get past the fey clear of the action. Frighten them if you have to. Wolves fight with the vampires. Omara's forces cover the south. She leads them herself."

"If she leads the vampires, what are you doing?" Perry asked.

"I guard Holly. She is our chief weapon of magic. Call my cell the moment you have any knowledge of where Geneva has shown herself."

"I found the energy web of this place," Holly put in. "We may gain some advantage if I watch for disturbances. There'll be a power spike before a portal appears. If we catch it soon enough, we can be waiting."

"How do we know she'll open one?" asked Alessandro.

"Lore says she's been stashing her army inside the Castle."

Alessandro looked at the hellhound with interest. "Inside the Castle? No wonder we could never find the changelings."

Perry slapped Lore's shoulder. "Let's go." They turned and ran north.

Alessandro drew near Holly, so close their sleeves nearly brushed. She could feel the tension in the air, as if she could touch the combined dread and excitement of every creature in the area. It reminded her of a stadium before the big game.

"How did it go with Omara?" Holly asked.

"I'm no longer her servant. I'm through tangling myself in her lies." He shifted, settling his baldric more comfortably. "We should get you somewhere safe while you look for… whatever it is you need to see."

"I don't need safe. I need to be in the thick of the energy."

"Where, then?"

"We have to go back to the Flanders house."

Alessandro did not look impressed.

The Flanders house was no longer dead. Holly stood at the gate as she had days before, her hand on the gatepost, Alessandro's coat brushing against her side. The house glowered from under its gables, its porch wrapped around like folded arms. That was the same.

But not everything was. A streamer of crime-scene tape dangled from the pear tree. The lawn was churned to mud where dozens of heavy boots had tromped to and fro. And her fantasies about Alessandro had become real.
Be careful what you wish for
.

Venom prickled through her veins, a low, constant urge. She was hungry for his touch. Famished. Being near him was barely enough to control the ache. Sheer stubbornness was the only thing forcing Holly to concentrate. That and wariness of the house.

There were no whispers, no voices, but she could feel its dislike. No, it was no longer dead. Something—someone—had revived it.

The flare of orange light from the upstairs windows was the first clue.

The terrified scream and sound of splintering wood was the next.

Alessandro bounded over the gate, drawing his sword as he ran. Holly followed on his heels, leaping up the porch steps in two bounds.

"Door's locked!" said Alessandro.

"Stand back," Holly said.

Now that she knew energy lay beneath the house, it was easy to tap into it with her newly unblocked power. Just a drop. Just a quick snatch and twist with the spell, and… the door blew off its hinges, startling Alessandro into a quick flight backward.

Okay, save that one for special occasions.

He threw her a wide-eyed look as he sprang through the smoking hole in the wall. Holly followed a fraction slower, opening her senses, scanning the house's consciousness. The blast had hurt it, driving its sense of self deep into the foundations. When it recovered, its fury would be profound.

A faint voice drifted into her mind, the barest rustle from the stony, crumbling foundations.
You again
?

You don't have the strength of a demon helping you this time, Demolition Sale.

No
, the house replied. It sounded morose.
This one doesn't share power
.

This one
? Holly wondered with alarm.

Alessandro was already mounting the stairs, sword in hand. The orange light from above was swelling, the glow painting a stark shadow of the staircase on the wall. There, the light was yet brighter, sliding off the length of Alessandro's blade and turning his hair to a corona of gold.

She remembered all too strongly the last time they had gone up these steps. They had found Ben's backpack just there. Over there was the room where the black slime had nearly killed her. The drop cloth still sat on the landing, except now every crease and fold was picked out in that oily orange glow.

The light came from one of the small back bedrooms, pulsing like a satanic disco. On the floor lay the remains of something that looked like melting tomato aspic.

"Oh, Goddess," Holly gasped, covering her nose. The smell made her tear up. "Was that what screamed?"

"A changeling," Alessandro muttered, lifting his sword and inching down the hall in a smooth, deadly glide. "Have I ever mentioned how much I hate this house?"

Nausea sucked at Holly's gut as she stepped around the mess.

The bedroom doorway was narrow. Alessandro's bulk filled it, blocking Holly's view. He slipped sideways to get sword and shoulders past the jamb. Holly followed. She had just enough time to see that the light came from the corner of the room before brightness blinded her, shrouding the features of the man standing in front of the light. The man opening the portal.

Like Alessandro, he carried a broadsword.

"Holly, get back!"

Pure instinct made her drop and roll out of the way as the man swung his sword in a scything arc. Holly smacked into the corner of the door, bouncing the tender part of her elbow off the door's sharp edge. Frantic tingling numbed her hand, leaving her to make a three-limbed crawl for the safety of the hallway.

A clash of steel raised the hair on Holly's arms. That was the sound of invasion, of brute strength conquering without cause or pity. It was the sound of final death.

She scrambled into an empty bedroom.

The floor vibrated with the weight of the opponents as they pounced and slid on the gritty hardwood. Holly crouched, peering around the door frame of her bedroom toward the fight. She heard a whistling slice and a thunk as one of the swords crashed into the woodwork, splintering it to pieces.
That's what we heard from outside
.

She could see them, or a sliver of them, as they moved back and forth in front of the bedroom doorway. This was a two-handed, slashing fight. No points for elegance. Brute male force. Bunching muscles. Snarling teeth.

The other man was as big as Alessandro, bare-armed and tattooed with intricate blue spirals. Black hair hung to his hips in one long braid, swinging like a serpent as he moved. He wore a bronze breastplate over rags of scarlet silk, his skin haggard and his eyes pits of madness. He was shouting in a language she didn't know,
Who is this guy
?

The swords connected again with a crash and a hiss of scraping metal. Reflexively Holly fell back, covering her ears against the noise. She had been able to fight during the skirmish in the cemetery, but this was far trickier.
How do I get a clear shot? They're too close together
.

Holly nearly had her chance when their attacker stumbled backward out of the bedroom, one massive hand clutching what looked like a huge tome. But as he slammed into the wall, Alessandro was on him, sword raised for a killing stroke.

Alessandro was a beat too late.

His opponent rebounded into a somersault, landing outside the path of the blade. As soon as his feet touched the floor, he sprang into a run, charging for the stairs. Holly ducked out of the way, feeling the rush of air as he raced past.

Alessandro slid to a halt beside her. "I have to catch him. He said he's a Castle guardsman."

"Is that what he was saying?"

"Yes, and he has the book."

"The Book of Lies?"

Alessandro looked startled that she knew the name of it. "Yes. Call Perry; he's minutes away. Get him to escort you to Omara."

"No!" The venom in her system erupted, making her frantic that he was leaving her side. "Don't do this! Don't go!" She covered her face with her hands, mortified.