Rocked by Love (Gargoyles Series) (28 page)

BOOK: Rocked by Love (Gargoyles Series)
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She took a deep breath and started walking them through her findings. Since the conference expected to draw more than five thousand attendees from all over the world, it represented a veritable Demon’s smorgasbord of souls all gathered in one place, ready to be consumed. The only thing Kylie and the others could be grateful for is that at almost no point would that number be gathered in one place within the convention center.

“That makes me twitchy,” she told the others. “It seems to me that part of the appeal of hitting an event this big is the ability to harvest so many souls at one time. But if they’re not all in one space, does that mean they’re intending to hit a whole bunch of different spots simultaneously? That would be a nightmare for us.”

Most of the time, she explained, attendees would be spread out among a number of smaller sessions, with each discussing an aspect of the overarching issues the conference was intended to address. There was an extensive schedule of these sessions for attendees to choose from and some were expected to draw larger crowds than others. That was the nature of these kinds of meetings. Unfortunately, Kylie didn’t know enough about the topics or the attendees to determine which of the sessions would likely draw the largest crowds.

“Am I wrong in thinking that coordinating so many simultaneous attacks would be too big a headache even for superpsycho demon worshippers?”

“No, I do not think you are,” Kees said. Ella’s Guardian looked like some kind of rogue angel, with features almost too handsome for Kylie to believe he was a real Guardian, but Spar, Knox, and Dag all accepted him at face value. Plus, he did have that gravelly Guardian voice, and the look that said he could rip off heads if suitably motivated. “That number of coordinated strikes would require hundreds, if not thousands, of
nocturnis
in order to achieve success. We have never seen a single sect with anything even close to those numbers. Coordination between sects is always a possibility, but Ella feels that, for now, it remains unlikely.”

“The ‘for now’ is a point worth stressing, though.” Ella, a quiet woman with brown hair and unique gray eyes, sounded wary but certain. “I think it’s inevitable that as the Order gains in strength, they will need to begin coordinating their efforts to bring about the apocalypse they’re all dreaming of. But at the moment, every time we’ve run into an active sect, it’s been headed by a big ego. That alone makes me think that until the Seven are awake and aware enough to force the groups to work together, they’re just all too power hungry and full of themselves to pull off working together in any kind of direct way.”

“Okay, that’s a little bit of good news,” Kylie said. “it also adds some weight to my theory. Now mind you, it is just a theory, and I’m not sure that what I found out is going to be enough to substantiate it for you guys, but—”

Wynn interrupted gently but with a steely smile. “Just spit it out. You’re one of us now, and in order to be one of us, you have to have power. That means that if your intuition is telling you something, we’re all going to believe it unless something pretty solid points us in another direction. So, spill.”

Dag slid his hand around and squeezed her hip. Kylie took a deep breath. “Okay. Sorry. I think it’s going to happen at the keynote address. That’s on the schedule for first thing on Sunday morning, right after breakfast. Eight-thirty. It won’t draw in every single attendee, but the room will be set up for three thousand people, with overflow standing room for at least a few hundred more.”

“That’s a pretty impressive crowd,” Fil said. “I think that would count as a pretty filling lunch, even for two greedy demons.”

“It is enough power to return Uhlthor to strength and to free Shaab-Na from its prison,” Spar added grimly. “I fear it may even be more than enough.”

Kylie nodded. “I was afraid of the same thing. But what tips it over the edge for me is that Richard Foye-Carver himself is giving the keynote address. He’ll be right there, in the room, when it happens. And not only that, he’ll be up on a stage getting the best view in the house.”

She frowned and took a deep breath. “I know we don’t have definitive proof that he’s the Hierophant, but my gut tells me he is, and my gut also says that if he could, he’d bathe in the blood of those people himself.”

She exchanged glances with Dag, and he nodded encouragement. Last night, in preparation for this call, she had stared at the enhanced photo of Carver for what felt like hours. Every single hair on the back of her neck had stood up, and the pit of her stomach had descended into her Tribble slippers when she looked into the man’s smiling blue eyes. What looked back at her was not right; it was evil pure and simple.

Hierophant or not, if Richard Foye-Carver had ever possessed a soul, he must have sold it to the Seven a long time ago. How he managed to pass himself off as an activist and a philanthropist she couldn’t understand for a minute. Every time she looked at him, she got sick to her stomach. If she were Catholic, she’d have crossed herself. As it was, she couldn’t stop herself from mentally pronouncing
kaynahorah
to ward off his evil eye.

“Like I said, you don’t need to convince us,” Wynn said. “But if we’re going to come up with a way to stop him from doing just that, we need more information about their actual plan. We need details.”

“Full details I don’t have, and trust me, I wish I did. But you all know more about the way the Order operates than I do, so let me tell you what I found, and maybe you can piece it together better than I can.” Kylie looked at her notes on an adjacent computer screen. “I found chatter on the darknet about something called
oblatio
.”

“It is their ritual of sacrifice that is demanded by the Seven,” Kees reported grimly.

“Okay, context here paints a disturbing picture that
oblatio
is something pretty ordinary for them and that whatever is coming up would be more appropriately referred to as a
molkh.

“Oh, crap, that’s bad,” Wynn breathed.

Dag snarled, baring a fang when Kylie glanced at him. “
Molkh
is what you envision the Hierophant wants. It is a bloodbath, where both the souls and the blood of the victims are offered to their unholy masters.”

“It also implies that my mate was on the correct path with her theory of the plan,” Knox said. “
Molkh
traditionally involves the summoning of lower demonic creatures who murder the victims and feed on the flesh while the released souls are then consumed by one of the Seven.”

Kylie closed her eyes and swallowed back bile. “I was really hoping you weren’t going to say something like that. That clarifies my next item, though. The chatter indicated that there would be four ‘doormen’ serving inside the room, and that they’d be in charge of who got in, not who got out. I’m guessing those are the summoners?”

“Yes. Not only will portals need to be opened to allow the creatures into the space, but if they hope to target that many victims, the gates must be held until sufficient numbers pass through.”

“That’s got to be our biggest concern, then,” Fil said. “We need to keep those doors from opening. That’s our plan.”

Spar picked up his mate’s hand and brought it to his lips, blocking his small smile. “Perhaps we should work out a small number of additional details,” he suggested.

“Yes, like how we’re going to do it,” Ella offered.

Fil sent her a teasing glare. “Nitpicker.”

“Listen, Rembrandt—”

Wynn cut in. “Excuse me, children? I think the obvious solutions all involve us being present, in the room, for a coordinated counterstrike. And that means we need to decide which of us is going to Boston and how soon we can get there.”

“I already told you that Spar and I are there, and I meant every word. Just try and keep us away.”

Wynn nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Which makes Dag and Kylie, Fil and Spar, and me and Knox.”

“You wish to exclude us from the fun?” Kees growled, his eyes glinting with both humor and bloodlust. It made for an interesting expression.

“Actually, I was just thinking about how synchronous it all seems,” Ella said, leaning into the camera. “Four
nocturnis
attempting to open four portals to the demonic planes. Four Guardians and four Wardens. Doesn’t it just seem like Fate?”

To Kylie it seemed like something that fit way too perfectly to be true. It made her want to look over her shoulder and spit.

“Ella and I will come as well,” Kees proclaimed, and Kylie sighed.

“Looks like I’ll be furnishing those extra bedrooms sooner than I intended,” she said. “Just wait till my grandmother hears. She’ll be so pleased.”

*   *   *

“You got a doorbell!” Wynn beamed at her the minute Kylie opened the front door. “And look! You answered it and everything. Wearing clothes, no less. It’s so sweet.”

“Get inside, you smart-ass,” Kylie grumbled, stepping back and waving in the onslaught of houseguests. “If we’re going to turn this place into a barracks, we might as well get on with it.”

“Did your grandmother bake while she was here? Please tell me she did. I’ve been dreaming of her
kichlach
since we booked our plane tickets.”

Kylie gave in to the urge to give her friend a hug while the circle of hulking males hauled in luggage and exchanged greetings in the form of grunts and nods. “She tried to teach me how to make them. Again. Ten minutes later, she was on her way to the closest kosher bakery to buy me a gift certificate.”

“Yes, but did she leave any behind?”

Kylie laughed. “She put them in the freezer. Her subtle way of reminding me not to have any leavened food during Passover.”

“Score!”

While Wynn scampered into the kitchen, quiet Ella stepped forward and took her turn for a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you in person,” said the art historian and the first one to be dragged into this big mess. “Wynn’s been talking about you for weeks now.”

“Yeah, when she hasn’t been talking about your grandmother’s cookies.” Fil flashed her a grin and offered a brief one-armed embrace. “I’ve been fantasizing about stuffing so many in her mouth at once that she’d finally be forced to stop speaking for five minutes.”

From the pile of testosterone near the bottom of the stairs, a deep voice emerged. “Did someone say cookies?”

Ella shook her head. “Kees has a bit of a sweet tooth.”

Kylie laughed. “Okay, everyone in the kitchen. We’ll have a nosh and get settled in before we get down to business. Remember, we’ve only got four days to pull this thing together.”

“Yes, but the cavalry has arrived.” Fil swung her arm over Kylie’s shoulder and half dragged her down the hall after Wynn. “Everything will be fine. Just wait and see.”

Oy.
Kylie knew famous last words when she heard them. She just hoped the reality check wouldn’t hurt as bad as a hockey check. Maybe she could find some pads, though. Just in case.

For a short while, they gathered in the kitchen over
kichlach
and coffee, tea, or soda like a group of friends who didn’t often get the chance to spend time together. They laughed and joked, teased and shared gossip, but the constant undercurrent whispered of the coming danger, and the interlude couldn’t last long. They all knew too well what they faced and how many lives were at stake. They also knew that they stood as the only defense between humanity and the Darkness.

Yet more evidence they should have a cool Avengers-style nickname, Kylie concluded. And capes. She would definitely be needing a cape for this.

Soon enough, the group migrated to the living room, which sported a second sofa, two new chairs, and a couple of end tables hastily ordered and delivered to accommodate the influx of guests. Kylie had even remembered to buy lamps so that when they sat down to talk, they didn’t have to do it in the dark. Go her.

Kees immediately claimed the end of the older sofa and pulled his mate down beside him. “We must get down to business,” he said in his gravelly, rasping voice. “Kylie, you will fill us in on the most recent developments.”

Recognizing the order as a personality trait of the gigantic, dominant Guardian, Kylie managed not to get her back up and to reply civilly. Hey, look—personal growth.

“The darknet has gone quiet,” she said, settling down on the floor while Dag took the chair behind her. There were enough seats to go around now, but she was accustomed to the floor and found it perfectly comfortable. Especially with the new rug softening the hardwood surface. “I think they must be under orders to keep quiet now that the event is getting so close. I haven’t heard anything new in the last two or three days.”

The others nodded, looking unhappy but far from surprised.

“On a more positive note,” she continued, “I managed to get us all registered for the conference. When I first called, they told me it was closed and that next year I should be sure to keep an eye on the deadline.” Her smile, all teeth and no humor, showed what she had thought of that brush-off. “But when I told them my name and mentioned the possibility of a substantial donation to Carver’s foundation if the conference program impressed me, the organizers did manage to squeeze out a few badges for myself and my entourage. So, you guys get to be my entourage.”

Fil bounced in her chair and sent her pale blond ponytail flying. “Ooh, ooh! I want to be the one who mouths off to the paparazzi and gets your name splashed all over the tabloids!”

Wynn snorted. “Fine. I think we can handle being your plus seven if it means getting us into the event.”

“Actually, I didn’t just get us into the event,” Kylie qualified. “I got four of us seats at the opening dinner.”

Dag scowled. “You did not mention this to me.”

She shrugged. “I’m mentioning it now so we can figure out who should use the tickets.”

“Did you not initially speculate that the Order’s strike could come at this event almost as easily as at the keynote address?”

“It was a possibility, but I really think they’ll go for the keynote. Bigger audience, more attention, and doing it on the final day of the conference is a lot more theatrical.”

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