The Ancient Breed (29 page)

With a sudden motion, he lowered the spear, and his body absorbed the scorching firestorm in seconds.

The tall demon ducked its head beneath the entrance and entered the ancient ceremonial chamber. Its unblinking, murderous eyes sized up its opponent. It did not see an old man; it saw Blossom Smith, its chosen prey. Its protruding muzzle drooled thick threads of saliva as it anticipated the kill.

The demon charged the woman, its long, razor fangs bared and its claws extended. Grandfather waited until it was killing close, and then drove the magical spearhead deeply into the lunging demon. It writhed and howled painfully as it struggled to pull the energy-absorbing spear from its body. Blue electrical charges crackled and arced along the buried spear shaft, burning away its life force.

Its female opponent possessed surprising strength, but she was no match for its own power. It finally yanked the spear from its body, straightened to its full height, and charged her again. This time, it was deflected by a thin, force field that devoured more of its energy. The demon guardian thrashed wildly inside the invisible field, absorbing the shield’s agonizing energy drain as it continued toward the female elixir thief. Within minutes, it appeared inside the field where it drove its claws into the woman’s motionless form. Blood poured from her fatal wounds, splashing onto the chamber floor.

A blue mist rose from the puddled blood and enveloped its dying adversary. Just as the demon was poised to strike a deathblow, she faded into the mysterious fog like a vanishing mirage. The demon furiously searched for the dying woman thief, but she had been magically spirited away.

Although it was satisfied that the defiler had been destroyed, the demon was enraged that it had been denied its customary victory feast. Its hunger for human flesh intensified.

Crow sprinted into the chamber and stopped when he saw the hideous killer.

“C’mon, you ugly bastard, it’s time to die!” he shouted, and heaved a stun grenade at the demon.

The demon growled at the hostile intruder and easily sidestepped the grenade, but the shrapnel pierced its wound, and a blade of new pain sliced through its sensory system. With an earsplitting bellow, it faded from the chamber, its ebbing cries following it into an unknown realm.

“Blossom! Grandfather!” Crow shouted, as he inspected the ceremonial circles where the demon had stood. There was no sign of either Blossom or Grandfather, but there were substantial bloodstains beneath a thin, blue mist.

He shouted again, and again there was no response. He recalled the safe chamber from his numerous visits there with Grandfather and touched the mural spear. The wall was hot to touch, but it was still intact. Its magic was extremely powerful. No evil could pierce it.

The wall slid back. Blossom ran out and threw her arms around Crow’s neck.

“Where’s Grandfather?” she demanded, her face streaked with tears.

“Gone,” Crow replied unevenly, an emotional lump impeding his voice.

“Noooo,” she cried angrily, and her tears flowed again.

“It’s all right,” Crow said, attempting to calm her. “He’s gone to the Happy Hunting Ground where he can reminisce with his old friends.”

“But I want him here with
us
.”

“I know, I know – but at least his sacrifice got the guardian off your back.”

Blossom pulled away and looked around the chamber. “Where’s his . . . body?”

“You have so much to learn about our ways,” he said softly. “The gods claimed Grandfather’s body before the demon guardian could desecrate it on our sacred ground.”

As they headed back toward the farmhouse, Crow felt the hollowness inside him for the departed, old medicine man. Life was going to be very different from now on. Without Grandfather’s vigilance and support, Crow would have to depend on his own instincts and ingenuity whenever he got in a jam, and that notion scared the hell out of him.

“Where’s that damn demon?” Blossom asked, after they climbed inside the SUV.

“Gone,” he replied simply, as he guided the Santa Fe into the driving rain toward Walthill.

“Where?”

“Probably back to Florida to lick its wounds.”

They drove in silence, each with their own private thoughts.

Crow bemoaned the fact that he hadn’t had the opportunity to slay the demon, because after it healed, the thing would certainly hunt and kill its next victims. He planned to powwow with Nick as soon as possible to see if they could devise a way to put it out of business.

His hands clenched the steering wheel. He contemplated Nick’s purported
special gifts
. If he really possessed extraordinary abilities, now was the time to use them. With Gabriella gone, Nick appeared to be the world’s only savior. If he failed to dispatch the demon guardian, the human race was in a heap of trouble.

32

T

he limousine cornered sharply onto Pennsylvania Avenue, tossing Nick across the slick, burgundy leather seat.

“What’s your hurry?” Nick shouted at the driver through the opening separating the driver from his passenger. Nick wasn’t pleased about returning to Washington DC with another failed operation to report, and his maniac limo driver certainly wasn’t improving his dark mood.

The Arab’s eyes appeared in the rearview mirror. “You have important meeting to catch. I instructed to bring you to J. Edgar Hoover Building quick. You no can be late,” the man replied, a smile splitting his olive complexion.

Nick fell back and exhaled sharply. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbled as his satellite phone rang.

“Bellamy,” he stated dryly.

“Crow.”

Nick perked up. “What’s up, Chief?”

“Good news and bad news, paleface.”

Nick closed his eyes. “Start with the bad.”

“Grandfather’s dead,” Crow proclaimed bitterly.

Nick stiffened at the terrible news. “How?” he asked quietly, his eyes watery.

“That damn demon guardian, that’s how.” He paused. “I don’t have any details. I didn’t get there in time to help Grandfather defend himself. But I did look that ugly son-of-a-bitch straight in the eye before it faded into thin air. It’s pure evil, man. Pure fuckin’ evil.”

Disappearing into thin air.
How was the demon doing that?
“Don’t blame yourself, Crow,” Nick said consolingly.

“Oh yeah? Who else is there to blame?” he countered angrily.

“Blame me. I’ve managed to screw everything else up lately.”

“Maybe I will,” Crow snapped.

“What about Blossom?”

“Safe with me.”

“How’d Grandfather pull that off?”

“I wish I knew, but I have this feeling that the demon guardian won’t come after her again. She’s in the clear.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Where you headed?”

“I’m taking Blossom to see Clay in Tampa. I thought it was about time.”

“Good.”

“Any word on his condition?”

“When I left, he was conscious and voicing his complaints about the menu. He didn’t understand why the hospital didn’t serve pizza.”

“Well, we’re catching the next flight to Tampa—damn the expense, Boss,” Crow informed Nick.

“Fine.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“What’s the matter, Custer? You sound more down than your usual funk.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“No, I’m serious. Anything Geronimo or I can do?”

“This is even beyond your combined resources.”

“Tell me about it. We’ve come across some weird shit before.”

“It’s just that everything that’s been happening doesn’t add up.”

“You mean the fountain of youth, the shit-head demon, and the stolen poison?”

“Right. There’s something I’m missing. Something that connects all this. I can feel it,” Nick explained. “And then there’s Alick Tobhor.”

“That ancient magician you told me about? The one in your dream?”

“Not a dream. Remote viewing,” Nick corrected.

“Yeah, whatever. What’s he got to do with it?”

“That’s what bothers me. I just don’t know. I don’t have enough info to pull the case threads together, but I have a hunch that Tobhor’s a key player in all of this.”

“Oh, I’ve got it now. Tobhor’s terrified expression in your
remote viewing
episode is eating at you.”

“I guess.”

“
You guess
, my red ass!”

“All right!” Nick exclaimed. “It’s bugging the hell out of me. I think we’re up against someone or something more powerful than the demon guardian. Someone or something who’s manipulating this whole series of events.”

“Even the terrorists?”

Silence.

“Hey, Nick, you still there?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well?”

“Maybe even the terrorists,” he agreed finally.

“That’s pretty far-fetched, even for a white boy,” Crow said thoughtfully.

“So was the
Creeper
.”

“You got a point there.”

The limousine screeched to a halt inside the parking garage, and the driver leaped out and tugged Nick’s door open.

“I’ve got to meet with Rance now,” Nick said in a low voice.

“Got any ideas how to find this bad guy?”

“My brain’s working on a plan.”

“I’ll be around if you need me.”

“Thanks. I might take a drive over to Duneden and pick the brains of a few old residents.”

“Going fossil hunting, huh?” For an instant, Crow’s notorious sense of humor breached his grief.

Nick managed a taut smile himself. “Call me when you get to Tampa. I want Blossom and Clay in Duneden as soon as possible where we can protect them from . . . whatever.”

“What about me?”

“You’re their bodyguard.”

“What! You want this Injun to stay in that witch town again? Have you lost your marbles, Nick?”

“Hey, get off the warpath. You survived there last year.”

“Barely.”

“Stay at Gabriella’s manor - you know the drill there. It’s the safest place I know.” Nick hung up and stared uneasily at the looming entrance to the bleak J. Edgar Hoover Building. Rance Osborne was not going to be a happy camper. If Nick was forced to choose a winner in a fight between the irate FBI director and the murderous demon guardian, he’s bet the farm on Rance.