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Those sure as hell aren’t cat eyes, I thought. With a shout, I decided to play Han Solo and ran full tilt down the stairs, screaming at the top of my lungs and waving my dagger like a crazed berserker.
Apparently, blind and foolish courage has its advantages, because I landed right square on the stomach of the creepy critter before he could shake himself out of his astonishment and skedaddle.
It was a bloatworgle, all right, and he looked like he’d just swallowed his tongue. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, I raised my dagger and brought it straight down on his eyes. While his hide was tough, his eyes were not, and I drove the dagger deep. A spray of gray green mucus sprayed up on me.
“Ewww.” I grimaced. Grungy and gross, yes, but there was no time to worry about the crap staining Morio’s karate suit. No time to worry about anything. I was on autopilot: Seek and destroy the enemy. Rescue the valiant knight locked in the castle dungeon. Any sense of remorse or hesitance had flown the coop, and my body was chugging along on adrenaline and instinct.
I leapt to my feet as the others joined me. Where was the next little creep?
A flash of movement caught my eye, and I whirled just in time to see a second demon open his mouth and let loose with a scorching blast, hitting Vanzir straight in the stomach. Vanzir didn’t seem to even flinch, and I wondered what the hell dream chasers were really made of. We’d never seen him in his native form. He let loose a low growl in his throat and moved in, his sword making contact long enough to carve a nice little niche in the bloatworgle’s arm before the blade bounced away again. Man, those suckers were tough!
“Move,” Morio said, sounding a little like Smoky. He was shifting. Within seconds, he went from five eight to eight feet tall, his nose and chin morphing out to a muzzle with drool dripping off the fangs. I stared, always impressed by his youkai form. Unlike Weres, he remained bipedal, though his head was vaguely vulpine. Though he was covered with a downy reddish fur, his hands and feet remained humanoid. Yet his eyes mirrored Morio’s spirit, through and through. Altogether, he was one scary-looking mutha.
I jumped out of the way as he dove for the demon, catching the potbellied creature up in his arms. The bloatworgle let out a squeal and made a nosedive for Morio’s muzzle, its mouth open to land a bite.
Before it could make contact, Morio grabbed the thing around the neck and sent it smashing against the wall. The house shook, and the bloatworgle let out a gurgle and slid to the floor. Morio turned toward Camille, who nodded.
It was then that I saw the door in the back of the basement. Chase was in there; he had to be. I raced toward it, heedless of whether there were any other demons in the room. As my hand touched the doorknob, I heard a scuffle behind me and glanced over my shoulder. Menolly and Morio were taking out another bloatworgle, playing volleyball with the demon as the ball. I ignored them—they could handle it—and yanked open the door.
I flipped on the light, and cockroaches scattered in every direction. The inside of the room was small, not much bigger than a utility room. A cage had been built in the back. A cell, really, with floor-to-ceiling bars. There was a bare incandescent lightbulb screwed into a ceiling fixture, giving off all of forty watts. The room was empty save for a chair near the door to the cell, and a layer of grime covered the walls. The place smelled like shit and blood and rotting food.
I swallowed the lump growing in my throat and stepped forward, my gaze glued on the cell. In the corner, huddled beneath a thin blanket on a mattress, sat my Chase. My sweet Chase.
He raised his head, his eyes glazed over. When he saw me, a look of disbelief crossed his face, and he began to cry.
“Chase! Chase!” I yanked on the cell door, but it was locked. “Wait here. I’ll get someone to bend the bars.” I ducked back out into the room. The third bloatworgle was dead. “Menolly, come bend these bars for me. I found Chase.”
Menolly sailed to my side, her feet barely touching the floor. She raced inside the room. A grimace washed over her face as she looked around, but her focus was solely on Chase, and she grabbed the bars and began to bend them.
“Wait!” Morio rushed in, back in his human form. “Let me cast a Dispel Illusion spell just in case.” A bright light filled the room as he conjured the spell, but nobody proved to be anything other than what they were.
Menolly immediately went back to the bars, and they screeched as she slowly forced them apart. Her hands were blistering—there must be iron in them—but she didn’t show any pain or hesitance. After a moment, the bars were big enough for her to squeeze through.
“Let me do this. I’m stronger than you and can carry him out without a problem.” She stepped through without another word and knelt by Chase, murmuring softly to him. He nodded as she gathered him up in her arms and, hoisting the man who was a good foot taller than she over her shoulder, she carried him to the bars.
Taking his arm, I helped him to step out of the cell. The bloody stump where they’d chopped off the tip of his finger looked like it might be infected.
I had to force myself not to burst into tears. I had to be strong for him. I had to be his anchor right now. The gods only knew how terrified and adrift he probably felt at this moment.
As he leaned against the bars, shaky and pale, he whispered. “Delilah, I’m so sorry—I’m so sorry—”
I pressed my fingers to his lips. “Hush. Just hush. There’s time enough to talk later. The important thing is to get you out of here where we can treat your wounds.” I wrapped my arm around his waist and led him out of the cramped room. Camille gasped, but at my look, she stayed where she was.
Zach moved forward.
Chase stared at him. His eyes were worn, he looked like he’d been to hell and back, and I could only pray that a severed finger was the worst that Karvanak had done to him. Chase glanced at me, then at Zachary.
“You—you . . . I understand . . .”
Once again, I pressed my finger to his lips. “Shush. There’s nothing so important we have to discuss it now. We need to focus on getting you out of here before Karvanak returns—”
A bolt of fear washed through Chase’s eyes. “He’s still alive?”
I was about to speak when a voice from the stairs answered for me.
“No, they haven’t been able to kill me,” the voice said. “Just like you weren’t able to fight me. You tried your best, Detective, but you couldn’t do a thing when I was holding you down. When I made you kiss my feet.”
Karvanak was standing there, in his Calvin Klein suit and polished shoes, his wraparound sunglasses hiding the cruelty in his eyes. The light glinted off his shaved head, and he gave me a soft smile.
