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I ignored him, not feeling up to playful banter. Another portal meant more havoc to guard against. And the Netherworld wasn’t some scenic spirit amusement park. No, there were creatures there that could swallow your soul and spit it back out, blackened and empty.>Even nukes weren’t always effective against some of the demon hordes. But we’d play hell trying to convince the government to lay down their automatic weapons and pick up silver swords.
I managed to cross three lanes of moderately heavy traffic in time to veer onto our exit as we headed into the heart of industrial Seattle.
The city here was less than pristine. The buildings were as gray as the sky, stark concrete and metal, with parking lots that held a thousand cars. Train tracks ran everywhere like a crazy jigsaw puzzle. If we followed the road we were on long enough, we’d wind up curving north again, toward the lower ports of Seattle. But before we got that far, we needed to turn south onto Lucile. From there, we’d wend our way through the narrow streets until we came to Finley Avenue SW.
The Industrial District looked a lot different during the day than it did at night. During the daylight, all the concrete and metal was just depressing. At night, the area was downright spooky. It didn’t help any that the district had become home to a number of the Supe clubs, including the infamous Fangtabula, one of the most popular vampire clubs in the Pacific Northwest.
Roz jabbed his finger toward the building, which had been painted with bold black-and-white stripes and was as solid as a bomb shelter. “Menolly sure doesn’t like that club.”
“She’s right not to. The owner’s trouble.” I shook my head. “Terrance isn’t an old-school vamp—he doesn’t get into the whole black-cape-goth-boy thing—but neither is he a good candidate for the newest member of Vampires Anonymous.”
“Why?” The incubus blinked as we passed by the nightclub. There were no signs of life, nor would there be until after dark.
“Terrance likes to live on the edge. Menolly told me that she has a bad feeling about him—that she can easily see him becoming another Dredge, give or take a thousand years. Rumors are the club caters to blood whores, but there’s no evidence to prove it. There’s nothing we can do to close them down. If he walks on the wrong side of the law, he’s been covering his tracks damned good.”
“What makes you think there’s anything shady going on?” Roz asked.
I bit my lip. We’d been keeping an eye on the Fangtabula for over a month now. “Tales have trickled out about some questionable parties involving underage FBH girls. Whispers of rape and blood feasts, but nobody ever seems to remember the details, and there’s nothing Chase can do to check them out without official complaints. The vamps would smell undercover cops a mile away, and they’d make sure everything was under wraps. So Menolly and the VA group keep their ear to the rumor mill, hoping for something we can pounce on.”
I swung onto Finley Avenue. Camille turned right behind me. Vanzir leaned forward again. “Three blocks down, to the left. Pink house with brown trim, weathered paint, two-story. The venidemons are in the basement, along with their ghostly sentinel.”
The house could have been any weathered house in a rundown neighborhood, but as I pulled up to the curb on the other side of the street, the hairs on the back of my neck began to rise. Even if I hadn’t known about the venidemons, my body would have told me that something inherently evil lurked here. As I sat there, staring at the flakes of pink that were peeling from the siding, I had the distinct impression we were being watched by something behind the windows that were covered with heavy gray drapes.
Camille pulled in behind my Jeep as I opened my door and swung to the ground. Followed by Roz and Vanzir, I headed back to her car. Camille and the boys emerged from the Lexus to meet us.
She motioned to the house. “Bad. It’s bad. I’ve never encountered a venidemon, but I didn’t think they were as nasty as the vibes I’m getting.”
Vanzir shook his head. “They aren’t. I mean, they’re bad, and they can be deadly, but this . . . this is bigger. Maybe it’s coming from the spirit, but don’t count on it. I think we’d better be prepared for the worst.”
“The worst would be Shadow Wing, and this isn’t anywhere near what his power would feel like,” Camille said.
“Well, that’s one thing in our favor.” Roz leaned against the car. “But I smell trouble ahead.”
Camille nodded. “You and me both.”
Smoky and Morio glanced at her. “Battle order?”
Camille motioned to me. “You fight better than I do, but I’ll need space to cast spells. Same with Morio, so he and I should stay on the same side.”
I nodded. “I’ll take the left, along with Roz. Morio and you take the right. Vanzir, you and Smoky follow. Both of you are fast and can speed past us if you have to.”
“Sounds good,” Roz said, opening his duster to examine the arsenal he routinely carried like some psychotic peddler. I had no idea how he ever made it past a metal detector. He ruffled through the inner pockets of his walking armory and held up a couple of white orbs that looked suspiciously like golf balls. “These are ice bombs. They’ll send a bone-chilling wave of frost in front of us. Once we get in with the venidemons, I’ll toss one. It should give us a little edge; the spell lasts for at least sixty seconds, and it will take them a while to regroup.”
“It’s cold and drizzly. I can try for a spell of freezing rain. Morio?” Camille closed her eyes and began to prep for invoking the moon magic.
Morio shook his head. “I’ll send a wave of confusion through them. That should add some chaos to the party.”
“I guess we’re ready.” I glanced at Smoky and Vanzir. “I’m using my silver dagger as usual. Roz has his pick of weapons. Smoky, I’ve seen you fight; I don’t even need to ask. Although if you have something in the icicle range, that would be good. Vanzir, I take it you’ll be hands-on?”
He nodded. “I can use minor fire spells, but they’d just lap it up like candy.”
There was nothing more to say. “We’re ready, then. Shall we?” They waited, so I swung in front, together with Camille, and we headed across the street. “I guess the front door is as good as any entrance,” I muttered.
Camille snorted. “Just so long as we don’t have to ring the bell and play Avon lady. I’m not giving my makeup secrets to a bunch of blowflies from hell.”
“What about Tupperware?” I let out a snort of nervous laugh. We were in the yard now, cautiously approaching the house. “I have the feeling we’re being watched,” I muttered.
“I know we are,” she countered. “And you can bet they’re ready for us, so I suggest we just get our butts in there and clean them out.”
