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We made it to the door that led into the underground complex. I held a finger to my lips, motioning for the others to stop fidgeting. Pressing my ear against the door, I listened. At first, all I could hear were the shallow breaths of the others behind me, but then, as I focused my attention, their breathing dropped away. I could still hear the rats and cockroaches, but they, too, disappeared as I narrowed my attention further.

And then, there it was: the low chanting again, coming from the distance. Only it was deeper than before, more concentrated. I needed Camille to see if she could sense any magical energy coming from it, but for that, we’d have to enter the complex itself. I listened again for the sound of anybody lurking on the other side but could sense nothing.

Motioning everybody back down the tunnel a few feet, in low whispers I told them what I’d heard. “We’ll head for the room Delilah and I found the bodies in. We can hide in there—”

“Remember, I’ve got an invisibility spell,” Morio said. “It’s not foolproof, and it doesn’t cloak sound or scent, but a couple of us can use it from there to scout out what’s going on down the hall.”

“Great idea.” I actually found myself patting him on the back, relieved. At least we had some semblance of a plan. It seemed like our main method was to rush in, beat the enemy senseless, and hope we didn’t get hurt. Maybe others were more adept at this saving-the-world gig, but I had the feeling we’d forever remain the Three Stooges plus of the he-man set.

I cautiously opened the door, peering out into the hall. Nobody, but the chanting echoed through the empty corridor, an eerie backdrop as we slunk through the hall toward our destination. The room was still unlocked, and as I opened the door, I could see Sabele’s body still hanging there. Suddenly furious, I slipped in and motioned to the others. They silently filed in, stopping short as they saw the getup on the wall. Camille walked slowly over to the body, her fingers brushing the leathery skin.

“What the hell did they do to her?” she whispered.

“I told you: They ripped out her heart and chopped off her fingers. They’re a fucking bunch of sadists.”

All my worry over what Harold’s parents might say took a nosedive out the window as I stared at Sabele, wondering how long they’d let her hang there. Had they killed her there or somewhere else? Had she been awake when they’d done the deed? Had they violated her, fed on her fear, laughed at her cries? Flashbacks to my own night of terror at Dredge’s hands flickered through my mind like an old movie. No matter that he was dust and ashes, no matter that I’d broken the bond, some memories were too horrendous to ever forget.

Camille brushed her hand across Sabele’s face, gently stroking the wisps of hair that remained attached to the mummy back away from her eyes. “Sleep deep. Sleep and go to your ancestors, my friend. Sleep the sleep of the ancients, dream the dreams of the divine. Go and rest.”

A faint whisper of wind blew through the room, and I shivered, not from the chill, but from the sense that Sabele was there, listening. Was she trapped? Did her spirit wander the halls of the damned, waiting for release?

Morio ran his hand down Camille’s back, and she shuddered. He leaned close and gently kissed her shoulder, then her ear, before turning to me.

“Who do you want to send on the scout mission? Whoever it is has to move silently and preferably have as little scent as possible,” he said, setting his bag down on the floor.

“I’ll go,” I said. “Will your spell work on a vampire?”

“I don’t see why not. I can enchant two with the spell, so do you want to take someone else?”

I shook my head. I’d thought about taking Delilah, but too much chaos if we got separated. Better and easier to keep track of just myself.

“No, I can move faster than most of you, and I’m silent. What do I have to remember about the spell?” I looked at my boots. Heeled, but they were my working boots. I’d covered the bottom of the heels with a rubber compound so they made no noise. Some of my boots tapped nicely on the floor, comforting me as I walked, reminding me I was still alive, but I’d learned quickly that in our new gig as demon hunters, I needed the advantage of the silence I’d been gifted with when I was turned into a vampire.

“If you bump into someone, they’ll feel you. If you make noise, they can hear you. If you attack someone, the spell vanishes. It’s a spell aimed solely for reconnaissance. As a matter of fact, there are a few invisibility spells that will work during a fight, but they’re hard to learn, and usually only the most adept sorcerers and witches can work them.”

“How long will it last?”

He shrugged. “Hard to say; it varies with the recipient. But I think you should have about ten minutes, maybe fifteen if you’re lucky. When you’re invisible, you won’t be able to see yourself, so you should have a pretty good clue when you start being able to see your hands and body again that the magic is fading.”

I gave him a short nod. “I’m ready. Let’s get this show on the road and find out just what we’re up against.”

He stood, spread-legged, his feet solidly against the floor. As he raised his head, his dark eyes glowed with a topaz ring, and I could see his demonic nature flicker to the surface. Morio took three deep breaths as a palpable energy rose around him, twisting and turning like a vortex of sinuous fire. He reached out and put his hands on my shoulders.

I couldn’t understand the words, but as the chant flowed from between his lips, my body began to shift. It was almost like walking through a portal, but instead of everything around me becoming hazy, I felt nebulous, as if I was suddenly looking through a camera at the world around me. I glanced down and realized that I could no longer see my hands. Or my feet. Or any part of me.

“Okay, that’s freaky,” I said.

Delilah jumped. “Yeah, especially for us. You just vanished—all of you.”

“Okay, I’m headed out then. I’ll tap three times on the door when I return. Here’s hoping the big blow doesn’t start before I get back. The last thing we need is to be split up.” I listened at the door again. Nothing sounded in the hallway save for the chanting that seemed to be an endless loop. Idly, I wondered if they’d taped it and just played it over and over again.

I slipped out and closed the door behind me. Nobody in the hall. Keeping to the side, swerving around the doors that might suddenly open to reveal someone, I hustled my ass down the corridor. I could move far faster than any of the others, except perhaps Vanzir and Roz. And so I followed the thread of music and voices that called from the distance.

As I neared the end of the corridor, I saw a staircase going down. Next to the stairwell, a large bay window took up a good share of the wall, and as I pressed against it, what I saw made me jump back.

The staircase led into an amphitheater. The walls were painted black with gold trim. Tiers of shelves lined the walls, holding at least a hundred brass candelabras. Within each flickered three ivory candles. On one wall hung a stretched skin. I could tell it was human skin from the shape, and runes were drawn in blood on it. The key to opening the Demon Gate, I thought.

A large flat stone of black marble rested in the center of the room, and to either side of the altar, a seven-foot-tall blood-red pillar candle illuminated the stone. A ring of cloaked figures surrounded the altar, each in a gray robe belted with a red, black, and gold braided sash. At the head of the altar, one of the figures held a long sword, serrated and brutal.

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