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“Maybe this isn’t the work of Charles. Maybe he’s just taking advantage of it? He might have stumbled on this—and I think I know who did this. Or at least, I have a general idea. I doubt they even know he exists.”
“They who?”
I stared over at Wade. We hadn’t told him about Shadow Wing; we hadn’t told him about any aspect of the demon war. So he wouldn’t know about the Demon Underground, either. Debating whether to say anything without first talking to Delilah and Camil e, I opted for caution’s sake.
Wade and I were friends again, but he’d have to prove himself before I could trust him again.
“I can’t tel you that right now . . . you’l have to wait for later and trust me, you’l understand why.
But I am going to tel you this: Be very careful down here. Go after Charles only. Forget everything else you see—it’s in your own best interests. There are powers far, far greater than you or me at work, and though I can’t talk about them, I need you to obey me on this.”
He considered my words. Final y, he nodded. “Very wel . I’l take your word for it now, but I want to know everything when we get out of this. If we get out of this.”
“Leave the lanterns . . . we are not freeing these creatures. Now, let’s go.” And off we went again, weaving our way through the cavern.
The cave dropped off to the right into a darkened abyss, and we skirted the edge with care, working our way back to the center.
Limestone flowed down from the ceiling, forming a thick column of stalagmites and stalactites, a statuary of twisted flowstone. In the center of the fal s, an opening al owed dripping water from the ceiling to trickle down, fal ing into the hol owed-out rimstone pool, where the mineralized liquid slowly ate away at the floor, creating the basin. Fortified by the continual drip, the wal s had slowly built up over the centuries; now they were ornamented with amorphous, bulging pil ows, looking for al the world like fossilized cauliflower.
As we worked our way through the cave, skirting delicate stalactites and stalagmites, we fol owed the trail that Charles had worn in the dust. Vampires were light on their feet, but he was stil new and hadn’t learned to lessen his presence.
The light from the demon lamps reverberated from wal to wal , creating flickering shadows that looked like creatures creeping alongside us, and now that I knew the lights were imprisoned spirits, my stomach twisted. What if they got out? What if their caretakers were near? What if we were caught down here without Carter or Vanzir to vouch for us?
We skirted the central sculpture and found ourselves on the other side of the cavern. To our left was another drop-off; to our right, another passage. I edged my way up to the overlook and peeked over the edge. A sheer black drop. I held the flashlight over the edge but the light barely penetrated ten feet down.
Wade crouched beside me. He picked up a smal pebble and dropped it and we listened, waiting to hear it bounce against the bottom, but there was no sound—not even a faint thunk—and I glanced up at him.
“We do not want to go over. Not without some damned good ropes and lights.” I slowly backed away and Wade fol owed me. We wended our way through the narrow passage to the back of the cavern. The scent of blood led us, and as we slipped through the tunnel, I noticed patches of green viro-mortis slime dappling the limestone wal s. I motioned to them.
“Do not let them touch you. We’re vampires, so they can’t hurt us too bad, but they’re fucking nasty and you don’t want to get them on anybody who’s stil alive. And if you see a purple variety, avoid them at al costs. Those can hurt us.”
He nodded, turning sideways to slip along behind me.
The passage ran along for about fifteen feet before ending at a fork. Wade, who was hungrier than I was, could smel the blood more easily. He motioned to the right and we turned. Another five feet found us standing at another opening. Peeking through, we could see the standard old-school setup.
A coffin sat in the corner—and it was a nice one. There was a recliner next to it, a battery-powered light, and a smal bookcase overflowing with books. Then I noticed that the wal s of the chamber were brick. We were looking into another section of Underground Seattle, also adjacent to the hidden cavern. It looked like someone had broken through the brick to get into the cavern. I had no idea whether Charles Shalimar or the Demon Underground had been responsible for discovering the connection.
As I entered, slowly, I could see that the coffin was empty. Shit. Were we going to be chasing him to the ends of the Earth? What the fuck was he doing running around? He couldn’t have that many errands. Then I saw the bloody clothes on the floor and motioned for Wade to stay where he was.
I slipped over to the opposite door and peeked out.
Bingo. Another chamber, with yet another exit leading out into what was doubtless one of the Underground tunnels. This room was lit by more of the demon lamps. And in the center of the chamber, a tub, fil ed with steaming water. Nearby, what looked like a jury-rigged pipe led down to the bath. Charles had been siphoning off somebody’s water system, it looked like.
In the tub was our man. Charles was washing—total y focused on scrubbing the blood off him.>“I think I found it,” I whispered, keeping my voice so low that only another Supe could hear me.
Wade nodded as I traced my hand along the crack. It was in the shape of a door, and there must be a trigger stone. But as I felt for some indentation, protrusion, or other anomaly, a shriek behind us caught me off guard.
I whirled to find myself staring at a wispy cloud, tendrils emerging from a vaporous cloud that coiled like a serpent in front of me. Wade slowly turned, and I could feel him stiffen, staring at the creature. The tentacles of fog danced, serpentine in the darkness, glowing with a faint incandescence. They spiraled, reaching out to brush my face. I steeled myself, forcing myself not to move. Until we knew what it wanted, whether it would be friend or foe, I didn’t want to startle it.
The form stretched, writhing in the air, as if in slow motion, and brought one slow tendril around to hook over my shoulder. I didn’t want it to encircle my neck and quickly stepped back from the wisps of fog.
As I moved, there was a sudden hiss from the creature and the tendril that had been trying to loop around my neck lashed back, then whipped across my face, leaving a stinging slash.
Crap. Not good! I suddenly realized that, vampire or not, Wade didn’t have any formal training in how to fight. I’d have to protect him as wel as take care of myself.
But he surprised me. He did a quick cartwheel out of the way and came up in a crouch, reaching into his jacket for something. I didn’t have time to see what, but I decided that if the spirit could materialize long enough to touch me, I could touch it. I whirled, kicking toward the center, and was pleasantly surprised when my heel made contact. The cloud form moved back, just a little, but enough to tel me that we could fight it.
It was materializing even more as we watched. The vaporous shape was condensing, congealing into a creature right out of Lovecraftian nightmare. Hideous olive-green tendrils streamed out from every side—there must have been fifty of them. Visions of the Karsetii demon flashed through my mind, but this was no Karsetii. Ghost or demon—I did not know, but it was after us and that was enough for me.
