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Shamas nodded. “You’re right. It is dangerous. We do not need fire elementals running rogue over here, and believe me, they can come through. I can close it, but whoever opened it is going to know sooner or later. If they’re not focused on something else, they’ll feel the spell break, because this isn’t a naturally occurring vortex.”
“Do it. The minute you’re done, we’ll head topside and take out the club. And…crap…what about the werewolves? We can’t just leave them. Somebody might decide to come down and slit their throats to keep them from talking, or out of spite.”
Smoky shrugged. “Rozurial and I can take them through the Ionyc Seas. We’ll take them to the FH-CSI—the medic unit can take care of them.”
“Good thinking. Shamas, while you close that, we’ll get the guys out of here.”
I started to pick the locks on the cells, but Menolly motioned me aside and just broke the lock by yanking open the door. She bent the chain link, tearing the manacles from the wall. Smoky gathered up two of the men. Roz took hold of the third, and they vanished from sight.
“One of these days, I expect one of them to overshoot and end up in the middle of Puget Sound,” Camille said, attempting a smile. “How’s Shamas doing with the vortex? I’ve a good mind to go check on him.”
“I wouldn’t.” Morio grabbed her arm. “If he’s still working on closing the thing, and you disturb him, it might get ugly. That’s pure flame—the core essence of fire. And the last thing we need is a rush of energy to come flowing through to light everything ablaze.”
She acquiesced. “You have a point—oh, here he comes.”
Shamas hurried over. “Closed, but whoever built it was one fucking powerful sorcerer. Telazhar?”
“Telazhar is a necromancer, not a sorcerer.” I scratched my head. “Jaycee…I don’t think so. But Van…I’ll bet you Van opened it up. I had the feeling he was the more powerful of the pair.”
“Well, whoever it was did a damned good job of warding it, and you can guarantee he knows it’s been shut down. So we’d better get up to that club now.” Shamas grabbed my hand and started leading me back to the door. Just then Smoky and Roz reappeared.
“They get settled in?”
“Yeah.” Roz frowned. “They were in pretty sorry shape.”
“Well, we’ll have to worry about them later. Come on, we have to rumble.” I swung onto the ladder, followed by Shamas. “Let’s go take them out, guys.” And so we crept up the rungs, on our way to what I felt in my bones was going to be one of the toughest battles we’d faced yet.
Chapter 22
As we approached the landing leading into the back of the club, I began to get nervous. But Menolly was going first, so I couldn’t see if she was about to run into anybody. As she shimmied off the ladder, there was a shout and sounds of a scuffle. Crap—someone was up there.
I swung myself over the edge, pulling Lysanthra out as I did so, and saw Menolly wrestling with a Tregart. He appeared to be the only one, and as I hustled over to help her, she fastened on his neck and he stopped struggling. As she drained him of blood, he went limp in her arms.
As he fell to the floor, she turned and I saw a stake sticking out of her turtleneck. I started to scream but she motioned for me to keep quiet and pulled it out. Blood oozed slowly out of her side.
“Another four inches and he would have dusted me. But he missed my heart. This will heal.” She looked shaken—just in the slightest—and she tossed the stake over the edge of the landing. “Fucker was hiding in the shadows. By the looks of his weapons stash, he’s a clone of Roz—prepared for anything.”
I examined his body. “Hey, he has another one of those magical stun guns, and it looks fully charged. I handed it to Vanzir. “Here, you can use this.”
He took it, nodding. “Let’s get in there. Who knows if he had time to raise an alarm. What else he have?”
“Various daggers—be careful, they look like they might have poison on them. Smells goblin in origin. The usual chains these fuckers like to use, a second stake, and…hmmm…a ring of keys!” I held them up, then pocketed them. “Want to make a bet one of them opens those cells down below?”
Menolly examined the door he’d been guarding. “This door isn’t locked.” She yanked it open, almost pulling it off the hinges. As it went swinging back, she stormed in. Shamas and I followed, and then the rest.
We spilled into a back room. Music pounded from somewhere inside the club. Whoever was out in front wasn’t going to hear us until we started tossing furniture around. The room was obviously an employee lounge, with long tables, a counter with a microwave and coffee maker on it, a refrigerator, and a series of lockers. Camille stopped, pulling out her cell phone.
I stared at her. “Who the hell are you calling?”
“We promised Trytian a piece of the action. If we don’t stick to the bargain, we make another nasty enemy.” She paused, holding up one finger. “Trytian, get your ass down to the Energy Exchange. We’re infiltrating from the back. If you hurt any of us, I’ll take your butt down so hard you won’t be sitting for weeks. Got it?…You what?…Right…think again, hotshot. Okay, see you in the fray. We’re not waiting for you.”
She hung up and began yanking open the lockers, dumping the contents. I was about to ask what he’d said to her but, with one glance at Smoky, decided on discretion. Trytian was crude, and his manners over the phone weren’t any better than they were in person.
Camille tossed through the lockers. “Not much here, a few skimpy outfits, mostly lingerie. I’ll bet we find a few brothel rooms. This one’s locked. Smoky?”
Smoky broke the lock on it and Camille opened it.
“Hello…I think I found Van’s locker.” She motioned to Shamas. “You know what any of this crap is?”
