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Kaden took a few steps. He rubbed the back of his head as if trying to gather his thoughts before he eyed Declan. “They have tattoos like mine, a boy and girl. They’re different—the tattoos—the center is not the same. One has a symbol that looks like lightning and other has scales, like the scales of justice.”
“Shit, it sounds like he’s already got his hands on two of the marks.” Ransome slammed his empty glass down and Francesca jumped. “This is not good, boys.” He grabbed the whiskey decanter and proceeded to pour himself another glass. “Not good at all.”
“What of the girl? Is she all right?” Francesca asked as a tear slid down her cheek. Ana had to strain to hear her words but the pain that sat upon her face was awful. This young teenager meant something to the necromancer.
“She’s asleep, too.” He lowered his gaze. “Her hair is the same color as yours.”
“Who is she?” Declan asked, moving closer to Ana’s side as he did so.
“Francesca’s sister,” Kaden answered quietly. “I think,” he added quickly. “I mean she looks an awful lot like you.”
Francesca didn’t say a word. Her face went blank and her gaze fell to the floor.
“How the hell do you know this stuff?” Nico asked, his face as dark as his thoughts. “If you ever pull that kind of crap with me I’ll kick your ass but good.” He tossed a look at Ana. “I don’t care who the hell you are.”
“He’s the fifth mark.” Declan answered. “His gift is sight.”
Kaden nodded. “The demon Samael is linked to Francesca. I tapped into their bond. The images aren’t clear and sometimes they’re not quite right. Like, he might not be there right now. What I just sensed could be days old.”
“None of this means squat if we can’t find Samael.” Ransome eyed the teen. “You nail down a location while you were trespassing in her brain?”
Kaden shook his head. “No.” He glanced at Ana. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right—” Her words were cut off as the door to the office swung open, letting in loud music, voices, and the general party atmosphere from below.
“No worries, kids. I know where the demon is.” Cale strode into the room, crossed to the sidebar, and eyed the selection of bottles on the wall. “You got any scotch?” He asked the werewolf. “I prefer single malt, but at the moment anything will do.”
“Who the hell are you?” Ransome growled as he took a step toward the newcomer.
“He’s one of us,” Declan answered. “A Seraph warrior.”
The wolf glared at him and nodded. “Help yourself, the glasses are below.”
Cale grabbed the bottle. “I’ve no time for social grace tonight and do apologize, for I won’t be in need of a glass.”
Ana saw the flash of anger that crossed Ransome’s face. She turned to Cale. “You said you knew where the demon lord is? Care to elaborate?”
The Seraph took a long swig from the bottle and then set it back down. His gaze swept over all of them. Ana had a bad feeling she wasn’t going to like his answer.
He nodded toward the door. “He’s downstairs.”
Chapter 12
“Son of a mother—” Declan stared at the Seraph in surprise. “Samael is here?” he repeated.
Cale nodded once more and cocked his head toward the door. “I followed him in not more than five minutes ago.”
“You followed him in and did nothing?” Declan was incensed.
Cale smiled at the sorcerer though the tone of his voice was frosty. “You forget to whom you are speaking, O’Hara. I’m not stupid and the demon lord is not alone.”
“Well what are we waiting for?” Nico’s voice erupted from the other side of the room. “Let’s get go get him. Finish this.”
“Hold on a second. I’ll not have my establishment leveled because you want to go ape-shit and attack without thought.” Ransome spoke up before turning to Cale. “What the hell is he doing down there?”
“Shots at the bar.” Cale shrugged his shoulders. “It seems Samael enjoys his tequila almost as much as I like my scotch.”
“I don’t understand. We should have had some warning. How could we not feel him? Not know he was nearby?” Ana asked. It was obvious she didn’t trust Cale.
