Ascension Page 16

  As they made their way toward Castillo Drive, she scanned the shadows and sniffed the air. Most of the bodies had been cleaned off the road, but the lingering stench of death still mingled with the scent of the bay. She glanced over her shoulder. Ryker and Geoff were also scouting the roads ahead. When they’d reached the same conclusion that, for now, they were alone on the streets, Kyana set off at an easy jog.

  Adrenaline pumped through her blood, warming her chilled skin. Her senses on high alert, she scanned every shadow and darkened window. Anyone, human or non, was the enemy. They couldn’t let their guard down.

  She stopped at an intersection and pulled the troupe into the shadows. Squatting, she watched the darkness. Their target was almost within sight. However, the fine hairs on the back of her neck were tingling. She strained her ears, but the only sounds she detected were Hank’s labored breaths.

  “What is it?” Hank’s whisper sounded like a shout in the stillness.

  Kyana raised her head, sniffed the air. Rot and decay burned her nose. “Things are about to get interesting.”

  “I don’t see anything,” Geoff said, his voice barely a whisper on the wind.

  “Me either,” Ryker admitted. “Do we risk it?”

  “See what?” Hank asked.

  “Leeches.” Kyana couldn’t see them either, but she could sure as hell smell them. She looked at Ryker. “They’re looking for something.”

  His silver eyes swirled. “Or someone.”

  Stay and fight, or run like hell? If not for Hank, Kyana would have opted for a good fight. She owed them an ass-kicking for the knife wound still itching her ribs. Not to mention the burns. But now wasn’t the time for revenge.

  “Ryker, if they make it by our minions, keep them off our asses.”

  Then she sent Farrel and Crag in one direction and Larkin and Cahir in the other.

  Satisfied, Kyana fisted her hand in Hank’s sleeve. “Stay close, don’t make a sound, and you might just live to see your son again.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kyana dragged Hank behind her as she took off toward King Street. They made it the last hundred yards to the police station undetected. She scanned the single-story building. Every possible entrance—be it door or window—would bring anyone in hearing distance down on their heads if she broke through them. She motioned to Geoff to guard the human, then swung her body onto the roof and pressed her belly to the shingles.

  Not wanting to attract any attention, she slid her way from one end of the building to the other, then flipped over the side to examine the back windows. Just as she’d hoped, one was broken. There was hardly a building left in the city that hadn’t been broken into or out of by either terrified humans or hunting Dark Breeds. The police station seemed to be no exception.

  She lifted herself through the tiny opening and into a bathroom, where her boots crunched against broken glass. Making her way quickly through the building, she searched for any signs of movement before heading back to the front door and unlocking it from the inside.

  As soon as the door popped open, she reached out and grabbed Hank by his shirt, yanking him inside. “What do you need?”

  Hank pointed down the long, dark hallway. “The computers are that way.”

  He shuffled his feet down the dark hall as he was told. When he entered the large room filled with quiet computer banks, he looked at Kyana. “I have to power up the equipment. It’s going to create quite a glow.”

  Just lovely. They’d made it inside undetected, now the light would attract every species of bogeyman roaming the streets. “Find something to cover the windows.”

  Hank picked his way across the room. “Or we could just close the blinds.”

  “Not dark enough. Trust me, you don’t want them to know we’re in here.”

  Ryker thrust a pile of blankets into Kyana’s arms. “I think he gets it.”

  “Where’d you get these?” Kyana asked.

  He pointed over his shoulder, where half a dozen sleeping bags and kerosene lamps lay in a pile.

  She pawned the blankets off on Geoffrey, and the three men made short work of turning the room pitch black while Kyana double-checked the closed offices for any signs of survivors or Dark Breeds she might have missed on her first pass.

  When she returned to the guys, the room was bathed in total darkness. Though she still didn’t like their chances of remaining undetected with the extra light, she had no choice but to give her okay. They clicked on a desk lamp and left the overhead lights off.

  Hank rubbed his hands together, then began pushing buttons. Electronic equipment whirred to life. Monitors flickered on. Green lights glowed. Kyana cupped her ears, the intense whistle of radio waves so close to her head making her eyes throb. She backed into the hallway. Zeus, she hated electronics.

  After several long minutes, Hank leaned back in his chair. “There ya go.”

  Breaths held, everyone but Kyana moved forward. She could almost taste roasted traitor on her tongue. “Who does it belong to?”

  “I don’t know. It’s running now.”

  “What? I thought that thing read the print and ba-da-bing, we have the owner.”

  Hank shook his head. “Only on television. It takes time to run through all the databases. And then there’s still no guarantee we’ll know the owner.”

  “Well, how long does this take?”

  Even in the darkened room, Kyana could see the color drain from Hank’s face. “It could take hours . . . but more likely days.”

  The tickle of approaching dawn penetrated the dim room. Kyana could shift if the sun rose. Geoffrey could not. No way was she going to let him get trapped in here until it cycled back to nightfall.

  “We don’t have hours, and we certainly don’t have days. We need this information now so we can get out of here.”

  “There’s nothing more I can do but wait.” Hank stood, his knees popping. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Stop the scan,” Ryker said, rubbing his eyes.

  “What? Why?” Frustration built in Kyana’s chest, and she wanted to lash out and smash the glass monitors. “We need to give this a chance.”

  “Stop the scan,” he repeated, directing his gaze at Hank. “Tell us what equipment you need. We’re taking it with us.”

  “Taking it where, exactly?” Geoffrey asked, leaning his hip against the metal desk beside him.

  “Below. Marcus has a television, so we know electronic equipment will work in Spirits. Even if we have to use magic to power it up, we know it can work.” Ryker rubbed his forehead as though trying to scrub away a headache. “Listen, this thing might have to run for days. We can’t leave it here and chance someone, something, shutting it down, or this place getting ransacked. We can’t ask Hank to stay here for days and risk his life more than he has already. If we have to leave it running and leave Hank in charge of it, we take both him and the equipment to safety.”

  His dictatorial tone left no room for argument. Since he wasn’t discarding the fingerprint idea, Kyana refrained from pointing out that he wasn’t in charge.

  “How’re we going to get it back to the fort?” Geoffrey wore the faint trace of a grin, as though he thought Ryker had lost his mind. “I’m good, but even I don’t have a hundred arms to tote all of this and still help protect the human. None of us do.”

  Ryker made his way to the door. He eased it open, allowing predawn light to filter in through the crack. In a loud whisper, he called for Crag. Kyana could hear nothing but their muffled conversation, and then the door closed and Ryker returned.

  “Taken care of,” he said, bending to help Hank unplug a computer tower. He looked over his shoulder at Geoffrey. “We’ll tote this stuff to the door. I want you on the other side ready to take it to the car.”

  “What car?” Kyana demanded.

  “The car Crag is finding for us. This time, we’ll take our chances in exchange for speed. We’ll drive the damned thing right up the drawbridge if we have t
o, but we should be able to outrun whatever might be stupid enough to chase us.”

  Kyana bit back a groan. Okay, so truthfully, she had discounted a vehicle as the method to get to the police department because it would have been loud and noisy. But she’d also discounted it because she really didn’t do well with motion sickness. Charon’s ferry made her queasy. She’d been inside a car only once, and when the mad, crazy taxi driver finally dropped her off at her destination he’d charged her extra to reupholster his cab. Three plane rides in her entire existence had also proved to be very bad ideas.

  This did not brighten her mood.

  “Can’t we find a wheelbarrow or something?” she asked, only half joking.

  Geoffrey watched her, his faint grin now a full-blown smirk. He knew her problem, had been by her side on one of those fateful plane rides. “Just aim out the window, Kyana. These pants are damned hard to clean.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kyana choked down the queasiness rolling her near-empty stomach as she watched Hank, Geoffrey, and Ryker carry large pieces of computer equipment out the police station door. She hadn’t even gotten into the damned vehicle yet and was already carsick.

  “Here.” Ryker stood before her holding a small vial and a bottle of water. He poured the powder into the bottle, swirled it, then handed it to Kyana. “Drink this.”

  Kyana didn’t need to take the bottle to know it was something she didn’t want to swallow. “It smells like rotten eggs.” She lowered her voice. “I’m trying not to embarrass myself here.”

  “It will settle your stomach.”

  “That obvious?” Kyana winced. “Where’d you get this?”

  “The people I port only turn that putrid shade of green if they suffer from motion sickness.” He smiled. “I keep some antinausea potions on me, just in case I get passengers like you.”

  Would have been nice to know when he’d ported her out to that damned island.

  He pushed the bottle into Kyana’s hand. “Drink.”

  Resisting the urge to hold her nose, Kyana downed the liquid. Her throat closed. Her stomach rebelled but she managed to keep it under control. It tasted like she’d swallowed a fart.

  Grimacing, she handed the bottle back to him. “Do all potions smell or taste like bodily functions?”

  Ryker rubbed her back for several long, soothing moments before answering. “If it’ll keep you on your feet, and not with your head tucked between your knees, all of us will thank the gods for this foul-tasting brew.”

  “We’re almost done,” Hank said, his voice carrying from one end of the building to the other, silencing her retort. “I don’t know if we’ll need all this, but I’d rather bring it than have to come back here again.”

  “If I have to get sick, I’m going to aim for your shoes,” Kyana muttered as she pushed past Ryker and made her way to the door. Geoff jumped out of the back of the battered pickup Crag had commandeered and draped his arm around Kyana’s shoulders. “You ready for this?”

  She glared at him. “If I leave now, I could probably beat you guys back and not have to ride in that stupid invention.”

  “You’d trust us to keep your cop alive? Look on the bright side, you can hang your head over the side and won’t get vomit on anyone’s clothes.”

  “Bite me.”

  Geoff wiggled his eyebrows. “I’d love to, but you smell pretty bad.”

  “Damned potions,” Kyana mumbled, easing out from under Geoff’s arm. She looked at the sky. The blackness of night was giving way to the gray of dawn. “We need to get moving.”

  “I’m done.” Hank set a box in the bed of the truck. “Now what?”

  “Drive. Don’t stop for any reason. If something gets in your way, run it over,” Ryker told him. “We’ll fight off anything that gets close.”

  Geoff bounded into the back of the pickup and held out a hand to assist Kyana. She ignored it, leaped in, and found a place near the cab to stand.

  Ryker found his way to her side, his body tense and alert as they waited for the minions to pull themselves over the bed. The foursome settled around the boxes of electronics, then Ryker tapped the hood.

  The engine roared to life. “Hang on to something,” Hank yelled. The truck banged into gear and shot over the curb and onto the road.

  Wind whipped her hair into her face. As she focused on the street, her eyes watered. The breeze carried the stench of danger, and Kyana’s keen eyes picked out silhouettes crouched curbside.

  “There,” she warned.

  “Things are about to get fun,” Geoff said, moving to stand at her other side.

  Groups of Dark Breeds approached from every direction. She gripped the knife at her back in her damp fist. Geoff did the same. She glanced at Ryker and frowned. He had no weapon.

  Just lovely. She retrieved her dagger from her boot and passed it to him.

  “I don’t need that.” His eyes darkened.

  “You can’t mesmerize them all with your swirling eyes.” She forced the weapon into his hand.

  He stubbornly tucked the dagger into his waistband. Kyana moved closer to the driver’s door.

  “It’s party time.” Geoff laughed as the first body flew in their direction.

  The Dark Breeds seemed to understand if they took out Hank, they’d be able to take out the vehicle and leave the others open to attack. They came at him in groups of twos and threes. Kyana used her fist and her knife, working through them as quickly as possible, but still, they came.

  Bodies dove at them, springing off the roads like they’d been picked up and tossed by funnel clouds. A fist connected with her lower back. Kyana roared with rage. She spun around, twisted the Leech’s neck in one quick motion, then shoved its body over the side of the pickup. The sickening sound of bone and muscle giving way under the truck’s tires brought great satisfaction to her aching body.

  Her joy was short-lived as another barrage of Dark Breeds attacked. Hank fired out the window in rapid succession with one hand, the other frantically trying to keep the truck under control. The gun didn’t stop them, but he was right, it did slow them down.

  But not for long.

  The closer they got to the fort, the faster the demons attacked. When they neared the end of King Street, a row of Dark Breeds blocked their path. Kyana hit the cab with her fist.

  “Go through them!” She sliced the throat of the Lychen trying to make it through the window to Hank. Blood spurted on her face, sprayed her vest. The body collapsed in the bed of the truck, only to be casually tossed out like garbage by Geoffrey.

  “Hang on,” Hank shouted. He floored the pedal, pushing the old pickup to its limits. Though some Dark Breeds were smart enough to leap from Hank’s path, some weren’t so quick. One hit the front of the truck with enough force to throw its body into the air and back into the windshield with a loud crash. Hank threw his arm up to shield himself from the imploding glass.

  Ryker reached over the cab, grabbed the Dark Breed, and slung it to the street. He might not be skilled with weapons, but he held his own. His face showed evidence of battle. Bloody nose. Busted lip. Gashed cheek. She watched as he sent several Dark Breeds flying with nothing more than a wave of his hand. His telekinetic abilities kept several more Dark Breeds at bay, and those that made it through, he quickly dispensed of with his fist, the borrowed dagger still tucked in the waistband of his camos. It was apparent that he had earned the rank of general in Ares’s army and hadn’t merely been given the title. She owed him an apology. One he probably wouldn’t get, but it was nice to know she could count on him to have her back when things got ugly.

  She ignored the blows to her face and back, making those who struck her pay even while her tender flesh screamed for mercy. Geoff’s roar ripped Kyana’s attention from her duty of protecting the human. She turned to find a demon, his massive arms wrapped around Geoff’s throat, attempting to pull him out of the truck as the vehicle swerved onto Castillo Drive and plowed through an overturned horse buggy.<
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  Without moving, Ryker sent the Dark Breed flying out of the vehicle and somehow managed to keep Geoff from going over the side too.

  Geoff wiped blood from his nose. “Thanks, mate.”

  Ryker nodded and returned his attention to the fight.

  Kyana squinted against the wind to focus on the fort that was now in full view. However, an army of Dark Breeds stood between the truck and safety. They wouldn’t make it without help. Kyana grabbed her flare from her hip and fired twice to alert the sentinels that they were under attack.

  Hank ignored the parking area, bounced up the curb, and charged forward to the old pay station. Arrows flew from the bastions, raining fire down around them. Kyana jumped to the ground and ripped open the driver’s door.

  She hauled Hank out. “Move it,” she yelled, half dragging, half carrying him to the nearest sentinel. “Get him inside!” She waited only long enough to make sure her orders were followed, before returning to stand with Ryker and Geoff. Even with the archer’s arrows, they were outnumbered.

  She looked at Geoff. A huge grin lit up his face. “What about it, lass? Head-on or tails tucked?”

  If they retreated, there was no way the sentinels could get the drawbridge raised again before the Dark Breeds followed them into the fort. Ten to one odds weren’t good for them, but promised to be interesting.

  “Lock ’er down,” Kyana yelled at the sentinel still manning his post. He hesitated for half a second. “Now,” she snarled, spurring him into action. She looked at Ryker, then Geoff. “We can’t risk them getting inside.”

  “Which one?”

  Kyana had gone on enough hunts—and been outnumbered enough times—to know what Geoffrey’s question meant. There was always a leader. The one standing off calling the shots. That was the one they’d go after first.

  Kyana pointed to the big beast standing on the low wall next to the bay. The creature spread its wings and cocked its head in Kyana’s direction. “The Hatchling.”