Blood Finale (God Wars #5) (18 page)

Fes, however, was building a following for the restaurant, and an article was scheduled to appear in the newspaper in two days—the food critic had raved about the fish choices on the menu. "Thanks," Fes nodded to Bill as he accepted the generous portion of bourbon in a glass.

"Killings in Atlanta, Paris and London," Opal walked in and placed a tablet in front of Bill. Bill took his seat and flipped through the information. The homicidal virus had spread throughout Earth and people were dying everywhere.

"What will they do when they run out of poor people?" Fes asked, shaking his head. That was the one thing that continued—the senseless killings. At least we hadn't seen the apparent gates of hell open up again to swallow people—in the physical sense.

The video was still on the internet and many were screaming that it was the end times. In a way, they could be right. The same was happening in the Reth and Campiaan Alliances; images continuously shown of people dying when attacked by hellish creatures. Everybody was afraid.

"Grace and Devin say they can't get information fast enough when the killings take place," Jayson shuffled in, raking fingers through his hair in frustration. "They've saved a few, and the lion snakes have taken down several killers, but that seems to be too little too late."

"I heard from Trevor and Kooper," I said. "More gates are cropping up. Macy, Luanne and Elizabeth are finding them everywhere. Jerigar and several Larentii are ferrying them around, but they're getting tired."

"Any sign of where those creatures are now?" Opal asked, taking a barstool next to mine.

"None," I shrugged. "Du'Ferias is just a shell, now. Kooper has his agents searching for other likely spots, and Reah and her crew are following leads, but so far there's nothing. They could be going back and forth in time and we'd never know it. I have no idea how many Sirenali they have, but it has to be quite a few."

"Meanwhile, Song and Serenade are scheduled at Desh's in two days and the first of those arena events is in four," Bill shook his head. "So far, nothing has been announced for the arena in Chicago, but it will only take a blast on the internet to bring people in for whatever sick activities they have planned."

"Or whether that's only a diversion from the real activity," Jayson said. "I hate this. I hate not having a clue what's going on."

"How's Terry?" Opal asked.

"He's fine—I took him to the shooting range today and then handed him his Ranos pistol afterward—he's pretty good with a gun."

"I worry that he's not safe staying at his home," Bill sighed. "He could stay here or at Hank's place."

"I'll mention that to him," Jayson agreed. "He's working with the insurance company to rebuild his office. I told him not to worry about money."

"He's keeping in touch with Marco at SouthStar—Marco lets him know how his family is doing. They like it there. It's sort of a vacation for them."

"I'm glad they're away from this," Opal grimaced as she studied the tablet over Bill's shoulder. "It says here that people—the ones who can, anyway—are walking or driving out of New Orleans in droves. Campsites are overwhelmed with people trying to get away from poor areas. They're terrified the killers will show up at their doorsteps."

"The area has been hit twice already," Bill said. "They're not waiting for a third strike, but that doesn't mean that those bent on killing won't follow them."

"More than two hundred thousand dead worldwide, that can be attributed to this 'cleansing effort,' as the politicians are calling it," Opal said. "With more strikes coming in regularly. The news has even stopped talking about the latest celebrity scandal and concentrated on this genocide instead."

"I hear some of them speculating on where the next mass murder will take place," I muttered. "How sick is that? Websites are set up for that, with people prepared in certain cities to drive to the scene and watch the carnage. Sales of bullet-proof vests are through the roof, gun and ammunition sales have skyrocketed and who knows where the population is getting weapons in countries where they're not readily available?"

"Somebody will always look for a way to profit," Bill muttered. "Guns are likely coming from Russia and the U.S. A nine-millimeter submachine gun was used today in Paris to kill twenty-six people. That one came from Russia—no doubt about it."

"The police are slow to respond—I hear some of them have either been shot trying to defend victims or, in a couple of cases, joined in the massacre."

"It only takes a bit of obsession on those who are so-inclined," I said. "They act on their fantasies and with politicians backing them, few have been apprehended."

"You discussing the state of the nation?" Lissa folded in with Gavin and her Larentii.

"And a few other things, like where the weapons are coming from," Opal nodded.

"I've been hanging around the arena in Chicago the last few days, hoping to get information," Jayson said. "Nothing. The office has information on the reservation and payment, which leads back to Zeke and Obediah Tanner, but we already knew those things. There's nothing else, and the folks in the office don't care, as long as the money's good."

"Sirenali," Lissa shook her head. "Normal protocol flies out the window if they're involved."

"What are you doing up so late?" I asked, turning to Lissa. "I hear people call you queenie pants."

"I hear that's making the rounds," Gavin grumped. "I heard you were having drinks. I suggested we drop by."

"Then have a seat," Opal said. "I'll pour."

* * *

Reah's Journal

"Tory, is this going to work?" I blinked up at my High Demon mate. He and several other High Demons had been training at Desh's for the past three days so we'd be ready when Song and Serenade arrived in two days for dinner.

"I sure hope so," he replied, tucking my hair behind an ear and leaning down to kiss me.

"We've already sent your father home—he was ready to decapitate a customer," I pointed out.

"Dad has never had to work in the service industry," Tory grinned. "Ry, Nissa and I worked occasionally at Niff's. We know how to be nice to people, or at least pretend to be nice."

"This is our chance to take those women, save the children they've enslaved and give Kay closure," I pointed out. "We can't fuck this up."

"I want this almost as much as you," he kissed me again. "Nissa tells me they have the first batch of spelled Thifilathi swords ready."

"I sure hope they work instead of melting when you get your hands on them," I said. "A Thifilathi has never handled weapons before."

"They weren't needed before."

"I get that. We've never faced rogue-backed creatures before."

"Nissa says they've tested these in the hottest fires, and they've maintained integrity. She says they'll stay sharp and can't be used against the High Demon wielder."

"Let's hope you don't get overwhelmed anyway. How are the Larentii doing on the modified nexus echo net?"

"Sali says that they've done a few test runs and things are looking good," Tory said. "I hope they get it in place soon—I'm getting itchy about this."

"Like the other shoe is about to drop, as your mother says?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

"How many Thifilathi would it take—in your estimation—to combat what showed up via one of those gates?"

"Dragon, Crane and Caylon have discussed this with us. It looks as if twenty or thirty High Demons might handle that many monsters, as long as we're prepared and have some backup in case some of them try to get past us."

"Who is set up for that?" I asked.

"Trevor and Kooper have a bunch of Saa Thalarr who aren't working elsewhere. They're armed with Ranos pistols and rifles in case rogues show up. A couple of healers will be there to ferry civilians out of the way if things get nasty."

"And they can provide medical care if it's needed," I said. "We just can't use power the enemy will recognize."

"That's what Dragon thought," he agreed. "I'm worried about what the rogues might come up with later if our plan works."

"Tory, that's frightening," I shuddered.

"Baby, stop worrying, okay?" He pulled me against him in a tight hug. "Just promise me you'll head to SouthStar if things don't go well."

"I can't just run away," I muttered.

"Karzac has already put you together once. That scares me. I need you. Lexsi needs you. Ry and the others need you."

"Tory, the people who are dying need me, too." I watched as his face turned grim and he looked away to hide the curl of smoke drifting from his nostrils. "Look, it can't be helped. We are what we are and we were asked to do what we could."

"And yet the Mighty Heart almost got you killed," he turned back to me. "What has she done for you? For us?"

"You have a short memory," I pulled away from him. "If she hadn't intervened, we'd be overrun by rogues already. She bought us time, Torevik Rath, and I hope you remember that." I stalked away without a backward glance.

* * *

Tory's Journal

"Way to mess up, dude." Sali shook his head later as we shared a beer at a tavern in Cedar's Falls.

"I always mess up," I said. I wasn't drunk yet, but I was working on it. "I don't mean to—it just happens. Ry says all I have to do is open my mouth and the wrong shit comes out."

"Your brother may have gotten all the diplomacy," Sali agreed. "You seem to be all raw dumbfuckery."

"Thanks for taking my side of things," I growled. Smoke followed the comment and I didn't try to hold it back.

"Dude, you need to slow down. Your emotions come to the fore whenever you're with Reah—you can't help it. Just remember to think before opening your mouth."

"Aurelius says the same thing," I nodded after a moment.

"Aurelius would know," Sali said. "I figure he's seen just about everything by now. Besides, I was an idiot once. Took the Falchani ten years to beat it out of me."

"You mean you never make a mistake?" I offered Sali a skeptical frown.

"Oh, I make plenty, but they're calculated mistakes," he grinned. "Come on, let's loosen you up with half an hour of blade practice."

"Fine. We can discuss how to apologize to Reah while we're at it," I said.

"And I'll have an apology for your gibe about Breanne," he pointed a finger at me. I'd forgotten she was Sali's mate.

"Fuck," I muttered.

* * *

Hank's Journal

"Just keep this between us," Wisdom advised.

I nodded—how could I do otherwise? A visit to Breanne was in the offing and I wasn't about to spoil that. What we—
I
—had done, I almost couldn't comprehend. "You'll know when the time is right," Wisdom said, as if he were reading my thoughts. Likely, he was. I didn't care.

"Ready, then?" Wisdom smiled. He knew, the bastard.

I nodded and he folded us away.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

I felt better. Ashe was certainly feeling better. He'd built a fire in the fireplace and lounged in a comfortable chair in front of it, reading a book. He'd even
Pulled
a cup of coffee to him, the schmuck. I was still working on things like that.

Coming home
, Charles announced in mindspeech. I'd lost track of how long he'd been gone, but it was days in my estimation.

About time
, I returned. I got a full-blown mental laugh back. Somebody was definitely feeling better.

Keeping my seat at the kitchen island, I waited for Charles to arrive while I sipped coffee. Someday, maybe I'd learn to read him better. Maybe. I wanted that information, and time wasn't on my side. Charles wasn't alone when he appeared—Hank stood beside him. My coffee cup shattered on the floor as I stood abruptly, but Hank was already there, pulling me into a hug I might never escape. I didn't want to. I drowned in his kisses.

* * *

"Baby?" Hank's voice was soft. Gentle. A hand smoothed my hair back when I opened my eyes. "Wisdom said you were weak. Sorry."

"Worth it," I stretched beside him. I'd lost consciousness when I climaxed. No surprise.

"I sure thought so." He grinned. I reached out to trace fingers over his mouth.

"I love you," I said.

"And I'm thankful," he leaned in to kiss me. "You ought to know I love you."

"After you said it about a hundred times, I sort of got the idea," I said.

"I wasn't sure how many times it would take," he said, nuzzling my neck.

"I'm glad you brought us here," I said, patting the mattress.

"Better than the kitchen floor," he agreed before kissing my collarbone.

"That floor is cold and hard," I said as he locked onto a nipple.

Not the only thing that's hard
, he sent. Well, it was difficult to speak with your mouth full, I suppose.

* * *

Ashe's Journal

"He's giving her energy," Charles shrugged. We sat in front of the fire I'd built, considering our options. Charles had already given me as much energy as I could handle. I felt good—the best I'd felt since we'd separated.