Demon Storm: Belador book 5 (36 page)

Joleen kept her weapon trained on her quarry, but ignored Coldfinger’s bravado, pinning her gaze on Devon. “Lambert’s behind a contract killing of a Connecticut witch.”

Coldfinger howled. “You trolls tradin’ stolen goods?”

Lambert said, “No, she’s lying.” He sneered at Jo. “I ain’t goin’ with ya.”

“Yes, you are,” she said without a hint of concern.

Devon sighed. “No, he’s going with me.”

Jo shifted the weapon toward Devon. “We’re having a communication breakdown. That could be dangerous.”

“You don’t want to threaten
me
, Jo,” Devon warned. “I caught them dealing Noirre. Makes this VIPER business. Lambert’s got to face a Tribunal. That’s the law.”

All the trolls swung around to look at Devon.

Coldfinger howled again and glowed bright as a warning beacon. “You idiots. He’s Belador. Heard everything you said. Stinkin’ morons.”

Jo asked Devon, “How can this be a sanctioned operation?” Her gaze shifted, scanning quickly before a smile teased her lips. “Where’s your team? VIPER doesn’t send their people in without backup. Doesn’t want them
hurt
.”

She was goading Devon over how she’d used that same weapon to kill a demon hanging on his back the last time they’d met.

He owed her and she was calling in the debt.

But he couldn’t pay up right now. “I have orders to pick him up.” Big lie. “Let’s work together this time. You cover them and I’ll call in backup.”

Her eyebrow arched sharply in a saucy smirk. “What gave you the idea we were negotiating, Dev? Lambert’s mine. You can have the other two and the orange toad.”

“You can’t prove nothin’ without Lambert,” Coldfinger yelled.

Not technically true, but if Lambert was running a Svart Troll op Devon needed him most of all.

Lambert inched a step away.

Jo swung her weapon back at him. “Let’s go.”

Hellfire. Devon could use her help, but he’d just have to contain them without her. “Sorry, Jo, but VIPER laws take precedence over bounty orders. I’m taking them all in.” He turned to Lambert and bluffed about using telepathy. “I’ve already sent word to VIPER for backup. Resisting will only make it worse when you face the Tribunal. You three, face down on the ground next to Coldfinger.”

Intelligence gleamed in Lambert’s eyes. He shrugged and turned to his two giant sidekicks. “Sorry guys, I know I said this would be a quick job. Guess there’s nothing to do but...
kill them!
” He ducked and the huge trolls roared.

One giant rushed Devon and the other one dove at Jo.

A flash of green light burst through the room. Some kind of stun grenade? That wouldn’t stop a Svart.

Devon swung his sword in a high arc. The blade sang with sentient power, but a second flash of light from Jo caused a strobe effect that threw off his timing. He slashed across the troll’s arm and dodged the snap of fangs so close to his neck that his hair stood on end. Losing an arm didn’t slow the bellowing monster, whose armhole spewed murky-colored blood that smelled like sewage.

These ornery things were hard to kill, which was why Devon couldn’t miss again. With the next swing of his Belador sword, he severed baldy’s head. It bounced away...the only sound in a sudden brittle silence.

Not good.

Devon walked over to where chunks of troll lay scattered around Jo. So the flash had been a high-bandwidth laser? He glanced at a slender barrel camelbacked onto the demon blaster, then at the ground were Coldfinger had been.
Had
being the operative word.

Glowing yellow-orange embers sizzled on the dirt floor.

“Any chance that means you got him, Jo?”

“No. That’s residue from Coldfinger’s body being held still too long. He escaped with Lambert.” She stood ten feet away with her blaster hanging from a shoulder sling and hands propped on her hips. “They’ll have made it to where the tunnel dumps into the river by now. What a krikin’ mess you made of this.”

“Me? You’re the one who wouldn’t keep this simple.” He turned on her and moved forward with each word.

“Stop right there.”

Not a chance. Nothing intimidated this woman.

He couldn’t decide between wringing her stubborn neck and kissing her. Like that adrenaline-pumped kiss they’d shared the last time they’d survived a bloody battle. Was she thinking about that kiss? “With a little cooperation, we’d have hauled in all four and gotten you a nice fee for helping.” 

“I don’t work for chump change...or VIPER.” She raised her weapon and shoved it into his chest. “And if you get in my way again, there won’t be enough of you left to feed a gnat.”

That’d be a “no” on her thinking fondly of their last kiss.

This woman had unusual hunting skills. And based on what he’d seen, a little majik. She could be a witch. When you moved in a world where a broad spectrum of majik was the norm, identities were tough to nail down without information.

Jo might find Lambert faster than Devon could pull together a team. He had to cut a deal for any hope of stopping Svart trolls from accessing that Noirre spell. “I get that Lambert was your bounty, but—”

#

“N
ot
was
. Is my bounty,” Joleen said, setting Devon straight. Which goddess of fate had the twisted sense of humor to stick Devon Fortier in her path again? Blonde strands fell loose from where he wore his shoulder-length hair tied back. Those dark hazel eyes were flecked with gold and seemed to maintain a perpetual anytime-is-playtime look.

A look that could make a woman do asinine things.

And make tactical errors. Like kissing Devon after their last unplanned meeting. She should shoot the cocky Belador just for interfering again.

“We can work out the money on this, Jo.”

“It’s not about the money or I’d charge you double and be done with this. I have quotas. I’m behind and need to hand in Lambert by tomorrow afternoon or Dakkar will cut me loose.” That could not happen. Dakkar was the sole person who could keep her identity secret. And he would. For a price. She couldn’t lose this gig or allow Devon to ruin it for her.

“What’s the big deal on this troll, Jo?”

“He’s not just a troll. Lambert is the bastard son of a Svart Troll and a black witch. He’s slippery. I’ve been tracking him for days.” She glanced past him. “Where’s your team?”

He gave a half-assed look over his shoulder. “Should be here soon.”

Liar. “You didn’t call anyone.” She let her weapon swing down and under her coat. “I got a bounty to pick up.”

Sliding his sword into the sheath on his back, Devon said, “Then we better get rolling.”

“Don’t make me tie you up, Dev.”

His grin ignited with lust. “We don’t have time for that, but I like the way you’re thinking.”

One round from her demon blaster and he’d be little Devon pieces. Tempting. “I’m not joking.”

His sigh accused her of being as much fun as rain at a picnic. Tough. She
had
been fun at one time in her life, but someone had stolen that life.

Devon scratched his whisker-darkened jaw—as unshaven as the last time she’d seen him. Did he never shave? He sighed and his voice shifted from teasing to serious. “Here’s the thing. Based on what you said about Lambert, he’ll use that Noirre spell if we don’t stop him.”

“Don’t see how theft is my problem.” She beat down her surge of conscience. Nobody would waste that level of a black majik spell for simple robbery.

“Theft? That’s a Noirre Fixit spell. Most fixation spells just freeze a human for a minute, but Noirre could be much worse.”

Could be?
He didn’t know for sure what that spell was capable of? Damn him. She couldn’t let this Belador go off thinking that. “If it’s Noirre, it’s not
just
a fixation spell that freezes someone long enough to rob them.”

Devon crossed his arms, waiting.

She cursed herself. Why couldn’t she be like Dakkar’s other bounty hunters who put their own needs first? “Using Noirre Fixit will freeze everyone within twenty feet of a single person hit by the spell. The freeze will last approximately two minutes, but when it dissipates, the memories of every person affected or watching the spellbound area will be wiped clean. They’ll continue living as if nothing had happened, but without their memories up to that point.”

Devon’s words came out slow and tight. “I can’t share all my intel, but it’s looking like Lambert has a team here for a specific hit. Based on what I know about his ability and now about now this spell can affect large masses, I’m betting his target involves the St. Patrick’s Day Parade tomorrow.”

“Trolls wouldn’t risk exposure in a crowd that big,” she argued. “VIPER would send death squads after them.”

“But as you just pointed out, this spell comes with a memory wipe. If Lambert pulls this off, VIPER will have nothing to use as evidence.”

She considered that, not liking how logical it sounded, but she couldn’t risk her entire future on a maybe. “Why this parade?”

Scratching his head, Devon stared off, thinking. “My informant thought the trolls were here to glamour their way through the crowd to steal gold, but I ran all possible scenarios and cross referenced with any notable celebrities attending this event. I found out an Ansgar descendant is studying art here. She’s in the parade. Six members of her family are joining her tomorrow, including the matriarch who goes nowhere without wearing her solid gold Celtic choker—”

“—that holds the power to their entire Fae family.” Joleen got it.

“Right. I blew off the possibility of a troll making that, because the Ansgars always travel with security. But now that Svart Trolls are involved, I’m thinking they’re after the choker and/or the family members for someone else, because they don’t put their people at risk unless they feel confident they can succeed and the price is right. I’d like to know who’s behind this. My bet is an enemy of the Ansgars, but that doesn’t narrow the field. If that family
is
Lambert’s target and he pulls this off while wiping the minds of any witnesses, war will erupt between powerful adversaries once the finger pointing starts. The human world won’t be a safe place for anyone.”

Dakkar would be furious if Joleen had any perceived part in that happening, since shielding nonhuman existence from humans was part of Dakkar’s agreement with VIPER.

Pushing hair off her face, she hissed out a steam of air. How had one simple bounty gotten this convoluted? “How many people show up for this parade?”

“Close to half a million.” Devon hit her with a hard look. “And with the memory wipe, nothing would stop those trolls from snacking on a child, who would then end up on a milk carton.”

Playing hero was Devon’s job, not hers, but she’d never allowed innocent people to be hurt when she could prevent it. That would mean zip to Dakkar if she didn’t bring back her bounty. “Here’s my deal. I help you get the spell and you give me Lambert.”

Hesitation played through Devon’s face. “I’ll do what I can, Jo, but I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I’ll give you Lambert if I can and
if
he doesn’t die in the process.”

A dead Lambert was of no use to her. She either gambled on throwing in with Devon or locked him in a rum cask while she hunted Lambert alone. But if she lost Lambert, she’d have to live with the guilt for any devastation he caused
and
face Dakkar empty handed. “I’m in, but no promises from me either on what happens once we find Lambert.”

She expected Devon to agree or argue, but he just lifted the hood of his fleece jacket over his head, covering the sword handle, and led the way out.

After backtracking with him to the exit point beneath the Pirate’s House restaurant, they emerged on Broad Street. A balmy March sun had daffodils blooming and tourists crowding cobblestone streets along the historic district, clueless about nonhumans moving among them. She fell into step with Devon who said nothing over the next half hour as he led the way to Coldfinger’s pawnshop on the outskirts of Savannah. Once they’d left the dense pedestrian traffic in the city behind, he’d picked up the pace.

Joleen stayed with him step for step. She stayed in top running condition, because exiting quickly often made the difference in living to fight another day or not. The area had been abused by age. Spider webs covered steel-barred windows on shabby buildings and the homeless loitered on the sidewalks.

She mused, “Would have expected Coldfinger to be in a finer part of town.”

“Not with a clientele that shies away from crowds and humans to do business.”

Devon lifted his hand and signaled for silence as he slowed to enter a wooden shack-of-a building through a doorless opening.

She followed him in, allowing her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. Sunlight filtered through holes in the walls and ceiling, offering a dingy view of musty piles of clothes and a smelly mattress.

Did Devon know where he was going?

He paused six feet from a door at the back of the room, then crept forward.

She drew her weapon, though she’d prefer to use the wand she kept hidden along with her mage identity.

Devon eased over to stand at one side of the door where light sifted out from the bottom. He tested the knob. Locked. Before she could suggest finding another entrance, Devon moved around in front of the door, put his boot up and kicked.

Rotten wood shattered.

Joleen shook her head, muttering, “What is it about boys and kicking in doors?”

The smell hit her first, warning that the view wouldn’t be much better.

#

D
evon stepped through the remnants of the door and took in the hideous scene against one wall of the pawnshop. Coldfinger was dead, frozen with his remaining arm up in defense and his face contorted with a scream of fear. Devon wrinkled his nose at the scorched sherbet ice cream stench.

Jo pointed at a pile of half-chewed orange glob that might be Coldfinger’s upchucked arm, and smirked. “Looks like Lambert tested the spell on Coldfinger. Trolls have a weak stomach for leprechaun, eh?”

Devon let the rare humor in her voice pass without comment. He had to contact Tzader. As the Belador Maistir over North America, Tzader directed a large portion of VIPER’s force.