Night Vision (34 page)

The room was large enough to house our entire party, and we glanced around, keeping an eye on both the door to the passageway and the door leading to what was undoubtedly the hidden lair housing Geoffrey and Leo’s operation.

What had been down here before? After all, the pair had only recently been on the run. Or did someone else control this lair, only allowing the two of them to make use of it? With these questions racing through my mind, I joined the others in poking around.

A logbook sat on the table, listing alerts. It looked like the last one had been three days ago, and all that was noted was
Enemy dispatched. Korbant.
Whether Korbant was the name of the creature they’d killed or the person logging the incident was impossible to tell. The rest of the entries for December were just initialed with the words
No threat
.

The room was filled with display cases, which in turn were filled with weapons. Big-assed guns that had been modified to blow away something with the hide of an elephant. A few flamethrowers. And a few other weapons that were hard to identify. I didn’t want to muck with them just in case one backfired.

“What lies through that door?” I started to walk over to the inner door, but Check was in front of me in a flash. He gave me a look that stopped me cold. I backed away, letting him check it out. But at least there was something I could do.

Ulean, can you peek behind that door?

A moment, then another.

Cicely, I can only sense a maze of twisting passages, but I can go no farther. There are blocks against my kind. I can see just beyond the door, but then a magical barrier prevents me from moving forward. No doubt the vampires set it up—it has the feel of new magic. And Geoffrey knows
you have me with you, so I imagine it’s his doing. I have no idea how you’re going to get through there before the vampires rise.

I looked over at Peyton. “What time is it? Do you know?”

She pulled out her phone, checking the time. “No cell service down here, but it’s past three thirty now. We don’t have a long time till the vamps wake up, do we?”

“Fuck, no. We have less than an hour. Come on; no matter what, we have to get through there.” I motioned to Check. “You want to go first, fine, but we have to go. Ysandra, any chance you and Luna can see if there are any magical traps on this door?”

Ysandra and Luna pushed to the front. After a moment, they both shook their heads. Ysandra said, “I don’t think so, but there’s so much magic beyond this door I can’t tell for certain.”

“We should close the outer door,” Grieve said. “And lock it again. If another one of those…tredobytes comes wandering in, we don’t need to be dealing with it as well.”

Two of the guards who were standing sentinel by the door moved to close and bar it. They turned back. “We’re ready when you are, Your Highness.”

“Then let’s go.” I braced myself, praying that whatever might be on the other side of that door wouldn’t turn us into toast.

Check moved into position in front of me, along with Teral, and then motioned to the nearest guard, who yanked open the door. For one moment we were facing clear hallway, empty, but the next, a rolling mist poured out from nowhere, and in it were a host of forms. Shadows, they weren’t physical and yet not illusion. As they swarmed us, something grappled my throat.

Choking, I reached out, trying to get ahold on the shade, but my hands plunged through the filmy mass. Gasping, I struggled, but my fingers kept slipping through the shadow.

Ysandra let out a long cry out in some ancient tongue, and a blast rocked us, knocking us all to our feet as a forked chain of lightning filled the area, leaping from one shadowy
creature to the next. They lit up like luminescent fog, then quickly burst into ethereal flames and vanished.

As I sat up, rubbing my throat, Grieve hurried to my side. “Are you all right, my love?” He lifted me up, and I nodded, still sputtering a little from the chokehold.

“Is everyone okay? Luna—Peyton?” I turned to check on them, but the guards were already helping them up. Everybody seemed to be fine, if a little shaken. “We have to get moving; that set us back a few minutes. What the fuck were those things?”

“Some sort of magical trap,” Ysandra said. “They weren’t real spirits, but magical constructs, and once I realized that, I knew I could shatter them.” She dusted her hands on the legs of her catsuit. “Whatever created them is dangerous, though. That’s an advanced spell, and I have my fears about what may be on the other end of it. There must have been a way to deactivate it in the outer room, but without knowing what to expect, it would be hard to find the trigger.”

And with that lovely thought, we entered the hallway. I only hoped that less than forty-five minutes would be enough time to find Geoffrey and Leo before they found us.

Forty-five minutes isn’t a long time, and it feels even less when you’re facing a maze. As we entered the hallway, I stopped short. Instead of running just left and right, or even straight ahead, there were numerous passages opening along the horizontal wall, each leading into the darkness.

There weren’t any signs, and the only light was diffused, from overhead recessed lamps. The shadows were deep and my stomach lurched again. How the hell were we going to find our way through to where Geoffrey and Leo were sleeping in the time we had left?

“What do you wish us to do, Your Majesty?” Check stood at attention, waiting along with the other guards.

I looked hopelessly over at Grieve, not knowing where to start. My love lowered his gaze, looking uncertain.

After a moment, Ysandra spoke up. “Cicely, I have a suggestion. We don’t want to split up, obviously—that would be dangerous. But I think…if Peyton turns into her werepuma self and tries to sniff out Rhiannon…”

“That would work!” Peyton began shedding her clothes,
totally unabashed. “Do we have anything of hers with us I can use for a reference point?”

I started to shake my head, but Chatter spoke up.

“I do.” He slowly pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. “She gave me this to hold for her…she was crying over the fact that Leo and Geoffrey were out there. I took it to hold for her…and never had the chance to give it back.”

The look on his face said everything that needed to be said. Ysandra took the lace cloth and waited for Peyton to stand back, then slowly begin to shimmer into her Were form. I’d seen her change before—when we rescued her from Myst—and it still mesmerized me. As her limbs lengthened and her skin took on fur, the cougar that emerged from the shifting bands of light was sleek, muscled, and glorious. She let out a huff and padded over to Ysandra.

Ysandra held out the handkerchief. Peyton took a long whiff of it, grumbled a bit, and then turned and began investigating the openings to each passageway. After a moment, she paused by one of the middle ones and looked back at us, then headed down the corridor. We followed, Check, Grieve, and Chatter at the front, along with four of the guards, and the rest at the back.

The hallway was brick—the entire building seemed to be brick—and it ran along smooth, with no sign of any openings until we’d gone a good seventy-five feet; then there were two doors at the end, one to either side, and a door in front. Peyton sniffed at the left door, then the right, then stopped in front of the center one, waiting.

Ysandra incanted a spell. After a moment, she shook her head. “I don’t think there are any traps, but I can’t be sure.” She kept her voice low.

Check motioned to one of his men, who cautiously turned the handle.
Locked
, he mouthed.

I motioned for him to move. This was one area where my years on the streets would come in handy. Examining the lock, I realized it was older—probably from when the
theater first opened. A warded one, which meant it would be easier to pick than some of the more modern types.

“Ysandra, give me one of your hairpins.”

She pulled one out of the intricate braid and handed the stiff metal pin to me. I bent the end into a crook, then inserted it in the keyhole. Jiggling it counterclockwise, I eased it around, avoiding the ward, until I felt it catch, and then I eased it back as the latch slowly slid open. With a
click
, the door was ready. And so were we.

I stepped back, letting Check go first with a couple of his men. I really didn’t like hanging back, as much as going ahead scared the crap out of me, but there wasn’t much use fretting about it, because I knew Check and Grieve were right. I was Queen now, and I owed it to the Eldburry Burrow and the people of my court to stay as safe as I could.

They pushed through, with Peyton at the lead. She snuffled and sniffed, her nose against the floor as she searched for the scent. The sleekness of her haunches mesmerized me; she was beautiful, muscled and taut. Her eyes, the rich brown they were when she was in her two-legged form, were haunted. She might be young, as far as half-Weres go, but she had seen a lot of life, and I had the feeling there was more in Peyton’s background than she had told anybody.

We moved in behind the guards as they began their trek down the hallway, following Peyton. This hall sloped up at a slight angle, like an aisle between theater rows, and the runner that lined the center of the floor was old and faded. I paused, kneeling down by a brownish spot. Though it was old, I knew immediately it was blood. Dried blood, long past its time. There had been violence here at one point, though of what nature we couldn’t know.

We were more cautious now, moving as silently as we could, because there were doors along the side—widely spaced and not clustered together. The chance that there could be someone on the other side was too great to risk making noise.

We continued up, following the curving hallway. It reminded me of the theaters where a central cinema or
stage was flanked on both sides by hallways, leading the patrons to the various sections of the gallery.

By my estimation, we were too far belowground still for the Abby Theater’s main galleria. As far as I knew, there had never been any rumor of an underground performance area. And by the looks of the carpet runner and the flaking paint on the walls, this section had to be as old as the theater itself. Grieve and Chatter wouldn’t know anything about it, but maybe Luna might.

“Luna, do you remember if the Abby Theater had an underground stage? Because there’s no way we’re near street level, yet look at the way the hall curves around the inner wall.”

She followed my gesture. “I see what you mean. But no, I don’t ever remember there being mention of an underground level. In fact, I don’t…no, there was never any mention of it. I used to sing onstage here when I was with the Youth Symphony. All the changing rooms, the prop rooms—they’re all at street level. And I don’t remember any staircases going down, either.”

I wanted to stop, to take a look behind some of the doors, but we didn’t have time, and with Peyton hot on the trail, we couldn’t afford to break pace. I steadied my nerves and tried to quiet my curiosity.

“Do you know what time it is?”

Luna pulled out her phone and checked. “Five minutes till four. We have twenty-five minutes. Cicely, we may be in trouble.”

If we didn’t find Geoffrey and Leo and stake them soon, we
were
going to be in trouble. Even if we only found Rhia and could get her out of here before they woke, that would be fine. But the feeling in the pit of my gut warned me we might not be so lucky.

As we rounded yet another bend in the ever-ascending hallway, we came to a door to the left side. Peyton stopped, suddenly, stiffening as she stared at it, her head bobbing uncertainly at first, and then she padded over to it, sniffed again, gave a huff, and began to transform back into her
normal self. The beautiful, sleek animal vanished as the regal native woman returned.

She motioned to me and we stepped off to the side. I handed her clothing to her as she began to dress.

“She’s in there. I can smell her there. There are others with her, yummanii by their scents. I have no clue if any vamps are there.” She shimmied into her jeans and zipped them, then fastened her bra and pulled on her shirt. “We have to hurry—it’s getting late, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s later than you think.” I motioned to the door. “Check, we don’t have time to mess around anymore. Head on in.”

Check burst open the door and we poured in, en masse, in hopes of overwhelming whoever was on the other side.

The room was wide and long, and now I realized where the dungeon was that Rhia had been filmed in. The redbrick wall with the net covering it was to our right, and the various play toys—the spanking bench, stocks, and bondage table—were meticulously placed around the room. The walls were redbrick, and long curtains hung in panels—drapes of red and black velvet and satin. The ceiling was a good fifteen feet high, and the acrid odor of incense filled the air. I could have sworn there was a drug in it. The scent was intoxicating and heady, but I managed to keep a handle on my senses.

There were five men in the room, but they looked to be in a stupor, and at first I thought this was going to be easy. We could stun them, grab Rhia, and run. If we could find her. As I looked around, I first thought Peyton must have been mistaken, because she was nowhere in sight. But then I heard a noise and glanced up to see a cage hanging about eight feet off the ground, and in that cage, Rhiannon was hunched over, sobbing.