Redemption Song (Daniel Faust #2)(84)

Raw screams ripped through the air. I saw a cambion go down under a mannequin’s weight, the kid gurgling his last breath from a punctured lung as it stabbed him again and again. Another mannequin ate a bullet and collapsed with nothing but splintered wood above the neck. I trench-crawled under the table, following its length toward what I hoped was the kitchen door. As soon as I came out of cover, I crouched and broke into a run, staying as low as I could.

The rest I did from the memory of Pixie’s stolen blueprints. Through the swinging door, hard left, and down a portrait-lined corridor in the dark, then another left. The kitchens were abandoned, lit by moonlight, and the remnants of the next course only half complete. Good. Everybody had bailed on cue.

The door on the far end of the room slammed open, and Meadow Brand barreled in with a gun.

A flickering stream of cards leaped from my pocket and fluttered into my hand as she pulled the trigger. One of my cards took the bullet for me, bursting with light as it tumbled to the floor with a spent .45 slug buried in its heart. I flicked out my fingers and another pair of cards went flying at her. She ducked behind a kitchen island, firing off a wild shot that slammed into the stove.

I dodged left as she jumped up again and opened fire. I tossed card after card into the air, flipping them up like dancing shields. I made it to a small table, kicked it over, and dropped to one knee behind it.

“Much as I’d love to finish this right now,” I said, “you’d better think about your boss.”

“What about her?” Meadow called back, prowling around the edge of the room and looking to flank me.

“You’re sharing the house with a pissed-off demon who’ll probably kill you both.”

“She’s heading for the panic room. She’ll be fine until the cops get here.”

I peeked over the edge of the table. Meadow fired off another round, and a chunk of wood exploded into sawdust.

“Exactly! So if she gets there before you, do you really think she’s going to risk opening the door to let you in? Or is she going to leave you to take your chances with Sullivan and his boys while she stays safe and sound?”

There was no answer for a moment. Then I heard Meadow hiss “Fuck!” and the sound of pounding footsteps as she ran for the panic room.

“No honor among thieves these days,” I muttered and ran out the service door.

I didn’t stop until the far end of Lauren’s driveway, on the edge of a road that snaked into desert darkness in both directions. Headlights strobed three times in the distance, right on cue. I walked toward them.

A white Audi Quattro rolled up and stopped at the side of the road. The tinted window rolled down, and Caitlin looked out at me expectantly.

I stuck out my thumb. “Gimme a lift, lady?”

“Nobody rides for free,” she said with a sly smile. “Did he fall for it?”

“Hook, line, and sinker.”

“Get in,” she said. “Now it’s time for the fun part.”





Forty-One

I dialed my old number. Sullivan picked up on the first ring.

“I’ve got your book,” I said casually. “Just fell into my hand at the banquet, can’t imagine how.”

“So you do. Clever little thief.”

“Out of curiosity, don’t suppose you managed to kill Lauren and Meadow?”

“No such fortune. They hid in their little room of steel. We took our fallen soldiers and left. I’ll be paying them both a visit after I get my book back. What’s your price?”

“I want Alvarez. Get yourself another translator, but that poor guy’s been through enough.”

“The priest,” Sullivan said, “has not been harmed. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Even so. I want him. Also, I want my f*cking phone back.”

“Trite. But very well. You’ll meet me at—”

“No,” I said. “You meet me. Get a pen and paper. I’ve got directions for you.”

? ? ?

Emma hadn’t been lazy. From a distance, the Silk Ranch was a graveyard for construction equipment. Cranes slept in the dark, their steel heads bowed, while a dump truck the size of a small building kept watch over a wasteland of bundled steel girders and bags of concrete mix. Only the lights inside the front gate burned against the night, the rest of the compound silent and still. Caitlin and I had been driving for hours, and dawn wasn’t far away.

We rolled in and parked by a cluster of empty cars. As we walked toward the main building, hand in hand, Emma and Ben came out to meet us. Ben’s eyes went wide.

“But I thought you two broke up—” he started to say, and I held up my hand.

“All will be explained. Here, hang onto this.”

I tossed him Alvarez’s book, and he clutched it tight.

“Spotters up the road just called in,” Emma said. “They’re about three minutes out, just like you expected.”

“Showtime,” I said. The four of us stood and watched as lights appeared in the distance. They slowly rumbled closer, winding through the shadows. Four SUVs, black on black. The last of the Redemption Choir.

The tails of Caitlin’s white leather trench coat rippled in a cold desert breeze. She only wore that coat when she was going to war.

The SUVs snaked through the gates and fanned out, splashing us in their headlights as they rumbled to a stop. I didn’t blink. Sullivan got out of the middle vehicle and walked toward us. His mahogany stick rapped against the hard-packed dirt with every step. He stopped about ten feet away.