Demons (Darkness #4)(30)

Stefan had to hand it to the male, his gulp wasn’t nearly as loud as some.

“I will be accompanying you, of course,” Toa said in a calm voice, despite the sheen of sweat that coated his forehead. “I will fill in for your mage.”

“I don’t need you.” Stefan commenced walking, pushing through the door and out toward Jameson, standing beside a sleek sports car. Tace followed him like a shadow, waiting for directions.

“It is not a question of need,” Toa said as he drifted along beside Stefan. “I want to analyze the spell. I need to know more about the magical properties behind this. Whoever is calling these demons, he is not doing it with the same chants and old magic the humans use. He is working at it a different way. Being that it is one of our kind, I can figure out his reasoning. With study, I can get ahead of him. I can find him and take him to the council.”

Stefan took a silent, deep breath. It was always analytics with this guy. Thinking and pondering and twittering about it. He had no idea how Dominicous, a man of action like himself, could deal with it. But Toa did have a point. Knowing the enemy was always the first step. Knowing, finding, and then killing.

“Stay out of my way,” Stefan growled as the car door was opened for him. “I’ll give you time to look around before we kill it. After that, you can have all the time you need.”

He turned back, staring at the icy blue eyes with fire. “But everything you learn will be shared. You will dissect everything with Sasha or myself. No secrets. Don’t forget within which territory you reside.”

“This is a dangerous road you are walking,” Toa replied in a low voice.

Stefan intensified his focus until Toa’s gaze hit the ground. He hated that he had to keep reminding the Regional and his mage that Stefan ran this territory. Deferring to a higher power was tolerable for short periods of time, but these two had overstayed their welcome. Alphas didn’t like to share, and Stefan liked it less than most.

They arrived at the site: a deserted parking lot at a closed-down roller rink. On the side of the building, hunched within the shadows, moved a creature about the size of an average human male, confined within invisible walls, barely hanging onto its physical shape. It stared out at Stefan’s gathering clan, huge teeth protruding from black lips and gums. Saliva dripped out of its mouth and fell to the ground in strings.

“It greatly resembles a Dulcha,” Stefan noted as Jameson stepped next to him.

“Dulcha register at about a nine or ten—the lesser powerful end of the spectrum—depending on the magic used. This is probably a seven or eight. Small animals were sacrificed in the ritual,” Jameson conveyed.

“But it was a ritual?” Toa asked, focusing his unblinking stare on the glistening eyes and grotesque face of the demon.

Jameson concurred, “From what we can gather, it has all the elements of the warehouse. The pot, the fire, the blood sacrifice, the containment circle…”

Toa stepped closer, a white haze drifting across the ground toward the demon, his magic picking up clues. “He’d called too powerful of a demon the last time. It didn’t want to stay put. The caster wasn’t ready to battle wills, so he ran. This time, in order to continue practicing, the caster scaled way back. He called a lesser demon. A lap dog. Oh yes, I see…”

An orange light blared into existence around the demon, a circular, magical cage.

“Intricate,” Toa droned, talking mostly to himself. His eyes had lost focus. His magic spread around the area in a pale white glow. “The spell is tied off. It doesn’t want for more power. Stronger in construction, this time. Fine details. Someone working on his craftsmanship.”

Toa straightened up, ignoring the horrible rasp coming out of the demon’s mouth. His gaze hit Stefan’s. “The wielder of this spell is getting close. This spell is polished; sophisticated. I imagine the chants for the various demonic power levels have been mapped out. The confinement is water-tight. The workmanship is just so. Yes, he’s not far now. It won’t be long before he calls a nasty demon. One, maybe two more tries, and he has something that will bend to his will.”

Ten warriors, armed in leather, knives and swords, tattoos glowing and eyes fierce, waited silently for the fluffy, white-haired mage to finish prattling on about his findings. Adrenaline from the battle to come raged through their blood, needing action. Needing release. The scene could be dissected after the demon was dispatched.

“Do you have what you need?” Stefan asked with iron in his voice. He didn’t need to follow the question with a command to move. Toa was already taking himself to the rear of the warring party.

“Do you plan to link?” Toa asked with a rigid back and somewhat raised chin. “Or are you planning to do this all on your own?”

Stefan jerked his head to his Watch. Understanding the silent command, they spread out in a circle surrounding the demon, swords flashing to life.

“This demon is nothing. It’s sport.” Stefan ripped his sword out of the holster, the blade blaring burnished gold with a white frost. “It’s practice for my Watch.”

Stefan could barely hear Toa sniff. “Well, I’ll just wait near the cars then. Since you claim to have this covered.”

The white mage wasn’t used to being a spare tire. Stefan smirked. It was good for him.

Stefan called the elements, filling himself with more air and fire than the other two. He let his magical feelers pick at that spell surrounding the demon, getting an idea of it. Finding the weak points. And then noticing a big, magical “pull here” tab to unravel the whole thing. Organized, logical and effective—if the person responsible turned out to be anyone besides Andris, Stefan would be shocked.