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Prom night, three hours after Zoe has disappeared.
I leave Kieran’s house with absolutely no destination in mind. All I know is that I need to get out and do something. I’m sure it’s Aiden who has Zoe locked up some place unique. He’s a first-class demon A-hole, and if he lays a finger on her, I’m going to end his existence.
I’ll get my revenge on the torture he handed to me, but even more so for everything he’s doing to Zoe.
Heaving my duffle bag into the trunk, I slam it shut, patting the hood as my way of apologizing to Angel, my car. I reopen the trunk to take inventory under the secret compartment. Inspiration had hit me after Zoe made me watch a few episodes of Supernatural. The two main characters drive a 1967 Chevy Impala, where the trunk’s floor opens to reveal a whole battery of weapons they need to kill demons. Hammers, spikes, spears, and shotguns line the space.
Right now, I feel a bit like them. The brothers in the show at least have each other.
I close the trunk and sit in the driver’s seat. Stomping my foot on the peddle, I peel out of the driveway. Google Maps launches on my cell. My finger presses the screen and it zooms outward. Now, I can see the Midwest region. Nothing speaks to me. I expand until the whole United States comes on the monitor. My breathing slows, and I briefly close my eyes. I shouldn’t be searching on my phone and driving when I’m in this crazed state of mind.
I slow her down and park. The clock says it’s after one in the morning. Hardly any cars are around in the small town of St. Joseph.
Taking a better look at the map, I start scrutinizing cities on the west coast: Seattle, Portland, Sacramento, and Los Angeles. I glance out my window, mulling things over in my mind. I return to the map: San Diego, Phoenix, Las Vegas, and Salt Lake City.
Las Vegas, Sin City.
That’s it. It’s the stomping grounds for the Knights. They flocked back there in the sixties when all the mafia bosses arrived. Gambling, drugs, and a whole ton of money made people do bad things. The Knights blended in so well. It’s how the city got its nickname.
I can patrol the town until someone tells me something about where Zoe is being held. Taking the car out of park, I head for Las Vegas. If I drive the rest of the night, I’ll be there in about twenty-four hours from now.
Time to get the heck out of here. At least now I have a plan. Maybe I should text Kieran where I’m going. Naw. He’s meeting with Michael and the Council. Vash? I might need him if a couple of Marqs decides to gang up on me.
Using voice on command, I ask the phone to create a text to the Alpha.
Me: U up for a road trip?
I turn the car onto I-94 and head toward the Twin Cities. Party songs blare from the speakers from the Bose stereo. My thoughts go to the passenger seat when Zoe had sat there on our first date. That seemed like forever ago. My fisted hands smash against the steering wheel. The radio dims, letting me know that there is an incoming text on my phone.
Vash: Where and when?
Me: Now. In route to your house. Going to LV
Vash: That wise?
Me: Yes, I’ll explain more in 20
Vash: Fine. Kieran?
Me: No. Angel biz
Fifteen minutes later, I wind my way down a street that leads to a dead end and stops in front of a massive wrought iron gate. To the left is a guard shack, but it’s dark. Rolling down my window, I pull up to the speaker box and say my name. The gate opens. I continue down the road along the expansive property, following a street lined by gnarly, old oak trees and hills. Off in the distance, I could make out a lake, and every so often a house appears. When the last bend comes into view, the trees part, and there, before my eyes, sits a three-story mansion. Five white pillars line the front of the house, reminding me of the southern plantations in Georgia or the Carolinas. I pull next to a booth by the front door.
I’d never been to his house before, but Zoe had been, and she told me all about it.
Glimpsing the time, I feel bad for disturbing Vash’s house so late. He could have told me no. I step up and ring the doorbell and wait. Lights flicker on and off, and I hear footsteps approach. The door swings open, and a tired-looking Vash appears.
“Sorry, man,” I say. “Were you asleep when I texted?”
“Yes, but don’t worry about it,” Vash replies. “Come on it. I’m still packing a few things.” He leads me into the foyer.
Two grand staircases curve up the sides to the second and third floor. In the center of the marbled hall stands the largest water fountain I’ve ever laid eyes on that’s inside someone’s home. My eyes take it all in.
“I know,” Vash continues. “It’s a bit over the top. But it came in handy a few years ago when tornadoes ripped through the land and decimated most of the other pack houses on the property. Most of the members moved in here. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Need to toss more items into a bag, wake my brother to tell him that he’s in charge while I’m gone, and kiss Cali bye.”
“Sure. Take your time.”
“I won’t take long.” Vash turns and starts climbing the staircase, but stops. “Oh, and why don’t we take a plane? It’ll take two hours instead of twenty-four. I know you’re anxious to get a move on.”
“I’ve loaded my car with weapons—”
“Don’t worry about security. We’ll take the company jet. I’ll call ahead and have them restock the belly with everything. Plus, whatever’s in your trunk, we’ll add when we get to the hanger.”
I watch Vash’s retreating form as it disappears on the third floor. He has his own jet. Two hours is better than twenty-four. The sooner we get to Vegas, the faster we’ll have a lead on Zoe’s whereabouts.
I don’t ask about why Vash is doing this with me. I don’t ask about his good-bye with his mate. I definitely don’t ask about Jackson’s leadership qualities. The ten-minute drive is not even broken with music.
We arrive at Flying Cloud airfield, and I see the jet already making its way onto the tarmac. No lights are on in the main building, but there are people milling around the hangers.
“Drive up to the security gate that leads onto the runway,” Vash directs. “We can unload our bags and weapons directly onto the plane.”
In front of us is a steal gate with an I.D. box. I roll down the window, ready for the code that Vash provides. The gate swings wide, and I proceed to the awaiting jet. The cargo bay has been lowered. We step out of my car. I march up the ramp, so I can inspect what’s already been loaded. Vash has managed to fill the belly with every weapon that’s legal to carry and some that are not. It’s impressive.
“Leave your keys in the car,” Vash says. “Someone will drive it to the parking lot. And don’t worry about anything being stolen. I’m one of their top clients, and they wouldn’t want to lose Bellator Industries. It’ll be here and everything in it as you left.” He grabs his bag from the back seat. “They’ll wash her, too.”
I toss my bag over my shoulder and step up the stairs into the plane. I’ve never been in a private one. The space is luxurious. Soft, tan leather high back chairs greet me on my left. A couch of matching material is on the right side, with a small conference table dividing the kitchen area. There are no overhead compartments so for once, I can stand tall and spread my arms almost across the full width. In the rear is one bathroom and where the other would be on a normal plane, is a closet. That’s where our bags are kept.
An older woman stands at the ready for orders.
“Thank you, Ellison, for working tonight,” Vash says. “I know it was a short notice for you.”
“It’s not a problem, Mr. Bellator.” She smiles. “Anything you need right away?”
“Not for me, thank you.” Vash turns to me. “Do you want a drink or food?”
“No, I’m good for now,” I say. “Thank you.”
Ellison walks to the kitchen and takes out a folder, checking items as she opens and closes doors.
The door to the plane airlocks tight, and the captain comes over the loudspeaker. “Good morning, Mr. Bellator. Everything is ready. We are set to go on your orders. Destination is Las Vegas, Nevada, sir.”
Vash stalks to a high-tech control panel and presses a button. “Let’s take off when you’re ready. Thank you, Captain Rego.”
I sit in one of the recliners as Vash takes the couch. He sprawls across it. His body fills the length as his feet dangle off the end. He lays an arm over his eyes. I haven’t known Vash very long, and notice he’s a man of few words. But when he does speak, they usually are of great insight and value. Maybe it’s because he’s been groomed to be his pack’s leader, and now at such a young age, he is. Zoe had said that when she came to his house, he was carefree and fun. Now, all I see is a dark seriousness to him. Gone is his youth. Stolen from him.
The plane taxis down the runway and lifts into the sky. Soft instrumental music is playing through the speakers. It’s peaceful and soothing.
“Don’t you want to know why we’re going to Vegas?” I explore the compartment for Ellison and find her past the bathroom and closet, sitting in a chair and reading on a device.
“Everything you say will remain confidential. Ellison won’t repeat anything she hears. She’s been our lead flight attendant for many years.” He doesn’t move from the couch. “I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready. It’s a short flight, so you can either tell me your plans now, or we can come up with something when we get there.”
“It’s the demon capital of the world.”
“I know.” Vash rolls onto his side and peers into my eyes.
“So, I figured that we could shake down a few bars and clubs and see who falls out and can tell us anything about where Zoe is being kept, who has her, and why.”
“While I think on the surface that is a good plan, what’s to encourage anyone from helping us?”
“That’s where you come in.” I swivel in the chair, breaking eye contact.
“I’m the muscle or the money?”
“Possibly both, but that’s only as a last resort. The demons who congregate on the strip are there for various reasons and don’t mess with the Ordinaries, so the Nephilim and angels leave them alone. As long as they continue to not harm the humans, we let them be. But some may have to be persuaded. I do know of a couple of Knights who may help, if the price is right.”
“Don’t worry about the money. I’ll cover it.”
“Sometimes, they seek other forms of payment.”
“I guess we’ll have to see what they want.”
“Someone, somewhere has to know something.” I recline to see how far it goes. It almost lies flat.
“Try to get some rest. However long this trip is, we’ll need our strength.” Vash flips onto his side and is out cold.
This is the perfect time to reflect on Aiden’s eye color and what it could mean, especially for me. There has to be a reason why he showed me only them. It’s not that I’ve traveled the world and know every human, demon, or angel in it, but the aqua eyes are so unique.
I know where Nephilim come from: angel and human. Could he be the part of me that comes from the angel? Even if he’s a demon, aren’t fallen angels still created from Him?
Shaking those awful thoughts, maybe I should get some sleep while we’re in the air. I’ll need my wits once we land. If too many demons decide not to give me any information freely, I need a Plan B.