soon moving at a good clip following the edge of Highway 101. When the sound of gunfire buffeted their ears, Xiao Fei slowed down, and Patrick watched her chew her bottom lip in consternation.
"Isn't there a subway near here?" he asked. This might be her city, but he hadn't come unprepared. He'd memorized as much of an L.A. map as he could manage, including most subway access points.
She shook her head. "That's wolf territory."
He frowned. "So? Wolves aren't demons."
She glared at him. "They're werewolves," she repeated more firmly. From the tone of her voice, she obviously considered all nonhumans in the same category.
"This way," she said, abruptly tugging on his arm. "A safe place in Chinatown." Slipping between a warehouse and the freeway, she skirted another fence… only to land them smack-dab on the edge of a firefight.
She dropped to the ground. He landed beside her. A hasty glance told him she wasn't hurt, so he occupied himself with peering around the dubious shelter of a large personal storage shed. That was when he saw them.
Demons.
From a note card stuffed in the journal of Patrick Lewis.
COME SEE THE GREATEST DRUID OF OUR TIME
JASON, LORD OF BLACK MAGIC, descended from
GENERATIONS OF DRUIDS
HIS SKILLS WILL AMAZE AND DELIGHT YOU
NECROMANCY, AURA CLEANSING, HYPNOTISM, HEALING, AND MOST
ESPECIALLY FUTURE CASTINGS
YES, HE CAN CREATE THE FUTURE YOU WANT!
COME SEE IT! BELIEVE IT!
Call for appointment. Special group rates. Available for parties.
Chapter Seven
If it hadn't been for the adrenaline rush from the gunfire, Patrick would likely have felt them long before now. He saw the demons clearly huddled beneath an overpass. Even if there hadn't been loads of streetlights, the police had spots trained on the small band of five.
A wash of hate temporarily suffocated him. They looked and felt just like the ones who had killed his parents: muscular men with naked torsos and strange breeches over equally strange shoes. They bristled with a variety of knives, but what occupied Patrick's thoughts most was what they were attaching to the freeway supports. He imagined that the gray substance wasn't benign.
Below his stomach where he lay, the ground rumbled as the subway rolled past. They were at a junction then. Freeway above, subway below. An attack here would seriously compromise transportation in and out of the city.
Which obviously was the point. Just as clearly, the demons had been caught. Patrick heard a police officer—or perhaps it was a B-Ops-officer—bellowing through a megaphone: "You're surrounded. There's no hope. We won't hurt you if you…" The voice went on, but Patrick tuned it out, especially as the demons hauled out guns and began firing.
Or at least they tried. Obviously, the demons weren't all that skilled with firearms. He'd seen children with better aim. Of course, in a situation like this, accuracy didn't really matter. No human—even an armored one—was going to storm a position with bullets flying.
Ping
. Patrick hunched his shoulders and slid backward an inch. Xiao Fei did too, her face pale. To reassure her, he squeezed her arm.
"Good news for us. Demons are really bad shots," he pointed out.
"Bad news for us. Explosives don't require much accuracy."
So, she'd seen it too. All the demons were doing was buying time to carry out their plan. Which apparently was almost set, as all but one of the demons began bellowing back at the officers. Patrick couldn't understand their language, but then again, he didn't need to. The words were a war cry, the final whoop before the attack.
"They're about to detonate!" he shouted, lifting Xiao Fei and hauling her back. If that gray stuff they were using really was C5, it was going to be one hell of a boom.
Apparently, the officers saw the danger too. They attacked. A sudden barrage of gunfire permanently silenced two of the demons who had stepped out from cover. The other three were still protected by the
"Isn't there a subway near here?" he asked. This might be her city, but he hadn't come unprepared. He'd memorized as much of an L.A. map as he could manage, including most subway access points.
She shook her head. "That's wolf territory."
He frowned. "So? Wolves aren't demons."
She glared at him. "They're werewolves," she repeated more firmly. From the tone of her voice, she obviously considered all nonhumans in the same category.
"This way," she said, abruptly tugging on his arm. "A safe place in Chinatown." Slipping between a warehouse and the freeway, she skirted another fence… only to land them smack-dab on the edge of a firefight.
She dropped to the ground. He landed beside her. A hasty glance told him she wasn't hurt, so he occupied himself with peering around the dubious shelter of a large personal storage shed. That was when he saw them.
Demons.
From a note card stuffed in the journal of Patrick Lewis.
COME SEE THE GREATEST DRUID OF OUR TIME
JASON, LORD OF BLACK MAGIC, descended from
GENERATIONS OF DRUIDS
HIS SKILLS WILL AMAZE AND DELIGHT YOU
NECROMANCY, AURA CLEANSING, HYPNOTISM, HEALING, AND MOST
ESPECIALLY FUTURE CASTINGS
YES, HE CAN CREATE THE FUTURE YOU WANT!
COME SEE IT! BELIEVE IT!
Call for appointment. Special group rates. Available for parties.
Chapter Seven
If it hadn't been for the adrenaline rush from the gunfire, Patrick would likely have felt them long before now. He saw the demons clearly huddled beneath an overpass. Even if there hadn't been loads of streetlights, the police had spots trained on the small band of five.
A wash of hate temporarily suffocated him. They looked and felt just like the ones who had killed his parents: muscular men with naked torsos and strange breeches over equally strange shoes. They bristled with a variety of knives, but what occupied Patrick's thoughts most was what they were attaching to the freeway supports. He imagined that the gray substance wasn't benign.
Below his stomach where he lay, the ground rumbled as the subway rolled past. They were at a junction then. Freeway above, subway below. An attack here would seriously compromise transportation in and out of the city.
Which obviously was the point. Just as clearly, the demons had been caught. Patrick heard a police officer—or perhaps it was a B-Ops-officer—bellowing through a megaphone: "You're surrounded. There's no hope. We won't hurt you if you…" The voice went on, but Patrick tuned it out, especially as the demons hauled out guns and began firing.
Or at least they tried. Obviously, the demons weren't all that skilled with firearms. He'd seen children with better aim. Of course, in a situation like this, accuracy didn't really matter. No human—even an armored one—was going to storm a position with bullets flying.
Ping
. Patrick hunched his shoulders and slid backward an inch. Xiao Fei did too, her face pale. To reassure her, he squeezed her arm.
"Good news for us. Demons are really bad shots," he pointed out.
"Bad news for us. Explosives don't require much accuracy."
So, she'd seen it too. All the demons were doing was buying time to carry out their plan. Which apparently was almost set, as all but one of the demons began bellowing back at the officers. Patrick couldn't understand their language, but then again, he didn't need to. The words were a war cry, the final whoop before the attack.
"They're about to detonate!" he shouted, lifting Xiao Fei and hauling her back. If that gray stuff they were using really was C5, it was going to be one hell of a boom.
Apparently, the officers saw the danger too. They attacked. A sudden barrage of gunfire permanently silenced two of the demons who had stepped out from cover. The other three were still protected by the
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