Page 29 of Dead End

My role was less violent. I sprinted across the rooftop to access the circular power vent that would get us inside. My footsteps were quiet, but my heartbeat was deafening.

“Lorelei, look out!”

I jerked away from the vent to see a third demon. The horned creature must’ve just arrived. I reached for a dagger, but Dantalion was faster. He flicked his sword with precision; the blade somersaulted through the air and struck the horned demon in the eye. Josie handled the rest. Thank goodness for techno pop to muffle his cry of pain.

I yanked off the vent. “I’ll take that apology whenever you’re ready, Josie.”

The vampire simply stared. “That’s your big plan? The vent?”

“I noticed it one night when Kane and I were up here stargazing.”

“Well, you were still wrong.” She waved a hand at the fallen guards. “We didn’t sneak in undetected.”

“They didn’t alert anybody inside. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.”

Dantalion frowned at the round hole. “Where does this take us?”

“Directly into the attic. It’s solely for ventilation.”

“And how are we supposed to get down from the attic without being seen?” he asked.

Josie lit up. “There’s a supply duct. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I think we can manage. If we take it all the way, we’ll end up in the boiler room.”

The vampire was first to climb inside, quickly followed by Dantalion, then me. The attic was too cramped to stand in. We remained flat on our stomachs and crawled along the wooden boards, pausing briefly while Josie ripped off the next vent.

We slid down a couple feet and then shimmied across the duct. Through the slats in a subsequent vent, I glimpsed the balcony where two more demons drank from a bottle. Anger hardened my fingers as I spotted the label. They were downing Kane’s prized Japanese whisky like it was lemonadeand they were under a blazing hot sun. Kane would kill them for that alone.

I continued forward on my elbows. The lounge area below was a riot of color and sound—flashing lights, strobing shadows, and the deep thrum of music that pressed against my chest and made it hard to breathe. There was no sign of Kane. I was both relieved and disheartened.

We arrived at the next drop. I waited for Josie to slide down to the basement level. The sound of metal reverberated in the duct as Josie kicked out the vent that emptied into the boiler room, which thankfully wasn’t as hot as it would’ve been during the colder months. Dan and I slid down after her.

Josie gestured to the door. We had no idea what we’d find on the other side. Could be two demons. Could be twenty.

We had to take our chances.

I braced myself as Josie’s fingers tightened on the handle. Slowly she pulled until there was an inch gap. I relaxed slightly. No squeaks or creaks.

We slipped into the corridor and kept to the shadows until we reached the entrance to Kane’s residence.

The door was guarded, which was both good and bad. Bad for us, but good in that it indicated this was where Kane was being held. Two demons stood watch, leaning against the wall with daggers sheathed at their sides. They were engrossed in their own conversation, unaware of the intruders just steps away.

“So his marriage is in the proverbial toilet and what does he decide to do?” the demon said. “Hires two vampires to suck out his blood. When his friend asks, ‘what are you doing?,’ he says, ‘Getting rid of the poison my wife infected me with.’ His friend sighs and says, ‘Can’t you just write dreadful poetry like everybody else?’”

The second demon guffawed in response to the story, prompting an eye roll from Josie.

In a blur of motion, the vampire sped forward, knocking out the first guard with a blow to the neck. Before the second one could react, Dan was on him, clamping one hand over the demon’s mouth and snapping his arm behind his back with a sickening crack.

Determination fueled me. I slipped past them and into the familiar room where I’d shared so many happy memories with Kane. The music was muffled here, but still relentless. My gaze swept the room. The bed was made. The soft gray blanket was folded neatly over the back of the sofa. The place was in meticulous condition, as though no one had occupied the space in the past two weeks, but the guards suggested otherwise.

I was certain I heard my name, barely a whisper but audible. I ducked into the bathroom to check the tub. Nothing.

As I returned to the open-plan room, bile rose in my throat at the sight of the figure dangling above me—Kane, bruised and bloodied almost beyond recognition, but alive. He hung upside down from the ceiling rafter with his arms bound to his sides. Tears pricked my eyes. It was clear Lucifer had been using Kane as his own personal piñata.

“Kane,” I croaked.

One eye opened to peer at me; the other one appeared sealed shut by swelling and dried blood. “Took you long enough,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but full of defiance.

“Josie! Dan! Help me cut him down,” I said.

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