Dallas scowled. “You said exterminate. Damn, Shay, get a new phone.”
The two SEALs studied the cringing children. “They okay?” Dallas asked.
“Can you take them someplace where they’ll be safe until we can locate their parents?” Kelly asked.
J.T. considered. “My sister’s got room. Ever since she became an empty nester, she complains it’s too quiet.”
He looked down at their new charges. “You look like a fierce bunch of tangos. Guess I’ll have to surrender.”
“Navy SEALs never surrender,” a boy cried out.
“Never. Except to aliens with death ray guns.” Dallas winked at Kelly and pointed a finger at J.T., who dramatically clasped his chest.
“Not...the death ray gun! Kids, help me! Quick, let’s head for the starship.” JT staggered back.
“Parked conveniently out front,” Dallas added.
The children gathered around, fear turning to fascination. Leaving the SEALs to take charge, Sam and Kelly hurried downstairs.
At the basement door, Kelly shivered. She’d always hated coming down here to do laundry. Despite the bright lights Sam insisted his father install, shadows still darkened the corners.
Sam opened the door and flipped the light switch. Nothing.
He fished the penlight out of his cargo pants and then palmed his pistol. “Watch your step.”
The wood stairs creaked with age as they descended into darkness. Anything could lurk down here. But no sound except for an ominous, steady drip met them.
When they reached the landing, Sam flashed the light around the cavernous space. In a corner, a shadow moved. Kelly’s heart raced.
“Over there,” she whispered.
Sam flicked the penlight as she pointed. The shadow darted away. The stench of sulfur filled the air, mixed with a sharp smell of wine turning to vinegar. “Who’s there? Are you injured?” he called out.
No answer. He handed her the flashlight. “I’m fixing the lights.”
Hand shaking badly, she swept the beam into the corner. Not a demon. A girl, tears streaking her pale face, huddled in the corner. Inky-black hair spilled over her naked, trembling body. Shaking uncontrollably, she rocked back and forth.
Though she looked no older than eighteen, bleakness shadowed her face, as if she had lived many, many more years. The girl buried her face into her arms.
“What’s your name?” Kelly asked gently.
“Keira.”
“Are you hurt?”
The pencil-thin light showed her head shake. “You’re safe now, Keira. We’re here to help.”
“Finally. Got it.”
Shay snapped a switch and light blazed in the room. He uttered a low curse.
Kelly turned around.
Oh, gods, oh, gods, oh, gods. Bile rose in her throat. Wearing only the shredded remains of dark trousers, Curt lay prone on a raised wooden platform, arms and legs stretched tight. Manacles encircled his bruised, bleeding wrists, and his ankles were attached to thick steel chains secured to each corner.
Blood seeped from deep gouges on his muscled torso, chest and arms, trickling off the platform to form viscous pools. So much blood she barely could see skin. Only his taut, handsome face remained unmarked.
“Son of a bitch.” Sam leaned over his commander, checking his pulse. “Still alive.”
He dumped his backpack and tore into a small first-aid kit. Sam ripped open a package of fresh gauze. “Put pressure on the wounds bleeding the most. He’s losing too much blood and needs an evac. Have to go upstairs, signal’s too low.”
Cell in hand, he darted up the stairs. Kelly stared helplessly at the commander. So much blood, it was hard to tell which injuries were worst. She pressed gauze against a long furrow on his chest.
It resembled a claw mark.
Sam returned, grabbing pieces of gauze. “They’re at least twenty minutes out. Locals keep a chopper stationed nearby at the new fire station.”
Somehow she knew. “The new fire station you funded, along with the trauma copter.”
A rough nod from Sam.
Lieutenant Commander Curtis stirred, blinking his eyes. Jaw tensing, Sam leaned over his CO. “Curt, it’s Shay. Kel’s with me. Hang on, buddy. Trauma copter’s coming.”
Curt moaned.
At the painful sound, the girl cried out. Kelly turned. Overhead light reflected an eerie glow in her green eyes as Keira stared at Curt like a wounded animal.
When he raised his head, she shrieked and pushed back against the wall. “He’s awake, oh, no. Don’t,” she whimpered. “Don’t make me hurt him again. Please. Not again, not again.”
“Kelly!” Sam’s voice was sharp. “Never mind her. Get these chains off him. I’ve got to pack his wounds.”
Using her powers, Kelly broke the chains. They fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
Face squeezed tight, the commander slowly moved, hissing through clenched teeth. “Easy now,” Shay soothed. “Muscles are stretched tight. Who the hell did this?”
“Centurion demons,” the girl whispered from the corner. “Condemned to wander the earth for deserting their legion, they search for a brave warrior for me to torture and so they can claim his strength to free themselves.”
Curt seized Kelly’s wrist with surprising strength. “Go,” he whispered through cracked lips. “Take the girl...find the children, get out...before they return.”
“They won’t.” Kelly gently squeezed his hand. “Shay reclaimed the house with a protective spell. Nothing evil can penetrate.”
Agony flickered in Curt’s gaze. “The children...Demons told me when I died, they’d start on them. Couldn’t...let that happen.”
So he’d held out, enduring the pain, refusing to die. A lump clogged Kelly’s throat as she squeezed his hand again. “Your courage saved them. They’re unharmed. J.T. and Dallas are bringing them to a safe place.”
“Base not secure...”
“J.T’s sister’s house, until their parents can be found.” Sam applied pressure to a nasty gash directly over Curt’s heart. “Don’t talk. Save your strength.”
“Sons of bitches got the jump.” Curt’s eyes opened, anger blazing there, fueling his strength. “Rogers texted. Missing kids were here. Sending private jet to base. Walked out to meet the pilot, next thing I remember, I was in the library with ten bastards. Smelled like a Roman orgy. Showed me the children, said if I didn’t cooperate, they’d suffer. Then they dragged me down here, in chains... Ahhh!”
The commander screamed as Sam pressed against his torso, trying to stanch the blood flow. Sam jerked his hand away.
“This wound’s been stitched. Kel, hand me the scissors and tweezers from the kit.”
With extreme care, he snipped open the threads. He used the tweezers to probe and then remove a pointed metal object from Curt’s body. Kelly’s stomach roiled as he held it up.
Two interlaced crescent moons the size of a silver dollar.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Some kind of magick amulet. I’ve never seen it before.”
Whoever had done this had torn open his skin and inserted the pendant. Then he’d sewn the skin back up, sealing the pointed symbol inside to cause excruciating pain.
“They packed it into the wound to torture him,” Sam said tightly.
“No!”
They turned around. In the corner, Keira shook her head. “Not hurt. I did it to protect him from bite of the wolf.”
His entire body trembling in rage, Sam shook the amulet. “You did this to him?”
